#might have let it slide if it was something else but NOT spam

[theamazingannie]

My anxiety disorder caused me to accidentally buy spam at the grocery store

#I went there with five dollars and a dollar credit on my app #bought two chocolate bars three packs of gummies and a sunny d for $1 each #total comes out to $9.95 #almost double what it was supposed to be #but hey who am I to question the cashier #but I do ask for my receipt to find out why it was so much #and which tag I must have misread #and there’s a $4 spam charge on there #I do not fuck with spam #might have let it slide if it was something else but NOT spam #so I check my bag and there is a mysterious can of spam in there that I did not grab #turns out it had been on the counter when I arrived and cashier thought it was mine #got it refunded all fine #but then I realized it didn’t take my credit #but I was not about to add that on #luckily I had another $5 but the situation was very not fun #this is why I always do self checkout but there’s is card only😭 #just trying to spend up my loose change I had lying around and buy some snackies why does this happen to me😭

[katsuki-goodness]

Alone Without You | Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Warning // Strong language and sexual themes ahead. There may be none in this chapter but the rest of the story will have these themes. Read at your own discretion.

Pairing: Kirishima x f!reader

Tags: School!AU, College!AU

Count: 2,089

Summary: He was a loving guy in high school, noon-changing, cheerful. The years passed and he shifted to a guy who partied, slept with any girl he found attractive, and drank like a maniac. You stayed the same, wishing for your friend to come back.

One day in the week.

Then two days.

Then the days come when you stop seeing him for a whole week and it starts to get worse from there. It was scary to you, seeing him change so quickly because of someone else. It might have been in the time spam of a few months but the noticeable change from the once caring boy to the now party animal, was a big gap.

You remember how he wanted to hang out that day, and he asked you to hang the next day. It was fun, nothing too weird, until later when the hangouts were less frequent, the way he talked to you, his posture, and even his eyes were different. He mentioned once that he was talking to his crush, just to get to know each other. In that instance, it hurt so bad but not as bad as seeing him transform.

“She was better than I had expected, and wow, she is amazing,” He told you, and you smiled with the fakest smile you could put on to show him how disappointed you felt inside. He didn’t even notice that. He continued to talk about her and didn’t stop. You had to make him stop. You told him that you wanted to talk about something else, not her.

“Listen, I want to hangout with you, but we can’t hangout when you keep talking about her all the time. I get you’re happy about her. I’m not trying to shut you up, but i rather talk about anyone else or anything else aside from her.” He didn’t take that very well. Maybe I shouldn’t have worded it that way, you thought.

“If that’s how you feel, then I should just hangout with her instead,” and just as quickly as he spoke, with anger, he left.

“Eijirou! Please, come back! I didn’t mean it like that!” He had pulled away in his car, speeding off and leaving you alone outside, watching his car disappear in the fog.

You did cry, but for being an idiot. You were just angry to hear him talk about her all the time when you were just sitting there listening to it. He should know but he doesn’t. He never asked and you never said anything either. You were a hypocrite because you can remember the times you mentioned a guy and his face was always displeased. You wanted his advice and wanted to talk about how to approach him, but it was always about him. You wanted to know how to tell him “I like you” or “let’s go out on a date because I’m tired of waiting for you”, but nothing came out of your mouth.

Just remembering that day felt so… heartbreaking. You can admit it was your fault in some way, and anything that reminded you of him would send a sharp pain to your chest. At the time, you wanted to go back and tell him you were sorry, but you were scared because yes, you two probably would be friends again, but you didn’t want to be involved anymore. He wanted to drag you to parties, make you meet his new girlfriend but you weren’t comfortable with any of that. He always got upset but you didn’t care. It’s not something you want to do.

No matter how much you try to remind yourself that the friendship was over, even if it’s been a few weeks, it was hard to move on. You and him were best friends, almost like you were joint to the hip. Thinking of it all with your music made it worse, so you took off your earphones and decided to take a walk to the park where you frequented whenever you needed some air.

It was the middle of fall and your thin sweater barely warmed you up at all. You mentally hit yourself for not bringing a bigger jacket. As you sat on the top of the slide in the middle of the park, you let out a sigh, feeling your mind clear and your body relax. This was always nice and super effective to relieving any type of trouble you had the moment. Your now cold body getting a little warmer from all the shivers, but nonetheless, this was nice.

You looked around, admiring the sight of people enjoying their evening. You didn’t notice the figure coming from behind you, and when they touched your shoulder, you jolted to the side and moved away. His angry eyes were staring back at you but his sly smirk was present. “Don’t worry, Forehead. It’s just me.”

You exhale as you moved over for him, giving him some room to sit. “You scared me. I seriously thought you were some random dude.”

He sat down, his thick jacket and his scarf puffing out as he took his place next to you. “I’m technically a random dude. We barely even talked in high school. We only talked because of Kiri.” You nodded in response. This was Kiri’s other best friend, but he was actually his best friend. They talked about anything from what Kirishima would mention. It was really cute seeing them both bicker but you always felt left out. You accepted it because he was his best friend and you were just a ‘good friend’.

Seeing the blonde with short hair and his usual angry eyes was so weird. He looked over at you, staring back and your mind couldn’t help but wonder, how come I didn’t fall for this guy instead?

“What are you looking at, Forehead?” You’re quickly snap back to your senses, looking down at your hands, too afraid to say a word about his best friend. “So?”

“Ah… it’s nothing really. Just had a lot on my mind. Nothing to note, though.” Silence followed suit. He didn’t respond to you at all and just stared out with you as you both look at the sunset. You hear him rustling but you don’t look towards him, instead you feel something warm, his jacket, put over you. “Wait, you don’t-“

“Just take it. You were shivering.” You barely nodded to his remark, the warmth of his jacket engulfing you. You had looked over at him and he had another sweater underneath his jacket it seems, taking no time to zip it up.

“I’m going to keep this,” you told him as you got up, a smile plastered on your face which he took as a sign that you were at least okay to walk home.

“I’ll just come looking for you if you don’t. Thats my favorite jacket.” You chuckle and thank him for letting you borrow it to get home. You didn’t want to leave, maybe say a few things about Kiri to him, but you two weren’t really friends. You knew each other, talked a few times, but not much aside from that. It was nice of him to even think of lending his jacket to you.

You got home pretty quickly, making sure to put Katsuki’s jacket on the couch to wash it later. You went over to the kitchen, getting a glass of water as you stepped back into the living room of your apartment. As you thought of Katsuki, your mind wandered to Eijirou who was probably with his girlfriend having a wonderful time. It occurred to you that Katsuki didn’t ask about Kiri at all, even though you didn’t expect him to just out right say anything to you. Was it because he knew what he was up to, or he assumed you two were still talking?

The way he went silent a few times was the indication that he knew something. You weren’t going to ask, and you most certainly weren’t going to talk about it even if you wanted to. Maybe you’re thinking too much about it that by now you were just thinking about the red head in an unhealthy way.

You say that, but at the end of the day, quite literally, you were still thinking about him. You fell asleep thinking about him, wondering if he was doing okay, if he was eating well, if they were treating him right. It was impossible for you to know In your current situation. Even when you went to class the next day, it was difficult. You shook your head a few times to stop the thoughts and you kept yourself occupied.

Going to the library on campus, you grabbed a few books to read, checking them out and heading off back home until you saw someone. He was talking to Katsuki, joking around but you dared to look in their direction and you saw Kiri with bags under his eyes, his hair longer than you last saw him. His style changed too, and you remembered he would wear pretty neutral colors but now it was bright. You can spot him from a mile away.

You quickly passed by them, ignoring the stares from the boys as you made sure to quickly go into a cafe where you would come to study. The sigh of relief calmed you down, and just like that, you sat down at one of the far tables, away from the window and looked down at your books.

“If I didn’t go get books, I wouldn’t have saw them,” blaming yourself out loud as you opened one up and began to read.

You can say that you’ve read better books, but at least you got to read more because you felt so stressed and a bit dazed thinking about him all day and night for the past day. You weren’t completely done with the first book, but you decided to go home since the coast was clear. No one followed you and no one was making fun of you.

It’s like life was quiet, not completely but also almost silent. It felt somehow.. very weird, especially since you just realized how quiet it actually was. Even walking down the same old street to your apartment was unusually quiet when it’s always been like this.

The world has stopped around you in some way as you opened the door to the main building of your apartment. You went up the steps, the hallway still looking the same, and even getting to your door, it was normal, except the guy standing in front of the door. Was he waiting for you?

“Hey, remember you have my jacket?” His grin was visible to you, somehow feeling tense as he spoke.

“Oh, right. Come in,” You had told him as you opened the door, letting him in with you right behind him. “I washed it for you, I hope you don’t mind.”

You heard him snicker at your remark. “Why would I be upset? You literally saved me the time.” The smile on your face notified him that you at least felt a bit more comfortable with him. It surely did relax you a bit, but you felt like he could have waited to get his jacket back from you, but right now, it felt like he was here for something else. It couldn’t have just been for his jacket, but who would want to see you, you would think many times.

“On another note, I wanted to invite you to a party that a friend is having this week.” There it was. A party? Why something… weird, like that?

“Umm, sorry, I don’t do parties.”

“That’s weird, I surely thought you would be a party girl. I just thought you’d be okay with going with me. I didn’t want to go alone.” His blush on his face was barely visible, but it was there.

“The great Bakugou is asking me out, and to a party?” You tease, his red face, very much visible.

“S-shut it, Forehead. This is a serious offer. Take it or leave it.” Thinking back to your high school years, Katsuki was always loud and aggressive, never nervous, and always willing to fight back. He was a scary dude, nothing like Eijirou. Maybe that’s why I never liked him?

The more you thought about it, the harder it was to deny the blonde. It’s not like you can’t have fun. You can pull off some styles, and who was going to stop you?

With a sigh, you look at the man standing in front of you. “I’ll go, but if we’re going together, you better not leave my side. I’m not planning to go home alone.”

He grinned towards you, “Deal.”

= = =

Tag list: @eijiandkatspebble

#eijirou kirishima #kirishima x reader #bnha kirishima #kirishima x y/n #mha kirishima #red riot #kirishima #mha #bnha #mha fanfiction #mha oc #bnha eijiro kirishima #alone without you kirishima ff

[salem-manga]

Chapter 3 Outline

Finally got around to doing this. Will prob write some more soon since school just ended for the summer and I've got time to write, but for now, here it is.

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SALEM Vol. 1 - SEED 3: At the Factory - Page by page outline

Page 1 - The group looks upon the factory in front of them, standing in awed silence for a few seconds before Sam walks over to the factory's entrance, holding an arm out and beaming widely - "Well, Shall we?". Damien and Jimbo look at each other and shrug before stepping inside, the rest of the group not far behind, Shaun and Jamie noticably quiet, just following the rest of the group through the place, all of this completely new to both of them.

Page 2 - Damien and Jimbo are the first to walk in, taking in the scenery around them as the rest of the group follows, Sam walking in after everyone else. Matt kicks an empty beer can somewhere off to the side, which pings off of the bottom of some machine on the factory floor. Caroline stretches her arms back and yawns - "Good to be home".

Page 3 and 4 - Another two-page spread, this time of the main factory floor in front of them. Beside them is some sort of vehicle storage, which contains a rusted, decaying forklift, and ahead of them, the factory floor stretches out a good 100 feet at least. Each side of this main hall is lined with various milling machines, drills, and other machines you'd find inside a steel mill, a giant crucible sitting precariously in its slot in the wall, two massive blast furnaces stretching up past the ceiling on either side of it. The roof is full of rust holes and daylight shines through to illuminate this hall along with the main window at the front of the mill, the floor itself and the machines on it covered in pieces of the roof along with a layer of leaves that have drifted in through holes in said roof. There is a massive set of sliding double doors at the end of this hall, and the walls and some of the machines are covered in sparse graffiti. There is also a massive sliding crane that has partially collapsed, one half still attached to the now bent rail along the side of the ceiling it would have once moved across, the other half collapsed through the wall, sitting precariously on some other thick piece of metal preventing it from collapsing all the way through the wall. The group members look upon this, a few of them muttering things between themselves. "Nice lobby".

Page 5 - Glenn looks over to Sam with a bit of a grimace on his face - "Y-you're sure this is safe right"?, gesturing over to the partially collapsed crane. Sam just shrugs - "it's been like that since around a few years ago. I don't think it's going anywhere any time soon". The group walks down the factory floor, taking in the sights and stopping just before the crane. Sam then gestures to the way the crane is propped up against the wall right in front of the sliding doors. "Look at it this way - Cops are less likely to bother us about living here if they, A - Think we're just gonna die anyways when that finally collapses and takes down the wall next to it, and B - If they decide to try and evict us anyways, realize that crane might just fall on top of them and turn them into a SPAM, Steel beam, and concrete sandwich the moment they start hitting these-" he smacks his hand against one of the massive steel sliding doors, which lets out a loud thud, which echoes out throughout the main factory hall "-big ass doors with a battering ram."

Page 6 - "luckily, we don't have to worry about that". Sam then smiles widely and walks off to the side, where a set of steel racks with tarps draped over them lines the wall. Sam then wheels one of them out of the way, and beaming wildly, gestures to a normal, steel door that he kicks open with the distinct sound of metal grinding against rust. Matt rolls his eyes and proclaims loudly - "Dude, they're totally just gonna find that and bust into that instead, or like, just find another entrance or something". Sam kind of just shrugs - "You got a better plan?" "Nah." "Whatever then, let's keep going".

Page 7 - The group walks into the next room, which is notably darker, everyone hesitating for a second until Shaun pulls out his smartphone and turns on the flashlight, which, though barely effective, lights up enough of this room for everyone to see. The room itself is full of various pipes, valves, some machines, conveyer belts, and, when the rest of the group turns on the flashlights on their smartphones as well, Damien looks up near the roof, seeing a catwalk and a conveyer belt that evidently used to lead over to the blast furnaces and main factory floor, which has collapsed near the middle and hangs precariously over some more pipes and conveyer belts.

Page 8 - As the group walks further through this room, Jimbo and matt lag behind everyone else, and in the dim light, Matt can be seen whispering something to Jimbo, who stifles a laugh. As they keep going, they eventually arrive at the exit to this second massive hall, entering an area with two wide halls that stretch out to each side. Sam, who steps out ahead of everyone else, stretches his arms to either side and beams widely again. "Now that we're past the cherry on top of the rust pile, we enter the meat, black mold, broken plaster, and potatoes of this place-". Glenn pipes up - "Very reassuring, Sam.". Sam, who just ignores him, continues to talk - "-So I think it's time to give everyone here a tour of our new home! The rooms we just went through were the main factory floor, and the boiler room if memory serves right."

Page 9 - The group continues down one of the massive halls on either side of them, which are also lined with various machines and conveyer belts. Notably, Matt and Jimbo are nowhere to be seen, but nobody seems to notice that yet. Sam continues his tour of the place - "According to dad, who used to work here back in the early '90s and '00s, this place was built around the turn of the century, and they just kept adding shit to it whenever they needed. Where we're walking now used to be an ammo factory back during WWII and Vietnam."

Page 10 - "they stopped making ammo here in the '80s, but there's probably still some of that stuff sitting around here under a random pile of crap somewhere."Glenn pipes up again - "…soooo what you're saying is that this place could just like blow up one day". "Nah, they took most of the explosives out of here when they stopped making ammo" "Most?" "Pretty much all. Could still be some sitting around somewhere though, would make for some neat fire crackers". This conversation takes place over the course of a few pages as the group explores the massive halls, Jimbo and Matt still missing, though still nobody seems to notice yet.

Page 11 - Sam walks up to a door, briefly peeking behind it to make sure it was the right part of the factory before beckoning everyone into another pitch black area of the factory - a relievingly normal, person-sized hallway lined with various rooms, though notably a little eerie, the shadows obscuring where the hallway ends. Sam continues "This part of the factory is a bit newer than what we just went through - it was built in the '80s when they switched out the ammo stuff to normal factory stuff". They continue down the hallways, Jamie, Shaun, and Glenn all kind of huddling together while Caroline, Sam, and Damien kind of just walk ahead, the pitch black hallways not doing much to reassure the former, though Sam and Caroline seem unphased by the darkness, Damien looking into various, mossy rooms full of papers, wrecked plaster, ruined furniture and other detritus.

Page 12 - Glenn mutters something about ghosts and the trio at the back huddle together a little bit closer, Sam laughing a little bit. "I mean yeah people did die in here but i've been in here a whole bunch and I've never really encou-" This is cut off by a loud, inhuman screech coming from somewhere inside the factory, Damien instinctively dropping to the ground, Sam staring wide eyed, mouth open as if still mid-sentence, down the hallway, Caroline pressing herself against a wall and the trio at the back all shrieking in terror, and scrambling to find somewhere to hide, everyone waiting like this few a few panels, looking between each other as sam joins caroline against a wall. "W-what the fuck was that".

Page 13 - Glenn, somewhere between terrified and furious starts shouting at Sam. "DUDE I FUCKING TOLD YOU THERE WERE GHOSTS HERE, FUCK WE NEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE FUCK FUCK FUCK". Sam responds, clearly trying to hide his own unease "d-dude we're alright that was p-probably like, an animal or something". Damien, upon hearing this breathes a sigh of relief and stand back up after a minute - "Y-yeah, probably a bobcat" "We have those here?" "yeah. like 5th grade bio. did you guys go to high school?" "IT WAS A FUCKING GHOST I SWEAR TO GOD WE'RE GONNA DIE IF WE DON'T GET OUT OF HERE SOON!" Sam gestures over to Glenn and a few of the others - "High school here closed down in the 2010s. If you wanted to go you had to go out of town." "ah."

Page 14 - Sam calms Glenn down a bit, everyone getting back up after a little bit and noticeably huddling closer together, Shaun finally piping up. "l-look, It's been fun but if that's really a bobcat we should still probably leave.." Sam just lets out a sigh and looks over to the trio - "I'm gonna keep going." Damien shrugs - "Gonna follow Sam. Not a whole lot else to do right now" Caroline follows him up - "Yeah me too, bobcats only attack you if you're like the size of a baby." She looks over to Glenn - "If you act like a baby too, I've heard.". Glenn, who fumes a bit decides he won't have his pride insulted like that and decides to continue along with the rest of the group, the other two deciding that this sucks but they don't feel comfortable trying to leave on their own.

Page 15, 16 - the group continues to walk silently through the halls for a few pages, idle, though hushed conversation taking place between them as they walk through halls upon halls, the black mold and moss seeming to clear up a little bit as they walk into an area of the building that seems like it hasn't been sitting in a pool of shit water for years and years, at a bit of a higher elevation than the other parts of the building and under dense tree cover. at the end of this sequence, Damien grimaces as he shines his phone's flashlight into one of the rooms.

Page 17, 18 - full two-page spread of the inside of the room, two dead bodies side by side propped up against one of the walls, hypodermic needle still poked into one of their arms, rubber bands still tied tight around their biceps. One body seems to have slumped over on its side while the other seems to have stayed in the position they died in, sat up against the wall with one leg outstretched. These bodies have clearly been here for a while and have bloated and decayed, eyes long poked out by animals, bits of flesh missing here and there, Damien. Sam and Carol all peeking into the room. "Jesus fucking christ." "Yeah." "Wonder if it was a suicide pact."

Page 19 - The stench finally hits them, Damien seemingly less phased by it than Sam, Caroline and the others, Sam slamming the door shut and jogging down the hallway followed by everyone else, Damien following close behind, Glenn vomiting into a conveniently placed trash can.

Page 20 - More walking down hallways, completely silent this time.

Page 21 - Damien finally notices that something is off - Jimbo and Matt are nowhere to be seen. "H-hey uhhhhh guys?" "Yeah?" "You guys seen Jim and Matt anywhere?". This sets into the group almost immediately, everyone staring wide-eyed between each other as they look for the pair. Glenn is the first to pipe up "Shit. shit shit shit.". Sam follows - "They probably went off somewhere on their own or someth-" This is cut off by another shriek, closer this time, followed by footsteps rapidly approaching them. This sends the entire group into fight or flight, and everyone seems to unanimously agree to run the fuck away, the entire group bolting down the hallway as fast as their legs can carry them.

Page 22 - the group ends up back in the former ammo factory halls, everyone panting loudly as they look for somewhere to run to, the footsteps still approaching them. They decide to make a break for the exit, and enter the pitch black boiler room again, only to find the door out barred shut. They bang on the door trying to get out but as the footsteps get closer still, Damien grabs a metal pipe off the ground and prepares to die.

Page 23 - Two figures approach the group, obscured by black and grey, moss-covered cloaks, Damien shakily holding the pipe out in front of him as if to ward them off, wide eyed and breathing heavily, Sam covering Caroline's eyes and the trio of Glenn, Jamie and Shaun all silently huddling into a corner still trying to hide from whatever these figures were. One figure stretches a hand out and grabs the end of the pipe after walking right up to damien, and then in an obviously fake deep voice that seems to be stifling a snicker, says "That won't be like, necessary".

Page 24 - Damien immediately yanks the tarp off of the figure in front of him, revealing it to be jimbo, the figure next to him exclaiming "Duuuuude come the fuck on you let off the bit like, way too early". "Dude he totally would have hit me with that pipe-" Damien hits Jimbo over the head with the steel pipe. "OW, WHAT THE FUCK DUDE!" "For fuck's sake Jimbo you two were missing and we thought we were going to die next.". Jimbo beams widely and a snicker turns into full force laughing "WE COMPLETELY GOT YOU THEN AHAHAHHAHAHA".

Page 25 - This is followed by the clang of another pipe hitting something off to the side, which is then revealed to be a pipe falling off of one of the walls and hitting Matt square in the head. "OW FUCK". Sam is the next to grin - "Not gonna lie you kind of deserved that". Matt responds - "Well fuck you too then, asshole".

Page 26 - The group gets back together and Jimbo walks through a hole in the wall that they didn't notice before, removing the bar from the other side of the door and letting everyone through. Sam pipes up one last time after everyone walks through the door, still clearly shaken by the events of the day though noticeably a little irritated as well. "Alright, well, I think that's been enough looking around this rust bucket for everyone today. I say we come back some other time and scout this place out properly. Kinda sad we couldn't finish that tod-". Matt pipes up, interrupting Sam, still snickering evilly - "We can always just stay in the murder house with the new guys". Sam continues talking after Matt finishes - "-Ahem Today, since our visit was so /rudely interrupted/ by you two /assholes/."

Page 27 - Matt pipes up - "Duude come onnn it was funny.", Sam just glaring at Matt again, who stifles another laugh and shrugs at him. The group exits the factory finally, walking back along the abandoned road into town, eventually making it back to the school where everyone parts ways.

Page 28 - Everyone seems to get along again now, Damien talking to them between other conversations between them - "Well shit, it was nice to meet you guys, what a way to start off the year." "Yeah, no kidding. Nice to meet you too Damien" Sam looks over to Jimbo - "You too, Jimbo." Damien follows this up with a question - "Was he always like this?" "Who, Matt?" "Yeah." "Yup. He's an evil bastard.". This is followed up by a small pebble bouncing off of Sam's head from somewhere off to the side, which is revealed to have been thrown by Matt, who flips Sam off and walks away with Glenn, Caroline and a few others, Carol Waving at Jimbo again before finally walking off, Sam seen flipping Matt off in the background.

Page 29 - Jimbo and Damien say their goodbyes and head off back to their squat, arriving there around 6:00 PM, the sun beginning to sit low on the horizon. They set their bags back down and settle in for the night, Jimbo drinking a late night expired coffee and promptly passing out after getting into his sleeping bag, Damien sitting backwards on the chair next to the window, facing the window again and staring outside as the sun sets

Page 30 - Damien digs one of the final few cigarettes out of the pack, leaving two for tomorrow morning as the sun sets and the window darkens, lighting up and blowing a puff of smoke out of the window, resting his shoulders on the window sill as he stares outside into the night sky for a while, resting his head on his arms and eventually passing out in that position.

Page 31 and 32 - Full two-page spread from outside, Damien can be seen passed out against the window sill, the mountains in the background illumated by a night sky full of stars, soft snoring coming from the window Damien is passed out in, fog once again beginning to roll down the mountains as the chapter comes to an end.

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FINAL NOTES - I am probably going to come back and refine this chapter later on when I finally go into the storyboarding phase. The pacing and dialogue feel a little bit off to me and I might rearrange some stuff. Will also probably expand Jamie and Shaun's characters a little bit and give them some more dialogue since I really haven't done a whole lot with them since I introduced them.

#salem manga #salem #writing #furry

[lemonlushff-iy]

Do you want to play a game?

You do? Good.

You know how these games work if you’ve ever seen one of Clearwillow’s...but game rules are HERE since it’s slightly different! I hope this is fun for people...that was my goal! And I hope you catch the “Easter Eggs” in it. I’m curious how many people will find them all. 

I’ll post everything once it’s done on FFN and AO3, and you can catch what I’m doing for @clearwillow‘s game early on my Patreon HERE! (It might be more smut...It might be fluff. WHO KNOWS! It will be OLR related...and it will go up as soon as it’s finished!)

Special thanks to @underwater0phelia​ for kink help and @clearwillow​ for additional edits...and the IYFF BC for brainstorming! Art by @clearwillow​ for @eringobroke​ - used and edited with permission. 

And now without further ado... The first treat (aka, the “freebie”).

Starting Fires

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the Inuyasha universe.

"Inuyasha, stop," Kagome giggled, trying to wriggle out of his hold as he pressed wet kisses up her neck. "I don't want to burn your bacon…"

"It's just bacon," he reasoned, his hands sliding up under her shirt. Or should he say his shirt? Fuck...there wasn't a better sight in the world than his best friend...his best girl...Kagome...Wearing his shirt in their kitchen in their house. Now that he had her again, he weren't never letting go of her. "I don't mind eating something else for breakfast."

"You will when your stomach is rumbling later," she blushed, grabbing his hands and pulling them down, his fingers grazing over the lace fabric of her panties. "Behave yourself and go grab a cup of coffee."

"I'd rather grab your—"

"—Coffee!"

She reprimanded, flipping the bacon in the pan. He placed a gentle nip to the side of her neck before moving away from her, a disappointed pout on his lips.

"Fine. But let it be known that I'm doing it under protest," he grumbled, moving to his cabinet to pull out a mug.

"Your protest has been duly noted, Sir," she teased, turning away from the stove to pick up her own cup of coffee. She brought it to her lips, sipping from it as she watched Inuyasha pour himself some. Their life together felt so surreal still. It felt strange to wake up in their house and cook them breakfast.

But it was a good kind of surreal.

The kind where she found herself pinching her arm to make sure it wasn't all some crazy dream. This was their life. And...she loved it.

"Mmm," he moaned, taking a sip from his cup. "As good as ever, Kags," he grinned toothily, and she risked entering his personal space to press another kiss to his lips.

"Glad you like it," she replied, running away from him again when he moved to squeeze her ass. She removed their bacon and eggs from the pan as a text message chimed on both of their phones, and Inuyasha raised a brow in curiosity. She watched him slide his thumb across the screen, before muttering out a low "Huh" as he read the text.

"What is it?" she asked, picking up their plates and placing them onto the island.

"See for yourself," he shrugged, placing the phone down next to her plate. "It's from Sango."

That already piqued her curiosity. Kagome picked up the phone, leaning over the countertop as she read it.

"Hey Guys!" She began aloud. "Miroku and I decided to throw a Halloween party this year. We know it's a bit last minute, but we were hoping you guys could come since you aren't heading back out to California like you thought. Let us know if you can make it! Trying to plan in terms of food. Love you!"

"Love you too," he grinned, and she couldn't stop the shy smile even if she wanted to. She didn't think she would ever get tired of hearing that again from him. The words were like a balm to her soul.

"What do you think?" Kagome asked, handing him his phone back as he began digging his fork into his eggs.

"Up to you," he shrugged. He really didn't care either way. He was just glad he didn't have to go out to California with her. Though, to tell the truth, he wouldn't have minded. They could have had a night in...just the two of them...And he was always a fan of nights in with her. But..."We can go. I know you wanna…"

It was true too. He had seen the way her eyes lit up when she was reading that message. The way she was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. Kagome didn't want to spend the night in. She wanted to spend her first Halloween back in Montana at a party with old friends.

"But...You...Don't?"

He shrugged.

"Don't matter either way. I'm fine going. I'm fine staying home and fucking ya seven ways from Sunday."

"Yash!"

"What! It's tha truth," he replied with a smirk. "And you can't tell me ya don't like the sound of it," he continued, running his tongue over his fangs. The cute little blush he pulled from her was worth it.

"Well...How about a compromise?"

He paused, lifting his brow in curiosity.

"Go on…"

"What if we went to the party...Just for an hour or two...and then afterward we can come home and have sex? Oh! We can even wear couple's costumes again!"

The phrase couples costume made his butt clench so tight he could probably twist off a beer cap with his cheeks.

"I'll agree to go to the party...but not the couple's costume."

"But Yash," she whined, coming around the island to take his hands. "That's part of the fun…"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"I'll wear something slutty?"

"N—" He began, ready to tell her no again when his brain processed her offer. "Keep talking."

"I'll wear something slutty and sexy?"

"...Uh-huh...And what else?"

"...And you get to take it off of me?"

He almost said yes...but he was a greedy fucker. He was probably gonna take it off of her even if she hadn't offered that.

"Do I get to do more than that?"

"You mean other than wear a matching outfit?"

"I do."

"Well," she began, tilting her head to the side and pursing her lips in thought. "I'm assuming that sex is a given…"

"But you can say it anyway, and make it interesting," he shrugged. If he was going to get roped into this...because he was going to say yes, because he loved her...then he wanted to squeeze as much as he could out of this.

"Ok...If you do it, sex is on the table...and I'll also add you picking the place and position," she decided, causing his eyes to light up.

Place and position huh?

"Well...In that case Darling, you've got yourself a deal!"

Her childlike squeal and the way she giddily clapped her hands, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, made him feel like he made the right decision.

"Now let's talk costumes…"

He groaned, shaking his head and digging his fork into the eggs on his plate.

Then again...Maybe not…

He let her prattle on for a while, running different ideas past him...But he knew that it ultimately wouldn't matter. He was going to give in to whatever she wanted. If she wanted him to go as a hot dog, and she was going to be a bottle of mustard? That was what was going to happen. Wasn't sure how she could make it sexy...but sure. Her call. Prince and Princess? No fighting it. Batman and Catwoman…

It had piqued his interest, but she almost instantly changed her mind. The cowl would be uncomfortable for his ears.

So, she decided on a fireman and a dalmatian. He looked over at her phone when she held up a picture of the costume she had found for him and sighed.

"That's what you want?"

It didn't look too bad. And it looked like he could maybe get away with just wearing the pants. He was going to have to be sneaky about it though...He could do just a t-shirt and those pants.

"Please?" she beseeched, batting her long lashes at him. "It will be so cute! And you'll look so good!"

He tilted his head to the side, and she chewed the inside of his lip as she watched him roll her suggestion around in his head. She really liked the fireman outfit. She thought it would be fun! And he would look good in it too...She could already picture him slowly taking off the jacket to reveal his bare torso...the suspenders holding up his pants hanging limply at the sides as he slowly peeled himself out of—

"—What are you thinking about Kagome?"

She looked up at his face and saw him looking at her, a smirk stretching his lips as he limply held the phone, leaning down across the island.

"N-nothing," she blushed, swiping out to grab the phone from him, but he pulled it away from her at the last second.

"Nu-uh. I can smell it when you're lying…and I can smell it when you're—"

"—NOTHING!"

She insisted, grabbing the phone from him this time, and his grin turned predatory.

"Ain't nothing, or you wouldn't be smelling like that," he countered cheekily before his gaze began to darken. "Ya know...You don't have to keep that bottled up…"

"Inuyasha," she warned as he straightened, running his carefully filed and declawed fingers along the island countertop as he slowly came around to her side.

He was ignoring her, however.

"Kagome," he replied, closing in on her in just a few short strides. "Were you thinking about me in that fireman outfit?"

Sometimes she swore he could read her mind.

"N-no…"

"Liar," he purred, placing his hands onto the granite top on either side of her hips. He had effectively trapped her...and he was looking at her like prey.

It made her swallow because her mouth was suddenly dry. And made her lower abdomen heat. The intensity and desire in his gaze...the slight glint of fang in the morning light…

Fucking hell...She wanted to be his prey. Wanted to be captured and eaten and...eaten…

He inhaled deeply, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lowly moaned, "Fuck Kags…"

"W-what," she swallowed, and his smirk widened into a fangy grin before his lips crashed into hers.

AN:

I WILL ONLY DO THIS WALL OF TAGS ONCE! All future treats will be completely hidden under cuts so I don’t spam everyone’s timeline with in your face kink!

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See you at 500 notes!!

#olr halloween game #lemon's reblog smut game #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyashafanfic #inuyasha #inukag #DAMNIT CARRA #Ode to Carra #Clearwillow #rancher #cattle rancher #western #romance #angst #one last ride #lemonlushff

[myherowritings]

Three in the Morning

— You’ve missed your best friend after not seeing him for over a week. To fix that problem, you show up at his window at three in the morning to fill the Iwaizumi-shaped void in your heart.

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x reader word count: 2.9k genre: college/university au, fluff warnings: intoxication (reader is tipsy hghfjsd), jealous reader at one point, cuddling in bed, tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: written for bnha sanctuary one prompt haikyuu collab! :D a bunch of writers wrote their take on the same prompt “it’s 3am why are you outside my window” and this is the fic i came up with based on it! check out the other amazing fics here u won’t regret it ;) xx sof

「 hq masterlist 」

Walking around in the middle of the night just the slightest bit tipsy wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done in your whole college career, but you could safely say it wasn’t the dumbest— Not that it was something you should be proud of.

You and your roommates had just gotten home from a party and, for some odd reason, you had the sudden urge to see one of your best friends, Iwaizumi Hajime, right at that very moment. He had been studying for midterms all week and you weren’t able to hang out with each other like you normally did, causing a Iwaizumi-shaped void that you wanted to fill. (In a strictly platonic way, of course.) 

And when you were half-sleep deprived, half-inebriated, it wasn’t uncommon for you to be rather...impulsive. From ordering too much takeout from any “open 24-hour” restaurant within a five mile radius, to uploading a video of you trying to come up with the perfect pasta recipe, you’ve done a handful of bizarre things during the ungodly hours of the night. But even you weren’t sure what was going on through your mind that convinced you sneaking out of your apartment and heading to Iwaizumi’s nearby was the best course of action while still slightly intoxicated. 

The clock on your phone read that it was only a quarter ‘til three and you quickly shrugged on a jacket and sent Iwaizumi a sloppy “i’m omw iwaaaachann” text before stepping foot outside your door, making sure to shut it silently as to not awaken your roommates who had just fallen asleep. 

As you made your way through your apartment complex, the thought briefly crossed your mind that Iwaizumi might be sleeping at the moment, especially since he had just finished his midterm exams, but you shrugged it off. You would cross that hurdle when you got there. 

And so, when you finally—through some miracle from above—arrived at Iwaizumi’s in one piece, you weren’t sure what else to do other then stare at his half cracked open window. Since he lived on the second floor, it wasn't uncommon for him to leave a window open for air to come through during the hot seasons. 

“Iwaizumi!” you yelled in a quiet whisper, hoping the wind would carry your words into his apartment for you. 

When you received no reply, you pulled our your phone and began to message him. Although Iwaizumi liked to pretend he was an unsentimental guy who didn’t have time to deal with others’ bullshit, it was obvious that was false. He cared a lot about everyone, especially his friends. Maybe even too much. And one of the ways he showed he secretly cared was always having his phone on full ringer in case anyone needed help in the middle of the night— Something that was surprisingly quite common when you were friends with the chaos that was Oikawa.

Would it be mean to use that knowledge to your own advantage and spam Iwaizumi until he replied? 

Maybe. 

But in your defense, you were practically having an emergency only he could help with. You desperately needed your Iwaizumi fix after not having seen him in over a week and there was no one better to help you that problem than Iwaizumi himself. 

Besides, texting him until he wakes up would be better than Romeo-and-Julieting this and climbing in through his window. Trying to scale a building while tipsy was too idiotic, even for you.

Y/N: are u awakeee?

Y/N: wakey wakey 

Y/N: i miss u :(

Y/N: i’m outside ur window wink wonk

Y/N: iwaaa >.>

There was a cacophonous sound of loud text chimes ringing one after the other followed by a deep grunt and stretching sound. You pictured Iwaizumi blearily getting out of bed and checking his phone that he kept across the room (to minimize at-night screen time, he claimed) with a heavy-lidded look on his face. 

After a few seconds of unidentifiable shuffles, you heard a strangled cry of, “What the—?!” before you saw the shadow of his head through the window screen. 

“Y/N?” he asked incredulously, voice still rough and scratchy from having just been awakened. 

You waved, beaming wildly. “Iwaizumi!” 

There was a deep sigh as he cracked the glass open even wider. “It’s three in the morning— Why are you outside my window?” He peered down at you almost stumbling on the spot. “And are you drunk?”

“Barely,” you assured, though you still felt a slight buzz in your fingertips. “I missed you so I came here.” 

“I— What? I mean— Huh?” he demanded, visible confusion in his tone. He rubbed his forehead before correcting himself. “I mean I miss you too. But it’s three in the morning! You couldn’t wait to miss me in a few hours instead?” 

You didn’t know whether to pout because he didn’t grow some Rapunzel hair and let you climb it up to the window and fall into his open arms like you’d imagined, or cheer because he said he missed you too. Blissfully, you chose the latter. “You miss me?” 

“Is that really all you heard?” said Iwaizumi with a snort before shaking his head in defeat. “Come up here. I’ll unlock the door for you.” 

Your face lit up instantly as you nodded, bounding up the stairs of his apartment building and meeting with him face-to-face at his doorstep. 

He had his arms folded over his chest as he waited for you at the entrance and, though he had tired circles under his eyes and still seemed half-asleep, was looking as attractive as ever. Not even the white polka dots on his pajama shorts could talk away from that fact. If anything, it made him all the more adorable. 

“Iwa-chan!” you greeted excitedly, but still careful as to make sure you weren’t loud enough to wake up his roommate. You opened your arms out and he begrudgingly accepted your embrace. (Well, he tried to seem begrudging at least. But you saw his hidden smile as you nestled your chin on his shoulder.) “I missed you.”

“You said that already, dumbass,” he said with a tsk. He patted the top of your head before pulling away from your hug promptly. “You’re cold. Have you been standing outside for long?” 

Pursing your lips, you looked up at him in confusion. “I don’t feel cold.” 

“Because you’re too drunk to register it, probably.” With his warm hand on the small of your back, Iwaizumi ushered you inside and shut the door behind you. “Let’s go to my room so we don’t wake up my roommate, yeah?”

“‘Kay.”

Having visited his place so many times before, you knew it like it was your own apartment— Disregard the fact that your apartments had almost the same exact layout since you lived in the same complex. After sliding off your shoes at the entrance, you led the way to his room with Iwaizumi following closely behind you. 

“Did you go to a party tonight?” he asked, eyes trailing down your body that was clad in an oversized t-shirt and fuzzy socks. Iwaizumi took a seat on his bed and patted the spot next to him for you to join. 

Laughing at his puzzled expression, you nodded. “Yeah, but I went to my place to change and get ready for bed,” you explained. “Tried sleeping but I missed you too much and wanted to see your face.”

You climbed onto the mattress with him and wiggled around until you found a comfy spot. The comfy spot happened to be side-by-side with Iwazumi, your back against the wall and cold thigh pressed against his warm one. You rested your head on his shoulder and he lazily drew circles onto your knee with the pad of his thumb. 

Intimacy like this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you— That’s just how things were. He was warm and comfy and good at cuddling, and you liked that. 

It could maybe be considered just normal friendship things you two did with everyone if it weren’t for the fact that Iwaizumi wasn’t typically comfortable with physical touch from anyone other than you. And maybe if you also ignored that you weren’t too keen on the thought of him one day being this close to anyone else. If truth be told, you didn’t like the thought of that at all. 

With a small huff, you hooked your left arm with Iwaizumi’s right, hugging his bicep to you in an almost clingy manner. 

“You good?” he asked, lightly chuckling as he looked down at you gripping onto his side. “Or something troubling you?”

You hummed unsure how to answer. There wasn’t enough alcohol in your system for you to completely spill your guts with know remorse, though being tipsy did greatly increase your likelihood of being loose-lipped. “I’m just thinking about someone else being with you like this.” 

Iwaizumi stiffened, shoulders tensing ever so slightly before he quickly relaxed his muscles again. He prompted gruffly, throat so tight it came out as a murmur, “And?” 

“I don’t like it.” 

He let out a sharp chuckle. “I see.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw a smile on his face and you continued on. “You’ve been studying a lot with Sasaki-san lately.”

“Hmm. Have I?” 

You nodded. “You have your biomechanics class with her, right?” 

“Yeah. I guess we studied for the exam together for a few nights.” 

There was a funny feeling in your stomach at the thought of him spending his nights studying with someone that then spiraled to you picturing them being compatible and falling in love and spending the rest of their lives together. You winced, trying to shake it off. You were one of his best friends; it’s not like you had the right to feel that way.

“She’s really pretty,” you said, hoping it would prompt him to talk more about her. Even if you had no right, you still wanted to know—

By now, the laughter Iwaizumi was struggling to hold in bubbled out of his mouth, cutting you off mid-thought. His shoulders bounced up and down and you reluctantly sat up from your position resting on top of him to give him a look of confusion.

“Why are you laughing at me?” you pouted. Your eyebrows were furrowed and the corners of your lips were quirked down, cheeks slightly puffed. 

He nudged your side gently with his elbow. You nudged him back, but moved away before he could retaliate and start a nudge war. “Because you sound jealous and it’s funny.”

“I didn’t say I was jealous.”

“I didn’t say you said that.” 

“I’m not jealous,” you corrected.

“Now that’s debatable.” 

Your cheeks flooded with heat, grabbing a pillow off the head of Iwaizumi’s bed to hide the embarrassed look on your face, seconds away from throwing it at him if he started to laugh any louder. You huffed. You were not jealous. There was no way. You just didn’t like imagining one of your best friends with another person doing coupley things that you only wanted him to do with you. But that definitely wasn’t jealousy. 

(Okay, fine. You were jealous. But you couldn’t admit that to Iwaizumi.)

“That’s just your lack of sleep talking,” you sulked, lying down on his bed with a pillow still over your face. “Go to sleep now.” 

“I was asleep. Until someone showed up at my window unannounced and woke me up.” 

“They sound annoying.” 

He barked out a laughter and you felt the weight on the bed shift. The compressed springs near your feet where Iwaizumi sat released its tension before you felt a dip beside you. You held your breath, the warmth from Iwaizumi’s body radiating onto yours.

While sleeping in the same bed together wasn’t as common as just cuddling, it wasn’t something that was exactly rare. There were times when you came over to watch movies or a television series with him until you both passed out on his bed. And other times when he was feeling stressed or you were feeling sad and neither of you wanted to sleep alone. You knew if you called, he would invite you in. And it was the same if he came to you. 

But that didn’t make your heart beat any less rapidly as you waited in anticipation for Iwaizumi to get under the sheets with you. No matter how many times you fell asleep together, that didn’t stop the rush of nerves and tense air of awkwardness from flooding the room. However, it took just one touch to break the ice and before you knew it, you were snuggling up next to him in complete contentment.

“They’re not annoying,” he said firmly, large hand resting on the curve of your hip. “Actually, I’m glad they showed up even though it was three in the morning and I was running on two hours of sleep from the previous day.” You winced at his words, the alcohol gone from your system by now and you realized the insensitivity of your actions. Still, your stomach fluttered when he said he was glad to see you. “Because I missed them too.” 

You blinked slowly. “You’re talking about me right?”

Through the moonlight from the window, you saw him roll his eyes with a grin. “Is there anyone else you think I’d let into my bed at this hour?” 

“Oikawa.” 

He considered it. “Well, maybe. But it wouldn’t so much be me letting him than him weaseling his way in.” 

You nodded solemnly, as if it made perfect sense. Because it did. “Fair enough. He’s the only other person I’d let into my bed like this too,” you admitted, earning a laugh out of the both of you. “Well, besides Oikawa then, there’s no one else you’d sleep with like this?”

“There hasn’t been since we started college. I doubt there would be anyone to change that. Nor would I want anyone to.” 

For the second time tonight, you felt heat rise to your cheeks and had the sudden urge to turn the other way and stare at the wall instead of Iwaizumi. But he held you tight by the waist so you couldn’t wiggle your way out of his grasp— Which did not, at all, help with the flaming face situation. 

He only wanted you? There was a euphoric feeling in your chest when you realized he felt that way, and you felt the same. 

“Someone’s bold tonight,” you managed to choke out, softly pressing your shaky fingers to the center of Iwaizumi’s chest. You felt the outlines of his toned pectorals beneath your palm and you had to remind yourself to keep on breathing.

“It’s from the lack of sleep. Sorry.” He didn’t sound apologetic. In fact, he seemed the opposite of apologetic when he brought you almost imperceptibly closer to him. If you weren’t so aware of the spatial distance (or lack thereof) between the two of you, there was no way you would have noticed. But you did. And you didn’t mind it. “I don’t have my usual filter.”

“Maybe I like you like this,” you said without missing a beat. Your initial reaction was to be embarrassed about the words that just left your mouth, but when you saw his growing smile, you felt a rush of assurance coursing through you. “I always like you, I suppose.”

“Like me?” he prompted, almost teasingly. “In what way?”

You gulped. Was this Iwaizumi being flirty? 

Sure, it wasn’t uncommon for him to compliment you and occasionally play around— But if you thought your heart would ever be ready for him to actually flirt, you certainly thought wrong. You weren’t ready at all.

“L-Lots of ways,” you stammered out. “But in particular, the ‘I think you’re cute and I maybe want to date you’ way.” 

“Funny.” His voice was a low whisper that rasped in your ear. “I think I like you in that way too.”

“You think?”

“I know.” 

“Huh. Well, if we both like each other in that way…maybe we should…” you trailed off, feelings of timidness suddenly overcoming you. “You know…” 

“Date?” he supplied with a knowing grin. You nodded bashfully. “Tomorrow.” There was an air of promise and sincerity in his tone. “Let’s get some sleep and then when we wake up we can go on our first date.” 

Tranquility spread through your veins as you let out a happy sigh, your muscles growing lax at your calmed state. Although your heart was beating out of your chest at the prospect of actually dating Iwaizumi, his comforting embrace was enough to lull you into sleep. Your senses were flooded with him—his touch, his smell, the quiet sound of his steady breathing—and you realized there was no other place you’d rather be. 

“Are you sure you won’t be too tired from exams?” you said before sleep overtook the both of you. “And from me waking you up in the middle of the night? Which…sorry for that again, by the way.”

“Don’t apologize. It was worth it,” he mumbled, lips brushing against your forehead as your eyelids fluttered shut. “I’ll always be here when you need me. Even if it’s at three in the morning.” 

#hqBNHASanctuary #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyu!! #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyu!! x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu oneshot #hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi fluff #college au #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n

[teddy06writes]

Charlie Dalton's Annual Dead Poets Holiday Party: Halloween Edition

Requested: Nope {please send Dead Poets requests)

Dead Poets x reader (I like to think that any can be taken as romantic or platonic)

trigger warnings: swearing, some yelling, mentions/implied drinking/drunkenness

Premise: {Based on a few real events from both my last Saturday night party and a few other parties} Charlie has always been in charge of the Dead Poets Holiday Parties, be it the Nondenominational Winter Holiday Edition (CDADPHPNDWHE for short), New Years Eve Edition, or Fourth of July Edition, but this is your first time attending one of these famed parties since joining the group

{Might end up a loosely connected series, based on my other parties}

{Costumes: Y/n: Heather Chandler, Meeks: Heather Duke, Pitts: Heather McNamara, Todd: Veronica Sawyer, Neil: J.D. Charlie: Blossom, Knox: Bubbles, Cameron: Buttercup (they made him), Chris: Ghost with the sheets but party mode}

"Neil I am literally begging you- drive faster!" Meeks cried from the backseat.

Neil sighed, "Meeksie if I drive any faster we will slide off the road or something."

"You don't understand," He groaned, "Charlie's spam texting me!"

You laughed, "Well that's what you get for not telling him we were gonna be late!"

Meeks groaned, letting his head fall back against the glass, "I did tell him!"

In the middle, Pitts shrugged, "At least he doesn't have to worry about a part of his group costume missing."

"We aren't missing anyone," Todd said, "....Anymore."

"Look its not our fault we forgot (y/n)!" Neil argued.

"Yes it is! It is entirely your fault!" You yelled.

Neil started to protest, but was cut off by Pitts' sigh, "Tell Charlie we'll pull in in a minute."

~~ As Neil pulled up along the wide drive of the Dalton Manor (lets be real there's nothing else to call it), you looked around in awe.

The party had only officially started a half hour ago, but cars already packed the driveway.

Car safe parked in the designated space Charlie had left, the others began to climb out, and you followed them, straightening your blazer and fixing your hair.

Todd sent you an attempt at a reassuring smile, before turning to look up at the old stable that had been turned into Charlie's party spot.

"Remember what Keating used to say," Neil said, coming around the side of the car, "'oh to struggle against great odds, to meet enemies undaunted.'"

You frowned, turning to him, "How is that supposed to help my nerves?"

"No idea, let's go!"

People were packed inside, yet somehow through it all Charlie managed to spot your group, charging through the crowd yelling, "AyyyY! Mi Amigos! Are you ready to party???"

He through an arm around each of you in tern, adding a "Glad you final get to come to this (y/n)." To yours.

Almost as soon as he had appeared, he disappeared, though only for a moment as he quickly reemerged from the crowd with Cameron and Knox in tow, "Pictures, now."

Meeks laughed excitedly, joining the group in following Charlie off to the side where an open space had been designated for pictures, "Oh the insta stories are gonna be so lit!"

After all but bribing a random by stander to take a thousand pictures on everyone's phones, Charlie disappeared again, but not before giving the only slightly foreboding warning, "The party will begin momentarily."

It didn't take him long to make his way around to where the band had set up near the back, snatching a microphone, "Hey hey hey! Is this thing on?"

The crowd of people cheered, and you cheered with them, looking around at your friends with a laugh.

"Okay! I'd just like to say before we get this started, thank you all for coming to Charlie Daltons Annual Dead Poets Holiday Party: Halloween edition!"

Again the crowd cheered.

"Well we've got a real treat for you beautiful people this year! We've got catering by my fathers own kitchen staff, a live band The Keats, and for the first time, a winning costume trophyyy! Not to mention that first circle Dead Poet (Y/n) (y/l/n) has joined ussssss!"

Again the crowd cheered, turning to look at you as the rest of the dead poets laughed.

"So! Again, thank you all for obeying the costumes rule, I mean this turn out- We've got some nuns, the Heathers, Medea- and is that fucking Mutt Sanders I see? Anyway- without further ado! Let's fucking party!!"

The crowd began to cheer again, and you leaned over to Pitts, "Does he make a speech every year?"

"At every party!"

~~

The night was already beginning to go by in a blur, between rounds of pool/billiards (meeks or Pitts won nearly every round), dancing to the cheesiest party songs the band played (Neil and Charlie at the center of the dance circle obviously), and watching Knox getting syringe shots sent directly into his mouth by the 'magical shot fairy' everyone had a suspicion was Ginny Danbury.

Charlie had been dragged off by someone to see about something with the food, and Cameron, ever concerned with not getting sued by people with food poising had followed. Knox had gone after Chris, and Pitts and Meeks were in a very heated game of billiards.

You sighed, taking a swig of your drink as you turned to find Todd hurriedly mumbling something to Neil, "What's wrong?"

"Todd's uh, not feeling it, we're gonna take a breather." Neil explained.

"I'll go with- if that's okay, Todd?"

He nodded, and Neil began to lead the way through the crowd, you brining up the rear of the little procession you formed.

"You okay?" You asked Todd once you were all out and sitting safely in the gazebo.

"It's just loud in there." He sighed.

Neil nodded, "That's fair. We can chill out here for as long as you want Todd."

The gazebo lapsed into silence for a long while before Todd sighed, "Okay- best costume you've seen, not including your own."

"I liked Chris's. The sunglasses really worked." Neil said after a moment.

You nodded, "Definitely a tie between hers and whoever was doing Medea."

Neil chuckled, "That's Charlie's cousin. He's a real trip."

"Wasn't he bad James Bond last year?" Todd asked with a giggle.

"Yep. Carried a banana around instead of a gun." Neil confirmed.

"Best song the the bands played so far." You offered.

"Don't stop believing."

"I'm still holding out for Footloose."

~~

You'd stayed out in the gazebo for a long time, ignoring the cold, watching as the party slowly thinned as late night turned to nearly early morning, and eventually were joined by Knox, Chris, and Pitts, who came with a plate piled high with food.

"Okay, okay okay," Chris laughed, "Screw Marry kill, Charlie, Meeks, Cameron."

"Everyone that's not here? That feels like betrayal!" Knox objected.

"Marry Meeks, screw Charlie, kill Cameron." Pitts answered at the same instant.

You laughed, "No way. Marry Cameron for the benefits of he would literally do all the taxes and shit, Screw Charlie and Kill Meeks."

"You would kill Meeks?" Todd demanded.

You shrugged, "Call it in character."

"You can't just use that as an excuse!"

"I already explained it! Cameron comes with the benefit of never balancing a text book or filing tax shit, who wouldn't wanna screw Charlie! Meeks is just whos left!"

Before the last words had fully left your mouth, Neil, who had been remaining quiet shushed you, listening intently.

"What?"

"Shhhh!"

Another moment of quiet before he asked, "Does anyone else hear Chris Stapleton?"

Everyone went dead silent before a collective, "OH SHIT!" Was yelled, and you were all out of your seats, running back toward the stable building.

Just as had been suspected, Charlie was up on the stage, loudly singing, "Youuuuuuuurrr as smooooooth as tennesee whiskeyYyyyyyyyy!"

"Holy shit!" You exclaimed.

It took hardly a moment for you to join in with the rest of the inner circle poets, forming a line with your arms thrown around Cameron and Todd's shoulders as you swayed in time with them.

The song eventually ended, and Charlie all but vaulted from the stage to join the group, "Guys! Your just in time, fucking tesla guy came back! And guess what?"

"What?" Todd laughed.

"He brought a giant ass bag of McDicks!"

"Ah yes, the annual appearance of tesla guy." Cameron half laughed, half whispered to you.

"And his generous donation of fast food." Knox added.

Back up on the stage the lead singer of the band announced, "Alright, we've got another singer from the crowd. Bear with us, we don't actually know this song!"

"YEah MUTT!" Someone yelled from the crowd.

The group of poets had moved off to the side by now and you turned to look at Charlie with wide eyes, "Who is that?"

"Mutt Sanders!" He laughed.

"Mutt Sanders- Knox's doppelganger Mutt Sanders? He's here?"

"Yeah?" He laughed again, "I thought that was part of what I said earlier?"

"I thought it was a joke!"

"Nope!"

~~ By some miracle, the party seemed to fully disperse by 3 am.

Before you knew it, it was only you, the other first circle Dead Poets, Chris Noel and Ginny Danbury left, begining to clean up.

"Guys- guys- Stop cleaning." Charlie said around a yawn, "We have cleaners for a reason."

"Are they paid fair wages?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah. Like, way above minimum."

"Oh, fair enough." She shrugged, grabbing Chris' hand and tugging her toward the door, "See you all later then!"

Once they were gone Neil turned to Charlie, "Who's apartment then?"

"Cams is closest."

"Not a chance." The redhead said immediately.

Charlie sighed, "Yours then Neil. I demand a snack run first though!"

"A snack run?" You questioned, following them out of the stable and across the lawn.

Meeks nodded, "It's tradition, pick an apartment, pick snacks, go crash."

As you reached the door of the house, Charlie turned, suddenly serious, "Pitts, Cam, you two are closest to sober, go get the cars ready. The rest of you get to the pantry, grab as much as you can carry. I'll get the party crash bag."

"Holy shit it's like a whole operation." You marveled.

"Get used to it." Todd half scoffed.

~~

The next morning you woke up in pajamas you had barrowed from someone and a hoodie you had probably taken from someone else, only mildly confused when you found yourself near the bottom of a cuddle pile on Neil's giant ass bed.

You yawned, vaguely feeling someone's arm wrap around your waist.

From next to you and only partly trapped under a red head whom you couldn't tell was Meeks or Cameron, Charlie chuckled softly, "How did you feel about your first Dead Poets Party, (y/n)?"

#dead poets society #dead poets society x reader #neil perry x reader #todd anderson x reader #steven meeks x reader #gerard pitts x reader #knox overstreet x reader #richard cameron x reader #charlie dalton x reader #teddy06 #teddy06writes #teddy06 writes #teddy 06

[hyper-super-clover]

For the requests‚ what about a family trip to the beach with Purgatory Hall + the royals and MC? Like Simeon and Barbatos setting up a picnic table meanwhile MC and Luke play around in the sand searching for shiny or strange things to building a sand castle (everything also keeping Solomon and Diavolo far from the preparations for the picnic)‚ playing with water guns or swimming. And after eating maybe playing a match of volleyball sand, admiring the sunset till it's nigth time and before going back‚ playing with fireworks, do a little stargazing or something--

Feel free to ignore this and thanks in advance anyway~

FINALLY I've come to write something for this lovely request. It's packed with so many fun ideas that I kinda went overboard with it xD this means the story is so big I'll have to split it into two posts!

To Bisshitu: I wanted to thank you for your continuous support! I see you in my notifs a lot and I really appreciate it!! (ALSO I AM SO SORRY YOU'VE WAITED SO LONG I HOPE YOU WILL STILL ENJOY THIS CHAOS)

Literally just 13 idiots on a beach trip~

Part 1

MC was leaning against one of the walls in the giant entrance halls of the House of Lamentation. Standing next to them, Solomon handed MC an opened bag of spicy newt chips. "Want some?" He asked and MC gladly took a few while constantly watching the commotion that was going on in the rest of the hallway.

Who would've guessed that going on a vacation with the seven rulers of hell would involve the most panicked, loud and chaotic packing of bags to have ever existed?

Well, let's be real, MC did expect it, but maybe not to the degree that they were in amusement about now.

The oldest brother had called the others for a "luggage check" as he had been sceptical of his brothers' talents in packing reasonable items in an, likewise reasonable, amount of suitcases and bags.

And of course, the first one to show up had to present his luggage in the form of... nothing.

Yes, Beelzebub came up to Lucifer, only the remains of a sandwich in his hand (which didn't last longer than three more seconds), confused when Lucifer mustered him with an angered glance.

"Where's your luggage?" Lucifer asked, to which Beel only gave a shrug.

"We're going to the beach, right? Which means I'll only need my swimming trunks, and I wear those underneath my pants."

Now the confusion has wandered over to rest on Lucifer's face. "But... Won't you need clothes to change into, or at least pyjamas for the night?"

"Hm..." Beel scratched the back of his head while thinking about Lucifer's words. "Nah, I don't need those. I'm planning to stay at the beach all the time, so..." Then suddenly, he gasped as he remembered something. "Wait, I do have something else prepared to bring along!"

Beel reached into his pocket, and when he pulled out a hand-written list that unrolled itself, plonking onto the carpet and rolling all the way to Lucifer's feet, the avatar of Pride knew exactly what said list was going to be.

"There are a few food stands that I'd like to try out..." Beel announced, eyeing the paper. "First of all, there's one selling shaved ice, which I want to compare to the ice-cream from this other stand, but who's also selling parfaits of which I kind of want to try all twenty-five flavours... Also then there's of course-"

"Beel" Lucifer interrupted the avatar of Gluttony in a strict tone. "Go pack a proper bag."

"But-"

"Now."

Letting out a sigh, Lucifer watched as Beel left.

But little did he know, this had only been the beginning of the chaos...

Moments later, Lucifer has found himself explaining to Satan why taking 70 different books with him would be ridiculously much. Also Mammon had taken this opportunity to "lend" some of his brothers possessions, arguing that he "needed those for the beach". This had worked until his swift fingers touched Levi's limited edition Ruri-chan sunscreen.

So, as Lucifer was spam-calling Belphie to wake him up and finally have him start packing, a sudden argument could be heard from upstairs:

"... How dare you steal my precious Hana Ruri 'magical sun ray protective lotion for all blooming heroes of justice'?! This very sunscreen is an homage to the legendary beach episode where Azuki-tan got a sunburn and couldn't help Ruri-chan in the intense battle against the evil kelp-army that was threatening to overgrow the local reef-"

"OKAY OKAY, HERE'S YOUR STUPID CREAM NOW LEAVE ME ALONE"

"S-STUPID CREAM?!?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW PRECIOUS THIS ITEM IS TO A FAN LIKE-"

That was all Lucifer could understand as an awfully annoyed scream Mammon let out was drowning Levi's gibberish. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Lucifer knew this vacation was going to be one intense experience...

An hour later, the group found itself where this little story had started off. The Purgatory Hall crew had already arrived long ago, enjoying the chaos together with MC -- who, btw, had been the only one to pass Lucifer's vibe luggage check right away.

Slowly it felt like most of the brothers were ready to go, only Asmodeus was left in the judgemental glare of the avatar of Pride.

But Lucifer noticed they already were way behind the time they were supposed to meet Diavolo at his castle. So, to Asmo's luck, he let off of trying to see what's inside the pretty boy's suitcase and announced the group's departure.

In enthusiasm shared by almost everyone, they let out a big cheer:

"Off to the beach we go!"

Some of the demons had whined about wanting to visit the human world beach. But as those idiot boys literally couldn't be trusted to act responsibly (which is okay, we love them regardless), Diavolo offered to stay at the beach resort he created in the Devildom.

Looking over the endless ocean, surrounded by the equally large beach and glistening in an artificial sun's light, MC was wondering just how powerful the demon prince must be to have created all this. But they were left only little time to be in awe over the location, as their friends demanded their attention shortly after having arrived.

Without going into much detail -- the day was packed with lots and lots of fun. MC was running around the beach, playing and goofing around with their friends, only to take a collective rest and then go do something silly again. Only a few other demons were to be found at the resort, but those were some acquaintances of Diavolo's family, and the group seemed to have scared them off of the beach after, like, an hour or so. Hence, the whole beach served as their playground for whatever activity they wanted to do, until in the afternoon, most of them were about to collapse from exhaustion and hunger.

"That's right, we didn't really have a proper meal since coming here" Asmo noticed as several tummy grumbles undermined his statement.

"We DID bring a picnic basket..." Satan mumbled. "But some genius had to let Beel carry it."

The culprit gave an immediate pout. "I had to hurry, 'kay?!" Mammon huffed. "MC was already at the beach and I--" he stopped. "... U-uh... I mean..."

Gaining a round of sighs and shaking heads, his brothers however decided to let Mammon's... mammon-ness slide for once. Mostly because, approaching from the distance, Barbatos and Solomon were getting closer, their hands full with bags that seemed to be stuffed with food.

"Y-yoU BroUGhT S-nAcKs?!" Beelzebub was already on his feet running towards them but Barbatos' stare was actually enough to make him stop.

"Not before the dishes are prepared, Beelzebub" Barbatos explained calmly, but with this very weird hidden tone in his voice that gave everyone chills despite the scorching summer heat.

"We figured everyone must be starving by now, so Barbatos suggested we'd make a little picnic party with everyone" Solomon cheered, presenting the bags in his hands.

"That sounds lovely" Simeon could be heard among the general noise of approval. "Let me help you prepare everything, Barbatos."

The demon butler beamed him a smile, thanking the angel for his help.

Then, Solomon spoke up again, and every bit of joy vanished from all their faces: "Thank you, Simeon! With the three of us working together the food will be ready in no time!"

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

Barbatos was putting all kinds of spices into a bowl to create a delicious sauce. Right next to him, Simeon prepared mouth-watering sandwiches.

And behind their back, there was this chopping sound. Chop reaching their chop ears in an chop never- chop ending thread, over and chop over again...

Swallowing his tension, Simeon was fighting a frown. "He's only cutting the fruits..." He whispered. "You shouldn't be able to mess up a fruit salad..."

"I know" Barbatos mumbled back. "However I cannot fight this unease that urges me to check if he's really-" He was interrupted by a very unsettling "oops" coming from that certain sorcerer at the cutting board.

In honestly quicker than the blink of an eye Simeon and Barbatos were at Solomon's side, frantically scanning the table for whatever Solomon must've messed up. When all they found were slices of fruit that, well, might have been chopped a bit wonky, they gave Solomon a confused stare.

"I cut off too much of this poor Hellberry's pull" Solomon explained. "Oh well, I'll just cut around the stem and add it to the fruit salad like this."

Both Barbatos and Simeon couldn't help but stare for a moment longer, their brains not really comprehending NOT finding an abomination in Solomon's cooking.

"Can I help you two with anything?" The sorcerer then asked.

"U-uhm, no..." Simeon mumbled. "It's all fine, we just..."

"We wanted to see if there's anything we can help you with" Barbatos jumped in to continue.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. Actually I'm almost finished, so maybe I can help one of you afterw-"

"Nononononono...!" Simeon almost whined. "I-its fine! We're actually almost finished ourselves, so..."

Solomon looked back, raising an eyebrow. "Doesn't look like it to me..."

Suddenly, another voice joined the group.

"I agree! You two are likely just being humble again" Diavolo had walked up to their working station a moment ago, but neither of them seemed to have noticed in their stress. The prince continued: "That's why I decided to lend you a hand as well. This is a vacation for all of us, so I should not burden my loyal butler with all the work."

"That's a commendable attitude for royalty like yourself" Solomon cheered. "Well then, I think Simeon and Barbatos could use a hand."

Diavolo was already squeezing his quite broad body into the tiny cooking space, this certain over-excited sparkle in his eyes as he mustered the food.

Barbatos and Simeon on the other hand were exchanging glances, so immensely stressed that their thoughts were almost audible:

'Barbatos I don't think I can handle any more of this stress' Simeon stared.

'We shouldn't have let Solomon help in the first place, our kindness was foolish' Barbatos stared back.

'What do we do now Barbatos this is the only food we have left, they cannot ruin it'

Thankfully, the perfect butler was not planning to let their "help" threaten the food for any longer. "Young master, I highly appreciate that you thought of my well-being. Which is why I indeed have a request for you and Solomon."

Simeon almost barged in on a frightened impulse, but Barbatos continued before anyone could raise their voice. "There is dessert stored in our hotel's main storage. Would you be so kind and bring enough for our whole group?"

A little surprised, Diavolo agreed. He waited for Solomon to finish cutting the fruits, then they went off to the hotel.

Finally able to catch a breath, Simeon shot Barbatos a last glance. "That was easier than expected. Why didn't we let Solomon bring the desserts earlier?"

Back to mixing spices, Barbatos didn't look up at the question. "What desserts?" He simply asked.

"... Uhm..." Simeon was quite startled. "Are there... Are there no desserts in the storage room...?"

"Oh, I sure hope there are" Barbatos said. "Otherwise I will have some explaining to do..."

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

(To be continued...)

Find my summer event Masterlist and Rules for the requests here <3

#obey me #obey me shall we date #clover's om summer event #thx for requesting side character content #i love them and had fun writing them! #the second part will drop as soon as i finish it #i hope its fun #obey me lucifer #obey me beel #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me solomon

[lovelystay]

ᕼᗩᑎᘜ ᑌᑭ - ᒍI𝚂ᑌᑎᘜ 🍒

(ᖇᗴᑫᑌᗴ丂T)

[Rᴇsᴜᴍᴇ : you’re on the phone arguing with an ex , you got pretty mad and your hands couldn’t stop touching your best friend’s thigh , as the call goes you get more and more angry , Han’s body pretty much paid for it even though you didn’t intented to , something you would’ve never thought would happened happens , he gets horny by your touches and asks for more.]

You finally hung up after 30 full minutes on the phone arguing with someone you hate after jisung’s request. Just the fact that this person even called you ruined your day . Toxic was the perfect word to describe him . It’s been months since you broke up with him , yet , he keeps blaming you acting like a victime because he said that you forgot him too fast and hang out with other guys while he was still not over you or whatever , just a dumb story honestly . Until now his messages and calls were getting ignored by you , but today was just too much . You wanted to enjoy your time at jisung’s place , chilling and watching movies together was the plan . But jisung told you to confront the ex that kept spamming you , he just said it as « you’re probably not actually going to do it haha» , so you did . During the call Han couldn’t keep the drink he had in his hands to stay still , he quickly regretted telling you to answer . You were too mad to pay attention to what your hands were actually doing and where . Unfortunately or not you got angry pretty fast and jisung’s body payed for it .

Phone in one hand and the other grabbing his thighs , it started on his knee but as the call progress your hand got up to his thigh close to his hips , the more you were screaming over the phone the more you were scratching his thigh .

He hated it he really did , he hated himself even more for getting worked up by such a dumb thing . Han was observing you , he never thought that you’d be so hot when you’re mad . You kept licking your lips and biting them , the only time you got your hand off him was to run your hand through your hair . His breathing could get irregular just by watching you .

Not only his thighs but you kept slightly touching his abs that he worked hard for . He kept drinking and drinking the juice to prevent himself from slipping out a moan choking on it from time to time , he knew that if you continued basically teasing him like that he wouldn’t be able to continue the night acting like nothing happened.

His pants were starting to feel really tight on him , his boner kept growing , jisung was definitely hard and he can’t really hide it anymore , you were definitely going to see it .

« Y/n » jisung said touching your sides a bit to make you notice him .

You looked at him and mouthed a « what ? » .

« Hang up please » he was getting really needy and desperate , but it was starting to hurt down there ...

Not caring about the person you were arguing with you just hang up while he was talking .

« What ? » you asked.

« Im really sorry , it might sounds weird , but you kept touching my thighs and abs while you were on the phone-« 

« Oh god i didn’t realise ! I think I got too angry sorry if I made you uncomfortable Han it was a mistake » you cut him off apologising thinking it’s going to make things less awkward . Jisung looks down embarrassed and ashamed , of course you weren’t touching him on purpose , he told himself .

You accidentally look down too and your eyes land on his crotch . Jisung realise and panicked hiding his hard on putting his hands in front of it not wanting you to find out anything . But as some seconds passes your head start working and you understand everything .

« Jisung you could’ve have told me before you could get turned on by having someone mad by your sides » you chuckled , his face immediately heated up .

« Did you ask me to answer the call because you knew I’d get mad ? And you’d like it ? » you continued , just messing with him .

« N-no no nooo , y/n I’d never » he replied .

« But what I’m seeing is telling me otherwise » you said eyeing down to his painful looking crotch again .

« Was It my hand grabbing you that made you so hard ? »

« Yes ... » he replies eventually giving in . A boost of confidence pops out of nowhere and jisung grabs your hands placing them on his aching dick , « can you take care of it? » . You were starting to be a little too dominant with him ,he felt weak ...

Surprised by his sudden attitude you don’t answer and let him guide you . While your hands are still in his he makes you stroke him up and down slowly but pressing harshly , not able to keep his neediness for himself anymore .

You start doing it yourself doing it just like he wanted it , already hearing whines coming out of his pretty mouth. Sliding down the couch you watch his hips getting up and down while you were placing yourself in between his thighs .

He lowered his head to look at you eyes full of lust and mouth open . You take off his pants and observe some red marks you accidentally left a few minutes before , Han looked as surprised as you « gosh I didn’t knew you’d leave marks » he said smiling , « sorry jisung It wasn’t on purpose » you replied actually feeling some pity toward him , it maybe hurts ...

« Don’t worry it doesn’t hurt , and to be honest it kind of looks hot » Han said as he was reading your mind stroking the top of your head .

You smile at him and refocus on what you were originally doing .

You lean your head in his thighs and place kisses on his underwear slowly , letting him enjoy the sweet moment. Seeing him moan with those simple touches encouraged you to go further . « Please stop teasing me y/n I don’t want to cum in my underwear like that » he told you , his body being all shaky .

You tell him okay and he take off his shirt almost suffocating because of the heat , you help him and take off his last piece of clothes which now leave him naked in front of you . His face is all red like he’s blushing , you honestly don’t know if it’s because he’s embarrassed because he is exposed in front of his best friend or because he got too hot .

Losing no more time you take him in your right hand and smoothly got up and down making circle on his head that smears all the leaking precum on him and your hand . He hisses at the feeling excited and ready for you .

You lean your head near the base of his shaft and lick it from there to the top , not moving your right hand too focused on your tongue . Jisung let out a long moan indicating that he is clearly enjoying what you’re doing .

You lick his dick a bit coating it with your saliva mixed with his precum before taking him in your mouth . Han starts to moan pretty loudly which you love , swearing from time to time , body melting on the sofa his hair was sticking on his head , his mouth started to feel dry because of how long he kept it open , but you made him felt too good down there he couldn’t think about anything else .

Keeping your head bobbing up and down his cock after all that teasing was so relieving to him , he wasn’t not going to be able to last very long and you honestly knew it too .

« Fuck y/n , you’re so fucking good » jisung moaned loudly , his hands were gripping the couch so hard his knuckles were white . His toes were curled up as well , so much pleasure was given to him by you how could he keep his body still ? The room was definitely smelling like sex , moan lust and sloppy sounds were dominating the atmosphere making you turn on as much as jisung was .Your knees were starting to hurt but the adrenaline made the pain go away pretty fast . Now the problem was between your legs , rubbing your thighs together wasn’t enough , jisung should pay you back for this , knowing how needy he is for you he’s probably going to ask first anyway .

His moans gets higher and higher , each one more louder , the grip on the couch gets even more tighter than before and jisung’s face got beautifully stretched by the pleasure . And he finally cum , his whole body relaxes and he let himself fall back into the couch , his sweaty skin sticking to it . You swallow and wipe your mouth not letting even one drip on the floor . « Y/n you’re an angel you know ? »

#stray kids fanfiction #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #Stray kids smut #han jisung smut #skz smut #jisung smut #han smut #needy jisung

[celticcrossanon]

I’m so sorry for the rant. I just needed to clear my head and got compelled to do it in your inbox. 🙇🏾‍♀️

Not a question just some thoughts. Sorry I’m spamming you so much. I just read your latest reading about the wanna be“tour” and all I can do is SMH. I think to some extent we saw this coming but they are dialing it up and expanding. Conscious humans would’ve called it quits by now. The Remembrance Day pap walk, Going to elementary schools, “donations”, writing letters like they are world leaders, etc. On one hand I can’t see this becoming much of a “thing”. I don’t think MM and Jarry will go on doing this for long unless they can get some Hollywood to pay attention and acknowledge them. I think another reason with the more public European Royals work so well in their media is because their countries are relatively small, like California and Texas are on the large side in comparison, am I right? So much can happen on one side of the country that I only hear of thanks to friends back in California. I can’t see these two visiting any farm in Montana as “royals” if ever. They got a Clinton and Perhaps more big names and “engagement” is to come (oh god 🤦🏾‍♀️) I’m sure they and the sugars are just loving it but it all looks, sounds and feels so incrediblly STUPID & ABSOLUTELY VAPID AND INSULTING. etc etc. I cannot stand entitled people and the fact that these two cut off, trashed, and demand from their own families for a fleeting moment in the spotlight is unfathomable. That’s a testimony to how strong narcissistic delusions can be. It must be the best high I could ever ask for. 🖤Im new to “Royal Watching” if you can call what I do ‘that’, so I don’t really care about all the other indiscretions. I don’t trust the media and I think it’s just the BRF turn in the hot sun to catch hell. See Andrew, see the Clintons and all the others. Whatever drama is going on with Charles, see the rest of big business. I’m a narcissistic abuse survivor and I still study on the disorder. Now here I am watching these two who make my skin craw, this train needs to SPEED UP . I think I’m just looking for a bit of JUSTICE in the world right now. Between this administration, COVID, my job and all my other drama (I’m sure we all have some, if not BLESS YOU and pass it on 🥺) I’m flabbergasted and a little sick in my stomach at watching yet another set of people be able to walk through life seemingly so unbothered. It’s like the world is closing in and I’m suffocating. 🖤Like, your telling me that just because he was born a Prince and she married him and found a way to have children they get to get away with all of this?. The entitlement, the lies, the forced Wokery, using heavy and important subjects like mental health and racism for a PR boost all just to get a⭐️ on the Hollywood walk of Fame? For a couple of royals they sure know how to dump cold water on ya, they are the epitome of LIFE ISNT FAIR. And I’m sure that all depends on perspective, for example; their sugars who must be going diabetic RN. THEY think they have suffered as well. Look at the Cambridge’s who have not put a foot out of place yet have to deal with these tantrums from all over their family. All families have drama and I can see how the Harkles and the rest could be a payback of the Firm and family as a whole. The Queen covered so much and never really saw that Henry and Andrew and god knows who else were set straight. Look what having so much privilege can do. But is there a limit, anywhere?🖤

🖤Anyways, another thought I had was, this could be the end for any thought of reunion. This Narcissist has worked her magic and this clueless tone deaf fool has really gone and done it. I was driving and I thought of Prince William and the entire remaining Windsors & Mountbatten Windsor’s and the whole Aristocracy cutting the Harkles off entirely because the BRF called a wrap (or had to) and the UK became a Republic after Her Majesty. MM get the privlage in her narcissistic head that she’s the last ever to become a Duchess, Cathrine wouldn’t become the Princess of Wales and it all came down in part because of her and Henry’s actions. Yes Andrew and whoever else aren’t helping but these two made it exceptionally difficult. I think they would take pride in that especially publicly but only when they are praised for it. I think the Cambridge’s would have an easier time with moving on with their family, free to live as they please with no pressure to serve the public. Cathrine can be “lazy”, sleep in, & raise her kids and Wills is free to🖕 the paps who would surely still follow them. A La “where are they now”. The two that would have it the worse are the Harkles as they last bit of what they had to separate them from the rest of Hollywood is gone, no more Royal sheen but they don’t have much now. It would be stupid to use the titles after an abolished monarchy but they’d do it and expose themselves further.🖤 If you made it this far, one last thing. I got cut off while driving. That’s not unusual in this Miami traffic and usually i ignore it but with my mental state I couldn’t help but to compare. it was a packed road and I just really wanted to know where the heck the fire was. Why did this person need to rush so much on a busy road that no one else mattered even though we all have somewhere to go? That’s how I feel about the Harkles. What’s the point, where are they going? They went to New England for Christ sake to play faux royalty, in more trashy outfits might I add. 🤦🏾‍♀️

I guess I do have a question, DOES THE WORLD REALLY BELONG TO THOSE WHO JUST Get UP AND TAKE IT?

Thanks for humoring me and providing this space. ✌🏾

Note: My apologies for this very long post, everyone. I can't put a page break in and the writer needs to let it all out. I am sure a lot of you will be feeling somewhat similar to them.

Reply under the cut, so this is not any longer

Hi april14vc,

You are welcome to rant here.

It sounds like you have a lot going on at the moment and it is all becoming a bit much to handle, as there is no relief anywhere. Is there something fun and relaxing that you can do for you sometime today, just to have a break from it all? I feel like you need to tune out for a bit and do something that is just for you.

I am so sorry that you suffered from narcissistic abuse, and so glad that you survived this. I think the Harkle shenanigans must hurt you in a more personal way than those of us who have never suffered under a narcissist. It is very hard to watch the Harkles seemingly get away with all their entitled abuse without any form of justice coming for them.

I think the Harkles are suffering. They usually are unable to get any sort of attention from the media unless they pay for it, and even then they don't trend - it is a 'blink and you miss it' situation. Look at what happened with Meghan's 40 for 40 program - it was dead in the water before the day was over, and she spent a fortune on PR for that. Compare that to the natural (not paid for) hype that surrounds anything that the BRF does, especially the Cambridges or HMTQ. That hype and attention is what Meghan wants, and she is not getting it.

What the Harkles are getting, and what they hate, is mockery. Look at the response to their Times 100 cover. Look at the comments on this pseudo-royal tour. They are a walking joke, and no narcissist would like that. They tried to cull all negative press while they were members of the BRF, were unsuccessful in stemming all of it, and now have no clout at all to stop any negative media attention. The Harkles may live in a delusion of success, but to the vast majority of people they are no more than very risible z-list celebrities.

The Harkles also have serious money troubles. They may be ignoring them, but those debts will have to be paid, one way or another.

What we are seeing now is the slow slide of the Harkles into obscurity, and their desperate attempts to reverse the process, which never work. They are no more popular and wanted now than they were at the time of Megxit, and in fact their popularity has declined since those days. They may look like they are winning, but it is all an illusion, caused by the amounts of money they are prepared to pay to give the illusion of wealth and star-quality celebrity. The paid for events happen, and then nothing. The paid for PR happens, and then nothing. Their slide downwards continues, and nothing that they do is reversing it.

Yes, at the moment they are on a high and beaming put of every report on their activities. Wait a week and then see where they are. This is like the Oprah interview all over again.

My next reading is going to be on the consequences of this pseudo-royal tour for the Harkles, so maybe there will be some justice for you there.

Edited to add: As for taking down the monarchy, I can't see that happening. For starters, the British government would have to put the matter to the people for a vote, and even if they are insane enough to do that, I can't see the British public voting to remove a beloved Queen because of the antics of two people who are despised that that country. The logistics of replacing the monarchy are also staggering - you have to rework the entire government of not just Great Britain, but of all the commonwealth realms who have HMTQ as Head of State, and that is not an easy task or a light undertaking. In addition, those Commonwealth Realms can keep HM as their head of state even if she is ejected by the British people (which would never happen, but I am stretching the bounds of probability here). After HMTQ comes Charles, who will have a short reign simply because of his age and health, and then William will be king, and he is also loved by the British public. I just can not see all that thrown away for the Harkles, who are rightly hated by the British public.

[pleathewrites]

boys, boys, boys

chapter 2: revelations

Summary: Does Iwaizumi have a thing for setters or do setters have a thing for Iwaizumi?

“Maybe Iwa-kun does have a thing for grey hair,” Sugawara muses, the tip of his index finger circling the rim of his drink. He’s got that signature sly smirk across the very lips that locked with Hajime's a decade ago. 

“Oh my God.” 

Hajime is seriously considering begging Oikawa to jump-serve a volleyball to his head and knock him clean out just so they can all stop having this conversation - ‘Hell, Tooru’s strong as hell now. Might knock the entire memory of this night right out of my brain, for good.’ 

“Hey, I just made out with him - and possibly gave him his gay awakening. But I wasn’t the one who convinced him to change his career.”

“Oh my God.”

“Wait, what are you - ”

“Daichi, baby, seriously, you need to go see that doctor. I am actively concerned about you developing early-onset Alzheimer's," Sugawara says, tucking a strand of Sawamura's hair behind his ear, his impish smirk melting into a fond smile, "Does Shiratorizawa ring any bells?”

“Hey, I have my own life to worry about! I’m not gonna keep track of someone else’s love life - no offense, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Hey, non-taken. Please, never think about my love life.”

Much to Hajime’s horror, Daichi’s expression turns contemplative, “Wait, actually, though -”

“Fuck -”

“… Grey hair, Shiratorizawa...” Daichi snaps his fingers and points his index at Iwaizumi with a much-too-proud smile on his face, completely unaware of the man’s rising irritation. “Yes, right! Iwaizumi, didn’t you..?” 

“Ugh, God, that one,” injects Oikawa. 

Hajime feels the vein on his forehead throb at Oikawa’s tone, “Kawa... why are you so shitty.” 

“Well, sorry, if I don’t like the edge-lord that busted my entire future!” 

“Oikawa… You are literally at the Olympics… for the second time...” 

“Yeah, with you on the opposing side,” Oikawa says with a closed throat, sliding out of the booth, and heading off to the direction of the entrance doors.

Hajime sighs.

 *

 Their loss to Shiratorizawa is soul-crushing - it always is. 

‘Always’ - that’s the most crushing thing, Hajime despairs, ‘We always lose to that school.’ And Hajime feels the blow, of course, he's devastated, but it’s not personal, hell, it’s not even for his team - ‘God, I’m such a shitty Vice-Captain.’  

No, the absolute heartbreak he feels is for Tooru.

Hajime loves his team, he believes every single member has outrageous talent, but he knows that all their abilities combined, including his own, wouldn’t even hold a candle to Oikawa’s blinding torch.

Shiratorizawa is a school for rising champions, Abo Johsai is a school for kids with talent.  

Oikawa Tooru is on a completely different level, it's a fact - he outranks his own team. It keeps Hajime up at night because he knows that if Oikawa had a team that matched his talent and ability, he would never have to experience such consistent defeat. 

In times like these, Hajime feels shameful and useless, ‘How long will I hold Oikawa back?’

Hajime knows Oikawa. He knows he’s the real reason Oikawa chose Abo Josai, that because Hajime wasn’t good enough to get into Shiratorizawa, Oikawa shackled himself to a team that weighs more than he can carry. It reminds Hajime of those free-body-diagrams from physics class that Oikawa had to explain to him ten times over; Oikawa is the upward force, striving for victory at the speed of light, Hajime is the opposing frictional force, and Abo Johsai is plain gravity times mass times sine (or was it cosine?). Hajime only managed to scrape a B- in that class, so the only answer he can give this problem is that Oikawa isn't going anywhere, any time soon. 

A harsh slap to his back snaps Hajime out of his thoughts. He jumps with the force of it and doesn’t even have to turn his head to know who’s hand is laying firmly between his shoulder blades. He keeps his eyes downcast, but Oikawa - a true Captain - doesn’t force Hajime to look at him when he firmly whispers, “Next time, Iwa-chan. We’ll get ‘em.”

Their coach takes the team for ramen, gives them a speech about being proud and working hard, all while Oikawa is making faces at Hajime from across the table and, slowly, Hajime begins to let himself smile.

Halfway through dinner, Hajime feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Thinking it’s his mother asking when he’ll be home, Hajime turns on the lockscreen and sees it’s an Instagram notification. He unlocks his phone and swipes down his Notifications - Hajime had to reset his phone notifications to conceal messages ever since becoming friends with Sugawara Koushi because the boy has zero filter and he doesn’t need his mom accidentally seeing messages with eggplant and squirting emojis, encouraging Hajime to make ‘his move’, whatever that means. 

EITA (@notsemisemi) has requested to follow you.

Now, Hajime is confused. He doesn’t even remember the last time he posted a picture on Instagram - he only really made the account because Oikawa started crying about, “Iwa-chan, I want to tag you in this picture, people should know that you’re capable of smiling! Everyone else has an Instagram, let me make you one, you won’t even have to do anything!” - so he’s not really sure how or why a random person requested to follow him.

'Maybe it's a spam account?'

He looks closely at the username and tries to think if he knows anyone with that name. When nothing comes to mind, he clicks on the person’s account and is met with very aesthetically angsty selfies of a grey-haired boy with sharp eyebrows and deep collarbones. ‘

He’s kind of…’ Hajime tries to think of the right words. He wants to say ‘pretty’, but that doesn’t feel right - Sugawara is pretty, Oikawa is pretty. Pretty people are soft and round and peppy. This guy is… 

‘Hot.’ 

And weirdly familiar. 

He elbows Matsukawa, who’s sitting on his right, and turns his phone screen towards the boy, “Do you know this guy?”

“Hmph?” Matsukawa’s lazy eyes roam over his screen and he swallows his food before speaking, “Yeah, isn’t that the reserve setter? He came in as a sub when Oikawa hit Shiratorizawa’s main setter.” 

Like a self-conscious self-absorbed bat, whenever Oikawa’s name is merely uttered, the boy in question will hear it, no matter what he's doing, “Eh? Oikawa hit who? I swear, it couldn't have been me, I’m a pacifist!” And he proceeds to put his hands up in surrender. 

The lightbulb goes off in Hajime's head, “Oh! When Oikawa jump-served the ball at that small guy’s face? With the uneven bangs?” He makes a downward sloping motion across his forehead. 

“Yeah, that one,” Matsukawa points to the phone screen, “Pretty sure that’s the guy who subbed for the rest of the set.” 

“Yeah…” Hajime trails, before adding softly, “He was good… Wonder why their coach didn't give him more playtime.”

Oikawa’s quick-clapping hands bring Hajime out of his thoughts, “Oh! I know what we’re talking about now! First off, I didn’t hit Shorty, he wasn’t fast enough, that’s the consequence of the game! Also, why are we talking about this?”

“Iwaizumi is on the sub’s Instagram page.”

Oikawa squeaks, “Is this about your grey-hair-slash-old-man fetish?!”

Hajime groans and facepalms, “No, oh my God, stop telling people I have a fetish, Shittykawa! He followed me.”

“Block him!” 

Hajime sighs, locks his phone, and puts it away, “Just forget it.”

“Hmph. That guy’s not even first string. What does he want with our ace?”

Hanamaki joins in, “I wonder why he’s not first string, though. I’m pretty sure he’s a third year, he’s been there every time we played against them. 'M pretty sure that Shorty is definitely a second year.”

Oikawa’s face turns from snooty to serious and he crosses his arms, “He’s good, but he lacks instinct. His technique is fine, but he doesn’t have what Shorty does. Maybe if he worked harder, but from the looks of it tonight, he doesn’t want it bad enough. He’s not on Shiratorizawa’s level - maybe he was once, but not anymore.”

'Not on Shiratorizawa’s level… Sounds like we might have something in common, after all.’

That night, before Hajime goes to sleep, he accepts EITA’s follow request and follows him back.

continue to read chapter

#iwaoi #iwaoi fic #iwaoi fluff #iwaoi fanfiction #iwazumi hajime #oikawa tōru #iwasemi #semi eita #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fic #HQ fic #hq #hq fic rec #hq fluff #iwaoi angst #iwaziumi x semi #iwaziumi x everyone #oikawa #oikawa angst #iwaizumi #iwaoi fanfic

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 11.3k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as the Lady in the first season of The Gentlemen.

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banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | many thanks to @joonsrack​ for her translations and @jooneggs​ for beta reading

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: just a heads-up, there is French in this chapter. it isn’t translated because y/n does not speak French and thus has no clue wtf goes On BUT if you want the goss, feel free to use google translate or ur Local Translation Engine. explicitly sexual content, cursing, voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, spanking, dom!jimin obv, sub!reader, public (not sex-sex but sexytimes in public), shoe kink, dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, use of safeword, teasing, bondage, gagging, use of sex toys, fingering, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, overstimulation, crying during sex, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, a sexy sliver of aftercare before yn zonks it

FAN FAVOURITE

On the sixth Day of every Week in the game, the Audience Fan Favourite vote is released for 48 hours following the post of the fic. Please note, this is NOT the elimination vote, which is taken on the seventh Day of each Week.

Please vote for your favourite member in the house according to Week One only. Vote here. Multiple votes are allowed but please do not spam the voting as this is an overall audience pick. I’m very excited to see what the results will be ! Voting is closed! Thank you for participating!

DAY SIX

You wake up early in the morning to a sore throat. Though the arm that rests heavy on your waist and the breath that tickles the nape of your neck tempt you back to sleep, you can’t even swallow without wincing, and the only solution is a cool drink and some pain meds. 

Namjoon doesn’t react when you slip out from under him, sliding your pillow under his arm. He simply lets out a satisfied hum and curls it closer to him. Still, you dress in breathy silence, tiptoeing out and leaving the door open a crack for your return. 

Downstairs, the blinking numbers on the microwave read shortly before 6am and you groan. The chance of you getting any more sleep after this was slim.

You pour some water and swallow some basic pain meds with a sigh. If you were honest, quiet moments like this were rare. Past the glass sliding door which leads to the outdoor dining area, you can see glints of reddy golds and flaming orange, pooling between trees to warm the concrete patio. This villa was truly beautiful, and you knew you’d never stay in a place like it again. Not only the house itself but the company you shared was invaluable. All the guys had such a personality to them, and you were surprised at how quicky you’d grown accustomed to them all. Fond, too.

Yoongi’s thoughtfulness, Jungkook’s energy, Jin’s stability. Taehyung who was so giving and Hoseok who never let the mood falter. And more recently, Namjoon becoming more confident and Jimin revealing flecks of heart behind the stone facade. Everyone brought something to the villa that made it a truly magical place. You feel like you’d be happy even without the mind-blowing sex. As the elimination day draws painfully close, your stomach turns with the thought of turning someone away. Of removing them when they’d only just gotten settled. The Lady was the hardest job in the game in many ways. 

Finishing your glass, you set it in the sink with a wet clink and roll your shoulders, arching your back as the last of your sleep leaves you in a final yawn. You turn to leave, squeaking when you’re met with a solid body coming out of nowhere. 

“Woah- Jimin?” The last person you expected to be up so early, you cringe as your voice raises in disbelief.

The man in question grins, eyes twinkling even in the relative darkness of pre-dawn. “Going so soon?”

“I-” You find yourself at a loss of words, feeling caught somehow, and you clear your still-aching throat. “What are you doing up?”

“Looking for you, little mouse. Or did you forget I’m next in line?” He speaks as light and melodic as a music box, but his lips are twisted in a grin as his eyes roam over you, wearing the same clothes as last night. “Has our Namjoonie finally popped his cherry?”

The way he plays with every syllable has you feeling so vulnerable, so under his control, and your gaze falters, looking instead at his odd attire. Like he’d gotten up in a hurry, he’s wearing a mix of pyjamas and clothes. His legs are tightly clad in glossy faux leather, blacker than black, and his top half is a silk pyjama top, sinful red trimmed with black, and with only a single button done up in the middle of his torso, exposing his lower stomach and the top of his chest. You suck in a breath at the expanse of skin, and what looks like the black sliver of a...tattoo? 

“Cat got your tongue?” he questions, drawing your eyes back up as he licks his top lip slowly, purposefully.

“It’s none of your business,” you reply, cursing the way your voice catches throatily, clearly affected by him. “And if you’re going to take your turn, can we at least go somewhere a little more comfortable? It’s six in the fucking morning.”

Like a switch is flipped, his face darkens, the humour gone. You swallow the lump in your throat as Jimin’s mouth sours into a scowl, but you can’t deny the heat that pools between your legs at it too. “I knew it,” he announces, voice acidic. 

“Knew what?” Your fate sealed, a streak of confidence rises within you. You’d ruffled him. And every part of you is screaming to make him react again. 

His eyes are molten power as they focus on you. “Five days and you’ve already become a spoilt brat.”

Your mouth drops open. “Fuck you! It’s your job to fuck me.”

“Why should I fuck you when you haven’t done a thing to earn it?” Jimin takes a step forward and reflexively you back up. “You’re an ungrateful cockhungry slut, little mouse. If you want me, beg for it.” He takes another step and again, you shuffle back, heart picking up.

“I shouldn’t have to beg,” you counter, though your voice isn’t as firm as before. Jimin simply raises a brow, continuing to walk you further into the kitchen until your lower back strikes the countertop. You swallow again, wishing you weren’t so easily affected. “If you don’t fuck me, I’ll just send you home.”

“You could,” he gives dismissively, lips twitching into a sneer at his following words, “but I don’t think you will. I don’t believe you’d send me home if I didn’t fuck you. Because you want to know how it feels.”

You bite your tongue, glaring up at him, at the way he’s so indifferent about it. “Fine. Then fuck me.” 

Jimin tuts reproachfully, his arms leaning forward to prop himself up on the bench behind you, caging you in. Your heart stops beating, the throb felt between your legs instead as he’s close enough to touch, his mouth close enough to kiss, not that you’d dare. “That isn’t begging,” he whispers in disapproval. 

“I don’t beg,” you insist, even as your hands clench, fighting the urge to touch him. 

Suddenly, the shadow over his face disappears, and he pushes up, creating some distance between you again. “It doesn’t matter, anyway,” he says airily, causing you to frown in confusion. “We aren’t at the begging stage yet. You know what you need first?”

You stare at him blankly, giving him a shake of your head. 

Jimin grins, and you swear you see his eyes flash. “Punishment.” 

“You can’t be serious,” you breathe, though instead of sounding offended as you intend, you just sound needy. Fuck Park Jimin and his iron grip on your arousal. 

His grin broadens like the Chesire Cat. “You’ve been very bad, little mouse. You’ve been demanding and impatient, you’ve used vulgar language and I seem to recall the night you interrupted my sleep because of how loud you were next door. I can’t let it slide,” he divulges with a solemn shake of his head, like your poor behaviour pains him, “I just can’t.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you say with a disbelieving laugh. “You can’t punish me like a child.”

“And that will be another one,” Jimin says instead, perfectly calm, rich blue hair catching the light as the sun continues to rise just outside. 

“Another what?” you fire back, beginning to tire of so much talk and so little action.

“Another spank,” he deadpans. Were it anyone else, any other situation, perhaps you would’ve laughed at it. Instead, you stare wide-eyed at the stoicism on his face. “That makes it five for swearing to me in this conversation alone, four for being impatient, and five for keeping me up that second night. Should we round it up to twenty?”

You stay silent for a moment, desperately trying to process it. You shake your head slowly. “You can’t make me,” you point out.

“Of course I can’t,” Jimin gives with a chuckle, running a hand through his hair as if to demonstrate how calm he is. Your eyes are magnetised by the silver rings that glint on his fingers, unable to keep yourself from imagining how they might feel on you. “You can always use your safeword, and I’ll respect it,” he continues. “But I doubt it. Whether you like to admit it, little mouse, you want this. You think I haven’t worked out that you a little pain with your pleasure?” He stands back, just a step, but the extra distance makes you feel suddenly unanchored, and you hate it. “I’m going to give you three seconds to turn around and bend over. If you don’t, I’ll walk away and you get nothing. If you take your punishment like a good girl, then we can talk.”

You huff, pressing your lips - and thighs - together in an effort to stay strong.

“One,” Jimin begins, eyes alight with bemusement. You don’t move, just sighing in annoyance again. “Two.”

Your incisors are clamped on your tongue so tightly you can almost taste blood as you glare intensely at his mouth. He draws it out cheekily, letting you wait painstakingly as he wets his lips and finally opens his mouth, the pink of his tongue pressing against his teeth as he-

Before you can process it, you’re flipping yourself around and pressing your upper chest against the counter, eyes squeezed shut in humiliation as Jimin begins to chuckle. 

It’s far too loud for the stillness of the early morning, and you muffle a sob in your forearm - not regret, but neediness. A week he’d deprived you, and the smug fucker was right: you’d take what you could get, and love it too. Blessedly, he doesn’t seem to notice the sound, the air filled instead with his triumphant peal of laughter at seeing you presenting yourself to him just like he knew you would. 

“Oh, little mouse,” he coos. “What would the others think if they saw you like this, hm? Bent over for me in the middle of the kitchen where anyone could walk in.”

You take in an unsteady breath, feeling your pulse race with excitement as his fingertips - still cold from the morning air - slip under your waistband, as he painstakingly slides it down, revealing your ass. You let out a small whimper when the toe of his shoe catches your ankle, pushing to widen your legs apart. You bite your lip, cheeks heating, core heating even more. 

Jimin runs his palms flat over your bare ass and you hiss through your nose at how icy his rings feel. While his hands are smaller than those of other guys of the house, you feel no less under their control, shivering at the contact. “Was it twenty we agreed upon?” His tone is light, playful. He knows he’s got you, and one final burst of defiance bubbles up through your chest.

“Fuck you,” you spit. “Does that make it twenty-one?”

You’re jumping before you even feel the lacing of fire on your right cheek or hear the smack that echos in the room. You choke on a moan, unable to deny how the pain settles into a low-burning pleasure that adds to the wetness between your thighs.

From behind you, you hear Jimin sigh heavily and quickly, like he’s trying to calm himself. “I want you to count them,” he instructs, and you flinch as his hand comes down on you again, but this time his slaps are weak, light swats that warm your skin to prepare it. “Twenty starting now. Understood?”

You bite your lip, but pull yourself up a little to free your face, propping yourself up with your elbows. You feel so vulnerable like this, just your ass bared, legs spread and at his mercy, but all you can think of is feeling his hand on you again. Blearily, you nod, and a pleased hum comes from his throat, barely audible. 

Jimin makes you wait for it, holding the silence so that your ears strain, fighting the urge to glance ba-

You jerk with a shallow cry as your other cheek stings with his smack, core clenching. “One,” you announce quietly. With every moment of sunrise, the room gets lighter and lighter, and you squeeze your eyes shut at the thought of someone walking in on the two of you. Was that dread in your stomach or excitement?

He doesn’t speak, only smoothing the skin to cool it before laying another blow, waiting for you to call out a shaky “two.” He’s wearing at least three rings, and you can feel them, more unforgiving than his flesh and painfully ice cold. You wonder in the back of your mind if they’ll leave marks. You can’t help but hope they do. 

You’ve made it to eight strikes before your knees begin to shake slightly. Every lick of pain simultaneously hurts more on the raw skin of your ass, but pools as liquid pleasure between your legs faster as you grow accustomed to it. Your pussy aches for contact, and you arch your back after the ninth spank falls, presenting yourself to him even more in the hopes that he’ll be tempted, but Jimin just tuts in disapproval.

“Look at you, little mouse. Soaking after a few spanks. You love this, don’t you? No part of you can deny it anymore.” You pant and bite down hard on your lip, wanting so bad to beg for it. Still, you refuse. Jimin just hums at your attempt at stoic silence, amused more than anything. “Almost halfway. It’ll be over so soon, don’t you think? We should make the most of this.” 

You frown at his words, more so when you feel the heat of his body leave you. You crane your neck automatically, spine lifting to stand, but his voice freezes you. 

“Fucking face the front and keep position,” he seethes, “I never said you could move.”

You sink back down, widening your legs and lowering your chest so it rests on the edge of the countertop, eyes locked onto the splashback in front of you. With ears straining, you shudder at the sound of a drawer sliding smoothly open, and the various clinks and thuds that follow as he rummages. Once the drawer shuts again and Jimin returns, you can barely breathe, goosebumps breaking out on your thighs and arms. 

He pats something against you, then slowly runs it over the heated skin of your ass, the slight friction making you hiss. “Do you know what this is? Feel it.” He continues to brush it around slowly, and you wrack your mind. It’s not metal or plastic - the texture is a little too rough and it isn’t as cold as his rings were. You hiss when you feel it dip down between your thighs, too low to touch you were you need it most. The shape is a tall oval, flat on one side but concave on the other, and you let out a low moan, back arching lower as you work it out. Jimin laughs, bringing it back up to tap it teasingly on your cheek. “I think you do,” he remarks. “Shall we continue?”

You bite your lip but it can’t fully cover the needy moan that spills out. He’s really about to spank you with a wooden spoon, and you’re really dripping for it. “Ye-yes,” you gasp out, a cry ripped from your throat at the first hit. It’s far sharper on your skin than his hand, whistling through the air and landing with a resounding smack. The sting lasts longer too, almost like you can feel the exact outline of the spoon on your skin. “Fuck, ten.”

When Jimin speaks again, his voice is rich with sadistic amusement. “Do you like it, little mouse? You should see yourself. The outline of the spoon just now, the marks from my rings-” he drags a single nail down one of the aforementioned marks, and you keen, the raw pain sent straight to your core, “you mark so beautifully for me. This perky little ass of yours is so red, you know? Should we make it even redder?”

Without waiting for your answer, he lands three smacks in quick succession - right, left, right again. Your body’s instinct takes over and you pull your body forward, tucking your ass in as if to escape it, even as your core throbs with need and your nipples press stiffly against your shirt. 

Jimin won’t have it, though, and you moan in a low keen as he wraps an arm low over your hips and tugs you back down, pressing the middle of your back with the fist and clenches the spoon so that you arch beneath it, dropping down that hand to run his knuckles lightly over your abused skin. “Shh,” he hushes firmly, “we aren’t done here yet. If it’s too much for you, you know what to say.”

Your heart warms at his reminder of your safeword, but you have no intention of using it, already melting under the additional physical contact. Instead, you lean back into his grip, presenting yourself for more. 

You sense rather than see his grin, but it makes you shiver nonetheless as the amused breath escapes his nose, his cool fingers running over your flesh, thumb and pointer as the rest wrap around the stem of the wooden spoon. “Are you gonna count them then, little mouse?”

Your mouth drops open to answer, but you pause, having to really think back. “Mm, uh, twelve? Eleven?”

Jimin chuckles, returning to those light teasing pats of the wooden spoon, just to make your thighs shake. “Thirteen, actually,” he reveals in a rakish tone. “If you wanted more, you just had to ask.”

Before your brain can process a retort, the spoon comes down again, an audible thwack that jiggles the flesh of your ass with the force of it, and you keen, knees buckling for just a moment. The contrast of intense stimulation of the fiery skin on your ass and the complete neglect of your needy core is infuriating but addictive nonetheless. “Fuck, Jimin, fo-fourteen.”

You automatically suck in a breath in the sudden lull as Jimin rears his hand back, but the quiet reveals a different noise, the laughing and joking and thud-thud-thud of people coming down the stairs, and you’re choking on the air in your lungs, freezing as two familiar faces round the corner and come to a halt as they witness the scene you’re in. 

Your legs shiver but your core throbs still as Jungkook and Taehyung watch you wide-eyed, eyes dancing in unision from Jimin, to you, to your ass and the spoon in Jimin’s hand. The cheeks of your face are somehow hotter and redder than the others, but regardless you stay frozen in position, waiting for someone else to make a move.

Unsurprisingly, it’s Jimin who speaks up first, the only one of you four unbothered. “She has six hits left, boys,” he offers up, patting your hip like you’re a ride to have a go on. “Any takers?”

Taehyung steps forward first, Jungkook’s mouth still hanging low. As you watch his slender fingers wrap around the handle of the wooden spoon, you shiver, and he chuckles at your reaction. 

“You know,” he muses casually, replacing Jimin behind you as the older man steps away to lean against the bench beside you, “I think I’m starting to warm up to this whole situation, petal. Where else would I get to walk in on a sight like this? And Jimin-hyung is so generous to let us help out. Thank him, Y/n.”

A breath rushes out of your throat, one you hadn’t even realised you were holding. Humiliation rushes through you, but it’s cloudy with arousal, and your tongue is loose with it. “Thank you, Jimin.”

“Good girl,” Taehyung coos shortly, and that’s the only warning before he’s swatting you harshly with the flat back of the spoon, and you let out a strangled moan. Your ass won’t stop stinging between hits, but you obediently call out ”fifteen, sixteen, seventeen,” until you only have three to go. 

Taehyung relinquishes his turn reluctantly to Jungkook; the youngest contestant in the house eying you up strangely, almost like he can read and understand the pleasure in the welts on your ass and the tremble of your knee. Almost like he’s been where you are, or somewhere close. Judging by the apparent variety of his streams, you don’t doubt it. 

Like Jungkook’s testing the waters, his first hit is the weakest, barely making you flinch. You exhale lowly in disappointment. “Eighteen,” you say, swallowing down the drool that threatens to gather. 

Before any more land, you instead feel fingers at your hairline, brushing back strands that have covered your face. Small but strong points of pressure light up on your jaw as Jimin pulls your chin to look up at him, his eyes swirling with deep satisfaction. 

“I wanna see the look on your face,” he announces quietly. “I want our Jungkookie to make these last two hurt. Will you take it for me?”

His voice brooks no disagreement, still dripping with authority and control, but you know that he’s once more giving you an out should you wish to use your safeword, so you nod shakily, eyes fluttering. “Please.” You’ve still received no friction - or contact at all - on your pussy, and you feel yourself going crazy. The pain is addictive, licks of pleasure that seep into your veins after every spank, but you can’t handle how you drip down your own thighs, soaking your panties even as they rest hooked just above your knees. Two more hits and you’d finally get what you needed.

You haven’t seen Jimin’s face this close, and certainly not seen his eyes in such intense detail before, and instead of anticipating the next hit you find yourself blinking up at him dazedly. His hair, the deep glossy navy that you’d never seen on somebody before, is swooped gracefully over his brow, which is still a natural black, and below it his eyes are molten with lust and satisfaction, watching your face intently. His hands are hot on your face, the rings cool points of unforgiving contact, and you can’t help but wonder if the plush pillows of his lips are warm like his hands or cool like his rings. They’d feel softer against yo-

“Fu-fuck!” you cry, eyes squeezing shut as two sharp hits strike you not on the already-red skin of your ass, but the tops of your thighs instead, just below the swell of flesh. It’s more painful than you’d expect, but you’re so turned on that your mind just screams better and more. Caught up in it, you belatedly gasp out a “nineteen, twen’y,” and feel yourself sink against the countertop, held up by Jimin’s hands on your face and jaw.

“Little mouse,” his voice calls out, and your brows knit together as you struggle to decipher his tone. “Little mouse.”

You force your eyes open, breathing heavily through your mouth as everything except the burn below and Jimin above fade away. “Jimin,” you whisper, lips barely moving.

His give a twitch, pleased. It warms your heart to see the flicker of approval. “What do you say, hm?”

You don’t even think, but your body knows the answer. “Thank you, Jimin.”

“I’m not the only one,” he remarks, though a pleased grin is evident on his face and in his voice. 

Truthfully, you’d almost forgotten the others, but as you thank them, eyes still locked on Jimin, you feel your toes curl at the realisation that you’re surrounded by three extremely attractive men. Men that are all here to-

The dopey smile of anticipation is struck from your face when Jimin abruptly lets go of you, pushing off the countertop. You stumble, catching your legs under you and fumbling to pull up your jeans reflexively. “Where are you-?”

You jump at the dull clang of the wooden spoon being tossed in the sink, Jungkook’s hand free as Jimin discards the tool. You watch openmouthed, panties and jeans barely on as the former rest uncomfortably soaked against your core, as the eldest of the three rolls his shoulders and sighs happily. “So, boys; should we make some omellettes for breakfast? I feel like cracking a few eggs.”

Taehyung grins and Jungkook’s gaze slides to you in uncertainty but the two agree, casually retrieving ingredients and utensils like you aren’t sitting there with a stinging ass and your jeans unbuttoned. 

“Jimin,” you mumble dumbly, and to your surprise he acknowledges you this time, walking over to stand in front of you with a congenial smile. 

“You’re done here, Y/n,” he announces. Unabashedly, his hands slip down and begin to fully slide your panties and jeans up, fingers slipping up the zip and buttoning them closed. “You didn’t want to beg, and I’m not going to make you. You took your punishment, so why don’t you toodle along? I’m sure one of us will call for you when breakfast is ready.”

Your mouth drops open, the final lusty haze of the scene evaporating fast enough to leave you reeling. “Are you serious? You aren’t going to do anything?”

Jimin’s eyebrows lower intently, voice hushing like he’s sharing a secret, even though Taehyung and Jungkook are right behind him in earshot. “Oh, little mouse. You know exactly what to do to get what you want.”

He waits expectantly, but your eyes dart past his shoulders to the other two boys. Begging was one thing, but in front of the others? You fight a pout, hoping your face looks angry rather than put out. “You’re an asshole, and I’m voting you out.” 

His grin broadens, wolfish. “Well then,” he remarks with an unbothered lift of a brow, “I better hurry up and make these omelettes before I get sent home, now, shouldn’t I?” 

And with that, he turns his back to you and begins chatting to his friends. You stay for one more moment of shocked silence, but soon turn tail, stomping back up the stairs with the wet fabric of your panties pressing coldly against you.

---

When you peek your head in the door, Namjoon is still asleep, so you quickly duck back into your room and change into some fresh clothes and underwear before going back in, content to chill on his armchair until he wakes. 

You’d told him you would stay, and the way the fabric of your leggings rubs against your sore ass when you sit only reminds you of the fact that you’d been gone longer than anticipated already. He looks peaceful, though, clearly quite content with the pillow you’d left him with. Namjoon’s mouth is parted slightly, slack and half-pressed into his own pillow. He clutches yours with both arms, snuffling or grunting in his sleep every few moments. 

You’re happy with just scrolling through your phone aimlessly for the half hour or so it takes before he wakes, back arching and neck cracking as he stretches. A beam broadens on your face at the dazed slow blink and wide yawn that he emits. “Sleep well?” you ask softly, not wanting to startle him.

He pats the pillow and mattress beside him in confusion, sitting up to stare at you with a squint. “You stayed?”

“I said I would,” you dismiss, a single thread of guilt wrapping around your heart at the memory of where you’d just came from. “I woke up a bit early and needed a drink. Sore throat.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen dramatically, the concern on his face ringed by a mess of tanged purple hair. “I’m so sorry! I should’ve asked…”

“You’re fine, Namjoonie,” you murmur. “I was actually wondering if you’d want to-”

You break off to the sound of what is undoubtably Jungkook belting out his lungs from downstairs, announcing breakfast is ready. Namjoon lights up, kicking the blankets off in a rush to get out of bed. “I’m starving,” he chimes, getting dressed without a shred of the self-consciousness you’d witnessed the night before. Hunger has seemingly stolen all his brainpower, and you follow his eager slipstream as he rushes down the stairs noisily, thumping into the kitchen. 

Both your heart and your core throb in disappointment, your opportunity for morning sex lost by the offer of a hot meal. Your mood sours even further when you come face-to-face with the three youngest serving up omelettes, Jimin smiling brilliantly, still dressed in a barely-buttoned silk pyjama shirt and some black glossy pants.

He barely spares you a glance, even as he sits almost directly across from you. You take a seat between Namjoon and Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin on the other side and the heads of the table kept by Hoseok and Yoongi. 

You have to admit that the wafting smells of cooked egg, cheese and various spices have your stomach grumbling, so you vow to ignore the unsatisfied heat between your legs and the smug man across from you and tuck in, your knife cutting through the omelette like butter. It’s delicious, and clearly everyone at the table shares the same sentiment, moans of surprised enjoyment filling the air. 

“I’m impressed, Jimin,” Yoongi admits, “the first time I’ve even seen you awake for breakfast and you make us this. It’s fantastic.”

His voice is melodic, teasing at your eyes even as you avoid looking at him. “Thanks, Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin replies warmly, “I was actually taught the recipe from one of my good friends who works as a chef in France.”

Hoseok isn’t impressed, and the way he scrunches his face up in annoyance makes you suppress a grin. “Let me guess, Remy the rat? If we dig around in that hair of yours will we find him tugging you around?”

Jimin ignores him coolly, knife twirling deftly around his fingers. “I haven’t seen Victor in several years, but his cooking lessons have always stuck with me. Dis-moi ce que tu manges, je te dirai qui tu es.”

“You are what you eat,” Namjoon muses, shoveling a wobbling stack of egg into his mouth. 

Your eyebrows lift, turning to him with shock. “You speak French?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jimin straighten in interest at the man directly across from him, but Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice, cheeks bulging as he hurriedly tries to finish his mouthful. “Took it as an elective in university,” he explains once he’s done, “never actually been to France, though.” He turns to Jimin finally, eyes shining with the spark of curiosity that always seemed to smoulder there. “What’s it like?”

“C’est incroyable,” Jimin enunciates, the French dripping off his tongue like sparkling water. “Tu devrais y aller un jour. Mon ami a un appartement à Paris avec une chambre d’amis dans laquelle je séjourne des fois.”

Namjoon gasps, and you glance around the table, everyone bar the two of them looking totally confused. “Avec vue sur la Tour Eiffel?” The only indication it’s a question is the way his pitch rises, but the rest is incomprehensible to you, so you just return to your omelette, content to watch the conversation play out like a foreign movie without subtitles. Body language and tone being your only clues.

“Bien sûr,” Jimin replies easily, his head tipping to the side, eyes burning as he stares at the older man, “mais on pourrait peut-être parler de choses plus excitantes que cela? As-tu apprécié la compagnie de Y/N dans ton lit hier soir?”

You straighten up as you hear your name, glaring at Jimin in suspicion. You’d never regretted picking Spanish in high school instead of French more. Namjoon, interestingly, seems equally ruffled by Jimin’s comments. “That’s really none of your busi-”

“Tu vas me parler en Français, Namjoon, ou je vais commencer à te poser des questions en Anglais. Qu’est-ce que t’en dit?  The choice is yours.” Jimin’s voice turns sharp, spitting out the syllables like jabs. The choice? In unison, everyone at the table turns to Namjoon in question as the academic flushes. 

“Fine,” he says shortly in English, before switching back to French. “On n’est pas vraiment... allés jusqu’au bout. J’allais lui proposer ce matin, mais tu nous a appelés pour le déjeuner. .”

Jimin’s mouth curls slowly, deviously, making Namjoon swallow. You feel your own cheeks heat at the thought that they were very likely speaking about you. “Is that so?” Jimin asks in English, head tipping slowly. He takes a single bite of his breakfast, making Namjoon shift awkwardly in his seat at the wait. “Well; I do apologise for interrupting.” You look up between the two of them. Was he referring to him spanking you that morning? Or him calling you down just when you were going to make a move? Jimin isn’t done, sliding down in his seat just slightly, so he’s leaning back. “Laisse-moi me faire pardonner.”

Namjoon’s brows knit and his mouth opens to reply, but suddenly he goes ramrod stiff, eyes flying wide open. “Wh-what are you-?” His chest heaves once, his throat bobbing as he swallows down the rest of his sentence. 

You frown, glancing down to see the shiny tip of Jimin’s shoe pressed firmly against Namjoon’s crotch, shifting back and forth. You look away, hoping to avoid attracting more attention to Namjoon’s predicament, but you can’t deny the hot rush of heat between your own thighs at the thought of Jimin getting Namjoon off at the breakfast table with just the sole of his shoe. You finish off the last of your omelette bitterly, hating the way that your mind wishes you were in Namjoon’s seat right now. 

Like nothing’s happening, Jimin continues to converse with his elder, the others at the table seemingly none the wiser. “Ce n’est peut-être pas une une chatte bien chaude et humide, mais tu es un bon garçon, n’est-ce pas? Tu vas prendre ce que je te donne, non?” 

“Jimin,” Namjoon croaks out, voice surprisingly steady even as it’s low with arousal, “i-is there any more batter left? I’d love another omelette.”

Jungkook pipes up, finally hearing enough English to be able to contribute. “There’s not much left, but I was actually thinking I kinda feel like some hash browns and bacon, so we could go for round two if anyone else is up for it?”

Yoongi and Jin, like they’ve been awakened with the promise of more food, drag their chairs back simultaneously to stand. “I don’t trust you with frying bacon, Jungkook,” Jin answers from beside you with a small grin, “let hyungs help.”

Half the table files away, Hoseok also joining those in the kitchen, probably because he’s hoping for some taste-testing, and you’re left with Taehyung being the only unaware party, on his phone as he mindlessly sips away at a glass of juice. 

“Regarde-moi ça,” Jimin announces with melodic glee. “il y a moins de regards sur toi maintenant. Les autres sont dans la cuisine, Taehyung ne nous prête pas attention, et Y/N sait déjà ce qui est entrain de se passer; regarde-la.”

You glance up at your name but Taehyung doesn’t even react, mouth slightly open as he focuses on the video he’s watching silently, pinky finger tapping at the condensation on the glass absentmindedly. 

Namjoon turns to face you, before glancing down at the shoe which rocks faster and broader between his legs, his cock tented and leaking a small wet patch in his trousers. He knows you know. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t-”

Jimin overtakes deftly, making Namjoon hunch over the table as the jerking of his shoe against Namjoon’s clothed cock speed up. Even as Jimin’s eyes are on you, he addresses the older man in lush French. “Est-ce que tu vas venir comme ça, hm? Crois-tu pouvoir rester silencieux?”

Your skin feels like it’s on fire, the heat stemming from between your legs as you wish you could’ve felt some contact from Jimin instead. Even just the sole of his shoe would be better than nothing, but it seems that Namjoon doesn’t share the sentiment, as his hand shoves at Jimin’s foot. “Rouge,” he gasps out lowly, and Jimin recoils like he’s been shot. 

Sitting upright, feet to himself again, Jimin’s eyes widen at the word. Even with the little to no French knowledge you have, you can guess the meaning. Red. Namjoon used the safeword. “I’m so sorry,” Jimin croaks, and you’re startled at the vulnerability and genuine apology in his voice, “are you not-?”

“Juste parce que je suis techniquement vièrge, ça ne fait pas de moi un soumis,” Namjoon explains with a rueful smile. You wish he would’ve spoke in English, but his light tone at least reassures you that he isn’t mad or hurt or upset. He mostly just seems a little embarrassed and overwhelmed. 

“Can we stop speaking in baguette?” Taehyung pipes up miserably, putting his phone away. “Oui, oui. Mercy. Oh reservoir. Anything more complex than that and you’ve got me lost.”

Namjoon frowns, bewildered. “Do you mean merci and au revoir?” 

“Do I?” Taehyung questions rhetorically, eyes dazed. Namjoon just shrugs hopelessly, but that seems enough for the black-haired boy. He cheers up a bit and, glancing at Namjoon’s hunched figure, lets out a short sigh. “You look tense, hyung. Do you need some help relaxing?”

Jimin bites his lip with guilt, and you hate the way you’re drawn to that pillow of flesh, so pink against the white of his teeth. What you wouldn’t give to lean over there and see what it felt like to kiss him. 

Namjoon, however, seems less concerned with Jimin. You get the idea that perhaps he’s not one to have a short temper or hold grudges. “It’s okay, I think I might have a quick shower upstairs before the second lot of breakfast is finished.” Displaying his characteristic shyness, Namjoon makes an awkward yet completely unsuccessful attempt to leave the room without revealing his tented crotch. 

Taehyung’s eyes follow it out until Namjoon’s out of sight, his mouth hung open. After a moment’s thought, brows knitted tightly together, Taehyung turns back to the two of you at the table. “Do you think he’s turned on by food or something? He did seem pre-tty eager to chow down that omelette. I should go ask him.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jimin sinks his face into his hands as Taehyung scrambles after Namjoon, and you honestly don’t blame him.

--

You manage to make it to late afternoon before you encounter Jimin again. After the meal, he speaks quietly to Jin and the two disappear into the private rec room. For you as well, the day is spent inside, Jungkook asking for your assistance in spotting him at the indoor gym, mostly so he can explain to you and Hoseok the extremely elaborate plot of his latest anime show while he lifts weights. You and Hoseok, completely lost, ended up spending hours there trying to understand all the character arcs and plot twists and backstories, eventually moving up to Jungkook’s room so he could show you the first few episodes. By the time he let you go, you made your way downstairs with a bag of laundry, having almost spent a full week in the villa.

Unlike most of the house, the laundry feels very basic and surburban: a front-loader, a dryer and a sink with some cabinets are really the only pieces of furniture, so you perch on the dryer as you wash, and the washer as you dry your load of clothes. 

Letting the regular thump of the drying machine lull you into a sleepy daze, you’re too zoned out on your phone to notice someone approaching until fingers wrap around your phone, pushing it down away from your face. 

Jimin’s still hasn’t changed out of his red pyjama shirt, and as you sit up ramrod straight and focus onto him, you admire the way the lapels lay open to expose his collarbones. “Fancy seeing you here,” he announces with a grin, eyes raking over you as you sit atop the washing machine. 

“What a coincidence,” you deadpan, crossing your arms. “I know what you’re doing.”

“And what would that be, little mouse?”

You fight the urge to press your legs together at the petname, Jimin’s eyes intelligent and self-satisfied as they watch you. “Coming here to seduce me.”

Jimin laughs, and your cheeks flush hot at the sound, his head tipping back to expose a graceful neck. “Oh, Y/n, don’t think so highly of yourself. I’m just here to do my laundry.” 

Dubious, you keep your legs dangling over the side and your arms crossed as you look down. True enough, a basket of washing rests and his feet, and you wait bitterly as he brushes your legs wider so that he can turn on the machine, selecting the right settings and pouring in a scoop of detergent. You keep a stoic silence, biting down on your tongue at his actions, but he doesn’t seem to care about your eyes on him.

In fact, he appears to openly thrive on it, sinking into a crouch in front of the machine and blinking up at you innocently, his face in front of your aching crotch. Refusing to give in, you press your lips together while he opens the door and deposits his clothes, socks, underwear, everything he’s been wearing the past few days. Once he’s done, you feel yourself relax a bit, but then he lets out a thoughtful hum.

“I suppose I should wash these too,” he muses, fingering at the bottom edge of his shirt, and your mouth goes dry. That fucker. He doesn’t even look at you as he undresses, but the smirk on his lips speaks volumes.

Your hips long to writhe, but you force yourself still as he unbuttons his shirt, opening it up and chucking it in casually, running a hand over his now-naked chest, quite literally rubbing it in. The most skin you’ve seen on him yet, you allow yourself to drink in the sight. He’s more muscular than you’d expect, though it’s all lean muscle, graceful yet speaking to a corded strength. 

Even though you know it’s coming, there’s nothing that can prepare you for the obscene sight of him pulling down the zipper of his black patent leather pants, revealing equally black boxers. He’s not hard, not even the slightest hint of a chub, and the thought infuriates you that he could make you so needy without even getting aroused himself, like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

As he lowers his pants down, his thighs are revealed in all their glory, the thickest part of him. They flex as he lifts each leg, tugging off the pants fully and tossing them in. Though you hadn’t noticed before, now is the first time you’ve seen him without his shoes on, and you marvel at the fact that he loses none of his power like this, that it really comes from within, from his piercing gaze, knowing smile and confident posture. Chucking them in the washing machine too, he pauses for a moment, lip tugged up in a smirk, before his ringed fingers find the elastic waistband of his boxers.

Startled, a breathy, “Jimin,” falls from your lips unbidden, barely audible.

“Hm?” Jimin has no regard for modesty as he bares himself fully, cock twitching as you stare, wide-eyed. “What’s the problem, little mouse? This is a shared facility.” He chucks the slip of light fabric amongst the rest of his clothes and shuts the lid, pressing start. A gasp escapes you as the machine kicks into gear, already beginning to shudder and rock under you, sending vibrations to your needy core. 

As you stare, Jimin stands in front of you, resting a hand on the edge of the machine, right between your splayed legs. His dick is slowly plumping up, the man completely unbothered as he lowers his free hand to press at the skin around it, sighing. 

Your fingers clench into fists as your arms remain crossed, pussy thriving and dripping with the pleasure after so long, but cursing that his hand is so close yet so far to your clothed cunt. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you spit, leaning back and tipping your head up to stare stubbornly at the ceiling. The image of him, his naked body is still seared onto your eyelids and you let out a huff. “You have no shame.”

“Shame never seemed like a particularly useful quality to have.”

“I’m not giving you what you want,” you insist, voice trembling slightly - though you blame the steady jarring of the washing machine that runs from your core all the way up to your teeth. 

“Then I could say the same to you,” you hear Jimin reply easily, before letting out a suspiciously low groan. 

Your head shoots down and you gawk at the way he grasps himself, fully hard now, and runs the crook of his pointer finger over his weeping head. His cock is gorgeous, the hair above trimmed neatly and the tip arcing towards the ceiling, towards your shocked stare as he smears the glistening precum around his head, hissing at the coolness of his rings on the heated skin. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” you utter in complete bewilderment. “This isn’t washing your laundry!”

Jimin hums, head tipped back and eyes slipping shut in indulgence. “I can leave to jerk off alone if that makes you more comfortable?”

You fall silent, eyes locked onto his languid strokes. That isn’t what you want at all, and he knows it. “Jimin,” you murmur lowly, captivated by the slow drags of his hand on his cock, rings glinting wetly. He makes a noise of response, almost lost in the mechanical whirring and thudding of the washing machine that stirs in your loins. Your voice is barely louder than his. “Jimin, why are you making this so difficult?”

His head tips back down, lips parted and eyes lidded. “Oh, little mouse,” he sighs, “do you wish you could touch? Do you wish I was inside you?”

You glance again at his hand, resting mere centimetres away from your core. “You know I do,” you admit in a small voice.

“Then beg,” he replies simply, hand slowly picking up speed on his dick. “The only thing that’s keeping you horny and unsatisfied is yourself. You could’ve cum three times already if you knew what was good for you.”

You sigh, licking your lips needily. A light ding echoes in the room; your washing has finished in the dryer. You ignore it. “Please, Jimin.”

Jimin’s eyes open fully, locking on you with a smirk. “Closer,” he answers, teeth exposed as he grins just slightly. Still, though, he continues to stroke himself, even going so far as to take a half step forward to rest the underside of his cock against the washing machine, groaning at the vibrations. 

You huff when you realise he isn’t going to speak further. “You do realise I could just go get myself off, right? You don’t have all the power here.”

You know you’ve said the wrong thing when his cheeks lift, lips spread wide in a teasing sneer. “We both know that’s not quite true. Perhaps I don’t have all the power, but a little birdie told me that you’re no longer allowed to put your hand in your own pants. I don’t suppose that rings a bell?”

He knows about Hoseok’s deal. Perhaps they all do. In an effort to wipe the smug look off his face, you scoff, spreading your legs wider in a show of relaxation. “Well then, I guess I might as well go upstairs and ask Hoseok to fuck me. I bet he’d do a better job than-”

Like lightening, his hand leaves his own cock and lashes out, fisting your shirt in his hands and tugging you forward, hard enough that you have to quickly uncross your arms and grab onto him to stop your foreheads from knocking together. You gasp at the fiery look on his face, his voice a sharp growl. “If you think he can fuck you half as good as I can, you’re dreaming.”

“Wha-?” you make out, so close that your breath ruffles the wisp of hair that swoops over his brow.

Just as quick as he grabbed you, Jimin lets go, stepping away. “Your laundry is ready,” he announces lowly. “You’ll be waiting outside my bedroom door in two hour’s time or you won’t get anything at all. Clear?” 

Startled, you nod, jumping down off the mid-cycle washing machine, your legs feeling wobbly with the sudden withdrawal of vibrations. Grabbing your washing out of the dryer, you rush out the room with one last glance at him before the door slams and locks behind you. All is silent in the hallway as you ascend the stairs, but internally you scream with excitement. 

--

Two hours drags and stretches and then snaps, everything too slow and then too fast until you’re knocking on Jimin’s door, stomach swirling sickly with anticipation. 

He takes his sweet time answering, heightening your heart rate, but by the time he does it takes your breath away. He’s in a different pair of black pants, jeans that are skinny enough to make his legs seem a million miles long. His chest is fully covered this time, but it’s a transparent white mesh singlet, a white pressed blouse with gold buttons and cufflinks unbuttoned at the top to expose it. His lips, plush as ever, are covered in a sheer gloss that glints in the light and his eyes are intense in the frame of thick lashes and a hint of shadow on the lids, warm and smokey. As usual, he’s laden with jewellery, his classic silver rings paired with a pair of thin dangling chains from his lobes that sway hypnotically when he tilts his head in greeting.

You, too, had dressed for the occasion, seeking out your prettiest pair of lingerie - a black lace set with embroidered vines and buds around the hems and cups. The only thing you’re wearing on top is a black silk robe tied lazily around your waist. Thanking your lucky stars nobody had wandered into the upstairs hallway while you were waiting, you step inside, the thick carpet under your bare feet muffling your steps.

Jimin is back in shoes, and you bite your lip when you recognise them as the ones he’d worn at breakfast just that morning. It feels like days ago, your heightened arousal the whole day stretching time into an eternity. 

“Kneel,” he instructs shortly, pointing at the carpet in front of him. For a moment you hesitate, but you'd gotten so far and it would be foolish to test your luck and risk getting thrown out with nothing yet again. Besides, part of you wants to see what he'll do when you're actually good for him. You kneel.

His room is perhaps one of the largest excluding yours. His bathroom door is shut, but even just the bedroom has room for a queen bed, two nightstands, a dresser and a chest at the foot of the bed which you're facing. You wonder idly if he'd paid the staff off for the biggest room, but before you can ponder much more he steps in front of you, his crotch right at your eye-level. You glance up him, sucking in a breath at how perfect he looks glancing down at you.

You lick your lips in anticipation, and it draws his attention. "This pretty little mouth of yours," he muses, reaching out to run his fingers over your lips, tugging down the flesh to watch it bounce back. Your chest puffs in pride, mouth practically watering at the thought of sucking him off. You part your lips when he presses on the seam, and his first two fingers delve into your mouth, slowly thrusting so that the pads run along your tongue, making you drool around his digits. You widen your jaw obediently, eyes pleading. But his face changes, then, a frown clouding his features. "More trouble than it's worth," he decides stiffly, and suddenly your mouth is empty, Jimin wiping your saliva off on your cheek before he turns his back to you, opening the chest.

Your mouth stays slack and open, but for a different reason. From what you can see, the wooden box is filled with toys, slips of fabric and leather, metal chains, everything. Suddenly, something catches your attention. At the bottom right corner, the initial PJM have been gracefully engraved, painted in with a glossy black ink. This is his, you realise, what he uses for his shoots. You feel your panties dampening between your legs as he rifles around.

When he turns back around, you recoil slightly, recognising the buckled contraption he comes up with. A ball gag. He smiles wickedly at your reaction, standing over you and running his hand through your hair, combing it back from your face. "This is a good thing, little mouse," he explains, tapping your lips twice to indicate to widen your jaw. You obey in a daze, feeling the sphere of unforgiving black plastic fill the front half of your mouth, your teeth keeping it in place. "Now you won't be tempted to run your mouth. Isn't that thoughtful of me?" You glare up at him as the straps wrap around your skull, his deft fingers tightening the buckle just enough so you can't spit the ball out. Your breath comes through your nose now, huffing at him.

He chuckles, crouching in front of you. It's overwhelming, suddenly having his face so close again. The perfect swells of his cheekbones, the sculpted brows and intelligent eyes so intensely locked onto yours. "You can't speak now, little mouse. So your safeword is going to be non-verbal. Click your fingers once for yellow, and over and over as much as you can for red. Okay? Click now so I know you can do it."

You click your fingers, feeling your chest ease slightly with the reinforcement of your safety net. The moment you're done, however, that warm concern vanishes, and he straightens up, turning away from you yet again.

"You're lucky," his voice announces, leaning over to dig in his box of tricks, "normally I'm not so generous. Normally I wouldn't let you cum until you'd well and truly earned it. But those cries of yours on the Monday night..." He trails off, spinning back on his feet to face you, a pair of leather cuffs in his hand, unconnected with heavy duty silver loops dangling from them. His eyes pierce you with a hint of vulnerability that you don't think he even realises he's showing. "You drive me crazy, Y/n. I want to hear you cum over and over and over again for me."

No matter how much your chest rises and falls, you feel breathless, eyes wide. Unable to verbally respond - though you don't even know what you'd say - you just give him a pleading gaze, hips rocking against the bottoms of your feet in search of friction.

He lets out a breath, stepping forward. "Take off your robe," he instructs with a rough voice. Your fingers fumble with the slack knot, hurriedly shedding it and tossing it away, leaving yourself in just the lingerie. "Fuck," he says with a breathy chuckle, "you're gonna be the death of me, little mouse. Wrists."

You clench your teeth around the ball gag in a keen at his words, lifting your arms up to reach him.

One at a time, he fits on the leather cuffs. They're relatively wide, though not too thick, and once he does up the buckle on each one you feel your eyes flutter. Something you'd never felt before but it's divine, the way they wrap so snugly around your wrists, not only a physical anchor, but a reminder that you're his, letting out a low moan when he slips a finger in one of the silver loops, tugging to ensure the fit.

Jimin's lip twitches at your reaction, and instead of telling you to stand, he uses the hoops, pulling your wrists up by the cuffs until you stand to ease the pressure, stumbling slightly as you get off your knees without your hands to assist. He leads you to the head of the bed, where you see the two chains that wrap around the bars of the headboard.

"On," he instructs, letting go so you can clamber up, sitting as you await further instruction. "On your back, darling," he coos, pressing at your shoulder so your head rests back onto the pillow. Automatically, you lift your arms, pulling a smile from his lips as he loops the chains through the silver hoops of your cuffs, spreading your arms wide apart, knuckles brushing against the wood of the headboard.

"Don't go anywhere," he remarks teasingly before leaving you, retrieving a few things from the chest. You tug slightly at one of your cuffs, testing it, and muffle a groan at the feeling of being trapped, tied down and at his mercy.

When he returns, his hands are full, and he tosses the fruits of his labour on the bed beside your torso, getting up on the bed to sit between your legs. You gasp when he tugs your ankles firmly, making you slip down so that your arms are straight, less room to struggle. This way, too, you can barely crane your head up, chest blocking your few of the toys he's brought over.

"Now," he says with a patient sigh, fingering the hem of your panties, "let's get rid of these, mm?" You lift your hips obediently when he goes to slip them down, curling your toes at the sudden cool air on your pussy. "Fuck, look at you," he gushes lowly, his fingers running up and down your slit so light you can barely feel them, making you whimper. "So fucking wet, little mouse. I haven't even touched you."

You lift your head to moan at him, trying to get out your plea, though your words are unrecognisable through the ball gag.

He pouts teasingly, rubbing the flat of his palm over you, slicking up his hand. "Oh, poor baby. The mean old Jiminie kept teasing her, did he? Baby just wants to cum?"

You groan, eyes scrunching shut as you nod your head. Even the simple touch of his hand between your legs is so good you could cry.

You tremble when you feel two fingers slip inside your wetness, a tight fit but one that lets him in so smoothly with how much you're soaked for him. He finds your g-spot with an almost supernatural ease, rubbing at it with the pads of his two fingers, curling inside you. You let out a strangled groan which makes him chuckle.

"I'm being generous now, aren't I? Say thank you, Y/n."

You sob. He knows full well you can't speak, but you obey nonetheless, letting out an unintelligible garble of your thanks.

"Good girl," he coos, and your legs fall apart wider in bliss as he begins an indulgent pace, the cool bands of his rings when they plunge inside you addictive. The second his thumb lifts up and begins rubbing at your clit, you're already on the edge from being deprived so long, and you cum almost immediately, shuddering around his fingers at the deep but powerful satisfaction.

You come down from your high relatively quickly, but he's already slipped his hand out, and you glance down in confusion, only to choke on a moan when you see him, tongue poking out slightly in focus as he uses your own slick to lube up a dildo, a powder pink silicone one that's roughly the shape of a cock, but far smoother, getting wider at the bottom for a place to hold it.

Once he's done, almost without acknowledging you, he grips your knee, making it bend and your leg lift higher up the bed, spreading you wider open for him, the other one still flat on the mattress, splayed wide.

"That was your warm-up, little mouse, I hope you enjoyed it," Jimin remarks with a grin, and you breathe heavy around the gag, back arching as he presses the head of the dildo into you.

It's far wider than his two fingers, and the stretch dumbs you, making your mind slow to a halt to appreciate every inch that fills you, dragging against your sensitised g-spot. Jimin's knuckles bump your clit when he bottoms out, and you shiver, the dildo so deep inside you.

"Let's get started, shall we?" he declares rhetorically with a wolfish grin, and once again your eyes squeeze shut when he begins a bruising pace, every strike spearing you open and making your eyes water. Your spine hitches as you writhe beneath him, but his grip on your bent leg is too strong, and no matter how hard you clench he drives the dildo so fully inside you that your mouth is slack, wide enough that your teeth don't even clamp around the ball on your tongue. With an open mouth, more sound comes through, and you hear the room filling with the wet sound of him fucking you with the dildo, but also your own moans and hiccuped screams.

He fucks you to the edge faster than you can comprehend. There's so much pleasure on every stroke, and he's using so much speed that it feels like you can't take it, like you might explode, but still he pins you down, letting you yank at the cuffs that bind you as you're forced to cum violently around it, thigh muscles clenching as you try to clamp your legs around the intrusion.

"Fuck, that's it, don't stop cumming," you hear him growl, and you sob with pleasure as your orgasm morphs quickly into oversensitivity, but Jimin never lets up for a second.

Your eyes water, tears slipping down over your temples as he continues to fuck you, and suddenly you no longer feel his hand on your leg, it flopping down weakly as fingers tap over your hand.

"Don't forget the signal," he instructs as you sob and writhe, "I'm not fucking stopping without it."

It takes you a moment to process that he's asking about the safeword, but as overwhelmed as you are, you don't want him to stop. "Hngingn," you cry, his name coming out jumbled through the ball gag, and your legs automatically lock around his hand, seeking to stop the roughly thrusting dildo, but his spare hand just rips your legs away, one of his jean-clad knees pinning down your shin and your screams reach a new pitch when you feel fingers strumming at your clit, the pleasure like a million needles, making your hands fist.

After an eternity of going crazy with overstimulation, you pass a bend. The pain turns back into pleasure, and you settle, going quiet and shifting slightly to seek it out, eyes rolling at the rhythmic rocking of your hips as he fucks you with the dildo.

"That's it," Jimin guides, breathless with exertion, "I want you to cum again, little mouse. Clench tight for me."

You do as he says, eyes so blurry you can't even see anything but the patch of blue in your vision, his head bobbing slightly as he speaks.

Without thinking, you follow his instructions, and like clockwork a third orgasm rips through you, taking you by surprise as the extra pressure of the dildo on your g-spot plunges you over the edge. You hadn't even realised you were close, but clearly Jimin had, and you tremble beneath him, letting the waves of pleasure flood to every corner and crevice of your body, your fists tightening and your toes curling. You weep openly at how good it feels, whimpering when his fingers on your clit stop and the dildo slows, slipping out of you one last time with a slick noise.

You're sweating, twitching, trembling, but still you manage to blink away your tears and focus on him blearily as you feel him removing the ball gag from around your head, fingers gentle as they massage your jaw slightly, letting you close it and lick your lips, feeling the ache.

"Did so well," he praises, and you pant happily, a lazy smile stretching out on your face as your tears begin to dry. The sound of a zip makes you frown, so you glance down to see Jimin already fisting his own cock, just as red and needy as the last time you'd seen it. You whimper as he shuffles forward, lifting your legs up into the air to spread you wide for him.

Almost forgetting you can speak now, you whimper wordlessly for a few moments, before making out a weak, "Jimin," tone pleading.

"Shh," he coos, his cockhead tapping at your drenched entrance, making you shiver. "One more, little mouse."

"I can't," you sob, chest hitching as he slips into you, just bigger than the dildo. You let out a reedy cry at how he strikes you're abused g-spot, and his fingers massage the backs of your thighs soothingly.

"You can," Jimin insists, fucking into you slowly, making you hiss every time, "just one more for me. You have your word."

You sob at the overstimulating madness as his pace picks up, driving so intensely inside of you, but you don't use the safeword. There's a kind of euphoria bliss to being stretched to your limits, pushed so far, and you trust him to take care of you, want to do a good job for him.

So you shake your head, moans blending into cries blending into whimpers. "Fuh-fuck," you gasp as once more sharp stimulation turns warm again, and you near a fourth orgasm. You shiver under Jimin, his thrusts so deft and powerful, jerking your body in rhythm. "I ca- I can't cum again," you admit shakily, "'s too much, Jimin, I can't take it!"

Jimin grunts with the force of his thrusts, but his hands are gentle as they keep your legs spread. "You're almost there, little mouse, you're doing so well."

Your back arches violently when he drops one of your legs to rub at your clit, fresh tears streaming into your hairline. "Fuck, oh god, I'm gonna- fuck!"

You stream as your final orgasm takes you like a train, and a feeling you've never experienced rushes through you as you squirt, thighs clamping iron tight around his hips as he curses at the sight and spills into your trembling body.

Even in the throes of his own orgasm, you feel Jimin's hands pass up and begin releasing you from the headboard, your arms falling limply as he cups your face, barely even rocking into you as every slight movement plunges you into oversensitivity.

You gasp, trying to catch your breath with closed eyes as this thumbs brush away your tears, his cum hot inside you.

"God, Y/n, you were amazing, did so well for me," he confesses lowly in your ear, and you let out a whimper as he presses a single kiss to your cheek, the most tender he's been with you so far.

"Did well," you repeat mindlessly, "Jiminnie."

"You did," he promises, and you hiss as he pulls himself out of you carefully, the feeling of his seed mixed with your own cum flooding out down onto the sheets. "God, look at you," Jimin muses under his breath, surely not meant for you to hear.

Barely conscious, your eyes flutter, and the last thing you remember seeing is him stripping off his expensive white cotton blouse, cleaning you up with it so gently that you barely feel the sting on your clit.

FAN FAVOURITE

On the sixth Day of every Week in the game, the Audience Fan Favourite vote is released for 48 hours following the post of the fic. Please note, this is NOT the elimination vote, which is taken on the seventh Day of each Week.

Please vote for your favourite member in the house according to Week One only. Vote here. Multiple votes are allowed but please do not spam the voting as this is an overall audience pick. I’m very excited to see what the results will be ! Voting is closed! Thank you for participating!

TAGLIST

Okay real talk doing 5 ppl per comment takes fucking AGES so imma just try 45 since last time 50 didn’t work.

@agustdpeach @tinysweetscrown @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​ @saikokirastuff​ @kim-ji-woo-hoo​

@starryskyslove @taemetiger @wildly-lost-lantern @mini-coop25 @bbbrats

@crafty-babe @megahwn @sope-and-shine @kuppyjiminie @igot7-penta-seo

@brooklyn11208 @taetaehooray @heathenssss @ironicarmy @mykingdomismyheaven

@franklytae @ddaenggtan @scribbleseas @ex-silent-reader @lovelysky15

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@swanqook @parksfilter @jungtaeyoongles @lilylovsu @kaitlynmarie1120

@karma299 @tearkth @hjordan1994 @bangtan-dreamland @sarcasmflowsinmyveins​

The rest will be in the comments!

Unable to tag @risefallrise @btsphdotcom @kitty-queen-13  @stardust-and-ashes@crazykpopaddict @positivelyjada @paradisetaemin  @awixxx @litty-dumb @passionate-love-57911 @sweeneyblue1 @carrooooooooo @purplepearl07

#ficswithluv #maknaesmutsociety #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #btswritersnet #magicshopnet #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanhq #bangtanidx #smutcentralnet #ksmutclub #jimin smut #bts smut #jimin x reader #bts x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #minjoon #minjoon smut #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #jin x reader #bts series

[babycracker]

HELLO 🙌🏽 pls can we have a jordam kith with celebration + in a bar

THANK YOU BECKY!! sorry this took me so bloody long to get to, but i’m killing 2 birds with one stone this month and answering some of my waiting asks for some prompts, i hope this is ok!!

kissing prompt list (always accepting)

--

Luck Of The Unit - Day 5 prompt from @wayhavenmonthly​: Bar

Rating: teen & up Pairing: adam du mortain/f!detective (jordan mills) Word Count: 1147 Warnings: alcohol consumption A/N: i’m so late omfg. but i’m getting started on catching up, so i might spam ppl over the next couple of days until i’m back on track. i have no excuse, just haven’t been motivated, sorry!

--

Jordan can't pretend that she doesn't care that Adam won't be here to celebrate her birthday. Of course she wants him here, of course she's upset that she's not going to get to see him until she goes into the warehouse tomorrow. But at the same time, she knew with certainty what she was getting into when she started a relationship with him, so she probably doesn't have a reason to dwell on it too much.

"Jordie!"

She can't help but push the thoughts of Adam out of her head when she hears Felix's cheery voice booming out over the noise of the crowd, and she turns just in time for the young vampire to barrel into her, the tight bear hug he wraps her up in the only thing that keeps her from falling over.

She returns the hug, grinning over his shoulder at Nate who is watching the exchange with a smile. At least some of Unit Bravo bothered.

She can't stop herself from casting a quick glance around the room though, just in case Adam changed his mind. Evidently not, though. Felix follows her gaze around the room, then gives her a shrug and a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

"His loss, babe," he reassures her, and she waves his concern away dismissively, despite the fact that she knows he's not buying her nonchalance.

She manages to have a decent night, despite Adam and Mason not making an appearance, largely thanks to the amount of alcohol Tina keeps practically pouring down her throat.

Her eyes are somewhat blurry as she stands at the bar, waiting for the rowdy group of guys at the other end to finish ordering drinks for their table, so she sits up on one of the stools to wait, one elbow on the bar and her chin in her hand.

"You bummed that Adam didn't show?" Tina appears beside her, a look of sympathy on her face. If Jordan wasn't already tipsy she might make fun of the way her words are slurring together. But as it is, she barely notices.

"A little," she answers slowly, letting her head fall down onto the bar and pretending not to notice the sticky something that she feels on her cheek. "I'm happy that everyone else is here though."

Tina's barely paying attention, her eyes fixed on something behind Jordan for a moment before leaning over to kiss her cheek and give her a light pat on the back.

"Spoke too soon," she says with a grin before moving away. Jordan rolls her eyes at the weirdness, turning back towards the bar and resting her chin on her hand again, her hand now laid out flat on the surface of the bar.

She startles when a familiar hand rests on the bar beside her, and she eyes it for a moment as she tries to muster the strength to turn and look at who's behind her. Before she can, another hand slides lightly up her back and while she's still trying to decide how to react, she feels Adam's breath on her ear.

"Happy birthday, Jordan."

She grins, but fights the expression away before spinning around atop her bar stool to face him.

"I think I'm annoyed with you," she states, trying to narrow her eyes at him but the amused expression with which he's fixed her is making it difficult to remember why she's annoyed.

"Why is that?"

She thinks for a moment, then lifts a hand to poke him in the chest as his other rests on the bar, boxing her between it and the bench.

"Because you weren't here."

"I am here now. And you are intoxicated."

"Maybe I wouldn't be if you'd been here earlier."

He raises an eyebrow disbelievingly, "wouldn't you?"

They both know it's an outright lie and while she feels significantly less drunk now that he's standing in front of her, she still can't be bothered maintaining the ruse.

"Why are you here, anyway?" she asks instead, and he glances at the crowd around them before leaning in to speak in her ear.

"It was pointed out to me that if I am to be your… partner, I should make more of an effort to be with you on occasions such as this one. Even if the setting is less than ideal."

He is still yet to call her his girlfriend, and she doubts that he ever will. But "partner" is something that he's only recently started, so she's running with it. It probably describes them better anyway. Partners are equal, partners make a choice every day to remain in a partnership, it's not done out of perceived obligation.

"Pointed out to you by who?" She asks, genuinely confused. Felix and Nate have been here for hours already.

"Mason," he answers shortly, and her eyes widen a fraction in surprise before she scans the bar behind Adam.

"So where is he?"

He chuckles and shifts closer to her, coming to stand between her legs, and if she wasn't still feeling a little buzzed she might be surprised by the proximity in such a public place. "Being that he is not your partner he didn't see it as necessary to show the same level of support."

She shrugs dismissively, forgetting about Mason just as quickly as she'd thought of him now that she has Adam here.

"Well thank you for coming."

He doesn't answer, just ducks his head down to press his lips lightly to hers. This time she is surprised by the public display of affection. So surprised that she almost forgets to kiss him back until one of his hands moves from the bar to the back of her neck.

She's vaguely aware of hearing the bartender finally reaching her side of the bar behind her but she doesn't acknowledge her, far less interested in drinking than taking in the fact that Adam is tonight disregarding his own rules around being around a mass of humans socially and publicly being with her, seemingly just to make her happy.

She grabs the lapels of his jacket and uses them to pull herself up closer to him as she deepens the kiss, groaning softly when his tongue slips into her mouth.

"You taste of vodka and… flavoured sugar," he points out, and she shrugs and raises an eyebrow at him.

"Maybe you should have gotten here earlier, then."

He chuckles, not bothering to answer her and instead just kissing her once more, light and quick before straightening back up away from her. She turns to begin her wait for service again, his hands coming to rest on her waist as he remains behind her.

"Happy birthday," he repeats in a murmur against her neck, and she brings a hand up to rest on the side of his face before turning to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you, Adam."

--

tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @oxjenayxo @mmerengue @agentsunshine @bravomckenzie @freckles-spangledvampire @mistyeyedbi @kelseaaa @detectivewiseman @amlovelies @forestcreatures @maraudern05​ @adamdumorpain​ @zevorah​

#lucky21 #luck of the unit #the wayhaven chronicles #prompt ask #adam du mortain #jordan mills #kat writes

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Thin Ice Pt 3 || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: The decathlon team gets snowed in and room 401 and 412 decide to play truth or dare. 

Word Count: 4.3k

Author’s note: Wowie this took a long time to write but I’m glad I finally finished it!! Hope everyone is safe and remember, if you need toilet paper, just use the shower to wipe your ass!

Warning: Swearing, teen drinking, mentions of sex, forced kiss kinda 

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || to be continued 

Cindy rummaged through her luggage as you mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, spamming through Flash’s insta-stories of the day. MJ laid down right beside you on the hotel bed, making a quick joke about how he probably buys his followers. 

You had all just eaten dinner and the chaperones had made their last rounds visiting rooms when the news of an incoming blizzard was heading straight towards the resort. It wasn’t meant to cause any damage but your whole trip itinerary would have to be pushed back a day or two depending on when the blizzard would stop.  

You were slightly glad that this storm had decided to roll through because that meant that when it cleared up, there would be hardly anyone on the slopes so you could snowboard without the fear of running into a child on skis. 

“ Found it! Who wants to go first?” Cindy asked as she pulled out her bag that was filled with various facemasks. 

You and MJ both looked up for a second before turning back to your phone screen unphased. 

“ I’ll pass. Last night you made me try it and I couldn’t wash off the pink tint. I looked like a freaking pokemon,” You shivered as MJ laughed beside you. 

Cindy got up from her spot on the floor and plopped down beside you, grabbing the phone away from your hands. 

You protested as she held the phone above her head, catching a glimpse of your case,” Seriously? A spiderman phone case? Are you and Flash a part of some creepy fangirl club?” 

MJ watched as you leaped up and snatched your phone from Cindy quickly, immediately turning it off in the process. You looked at the nightstand beside you as you laid back onto the bed, pointing to her phone that was charging. 

“ Oh so you rather me have a hello kitty one?” You teased as you lightly pushed Cindy away with your foot,” what are you twelve?” 

Cindy wasted no time and grabbed your foot and pulled you off the bed, causing you to let out a yelp. You landed on your butt as MJ peeked over the bed to make sure you were okay. Once she saw that you were fine, she just shook her head at the two of you and laid back on the bed. 

“ Hello Kitty is for all ages thank you very much,” Cindy defended as she sat down on the bed and held up a blue container,” Come on MJ. This is a collagen one from Korea and you know us Asians have great skin.” 

MJ rolled her eyes at Cindy but sat up from her spot,” Fine, as long as Y/N does it too.” 

After a minute of whining, you and MJ both found yourself sitting upright with a scented sheet mask covering your face. You continued to scroll through Instagram when Betty entered the room holding the ice bucket to her chest. 

“ Guess who I just ran into?” Betty asked excitedly as you all perked up,” and might I say, a girl might be catching feelings.”

“ What? Are you talking about Mr. Harrington?” Cindy laughed as Betty put down the ice bucket and stuck her tongue out in disgust. 

“ Gross! I mean I did see Mr. Harrington going to the jacuzzi but I’m talking about Ned! Since the chaperones already checked the rooms for lights out, he’s thinking we can all hang out in our room!” 

“ Who’s we?” MJ asked as Betty started to clean up her clothes from off the floor. 

“ Everyone in his room so Flash, Brad, Peter, and obviously Ned. What else are we gonna do all night?” Betty asked as you pointed to your face. 

“ Um hello? Facemasks and talking shit all night sounds like the perfect plan to me,” You shrugged as you turned on your phone and looked through your messages,” plus what if we get in trouble? You know Mr. Harrington will have an aneurysm if he finds four boys and four girls in one room.”  

You were already in a weird spot with Brad since this afternoon and you knew that he was the type to hold grudges. You couldn’t imagine being in a room with him and all his attitude but at the same time, you wanted to hang out with Peter. 

Betty zipped up her luggage and put it in the corner next to the other mini-fridge,” Y/N, I know you didn’t go but we almost died on our last two trips. Considering all that happened, I think us watching a movie and playing charades with a bunch of science nerds will be harmless.” 

Sometimes you envied how everyone seemed to bond over the last two trips for the decathlon team but then you remembered the falling elevator story at the Washington Monument and the droid attack at the Tower Bridge in London. While no one died, you were glad you weren’t apart of that “bonding experience” and you knew if you wanted to bond with people, you would stick to just trust falls exercises. 

“ In that case, I call dibs on Flash!” Cindy shouted as she raised her hand promptly, earning a confused look from everyone in the room,” What? Have you seen his house? Securing Flash means securing his bank account and I’m trying to financially invest in my future.” 

“ Then I call Brad!” Betty raised her hand but lowered it when she made eye contact with you,” wait nevermind. I forgot about how close you and Brad are.” 

“ First off, it’s 2020, we’re not claiming anyone,” you said as Betty rolled her eyes,” secondly, you can have him. I’m not interested in him or any guy right now.

It was half true. You couldn’t care less about Brad going out with someone, even if it was one of your best friends and the idea of you and Brad together made you feel so uncomfortable. 

You didn’t really have a crush on anyone but there was something about Peter that made you drawn to him. You didn’t know if that meant you had a crush or not but when the idea of him coming into your room and seeing you in a face mask in your pajamas made you feel embarrassed.  

Before Betty could confront you with your lie,  you all turned your heads when you heard a knock at the door. 

Your heart stopped and now you weren’t sure if you were more nervous to see Peter or Brad. 

Betty calmly made her way over to the door even though you knew she was a nervous wreck on the inside. Once you heard the boys start to come in, you took off your facemask and rubbed in whatever moisturizing element it had left. 

MJ had done the same but instead of throwing hers away, she made it into a soggy ball and threw it at Flash, who shrieked in disgust. 

“ Did we miss the sexy pillow fight?” Brad asked as he smiled at you, almost like he hadn’t gotten mad earlier. 

You decided to let whatever happened this morning slide but once you caught eyes with Peter, you felt anxious. 

“ Hey, we’re twinning!” You said as you pointed to your Harry Potter pajama shorts and Peter’s sweatpants to try and calm your nerves,” I never pegged you as a Gryfindor Pete.”

Peter looked down at his pants and chuckled lightly,” I never thought I was either.”

 He wasn’t going to lie, he wore those on purpose cause MJ had texted him that you had a similar pair in your luggage and he liked the idea of you two matching. 

“ Is that alcohol? How did you sneak that onto the trip?” Cindy asked as she grabbed the bottle from Flash’s hands,” We could get in so much trouble.”

“ Only if we get caught,” Flash said as he opened up his backpack and brought out plastic cups. 

He passed one around to Ned and Betty but when he came to Peter, he just stopped and scoffed,” Are you sure you can handle your liquor? The girls probably have some apple juice in the fridge for you to drink.”

Truth be told, Peter couldn’t handle his liquor at all but that was before he had powers. Now, he could forever say goodbye to hangovers and embarrassing drunk encounters. 

It wasn’t like he was a big drinker pre or even post-spider bite but his body operated differently than a regular teenager so instead of passing out after two shots of Remy Martin, he could easily call himself a heavyweight. 

“ I think I’ll be okay,” Peter said plainly as he practically ripped the stack of plastic cups out of Flash’s hand causing Flash to flinch. 

Peter passed one to you as you hesitantly took it from his hands. You were second-guessing everything and you weren’t sure if it was the paranoia of getting caught or the mix of alcohol amongst the group. 

Brad watched you from his seat on the ground and shook his head, letting out a tsk from his lips,” You’re not fooling anyone Y/N, you don’t drink.” 

The hell was that supposed to mean? 

Brad knew you all too well, you almost made it through high school without drinking (with the exception of your aunt’s wedding where they served champagne) and you didn’t want to ruin your streak now. 

At the same time, peer pressure was real and while no one was asking you to drink, you still felt like you almost had to. 

You shrugged and handed out your cup to Cindy so she could pour some of the Smirnoff into it,” There’s a first time for everything I guess.” 

Everyone took a seat on the ground in a circle, with Peter on your left and MJ on your right. Brad and Betty both made a toast and before you knew it, you took a sharp sip of your drink and coughed after you swallowed it. 

“ Yeah, okay that freaking sucks,” You cringed as you put your cup down beside you.

You felt better knowing that Flash and Betty both had the same reaction but you were a bit surprised how easily Peter took down the shot. Peter noticed you from the corner of his eye and pretended to shudder, even though it almost tasted like water to him.

After about a half an hour of mingling and drinking amongst yourselves, you could already feel the alcohol running through your system. You didn’t feel nauseous but if someone had asked you to spin around in a circle, it wouldn’t end pretty. 

You watched from your spot on the office chair as Brad made his way over to you, smiling wide. 

Here he goes, you thought as he sat down on the desk and looked down at you. 

“Y/N, you look mad.”

“ I’m chill but clearly something upset you this morning,” You said as Brad shrugged plainly and took another sip,” what’s been up with you? You’ve been dodging me all day.” 

From the outside, Brad looked fine like any other tipsy teenager but you knew better. There was something behind his eyes and you could literally see the gears spinning in his mind. 

“ I can’t be protective of you?” He asked as you responded with a confused mm as you took another small sip of your drink,” obviously I’m talking about you know who.”

You watched Brad’s gaze fall over to Peter, who was sitting on the bed beside MJ and Cindy deep in a conversation. You rolled your eyes and you gave Brad an unconvinced look. 

You were many things but being someone who needs protection was definitely not one of them. You knew Brad long enough to know that he had never cared about any guy being around you but for some reason, he was so threatened by Peter. 

You knew if you said it out loud, Brad would just get madder like earlier but deep down, you knew he was jealous. What made you even more upset was that this jealousy practically came out of nowhere and you and Peter only started to hang out just this morning. 

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your pure frustration alone but once you opened your mouth, any chance of having a PC filter was gone,“ You don’t have to worry about Peter, he’s a good guy. I like him so do me a favor and stay in your lane.”

Before Brad even had the chance to reply, Flash grabbed the bottle off the dresser and sat down in the center of the hotel floor. 

“ Lets play something cause I’m bored as hell. How about a friendly game of spin the bottle?” Flash suggested as everyone was adamant on playing something else,” you guys are so lame, would you rather play truth or dare?” 

MJ poured herself another small amount and handed the bottle to Ned, who immediately passed the bottle away from him. 

“ That’s so cliche,” MJ groaned as she looked down at her cup before taking it all down,” but I’m in. If you don’t want to answer or do the dare, you gotta take a shot no matter what.”

You shifted in your seat and mentally cursed. You hated truth or dare and frankly, it was the dumbest game to suggest especially since you knew that most of the group wouldn’t be down to do a dare that was too risky. 

On the other hand, you were the type to always pick truth because you rather let people know your deep dark secrets than lick a toilet seat. 

After a few rounds of Flash running through the hallway in just his underwear and of MJ switching clothes with Brad, it was Betty’s turn to pick who was next. 

“ Okay, my turn... Ned,” Betty said, catching Ned off guard,” Truth or dare?”

Ned looked around and shrugged, looking visibly uncomfortable,” Truth I guess.”

“ Do you want to get back together with me?” 

You were the only one to gasp and you covered your mouth in shock when you realized no one else had the same reaction,” Sorry I- you guys dated? Since when?” 

“ Oh right I forgot to tell you, we were a couple during the Europe trip but it ended when the trip did. You really missed a lot,” Betty explained as she moved her attention back to Ned, waiting for a response. 

Ned looked at Peter who only nudged him back in response which made the situation even more awkward. Instead of answering the question, Ned took down his shot like a champ and shook his head,” I’m not falling for that one.” 

The room busted out in ooos as Betty’s face grew red. She quickly composed herself and poured herself another drink,” Your turn then.” 

Ned looked at Peter as if he was asking for permission but Peter shook his head. Peter knew Ned wanted to be a good wingman but Ned tended to take the title too seriously and go overboard. 

“ Okay then I’ll pick Peter,” Ned said as Peter’s hands started to feel even more sweaty than before,” Truth or Dare.”

If it was anyone else asking Peter, he could easily choose Truth and move on with the game but because Ned was in control and knew too much about his crush on you, he was worried that something would slip. 

“ D-Dare,” Peter stuttered as he cleared his throat, his eyes locked on Ned as if he was pleading to have a normal dare that didn’t involve you. 

Ned smiled and looked over in your direction as his plan started to come together. 

“ I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”

The room grew silent for only a moment before it bursted out in mixed conversations. All eyes were on Peter and he could feel how hot his ears were burning from embarrassment. 

Peter tried to play it off and lifted his cup in the air,” I’m definitely not doing that.” 

Cindy groaned from her seat and sat up on her knees,” Come on Peter, it’s just a kiss. It’s not like it’s your virginity or anything.”

“Cindy!” Betty smacked Cindy’s thigh sharply as if she was a child acting up in a grocery store. 

“ Ow! I didn’t even say anything bad,” Cindy rubbed her thigh but glanced over at Peter,” I’m sorry but even if you are a virgin, that’s not a bad thing!” 

You and Betty both gave Cindy a ‘Stop Talking’ look and you turned to Peter, his face flushed by now. 

“ If he doesn’t want to do it, he shouldn’t be forced to,” Flash said as he leaned over and poured a shot out for Peter,” but just for the record, he totally would’ve kissed Y/N.”

“ N-No I wouldn’t!” Peter stammered, feeling completely mortified. 

“ You hear that Y/N,” Brad smirked as he looked between you and Peter,” Peter doesn’t think you’re pretty. I on the other hand-”

“ That’s not true!” Peter shouted over Brad as he turned to you sympathetically,” Y/N I-I do think you’re pretty!” 

“ Um, thanks Peter, you too,” you said simply as you tried to catch up to the conversation. 

If you could be honest, you felt like you were on a five-second lag thanks to how much you had been drinking and you weren’t processing what everyone was saying as well as you should’ve. You weren’t really paying any attention to the conversation until you heard the word virginity and your name. What you did notice the whole night was Brad’s small attempts to get you a bit annoyed while flirting at the same time.

Since you two had been friends for so long, you knew how he operated and whenever Brad liked someone, he would always make little jabs as if girls fell for that kind of stuff. You needed to get him alone to set him straight because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship over his small crush on you. 

You shook your head at Brad as he watched you pour yourself another shot that was almost triple of what you took earlier. 

“ What were you saying Brad? About Y/N?” Cindy asked as you looked over to Brad who only shrugged. 

“ Nothing I was just going to ask Y/N truth or dare,” Brad said as Ned shook his head. 

“ No it’s Peter’s turn, those are the rules remember?” Ned insisted as he gave Peter a quick look. 

Peter had nothing against Brad but Peter wasn’t stupid or blind either. He clearly had feelings and wasn’t going to waste any time going in for the kill. If it was any other guy then maybe Peter had a chance but Brad Davis? Not only did Brad have an advantage since you two were friends for so long but Brad was practically a clone of you. 

You both had similar interests, identical backstories, and the same sense of humor so of course Peter felt threatened. 

What was worse was that Peter could tell that Brad knew about Peter’s feelings for you so now, it was almost a competition for Brad. 

“ Oh come on, he doesn’t mind,” Brad laughed as he looked at Peter and tilted his head to the side,” do you Pete?” 

Peter only nodded as Peter took his shot and crossed his arms over his chest. You weren’t sure why you were feeling particularly bold today but when Brad asked you truth or dare, you chose dare. 

“ I dare you to do seven minutes in heaven with me in the restroom.”

You leaned back onto your hands and tilted your head to the side. If it were any other day, you would’ve passed on the offer but this was just a game to Brad. He knew you would say no and that would prompt Brad to make even more jabs towards you for being a prude. 

“ Okay Davis, I’ll bite,” You grabbed your cup and drank the whole thing before handing it to Peter,” see you guys on the other side.” 

You got up from your seat as Brad followed you closely,” Don’t wait up guys.” 

Peter clenched his jaw as Brad gave a thumbs up to Flash who was whooping in celebration. 

Once the bathroom door had shut, Flash nudged Betty and stuck his tongue out,“ They’re gonna get down and dirty-”

“ Shut the hell up, Flash!” Peter didn’t even realize he had said it out loud until he noticed that everyone was staring at him. 

Peter’s face flushed a deep red and sighed deeply before grabbing his phone and got up from his seat,” It’s late. I’m going to bed.” 

Everyone watched as Peter practically stomped out of the room and was fuming from head to toe. 

Once you were in the bathroom, you sat up on the counter and looked up at Brad, who just locked the door. 

“ I know what you’re doing Brad,” You said as Brad leaned against the counter next to you,” you’ve done this move before on Katelyn Gomez at the homecoming after-party. I’m not stupid.”

Brad smiled innocently as he ran his fingers through his hair,” I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can’t I just have some quiet time with my girl?”

You let out a dry laugh and shook your head, you really couldn’t believe what was happening. You heard the main hotel room door slam shut which made you turn your head to the door. You didn’t hear anything follow up so you turned your attention back to Brad. 

“ That’s my point, I’m not your girl,” You motioned between the two of you with your hand,” this is not a thing and will never be a thing.”

Brad acted shocked and placed a hand over his heart as if he was in pain,” Why do you love breaking my heart?” 

“ You’re my best friend Brad which is why this can never happen. I mean come on, my mom used to bathe us in the same tub when we were younger!” You exclaimed as Brad shooed your hand away. 

“ Okay fine, we have history but there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not asking you to marry me I’m just asking for a chance,” Brad sighed as he moved over and leaned closer to you,” are you really saying that you don’t have feelings for me?”

You looked down at Brad’s hand and back up to his face. Brad looked at you longingly with puppy dog eyes but you were smart and you knew better than to fall for it. 

“ I have feelings for you... but not the kind you have for me. I love you Brad but as a friend. I trust you more than anyone else I know and I like being a part of your life,” You watched as Brad nodded softly,” our friendship is so important to me and I don’t want to ruin it.” 

For the first time ever, it was like you had left Brad speechless. You could tell how hurt he was and it made your heartache. Brad was never someone to take things so seriously, especially if it was with a girl. Brad could be rude at times and a little too sarcastic for your liking but so were you. 

“ I’m sorry,” you said, trying to interrupt the silence between the two of you. 

Brad shook his head and bit his lip, a habit that he had been doing since he was six whenever he was nervous,” You don’t have to apologize. I’ve been a dick to you lately and I’m sorry...Can I ask you for something? It’s okay if you say no.”

You nodded and squeezed Brad’s hand,” Yeah, anything.”

“ I know you want us to be friends and I respect that but...do you think I could kiss you?”

You tensed up as you shifted against the counter,” I don’t know Brad..”

“ I’m not asking to make out, I’m just asking for a quick peck on the cheek,” Brad stammered as you nervously bit the inside of your cheek,” pretty please?” 

You thought things over in your head but all you could think about was Peter. What would he say if he found out? You shook your head and tried to get Peter out of your head, why would Peter care? Better yet, why were you thinking of Peter right now?

“ Okay, but only if it’s a cheek kiss.”

“ Deal...okay can you close your eyes?” Brad asked as you rolled your eyes but did so anyone. 

You sat there with your eyes closed and shook your head,” You’re so weird Davis.”

After a few seconds, you felt Brad move off the counter and scooted between your legs. You felt him place his hands next to your thighs and leaned closer to you,” Ready?”

“ Whatever man just do it. God this is so weird,” you mumbled as you heard Brad count down from 5 to 1. 

When he got to you, you expected to feel his lips press up against yours but when you felt his lips against yours, you opened your eyes in shock and pushed him away with your hands. 

“ What the hell Brad! You said it was a cheek kiss!” You shouted as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand. 

“ I-I’m sorry” Brad backed away from you and rushed for the door handle,” I’m going to go.” 

Brad didn’t even look at you as walked out of the door, leaving you alone in the bathroom. You couldn’t believe your best friend just kissed you and you were somewhat thankful you felt nothing but disgust from it. 

Peter. You rubbed the sides of your temple in frustration as you thought of what would happen if Peter found out. Your heart sunk as you thought of why you didn’t want Peter to know what had happened between you and Brad. 

Damn it, you had a crush on Peter. And you were pretty sure he felt the same way. 

@holland-in-disguise @yeahimcrying @greatpizzascissorstaco @mysticalbanshee @weyheyavengers @infinityflamesworld  @fandom-fangirl22    @peterparkoure @crumpets-are-better-with-jam​

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[everythingshawnmendes]

“Are you… making cookies at 3:30 AM?” and Bucky Barnes being the biggest teddy bear when it comes to going to bed

                                                    or

Bucky and Y/N’s night routine, plus some late night snacking

tooth rotting fluff, smut, fem! receiving oral

Y/N loved scrolling through her phone before going to bed. All her life, after a busy day, nothing would distract her mind like mindlessly going through social media. When she became an Avenger, nothing changed. Whether she was exhausted from a strenuous day of training, plotting, investigating or completing a mission, she loved escaping from it all mentally to see what was going on online. It wasn’t the best, she knew, all the blue light and whatever, but in her line of work, high quality deep sleep ran kind of thin anyway. Tony used to tease her about it, calling her a teenager, but he shut up rather quickly after she retorted that at least she didn’t pull 3 all-nighters in a row just to work on some suit. The rest of the Avengers laughed with her that day, as he walked away muttering something similar to “some suit that saves all of your asses-” under his breath.

The rest of the team used their cell phones differently. Steve could barely count as having a cell phone, that old flip phone that had the numbers key pad where you had to press 1 three times just to type out the letter ‘c’. He answered the group chat, just always 3 hours late with 1 sentence at most. Bruce and Tony both used their phones a lot, mainly for backing up their research. Tony actually left the group chat twice, annoyed at the spam of stupid “childish” memes, but agreed to be back again when Peter sent a link to an article explaining how Iron Man is the strongest Avenger. The memes, they were mostly sent by Scott and Thor. They were at first almost always followed by a concise paragraph from Nat, who broke down the meme for Steve and Bucky to understand. They got the hang of them at one point.

Bucky didn’t love technology, let alone social media. Before Y/N was in his life, his night routine was quite simple: lay down and wait for sleep to come. After all that time being manipulated and used as the Winter Soldier, sleep had lost its peacefulness. He would just lie there with his eyes closed and drift in and out of consciousness.

It changed with Y/N however, for the much better. Bucky looked forward to going to sleep now, because that meant he got to hold Y/N in bed, which made him all soft and warm, until they both drifted into sleep. With her, he slept like a literal baby, holding his favourite blankie. Y/N never previously slept better either, having her own big Bucky shaped body pillow. 

Tonight was no different than any other. The two were cuddled together under their blanket, Y/N’s head propped on Bucky’s chest, where his shoulder met his chest. Luckily for him, the arm under her was his metal one, and could barely feel the weight of her head. The whole squad had gotten home from an intense mission, and the second they got back to the compound, Bucky dragged Y/N into the shower so they could get into bed as quickly as possible. After Y/N not being able to resist having her fun with Bucky under the warm water and sinking to her knees to wrap her lips around his pretty cock, the two scrambled into bed and were officially tuckered out.

Y/N sighed happily, scrolling through Twitter. Bucky’s chest was so built, and thick and so comfy to rest on. Bucky’s eyes were shut, his head heavy. His nose was buried in the back of Y/N’s neck and the sweet smell of her hair was lulling him to sleep. Her back was pressed against his chest, and his hand wrapped around her waist squeezed her close against him. Y/N hugged the arm that was around her with her free arm, stroking his forearm softly with his fingers absent-mindedly as she read things on her phone. Occasionally she’d laugh out loud at something and tell Bucky, who chuckled back, kissing her head. Y/N felt so relaxed, so in bliss and the reason was so simple. She was just so happy to be this in love with someone. She shifted slightly and moved to turn onto her other side. Bucky, half-asleep, whimpered softly and pouted, but curved his lips upwards in a smile when Y/N settled back into him to face him. She looped a leg with one of his and rested her hand with the phone on his chest. Bucky flexed his pec, bouncing Y/N’s hand on top of him, sending the two giggling softly. 

“Heyyy.” Y/N whined, nudging him.

She kept scrolling slowly on her phone, Bucky’s heartbeat slowing down to a soothing pace underneath her. One of his hands reached up into her hair, playing with the strands gently.

“Wow-“ Y/N snickered. “Bucky, did you know you have a large fanbase of thirsting women?” Her thumb paused at a tweet. She felt Bucky’s chin move on the top of her head and craned her neck up to look at him smiling. He felt her eyes on her and opened his halfway. “Listen; one writes: If Bucky Barnes shoots me, do NOT prosecute him. He caught me slipping, that’s on ME.” Y/N laughed heartily and Bucky just shook his head, burying his face in Y/N’s head, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Oh, oh - wait, I have a fanbase of my own too. “Y/N Y/L/N is so damn fine, if she were to ever same from something, I’d die of a heart attack afterwards”. HA.” Y/N nodded, laughing harder. Bucky perked up at this and frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together adorably. He held her tighter against him, a sound almost like a “hmmph” leaving his mouth.

“Aww baby.” Y/N simpered amid her laughs, looking up at her pouty boyfriend. She loaded him with kisses, one on his chin, his lower lip, the crook of his neck. Bucky found his smile again and opened his eyes a bit to lower his lips onto hers.  

Y/N settled back into his side and felt her eyelids go heavier and set her phone away. A couple minutes later, she had fallen asleep. Bucky sensed her breathing get heavier, kissed her head through her hair and drifted off to deeper sleep as well.

Y/N awoke some time later, squinting her eyes open and stretching slightly. She looked at the clock which indicated 3:00 and looked up and down to see Bucky softly sleeping, his arm still loosely around her. She closed her eyes and opened them again, thinking of why she might be unable to sleep. She didn’t have to go to the bathroom, she wasn’t too hot or cold… Cookies. She wanted cookies. A craving that was so random, yet she couldn’t seem to quite shake it off. Fuck it, she thought. She slithered out of Bucky’s hold and out of bed. Looking around the room, she put on some socks and quickly threw on one of Bucky’s hoodies to cover her naked body. It wasn’t likely for anyone else to be in the kitchen at this hour, but she still didn’t need to run the risk of someone seeing her butt naked. Plus, expert-skilled assassin and all, she was still clumsy as fuck, and she felt like being naked was some kind of dangerous being around an oven. As if she had not taken on 7 armed guards single-handedly with only one gun the day before…

Bucky stirred in his sleep, turning onto his side, his arm reaching out. The empty space beside him confused him, as he slowly rose from his slumber. Still heavily tired, he palmed the bed, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. 

“Friday.” He grunted, his voice raspy with the sound of sleep coating the back of his throat. “Where’s Y/N?”

“Scanning. Miss Y/N is in the kitchen, sir.”

“M’kay, thank you.” He said, cracking his neck slightly. He fell back and closed his eyes again, the initial panic having subsided knowing Y/N was safe. He pulled the blankets to him and sighed. Clambering out of bed, he huffed and put on his pajama pants, setting off for the kitchen. He thought Y/N just needed some water, so he was not expecting the sight he entered upon.

There, in the middle of the kitchen, was Y/N spinning around, dancing to reach up to the counter for chocolate chips. Bucky recognized his hoodie on her slip up slightly, showing off most of her leg. His cheeks warmed. She turned around and spotted Bucky, nearly falling back out of fright.

“Jesus- baby, you scared me. Hi.” She walked towards him, cupping his cheek with one hand as she gave him a sweet kiss. Bucky joined his hands together at the small of her back, pouting down at her.

“You left me all alone in our room.” He said, pouting slightly, eyes squinting from the contrast of the open lights. Y/N’s gaze softened at his bright blue eyes, who were looking at her with equal tenderness.

“Aw, I’m sorry, you big softiee…” Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her and rocking softly from left to right. She relaxed in his frame as Bucky hugged her, his sleepy demeanor not yet fully shaken awake. Finally, he pulled his head back, scanning the room.

“Are you… making cookies at 3:30 AM?” He chuckled, running his hands up and down her back soothingly.

“Yeah! You wanna join me?” Y/N grinned at him, leading him to the counter. “I’m almost done.”

Bucky sat himself on the counter as he watched her tiptoe to get her big bowl of dough and set it down right beside him. He ripped two sheets of parchment paper to coat the trays.

“You’re so cute you know that, doll? Bucky eyed her. Y/N looked up at him and gave him a toothy grin and continued rolling out little balls of dough onto the baking sheet. “Especially in my sweater.” He reached his hand out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Y/N stepped in between Bucky’s legs, leaning on his beefy thighs. “And I’m not wearing anything under it.” She looked up at him, eyes wide. Bucky groaned, pressing his forehead to hers as his face winced slightly. She was really testing him…

He took her face in his hands, pressing his lips down against hers. Her hands snaked up his legs to caress his abdomen, Bucky capturing her lips between his and kissing her hungrily. He licked her lips, sliding his tongue in her mouth to run it against hers, sucking her lip into his mouth as she parts them slightly out of breath. Catching it, she brought a hand to the back of his neck, lowering him onto her lips once more. Bucky pet her neck softly with his cool, metal hand before wrapping it around softly, not too strongly to stop her breathing but slightly to assert himself. Y/N gasped at the feeling, both cold and hot at the same time, Bucky flicking his tongue into her mouth, and grazed his teeth along the soft flesh of her bottom lip. Y/N swallowed heavily and pulled back.

“We have to preheat the oven.” Y/N panted slightly, going to the oven to turn it on. Bucky ran his hands through his hair and leaned back on the palms of his hands. A tent had formed in his loose cotton pants and his cock gave a twitch as he watched Y/N prance around the kitchen with her lips slightly redder and her bare legs on display. She was floating in his hoodie and she looked so impossibly soft, a part of him wanted to hold her, squish her, cuddle her, nuzzle his nose into her neck but the other, wanted to run his hands underneath the fabric, trail kisses along her divine legs and suck pretty bruises on her neck.

Y/N returned to the counter and caught a glance of Bucky. Smooth contoured abs moving along with his breathing, his manhood standing up straining against the fabric of his pants, which were loosely hanging off his hips. His blue eyes were soft to her, his eyelids hooded probably from what hour of the morning it was.

“You’re pretty.” Y/N hummed. Bucky scoffed, curling his finger motioning for her to ‘come here’.

“You’re pretty, doll.” He answered.

Y/N picked up the bowl and the wooden spoon and stood beside Bucky, who was still sat on top of the counter. It’s crazy how even if she was standing, he was still taller.

“Personally, I like the raw dough much better than the actual cookies. Hmm?” Y/N picked at the spoon, then giving it to Bucky. He tasted a piece and nodded. 

“I still think that I prefer the actual cookies.” He gave her the spoon back.

She shook her head. “You’re wrong.” She said, bringing the spoon to her mouth. 

Bucky raised his eyebrows slightly, feeling a tingle trickle down his spine. Y/N ran her tongue up the back of the spoon, locking her eyes with his, and hollowed her cheeks to eat the cookie dough. She continued to lick along the head of the spoon, cleaning it off of any remaining dough. Bucky gulped. She saw his pants tighten even more and laughed against the spoon, lapping up the sweet mixture.

“Baby girl…” He said huskily in a low voice, sending heat to Y/N’s core. She knew that pet name, and that tone of voice.

Y/N bit her lip, eyes becoming pleading as his blue ones stared into hers, while he licked his own lips. 

Ding!

Y/N huffed, as she turned around to see the oven was ready. She looked at Bucky, who smirked at her.

“The oven’s preheated, doll.”

“I know.” She exhaled frustrated, and took the trays, turning on her heel and walking to the oven.

She bent forward to slide the cookies in. At the sight of that, Bucky was a goner. He slid off the counter and lunged toward her. A second after Y/N had closed the oven door safely, no later, Bucky’s hands were on her. 

Y/N gasped, and then moaned at the feeling of his big hands sliding up the back of her thighs all the way up inside her hoodie, pressing at her lower back and coming to reach in front of to her bare stomach. He spun her to face him, Y/N’s hands placing themselves on his broad chest while his toyed with the bottom of his hoodie on her, palming her ass. They backed up, taking big hurried steps until Y/N felt herself hit the counter behind. Bucky’s hands slipped from her butt to the back of her thighs, lifting her and placing her down on the countertop slightly roughly. She immediately spread her legs apart, letting Bucky stand between them. He looked down and groaned, his hoodie ridden so high up it exposed all of her thighs, barely covering what’s in between. 

“Should we feel how wet you are, baby?” Bucky kissed behind Y/N’s ear, licking along the lower of her earlobe. Her soft whimpers contained in her throat resonated in his ears deliciously. “Hmm?”

“S-so wet. So wet. For you.” Y/N panted, feeling Bucky’s hands explore everywhere under her shirt, kneading her breasts. He was everywhere, but she desperately needed him lower.

Bucky took pride in her “for you” and slid his flesh hand down, dipping his middle finger in her heat. He himself moaned at how warm and wet she was, Y/N desperately whimpering, bucking her hips for more. He brought the one finger back up and before he could do anything, Y/N took his hand in hers and directed his finger into her own mouth, sucking harshly making her way from his knuckle to the pad of his finger. Bucky chuckled a low laugh, coming from his abdomen.

“So you’re not going to let me taste you, doll?”

Y/N shook her head repeatedly.

“Because-“ Bucky began lowering his head, large palms rubbing up and down her thighs. He kneeled on the floor. “I’ve been eyeing these delicious legs of yours ever since I saw you in only my hoodie.”

He turned his head to one side, pressing his lips into the plushy inside of Y/N’s thigh. 

Y/N opened her legs for him, begging him to just, dive in to her. She knew Bucky was ever the tease, and she knew he was going to make her work for it. But, he was so close, he was right there, all he needed to was to lean forward.

“Yeah, open up for me baby girl. Let me see how pretty you are.” Bucky licked his lips, his blue irises darkening slightly at the sight of your bare core. Y/N whimpered at the praise, arms reaching up into the hoodie to touch her own breasts. 

“Here, let me.” Bucky said, standing back up. Nothing turned him on more than to rid Y/N of his own hoodie, the larger loose fit revealing her beautiful body concealed underneath it. He pulled it above her head, throwing it on the ground. “Gorgeous.” His eyes trailed up and down her body, drinking in the sight of her.

“Bucky, please.” Y/N whined, the way he looked at her got her dripping wet and she was grinding against the counter to get any type of friction going against her needing center. His eyes flicked to her face.

“But you’re so pretty begging for me doll, don’t you know that?” He sunk back onto his knees, prying Y/N’s knees open once more. He moaned at the sight. There, right in front of him was her glistening cunt, the folds noticeably coated in her arousal, her scent seeping into his nostrils. He had never seen anything more delectable.

“Mhmphn.” Y/N grunted, her face contorted in frustration. “Baby.” Bucky’s deep blue eyes turned upwards to look at her. 

“Please.” She begged, nudging her thigh against Bucky’s cheek.

“Please what, sweetheart?” He leveled his mouth to her clit and stuck his tongue out, giving the sensitive button a hard, slow, long lick.

Y/N arched her back, throwing her head back at the feeling, breathing out. That initial lick was not followed by others, though, as the oven ding’ed once again to signal the cookies were ready.

“Fuck!” Bucky swore, licking his lips. “I’m going to go get those goddamn cookies and after that sweet doll, I’m going to eat that pussy of yours until you forget your own name.” He squeezed her thighs roughly, before standing up violently, turning the oven off and opening the oven door, grabbing the cookie trays one at a time with his metal hand and chucking them aside on the stovetop.

He returned to his spot on the ground, opened Y/N’s legs gently with his flesh hand (he wanted to make sure his metal one had cooled off, scared to burn her), locked eyes with her one last time and stuffed his face into her pussy. They both moaned, Bucky’s tongue running up her slit a couple times to lap up all the slickness and fully taste it. He gave her clit a quick kiss before sucking on it, taking it in between his lips. 

“Fuck, r-right there.” Y/N breathed out, finally feeling an ounce of her desire fulfilled. She brought both her hands to his luscious hair, running her fingers through it. She swiveled her hips, opening her legs as she maintained his head in between them with her hands.

He licked sloppily at her clit, drawing wet circles with his tongue as his entire face was engulfed in her, her wetness dripping and coating his chin. He sighed contently, closing his eyes as he ate her out, his own cock plumping at the feeling of her hips and legs trembling against his head.

“Oh, Bucky, oh-“ Y/N moaned, face scrunched in pleasure. The coil in her abdomen wound tighter, she was getting closer and she tugged on his locks of hair, pulling him closer against her. Bucky groaned into her cunt, sending her clenching her thighs around his head. He loved it. 

He loved having all he can smell, taste and think about Y/N’s pussy. The slight pain at the root of his hairs from being pulled by her spurred him on further, suckling, licking up at her clit just to swivel down to her hole, a mix of her arousal and his spit lapping at her folds. Suddenly, Y/N let go of his head, her hands flying in back of her onto the counter to support her, as her entire body arched backwards.

“I-I’m close baby, baby, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum - I’m gonna cum-“

Normally, Bucky would have said something filthier to send her over the edge, he liked hearing his name come out of her mouth, but he didn’t dare take his mouth off her. He maintained his pace, lapping against her clit.

“Mhmhmn, Bucky.” She pursed her lips together hard to not scream out. Bucky looked up at her, his girl, saying his name while he made her cum… Y/N caught a glimpse of his deep blue orbs staring up at her and let go, falling back onto her elbows as her orgasm ripped through her.

What a sight, a vision. Bucky’s eyes glued to her, as her head was thrown back, he trailed his eyes from her jaw, breasts, shaking arms and hips, to the legs on both sides of his head. He slowed down the pace of his tongue until she sat back up, bringing him back up to his feet with her hand in his hair.

“Taste yourself.” He whispered through hooded eyelids as he kissed her lips. Y/N giggled tiredly. Bucky turned around to grab a paper towel, wiping the bottom half of his face clean. He leaned against the counter opposite Y/N, grabbed a cookie and grinned at her, who just merely looked at him from on top while catching her breath. 

“Are they good?” She finally managed to ask.

“I’ve had better desserts to eat.” Bucky picked up his hoodie to throw it on Y/N’s shoulders, settling in between Y/N’s legs. He brought a cookie up to her mouth.

“Mhmmm they are good.” Y/N gave a light moan, chewing. “Don’t look at me like that, you know exactly what sounds I make for you, just heard them.”

After cleaning up the counter, they set off to brush their teeth once again (Bucky insisted because “Cavities!”) and before they knew it, Y/N was settled comfortably back into his side, with her head on his chest.

Neither needed social media to fall asleep this time.

the mouth and eyes on him I’m——-

my first bucky fic!!! and first really nsfw!!! plz lemme know if u enjoyed it loves x

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #marvel universe fic

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Projectiles

You absolutely terrorize your dad, Sebastian, and you don’t feel bad about it at all.

-

           “Why are you home so early?” Your dad was about to eat a sandwich and raised it to his lips before stopping, realizing that it was barely noon and you were home already.  He put the sandwich down an looked at you like you had two heads.

           “Nurse told me I could go home,” you shrugged. You held a bag from the drugstore down the street, backpack on your back.

           “And why?” You looked at him, holding the bag up. “Oh.” You could tell he didn’t fully get it, but you didn’t need to say anything else. He was slow, but he could figure it out eventually.

           “Yep. I’m going to take some pain pills.” You walked up the stairs to your room and set up your cave for the afternoon. You must have gone through half a season of Schitt’s Creek before you dared to even went downstairs to get your backpack to start doing homework. Your dad was putting his jacket on, obviously about to leave.

           “You want anything specific for dinner?” He asked you, looking you up and down. You looked like a wreck, but your entire body hurt so badly that you just didn’t care.

           “Death,” you responded dryly, walking past him to go to the kitchen. You grabbed a box of cheese-its, not even that you really wanted them. You just wanted food in general.

           “Okay,” your dad said quietly, taken aback at your statement. “Well, text me if you need anything. I won’t be late.” He walked out to go to his meeting, leaving you all alone. You needed a dog, you thought. You really needed a dog. So you scrolled through your phone and spammed your dad with pictures of puppies in the greater Manhattan area, all of which he said no to. You knew exactly why you were crying over pictures of pitbull mixes, but that didn’t make it any easier.

           You thought you were going to throw up when you smelled the smell of pizza down the stairs right as your dad walked back in the house a few hours later. You loved pizza, normally, but now it was just reminding you of the acne on your face and the fact that you were totally and completely nauseated.

           “How much do you want?” He asked you as you walked into the kitchen.

           “None,” you replied. “I’ll have some tomorrow.”

           “You told me last week that you would literally die for Luigi’s pizza.”

           “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

           “Do you have a fever?” You glared at him, again. He nodded in understanding. Truth be told, he was still having a tough time being a single dad to a teenage daughter. He had to deal with a numerous amount of things that he didn’t think he would have to deal with. Periods was one of them. You’d had it for a few years now, but yours was different. You gave him a heart attack at fourteen when you said it was so bad that the doctor wanted to put you on birth control, and two years later you were still struggling with the fact that it was completely random if you even had it at all. And this was the first time in a couple months, so of course it had come back full force.

           “I’m eating saltines, I guess,” you sighed. That was the only thing you could think of that wouldn’t screw with your stomach.

           “Honey,” your dad said back, turning from his chair to look at you.

           “Do you want to clean up my throw up?” He didn’t answer you, which you took as a hard no. “That’s what I thought. I’m taking the couch.” You walked into the next room and curled up on the couch, pulling your favorite fuzzy blanket over you. You turned on Bones and ate the absolutely pathetic sleeve of crackers that was your dinner.

           “Honey?” You heard after four episodes. Your phone told you that it was almost 1 in the morning, and your dad had gone to bed hours ago. Or so you thought.

           “Don’t call me that if there isn’t a sentence attached to it!” You said. He sighed from the stairwell and walked into the living room, rubbing his eyes at the bright TV you had playing.

           “You should go to bed. Especially if you’re tired.” You sighed and got up, letting him walk you back to your room. You finally settled in, turning your own TV on so you could sleep to it, and fell asleep.

           You woke up four hours later to the feeling that something was wrong. Very wrong. And indeed it was; your bed looked like an absolute massacre. You’d fallen asleep with the wrong kind of tampon in. Again. Your blue-gray sheets were stained already, your favorite sleep shorts were stained, and you almost started crying as you walked into the bathroom. It was so early in the morning that the sun wasn’t even up yet, and there you were, crying and carrying your things all the way to the stupid basement. You tried to get the stain out of your mattress pad, but there was no changing it, so you gave up. You put everything in the laundry with a high soil level setting and set an alarm to get back up later to deal with it. And then you fell asleep on your couch again, still crying, and in absolute misery.

           “Y/n?” You heard your name the next morning and woke up, rising from the makeshift bed you made out of your couch. Your dad was obviously ready to get started with his day. You’d missed your alarm again because your fucking phone was dead.

           “What?” You groaned, about to start crying again. Your dad held his hands up in surrender.

           “I was going to ask if you wanted to come take a quick walk to get some coffee with me. We’re out. And it looks like you need it.”

           “Will you buy me a chocolate croissant?”

           “Of course. I’ll be downstairs.” You changed your clothes and went to put everything in the dryer, making a mental note to ask your dad if you could use his card later to order more sheets. And then you started walking down to your favorite café, twelve blocks away.

           “You didn’t get much sleep last night, did you?” Your dad asked you as he pressed the crosswalk button. He was the only man in Manhattan you knew that would wait for a crosswalk light to turn, but you followed along with him. You stuck your hands in the sweatshirt you’d used to hide the fact that your stomach was twice its normal size.

           “No,” you responded. “I need new sheets.” He understood.

           “I’m sorry. We’ll get some at Target on the way home.” He gave you a small smile and herded you into the coffee shop. Normally he would try and tell you just to get something small, but he let you get whatever you wanted and he didn’t complain at all. You almost forgot about how terrible everything was when you got home later with a new set of sheets to put on the bed. These were darker ones, so even if they did stain they wouldn’t look too bad. He handed you the dark towels, too. And then you ended up raiding the fridge later. You looked like an absolute hermit with your hood pulled up and the drawstrings tightened up to your neck.  

           “So you refused the hot, fresh pizza last night and now you’re eating it, cold, right out of the fridge?” Your dad was standing in the kitchen, extremely confused, and about to go to the gym when he saw you with the cardboard box open, grabbing a slice in each hand.

           “What about it?” You asked in a slightly threatening voice.

           “Nothing. Nothing at all. Just admiring your creativity. I’m about to go to the gym, but I’ll see you later. Tell me if there’s anything you want me to get on the way home.” You nodded, knowing that you were probably scaring the living daylights out of him, and started eating one of the slices of pizza, closing the fridge door with your foot.

           You laid out on the couch for a few hours before deciding to take a nap. This time you didn’t wake up to a massacre, but you weren’t exactly in a good mood either. Your dad figured that out when he came back into the house. The light in the hallway wasn’t helping your migraine, so you did what any angry teenager would do. You found your slide sandal on the floor and picked it up and threw it in the general direction as the light.

           “Jesus, Christ!” Your dad exclaimed. “Honey, why are you throwing projectiles?”

           “I have a migraine! Turn it off!” You whined. He did what you asked, leaving the whole apartment in darkness.

           “I got you some of your favorite candy, if you want it,” he said. “I didn’t know what kind of sour patch you wanted so I got three kinds, the watermelon and the normal and then this new one they had, and then I got you some chocolate ‘cause your mom always wanted chocolate, and then we can get some ice cream or something later if you want.” He walked toward you and handed you a bag from the store. You sat up, taking the bag, and felt really bad.

           “Thank you.” He backed away from you like you were a dog about to bite. “I’m sorry I’m being a bitch.”

           “I get it. I probably would be too if that was happening to me. I think you might need to go back to the doctor, though, if it’s hurting you and you’re blee-” You found the other sandal and threw at him, this time in point blank range. “I’ll go call them and leave a message so they’ll get back to us on Monday. You just, uh… yeah. Please stop throwing things at me.” He walked out of the room and you could hear his footsteps quicken as he walked up the stairs to his room.

           A/N: I feel so bad for Seb here, but it had to be done. I hope you like it! A reminder that this will be my last post until the weekend probably, since I’m driving halfway across the country. I’ll be back as soon as I can!

           Taglist (if you’d like to be added, send me a message with what all you’d like to be added to!): @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter

#sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan x daughter!reader #sebastian stan x teen!reader #sebastian stan imagine

[captbenscn-a]

🤍 BENSLER

Who cooks meals for the other?

Elliot is the bigger cook out of the two of them so I'd say he cooks more than Liv does, especially at the start of their relationship. Heck, even before they got together, he cooked when able to at home and would even bring some for Liv the next day - bringing her lunch or even dinner to take home. She wasn't always the greatest at remember to eat during the day, what with being so focused on her work. But once actually do get together, he does a lot of cooking for her. Sometimes as a surprise and Olivia learns quite a bit from him. She knows some simple meals, but Elliot helps teach her a lot more and they love to cook together.

They have so much fun in the kitchen and Olivia loves to see Elliot so happy. How much he smiles when he's working the stove, cutting up vegetables, meat, etc - how much he's enjoying himself. And she loves to watch him do so.

As for Liv, she's great at cooking breakfast! It's actually one of her favorite things to make. Eggs, bacon, grits, pancakes, etc. It's even good for dinner at times, but overall, Elliot is the much bigger and much better cook.

Who spams the other with memes?

I don't really think they know too much about memes, but I definitely have Olivia telling Elliot really silly jokes and pick up lines if that counts! She's so playful with him - something we don't get to see of her in the show, really - so I LOVE writing it. I love getting to write this playful, silly, carefree side of Olivia that Elliot brings out of her. It's so sweet, fun and hilarious, and though he rolls his eyes at a lot of it, he loves it. Loves seeing this side of her.

Now, I can see as time goes on, Olivia discovers memes? I mean, I do have her making social media posts and using silly hashtags similar to that of Mariska's so I can see her finding cute and hilarious pictures and showing them to Elliot or something. I love having my Olivia similar to Mariska in that aspect.

Who likes to tidy around the house?

They both keep the house cleaned! Though, with the hours they work, the dishes or laundry can pile up due to being so busy with work and so tired afterwards, but for the most part, they keep their house very cleaned and organized! And Elliot is especially used to it what with raising four children and now two with Olivia.

Who likes to play pranks on the other?

I don't think they play too big of pranks on one another? Again, this can go with Olivia's silly jokes, but I can definitely see Elliot sneaking up on Olivia at times. Coming up behind her without a sound, arms sliding around her waist, making her jump and him grin. Sometimes he'll intentionally startle her, though she doesn't always startle easily, but he finds her little jumps cute. But as for pranks, I can see Fin and John planning some hilarious stuff for Elliot and trying to drag Olivia into it, but nothing too crazy or huge.

Who asked the other to move in with them?

Elliot asked Olivia to move in with him! He made her dinner one night and when they sat down to eat, he asked her to move in with her and it was incredibly sweet and so cute. They had practically already been living together, really, because not a night went by where they didn’t spend it together. Either they were at Olivia’s apartment or Elliot’s house and it was like that since the night they got together. They had years of built up of romantic feelings and sexual tension - having waited so long to be together - so they spent every night together after that. Not wanting to be away from one another - especially now that they didn’t have to be - and taking advantage of this new, life-altering change.

So it was like they were already living together, but it was never talked about, until that night Elliot asked her to move in with him, in his house. So it became official then. No going back and forth between two places, no bringing an extra change of clothes for the nights she spent at his place. No, it was permanent. And he was even a little nervous asking despite them pretty much living together already. 

Who is in charge of the music during a car ride?

There’s never really a person in charge! Elliot is usually the one that drives but they share control of the radio,m. Though, they probably like the same music so they’re happy listening to whatever! Also I do think it isn’t uncommon for there too be no music? Not sure why, but I can see them driving in silence, but like still talking? Talking about anything and everything. Either with silence or the music down low but sometimes they will have music going for sure.

I think it’s because in the show we never hear any music in their cars but that’s also probably because they’re working xD

Who is more likely to tickle the other mercilessly?

I never really thought about them tickling one another fjdhshs. Not sure it’s something they do, really. If anything, it would be Elliot tickling Liv? But like — lightly? I’m not sure really haha. But with Noah? Oh, yes. They definitely tickle him! Sometimes they’ll team up on him! and with Noah, I can actually see him and Elliot teaming up on Olivia to tickle her, too. That I can see!

Who needs to hold the other during scary movies?

Neither need to be held because neither get scared during scary moves, but they’re already holding one another anyway. If they’re on the couch, they’re cuddling, if they’re in bed, they’re cuddling. Scary moves, rom coms, comedies, etc, they’re always holding each other while relaxing.

Who has to help the other when it comes to technology?

Hmm, I feel like Olivia has to help Elliot more when it comes to this lmao. Now, she’s no expert by any means, but she knows a little more about technology than Elliot. Mostly the basic stuff, though. Computers, phones, etc, and her time in computer crimes definitely helped with that. It helped her learn more and do more and since she’s on social media with those photo posts, I definitely think she’s more tech savvy, but Elliot definitely gets better as time goes on! Even if he was adorably confused in OC when Jet was showing him how to work the tablet lmao. 

Who likes to get a bit frisky in public / an inappropriate setting?

Hmm, I’d say Olivia has been the one to initiate things like that. Though, that doesn’t happen often, because most of their intimate moments are spent at home. But they’ve had their times where they want to feel risky and daring. Like - ahem - in Olivia’s office when she texts Elliot (or perhaps in his), or the thread where they were at that club in the private room, or the thread where they’re in the car, in the parking lot at night fjdhshd and Olivia reaches over to touch him. But to be fair, he teased her earlier that day so it was payback and I can’t wait to write the rest of that out lmfao.

But they do tease each other in public. Sometimes with their words (talking about what they can’t wait to do to the other when they’re home) or touching underneath the table. Elliot’s hand on her knee or thigh, slowly gliding up, teasing her. Tempting her. Or Olivia’s foot doing the same with Elliot when they’re sitting across from one another. Or she uses her hand too if they’re sitting next to each other. It’s one of their many games to tempt and tease the other and I really love that about them and how we write it.

Who wakes up first, and do they wake up the other or let them rest?

It varies. Sometimes Elliot wakes up first and sometimes Olivia does. They’ll only wake the other if they have to be somewhere but otherwise, they let them rest cause God knows they need it and sleep doesn’t always come easily for them. What with the job they work and the things they have been through… so when they are able to get rest, they take advantage of it. Though, whoever wakes up first, most of the time they’ll still lay in bed with them and watch the other sleep - stroking their hair or face, etc - or they’ll start on some breakfast or something. Sometimes Elliot will get his morning workout going while Liv sleeps in because I can definitely see Elliot waking up first more then Liv does?

Who is always taking pictures of the other when they aren’t looking?

We all know who takes the MOST pictures. Olivia. Selfies, photos of Elliot, of the things around them, etc and yes, that includes photos of Elliot when he’s doing things/isn’t looking because she loves capturing him in the moment. Getting his side profile, capturing his smile, the focused look on his face - she’s probably done it all.

BUT Elliot has done this with Olivia as well. He doesn’t take photos as often as she does, but he has his moments where he’ll take a picture with Olivia here and there. And then there are moments where she will be doing it looking at something he’ll think how… beautiful she looks and so he’ll pull out his phone and take a picture of her. And I feel like that might be his phone wallpaper? A picture of Olivia looking at something else and smiling, enjoying something and just looking happy. And those are his favorite photos. Of his Olivia smiling. Be it at him or something else.

It’s just something they do - taking photos and cherishing them. Making every moment together count.

Who always forgets their wallet and never ends up paying for anything?

Neither, I’d say. They’re pretty good about remembering the necessities to take with them. Keys, wallets, etc, and they tend to take turns paying for things!

Who can’t sleep because the other snores or moves too much at night?

Neither of them snore, really. If anything, I can see Olivia snoring a bit more than Elliot does, but it isn’t loud or much. And when she does do her light snoring, he finds it pretty adorable.

Who is better at video games, and do they let the other win or show no mercy?

I don’t really think either play video games but Elliot knows more of them than Olivia because of his kids, but we doesn’t play them much either, I don’t think? If at all. Maybe eventually if/when Noah gets into video he might, who knows xD

But they DO play board games. And man, do they have FUN with it. Whether they’re playing on their own - just the two of them -, with Fin and Munch or with Noah. They get competitive when it’s just the two of them and they’re playing against one another and it’s hilarious. Both of them trying to one up the other, coming up with bets and rewards for the winner (sometimes innocent things like who makes dinner, who does the dishes, who gets a foot rub etc and then sometimes they’re more… sexual, and you bet they play strip poker! And strip… whatever haha. Strip scrabble! They make their own little rules for it.) but they have a lot of fun playing together.

Now with other people? They’re ALWAYS on a team. Because they’re always THE team. Olivia and Elliot - partners of however many years (timeline based) so of course they’re going to be partnered during games, too, and they’re hard to beat. What with how in sync they are, how they can anticipate what the other is thinking, how well they can read people and can communicate without words. Their amazing partnership goes way beyond just work and it shows in so many ways.

And with Noah? Of course they let him win a lot of the games and he gets so excited when he wins, it’s adorable.

Who always gets up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and accidentally wakes up the other?

Strange question lmao. I’m sure both have done this on accident! 

#okay for JAY to reblog #don't reblog if you are not Jay please #i had so much fun with this #i have fun with ALL of them but #i love doing these so thank you for always sending them <3 #i love them and i love you #cause I’ve been waiting for you for so long (Olivia x Elliot); storiesung #saved