#I wrote this with a terrible headache so apologies in advance

[scun-gilli]

BAM. Chapter 3 is up now XD

[chateautae]

flirt | pjm. (m)

➵ summary :  park jimin is a notorious flirt, but so are you. when you both meet at a party after weeks of back and forth, it’s a matter of time before somebody gives in

➵ pairing : jimin x reader

➵ genre :  college!au, sexual tension, smut, pwp

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 4k

➵ warnings : super suggestive flirting, alcohol consumption (both parties able to consent), swearing, light dom and sub themes, soft dom!jimin, brat!reader, little bit of brat-handling, dirty talk, praising but also degradation? it’s hot i promise, use of slut, slight body worshipping, mentions of oral, jimin is hot and yes that’s a warning in itself, breast play, unprotected sex, penetrative + rough sex, bit of angsty sex, creampie cause i seem to not like it any other way

➵ a/n : and my first jimin fic is here!! dear god i love this boy to the moon and back so i got a bit carried with him lmao, hopefully this isn’t terrible cause i still need to edit it but your support and feedback are always appreciated!! <3

2 hours.

2 hours since you first came to this party. You’ve bumped into at least a hundred people, danced your legs numb, God knew how many and what concoction of drinks were inebriating your system and still, you hadn’t seen Park Jimin the whole night. 

The only reason you even dragged yourself to this party was because of him. You were initially bailing on the annual ‘one-last-hurrah-before-midterms’ party because you, like everyone else here had midterms haunting them Monday. It was Friday night and as the ever diligent student, you were planning to study over the weekend.

Though your nagging best friend Hoseok had other plans, threatening you to come with every piece of dirt he had on you until he finally sprinkled Jimin’s name into the mix. You couldn’t lie, it was the only reason you decided to hell with your education, wiggled into a barely-there dress and waltzed in with Hoseok ready to take the night on.

But when you hadn’t seen Jimin at all, you were left annoyed, pissed off and with a headache raking your brain.

Seeing him was a selfish desire, one you’d develop after realizing you had met your match when you first encountered Jimin. You were always fairly notorious for your flirtatious habits and touchiness, a sort of trademark of yours and the same was always said about a ‘Park Jimin’ unknown to you, sometimes described to be an even bigger flirt.

It automatically intrigued you, curious of what kind of rival you secretly harbored until one day, you chanced upon Hoseok who just so happened to be with Jimin. 

At first, you didn't think Jimin could be a daring flirt. He had this sweet smile and disciplined way of speaking that screamed innocent to you, his mannerisms and demeanor shy and introverted. He didn’t make big moves and so you wrote him off as just that. 

But it wasn’t until you started seeing him outside your class’ building, alone, and multiple times after that, enough for you to realize he was anything but shy or innocent.

You ended up observing that a) he was sex on legs, b) easily flipped between the persona of an angel and a demon and c) anything he did could seem flirting. 

You two hit it off without a hitch, your flirtatious tendencies meeting to form a relationship of mutual interest. It was clear as day, both your actions almost always held some sort of unknown intentions behind them, your every saying a double meaning. 

It became the norm between you two, anytime you met turning into a conversation riddled with innuendos, suggestive lip-biting or eyes that couldn’t help but wander. And you weren't stupid, you could tell he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You two were dangerous, testing the limits of either’s control, hoping someone would give in and only left disappointed when nobody did. 

So when Hoseok mentioned this party, and graciously added Park Jimin’s name to it, you knew this was your chance. A party with buzzing bodies, loud music and copious amounts of alcohol was bound to set him off, especially if you were dressed scandalously and felt bolder with liquid courage pumping through your system.  

But it’d been 2 hours, and you hadn’t seen him all night. You were taking another shot in the kitchen, sulking by yourself and reflecting on the fact that you’d been duped by Hoseok. This party became useless to you, a mere waste of your time as you quickly discarded your cup and began stomping out of the kitchen.

You ventured further into the house to look for Hoseok’s 5’10 ass, tell him he’s the worst best friend for lying to you and that you were leaving this disappointment of a party.

You stepped around people mindfully, dodging them until you rammed smack dab into someone’s back, scrambling for an apology before looking at the unaffected victim.

Park fucking Jimin.

“Y/N!” Jimin beamed, holding a drink in his hand as he smiled widely.

“Jimin, hey! I thought you didn’t come tonight.” You attempted biting back your smile from finally finding him, shouting over the bass of the music as you met him on the dance floor.

“I just ran late. You know me, of course I’d be here!” Jimin raised his drink to his plump lips and sipped, stepping side-to-side in rhythm with the music. 

You couldn’t make him out that well, the disco lights of whatever lights system the only means of seeing him in the dark, but you swear the smirky grin on his face as he scanned you over wasn’t just a figment of your imagination, ecstatic that you already seemed to be reeling him in. “Do you want a drink?”

“No, I already had-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as someone’s raging body stumbled into yours suddenly, sending you off balance until Jimin reached out for you cautiously.

“Woah, easy there.” Jimin’s arms quickly held you, flashing a scolding look at the person who bumped into you and pulling you towards himself. “Are you here with someone tonight?”

“Yeah, Hoseok! I was looking for him.”

“Why’s that?”

“I.. wasn’t having fun, so I wanted to leave with him.” You swiftly masked the real truth, your voice becoming less of a shout as Jimin encased you, just a few centimeters between your bodies as you peered up at him, cheeks flushed with heat and alcohol.

“Leave with him? Damn, didn’t know you two were like that.” Jimin flashed you a suggestive look, raising his eyebrows.

“Shut up, you know we’re just best friends.” You both erupted into a fit of chuckles as you hit his chest, your hand smacking against his jacket and now that you were close, registered what a meal he looked like tonight; ripped black jeans, plain white t-shirt underneath a distressed jean jacket, all pulled together sexily by his tousled hair, small hoop earrings and a Chanel necklace decorating his neck.

Dear God, how many times you’ve ached to kiss that pretty, pretty neck.

You internally groaned, habitually drawing closer to him as you enjoyed the warmth of his body, nostrils filling with the familiar scent of his intoxicating cologne.

“So I hear you wanna have some fun.” Jimin perked up, eyes amused and hands smoothing over your sides slowly after faltering from your arms.

“Are you suggesting I’ll have fun with you?”

“Of course, gorgeous, but up to you how we do that.” Jimin stepped dangerously closer to you as his voice lowered, your face tucked into his chest as his body blocked other people from touching you.

Excitement shot to your center at his use of a pet name, a common occurrence during your exchanges though his choices of which always an added thrill. 

“And what if I just want to leave and eat at a diner instead?”

“Then I’d definitely take you, food and you? A win in my book.”

You cocked an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Adding me to the mix suddenly makes it a win? I’m not the one on the menu, Park.” 

Jimin’s eyes seem to blow out, leaning down as his plushy lips ghosted your ear as he spoke, tone darkened, “We can change that, princess.”

A thrill shot throughout your body, hyper aware of his lips mere inches from your face as your heart began to race, turning towards him expectantly.

You began advancing slowly to decrease the gap between your mouths, feeling him inch forward in response, letting him hover just above your lips for a tease before you stopped, “I’d like to see you try, Park.”

Then you abruptly turned out of his hold and walked away, making it through a few people into a hallway, allowing yourself to breathe. You loved teasing Jimin, it was an incredibly entertaining pass time but dear God, did it knock the fucking wind out of you. 

You were mentally recuperating from the fact that he almost let you kiss him, distracted as you stepped away until someone suddenly snatched your arm and pinned you against the nearest wall. You were honestly shocked to see Jimin, surprised he actually took your bait and stayed on your trail to stop you. His dancing eyes held nothing but greed, evident even in the darkness of the party.

“You know just how to test people, don’t you?” Jimin warned as he narrowed his dangerous eyes at you, holding your hot-skinned wrists against the cool wall. 

“Of course I do, it makes things fun and last time I checked,”  You brought your face to his and left only an inch between you two, “that’s just what I want.”

Jimin visibly grew less tamed, glancing down towards your lips as he tried breathing controllably, “Careful what you wish for, princess. It might come true.” 

“And if that’s what I want?” You titled your head expectantly, licking your lips as you watched Jimin bite his own. He eyed you the whole time, making it a statement to drink you in every inch of you. 

You could smell the alcohol on him, assuming liquor was the only driving force behind his actions but then contemplated his level-headedness, his coherent speech and clear judgment in this moment.

Jimin was choosing to chase after you, choosing to not let you go after weeks of incessant back and fourth and you knew you were finally getting closer to exactly what you wanted. 

Park Jimin giving in. 

“You’re fucking hot.” Jimin commented, eyes eating you up hungrily.

“You’re hotter.” You grinned and leaned back against the wall, cleavage unintentionally popping out for him and Jimin’s look immediately shifted, bringing his body closer against yours.

“You look submissive as hell right now, is that what you like? To be dominated?”

“Only if you like to dominate.” 

Jimin could feel the reigns on his control snapping, biting down to contain his raw desire to fuck you. He’s been holding himself back, knowing you seemed willing on your end of the interactions but never wanting to take the leap in case it was all just an act. 

But as he watched you go along with his every comment, staring back at him with the same devious eyes and practically offering yourself to him in his hold, he knew you weren’t acting at all. 

“You talk a big game, but can you put your money where your mouth is?” Jimin leaned his hips against yours, ensuring you could feel his growing hardness. 

“My mouth can do a lot of fucking things, Park.” You jutted your hips into his.

Jimin shut his eyes frustratedly before he re-opened them, a downright obsidian colour taking them over.

“Go the fuck upstairs.” 

“Wh-”

“I said, go the fuck upstairs.” Jimin demanded, looking at you with conviction so searing you in fact did become submissive. 

“W-which room-” You didn’t complete your question as Jimin’s deft hands encased you and lifted you off the ground, bridal-style.

“Jimin-!” You exclaimed.

“Say another word and I’ll make sure you feel me in your throat.” 

You immediately swallowed your mouth shut as Jimin cluthed you to him, core alighting with desire as he carried you up the stairs. Jimin arrived at the second floor and rushed towards the first room with an ajar door, shutting it with your feet after entering.

He made towards the bed and practically threw you onto it, stepping away to lock the door before leaning against it, arms crossed and serious. 

“You sure you want this?” His voice came out considerate, no haste or pressure.

“Yes, Jimin.” 

“You’re completely sure?” 

You nodded incessantly. 

“I need your words, Y/N.”

“Yes.” You affirmed, unintentionally becoming submissive as you awaited him, and Jimin couldn't resist you, not any longer. He made towards your smaller figure on the bed and immediately crashed his lips onto yours, knee sinking into the mattress as he leaned over you, splaying you onto the bed.  

He held your wrists against the sheets, kissing you open as his plump lips worked tirelessly against your mouth. He continued to swallow you, opening up to catch all of you as he sank further downwards to feel your body arch into his.

His wet tongue glided over your lips and you welcomed him in lightspeed, letting his muscle entangle with yours hastily and you instantly loved the taste of him. 

Jimin’s kisses began deepening, exploring your mouth like he was dehydrated and your mouth was fresh water. His thigh began pressing against your core and you moaned into his mouth as Jimin disconnected from you, panting for air. 

“Don’t fucking do that.” He voiced frustratedly, his full lips swollen and pink as he tried to contain himself. 

“Do what?” 

“Fucking moan, it does shit to me.” 

“Sucks for you, I’m responsive as fuck.” You snipped as his sudden confession made you hot, squishing your thighs together. Jimin took notice and he flashed a look at your core. 

“Responsive, huh?” Jimin let go of your wrist, sliding his hand down your body before pressing his fingers to your heat through your dress. You instantly gasped, arching as you felt your walls clench around absolutely nothing. 

“J-Jimin.” you warned him weakly. 

“Mm?” Jimin paid no attention as he lowered himself to your neck and began kissing, tonguing, sucking at a spot that had you cowering and squirming underneath him. 

You groaned as your free hand tangled into his hair, hugging him to your neck as you basked in the glory of his plush lips devouring you. He was laving and nibbling at your skin, continuously kissing the area of your carotid all while rubbing his hand against your clothed cunt. Jimin began rutting his body against yours, the tip of his cock prodding you the more he moved.

“Fuck you, Jimin. This isn’t fair.” You moaned breathlessly

“As fair as it gets, princess. You wanted to see my try, yeah?” Jimin suddenly stopped his movements on your core and slid his hand up your bare thigh, only to shift your stained panties to the side and glide his fingers all over your bare pussy. You gasped Jimin’s name and tugged at his hair harshly, the alcohol hazing everything over with sensitivity and trying to sustain the sheer amount of pleasure he was rewarding you.

“N-nothing’s fair about this.”

Jimin smoothed the pads of his fingers over your slick core, eliciting your incessant gasps, “Fuck with my ego and I fuck with you, baby.” 

He was leaving purple marks all along your neck and chest, moving down to the valley of your breasts and you whined headily, hating that he had such an advantage in this position. 

You immediately grew bold enough to push him off by his chest, detaching him as Jimin looked at you confused. “Y/N, what the fu-” was all Jimin could get out before you stood up and gripped his cock through his pants, his breath immediately hitching. He looked at you with surprised eyes, growing weaker in your hold as you walked him back against a vanity in the room.

You had no clue who this room belonged to, but you could care less when you were minutes away from getting fucked by Park Jimin.

He let out breathy little moans as you palmed him, shutting his eyes in bliss as he turned harder by the second, leaning back against the counter. You planted your lips to his neck and mouthed fervently, making sure you embellished his skin with your desire for him. “F-fuck. Y/N, this isn’t fair.”

“Fuck with my ego and I fuck with you, baby.” You mocked him and began rubbing at his shaft, sucking hickies onto his pretty neck and licking over the areas your teeth grazed. Jimin continued groaning, hugging you close to him as he fisted his hands against your body, trying everything to cherish the pleasure he felt. 

The person he’s been desiring ever since he heard about you, his every nerve thrilled by your ability to counter him, match his energy of constant flirting and testing the waters, venturing further than him sometimes.

You were just so tempting and Jimin wanted every last bit of you. 

That sentiment increased when he felt your hands snake towards the belt of his jeans, unbuckling harshly with need so apparent he wanted nothing but to stuff your walls, now. 

“No, fuck off, getting inside you first.” Jimin denied your hands, capturing them in his hold.

You instantly whined, “But Jimin, want you to fuck my face.” You pouted into his neck, kissing along his collar bones as you rutted against him. 

“Fucking God, I’m destroying you for that.” Jimin wrapped you up in his arms and switched the positions, shoving you against the vanity, your ass on the edge of the counter as Jimin stood in between your spread out legs, lips meeting yours again. 

Jimin lifted the skirt of your dress up and over your backside, pooling around your waist as his hands slid over your fleshy thighs to the band of your panties. He pulled only to snap them back against your skin, the contact making you gasp.

“Why the fuck are you still wearing these?”

“And why the fuck are you still wearing clothes?” You chastised, hands greedily shoving his jacket off him even with your mouth attached to his.

Jimin didn’t allow the action to compromise your kiss either, practically ripping his jacket off and breathing hard against you as he threw it away. He then pulled his t-shirt over himself, revealing his toned, lean body underneath and only leaving his Chanel necklace hanging over his bare chest. You licked your lips at the sight of his smooth and pretty body, the outline of his abs like a work of art.

You reached out to touch him, his face and skin flushed with lust as he watched you. “You’re so hot, Jimin, so pretty.” You praised, eyes ogling him.

Jimin smirked proudly before speaking, “Your turn.”

He searched for the zipper of your dress and unzipped hastily, peeling away the top to reveal your naked breasts and now it was his turn to ogle at you.

“Fuck me, you’re prettier.” He huffed out, eyes blown out entirely.

“Probably not as pretty as your cock, let me suck.” You pouted playfully and pulled him closer to you with the back of your shins, hands greedily feeling up his bare chest.

“Only good girls get to suck my dick.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you’re a fucking brat and a half.” Jimin started kneading your breasts, licking his lips as he watched you spread your legs wider for him and lean your head back out of pure bliss.

“I am not a brat, you just fucking take 10 years to get it on.” You snapped back, moaning in between at the way he groped your breasts, rolling the buds of your nipples with his fingertips.

“Sorry I was a fucking gentleman, didn’t know you were such a cock-hungry slut.” Jimin bit as he planted his thick lips to your perched nipple, eliciting curses from you as his tongue began swirling around, sucking teasingly.

“You just can’t fuck, isn’t it? All bark and no bite?”

Jimin scoffed darkly at that, sucking harder on your sensitive nipples before letting go with a pop. “I’ll fucking break you is why I kept holding off, you’ll regret this, princess.”

“Break me then, Jimin, please. Fuck me like you say you will, I need you.” Your arousal became unbearable as you grew hornier, rocking your hips against him for friction while he laved at either of your nipples.

“I will, baby. Get these off and I’ll fuck you so good.” Jimin tugged at your panties and you lifted your ass for him to discard them.

You unhooked Jimin’s belt and shoved into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans down until you finally freed his leaking length, thick and throbbing to be treated.

What you always thought was right, his cock was pretty just like him. You graciously pumped him, spreading his pre-cum over the head as you watched him lean his head back, kissing under his jaw.

“So pretty, Jimin, just like you.”

Jimin stopped caring about any and everything and instantly grabbed one of your legs, spreading you wide open for him and situated himself before your entrance.

He brought a hand over yours pumping his member and moved you quicker against his hot flesh, looking down at the lewd scene and your pretty pussy aching for him.

“Look at you soaking, baby, so much prettier.” 

You moaned needily, the back of your shins urging Jimin closer to you again as you whined. “Jimin..”

“Raw?” he breathed impatiently. 

“Fuck yes, birth control.”

Jimin didn’t even take a millisecond before he was pushing against your hole, placing the hand that was pumping his member now against your pelvic bone, pressing down to feel himself sink inside of you.

You instantly careened, moaning out so loud that if there wasn’t music blaring in the house, everyone would know how stuffed Jimin made you feel.

“Fuck-Jimin! Stop doing that, it feels too fucking good..!” You nearly cried, the pressure of Jimin’s hand making you feel any and every ridge, vein and hardness of his thick cock, your walls drinking him in.

“Fuck you, this is what you get.” Jimin blurted as he buried himself to the hilt, groaning satisfyingly at your warm walls hugging him before plunging to make out with you.

Jimin began fucking you with conviction, determination to drive you insane for him as he spread you open. He thrusted fast and hard from the get-go, neglecting to set a pace knowing how much of a cock-loving brat you were. His thumb resting just above your clit dipped down to lightly play with your bud, tease it, all the while licking into your mouth and thrusting into you.

You gasped hard, so much that Jimin’s name was the only thing coherent within them and he swallowed all your sounds with his lips. Your body was on fire at the drag of his cock, shocked at how wet you were when he hadn’t even fingered or eaten you out, his cock doing all the work, leaving you only thinking of Park Jimin’s sheer power.

You wanted all of him so badly, wanted him to ruin you, destroy you like he said he would, fuck you open like he always insinuated he would.

“Jimin, please, harder! Fuck me like the brat I am, teach me a fucking lesson.”

“Princess likes it hard, huh? Want me to fuck this pussy up? Make it all mine?” Jimin’s words were so filthy they had you clutching onto him tightly, arousal gushing from you as Jimin impaled you harder, snapping into you.

His thumb continued its onslaught, your walls convulsing to his every stroke as you gripped his shoulders and kissed him, biting his plushy bottom lip as he fucked you harder.

“Mm, Jimin, fuck!” Your tits bounced as he pounded into you, taking his every thrust like a champ and he damn well shook the entire vanity, continuously drilling your hole as he gave no room for mercy. Your hands snaked into his hair and tugged, making him groan in approval and he only pushed you open wider in response.

“You pretty brat, look at you getting what you want. Fucked like the cock-loving princess you are.” Jimin breathed against your mouth, his skin slicking with sweat as he worked tirelessly against your opening, battering your pussy with an unforgiving speed.

“You would’ve gotten your dick sucked, but apparently-” you shuddered breathily, “I w-wasn’t a good girl.” You felt weak from his repeated onslaught, the bubbling pleasure in your gut keeping you going. 

“Yeah, so fucking behave and maybe I’ll let you choke on my dick.”

“Y-you stop playing games and maybe I’ll let you eat my pussy.”

Jimin only ticked his head to the side as he chuckled darkly, starting to propel his thick cock into your gut and raging at your clit so roughly, you gasped as you carved your pleasure into his skin. Jimin did the same as he bore his fingers into you, a hand squeezing your thigh harshly as he held your leg and your walls fluttered around him, moans growing higher in pitch.

“Jimin! I’m gonna-“ you didn’t even complete your sentence as your walls clamped around him, orgasm washing over you so quickly you barely realized it came. You clenched him like a vice and panted hard against his mouth, Jimin finally coming undone as well, spurts of cum painting your insides and filling you to the brim, certain he’d leak out of you for hours.

You felt stuffed, so full of him you were hazed over with post-orgasm bliss, mind unwinding from any trifling matter on Earth. Your forehead slacked against his shoulder as you both panted for air, sweating as Jimin held your weak body in his arms.

His cock remained shoved inside you, the throbbing letting up on both of you as your highs settled down.

“You..” Jimin swallowed dryly, breathing. “took me like a good girl. Maybe you can suck me off next time.”

“Next time?” You breathed labourly, turning your face towards his.

Jimin peered down at you resting against him, biting back a grin. “Of course, there’s always a next time with flirts like us.”

[hubbytaeil]

hii! can i request 9 + 21 (fluff) with ten pls🥺

Ten +  #9: Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? & #21: Really??Here??

“I’m going to kill you, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul!” you shouted from your window to your neighbour’s. “You’re so mad that you’re using full names?!”

 You decided to respond to Ten’s blatant answer by throwing a shoe at him, that flew just in the right direction, hitting his arm. “Ouch! I could sue you!” “Shut up! That’s what you get for covering up the entire school corridors with flyers with my face on it!” “Okay, but I wrote underneath was pretty funny, you have to admit it.” “Oh, you mean ‘horny little kitten is looking for a master’ is funny?!” “What? It has style.” “That’s it. I’m getting arrested for fucking murder today!” “Oh, please don’t go to jail! Who else is going to help me have so much fun?” another shoe followed the previous one, but this time it landed on his face.

That was only one of the many pranks Ten had pulled on you ever since you had known each other. Ever since he had moved into your neighbourhood it had seemed like his only purpose was to make your life a living hell. Or at least, for most of your high school days that’s what it looked like. From calling you pretending to be your crush and making you look like a fool, to the most childish things like putting ketchup on your chair.

The constant shouts and fights coming from your facing windows, that resonated in the entire block, only stopped when you both went to college. You felt like you could breathe again, away from Ten and his annoying behaviour. A silly text would come from time to time from him, just to test the waters but it didn’t last long. Clearly Ten had gotten the hint.

You didn’t hear from him until you came back home for winter break. You should’ve been resting and enjoying your time off, but you were locked in your room, busy organising your study plan. You didn’t want to waste any time during the holidays, but you felt so overwhelmed after months and months of keeping up with the crazy schedule you had thought out for yourself. As you were rubbing your temple to relieve your headache you heard a hard tick at your window. One followed soon after, and another one. Out of patience, you stood up from your desk, you spread open the glass window, knowing exactly what to expect. “You know, most people know on the front door of a house.” “I know, but I’m too lazy to go all the way down. Plus, you’re right here, it’s more convenient.” In that moment you never would have admitted it, but you had missed that mischievous smile. It was a sudden realisation, so sudden that you found yourself reciprocating the smirk, surprising even Ten, who couldn’t keep the eye contact. He didn’t look like as malicious as when you had left him. In fact, Ten had a more mature aura around him. Some moments passed before he spoke again. “You alright? Why are you still with your nose all up in some textbook?” “I’m just… getting things done in advance.” “But you should rest a little bit too.” You were taken back by Ten’s concerned tone. He had never spoken to you that way, or basically in any other way that didn’t sound like a joke or a mockery. You took a good look at him; he was standing with his arms on the windowsill, hands fidgeting to fight the cold, he almost resembled a little child with his red sweater on, you thought. Was this really your neighbour and long-term ‘nemesis’? “I have an idea.” He exclaimed while putting a finger on his head to point at an imaginary light-bulb. “Now I’m scared.” You said while giggling. “Meet me downstairs. I’m going to get my car keys.” “What?!” “C’mon, I’m going to help you get in the holiday mood.” You pondered for a few seconds before nodding your head, which made a warm smile flourish on the boy’s face. Before he could close the window, you called him back “Hey!” Ten popped his head out once again in the most adorable manner. “Ten… why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” he looked at you, then he looked down, but he could not hide the warm pink shade colouring his face. He just shrugged his shoulders and then shut the window in your face in a hurry.

After you slipped into something comfortable and warm, you told your parents that you were going somewhere with Ten. They couldn’t believe their ears, but everyone on your block would’ve had the same reaction. When you got out of the house, you immediately spotted Ten’s car parked on the street. Out of the blue, you started feeling a little weight on your chest. You started remembering the first and last time his parents had forced him to drive you to school. It was incredibly awkward to say the least, Ten tried turned on the radio to suffocate the silence. Then, unexpectedly, a song that you both loved came on. Gradually you went from simply humming to singing at the top of your lungs, together. It felt nice, to know you had at least something in common. Even if it was just knowing the lyrics of a silly song. At the time, you thought you could actually form a friendship with your new neighbour. But somewhere along the way that image faded away; at school Ten started ignoring you at first then as time went on you would always be the centre of all his jokes and pranks. You didn’t know what you possibly could’ve done to deserve that. That was the reason you were hesitating, as you were about to open up that car door for the second time.

“Really?? Here??” “You don’t like it here? Look at all the decorations! Don’t you feel festive now?” Ten had taken you to a coffee shop downtown, all the walls were covered in colourful decorations and the air smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. “Yes, I like it. It’s just…” you stopped before you could finish. You didn’t want to get caught up into your old memories. But Ten insisted, he wanted to listen to what you had to say. “You don’t remember, don’t you?” you asked, with a tender smile. He looked confused and started tapping his finger on his chin, trying to gather up his thoughts. “Nope, nothing comes to mind.” You let out a melancholic sigh after taking another sip of your hot chocolate. “This is where you set up my fake date with Yangyang, when you pretended to be him on the phone.” You continued while looking around, trying to find the exact spot where you had sat the first time. “Then he showed up with someone else, and I may have made a complete fool of myself when I confronted him about it in front of everyone.” Ten, being reminded of his prank, was dead silent. He started playing with a wet napkin until it was all wrinkled. “I’m… I’m terribly sorry.” You doubted that his apology could come from a place of sincerity, but you looked at him you saw it clearly. He was sorry, he couldn’t look at you, but he also couldn’t sit still. Seeing him that way made the weight in your chest disappear. You slowly grabbed his hand on the table, asking him without to look back at you. “It’s okay, it was a long time ago.” “Still, I acted like a jerk. I was always a jerk to you. And I regret it, y/n.” Ten squeezed your hand softly. “I really hope you can forgive me for everything. And even if you can’t, I’ll understand.” You let go of his hand, only to intertwine his fingers with yours, making Ten blush once again that night. “I already forgave you.” He smiled from ear to ear, while his eyes admired how nice your hand looked in his. “But you’ll have to pay from the chocolate croissant I’m about to order.” You smirked, holding in a laugh. “You can order whatever you want. My treat.”

-ˏˋ⋆ ̥ prompts ̥ ��ˊˎ-

[siempre-pedro]

Put Your Head On My Shoulder

Pedro Pascal x Reader 

Summary: Everything is blissful when Pedro asks you to be his dance partner for a dance lesson he has to take for a new role, until you catch a contagious illness and have to cancel. Pedro finds a way to still dance with you and confess his feelings. 

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m obsessed with those songs but in another room videos/audio! I wrote this inspired by Paul Anka’s song...but in another room. I recommend listening to it while you read. 

Requests are OPEN

A gentle knock of your apartment door interrupted your glamorous dinner one Monday night. You folded the corner of your magazine and took one final bite of your Lucky Charms before getting up to answer it “Coming,” you shout, your mouth sill full of cereal.

Once you open the door, you swallow your food as fast as you can, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of your hot neighbor. You’d known Pedro for years, he had moved in next to you and sent over a plate of baked goods and a note apologizing in advance for any noise. Both of you were smitten since that day. “Did I interrupt you again?” Pedro asks, grimacing at his awful timing.

“Nah I only got to the who wore it best section this time,” you chuckle, leaning on the cold door frame and tugging your knit sweater up on your shoulder. Pedro ran his fingers through his messy brown hair and then cooly put it in his front pocket “What do you need?”

“A favor,” he responds simply, “when was the last time you danced?” You squint your Y/E/C colored eyes and your lips pucker in thought.

“Senior prom. Why?”

“I signed on to do a project, and I have to learn how to waltz,” he explains, a pink tint rising to his tanned skin. You smile softly and cross your arms over your chest, motioning him to continue. “I found a class on Friday in Midtown, will you please be my partner?”

“Why me?” you ask, trying to hide a giddy smile that was threatening to make an appearance. The man of your dreams was inviting you out and all you do was stand there and look like an idiot! He looked so nervous and precious, standing there fidgeting on his spot.

“You know I have two left feet, I trust you not to laugh at me too much,” he laughs. That was fair, he did, hen he invited you to a friends wedding you got to experience that first hand. “Please, Y/N. I need you,” he begs looks at you with pleading eyes.

“Fine, fine, fine,” you agree “Friday.”

He sighs in relief and pulls his hands from his pockets “You are my savior, Y/N. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ll see pick you up at 5 and we’ll take the Subway, yeah?” He plans excitedly, almost bouncing. You bit back a girly laugh and did your best to keep your calm composure.

“I’ll see you then.”

Except you wouldn’t. Tuesday and come and gone and when Wednesday came you woke up with the worst headache of your life. Your neck was so stiff it felt like you were tied to a board, and after some back and forth with yourself, you made an appointment and thankfully, they were able to see you right away. Pedro was texting you nonstop for updates and made silly jokes to calm you. Some made you giggle and others made you groan from second-hand embarrassment.

Those jokes didn’t help when your doctor stood in front of you, his clipboard under his arm, and his eyes looking stern down at you. The older looking man takes a deep breath before giving you the diagnosis “Its meningitis,” he tells you bluntly.

You blink a couple of times, cocking your head as far as it could go without it hurting…which wasn’t that far at all “Meningitis?” you repeat confused, you’d never heard of that before.

The doctor leans against the old counter and uses his free hand to press against the back of his neck “You have an infection that’s causing swelling of the membrane covering your brain and spinal cord, ” he begins to explain, and this is where your daydreams came to a rough stop “It’s highly contagious and often deadly, seizures, brain damage, hearing loss.”

Your eyes widened at the amount of emphasis he used in ‘highly’ “Oh,” was all you could say. Fuck now you were afraid you were going to die! You couldn’t tell Pedro you liked him if you were dead. “H-how bad is my case?” you ask meekly, your eyebrows turning upwards in worry.

“Thankfully we caught it early and the infection is only bacterial, I’ll be giving you the best antibiotics I can and you should come out of this with no side effects,” he tells you, taking his clipboard from his arm to start writing down a prescription. Here comes another kicker “You need to be quarantined for at least a week, no face to face interaction with other people.”

“I have a date Friday,” you say without thinking about what you just blurted out. The doctor looks up from his clipboard and gave you a look that said ‘are you serious?’

“Do you want them to get infected?”

“No.”

He laughs “Then stay home and rest. I’ll supply you with a few masks to get home, then no going out. You go to the pharmacy and go home. Got it?”

You smile at him “I do. Thank you, Doc.”

Telling Pedro you couldn’t go dancing with him may have been the hardest thing you’d ever have to do. You imagined it was going to crush him as bad as it did you. You lean back in your seat on the train, passengers saw your blue medical mask and creating a bubble around you, at least you were alone-ish. Sliding your phone out of your pocket you begin to text him ‘I’m on my way back.’

He replies almost instantly ‘How’d it go? Are you ok?’

‘I have meningitis. A brain infection basically.’

‘Jesus Christ. Are you going to live???’

‘lol yeah. I have to be quarantined for at least a week. I’m HIGHLY contagious. I can’t go with you Friday, I’m so sorry Pedro.’

Pedro’s quick responses ceased. You were constantly checking your phone every few seconds to see if he texted back. You watched your screen intensely, no pop-up messages were appearing, and when it did it was just an Instagram notification that gave you false hope. It took the actor 7 minutes to finally respond.

‘Fuck. Please don’t worry Y/N, I just really want you to get better! I’ll go to that bodega down the street and get you a few things so you don’t starve and stuff.’

Fuck this guy for taking care of you, fuck him for being sweet and nice and everything you wanted him to be. Too bad you were breaking both your hearts, you think. No Pedro was fine you assumed, just helping out a friend.

When you got back to your apartment you found two grey plastic grocery bags filled with Gatorade, semi-healthy snacks, and Tylenol you assumed. On the bag was a neon yellow sticky note ‘I hope I got you everything you needed. I’ll see you in a few days : ) – Pedro’ it read. You smiled softly to yourself and picked up the bags, ready for the lonely week ahead.

Thursday you were in the worst pain of your life, it was like that scene if Ferris Beuller’s Day Off when Cameron was in bed telling Ferris that he was dying, unable to move. That was you, 80s music and all as you laid hopelessly in your bed, surrounded by clear bottles of Gatorade and snacks that Pedro provided. Pedro himself was only adding to your pain, his constant texts asking how you were and trying to make you feel somewhat better was backfiring, you still felt terrible about the dance class. In the evening Pedro would knock on your door, leaving your mail in front of the doorstep.  Too bad you couldn’t move to get it.

Friday you were able to accomplish getting out of bed and slowly moving around your apartment. You were leaning on your kitchen counter, chicken noodle soup near boil in a silver pot in front of you. You checked the clock on your microwave ‘4:58’ it read in glowing blue letters, Pedro would be leaving at any moment. That is if he was really going of course.

He was, the door to his apartment closed loudly and a light giggle rang through the walls. You stood stiff, that was a female voice. You rushed to grab a medical mask in the living room, tugging on your gray oversized sweater and a good excuse in your mind.

Your door opened in a rush and you stood in the hallway, the speed of everything got Pedro and the woman’s attention. God she was beautiful, tall and bronzed with silky long black hair, if they needed a new Miss Universe it would’ve been her. She was your foil, you were there in sweatpants and your hair greasy hair pulled up into a high bun, a blue medical mask covering your frown but they couldn’t conceal your dark bags. “Y/n,” Pedro speaks cautiously like a man in a relationship getting caught with another woman. The tall skyscraper of a woman scans you up and down disapprovingly and you didn’t miss her taking a step back when you coughed. “This is Katerina. Kat this is Y/n.”

“Hi,” she sighs, and you simply wave at her before crossing your arms over your chest defensively. Katerina, you hated the way he said her name with that accent of his. Your heart was shattered, would rather dance with her. Your mind quickly flashed to him leaning in to kiss her while they danced, their bodies pressed together.

“What are you doing outside?” he asks you with concern.

You bit your quivering lower lip and replied in a faltering tone “I just came to get my mail.”

Pedro’s dark brown eyes look at you sympathetically “Do you need it right now?”

The tears started to form in your eyes, she probably thought you were ridden with disease “N-no.”

“Please go rest, I promise to bring it to you tonight,” he pleads.

“Pedro we need to go, the Uber’s out front,” Katerina interjects.

You didn’t say anything as he offers a guilty smile before walking off with her. Once their figures disappear down the hall you take in a sharp breath, tears falling down your cheeks. Why did you have to get sick? Why did it have to be contagious? Why did he choose her? You were so angry and jealous and it going to the window in your bedroom to watch him help her into the Uber fueled the angry green fire in your soul.

Later that night you sat on your couch brooding, that night’s rerun of Entertainment Tonight providing background noise as you angrily flipped through Vogue. Pedro would be back any moment, and you were just waiting to hear Katerina’s obnoxious giggles. Soon enough Pedro’s front door opened and shut, no exchanges of words or laughter could be heard. Maybe he did come home alone and you were worrying for nothing.

Music started to play from the apartment next to you, the 50s song you recognized from your father's collection and that one all the kids were into these days. Why was he playing it this loud? You could hear Paul Anka’s voice over Kevin Frasiers on the tv, the bass gently thumping the wall behind you.

Your phone started to ring, Pedro’s name and goofy face popped up “Pedro you’re going to have to pay another fine if you keep it this loud,” you say playfully as you answer it.

“How are you feeling?” He asks lowly.

“Better.”

“Good, stand up,” he instructs.

“W-why?”

“Do his for me Y/N, please,” he sighs.

You shrug and oblige, putting your magazine to the side and standing up in the middle of your apartment “Now what?” you inquire.

“Can you hear the music?”

“How can I not… I’m sorry, yes, yes I can,” you laugh.

“Good, now close your eyes and imagine I’m with you…we’re dancing,” he tells you and you do what he says. You smile and start slowly swaying to the song “I really wish you were with me tonight.”

“You didn’t like what’s her name as a partner?”

Pedro chuckles and closes his eyes “No she was fine. I just wish it was you… my first choice.”

“First choice?” you question.

“You’re always my first choice, Y/N.”

‘put your head on my shoulder’ you cock your head to the side and imagine your putting your head in the crook of his neck, the smell of his cologne bringing a sense of comfort. “I didn’t mean to get sick,” you confess.

“I know, I know… I’m not upset at you or anything. I just had bigger plans for this evening,” he admits, a pink tint rising to his cheeks.

“Which are?” you hum.

“I wanted to tell you that I liked you. More than a friend.” Your eyes open and you snap out of the fantasy, your heart ready to burst from your chest.

“Pedro,” you breathed, wishing he could see the blissful smile. “I’ve liked you since you moved in.”

There’s a silence on both ends, the romantic song filling the void but soon he speaks “Once your better you’ll dance with me?” he wonders.

“I promise,” you say, and the fatigue sets in, “I-I’m getting tired, I did too much today”

Pedro hums in contentment “Go to sleep, I’ll bring your mail and slide it under the door. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Pedro,” you whisper. As you hang up the song ends, your eyes look at the wall that divided your apartments and smiled all the way to your bed.

[softforday6]

좋아합니다. You x Young K (feat. DAY6). Chapter I

Summary: Younghyun is in love with his best friend and decides to do something about it. It won’t be an easy task, will he be able to overcome his fears and change his reality?. Genre: Romance, smut (in the future). Note: Hello! I wrote this fan fic for DAY6 but here, the characters, are not musicians. Younghyun writes some songs but is a businessman, he owns two coffee shops in Tokyo and Seoul. This fan fic is my own creation and I apologize in advance if there are any spelling mistakes, I speak spanish and learned english on my own lol. Also, I got inspired and thought it would be fun to write a story, I just finished college and decided to dive into new things, this is one of them. Never done this before, so I hope it’s a nice story for you to read. Jae, Wonpil, Sungjin and Dowoon will make their appearance pretty often and you’ll find out about them as the story continues. Park Jimin (MC) and Im Jaebum (GOT7) will appear as a couple (I always thought those two looked cute together). Also, the Point of View will change in each chapter.

Enjoy! ————————————————————————

Chapter 1: Heart Surpassed By Soju.

I like you. I tried to hide it but I can’t do it anymore. It took me a while to say this: I want to love you.

-좋아합니다-DAY6.

Friday, 9 am. Tokyo, Japan. Younghyun’s coffee shop. [Younghyun’s point of view].

Wonpil, my friend and business advisor, and I arrived to Tokyo three months ago to open a second coffee shop in town. Before coming back to Seoul, where the first shop is, I served the costumers and tried to establish a warm vibe to my shop, making them want to stay and enjoy their cup of coffee.

-Have a nice day!-I said while delivering a latte to a costumer.

I’ve heard my friend coming closer by the sound of his shoes on the floor.

-How are you feeling today?- he asked.

-I still have a headache.

Last night we went to a bar with some people we know from here and I made the terrible mistake of drinking way too much soju and when we came back to our rented  apartment I confessed one of my best kept secrets: I’m in love with my best friend. Wonpil said he wasn’t surprised at all, after all, he always knew how to read right through me.

I’ve known her for fifteen years now, we went to the same school together and I like her since the first time I saw her but out relationship went on as a friendship. Nevertheless, lately it’s been getting harder for me to be just her friend. She’s dating this guy Hongseok for about a year and a half now, so I couldn’t find the right moment to say what I feel.

-Hey, I think you have something that belongs to me- I said, extending my hand.

He laughed and took my smartphone from his pocket to give it to me.

Last night, my heart surpassed by alcohol was so sure that it wanted to confess but my friend saved me from a potential disaster when he noticed that I was calling her, yelling I’ll tell her! she needs to know, I can’t go on like this, or at least that’s what he told me.

-I’ve saved you from embarrassing yourself. Although… You do know you have to do something about it, right?.

I sighed. I knew it. It was just a matter of time, I was going to burst in the worst moment. But… What if I ruin our friendship? I really like spending time with her, her heart is so warm and makes everything that is good, better and any kind of problem seems like nothing.

-Think about what you’re going to do when we come back- he said before leaving.

Friday, 5 pm. [Videocall with you]. [Younghyun’s point of view].

-So, that was my week. How about yours?-I said.

-Pretty busy too… Actually, I need some rest like now-she stated while throwing herself on her bed as she sighed.

Just like Wonpil can read right through me, I can read through her. I’ve been thinking there might be something disturbing her for a while now but she didn’t wanted to talk about it.

-Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on?.

-A month ago we found out that one of our co-workers was giving our ideas to the brand we’re competing with. I had to work even harder.

She works as an art director in a make up company in Seoul. They were so close to the release of a new product.

-Who was it?.

-Someone from my creative team… However, I think we’ll get through this- she said, convinced.

Of course they will, anything is possible with her leading the project. When she’s passionate about something she works so hard to get the results she wants.

-Hey, can we meet when you come back?-She asked.

I smiled.

-You don’t even have to ask me that. Come to my coffee shop tomorrow and I’ll make you your favourite cup of coffee.

-Yes! I miss that, no one makes it like you do.

Friday, 9 pm. Gimpo’s airport, Seoul. [Younghyun’s point of view].

-Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the airport of Gimpo. Please remain seated with the seat belt fastened until the plane stops completely…-they announced.

-Have you decided what you’re going to do?-Wonpil asked.

After talking to her before our trip back home I wondered what would happen if she decides to stay away from me because she doesn’t feel the same way that I do.

-I think I should just forget about it for now, the timing doesn’t seem right.

-Again?-he said, dropping his head on the back of the seat and looking at the roof- What if Hongseok wasn’t in the story? What would you do?.

-Maybe I would…

-You wouldn’t do anything, would you?-he interrupted.

I sighed.

-Admit it, you’re just looking for excuses because you’re too scared of how she could react-he said, dropping his hands on his legs.

-You say it like it’s so easy!

-It was always easy for you! You get everything you want, no exceptions. Why would it be different this time?.

Silence invaded us for a few minutes. I don’t know what was going on in his mind but in mine, all the moments I spent with her and how in each of one of them I found myself smiling more than usual.

All of a sudden, he dugged his hands on my seat.

-What are you doing?-I asked confused.

He took the notebook I always have with me where I write the things I have to do and some songs. After searching through the pages, he finally spoke.

-Look, here it is. I like you. I tried holding it back but I can’t anymore. Now I can tell you: I want to love you. You wrote this, not me. Add to this the show you’ve made thanks to the soju… My friend, you need to act on it and now.

When he read my own words I felt the same way as I felt when I wrote this. This made me feel tired and like I needed to release it.

Once we arrived, we met with our friends. When I saw them, I noticed that they didn’t change, not even a bit, while we were gone. Sungjin, a serious and responsible guy, was looking for us with his eyes while Dowoon and Jae were laughing out loud.

-Oh! the handsome boys arrived-Sungjin said.

We went directly to eat some barbecue at Jae’s. It’s really nice to be back homeI thought while looking at us, reunited. Chapter 2. I missed you.

[chibiauthorchan]

The Hetalian’s Guide to the Galaxy

Wow, long time no post! I heard @alifeasvivid​ talk about a crossover between Hetalia (maining USUK) and the novel The Hitchhickers Guide to the Galaxy. The source material for this project I wrote for an English class back in high school belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya and Douglas Adams respectively. For those of you who have read the latter you will notice that yes, this is strikingly similar. But I had a lot of fun writing this when I did and putting in tons of fun Easter eggs. I hope you enjoy! (P.S. Tumblr messes with the formatting, sorry)

Contents: THGttG, Preface and about a fourth of Chapter 1 (it’s really long) Word count: 2,178 Warnings: Alcohol mention, aliens, impending destruction of the Earth Summary: Arthur Kirkland woke up hungover, thinking this was just going to like any other day. Well, it wasn’t.

This is the story of a terrible, stupid catastrophe and some of its consequences. All of which except said consequences happened on a Thursday.

This is also the story of a parody of a book named after another book that was dreamt up by an 11th-grade girl set in an alternate universe from both her own and the one of the original book named after another book. The book that the book was named after is known as The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy- which is not a book that originated from Earth from any of these universes nor was it published on any of these Earths. The book named after that book is in fact found on earth, but only in the universe that this 11th-grade girl comes from as this is the only universe where such a book exists. This story that parodies the book named after the other book and shall be called The Hetalian’s Guide to the Galaxy because this girl is a lover of puns. You see, the universe this parody of a book named after a book has characters from one anime series known as Hetalia placed into the world of the book named after the book. It’s a pun as fans of this anime are known as Hetalians. A pun is a joke based off of wordplay that in fact does not originate from any of these Earths so the earth fellow who thought himself clever from inventing the joke form was, in reality, reusing a billion-year-old idea that had long died out everywhere else in any of these universes.

Nevertheless, the book that the book this story parodies is named after is a wholly remarkable book.

In fact, it was probably the most remarkable book ever to come out of the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor- of which no Earthman has ever heard of unless one comes from the universe in which this 11th-grade girl comes from and that individual has also read the book named after the other book¹. Much of these first three pages this girl has found unnecessary to the plot and it is being skipped over. Thus one could say this is also an abridged parody of a book named after a book. The one only slightly necessary piece of information relevant to something that will come later is that there are two books. One known as The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and one known as the great Encyclopedia Galactica which was only mentioned one other time in the entirety of the book named after the other book.

So, with that out of the way let’s get to the good stuff. Which follows as thus.

The story of this terrible, stupid Thursday, the story of its extraordinary consequences, and the story of how these consequences are inextricably intertwined with this remarkable parody of a book named after a book begins very simply. 

It begins with a house.

¹The 11th-grade girl writing this project would like to apologize in advance for all of the ways this parody will take twists and turns and make no sense as it talks about parodies of books named after books and the different universes the worlds these pieces of the puzzle come from. It is not her intention to confuse, this is simply the format of the book named after a book that this story is a parody of. This parody will also include plenty of British English slang as in both the book named after a book and in this parody our main character is an Englishman. Yes, long only semi-necessary footnotes such as these are found in this book named after a book and the parody will follow suit in style.

This house stood alone on the edge of a small town. It wasn't very special. Thirty years old, made of brick, and had four windows with a size and proportion with the rest of the house that was anything but aesthetically pleasing. The only person to which this house held any special value was a man named Arthur Kirkland or is it Dent? For the sake of this parody and in order to prevent confusions between the main character from the book named after a book (who's first name just also happens to be Arthur) the main character of this parody is known as Arthur Kirkland. In the universe of this parody the main character's differences with the one from the original book this story parodies don't stop at last names. Arthur Dent is about thirty years old; tall; and dark haired. Arthur Kirkland, on the other hand, is younger, twenty-three on that particular Thursday. He isn't very tall either standing in at 175 cm (or 5' 9" for those who prefer the imperial system) and his hair is anything but dark being a shade of blond that was paler but certainly not dull, and when hit with certain lights his hair even gained a golden halo. His eyebrows, however... well the best way to describe them would be thick, expressive, and surprisingly well kept. Visually they were one of his more well-known traits. The similarities between the two didn't stop at first names. For starters both characters are English. Arthur Dent used to live in London and moved to this small house as London made him nervous and irritable. Arthur Kirkland outside this universe still lives in London, but for the sake of this parody he has also moved (his reason being escaping his siblings). Their personalities are similar too, both being never quite at ease with themselves and being prone to worrying. Arthur Kirkland just being a little fierier but an English gentleman nonetheless.

The night before this particular Thursday it rained quite heavily as it is known to do in England. The ground outside was wet and muddy, however, that morning the sun was shining bright and clear as it shone down on Arthur's house for what was to be the very last time.

See, it hadn’t properly registered for Arthur that the council wanted to knock his house down and build a bypass through the rubble.

That morning at eight o'clock Arthur woke up not feeling very well. He did not enjoy the sunshine. Instead, he wanted to crawl back in his blankets and curse the sun away as it was effectively making his morning much worse. Instead, he forced himself to get up which he did quite blearily. He got up, opened a window, caught sight of a bulldozer outside, found his red, fuzzy slippers and slipped them on, grabbed his favorite dark green dressing gown and slipped that on as well, then stomped off to the bathroom for a wash.

Toothpaste on the brushㅡso. Scrub.

Shaving mirrorㅡpointing at the ceiling. Arthur adjusted it. For a split second a second bulldozer could be seen in the reflection as it was visible through the bathroom window. He completely ignored this and with the mirror now properly adjusted it show Arthur his own face and his stubble which he promptly shaved off. Arthur washed his face, dried it off, then stomped off to the kitchen to find something to eat or drink for that matter.

Kettle, plug, fridge, milk, tea. Yawn.

For a brief moment the word bulldozer found it’s way into Arthur’s thoughts. He tried to find something to connect the word to.

The bulldozer outside the kitchen window was certainly a big one. Large enough to take care of a house.

For a moment Arthur stared at it.

“What an ugly shade of yellow.” He thought before stomping back to his bedroom to get dressed. He didn’t get very far.

Before he got back to his bedroom Arthur took a quick pit stop at the bathroom in order to fetch a glass of water to drink. Then he drank another. It was at this point Arthur began to suspect that he was in fact hungover. It wasn't uncommon for Arthur to wake up with an annoying alcohol induced headache but the question that crossed his mind is why? Of course in order to be hung over one had to have been drinking. So why had he been drinking? His thoughts were interrupted by a flash of color in the shaving mirror. "Yellow..." was all that was thought before Arthur proceeded to the bedroom.

In the middle of picking out his clothes memories of last night suddenly came rushing back. “The pub,” was the first thing that came to mind, “of course it was the bloody pub! Where else could it have been?!” After that short internal argument more memories returned but in a very vague fashion. He remembered being fairly upset about... something. He’d been complaining about it to other random pub goers in a drunk whining sort of fashion. The clearest visual recollection was of the glazed, drunken looks on the faces of others in the pub. What was it that made him feel the need to become absolutely smashed over? Arthur wracked his brain trying to remember. “Something... bypass...” He mumbled. Deciding that is wasn’t extremely important he resumed getting ready for his day.

Dear God though his hangover was almost unbearable. Whatever he did he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was forgetting something extremely important. Arthur caught a glance of himself in the wardrobe mirror, proceeded to call himself an utter twat for drinking too much yet again, then attempted to fix his messy hair in the mirror. It didn’t help much, his hair was naturally a mess. He settled for the usual level of tame which meant the choppy layers of his hair laid relatively neatly. The word yellow came to mind again and Arthur tried to find something to connect the word to.

Fifteen seconds later he was outside his house laying in the mud in front of a big yellow bulldozer that was advancing up his garden path.

Mr. Raivis Galante was, as they say, only human. Which meant that he's a bipedal carbon-based life form which shared a common ancestor with apes which live on earth. Mr. Raivis Galante more specifically was in his late teens to early twenties (though he looked to be around 15), short, scrawny, and worked for the local council. On a completely unnecessary note Mr. Galante was a direct male descendant of Alexander Nevsky. He really didn't look much like Alexander and was by no means a warrior type, in fact, he was a nervous, worried man. The reason he was particularly nervous and worried that Thursday morning was his job has something go seriously wrong as Arthur Kirkland's house was supposed to be demolished by the end of the day and Arthur Kirkland was laying in the mud in front of his house preventing the bulldozers from doing their job.

“C-come off it, Mr. Kirkland,” he said with a nervous stutter, “you can’t win, y-you know. I-It’s not like you can lay in f-front of the bulldozer forever.” The small man tried to look intimidating by trying to produce a fire in his eyes but it was near impossible for him to look anything close to intimidating.

Arthur lay there in the mud unmoving as he spat back with his usual English stubbornness.

“I’m game,” he responded confidently, “we’ll see who rots here first. I know it won’t be me.”

“I-I’m afraid you have to a-accept it,” Mr. Galante said fidgeting with the hem of his jacket, “w-we have to build this bypass, a-and we’re going to do it!” He ended up shouting trying to swallow his nerves, but the effort had no effect.

"Well this is the first I've heard of it," Arthur commented casually, "why's it got to be built in the first place?"

The smaller man’s hands balled into fists but he forced them to relax. He wouldn’t be able to hit Arthur anyways. “What do you mean why?” His stutter was gone thanks to his building frustrations. “It’s a bypass, you’ve got to build it.”

A bypass is a simple structure that allows people to get to one point to another and vice versa. Arthur lived in between these hypothetical points and found no use for the bypass. Raivis wanted to be far away from any of these points especially if it meant he wasn't dealing with Arthur. However, none of this justifies the young man's logic over why the bypass must be built.

Raivis shifted his weight around uncomfortable not being able to find a suitable balance. Someone hadn’t done their job right and he could only pray that it wasn’t him.

“Y-you were entitled to make a-any suggestions or protests back when it would have b-been appropriate, Mr. Kirkland.” The small man’s stutter returned along with his nerves. He avoided making eye contact with the Brit lying on the ground as he continued to shift uncomfortably.

“Appropriate time?” Arthur mused with fake interest. “Appropriate time?” When he repeated the phrase his tone was less amused. “The first I knew about this bloody construction project was when a workman just happened to pop by my house the other day. He was the first to tell me anything about your bypass by informing me quite bluntly that my house was to be demolished. Demolished, and at first I thought he was there to clean the bleeding windows! Which I might add that he did charging me a fiver before dropping that bomb on me.” Arthur was absolutely fuming. Even laying there in the mud in his dressing gown he managed to be frightening.

"B-but Mr. Kirkland, th-the plans have been available in the planning office for the l-last nine months." Mr. Galante tried fruitlessly to reason with the disgruntled Englishman in front of him but Arthur was having none of it.

"Oh, as soon as I found out I went down to your planning office to see them. I headed straight there yesterday afternoon. They weren't exactly somewhere a normal person could find them easily. Absolutely no effort was put into calling attention to them!" Arthur's words were dripping with venom and sarcasm.

“B-but the plans were on d-display...”

“On display?! I had to go into the cellar to find them!”

“Th-that’s the display department.”

“I had to bring a torch with me!”

“Th-the lights must have gone...”

“Yes apparently so had the stairs.”

“B-but you found the notice, d-didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Arthur said seething with rage, “yes I did. It was on display in the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory with a sign on the door saying ‘Beware of the Leopard.’ ”

Mr. Galante frowned slightly as a cloud passed overhead casting a shadow over Arthur and his house the former of which lay in the cold mud propped up by his elbow. He just couldn’t understand why Arthur would defend such a house so feverishly.

“It’s not as if it’s a particularly nice house...” he mumbled showing off his bad habit of saying the wrong things at the wrong time. It usually resulted in making someone angry, if they weren’t angry already.

“Well excuse me, but I happen to like it.” Arthur replied with an incredibly sarcastic voice.

“You’ll like the bypass!” Raivis tried to counter.

“Oh piss off!” Arthur spat. “Just piss off and go away, and take your bloody bypass with you! You haven’t got a leg to stand on and you know it!”

Mr. Galante’s mouth opened and closed several times as he wracked his brain for something to say in response to Arthur’s outburst. His mind for a moment was filled with visions of Arthur’s house being torn apart in the most horrific of ways some of which ended in a blaze of fire with Arthur himself running and screaming from the flaming ruin. Raivis was sometimes plagued with these dark thoughts but he could never act on them being too nervous and worried to do so.

"M-m-mr. Kirk-kland?" He stuttered trying to pull his thoughts back from the dark place they accidentally slipped into.

“Yes? What is it?” Arthur had no patience left in his voice.

“J-just wondering, do you have any idea how much damage a bulldozer would suffer if I  just let it roll straight over you?” The small, trembling man had no actual intention of doing such a thing, he just wanted to see if it would scare Arthur off.

“No, how much?” Arthur asked.

“None at all.” Raivis responded with bravado before storming off.

By curious coincidence, “None at all” is exactly how much suspicion Arthur held over whether his closest friends was in fact not an earth native life form. This friend was in fact from a small planet far away from Earth somewhere in the vicinity of Betelgeuse not from a Gildford as this friend usually claimed.

[peachwizard]

Giving Up

Request:  Hi! Can you a sis fic based kind of like 11x12 in which the reader is staying with Jody, Claire and Alex because she screwed up a few hunts and when Sam and Dean come they see she is sad because she doesn’t have many friends and gave up hunting because Dean told her she was bad at it? Just basically really fluffy and angsty. Maybe she ends up saving Sam and Dean? I know it’s kinda long but I hope you take it into account :)) @newyorkrebel

A/N: As always, sorry for being dead to the world. I literally have hardly any free time and the free time I do have I don’t have the inspiration to write. Would love your feedback if you have any to give! Thanks guys I appreciate you for sticking with me even though I’m not a frequent writer. 

Characters: Sister!Reader, Dean, Sam, Claire (mentioned), Alex (mentioned), Jody, John (mentioned)

Warnings: swearing, angst, violence, arguing, self doubt/harsh words about self to self?, Dean being mean, fluff, mention of death but no dying.. I think that’s it, as always let me know if I missed anything

Tagging: @winchesters-favorite-girl @mycuddlycorner @percussiongirl2017 @wonderange @leenasleena-blog @tolaughistolove  If you wanna be added/removed let me know!

You were laying in bed with your headphones on, blocking out the world, listening to your favorite song that helped you forget how much your life sucked right now. You were thankful that Claire wasn’t in the room you both shared and both frequented, since you had a somewhat similar outlook on life. Pushed away and abandoned by those you cared about most, and hating your life. You had one difference, and that was that you no longer wanted to hunt, whereas Claire wanted to hunt more than anything, in fact, that’s where she was right now, investigating for a possible hunt. You figured that Claire only wanted to hunt because no one told her she sucked at it. She was a good hunter for sure, and you thought you were, but according to your brothers, who you loved more than anything, you were no good.

You had just finished a hunt, four ghosts were all haunting a recently renovated hotel, and all three of you left with a fair share of scratches, cuts, and bruises. Although you were fine, all of the people were not. One person, the hotel manager, a really nice but ignorant young man, was killed in your final battle to salt and burn the ghosts.

They all were buried in the back of the hotel, and he came out to yell at you for digging up their nice new garden. You tried to save him, but not every ending was a happy one. It wouldn’t have been so bad, people die on the job all the time, you can’t get attached, except that Dean was yelling at you and blaming you for it. For as often as he told you not to get attached, he was a bit of a hypocrite.

You, of course, were not going to sit there and take your moron older brother yelling at you for no reason, so you started fighting back. You and Dean were almost exactly alike, just as stubborn and hotheaded as the other. You went back and forth all the time, just shouting nonsense at each other until Sam broke it up and you both calmed down and apologized to each other on the long ride back to the bunker, however, this time was different.

Instead of you being cut off by Sam’s insistence to shut up because you were giving him a headache, you were cut off by Dean’s harsh words, you could hear them over and over again in your head every moment of the day since he said them, “Yeah well we would never have the problem of people dying or us ever screwing up a case if Y/N didn’t suck and wasn’t such a goddamn terrible hunter! You make the Winchester name a disappointment.”

After that the three of you were silent on the car ride back to the bunker, you waited for the boys to pass out, packed a bag, wrote a note, and high tailed it out to Jody’s. Maybe if you couldn’t hunt you could be better at normal life. Or at least that’s what you thought. Being with Jody for a few months now, you had attended a normal high school and literally had no friends. You were just some freak girl that came in the middle of the year and had a weird liking for flannel, even when it was too hot to wear.

It also didn’t help that you had the IQ of a squirrel. You may have gotten Sammy’s puppy dog eyes and bitch face, but you most certainly did not get his brain. Every class you took you were horrible in, it was a good thing you were home schooled by Sam and didn’t go to actual school before this, because you definitely would have failed out.

You heard the door open and close and voices that were not what you were used to hearing, so you took out your headphones and looked down the stairs, only to hear and get a glimpse of your two older brothers. All you could manage to think was that it had been months and they only came to see you now. They tried calling and texting you and Jody, but you would never answer and refused to talk when Jody tried to make you. You figured if they really wanted you they would come get you, and you figured out soon enough that they did not really want you. You figured that Sam agreed with what Dean said, and they both thought you were a bad hunter.

Upon further listening, you realized they didn’t actually come to see you. There was a hunt nearby and were asking if Jody and Claire would come help. JODY and CLAIRE. They didn’t even want to talk to you, they didn’t want your help on any hunts, they really just didn’t want you at all. You went back to your room and locked the door, you didn’t want to hear anymore of the conversation.

You stayed locked in your room the first two days the boys were around except to sneak down to grab some food when you got hungry. They would come and knock on the door occasionally and you would give them the silent treatment as they tried to talk to you through the door. You didn’t want to hear their pathetic excuses, so when you started to feel like you just might go open it, you put your headphones in to drown out their voices.

The third night you heard your brothers go out back to check whatever they supposedly had heard, then you heard Jody shouting their names and rushing out after them. That couldn’t be good. From overhearing their conversations downstairs the past three days, you knew that they were hunting werewolves. Well at least they were, it seemed that now the werewolves were hunting them.

You reached under your bed where you kept your duffel filled with all of your weapons, including the gun your dad bought for you, and the silver knife from Dean. You loaded the gun with silver bullets and strapped the knife to your thigh and ran down the stairs as quickly, but as quietly as you could.

Through the open back door you could see your brothers and Jody on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs in front of the werewolves. From what you could see and hear, it was probably about six or seven of them. You were definitely going to die taking them on alone, but you weren’t going to sit by while your big brothers and the only woman you had ever known as a mother get massacred.

You stepped out into the open and shot the two standing in front of the open doorway, one right after the other. They clearly didn’t realize that anyone else was home or involved. When the third came rushing through the door, you shot him too. When four more came rushing at you, you panicked.

Y/N, why do you suck at hunting? Why are you a failure at the one thing that you should know how to do? Why are you such a disappointment to the Winchester name? Was all that was flooding through your head. In your hesitation, they were much closer. Oh yeah, you were gonna die. You shut down the thoughts in your head, adrenaline came rushing into your system, your basic instincts to survive took hold, you told that voice that sounded remarkably like Dean to shut the fuck up, and you managed to shoot and kill a fourth before the other three advanced on you.

You grabbed your knife and prepared for a bloody fight. You knew you were fighting, harder than you ever had. These werewolves were almost twice your size and had superhuman strength. You could feel yourself getting bruised, broken, and cut, but you kept going because you knew otherwise you would die.

You finally looked around at the bloodshed in front of you. The three werewolves lied dead in front of you just as you heard Dean, Sam, and Jody all rush in. They must have tied them together pretty well if they all just escaped now, your brothers were known for being able to get themselves out of sticky situations, but this time it appears that it could have been too late.

Suddenly, you realized all the blood over you, from head to toe. You weren’t sure what belonged to you and what belonged to the werewolves. Dean made a beeline for you and grabbed your face with both of his hands, checking to see if you were alright. He then started looking down your body for any serious injuries, and when he found none he immediately grabbed you and held you close to his body, one arm wrapped around your back and the other holding your head to the crook of his neck.

“Oh god. Sweetheart, are you alright? Taking on seven werewolves alone? Are you insane? Holy shit. You’re okay. You’re okay...” he started mumbling over and over to himself. When he pulled back you could see the tears in his eyes, which is what made you break down and pull him back into a hug. “Shhh. It’s alright. I’m here. Sammy’s here. We’re here. I’m so sorry. You did so good. You are a hell of a hunter, Y/N/N. I didn’t mean any of it, I’m so sorry.”

When you finally calmed yourself down enough you looked up at him, “I couldn’t let them kill you guys. I love you. I’m sorry I suck at hunting, Dean, and I always make everyone die.”

“Oh honey, that’s not true. You just saved all of us. You don’t suck at hunting. I was just angry and then couldn’t find the words to apologize. You are one damn good hunter. I couldn’t have killed all those werewolves myself when I was your age. I love you so much, sweetheart.”

You both rambled back and forth until Sam could tell everything was fine and then reached in and grabbed you from Dean for a hug.

“Hey, Sammy,” you smiled at him.

“Hey, Y/N. We’ve missed you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I thought you guys just didn’t want me anymore because I thought that you thought that I was a bad hunter... You never even tried to get me from Jody’s.”

“No way. You are just as good as any Winchester. We just figured that maybe with Jody you could get out of the life. That’s why we didn’t come take you back. We’re sorry. We went about it all the wrong way. We want you back with us, at least if that’s what you want.”

“Of course that’s what I want. I’ve missed you two morons like crazy.”

“Let’s get going then. Go get your stuff.”

You let Sam go and rushed up the stairs to get all your stuff from your room. While you were gone, Jody spoke to Sam and Dean, “If I ever hear that you two say anything like that again to your little sister, I am driving myself over to that bunker and letting you idiots have it. Am I understood?”

They both looked at her with caution in their eyes and nodded their heads, “Yes ma’am.”

[brutalsmash]

days 3-6 notes only

it’s been a little longer than i’d have liked since i last wrote in this, but i was overwhelmed with work in a way that i didn’t think was possible at my job. i really like doing a checklist style breakdown of my week just because it’s fun to, but i have undertaken an endeavor of self improvement not to guilt myself if i don’t do something i want, but acknowledge my limits as a person and that i can’t often hit my goals (in this case, consistent logging). of course, the lesson here is to keep earnestly trying, be truthful with myself concerning my limits, and examine what hinders me (and the locus of control it has). but i digress.

this week was incredibly hard at work. i was on a really cool (and highly publicized!) project that required all my time and effort, a lot of collaboration with others, and generally just tons and tons of things on my plate all at once. i stayed late every single day except monday and tuesday and fatigue began really sinking in thursday. i worked on two additional enormous projects that needed more than one day turnarounds but, alas, by the time i could pick them up, they were due the same day. as annoying as it was, annoying being too mild of a word to describe my feelings thursday night, i helped a shitload of people and even got some really sweet feedback from another department for taking on their work. 

i worked out on all my planned days this week, and not only am i getting stronger, i had a weigh in at 124.6 lbs, 26 in waist, 36 in hips. it helped save me a pretty penny by eating home every day and cooking my own food, and i LOVE having a nice smoothie every so often! i’m trying not to go crazy counting calories, though i do count pretty diligently, and if indulge it’s usually something i’ve made at home or a nice meal out and about. i think my relationship with food is improving. it feels good.

i exercised on all my scheduled days, and even made some muscle gains. cleaning and hygeine was pretty consistent, i think i didn’t brush my teeth or do litter last night (when i got home drunk late) but so far so good! i think what i’m going to do is plan what little thing i’m going to clean in advance to stay more on track with that. this week wasn’t too terribly conducive to self-fare, but i’ve got a lot of exciting things coming this week. maybe that will help. 

this whole month is going to be crazy, but i noticed this week that even though i think the changes i’ve started to make are pretty minute, they’ve really helped in me bouncing back relatively quickly. like, i would probably be sobbing daily, injuring or begging to injure myself, or generally practicing bad containment, but i haven’t been. i’ve been frustrated, sure, but that is also okay. i’m still working on a lot, especially things like patience, not apologizing for myself, and taking a route of kindness towards myself instead of immediate put-downs.

i want to go into this more robustly, but i have a massive headache. this week i’m getting a tattoo, getting my hair dyed, getting invisaligns (or signing the contract for them), and who knows what else. hopefully i’ll be ready. hopefully.