#everyone fuck off and grow up and put yourselves in the bin

[panspaming]

Stupid fucking customers who ask us to pay them to rectify mistakes that They Caused ✌️✌️

[skzhera]

A bit from a US interview. PT2

TW : This is not a real incident. This is entirely fictional. Eight out of the nine people mentioned in the fic are real human beings, the rest are completely fictional. Do not quote.

Synopsis: A little snip-bit from an interview from a podcaster friend of Chris’ while they were in NYC. This is not the entire interview. Just some incidents that made onto the news.

This is part two! Check out Hera's masterlist for part 1 and more such scenarios!!

Matt: Wow! So, now that the air’s cleared for you guy’s stories, why don’t ya’ll tell me, or rather introduce yourselves to me in your full names, English names included!

Chan: AHH Okay! Seungmin, you take the lead!

Seungmin: Alright. My English name is Sky or Kim Sky Seungmin. So, Sky Kim in the schools.

Matt: I always found it so fucking adorable!

Hera: Me too! But then I look at that (She pointed at his face), and I get put off.

*They all chortle*

Chan: Everyone knows mine! It’s, Bang Christopher Chan. So, Chris Bang, but everyone called me Chris or channie in school.

Han: Even though I moved around a lot, I didn’t exactly have an English name. I just used Jisung. But during debut we spoke about getting official names so as to make it easier I guess…?

That made me Han Jake Jisung. So, Jake Han.

Matt: Man! We call you Han so easily that I almost forgot it’s not your Name name ahaha

Jeongin: Similar story, I did not have a English name growing up and so when we became a band, it was actually Hera who suggested I get the name Jack! So, Yang Jack Jeongin. So, I.N. or Jack Yang! Hera: it just sounds so good! Matt: it does!! Hera: and I suggested jack because, well when you look at him, he just gives major ‘Jack’ vibes. *She said, finishing with a shrug*

Matt: Hyunjin? Hyunjin: Oh yeah! My English name is Andrew, everyone called me Andy. So, Hwang Andrew Hyunjin or Andy Hwang.

Matt: Ugh so hot! Hyunjin: Aiii dude! Matt: Lee know? Lee know: Okay so I have story for baby stays or even stays who don’t know it yet.

So my English name is Roy but everyone at home called me Ry. Don’t ask. It’s another Asian thing. Your pet names don’t really have to make sense. So that became Ry Lee in school. And my Korean name is Minho so when people would read my complete name it would be Ry minho, Ry-Know.

Matt: RHINO!! Lee know: Yep! So complete name, Lee Roy Minho or Roy Lee, or just Ry.

Felix: Well, everyone knows but Felix is my English name. So, in the Korean format, I am Lee Felix Yongbok. Felix Lee in school.

Matt: Changbin…

Changbin: Oh it’s Daniel, but everyone called me Dan. So, Seo Daniel Changbin, Dan Seo. Matt: Thatwashot.

Hera: Well, for me, I am not Korean but I do have a Indian name. That’s Saee. Only Ry and Sky use my Indian name, Bin occasionally. At home, both Changbin and Lee know’s parents use my Indian name. Hera is my English name that I use around. So in the Korean format, it would make me Armani Saee Hera, but Hera and Saee both being my names and Armani being my last name.

Matt: That sounds really nice. Well, I think we have learned more about Stray kids in the past couple of hours that how much we knew about them in their entire online career! Chan: All on your show! Changbin: All for you! Matt: immensely and truly grateful!

Hera's Masterlist!

[its-monster-mash]

Wild Thing: Part 2

Paul (The Lost Boys) X Michael’s Ex!Fem!Reader Imagine

Content Warnings: She/her pronouns, Canon Typical violence/weed/Alcohol/Lite Vampiric Manipulation/Blood

Part 1

This is really long so it’s going under a Readmore

• It’s a miracle all of you made it in one piece; the boys had played a nasty trick on Michael; and he damn near went over the edge of Hudson’s Bluff. Normally it took a lot to rattle you, but in that split second before Michael was actually able to stop, you practically felt your heart stop. It wasn’t every day you watched your best friend nearly fall to his death. You can feel Paul’s abdomen tighten beneath your arms as he laughs. It’s a cruel sound, and you’re not sure if it’s at Mike’s expense or yours. David nods toward him, and he turns to look back at you, grinning like the fox in the henhouse. “Oh come on babe, lighten up.”

• As soon as he catches his breath, Michael lunges at David, understably furious. You’re pissed as hell yourself, but when you try to climb off of Paul’s bike to give them all a piece of your mind, he grabs your thigh, keeping you in place. You open your mouth to tell him off, but he interrupts you. “Shhh girlie, just look, s’all cool.”

• You’re about to argue with him when instead of knocking David’s lights out or storming off, you notice Michael talking to him, Star looking entirely uncomfortable between them. “How far are you willing to go, Michael?” Your jaw practically drops in surprise when you see Mike nod, getting back on his bike. It worries you, this is so unlike him.

• Paul smiles down at you, no trace of his cruelty from earlier. He jostles your leg playfully. “See? It was just a little joke, everything’s cool.” You can’t help but lose yourself a little in his beautiful blue eyes, there is just something about him that makes you want to relax. “Cool,” you repeat back to him, sliding your arms around his midsection again. “Atta girl.”

• The rest of the ride is pretty uneventful, and you come to a stop at the mouth of a cave, with no shortage of signs warning of the dangers within. “Oh please tell me we’re going in there,” you say with a grin; this is absolutely up your alley, and Michael shakes his head at you with an exasperated smile. How many ill-thought-out adventures had you dragged Mike on growing up together? You can’t help but recall the time you found that creepy old military bunker and accidentally locked yourselves in...the two of you ended up finding an alternative exit that opened up into the library basement of all places...

• Paul helps you off the bike, tugging you against his chest so he can whisper in your ear. “It’s your lucky night babe.” You can’t help but grin like an idiot as your heart races. He presses a teasing kiss to the side of your head and you feel yourself begin to melt.

• “We’re not seriously going down there, are we?” Mike pipes up, catching your attention much to Paul’s annoyance. “Mike wants to know if we’re seriously going down there,” Marko repeats, circling the cavern. “I dunno Marko, are we seriously going down there?” Dwayne asks, joining him. “We understand if you can’t hang, Michael,” David mocks with a false tone of sincerity. Paul wraps his arm around you, pulling you tight against him. “Yeah Michael, you don’t need to worry about (Y/N), I’ll keep her nice and safe.” “Stop it!” Star scolds him, taking Mike’s arm. “Don’t listen to them Michael, you can still back out if you want.” David stalks toward the edge of the cavern, his expression foreboding and mischievous. “It’s time to make a decision, Michael.”

• “Well, Either way I’m going in,” you say, getting a little impatient. You were never one to wait around while everyone else danced around a decision. “I’ll help you down,” Paul chimes in a bit too eagerly. He slides his arm around your waist, holding you tightly hip to hip before he jumps down into the cave.

• You gasp, very much expecting to break an ankle or something with the way Paul just leaped down in, but are surprised when your feet touch the ground almost feather light. “How did you DO that?” You whisper in astonishment. “Baby, I am all kinds of magic.” “What are you, the fucking Goblin King?”

• He laughs, watching you squint in the pitch darkness of the cave. “Hey I’ll take that as a compliment, Bowie’s hot as fuck.” “So are you,” you say, trying to reach for where his voice came from, but he leans away from you with a smirk, watching you stumble. “You know what the difference between me and Jareth is though?” You turn around to face him, gasping when he presses you into the cold cave wall. “I’m gonna get the girl.”

• You wrap your arms around his shoulders in excitement. It’s too dark for you to see him, but you part your lips and let your eyes fall shut, expecting a kiss. He doesn’t kiss you just yet though, holding back a moment to drink in the sight of you, beautiful and ready to give yourself to him. His lips only barely touch yours before you’re startled by the sound of several more pairs of feet hitting the ground. He groans with disappointment. “Guess we’ll have to put a pin in this,” he whispers, grazing his teeth ever so delicately against your ear. You shudder.

• Your eyes sting a bit as the cave is suddenly illuminated as Dwayne circles the room, lighting improvised trash bin braziers as he goes. Your jaw drops as you admire the sheer aesthetic of the place. Paul smiles with pride at your positive reaction.

• “What is this place?” Mike asks, climbing down from the ladder you probably should have used. David claps a hand on his shoulder, before moving to circle the cavern. “It was a Hotel once,” David says, gesturing to the now faded and ruined wallpaper. “The Jewel of Santa Carla, really.” He sounds wistful and nostalgic, almost as if he had seen the hotel in its heyday. He goes on to talk about the events leading up to its destruction, but you can hardly pay attention with the way Paul’s fingers trace little patterns against your exposed skin.

• You notice Star staring at you, almost like she’s worried...about what? Michael looks down at her, brow creasing as he follows her concerned gaze to see you standing all cozy with Paul. His eyes widen and he looks away, swallowing awkwardly. David seems to notice, and he looks straight at the pair of you. “Paul, it’s your turn to pickup dinner.” “But-” He protests, squeezing your arms just a little too tightly to be comfortable, but is cut off by the look of finality on David’s face. He sighs in deep frustration, releasing you for just a second before he startles you with a deep and forceful kiss. You barely have a chance to actually enjoy the kiss before he’s pulling away, looking at you with just the sweetest smile that makes you melt. “Wait up for me, okay?” You nod in agreement, blushing furiously. You hardly notice him side eyeing Mike as he turns to leave. “I’ll be back soon.” Just as he sets foot on the ladder, he suddenly turns around, jogging back to place another quick peck to your lips. “Okay, I can go now.”

• “Why don’t you go with him, Star,” David says, causing both Mike and Star to stare at him. “Or else we’ll end up with nothing but fortune cookies and chinese doughnuts.” Star looks at Michael apologetically, staring David down while she moves to exit the cave.

• You look over at Mike, smiling sheepishly and scratching the back of your neck. “Friendly guy,” he teases you, trying to cut through the awkwardness. David laughs, moving to clap a hand on Mike’s shoulder and yours. “What are the odds, huh? The two of you ending up lured into our little family.” Mike cracks a grin. “(Y/N) never could pass up an adventure.” David’s own face splits into a wide grin. “And what about you, Michael? What made you decide to follow us after all the crap we gave you?” “I go where she goes,” Mike says, crossing his arms defensively. “Really? Kinda looks like she’d be entertained plenty without you,” David nods toward you. “Paul’s taken quite a liking to her...that bother you?” “No,” Mike says a bit too forcefully; he never was very good at lying. “Hey, back off.” The words come out of your mouth before you even think about it. David looks at you with stunned amusement. “Yeah, back off David,” Marko mocks you. Dwayne shoves him a little.

• You take a deep breath; Mike tended to close himself off, but you were never very good at holding your tongue when you got upset...still, you didn’t want to overstep your boundaries in the boys’ own territory. “Look, Mike and I were together for a lot of years. Of course it’s weird to see each other with new people-” “You don’t seem too bothered to see him with Star,” Dwayne says from his seat on the old moth eaten couch. David grins, looking between you and Mike. He claps his hands together. “I think maybe these two could use a minute to talk things out, what do you boys think?” Dwayne nods in agreement, and Marko makes kissy noises; Dwayne gives him a light smack to the chest, before the three of them go chill in the other side of the cave to give you and Michael a little space.

• You and Mike stare at each other awkwardly; you gesture to the floor by the fountain. “You wanna sit?” “Yeah,” he agrees, his voice a little hoarse as the two of you take a seat leaning against the fountain. You sit quietly for a bit, awkwardly picking at your fingernails, before Mike breaks the silence. “I’m not upset that you’re moving on.” You turn to face him, and he continues. “I’m trying to move on too...it’s just-” “What?” “Him? (Y/N)? How did you even meet these guys?” You scoff, a little offended by the contempt in his voice when he mentioned Paul, it’s the same way his dad’s family talked about you when Mike first started bringing you around as kids. “He saved me. I was being harassed by a group of guys off the boardwalk, and Paul scared them off.” His gaze turns to his feet, partly ashamed at pre-judging Paul, and oddly ashamed of himself. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” You scoff humorously, patting him on the back. “Mike, it’s not your job to protect me, I can look after myself.” “What would have happened if Paul hadn’t shown up?” You laugh, flashing him the knife tucked discreetly into your boot. “Like I said, Mike, I can look after myself.” He lets out a deep sigh, smiling at you sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

• You give him a friendly smack to the shoulder, lightening the mood a bit. “And what about you, Mr. Badboy, with your leather jacket and fancy earring,” you tease. “What happened to the goodie-two-shoes I grew up with?” It’s Mike’s turn to scoff, he grins at you. “Wow, it’s almost like having my first love leave me for being too much of a Goodie-Two-Shoes right before my parents get divorced fucked me up a little, huh?” “Mike...I-” He laughs, giving your arm a playful shrug. “Hey, no, in all seriousness you were right. I never really pushed the envelope growing up unless I was following you. I just thought with the move that maybe it’s time for me to reinvent myself, you know? Explore what I want for a change.” He’s smiling, and you smile back at him. “She’s beautiful,” you say. “I think she likes you too.” A blush creeps up on his face, and he can’t keep himself from smiling. “Well I’m not sure if Paul likes you,” he teases, trying to draw the attention away from himself. “He might just kiss everyone like that, we don’t know.” You can’t help but laugh, shoving Mike. He decides to be dramatic, falling over onto the floor like you actually pushed him. He sits up on his elbows, smiling at you like he used to when you were kids. You return the favor.

• Unbeknownst to you, Paul stands in the entrance of the cave, his chest tightening as he watches you laugh and smile with Mike. He walks over to you quietly, so he can startle you when he drops to the ground to sit next to you. “Easy there, Mikey. You had your chance,” he says with thinly veiled contempt as he throws his arm around you. He hands you a carton of takeout. “You seem like a beef and broccoli kind of girl, hope that’s alright.” You smile up at him, cradling the hot container carefully in your hands. “It’s my favorite, thank you so much.” He smiles back, very pleased with himself.

• Star calls Mike over, handing him a carton of plain rice. She apologizes, saying she wasn’t sure what he’d like. She doesn’t quite believe him when he insists that it’s fine. “He means it Star, he hates chinese food, the rice is all he’ll eat,” you clarify. David perks up, stirring a carton of noodles. “You hate Chinese food? Jesus Michael, how could a billion Chinese people be wrong?” “Guess not everyone likes flavor,” Paul taunts, skewering his General Tso’s with his chopsticks. “‘Least I know how to use chopsticks,” Michael spits back, earning dramatic ooos from the boys. “He’s always been shit at it, doesn’t have the patience,” Dwayne says. “Not me,” Marko pipes up. “I can catch a fly midair.”

• “Oh fuck off, (Y/N) doesn’t care if I can use chopsticks or not, do you babe?” He asks, leaning in for a kiss. You take advantage of his momentary distraction to snatch a bite of his chicken...with your chopsticks. He gasps in mock offense at your sneakiness, and you quickly press your lips against his to make up for it. “Nope, I think it’s cute.” He’s smiling ear to ear, his big blue eyes locked on you, and your smile.

• David makes an exaggerated gagging noise, staring at the two of you and thoroughly ruining the moment. “Mind wrapping it up? Some of us are trying to eat here...Speaking of which, how are your maggots, Michael?” “Excuse me?” “Maggots, Mike, you’re eating Maggots.” Mike rolls his eyes, humoring David and looking into the cartoon. His eyes go wide and he instantly drops the carton, spilling rice all over the ground as he gags. The boys all laugh, and you look at Mike with concern. “What the hell Mike? It’s just rice.” He looks at you like you’re crazy, pointing frantically to the carton. “(Y/N) are you crazy? Look, it’s-” He looks down to see nothing but rice...certainly no maggots. “It’s...rice.” He looks up at David. “What the fuck did you do to me?” Paul laughs, pulling a positively ancient altoids tin from his jacket. “Take it easy, Mikey, you need to calm down,” he says, popping open the tin to reveal a collection of hand rolled joints.

• Your eyes light up, it’s been a while since you’ve smoked, and it’s always good with Chinese food. You look at Mike, being consoled by Star. “Could be the stress, Mike. When was the last time you even slept well since...” You don’t mention his parents’ divorce in front of the guys. That’s Mike’s business, not yours. He nods, catching your meaning. “...Yeah, yeah I’m in.” Marko jumps down from his perch, smacking Mike on the back. “Atta boy, Mikey!”

• Paul tosses Marko a joint, pulling out another and slipping it between your lips. “This one’s just for us.” He lights the joint, and you inhale deeply. “Romantic,” you say, blowing smoke at him. “I try,” he says, leaning in for a kiss as he takes the joint from your fingers. He pulls away just far enough so he can press the tip of his nose against yours. He takes a long drag, holding the smoke in as he leans in for another kiss. You inhale the smoke from his lungs, trying hard not to cough and ruin the kiss; this was the first time you were on this end of the shotgun. Your chest begins to heave, and he pulls away with a grin so you can cough in peace. “Wow, you take my breath away,” you squeak out between heaving coughs. He laughs, not a mean sound this time, but with genuine delight. “Damn babe, I think I might end up falling for you,” he jokes, hand on his heart.

• You planned on sassing him back, but you find yourself lost in his big beautiful eyes. You swallow, hard. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the excitement of the night, but you can’t help but think that sounds...kind of nice. You glance around the cave, at the guys, and back at Paul. Would it be so bad to stay here forever? You’re broken out of your trance by a musical tinging sound, you and Paul both look up to see David clinking an old spoon against the gaudiest decorated wine bottle you’ve ever seen. Oddly; Paul tenses beside you, his hand on your knee almost trembling.

• David turns to Mike with the wickedest look on his face. “Join us, Michael.” Star grabs onto Mike, looking even more tense than Paul does now. “You don’t have to do it, Michael. It’s not too late to back out,” she urges. “What is it?” “Blood,” she says. You laugh at the obsurdity, and Mike shakes his head at her, knocking back the bottle and drinking deeply. The boys cheer, and David turns the bottle to you. “(Y/N)...drink, and be with us forever.”

• Before you can reach for it, Paul holds his hand out to David. Unfortunately, it slips out of his hand, the bottle shattering at your feet, spilling wine over your shoes. David shoots him the nastiest look, and Paul puts his hands up in apology. “Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry; I’ll clean that up,” he says, dropping to his knees. You drop down beside him, and his eyes go wider than you’d ever seen them. “(Y/N)-” “I can help.” “No, You don’t need-” Suddenly he winces, and you instinctively grab his hand. “Fuck,” he grunts, watching the blood well up in his palm. He puts his hand to his mouth, trying to cover the bleeding. “Shit, Paul, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” “Maybe you should kiss it better,” Marko taunts. “I’m fine, (Y/N), really.” He gazes at you soothingly with those eyes of his, trying not to wince as you blot at his bleeding hand with your shirt. “You’re bleeding like crazy-” you start to argue, before noticing that his hand is hardly bleeding anymore. How could that be? He flexes his hand gingerly. “See, I told you I’m fine,” he smiles at you, his eyes sparkling. “Wouldn’t mind that kiss though.” You smile back at him, taking his hand to your lips. You taste the blood still wet against his hand, and strangely, it tastes almost sweet. You wonder if maybe it’s the weed smoke on your tongue, or maybe the chinese food, that’s making his blood taste so strange. You stare up at him sheepishly, thankful he can’t tell what you were thinking just now. He caresses your face softly in his hand, and you melt into the tenderness of his touch. “You’re so cute when you’re worried about me.” He presses his lips against yours, and you’re immediately hit by the sweet taste of his blood again. Part of you is horrified with yourself; you know you should pull away, but it’s just too good. You think you might die when he slips his tongue into your mouth. All too soon he pulls away, looking more than satisfied with himself, a breathless glee in his eyes. He strokes his thumb across your mouth, coming back bloody. “Looks like we made a mess.” He leans in to whisper in your ear. “And it looks like you liked it.” Your body tenses, mortified at being caught, but he runs a comforting hand down your back. “Don’t worry babe, it’ll be our dirty little secret.”

[dontshootmespence]

Through It All

Part 26

Summary: Now married, Spencer & Y/N navigate the D/s lifestyle. How will their relationship change?

Words: 1,083

Warnings: None

A/N: Fluffffff

Now she wants all the control. It feels like you and Spencer are doing twice the laundry because she wants to feed herself, but she’s a total mess. At first, the mess bothered Spencer - he likes his things neat and tidy and in the right place - but eventually he just let it go and even started joining in messy eating just for the fun of it.

Charlotte even wants to pick her own clothes and help herself get dressed, which is difficult when you’re in a rush and just need her to put her legs in the leg holes and fucking move, but you let her do as much as she can anyway. You want to foster an independent little girl who’ll ask for help when she needs it. Thankfully, today is a slow day. It’s a Saturday and your only plans are to go get her some new clothes because she’s growing out of her 18-month clothes already.

When Spencer brings her outside, you hide your laugh. She’s chosen a pair of bright blue sweatpants and an orange shirt with pink shoes and a purple hat. “Ready to go, Charlie?”

You and Spencer gulp down the rest of your morning coffees, which are now cold and grab a banana for the trip to the store. “You want one?” Spencer asks her.

“Nanner!”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs, scooping her into his arms. “Away we go!”

----

In the store, Charlotte  takes the lead, bringing you in all different directions. Sometimes it’s toys. Sometimes it’s bikes. Sometimes it’s food. Eventually, after saying hello to everyone she passes with a tiny little wave, you find yourselves in the clothing sections. First, she drifts toward the ‘boys’ section and grabs a shirt with Mario and Yoshi on it because ‘dino,’ before quickly grabbing a shirt with Captain America’s shield on it, probably because she recognizes the one you wear at home.

After sauntering through the boys’ section and trying (with varying degrees of success) to instill in her that she couldn’t buy everything in the store, Spencer runs with her to the girls’ section, careening the shopping cart in and out of aisles like a madman. But she’s loving it, so you just shout at them to be careful, stopping long the way to get her a new pair of sneakers and a pair of slippers that look a lot like Spencer’s that she loves to try and steal.

When you finally catch up, you see Spencer holding up two different dresses, telling her to pick one. “I figure every two things she picks up she can choose one.”

“Sounds good,” you reply. “Probably more comprehensible for a 20-month-old to choose between two things rather than ‘you can’t have everything.’”

“Exactly.”

With Spencer’s method, she makes a few choices of her own - a rainbow pastel dress, light green sweatpants, a pink sweatshirt and a sparkly green dress with Ariel on it - and then chooses between some outfits that you and Spencer pick out. You make it a game to see which one of you can put together the best outfit, best in this case meaning Charlotte picks it over the other. Spencer wins twice and you win once. Then Spencer sticks his tongue out.

“Is she the 20-month-old or are you?” You laugh.

He sing-songs that he won as he carts her out of the aisle and toward the food section for the few staples you need to pick up. Charlotte asks for Daddy to ‘race’ again, and Spencer’s more than happy to oblige, using a few empty aisles to just run the cart in circles for a few minutes while you answer your phone.

Minnie’s warm voice floats over you. “Hello, dear. How are you and Spencer doing?”

“We’re doing okay. Just taking Charlotte for some new clothes.”

“Well, I have some news for you. You’ve been chosen again.”

“Really?” Your hearts races a mile a minute as you flag Spencer down and beckon him to come over. “Who is she? How far along is she?”

Spencer’s mouth drops open, his breath hitching in his throat. You’re both afraid of getting your hopes up again, but you also can’t help the excitement. Charlotte’s too busy with a sparkly heart wand she found to care, plus you and Spencer made an agreement not to say anything until you were reasonably sure your birth mother was in this for the long haul.

“Well, she’s 19. She and her boyfriend are both in agreement on this and they both love your profile. They’re on their way to prestigious universities and they don’t think they can be great parents and great students at the same time. You and Spencer could meet them both. She’s been with us since she found out at just five weeks. She’s 10 weeks along now. But there’s a catch.” Her voice trails off and your heart sinks and rises in quick succession. You can hear her smile.

“What’s the catch?” You ask.

Spencer quirks an eyebrow and he’s white-knuckling the handle of the shopping cart.

“She’s having twins. And she insists they be adopted together.”

“Twins?!”

The mixture of excitement and undeniable fear makes you want to vomit. Two at once? “Now, I know this is a big commitment. Two at once is no joke, but I wanted to let you know so that you and Spencer could talk it over. Do you think it’s something you’re interested in?”

You spoke softly, trying to still the quiver in your voice. “I think so. Spence and I need to talk things over. We can call you back in a couple of days?”

“Absolutely. If you have any questions let me know.”

A quick goodbye and she disconnects the call, leaving you to stare in amazement at your husband. “Twins. Spence, two of them? Can we do that?”

“Why not?” His smile is a mile wide. As he tousles Charlotte’s hair, tears well in his eyes. “I mean there would be an increased financial burden, but I think we could handle it, especially with the flexibility in my work schedule. I could add online classes too. I’m sure your parents could help us those first few months. And I know Penelope and Luke, Emily, JJ and Will, they’d all help us with babysitting.”

“Are we gonna have twins?” You ask, a sob bubbling up from your toes.

Spencer pulls you close and kisses the top of your head. “I think we’re having twins.”

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[spellbound-banshee]

The Way You Look At Me - Peter Parker

Summary: You notice the way Peter looks at you and you finally confront him about it.

Warnings: FLUFF, swearing, more fluff

Pairing: Peter Parker (TH) x reader

And there he was again. 

He totally didn’t think you’d notice, he’d tried to keep it a secret, but he wasn’t as good at it as he thought. You were his lab partner and quickly became his best friend after one study session at the public library, the two of you were practically inseparable. He loved everything about you, everything from the color of your hair to the little nose scrunch that would happen when you laughed. He didn’t mean to catch feelings, but once he did, he felt them growing stronger every day.

And it was totally obvious. Not only to you, but to everyone around you. So this week, you decided to help with Homecoming decorations to get service hours, and you couldn’t help but notice Peter looking at you from afar as you hung up the final sign. Admiring your hard work, you brushed off your shirt as the lunch bell rang, a sea of high-schoolers rushing towards the compost bins. When you and Peter made eye contact from across the room, he meekly looked away and picked up his tray, disappearing into the crowd.

Since you didn’t have another period with him, you had to wait to confront him until the end of the day, hopefully you’d actually catch him. Lately he’s been looking like a deer in headlights when you tried to start conversation with him. “Peter!” You yelled across the hallway, seeing him eagerly get his things in his book bag. As if he had anything interesting to do after school without you.

He looked up in confusion at the mention of his name, and his expression softened when he locked eyes with you. “Hey, (Y/n).” He replied nervously, seeing that same look of admiration in his eyes. 

“Can I talk to you for a sec? Wanna walk to Delmar’s with me?” He seemed nervous to accept, knowing that he had to patrol when he got out of school, but he could never decline you.

So you both walked to Delmar’s to get a sandwich, laughing and talking about nothing, blatantly avoiding the thing you actually wanted to ask him. Before you actually got in the store, you stopped him for a second, grabbing his arm gently and turning him around carefully. 

“I actually really needed to ask you something.” You admitted sheepishly, but Peter gave you an encouraging look, still admiration behind them. “I’ve just... I’ve noticed something... different recently. A-about you...” Peter could no longer make eye contact with you and looked down nervously, shifting in his place. “Look, I’ve noticed the way you’ve been looking at me. It’s not creepy or stalk-y or anything I just see something different there when you’re looking at me. I-I’m not sure what it is, but it’s not... the way you look at your friends.” 

You really never were good with words. Even now, you thought you sounded like a bitch, though that wasn’t your intention at all. “I just... is there something you want to tell me?” You couldn’t look at his features anymore, and the sidewalk suddenly became far more interesting than your current conversation.

“N-no...” When you looked up, Peter had taken his eyes from the sidewalk and suddenly began looking around nervously. You’d noticed the hairs on his arm stood up a bit, even though it was the middle of summer, and a breeze hadn’t brushed through the air. Even though he was distracted, you knew he was lying.

“Peter...” You started, but before you could continue that sentence, he began pushing you out of the way.

“I’m really sorry I have to go but I promise we’ll finish this conversation.” You barely heard the last part of his sentence as he was already halfway down the street, sprinting in the opposite direction. All you were left with was a confused, blank expression on your face and the electricity Peter had left on the skin of your shoulders when he moved you.

-

12:30am

Your parents hadn’t returned home from their business trip in London, you’d been home alone with your pet all week and weekend. It was way too late for you to be up, especially with a Spanish quiz tomorrow, but you just couldn’t get the way Peter ran from you out of your head. Had you really scared him that much? You were going to tell him that you liked him, assuming he felt the same way. It couldn’t be anything else. The way he looked at you, that longing, puppy-dog gaze was something you saw in every romantic comedy. It was almost annoying how something so simple and innocent could consume your every thought.

A sudden knock at the window startled your rambling thoughts, not even registering the study guide that’s been lying in your lab for hours. You thought you were hearing things, but when you heard it again you yelped and reached for your bat next to your nightstand. With shaking hands, you looked around the corner to see a shadowy man outside your window, crouching. You screamed and jumped backward, crawling towards your phone to call the police.

“Hey, hey (Y/n)! Stop! It’s okay, it’s just me.” Just him? You could’ve sworn you recognized that voice on the shadowy figure; you kept your phone in your hands, one digit away from the last as you carefully opened your window. When the light finally hit the spandex suit the man was wearing you quickly realized who it was.

“S-Spider-Man?” You shrieked, jumping back even further as he began to crawl inside your home. “Stop!” You yelled, holding out the bat in attempt to be intimidating, and the man innocently put his hands up. “How did you know my name? Who are you?” Of course, you knew he was Spider-Man, but there was something about the way that voice said your name.

“I-I’m sorry for startling you...” THAT VOICE.

“PETER?!” You screamed, hearing a distant dog barking at the sound of your shrill voice. Peter hushed you under the mask desperately, bringing his finger down to hold over his lips while the other hand told you to keep it down. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You yelled again, shoving him backwards against the wall, he stumbled backward at your force. “You’re... then how... are you... take off the fucking mask!”

He did as he was told and your knees gave out as you collapsed to the ground. You couldn’t believe it. I mean, Peter was... he was Peter. He was innocent and wouldn’t hurt a fly. And Spider-Man was... a superhero. “You can’t...��� He quickly came to the ground with you and put a hand on your back to support you, the other going to your shoulder to help calm your breathing. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Peter’s heart melted at the sound of your heartbroken voice. You were in shock obviously, but your brain couldn’t process all these emotions at once. “I’m sorry... I know I could trust you I was just... I was so scared.” You nodded at his words, leaning your head against his stomach and taking in his still familiar smell to keep you grounded. “And when I ran away... it was because I saw something big happening. I’ve been tracking some people for a while and that was my chance to stop them. But I did promise I would finish the conversation so... here I am.”

You finally took the chance to look up at his face. He looked so gorgeous, the dim light from the city streets and the moon gave his face a chiseled glow, and his hair was flat and messy from his mask. When you smiled, he exhaled a deep breath, wrapping his gloved hands around your waist and pulling you in for an embrace. The angle was a bit awkward, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Once the initial shock wore off, you found yourselves sitting on the bed in an awkward silence, picking at the skin on your thumbs. “I really like you.” Peter blurted, cringing at his word choice for a second as you looked up at him in surprise. 

“That’s why I look at you like I do. Because when I see you, time slows and I feel like I’m in one of those cheesy 90′s movies. Because when I see you, I see power, and beauty, and love. When I see you, I see everything that I could ever want, anything that I could ever possibly need. Because when I see you, I think I’m in love with you. And I know, that’s probably crazy and creepy but god I’m crazy about you. You’re all I think about when I go to sleep and when I wake up, you’re the only person I want to talk to because when I hear your voice, I’m home. I can feel it. I just feel... safe, and comfortable. Like I can be who I want to be and not be judged. I just... I adore you, (Y/n). I really do.”

By the time his speech was over, you had some tears welling in your eyes. You couldn’t help it, Peter Parker was the sweetest man to ever walk the Earth. And he looked over at you, with that same look of adoration in his eyes, the tears pricking at the back of his eyes as well. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t even breathe. You wanted to give him a speech back, tell him how he makes you feel and how mad you are about him, but you can’t. All you can do is lean forward and pull him in for a kiss.

His tearing eyes widen in surprise, but he hums contently and puts his gloved hand against your cheek, the other hand holding onto your shoulder to assure himself that this is real, and you’re here. Your hand wraps around to the back of his head, tangling your fingers through the dark locks while the other cups his cheek. Eventually, you find yourself clinging onto him, overwhelmed by passion and emotion. You don’t know where he ends and you begin, the tight embrace overwhelming still and full of all the love you have for each other.

Now you’re just full out crying on each others shoulders, silently, but enough to know how much you love each other. When you pulled away with sniffling noses, you found yourselves laughing and pressing your foreheads together. “I think I love you...” Peter chuckled, and you laughed harder, locking your hands together and smiling contently.

“Ditto, Parker. Ditto.”

-

[lumiereswig]

what if. an amnesia fic. where they. ALL. Got. A m n e s I a

fuck. you

State dinners never put Cogsworth in a good mood. Oh, he liked them afterward, when everything was going smoothly, and he could smile and make polite compliments to the diplomats’ wives, and down congratulatory bits of brandy from the sideboard, and bask in the praise of a job well done, but the beforehand bits? With everyone fussing and carousing, and Lumiere flirting with somebody in the closet when he ought to be working, and Belle being grumpy because she had to dress in something beyond cottons and calicoes, and Adam informing him that he wanted it to be “a simple affair, really,” all the while secretly picturing champagnes and party favors—well, it was enough to put anybody off their carefully-calculated stride. And that was before the table linens got involved.

“How dare you call my napkins so, you ticking time bomb?!”

“And what do you think of calling THAT, you, you, you, you perturbed piece of paraffin?! I’ve seen better displays of kitchen linen in rubbish-bins!” Cogsworth throws the napkin down with all the spirit of a furious wombat. His cheeks bulge; his eyes start; somewhere, he is sure, a blood vessel bids its last adieu. And here stands Lumiere—all forty feet of him, in all his prodigiously lanky height, dressed to the nines and tens in golden satin, having the nerve to argue with him about table settings. Even if the man hadn’t been a candelabra earlier, Cogsworth would still assume his brains to be about as abundant as a drop of wax. “If you call this party planning, I call you an Englishman! I could have done this better myself if I were half mad!”

“Than you must have been dwelling in the asylum when you taught it to me, fifteen years ago,” Lumiere retorts. “Or have you forgotten that, too, as well as I am the master of napkin-folding?”

“You’re not the master of much, if this is your example of it. Master indeed! Master, look at what this besotted fellow calls a table arrangement, and see if you can call it much of anything.”

“Is everyone in a quarrel today?” cries Adam, rubbing his head. He has a headache brewing, but nobody seems to mind; Mrs Potts is in an awful fuss about the state of the tea-pantry, and Cuisinier is haranguing her about it, and he would go hide with Belle if she wasn’t currently arguing down the joined attacks of Madame de Garderobe and Plumette on her choice of evening wear.

He hates state dinners. He really, truly hates them. He wonders if his life would be easier if he were only a servant, with the only concern on his plate being, well, the plates.

“Do I look as though I know napkins?” he says in despair. “Work it out between yourselves, please. You’ve had enough quarrels to work through this one.”

“Don’t remind me how many times I have had to listen to this fool jabber on,” says Lumiere warningly. “I cannot bear a history with so much tension to it!”

“And I cannot bear a memory of you fawning and flouncing and forgetting how to fold a napkin because you’re chasing down a girl in a cupboard!”

“Cogsworth, be fair! The girl WAS the cupboard, at the time.”

“Don’t you go bringing up the curse at a time like this!” cries Cogsworth, wagging his finger.

“Don’t you go mentioning time, when I can tell you where that second hand pointed not too long ago! Up your forehead, wasn’t it? Or did it wind around and pat your own back for you, when the occasion warranted?”

“MY HANDS WERE MY MUSTACHE, AND YOU KNOW IT,” Cogsworth explodes, and Adam flees down the hall.

Everywhere, chaos. Maids angry at footmen for putting ladders where they shouldn’t; footmen furious with maids for putting buckets where they should have known they would step. Belle bursts from her room, ribbons all stuck in her hair, shouting at Plumette to “leave me alone, leave me alone, I don’t want to wear a gown and be a lady!”; Garderobe comes after, dressed in a new creation of hers, crying out that la princessa must submit to being royal if that was what was required. Adam sighs, and beats back his hair from his face, and sits on the only clean set of stairs in the palace with his head between his hands.

After a moment, he realizes someone is sitting next to him.

“You’re not running frantic,” he says.

“No, I’m not,” says the woman. “But I see that everyone else is.”

“State dinners are such a terrible affair,” groans Adam. “Everyone has to put on a mask, and restate their identity ten fold. Oh, I’m an Englishman! I’m a Frenchman! I’m a king, you’re a lady, you’re a gentleman, who outranks who, what is the history between nations; there’s such a fraud-filled game to play, where everyone has to be his most decided self—or how he decides to be seen—in front of everyone else.”

“And that doesn’t suit you, face-changing one?”

Adam is too exhausted to notice the shift in her voice. “When I was a monster, I was still me, and I was free to change. In front of that assembly, with all the history and petty feuds, I feel I must be one unchanging character, with my whole self hanging in the balance. I’m the Prince, and Belle’s the Princess, and we’re not allowed to be anything else.”

“Such a weight for you to bear,” says the woman, laying a consoling hand upon his knee. “To wear history on your sleeve for all to see! To feel so confined to one self—”

“Yes, yes,” says Adam, “and—what’s that you’re doing with your hand?”

Gold light pulses from the woman’s hand, rippling against his blue-silk leg in concentric rings like the surface of a pond disturbed by a dropped stone. He feels sunlight blinding him, and sees the green and blue of reflected river-plants beating against his eyes, and the sound of the water rushing in his ears.

“Be blind if you would like,” says the woman, her hand very hot against him. “Be free, if you would like.”

The sunshine grows too hot. The pond grows cold. Adam feels the beat of the stone dropping, dropping down—and drops down too, sunshine clouding both his eyes.

Chandeliers are the first thing that swan into their view. Then the dazzling ceiling, all painted cloud and sky; and then the brooms, abandoned, and the leaking mops, and the marble steps still soaked with soap-suds.

The room they’re in is sparklingly clean: as bright and airy as they feel.

They sit up. They feel their knees and bones. All right; that’s all right. They stand, and slip, and stand again. Water glitters on the floor. The reflection in the mirror—someone unknown, and dressed in blue silk, and still looking dazzled by the sun—feels the smooth expanse of the floor, as if looking for some particular stone sitting in a river that nobody can see.

It takes them a while to reckon they ought to be doing something.

“I’m sure I had something to do,” they murmur, but that’s been taken away, so they toddle off to see if somebody else has an idea.

They look in the mirror, and see the unfamiliar face again, and carry on.

More unfamiliar faces stare out of mirrors, and also windows, and sometimes doors. They find an unfamiliar face in one of the rooms, ribbon curling through her hair, looking in a mirror.

“Is it supposed to do that?” she asks.

“The ribbon? I suppose so.”

“No, the face. Why does the eyebrow quirk up like that? Who put a pinch between those brows?” She looks at him suddenly. “Do you know what you look like?”

“No, not really,” they admit.

“Now that’s strange. Because there are mirrors all over this place, and you’re in it.”

“I’m sure I knew once,” they protest. “But I lost my name on my way to finding a face, so I thought I should look for one before the other.”

“A sensible plan. Well, I can tell you part of it: that you’re good-looking; and a man; and that you have nice hair, and good teeth; and that you’re horribly under-dressed.”

“Me? Underdressed?” He points to his white shirt, his clean blue silk breeches, so clean they still have soap suds from the stair on them. “But you’re dressed in only a petticoat, and a white shift, with a ribbon falling out of your hair!”

“Ah, but I’m sure I’m meant to look that way,” she says. “Let’s stick together, us two. I think we should get along.”

They haven’t ventured far before they find other faces, though no other names. Everyone seems to have dropped one—but instead of dropping the usual ones, such as the names of famous persons, or mutual acquaintances, or other names that could afford to be lost, everyone had dropped their own and let it roll away across the floor.

“There must be a proper order to this,” insists one of them. Wombat, thinks another, and has nowhere to put the thought. “We should all line up and present, and that would make things easier.”

“Would it?” says a second, picking up a dropped napkin and gently rubbing the other’s buttons to a shine with it. “I don’t know about you, stranger, but I think we should all say at once who we might be, and drop right into it. C'est vrai, non?”

“Don’t speak German, it doesn’t help matters.” But the wombat pats his hand indulgently, and turns to survey the assembled crowd of faces. “I say we work from the known, and then work to the point this fine, finely-satined gentleman suggests. We know we are in a palace; therefore, someone must be King or Queen.”

“It must be me, then,” says one. “I am dressed fine, as regal as la princessa; my gown is twice your size, and my hair towers over this little man with the blue silk breeches!”

“Very well.” He nods; she nods; they nod. Progress has been made. The grand lady, her hands full with a confused-looking dog, bows graciously and takes a dining room table as her throne. The wombat nods. “And if there is a Queen, there must be servants, staff. Surely that is the rest of us.”

“I wish I could remember what I did,” cries the girl, her fingers lacing through the blue-silk boy’s.

“There are hints in your dress,” says another, white feathers drifting from her exquisite hair. “You have ribbons in your hand; you are dressed simply, like a maid. Perhaps you are the lady’s maid!”

“Then I must be the footman,” says the blue-silk boy, “because we belong together. And I have soap on my clothes—so I must have been cleaning the stairs.”

“And all this mess,” says the wombat—picking up a mess of napkins, and depositing them in his lanky companion’s hands to take care of (for he really looked the sort to understand such things)—"must be caused by a grand affair. A dinner, perhaps! A ceremony!“

“For the Diplomat from England,” reads the girl with the feathered wig, looking at the place setting. “For the Diplomat of France. For the Diplomat of Germany.”

“Why, that must be us!” cries the lanky one. “We have noticed already that I speak German—trés bien, I accept—and you speak French so well, my newest friend, you must be the diplomat from here.”

“I speak with a slight accent, true,” admits the wombat, “but I firmly believe I have always had a distinct liking for the French character, if I could only remember it. And that, my dear, leaves you to be the English ambassador.”

“How neatly we are seated together!” The Diplomat from the Emerald Isle offers her hand to Germany. “I’m sure we shall be great friends, in time.”

“In time!” The wombat starts. (He knows it isn’t truly French to be so tense, but sometimes he likes to break the expectation.) “That reminds me—though I don’t know why—this dinner of state likely begins soon, if the state of this table has anything to say about it. What a tremendous job you have done with those napkins, my Saxon friend.”

“Thank you! I don’t remember how, but I believe a dear friend of mine may have taught me how to do them. They look good, do they not? Servants, what do you think?”

“I don’t look as though I know napkins,” says the blue-silk footman, glancing uncertainly at his face in the mirror, “but I’m sure they’re fine, if you agree. Mistress Maid? Miss Ribbon? Beauty? Should we prepare ourselves in the kitchens?”

“I may have lost my name,” says the maid, the ribbon curling in her hair, “but at least I’ve picked up you. Let’s go, Vincente—or Charming—or Adam, or Eve, or whatever your name might be. At least I’ve got you straight.”

The dinner goes off without a hitch. Nobody from the palace remembers what they are supposed to do; if there is etiquette to these dinners, it must be guessed at. The lady in charge—the regal lady with the great gown—guesses at names, and alliances, and who should speak to whom; and the maid and the footman, unsure of due process, indulge each guest with the same broad smile and lack of notice for rank. The diplomats themselves are surprised to find new faces in the crowd; an enchanting emissary from England—a German native who speaks such good French he heals the wounds of offended Belgians, who had nearly quarreled their way with the previous diplomat into a war—a French chancellor whose fastidiousness wins over representatives long tired of the usual laissez-faire attitude of the French embassy. They talk, and skip over parts they can’t remember, and laugh and toast and sign treaties they can’t recall the advantages of; and the servants smile, and sip tea in the back—there is an awful lot of tea at this dinner, for the cook sends more and more, and the housekeeper (a man in black-checked pants, wearing a chef’s hat for a joke) can’t bear to turn her down—and they have a jolly good time, cleaning the plates and meeting each other and finding, in the other’s half-blank mind, things strikingly like their own.

The guests depart. The table rests, a mess, napkins on the floor, wine cups spilled sideways. Her highness picks up her pup and retires to the drawing room, to rest in her chair and toast her toes by the fire. The servants cuddle on the stairs, forgetting their beds, or where those beds ought to be, and falling asleep against the marble. The diplomats, lingering long over their wine, settle for sleep against crushed table linens.

As he breathes in the scent of the maid’s sweet, soap-stained hair on the palace steps, the boy thinks he hears water rushing in his ears.

He wakes, she wakes, they wake. Adam knows where he is. Belle takes a minute—”why are we on the back kitchen stairs?”—then remembers, and remembers, and gasps until her eyebrows pinch. There’s a loud crash from the dining room, and the frantic barking of Frou-Frou—the dog, the dog, of course Frou-Frou is the name of the dog—and Madame de Garderobe having a laugh in Adam’s best chair.

“Did it go horribly?!” Adam demands, skidding into the dining room. Plumette is half-crying from laughter into Lumiere’s cravat. Lumiere is using Cogsworth’s handkerchief to wipe away his own merry tears.

“We’ve probably ruined everything,” Belle cries. “That was an important dinner! We were supposed to sort out the treaty between Portugal and Rome—and, oh no, we were supposed to not put Spain near Austria—and, oh, I know we put the Turkish diplomat by the Polish, and you’re never supposed to do that—”

Cogsworth doesn’t hear a word. While they all slept, the messenger stopped by, and dropped note after note after note across the dining table of the sleeping palace; letters from across Europe, from every invited diplomat. He reads them with widened eyes.

“I don’t believe it,” he says at last, “I won’t believe it! After all my planning, all my calculating—this diplomat says they were delighted, this one that they’ve never had a better time. Poland is half in love with Turkey, after the introduction supplied last night by ‘the Queen in the grand dress’—what Queen?; and Spain tells me they’re so glad they had a chance to finally work things out with Austria, thanks to the comfort of the tea we supplied—what tea?! And here’s the Portuguese, about to become trading partners and more, and write a better treaty with Rome, modeling it on that drafted by the English emissary from last night! What are they talking about, the English ambassador wasn’t supposed to be there last night, he wrote to tell us he was ill— can’t fathom it! After all my planning, a bunch of amnesiatic idiots resolved it all!”

“And resolved more than that,” says Lumiere. “You finally admitted my napkin display was all right.”

“And you admitted I’m the friend who taught you to do them.”

“I admitted so from the first!”

“How dare you! I remember it quite clearly, and you never mentioned it.”

“Did I mention you forget many things, even when you’re not enchanted to?”

“You sputtering gaslamp, I’ll beg you to remember—”

Adam pulls Belle aside. “I’m glad I’ve got your name back,” he says, “though I wasn’t too far off with Beauty.”

“And I’m glad I know your face again,” says Belle. “I really do miss it when I’m not sure what it looks like.”

“Though it wasn’t too bad to not be ourselves, was it, and find out we’re much more than Prince and Princess?”

“Didn’t you know? We’ve always been.” Belle takes the ribbon from her hair, and uses it to tie up Adam’s messy ends. “It was a break to be someone else for a bit, but I’m glad you’re still Adam.”

“Me too,” he says. “Or at least until the next state dinner.”

[welovekpopscenarios]

Confessions (Jimin x Reader)

Admin: Candi Request: “One night stand with bad boy jimin (smokes drinks etc) and you to fall in love after 😉😉 – anon” Fandom: BTS Member/reader: Jimin x Reader Genre/warning(s): smut, drug use (weed), stripping, fluff Words: 3.3k Authors note: This was so enjoyable to write for some reason idk. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

           “Strip for me.” Jimin said as he sat in the chair intently watching you while smoking a blunt. You slowly took off your clothes while swaying your hips to the music Jimin put on. One night stands weren’t your thing but Jimin persuaded you into going back to his house tonight and you knew you were going to end up in his bed. He was the local bad boy, he could have any girl he wanted and you were his choice for tonight. You knew it was stupid of you but you couldn’t resist him. He looked so good in college today, black ripped jeans, military boots, white t-shirt with rips on it and a leather jacket. His smile always got you, the way he carried himself, he was the walking definition of sex appeal so, why not have some fun and sleep with the bad boy of the college?

           You were putting on a show for him, there was no awkwardness and you didn’t feel uncomfortable, you went hard. His room was lit up with red lights, setting the perfect atmosphere for you. He sat on a black chair in the middle of his room, his legs spread, one leg stretched out while the other rested on the leg of the chair, his arm hanging down the back of the chair while the other held his blunt. You were completely naked aside from still having panties on. You walk over to him while you squeeze your breasts, his eyes scanning your whole body. You sit on his lap and rest your hands on his shoulders, your lips lingering over his neck, your hips rolling to the sound of the music. You took the blunt from his hand and smoked it yourself, you were astonished at your reckless behavior but it felt right.

           Jimin was extremely good at controlling himself, he didn’t touch you while you were giving him a lap dance, he didn’t even get hard. It worried you but you remembered he probably has sex with twenty different people in one week so you realized he can easily contain himself. You finally got the courage to kiss him, your hands slipped under his t-shirt, feeling his defined abs. The contact made him sit up and put his hands on you, his hands wrapping around your waist bringing you closer to him. His hands were all over you and you enjoyed every second of it.

           You stood up and pulled him by his collar, standing him up and you quickly pushed him to the bed and got on his lap. He moved the material of the panties off to the side so he could feel you. His touch sending goosebumps all over your body. Your lips pressed together, his tongue swiftly making its way into your mouth. He threw his jacket on the floor next to his bed and his t-shirt followed. He lied down and you wasted no time in kissing his chest. Your tongue moved from his chest to his abs, your mouth watering and leaving a trail of wetness from his chest to his abs.

           Once you were at his jeans you undid his belt and put it next to him, your mouth so eager to put his length in your mouth that you felt yourself salivate. After you were finally able to take his jean off all that was left was the boxers. You teased him through the fabric and that’s when he finally started to lose control, his dick grew bigger in your hand and Jimins breath got much more intense, it eventually started sounding like moans and growls. While rubbing his growing dick you stuck your tongue out and licked all the way up his length through the fabric, that was Jimins breaking point, he quickly pulled down his boxers and tangled his fingers into your hair. You wrapped your fingers around his member and began to pump. Eventually, you put your wet tongue on his tip and sucked him. The sensation made Jimin moan and you felt so good about yourself.

           You finally put his whole dick in your mouth and his fist tightened in your hair. Your mouth over his dick while your hand was on his balls, lightly massaging them. You took your time with him, your core was burning and your panties were soaking but you wanted to enjoy him for as long as possible, you knew this was a one night stand and nothing else would happen. The moves were light and slow, making him way more sensitive.

           “Let’s see if I look as good between your legs because you look hella good between mine.” Jimins voice was raspy, the sound of the sentence stirred up a storm in your stomach, your core was burning and the thought of his lips coming in contact with your slit made you feel lightheaded. Jimin got up and flipped you onto your back, his tongue entered your mouth once again. As he was kissing you his hand squeezed your breasts and then made its way to your panties. His middle finger pressed into you, he moved it from your entrance to your clit, getting your juices to spread all over your folds. He followed your steps and lowered his kisses from your mouth to your chest then your stomach until he was finally facing your pussy.

           Ultimately, he ripped your panties off and pressed his mouth into you, he didn’t ease you into it, he was hungry for you and all he wanted to do was taste you. He sucked your clit and ate you out, no one ever ate you out so well. His tongue made perfect circles around your folds, he added two fingers to the mix and pumped them inside you, pressing into your gspot. The combination of his wet tongue on your clit and the two fingers pumping inside you made you climax very fast, you were surprised that you didn’t last but it felt so good and the sight of him between your legs sent you over the edge as well.

           “Already done babygirl? Better recover fast because we’re not done yet.” His eyes met yours and you got excited over his remark. He reached over to his drawer and pulled out a condom, he slipped it on so fast you didn’t even notice. Before he enters you, he looks at you for reassurance, you bite your lip and give him a nod. He spreads your legs and rubs himself all over you to cover the condom in your juices for an easier entry. It finally happens, his dick is finally entering you, you wanted it so bad for so long. He was gentle, making sure you were adjusting well to him but it seemed like he was the one having a problem adjusting to you.

           “You’re so fucking tight, oh my god, this feels so good.” He said and he wasn’t even fully in you, probably one third of the way. His moans got extremely loud and his eyes were shut tightly. This felt amazing, the bad boy wasn’t able to handle how good you felt, it definitely boosted your ego. Once he was finally all the way inside you he started moving in and out.

           “I’m not going to last long with you.” His breath heavy on your neck. You smirk to yourself and cross your ankles on his back. His dick felt so good inside you, his size was perfect and every stroke felt delectable. You licked his neck and nibbled on his ear, you could see the sweat starting to form on his body, with every push his abs became more defined. His muscly arms were starting to shake, he was growing even more inside you. The pleasure from the strokes was becoming more powerful, his forehead was on yours and his breath was warm on your mouth. He went faster and as he did his moans became more frequent, you whined his name and held him closer, it was physically impossible for two people to be closer than you and Jimin at the moment. Both of your bodies started to tense up, every push felt more intense and you both finally released. Jimin practically screamed and his name involuntarily left your mouth.

           He collapsed next to you and threw the condom into the bin next to the bed. You were both out of breath so you let yourselves rest. Once you regained your breath you started to dress and pack up.

           “Where are you going?” Jimin asks, sounding quite confused.

           “Oh, I was going to get a cab home. You’re probably busy with something I don’t want to bother you.” You felt quite awkward for some reason, you didn’t want to interrupt him with his busy life and you didn’t feel like staying longer, the cuddles after sex wasn’t how you’d want this night to end, it felt forced and he probably didn’t want you to stay anyway.

           “It’s 1am, what am I going to be busy with?”

           “I don’t know, it’s you! You’re busy all the time.”

           “You might think that but it’s not entirely true.”

           “Oh?”

           “Please stay, I want you to stay.”

           The butterflies in your stomach made you nauseous. You decided to stay anyway, 1am wasn’t exactly the safest time to go out and look for a cab. You sat on his bed and he got up and gave you one of his t-shirts to sleep in, it was nice and baggy and made you feel safe, it smelled like him too.

           “I know everyone has their own opinion about me and what I do but they’re all wrong.” Jimin began to explain. Your attention was fully on him, it felt like he was opening up to you and you didn’t understand why, what made you so special?

           “My exterior looks way different than who I really am. I mean, yeah, I do smoke, I drink but who doesn’t? I dress a certain way but everyone has their own sense of style, right?”

           “Jimin I’m sorry if this comes across as rude but why are you telling me this? I do want to hear what you have to say but I’m not really sure if this is something you say to everyone or?”

           “You might be under the impression I sleep with a lot of people but I don’t. Girls are always interested in me but I’m not interested in them. Everyone thinks I’m a badass who just disrespects everything around him, I know that that’s my reputation. Sure, when I go out I tend to get crazy but I have a lot of respect for a lot of people.”

           “Then why are you interested in me?” You ignore everything else he said and focus solely on that part, once you heard him say he isn’t interested in the girls that fall to his feet you wondered why the interest in you.

           “You don’t act like they do, you always treat me like a human. I know we’re not extremely close but whenever you see me you just say hi, you don’t giggle and turn to your friends to say how I made eye contact with you. You help me if I need it in class and you don’t try to seduce me.”      

           “Well I mean, we did just have sex.”

           “True but it was me who asked you, I’m the one interested.”

           “I am too though.”

           “Yeah but if I never initiated it, you never would have tried to persuade me and that’s what I like about you. You’re just different.”      

           “I just don’t see why people would treat you that way. You’re cool and all and you carry yourself a certain way but everyone can be cool if you get to know them. As humans we judge though, it’s in our nature to judge the exterior because we’re lazy, it’s too much work these days getting to know the real person.”        

           You continued to rant about how disgusting it is that people don’t try to get to know Jimin and just assume how he is. You were both on his bed, you were lying down while he was sitting up, his hand brushed off you from time to time and you knew it was on purpose. After a while of innocent touches he put his hand on your thigh as you were talking and delicately rubbed it. You felt such a strong connection with him you felt yourself fall for him. You weren’t friends, you were just acquaintances, you helped him in college and you’d see each other on nights out and make small talk but right now, it felt like you were more than that, he opened up to you completely about how he felt and how people treated him.

           The next day you both woke up quite late but still made it into college. You both got out of his car and all eyes were on you. Jimin never showed up to college with a girl. As you walked down the corridor everyone was whispering, you felt so vulnerable. His hand was over your shoulder and you looked like a couple which didn’t feel right. He was extremely popular and you were just an average student.

           When you got to class he sat next to you, every student was talking about you and some even dared to sneak pictures of how close Jimin was to you. It was definitely being sent around to people. You never had this much attention from one person, nevermind the whole college. You started wondering if Jimin wants more than just sex, he never was this close to you and he was showing you off to all of his friends, it made you feel good though, you felt like you were important to him. Once your class was dismissed you decided to meet up with your friends but Jimin followed you.

           “Can I just meet up with my friend alone? I’m really liking your company but I need to tell her what happened and I’d feel quite awkward saying that you were ramming your cock inside me, in front of her while you’re next to me.” You smiled and him innocently and his mouth parted at what you just said, he got shy and nodded his head. You knew what you just said was quite out of character but it was the only way to actually get him to agree to let you have some time to yourself.

           You hurried to the canteen, basically ran, and your friend stood up and ran towards you the second she saw you enter the canteen.        

           “Y/N what the fuck happened?”

           “What do you mean?”            “Are you and Jimin together? Everyone is talking about it!!!” She was practically screaming at you. You both walked to the seat as every eye in the canteen followed you.

           “Okay this isn’t going to work, we need a more private place.” You said to her and you quickly left. Thankfully she had a car so you ended up evacuating to it.

           “Tell me everything Y/N this is huge! I didn’t even think you were that interested in him.”

           “That’s the thing! I wasn’t but I always appreciated his looks.” You began to explain how you were out and met up with Jimin and things just escalated. You told her every detail and each minute her eyes widened. She was shocked at what she heard, from the stripping to the ex to the confessions after. After a while, you were finally done telling her every detail and silence filled the car.

           “Can you please say something?” You plead.

           “First off, wow I’m so proud of you, you got laid. Second off, you got laid and it was Jimin. Third off, do you like him?”

           “It sounds stupid because we aren’t that close but after last night I feel so connected to him and today he hasn’t let go of me once, I was barely able to make it without him to you because he started walking with me towards the canteen.”

           “So, you like him.”

           “Yes.”

           Your friend suddenly burst with excitement, you weren’t expecting that reaction at all form her, to be quite honest, you didn’t know what you were expecting but definitely not that. She started saying how cute that is and how he’s the bad boy but he’s falling in love with an average student and how romantic and cliché it is. You rolled your eyes at her and asked for advice.

           “I don’t think you should care what anybody says. This would be huge news obviously seeing as Jimin is never seen with a girl that way and people would talk about it for ages and I bet 99.9% of the girls in college would hate you but who gives a shit?”

           “99.9%? I’m pretty sure it would be 100%.”

           “No, I’m that .1% that wouldn’t and I’d still love you, support you and love the both of you.”      

           “That’s cute.” You smiled at her. You finished your lunch in her car and both continued to talk about last night and how much you like Jimin.

           You walked to your next class, Jimin was standing around with his friends and you walked past him, you weren’t used to the fact that you were showing him attention now. He grabbed your wrist and stopped you from walking away.

           “Did you chat to your friend?” He smiled at you.

           “Yeah, she was really nice about everything.” You blushed.

           “I’m glad.”

           His arm over your shoulder once again. The group started becoming smaller as everyone was going back to class. Jimin said bye to his friends and you started walking to your class together. On the way, you suddenly felt a push against your back and you turned around to see three girls around Jimin. They were asking him a million questions and asking for help after college. He looked at you and pouted, you laughed and walked towards him, you found his hand between the girls and pulled him away.

           “Thank you.” He plants a soft kiss on your cheek. You feel yourself blush and you smile to yourself. For the rest of the day you continued to avoid eye contact with everyone. Once your classes were over you told Jimin you have to go home to study and you made up some lame excuse to just be able to go home and be alone. He offered you a lift but you didn’t take it, you needed some air to clear your mind.

           At home, you went straight to your bed, your mind racing. You suddenly felt so much emotions that you haven’t felt towards Jimin before. You knew he was falling for you too because of how he acted with you. He wasn’t scared to show you off to his friends and he didn’t care what anyone had to say. You couldn’t help but squeal at the thought of you two together, you were so into him and you were the only person that knew how he really is, he told you everything about him and you didn’t have much to say about yourself because you weren’t that exciting but you told him everything anyway.

           It’s crazy how much one night can change everything, there was no expectations of Jimin ever liking you but to your surprise he was interested in you for a while. It felt like a new chapter was beginning and you couldn’t wait to see how it turns out.

[kyakykreativitylover]

McGrawHamilton Uni AU

(Part 1.5 AKA The interlude)

James wakes up to the opening strains from “He’s a pirate.” He groggily lifts his head from the pillow and answers the phone. 

“Hi dad.” He croaks into the phone. “How was your first day at uni.” His father asks jovially. (He feels bad. He only called once yesterday to let him know that he had gotten to Manchester but hadn’t said anything since). “I’m sorry da-”

His father interupts him quickly. “Listen lad, I remember my first few days of independence. My mum heard nought from me for three weeks.” Hal then laughs. James smiles at that, he then rubs the nape of his before talking. “Yeah, the first day was okay. My flat mates are alright and the halls are in a great location. I’m like 3 minutes from Lidl.” Hal hums. “Anything else?” James starts. (”How the fuck did he read me, I didn’t say shit. What in the hell”). “Uh, yeah. We’re having this guy over for tea tonight and I don’t know what to think.” Hal hummed again. “I mean he’s really attractive, but I also don’t know what to think of him or what he thinks of me. Is he even attracted to me??.” James shifts in his bed as he thinks about Thomas and everything that happened last night (which was nothing). “Can I offer some advice?” Hal asks gently. James nods and then realises his dad can’t see him. “I’ll take the silence as a yes.” His dad says. James outright laughs at that. “Enjoy yourself James.” James stops laughing. “I know how hard it was for you growing up here. There are exactly three openly gay and bisexual boys in this village and I know you wouldn’t touch any of them with a 50 foot pole, and that says nothing about all the teasing that went your way. All the jokes and ridicule at your expense.” James purses his lips and then opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get a word out Hal interupts. “I mean it James Flint McGraw. Enjoy yourself. Live, laugh, get too drunk and stumble home at 8 in the morning.” James starts laughing again. “Just enjoy yourself.” James smiles softly. “I will dad.”

“Now go socialise before your flatmates start thinking you’re an antisocial ass.” James smirks. “You should also go and make sure Billy is fed before he decides to eat you.” He sasses back. “Your brother would rather die than eat me.” Hal quips back. “TOO MUCH FAT.” James and Hal say in unison laughing. “Speak of the devil.” Hal says. “Hold on a sec James, Billy is going to talk to you.” There is quiet for a beat.

“Hi James.” Billy says. “It’s Billy.”

“Who the fuck is Billy?!” James says in a deadpan voice.

“Fuck you Jamie.”

“I thought we were never to speak of that again.” James hisses down the line.

“We don’t know each other, so how did we make that agreement?” Billy says in a solemn voice.

“Fuck you Billy.”

“Now, now boys.” Hal says somewhere in the background.

“Anyway, good luck at uni bro. I hope you don’t fail too badly.”

“Thanks Billy, good luck with high school.”

James rubs his face after the call and thinks about how tired he still is. He blacks out again. 

Part 2. (The continuation of the main plot?? Who am I lying to, there’s no plot. Think of this as a slice of life anime- it’s all about characters and the stuff that happens to them).

He wakes up to the smell of oatmeal,eggs and bacon frying and strong coffee. He leaves his room and goes next door into the common room.

Madi is sitting on the couch eating oatmeal. Max is holding a copper and glass cafetiere and pouring the rest of the coffee into a white mug. Miranda is plating up the eggs and bacon and Vane is eating an apple. (”Wow, how domestic, I didn’t anticipate this either, I thought it was every person for themselves, but I guess I was wrong.”) Vane sees him, grins and chucks the apple core at his head. “Fuck you Vane.” He picks the core up and tries to thrown it into the bin. “Boys.” Miranda says sternly before actually putting the core into the bin. Vane laughs. “I’m heading out for a smoke. Anyone coming with?” Max gets up. “I’m game.” She says with a smile on her face. “Can you make me more coffee when we get back?” She asks Vane. Vane nods as he grabs a coat and his keys.

James watches them leave. “I missed something.” He tells Madi and Miranda. “Yup.” Madi says. “Charles Vane bought coffee grounds and a cafetiere, Max did not.” Madi tells him before going into the kitchenette and putting her bowl in the sink. Miranda gets her toast out of the toaster and digs into her eggs and bacon. “I was starving.” She says to James who was staring at her demolishing half the plate. “No please you don’t have to explain yourself.” James says quickly. “I’m just trying to think where I’ll get food, I haven’t done any shopping.” Madi looks at him for a second. She then goes to a cupboard and removes an oatmeal cup. “Here, help yourself.” She says casually. (”Great I’m already magically the charity case person. Shit!” James thinks as he takes the offered oatmeal.) “James.” James turn to look at Miranda. “We’ll go shopping in like an hour when the shops open. You’ll buy your stuff then.” Madi smiles at him. “We’re flat mates. We’ll probably help each other a lot over the course of the year.” She says, “So don’t feel bad for needing help right now.” (“How are they reading my mind right now?!?!?!?”) She then chuckles “Also, it’ OATMEAL, not a gold bar. Stop being awkward.” He huffs a small laugh before putting the oatmeal cup with water into the microwave.

Max and Charles return. Charles boils the kettle and grabs the cafetiere and cleans it out. Max smiles at them. “We really need to shopping.” She says. “I need to get actual food.” Madi and James make eye contact and Miranda says, “Lidl, Asda and Tesco all open at 10.30 on Sunday, which is in an hour. We’ll all go then.” Miranda then gets up. “Excuse me I need to do a bit more unpacking.” She goes into her cupboard and removes a tray of eggs. “Help yourselves. Unfortunately, I ate all the bacon though.” She then smiles at all of them before leaving. The kettle finishes boiling with a click. “I’ll finish that.” Max tells Charles who had begun to spoon grounds into the cafetiere. Charles leaves her to make her coffee and goes into a cupboard where he removes a loaf of bread. “Anybody want toast with their eggs?” James looks up at Charles before speaking. “Yeah.” He says softly. “I can make everyone their eggs if they want.”  “Dude,relax okay.” Charles tells him. “You don’t need to be this awkward.” Madi huffs out a laugh. “I already told him that.” Max looks at him for a bit. “I like my eggs over easy.” James smiles at her gratefully. Max then turns to Charles. “He’s offering to cook eggs once, not to clean your room and do the laundry, YOU relax.” Charles raises his hands. “Fair dos.” Charles then says to James. “Sunny side up.” James grabs a pan and begins to cook. “Madi?” He asks her. “No, I’m allergic to eggs.” She then goes for the loaf of bread. “But I’m having some of the bread.” 

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

Later in the afternoon after they get back from doing a TON of shopping and have arranged who’ll have which cupboard and which fridge shelf, Jack returns with his girlfriend. “Anne meet everyone. Everyone meet Anne.” “Hi Anne.” Max says with what was fast become her trademark charming smile. Anne then ‘bro-hugs’ Charles. “Hi.” She says to the room. “Oh yeah, Jack, your the second shelf in the first fridge and your cupboard is under the breakfast bar.” Charles informs him. “Cool.” Jack says. “I’ll go shopping in a bit.” He says. “Also Anne’s staying in the night.” Charles just smiles. “Great, she can join us for dinner. My friend Thomas is coming over.” Miranda says. Anne, Jack and Charles all look at each other. “Cool.” Charles says for all of them. “Is it gonna be a party?” Charles asks. “I hope not, I have my course meeting tomorrow morning at 9.” Miranda responds. “Oh come on, we’re freshers.” Charles pouts. “Drink yes, get totally smashed, no.” Miranda says. “What ever mom.” Charles tells her. Miranda just shakes her head. “I’m cool with a chill evening.” James says. (”That’s right, I meet my supervisor tomorrow at 10. Better to be sober and well rested, I don’t want them to hate me before I’ve even begun the year.”) “Fine.” Charles says. “Also you two can go.” He tells Jack and Anne. They then both go to Jacks room. Vane rolls his eyes. “Love birds.” He tells every one. “They’ve been together since the first year of high school.”

“Cute.” Max says.

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

Miranda gets a text and raises an eyebrow. “Thomas’ll be here in an hour.”

“Okay.” James says sinking further into the couch.They (James, Max, Madi, Charles, Miranda, Jack and Anne) are all watching a marathon of “The Chase.”

There’s a beat of silence. Madi finally gets up and turns off the TV. “What the fuck?!?!” James and Vane say.

“Our common room looks like a ring of Hell.” 

Sure enough, there’s liquor bottles and stains every where, a pile of take away boxes and a mountain of washing up that looked like Everest. Also somehow there are clothes on the floor.

“Fine.” Vane said. 

He grabs bin liner and begins to stuff take away cartons into the bag. Vane then separates out the trash to recyclables and non recyclables. Flint looks at the overflowing garbage bin and decides to take the already existing garbage out. Max beats him to it, though. He then decides to tackle the washing up. Miranda has already plugged the hoover into the wall and has begun to hoover. Madi starts to organise the common room.  Jack goes to help with the washing up and Anne starts wiping surfaces. Max returns and puts the washing up away as soon as it’s done. Miranda then mops the floor. In half an hour their common room is spotless. They’re also filthy.

They all retreat to their respective bedrooms to have showers and get dressed for the dinner.

A/N: Here’s parts 1.5 and 2. Next up, the dinner with Thomas. Also for those who might be wondering. Most student accommodation in the UK is called “Halls” and they are mostly self catered (i.e. you need to cook for yourself) and you don’t really have a roommate, you have flat mates. Also,again this is based on my experiences in Uni. Not all flats have a great synergy, but some do. I decided that the characters would be good friends and support each other even though they are practically strangers. (The breakfast thing happened to me in my third halls, I just got offered a cereal bar and some eggs on toast with baked beans from two different people so yeah, that happened).