#opening my notifs and seeing that made me CACKLE

[clancysstole]

Glad to know someone else appreciates EyeshadowJosh as much as I do. @thepaladinstrait

[kammazi]

★ katsuki and yourself weren’t big drinkers. sure after you two had graduated, you had gone to a few parties here and there but you were never a fan of the whole spinning dizzy feeling that alcohol brought with it, especially since you two are heroes. patrolling while hungover under the heat of the hot summer sun was dreadful.

so when you get a call from katsuki one evening while you were on patrol saying how kirishimas and the rest of the guys were going out for a few, who were you to say no? even though you knew the invitation for yourself always stood, katsuki needed some time for himself and by the time you would get off patrol it would already be past midnight.

so after exchanging some ‘i love you’s’, you disconnected the call and got back to whatever strolling you were doing.

and as the night went on you got more and more notifications that buzzed in your back pocket from who you assumed was your boyfriend. you eventually had a quick break and chugged an energy drink while fishing for your phone.

you let out a snort of laughter and looked around to make sure no one heard you before looking back down at your screen. there you saw multiple pictures took by denki of him standing on what you assumed was a stool while taking 0.5 picture’s of katsuki. what made you laugh even more was his flushed face and droopy eyes that held no fight in them as he stood there with his hands by his sides.

you could tell that he had drank quite a bit and as your break came to an end you had a short two hours left of your shift before you were able to finally get home and most likely take care of your said boyfriend.

and you were correct because as soon as you even such as stepped in through the doors of your shared apartment your phone once again started buzzing, this time it was a call.

“hello?” there was a shuffling noise before shouting hit your eardrums along with the music that blasted in the background.

“HEYY LOOK, ARE YOU-” you grimaced as you hear a glass breaking alongside some yelling. “huh? hello?”

the phone was picked back up. “THIS IS KIRISHIMA, KATSUKI IS KINDA REALLY DRUNK AND-” you then heard a whooshing sound and another crash. you stood there looking at your phone and then brining it close to your ear again. “uhh..kiri..shima?”

you heard the phone being picked up and panting into the microphone. “SORRY I JUST LAUNCHED MY PHONE HALFWAY ACROSS THE DANCE FLOOR AND IT HIT SOMEONE IN THE FACE.” you had to physically distance yourself from the phone before answering.

“kiri you don’t have to yell i can hear you!” you felt as if it was a screaming competition at that point. you heard a cackle before kirishimas finally got to the point.

“sorry, sorry! it’s just that bakubro got hella drunk and he’s kinda unmovable right now. he keeps saying your name and won’t really listen to anyone, would it be alright if you could come and pick him up?”

you were already picking up your keys and sliding on your shoes. “of course, be there in five.”

and so here you were pulling into the parking spot outside of the front doors of the building.

as you stepped in, you already felt exhaustion hitting you as you strolled around to try and find your boyfriend and those goons.

and then you saw him, sitting in a corner seat, with a cute sleepy look on his face, arms still crossed as always. kneeling in front of him, you saw denki, sero and kiri sitting across as they helped gather his stuff. you placed a palm against his face and patted his knee with the other.

“kats, love?” he groaned and slightly opened his eyes. “hey i’m gonna take you home okay?” and then suddenly, he moves his face away from your hand as his face held something like a mix of disgust and offence.

“get those damn hands away from me. i’ve a girlfriend.” although his speech was slurred you blinked before letting out a chuckle as the guys behind you hollered and stumbled over eachother.

you raised a brow, amused to see him act that way. “oh really? sorry about that kats, i won’t do it again.” his face whipped around to face you as he grimaced again. “oi. don’t call me that. only she can and you ain’t her.. so back off...” his sentence held no malicious intent as his head slowly tipped back. “where is she. i miss her.”

kirishima then came up next to you and patted his back. “bro shes right here! see?” in response to his words, katsuki raised his head and squinted at you for a while before slowly smiling. “heyy it’s my girlfriend.” immediately his head landed on your shoulder. he started babbling as he wrapped his arms around your frame, almost knocking you to the floor from the sudden weight. in the meantime, you glanced at his red headed friend.

“i’m sorry how much did he drink?” in response he scratched the back of his neck before holding up three fingers. “JESUS KIRI THREE BOTTLES?” kirishimas shook his head before cackling. “three drinks.”

now you knew your boyfriend was a lightweight but this was a tad too funny to you, not that you would ever tell him.. obviously.

with the help of kirishima, you managed to walk out a stumbling katsuki and just about sat him in the passenger seat before strapping him in as he babbled on about how much he missed you. sero and denki handed over his wallet and phone to you and you thanked them before saying your goodbyes as you sat behind the wheel.

on the drive back katsuki acted like he hadn’t seen you in months by the way he held your hand and kissed it every two seconds. with him telling you how much he loved you and how beautiful you where. in that moment you could not only feel somewhat giddy but be thankful for having this man in your life. no matter how tough he looked or acted, it really was true that he was a softy, drunk or not.

after arriving, getting him into bed wasn’t even a problem. he listened to your every word as he clung to you like a koala. you helped him brush his teeth on the toilet seat as you sat on his lap. even while drunk, his grip was still firm but gentle.

you then got him changed, him getting stuck in his t-shirt a few times, and you both finally climbed into bed. there was pure silence other that his quiet snores as he rested on your chest. as expected, he ended up passing out the second he wrapped his arms around you.

as you pressed a kiss on his forehead, you could once again feel the wave of exhaustion crashing over you as the warm pressure of katsuki’s body lulled you to sleep.

and in the morning katsuki awoke with not only a headache but also a lovely picture of his drunken state as a 0.5 printed and framed photo hanging in the living room as a forever reminder of that night.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

fever pitch (b.b) - prologue

soundtrack: mastermind - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: Bradley shoots his shot in public, but will he fumble when he meets you in person? warnings: language, drinking, meet cute notes: my first series in a while! this is shamelessly based on the epic Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce saga currently happening rn, and combine that with my innate love of football (the kicking kind, not the NFL kind) and... voila! I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks. Happy reading! <3 ✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

Soccer Sensation Bradley Bradshaw Fails To Shoot His Shoot With Y/N At Her Concert?

Arsenal captain Bradley Bradshaw may be among his club’s top scorers this season, but even he misses a chance in romance like the rest of us.

The 29-year-old athlete spoke about his missed opportunity with the multi-platinum songstress Y/N while speaking to his former teammate Héctor Bellerín on the latter’s podcast, “More Than A Footballer”, earlier this week.

When asked about any fun stuff he did last weekend, Bradshaw replied,

“I went to the Y/N concert at Wembley [Stadium]... it was awesome. It was pouring rain, but it was amazing. I don’t remember Wembley ever being that electric aside from, like, cup finals. She was sensational.”

Bellerín nods in agreement, having heard great things about the famed singer-songwriter’s live concerts.

Unprompted, the American midfielder then continued,

“If you’ve heard about the tour, there’s this tradition of trading friendship bracelets. And I actually made one with my number on it, hoping I could give it to her after the show…”

The Cockney-raised Spaniard cackled in surprise and teased him, “But she didn’t wanna see you, bruv? [That is] legend!”

“No hard feelings!” Bradshaw raised his hands in defense over the Zoom call. “She needed to dry off and get warm. Gotta make sure she stays healthy, protect those vocal cords. But yeah, I was a bit bummed out about it.”

Bellerín laughed and jokingly addressed the camera, “Y/N, if you’re watching, give my boy a chance, will you?”

Mononymous pop sensation Y/N is hot off of her Kaleidoscope North American Tour, which wrapped in September. Her six-show run at Wembley Stadium this November officially kicks off the European leg of her sold-out tour. 

Will they be the next pop royalty and conquer the stadiums with their own crafts, or will this fizzle out as this week’s viral anecdote? The ball is in your court, Y/N.

Y/N’s representatives have not responded for comment.

***

Your Miu Miu heels click and clack against the ground. The pavement gleams after the rain and glistens under the streetlights. Everywhere you look, your eyes hurt. Down, and you worry about slipping into a puddle and falling on your ass. Forward, and a million camera flashes are ready to give you an aneurysm.

All in the name of reporting your night off of work, performing live in front of 90,000 people in a stadium.

In other words, all in a day’s work.

There’s a moment of reprieve, when the silvery white blitzes disappear into the dim tangerine lighting of the lobby. The flight down the stairs is so dark, you’re seeing green. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but as soon as they do, the thumping bass line of some dance music hits your ears. Clashing perfumes doused on the dancing, dressed-up bodies that you have to weave through.

You are seriously regretting your girl friends’ invite to a night out. You could’ve just had them over to your hotel, open a bunch of red wine, and you would’ve still had a blast. But no. You had to say yes to going to the Cuckoo Club with Lacey, Amara, and Jo.

And this evening is making you feel quite cuckoo.

There’s champagne at your booth and you’re much too eager to take a glass and start a toast. “Cheers, bitches!” you yell over the music, clinking your glass against theirs before downing the whole thing in one go.

It’s nowhere near enough.

There’s not enough buzz to dull the assault to your senses—not even after the three glasses of wine at dinner earlier. Everything is still too loud, too bright, too crowded, too… much.

“Hey!” you nudge Amara, who is sitting right next to you. “Let’s do shots!”

She turns to you, eyes widening at the slightest. “I thought you wanted to take it easy tonight!” 

“Changed my mind,” you shrug, as you get up to the bar.

While you make your way through the crowd on the dance floor, Bradley Bradshaw looks up from his booth and does a double-take at the girl who just walked by. Even in a high-end club full of the well-dressed and well-heeled, people still get starstruck. And why wouldn’t they? You’re about as famous as an iPhone. 

His eyes widen and immediately whips out his phone to shoot a text to his oldest and most trusted friend Natasha Trace.

‘Dude, I’m in the club and Y/N just walked in. What do I do??’

Natasha thankfully texts back almost immediately. Then again, maybe being a Communications Director for a major company requires her to be a good texter. ‘Wdym what do you do? Just go talk to her.’

‘You were supposed to introduce us!’ Bradley replies, eyes darting between his phone and you at the bar, conflicted.

Natasha is a mutual friend of yours, too, and when the Bracelet-gate clip went viral, she laughed in his face for a full 5 minutes before deciding to set the two of you up. But the schedule never really aligned, so he hasn’t got a chance to see you. Not even after he went to your concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream.

And now, seeing you here in the same room at the same time as him…

‘What do you want me to do, get down there and do it for you?’

‘...Can you?’

He senses the judgment even as the three dots appear on his screen. 

‘Stop being a pussy, Bradshaw. Let me Netflix and chill with my gf in peace.’

Bradley scoffs, half-annoyed and half-fond. ‘Asshole. Have fun.’

The dance floor clears up, just enough to see that you’re right there. Leaning against the bar in your dress like a dirty daydream, talking to the bartender, and he couldn’t just let you go without a word. He thought about it, and he simply couldn’t.

“Oi, where are you off to?” His teammate Martin hollers, while the others watch him make his way to the bar in determined strides.

He squeezes past patrons across this jungle of a club, hoping to God that somebody hasn’t beaten him to talk to you yet, or you haven’t ducked out completely. Oh fuck. You’re still there, though. Good. You’re still at the bar, still glimmering under the mirrorball. Just a tap on the shoulder away. You can do it, Bradshaw…

“Excuse me, I—”

You feel the hand on your shoulder just as you turn and stand up, and in a flurry of miscoordination, looks up just as the other person moves in.

In a stroke of dumb luck, Bradley feels the top of your head slamming up against his nose and he groans in pain. “Ohh!”

“Shit! Oh my God…” you gasp, reaching out to the man in front of you. He’s tall, very tall, and you can’t quite see his face with his massive hand clutching his nose. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, it’s okay. My bad…” It really doesn’t seem like it, so he lets go of his nose and smiles sheepishly. Gosh, he must’ve looked stupid right now.

But you see it differently. What you see is a dashing man in a sleek tieless navy suit and a well-groomed mustache, straight out of a Cinemascope flick, ever so handsome despite his reddened nose from the way you just accidentally headbutted him. “No, that was totally mine. Are you okay?”

Your eyes are crystal clear even in the dim light, the concern is palpable in your gaze—and rightly so. It’s just that he’d take the headbutt any day, if it means he can look at your beautiful face. “I’m… I’m swell. Y/N, right?”

There’s a shift in your gaze. First, alert—you’re assessing how much of a potential threat this person is, whether they’re gonna be weird about you— and then it relaxes. Not a threat. Then a slightest hint of mischief, like she wants to know what kind of dynamics they would have. “Have we met?”

And boy, can he.

“We haven’t, actually. But I went to your show at Wembley earlier this week. You were amazing.” He offers a handshake. “Bradley Bradshaw.”

You didn’t quite catch his name over the blaring music, although you shake his hand anyway. “Sorry?” 

He leans into your ear, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”

You don’t know which one makes your heart skip, the sudden close proximity, the warmth of his timbre, or the whiff of his perfume.

“Right. Nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You accept his handshake, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are in the strobing purple light.

“Likewise.” He nods with a smile. “And may I just say… you look stunning.”

“What, this old thing?” You brush down the art nouveau-inspired Balmain dress on your body. You’re just being modest, of course; you know you’re dressed to the nines. You have never been much into facial hair, but somehow that mustache suits him very well. “You don’t look so bad yourself. You remind me of a… young Robert Mitchum. Or Paul Newman— or one of those Golden Age leading men.”

His face lights up. It’s hardly the first time he received that kind of compliment, but when it came from you, it feels… different. It feels special. It makes him just a little bolder. “Yeah? Maybe after a few drinks, I’ll be quoting lines from Butch Cassidy. Or would you prefer Cat On A Hot Tin Roof?”

This piques your interest. A man of culture, it seems. But of course, you can’t be too sure. “I’m more of a Paris Blues kinda gal, I’m afraid.”

Gosh, you don’t swoon so easily and he likes you so much for that. “Makes sense.”

“How so?”

“It’s a good underrated musical movie, for the musically gifted… And Sidney Poitier was just fantastic in that.”

“Huh.” You raise your eyebrows. You honestly thought he was just spouting the famous titles. But the fact that he has likely seen this hidden gem might just mean he’s really into it. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”

He leans in to speak in your ear yet again. “If you stick with me for a bit, I might show you another surprise or two.”

The music drowns out your racing heart just barely, and the bartender places a whole set of tequila shots on the bar top, and it snaps you out of your reverie for a moment. 

“Wanna get some air?”

He seems surprised, but of course he wasn’t gonna throw away this shot. “Sure. Why not?”

You instruct the bartender to send the shots to your booth, not even spending ten seconds to ponder staying in this deafening hell hole. Not when this man looks like peace. Perhaps an undercurrent of mystery underneath, but his whole demeanor is as calm and comforting as those old-school movies you put on to fall asleep. At the same time, something about this person pulls you in, it’s almost magnetic, and you can’t help wanting to see this through.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 19, Unfriended - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, yelling, mentions of violence against women.

Word Count: 1.9k

Previously On...: You showed Nat and Wanda the texts. They were as bad as you thought.

A/N: You guys sure know how to make me give you whatever you want with all your flattery! I am WEAK. Keep it coming ;) Also, this scene is the very first one that came into my head during the creation of this fic, one of the first I wrote for it. It had to be redone a lot as the story changed, but I like to think I kept the beats and emotions the same as I first intended to be.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

Once inside the conference room, your friends made sure to sit you between the two of them, so that Bucky couldn't park himself next to you. Unfortunately, there wasn't much they could do to keep him from taking the seat across from you.

"Hey," he said as he sat down, "I've been trying to call you; thought we could go get some lunch before returning to our previously scheduled activities. Where've you been?" You acted as though you hadn't heard him, pretending you were extremely interested in something on your phone. It didn't escape your notice, however, when Jade entered the room and sat down in the seat next to him, Bucky instinctively shifted his seat away from her slightly. She glanced between the two of you, a smug smile playing across her lips.

"Bucky," she greeted. "How's things?"

"Carthage," he huffed in response. You made the mistake of catching his eye for a brief second, and he offered you a tentative smile before you immediately hardened your expression and turned away.

Nat jotted down a sentence in her notebook and slid the paper over to you. Your puppy looks like you just kicked him in the face and he can't figure out why.

You suppressed a snicker and wrote back I can't reward a mongrel for indiscriminately humping bitches, can I? You quickly worked to scribble over your words as Natasha positively cackled at you, drawing everyone's attention.

"You alright there, Nat?" Tony asked as he entered the room, moving toward the front of the space and getting ready to begin the meeting. Nat coughed and took a sip from her water bottle.

"Just peachy, Tony," she answered, stifling a smile. "Just peachy."

"Okay, good. Let's get this started, then." He opened up his tablet and flicked a projection over the table. It was a series of photographs of about two dozen or so young women, all looking to be in their late teens to early thirties. "These women," Tony began, "have all been reported missing from the vicinity of Atlantic City over the last eighteen months. They've all got a history of either drugs, prostitution, or both, so the local police aren't interested in wasting valuable resources tracking them down. Fortunately for them, my resources are endless." He gave a sad smile, then with another flick of his wrist, brought up a three-dimensional schematic of a squat building. "This is called the Wiggle Room. It's a Russian-owned club where at least half of the missing girls were dancers at some point in the last three years."

"You're thinking trafficking," you spoke up. It wasn't a question. You knew the signs too well, after all. Tony nodded.

"That's horrible," said Jade "but, I mean, we're the Avengers. Isn't trafficking kind of... I dunno, below our paygrade?"

If looks could kill, you and Natasha would have murdered her on the spot. Bucky rolled his eyes before leaning over and murmuring something to Jade that you couldn't quite hear, but you had a pretty good idea what it was when her face turned red and she looked at the two of you and muttered "Oh, sorry-- I didn't know."

Your next murder-by-death stare went to Bucky. How fucking dare he divulge your secrets to her, especially when you told him he was only one of three people on this entire fucking planet who knew them? You told him that in confidence. He had absolutely no right. He just shrugged at you apologetically. Fucking shrugged. You were going to throw up. How many times was he going to betray you?

"As I was saying," Tony continued, as though Jade hadn't interrupted him, and you were grateful for it, "we want to put a couple of people on the inside, work there for a few months, see what they can find out."

"Oooh!" said Jade, bouncing in her seat and raising her hand like she was in grade school. "I volunteer!" She turned to stage whisper to Bucky. "Wouldn't I make an absolutely adorable stripper? It would be so much fun!"

Bucky had the good sense, for once in his life, to roll his eyes at Jade as Tony spoke up: “You’re benched, Carthage,” he said matter of factly. “Which reminds me; we need to have a discussion about how you managed to sneak your ass onto the Russia mission.

You felt a sick sense of satisfaction when you saw the look of chastisement cross Jade’s face, and were overcome with a renewed curiosity over just how she happened to get herself on that Quinjet in the first place. Not that it mattered, not anymore.

"So, do you think you'd be up for it, Pocket?" Tony turned to you. "Willing to dust off those pasties and jump back on the pole one last time?"

You smirked, having suspected that the ask was coming as soon as he mentioned a strip club. "What can I say, Boss? It'll be like riding a bike."

"Good, because maintenance is putting a practice pole in your room as we speak. Don't want you looking rusty undercover."

"As if I could ever!” You pretended to be affronted.

"Hold up," said Steve, and suddenly, you could feel all eyes on you. Oops. You’d forgotten that part of your history was also not common knowledge. You glanced around and everyone was staring; Sam's mouth was even hanging open. "Are you saying Pocket used to be a stripper?" Steve whispered the last word, as though it was naughty and he'd get in trouble for using it.

"Hey," you said nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders, "MIT ain't cheap."

"I'll have you know, Cap, that exotic dancing is a craft, and our Pocket here is an artist." You beamed at Tony's words, pride flushing through you. Your past as a dancer wasn't something that you necessarily led conversations with, but you weren't ashamed of it. The money had been excellent, and you'd been good at it. Damned good.

"You've seen her?" Sam asked, mouth still hanging open.

"How do you think we met?" Tony asked him, as if it was the stupidest question in the world.

"No," said Bucky, out of nowhere, his voice hard and angry. He stood up, fists planted on the table, glaring at you.

"It was definitely while she was working at a strip club" Tony said, deliberately mistaking Bucky's meaning. "It's not everyday you get a comparative analysis of the weaknesses of your company's firewalls at the same time you get a lap dance; tends to leave a lasting impression."

"No, I mean Pocket's not going undercover. She's just a civilian and it's too dangerous. Send Natasha or Jade in, instead," Bucky bit out through gritted teeth.

"Excuse me?" You stood up, as well, mirroring his stance and matching his glare from across the table. "You do not get to determine what missions are too dangerous for me, James. You're not my father."

"But I'm your boyfriend," he said, and the fact that you had called him 'James,' and not 'Bucky' or 'Barnes' wasn't lost on him. "And I care about whether or not you get hurt."

You laughed, cold and mirthless. "Since when?" you spat, letting every ounce of pain you felt at his betrayal into your voice. He looked back at you, hurt and abject confusion clouding his features.

"If you're so worried about her, then you can go, too," Tony said. "Go as her boyfriend, get a job at the club as a bouncer. We need multiple sets of eyes."

Bucky seemed almost mollified by this suggestion, but you were not going to allow it. "Absolutely not," you said, the conviction ringing in your voice. "Sam'll come with me."

"What?" both Sam and the super soldier asked at the same time.

"Barnes is way too identifiable with that metal arm," you offered by way of explanation. "No way in hell I'll keep my cover if I walk in with the fucking Winter Soldier by my side."

"She's got a point," Steve said, scratching his chin. "But Pocket, language, please." You stole a glance at Bucky, and his eyes were full of pain. You'd called him the Winter Soldier. Out loud. You'd never done that; you knew how hard he worked to differentiate himself from the monster Hydra had turned him into. It was a low blow on your part, but you couldn't find it in you to give a shit.

Tony clapped his hands. "All right, then it's settled. Pocket and Sam will go to Atlantic City. It's strictly an intel-finding mission, only. No heroics, got it you two?" You both nodded in agreement. While you were excited to go out into the field in an undercover capacity, you had no desire to see combat. Sure, you could more than handle your own if it came down to self-defense-- Nat had made sure of that, but there was a reason you were the computer girl and not an actual superhero yourself. "Pocket, get practicing. You've got about a week before we’ll be sending you and Sam out; don’t want you embarrassing me up there. Any questions? No? Good. That's it, then, class adjourned. 

"Oh, and one more thing," he said before everyone could collect themselves, "don't forget, our girl's turning 35 on Saturday. The party starts at eight. Dress to kill, because I'm going all out for this one."

You couldn't help the blush that crept up your face, despite the rollercoaster of anger and agony you’d been feeling. When Tony had approached you about throwing you a birthday party, you'd demurred, telling him you were too old for one, but he had insisted that, since you'd missed out on so many childhood experiences because of what your parents had put you through, you were going to get a party to remember.

You got up and gathered your things, purposefully avoiding Bucky as Nat and Wanda glared at him while they waited to escort you out. You were eager to get up to your new room so you could start researching the missing women and this strip club and, a part of you admitted with a smile, get practicing your old routine and come up with a couple of new ones. It was just the thing you needed to take your mind off of your current troubles.

“Pocket, Sam,” Tony called, catching your attention, “hold back a minute; I want to go over some details with you.”

Nat and Wanda looked at you, but you encouraged them to go on; Steve had made a beeline toward Bucky after the meeting had been adjourned and, despite Bucky lingering, obviously waiting to speak with you, had managed to steer him out of the room to discuss something you couldn’t give a shit about. “It’s fine, guys,” you told your friends. “He’s gone; I should be able to get back up to the room without trouble.

They exchanged a glance, then looked back at you. Nodding, they left.

“Pocket,” Tony said, once the conference room was clear and it was just the two of you and Sam remaining, “care to tell me why FRIDAY says you’ve moved rooms?”

“Not at the current moment, Boss,” you said. You didn’t want to rehash the drama you’d been thrown into against your will, let alone in front of a completely innocent bystander. Instead, you encouraged him to get on with whatever more he needed to tell you and Sam about the parameters of the mission. Hopefully, it would distract you enough to take your mind off of the sheer agony you felt inside.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hey! Love your fics! Have just finished The Taste of Temptation 🥵 a small idea popped in my head where Daniel is away and his Kitty is spending time with other drivers on a yacht. The aussie sees the pics, his blood starts to boil but then he sees the pics where she's putting on his DR3 or Enchante merch on

Temptation Snapshot || DR3 {1}

A/N: there will be a splattering of little snapshots of moments between Danny and his kitten from The Taste of Temptation universe.

F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

“Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?”

Lando looked offended at the question and purposefully hit the waves in the wake of Charles' boat, launching the JetSki into the air. Your arms tightened around his waist as you lifted from the seat and your heart rose in your throat at the height of the jump. It was instant karma that he winced at the deafening scream of terror you made but it wasn’t enough to drown out the men laughing at your expense on the yacht.

“Where are you going?” Lando asked with a laugh as you abandoned him and jumped into the sea.

“To change my underwear, you dingbat,” you joked as you swam towards the Monza, making Lando nearly tip over as he tried to turn around while doubled over laughing.

When you reached the Monza, Charles offered his hand to help you up since Pierre was too busy cackling to himself. “Did that use up one of your nine lives, kitten?”

Charles arched an eyebrow in disbelief as he looked at his friend who had been taking pictures all day just to annoy Daniel. “Mate, do you have a death wish?”

“He must have, especially if he posted any of those photos.” You reached into your bag and grabbed the powder-blue oversized Enchantée sweatshirt you had stolen from Daniel. Pulling it over your body was the closest you could get to one of his hugs when he was busy with work and when you took a seat there was enough room to tuck your knees up inside it too.

“They are very good pictures,” he defended himself as he took another couple of Lando pulling up alongside the boat, Charles at the helm and you watching the sun reflect on the shimmering surface. “I could be a photographer, I am an artist.”

You looked at Charles and rolled your eyes. “He took one decent photo of Kika, who is the most photogenic person on the planet, and now he thinks he’s Kym Illman.”

“I’ve taken more, but she would kill me if I showed them off,” Pierre admitted with a smirk.

“Oh my god, mate,” Charles groaned a laugh. “That is not smart. Think, if you get hacked, then what?”

You gave Charles a little clap at the point he made but Pierre just laughed it off without a care. “You worry too much.”

Red Bull Training Facility

Sweat drenched the singlet Daniel wore but he pushed himself to finish the last rep knowing a break was coming as soon as he was done. The routine physical fitness test was never fun but the fact it was taking him away from time with you left him in a sour mood. He was doing his best and results were better than ever because he knew the sooner he finished then the quicker he could head home to Monaco where you were waiting.

“Alright, good work. Take a breather, get a drink, and be back here in 10.”

Daniel was quick to grab his phone with his bottle of water and took a seat on the Swiss ball. His lips tugged up into a smile when he saw the messages from you, wishing him well and how much you missed him. He replied to them first, promising everything he would do to show you just how much he missed you too.

Seeing a tonne of notifications on Instagram, he opened the app next and his jaw clenched at what he found. All through his dashboard were images of you wearing next to nothing with the two-piece swimsuit he gave to you. He was surprised the sweat on his body didn’t turn to steam the way his blood boiled.

The whole day had been caught in a series of photos Pierre had posted. There was one of you standing at the bow of the Monza as she pulled out of the marina, you diving off the back and swimming to Lando who had followed on Max’s JetSki, you sitting behind the British driver with your arms around his waist. Every swipe to the next image left him feeling hollow and empty as he watched his kitten’s smile grow with each one.

Until it was gone.

Daniel cursed as he found a picture with terror clear on your face. Lando had launched the JetSki over a wave and you had held onto him for dear life. That was the last photo on the vessel and he sighed with relief when the next photo erased every chaotic thought he had had. You were snuggled into his sweatshirt and watching the sun like you did at home. Daniel would often find you in a similar state most mornings as you sat on the balcony overlooking the sea, a hot tea in hand and his clothes on your body.

Daddy Ric: Stealing more of my clothes, kitten?

Kitten: They look better on me.

Daddy Ric: They’d look even better on the bedroom floor.

Kitten: Then hurry up and come home.

“Break time is over, this isn’t summer camp.”

Daddy Ric: Soon, kitten. I’ll see you tonight.

Click here for another snapshot.

[swee7dream]

ilichil as agere caregivers ! nct 127 x f!reader

warnings feminine nicknames dni if you sexualize age regression in any way . author's note i guess this is my opening to start writing cg!127 and cg!wayv ! mahae can be found here and winwin's headcanons can be found in wayv's when it's out .

seo youngho (￢‿￢ )

you got him wrapped around your finger! not that he’ll ever admit it

saw a cute dress? he got it for you. your stuffie’s arm ripped? he’s learning to sew for you.

purposefully hides pieces of the puzzle you’re building and feigns innocence just to see you get mad when you find out his schemes

“how’d that happen?” he pouts, cocking his head to the side.

if he every truly upsets you, he’s quick to apologize, pulling you into his arms and leaving kisses all over your cheeks until you’re laughing again because it tickles so much and he’s holding you so tight you can’t get away!

johnny loves being called daddy! he’s your daddy and you’re his babygirl!

loves cheesy, old-fashioned nicknames like honeybun, buttercup, cupcake… he just thinks you’re sweet, is what he’s trying to say

he loves when you sit on his lap and show him the coloring pages you finished while he was gone. he’ll make up stories off them like the purple elephant that wants to be a trapeze for the circus!

another big fan of playing pretend

his favorite game is dinosaurs, stomping around the house in slow motion with an evil toothy grin. you always manage to sneak away from his t-rex arms somehow but he’ll get you one day!

but johnny isn’t just a big goof. he knows when to put his foot down and is more 50-50 with it rather than taeil’s 90-10.

“i said no. put that back, please.”

his serious voice never fails to cause a shiver up your spine, settling you down within seconds.

when you finally decided to tell johnny, it took a minute for him to understand what exactly age regression is but kept the line of communication open. very open.

once, you were at work and your screen lit up with a message notification from him reading ‘do you like pacifiers?’

you almost beat him up

lee taeyong (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

worrywart !

doesn’t wanna make your regression feel even the slightest bit off. prioritizes your safety and comfort

at the beginning, taeyong as a cg can be seen as… a bit much

in preparation for his first time caring for you when small, he bought so many things. just anything he saw mentioned just once in all of his research of agere.

from itty bitty gear to middle/teen gear, bubu bought it all. if you don’t use any gear at all and have the ice cold heart to tell him so, you watch the color drain from his face.

poor guy

he just likes to be prepared. there’s nothing he likes more than a good plan.

cooking together is always so much fun. never lets you near the knives or heat but likes to keep you around to be his taste tester!

“what do you think, sweet pea?” “so yummy, bubu!”

loves doing crafts with you, particularly finger painting. you do it regularly, always forgetting that taeyong’s going to make you take a bath when the two of you end up with paint all over your faces and clothes

if you are allow it, taeyong is great with bathtimes !! he’s got rubber duckies and bath crayons to play with while he washes your hair.

cackles like a witch with a cauldron when adding a bathbomb to the bathtub, saying he’s preparing ‘baby soup’

“mommy, stop bein’ creepy.” “sorry, bug (っ- ‸ – ς)”

nakamoto yuta (￣ω￣)

“so yeah, it was just me and this big panther booking it down the forest to get away from this bear.” “and then?!” “i dunno i made it up :3”

an evil, evil man that takes advantage of your imagination during your tiny time to make up stories only to not finish them!

“what do you think would’ve happened next, baby?”

evil, but a good storyteller that gives you ideas for games nearly everyday you suppose….

loves playing dress up and salon

learned to do your hair! it’s an ongoing process… how did you end up with one low bun and one high? don’t ask

your breath hitches because he pulled a little too tight and he drops everything. are you okay? are you crying? he’s sorry, so so sorry. you know what? let’s have ice cream for dinner

likes listening to acid black cherry while doing your (v-kei) makeup! lets you sit on his lap when its your turn to do his

“daddy’s making you a total rockstar, baby.”

lets you draw on him! might get one (or several) of your doodles tattooed on his skin permanently just because he likes it so much

cuddling is his true life’s passion. takes out all the pillows and blankets in the house to make a pillow fort for movie nights. if he has any left over he uses them to wrap you up into a burrito

kim dongyoung （´▽｀）

just smile and wave, doyoung, smile and wave

maybe he shouldn’t have introduced you to his friends… they help add to your mischievous streak

“bunny? kangaroo! …pogo stick?” “doie… ‘s obviously you.” “me?” “yeah! when you can’t get the stuff on the top shelf at the the store so you did like this. ‘member? doie so bad at charades...” “:D ?!”

simultaneously the most competitive and worst player when it comes to video games

says he’s gonna win as you load up animal crossing like ….? okay gramps

hates when you call him that so you do it as much as possible because you live to displease

always knows the right thing to say when you’re feeling big feelings that feel only bigger when you’re small

treats you like you’re made of porcelain, his fingers delicately wiping your tears away silently.

never tells you to not cry or to stop, just tries to makes the process of feeling your emotions as easy as possible by making sure you’re drinking as much water as you’re crying out and making sure nothing could trigger you further

when you first told him about your regression you weren’t sure what his reaction was gonna be. he just stared dead at you in silence for like 8 minutes and then whispered “yeah… that makes sense” to himself

what is that supposed to mean? you know as well as i

jeong yunoh o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

he really just wants you to think he’s cool

that’s his main thing. of course, you being comfortable and happy is first, but you thinking he’s cool is a close second

most of his cg work is actually done behind the scenes; trying recipes, researching agere tips, and learning different crafts so that when you’re finally little again he can see the sweet, sweet sight of your awe

if you two planned for you to have some tiny time after a long time spent without regressing because overwhelming stress and responsibilities, you can bet on jaehyun to have organized an entire mermaid scavenger hunt in your home at a 6pm on a wednesday evening

the reward is always a ticket for something like a veggie-free night or a warm hug (he’ll give them to you whether you have one or not)

he calls them baby tickets

yes, that’s really what he calls them. yes, he chose the name himself.

there’s a reason you don’t let him name your dolls or stuffies

you tried once, this is basically how it went:

“hyunnie, what you think?” “it’s a bear… and pink… what about bearie? like strawberry and bear. bearie, haha. get it?” “…”

likes being called mister! but it’s actually rare for you to call him anything other than hyunnie

“say ‘please’ and i’ll think about it.” “please, mist-”

he’s already swiping his card

dong sicheng ♡✧( ु•⌄• )

read here (when it’s published) !

kim jungwoo (☆^ー^☆)

the silliest!!!!! how can you not love snoopy

your number one supporter in every single thing.

“the way you colored the sky with cerulean blue instead of the standard blue is just a peek into the artistic genius mind you have, my dear. how is every single art piece of yours just flawless?”

your babbles? “you don’t say! you know, i never did like that scoundrel…”

loves playing doggy! he could be cleaning around the house but if you slip that dog ear headband on him he’ll drop everything to entertain you.

he’s shattered a few plates...

he’s the most loyal friend you could have. he herds all your sheep plushies together and sniffs out the clues to help you solve the mysteries!

he also lets you doodle on his face. he’s just so easy-going it doesn’t matter what. whiskers? meow! mustache? hm, yes, it’s quite becoming of him, he thinks. you stuck some gem stickers on his cheeks? he’s an alien from the moon.

likes playing pretend much more than playing with toys.

sulky when you choose to play with your dolls rather than him. when he’s literally right there!!! your best friend :(( your buddy :((

i don’t know how else to describe this other than a dog-like caregiver

energy is always up, even when its bedtime which can be counterproductive sometimes. although? not completely? he definitely helps you tire yourself out until you’re knocked out on the couch

his nickname for you is giggles !! your giggles are his favorite thing in the whole wide world and makes sure to tell you that often.

lee minhyung (ᓀ‸ᓂ)

read here !

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ

read here !

extra ! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

cg!johnny+yuta is being hit with whiplash every two seconds because they can either be the sweetest people ever or pranksters from the deepest depth of WICKEDNESS AND DARKNESS. they always, always, always tag team too, so it’s not like you can run to one when they other is trying to tickle you to death

cg!jeno+jungwoo is what happens when a baby is left alone with an old, tired dog (jeno) and his younger brother that has all the energy in the world (jungwoo)

cg!taeyong+doyoung has the same power imbalance as djj, leaving doyoung groveling at the ground even when he’s supposed to be the one taking care of the others

[bao4aohao]

chap 2 - go for the throat

-> slight! texting chapter

-> warnings !! - violence, swearing

you're sitting on a table with some people from your class. you don't really talk to them but you'll make small conversations if you have to, so you could say they are somewhat you're friends.

you tapped your foot impatiently while waiting for your orange haired friend.

suddenly, a notification distracted you.

you groaned as you sat with your friends who were busy engaging with their own conversations. as you play with your food, time began to pass slowly.

you start to drown in the loud atmosphere, looking left and right but no one were paying attention to you. you tried to look busy by scrolling your phone and can't help but felt a bit..sad.

you were still pissed off at your new teacher, god that stupid man!? hot but god damn annoying man?! who does he think he is? you sighed at your now mashed plate of rice which gave you another reason why you should skip today's classes.

you were about to get up but a voice from behind caught your attention the most.

" omg right! today we had a sub teacher and he's sooooo hot~ but we almost got in trouble because of a bitch who didn't paid attention UGH!

you turned behind to see a bunch of girls giggling with each other, and the one who made that comment turned to side eye you.

ignoring their gazes you pretended not to hear them. you were tired from your first class, losing anymore energy was the last thing you wanted.

the girls continued to make nasty comments about you and it was started to get to you.

you stood up, holding your tray bumping the girl's should on purpose.

" oops, sorry about that " you smiled, eyes closed.

the girls did not like it one bit.

" watch it, bitch. " she snarled back.

you laughed and turned around to out your tray back but something hit you on the back of your head.

you felt a welt sensation on your hair. you touch your hair and it was a white liquid.

" fuck it- "

you stomped your way back to their table and smack that bitch's face with the tray. hair was something you cherish and no one touches it. not even your family except for you.

" THAT WAS MY HAIR YOU BITCH-UGH LET GO OF ME " you yelled as the girl pulled your hair when you pounced on her. you then grab a chunk of her hair and pulled tightly, making her scream too.

a crowd began to form quickly around us while a few people tried to separate us.

you pinned her down and got on top on her. you didn't know why but you started to clog her but choking her.

" that's right choke on my fingers BITCH " you cackled. you felt your inner demons coming up until a voice called your name.

" Y/N! Y/N! I'M HERR-OH GOD " you heard shoyou's voice for a second. this led you to hesitate for a moment and the next thing you know, you had losing your grip and something hit your eye really hard. then, you fell back and it turned dark.

you had blacked out.

-

' ughh ' you groaned, opening your eyes slowly to find yourself in an unfamiliar room. you peeked to your right and you saw the last person you wanted to see. Tsukshima fucking kei.

you felt a swell in your left eyelids and you felt a slight bump. you then recalled what had happened an the fight you had gotten into before you blacked out.

' great. first a black eye and now I have to see this shitty teacher ' you rolled your eyes as you tried to sit up. tsukishima was standing and looking out of the window before hearing the shuffling noises behind him.

he turned around and saw you groaning due to the pain while trying to get up from the bed. he immediately went to grab your arms and tried to help you up, but that made you felt even weirder.

" I-I can get up myself! I don't need your help since you gave me enough about the essay " you looked at him in the eyes, clearly pissed at his presence.

he stared at you for a moment and chuckled for a few seconds before smirking at you. ' what the fuck..why's he smirking at me like that..' you thought, confused.

he replied, " don't worry y/n, you don't need to write the essay since you're..injured.. " he eyes you up and down before tossing the stack of notes on your lap.

" here, I don't need them anymore. neat notes by the way, although under the uniform circular motion on page 15, you missed out that the velocity vector is always tangent to the path of the object. " he proudly said.

then, he swiftly left the room leaving you in the empty and quiet sick bay with the sound of the fan vibrating on the top corner of the room.

the door suddenly opened, his head popped out.

" but you will repay back in a different way, I'll let you know "

then he closed the door back. It irked you as he seemed to think punishing you was funny to him. you felt like punching his face the next time you see him again.

you didn't waste time and slowly stand up to compose yourself. you tried looking for your phone and bag but they were no where to be found.

you panicked and speed walked out of the room only to see shoyou carrying your bag with one arm and on the other holding some food. you didn't know why but you ran up to him and gave him the fattest hug you have ever given to anyone.

" thanks for bringing me here " you said, grateful for his help. you let go to see him red as always.

" i-it was nothing, I swear! all it matters you're okay now..HERE! this your favourite matcha latte right?? yachi told me you liked matcha soooo I gottem hehe " he beamed as he passed you your drink.

you thanked him and chugged it like there's no tomorrow. you didn't know how thirsty you have gotten and you didn't bother about the brain freeze that hit you almost instantly.

you just felt a sense of comfort. beating up that bitch was definitely something you did NOT regret. it was like a small burden off your shoulder.

just then, when you two were about to leave, shoyou spoke up.

" uhh y/n..the person that carried you here actually wasn't me...well I did told the nurse about your injury but.. " he awkwardly dragged the words.

" who was it then? I need to thank them hais.. " you sighed, knowing you made a stranger carried you was kind of embarassing.

" it was our new teacher, Mr tsukishima. " he said.

you looked at him and his face shows he was telling the truth.

" deadass? " you asked, he nodded back.

' this is so weird, why would he do that? doesn't he hate me or something? ' you questioned yourself and wanted to kill youself right there.

Not only did he punished you in front of the all class, he ALSO carried you to the sick bay and stayed until you woke up. guilt started to build up in you.

sure he scolded and humiliated you in front of t he whole class but THIS? you felt as if now you owe him a favor and you know it's going to be something bad seeing his personality.

all you could do is pray for the best and continue to focus on your studies as exams were coming up.

prev | next | main pg

NOTES

I tried making y/n a real one here, the intrusive thoughts ykwim.

something uploaded the fight on twitter, a certain someone was abit too excited about it

© all works are done by @ bao4aohao do not copy/rewrite/steal thank you.

[wyvernsrus]

He hummed, arms crossed, looking down at the pitiful scene his brother made. Ordo found it funny that Mereel had declared he could easily beat the Alpha's in a fight. Maze sliding into the conversation to take the bet however, had been to both of their surprise.

Bet made, Maze had given them a time and said he'd bring Mereel's opponents with him.

"What do you mean opponents?"

"You said Alphas, plural" Maze grinned at them over his shoulder, all sharp teeth and unhinged glee.

Which led them to where they were currently.

"You could just roll over" Ordo rolled his eyes at the resulting screech and watched Mereel try to get two kitted and tired Alpha ARCs off of him.

One was lounging on his back, using Mereel like a long pillow. They had his brother's arm trapped under their combined weight and- if Ordo didn't know better- was using the added hassle of moving a limp body to further dissuade any escape attempts.

The other Alpha was perched on Mereels legs- perched was a reach, more like their legs were tangled together, Ordo thought- and was picking through every pocket they could wiggle their fingers into.

When cutting a glance to his side, Ordo took in how Maze looked like a satisfied tooka and wondered if this was how the other Captain normally looked when his shiver was on shore leave.

"You lost the bet," Maze's voice almost had a lilt to it, "now after you get done you owe me and my kih'vode some nice drinks." He cackled- cackled! Ordo didn't know how to feel about this side of Maze he was seeing- and set about pulling up his comm to take a holo of the scene.

"I call the bet unfair" Mereel grumbled into the mat and grunted when the alpha on his legs- Stec, that was his name- managed to pry open the pouch Ordo knew held those sour candies that Mereel liked. Maze seemed to chose to ignore Mereel's complaints as a notification buzzed Ordo's comm right as Maze mentioned sending the holo to the 17. That got Mereel to attempt another bid at freedom while cursing at Maze.

Ordo ignored the renewed scuffling to save the holo to his own small stash of photos and make a copy to send to Jaing, knowing that it'd escape Mereel's clutches.

[shinagawa-division]

The day was slowly winding down in Shinagawa. In just a few short hours Sumire Shinomiya’s birthday would come to an end. Said birthday girl was now in her lab about to open a gift that was just delivered a short while ago. Gift was selling it short someone had delivered a whole crate to her. Still taking a crowbar Sumire cracked open the crate.

Inside the crate was a gothic black and violet vanity with demon wings and a demon's head above the mirror.

Sumire blinked. She had not expected that of all things as a gift. The dual-haired girl quickly noticed a gift box on the vanity somehow not fallen during the moving process and Sumire picked it up and began to open it.  

Inside the small gift was a black and violet flower with black stems sprouting from the middle, making it look like it had devil horns. Overall, it did not look like a nice flower. Seeing a note attached Sumire carefully picked it up and began to read. 

Sumire,

Happy Birthday to my favorite demoness. Consider this a thank you for providing me with great entertainment in August. It always amuses me to see that insolent spoiled brat get his comeuppance. He’s even #1 on that dead pool list fufufu. If you ever want a partner to collect the said reward, you know who to call. Now enjoy your gifts dear. The flower I call “Diabolus Hellebore” I bred it just for you to use. Careful she’s quite poisonous but I suppose fitting for you. 

– Reika A.

Sumire cackled as she read the card, she was sitting on her bed in her room (the one that was above the basement) and watching Malphas carry the vanity to the area of the room she wanted it to be stationed at with ease. The AI letting out a sigh as he slowly set it down, "This good?" He asked and Sumire nodded with a hum of approval. "Thank you, Mal."

"No problem." He responded and took the plotted plant that Sumire gave to him before placing it on the vanity, it sat right at home with the demonic gothic design. "She made a plant after you? That's a first." Malphas commented as he looked at the flower, he could detect an abundance of powerful poisons seeping from it and made a mental note to ask Sumire if he could barrow a few petals for his venom.

"Yeah but I like it, it's sweet. I gotta remember to thank Reika sometime, not only for helping with the wedding prank but also to donating to Player One Studios, she's a real gem, that one." Sumire grinned as she stood up from the bed.

Malphas raised an eyebrow before coughing pointedly, "Uh, aren't you forgetting someone? None of this wouldn't happened if I wasn't there to basically hold his fucking hand to ruining his life."

Sumire rolled her eyes before skipping over and giving the android a big hug. "Of course, Mal-Mal, you helped out so much, I couldn't have done it without you, my precious partner in crime." She looked up at him with big eyes and smiled, Malphas smiled back before reaching up and pinching Sumire's cheek in between his fingers making the girl yelp.

"Adorable, Sumi, but y'know that's not what I'm asking for."

"Ow! Ow! Alright fine! Just let go!" The anarchist whined and squirmed, Malphas watched on in amusement before letting her flesh.

Sumire stepped away from the tall man and glared at him (there was no heat behind it), huffing, she took out her phone and did a series of taps.

Malphas grinned, fangs out in the open as he felt his phone ping with the notification of money being put in his account. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever, asshole."

Thank you for the gift!

[igotsnothing]

I would love to see your backstage of making your vampire story <3 how you take your photos, chose perspectives, plan dialogues. please tell about your process

Hello, Friend of Mystery!!

Happy New Year and thank you for this ask! I'm a very small-time simmer in this corner of the interwebz filled with really talented and artistic simblrs, so I appreciate the question and interest!

Now, backstage! The method to the madness!

I usually have an idea: it's a loose- general idea of the direction and mood of the plot and dialogue. I don't like to be too specific unless I have a clear pose in mind for a scene. The thought process might be something like, "Lawrence and Julian are going to have a talk about vampires and technology in this scene, but act flirty with each other while they do so."

I go into the game to organize the setting and choose outfits/props. MCCC and Wonderful Whims are game-changers for posing. I'm a terrible builder, so I end up spending a lot of time browsing the gallery or searching for builds and objects by skilled folks. That part is often fun. Imagining the potential of lots and cc is a big part of gaining admission to the mental asylum expressing creativity in this game! Depending on the story I am working on, I may have mods like Underworld running to make sure it always looks like nighttime in my environments.

I use Reshade. It saves me time when editing and gives the images lovely depth, shading, and coloring that otherwise isn't there. I use different presets that I screw around with and tweak, but some favorites are Marigold and Senshi 4.0. Shadows and lighting are super important and can make or break a scene.

Once I have my image, I'll tweak it in Photoshop. Thanks to Reshade, it's usually just to quickly fix something, like clipping or rough edges.

I use Canva to organize my stories and write in the dialogue, but that's always dangerous because my inner middle-schooler wants to unleash a million stickers everywhere and ruin the edits. Ask me how many times I've stuck googly eyes on Lawrence and cackled at my own idiocy ingenuity!

I write while I am taking pictures. The sequence is: pose, take the picture, edit the image, write, and on to the next scene. I used to take all the images first and write afterward but found that sometimes a pose or screenshot would unexpectedly convey a different take on an idea, reaction, or character- or even inspire a different direction for the dialogue in a scene. It's easier for me to adapt the dialogue to an image than vice versa. I feel that writing as I go, while my game is open and ready gives me more flexibility and freedom to make changes.

???

Profit!

Ok, now-sorry- for real. I download everything, usually save it as a draft, wait a bit to see if I catch any big mistakes, and then post.

I actually struggle with serious self-doubt and a really mean inner critic, so posting here has been an exercise in self-acceptance. Still, I often avoid checking the notifications for a while after I post because I am that nervous. But I'm happier for sharing my stuff rather than not since I have had the chance to connect with so many fun and talented people here!

That's it!

Thank you for the ask on this first day of the year! It made me super happy! All the best to you!! ❤️

[astrolatrism]

CIGARETTES OUT THE WINDOW

—j. knoxville

chapter 2. (SERIES + social media AU + crackfic)

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 𓂂 ﾟ𓈒 ݁ .

The sun escaped from the sides of the blinds that protected your window and fell ever so softly into your face as if it was waking you up personally. Your eyes fluttered open and your body started up again as you tried to get up. Your whole body ached as normal, but this time there was a different feeling accompanying it. It was the same feeling you got when you had something… new. A new idea for a book, outfit, art piece, or even so simple as a song. It fell heavy onto your heart and it reminded you of your actions last night. You couldn’t decide if you were stupid or naive. Stupid to actually think that you had a chance at reconnecting with your lost friend, or naive for the same reason.

You picked up your phone and looked through your notifications as usual. Though you were surprised to be met with messages.

rydunn so its on the 14th

rydunn nd i’ll send u the adress later

system notification you have been added to JACKASSES

rydunn srry they made me

worldofbam did u rlly know johnny as a kid

callmesteveo r u hit

callmesteveo hot*

partyboypontius i cackled

englanddave block them n run while you still can @usern6me

callmesteveo i’m hurt. offended, even.

The conversation went on through the notifications as you scrolled. Honestly you’d never think you’d end up acquaintances with such people. They were the type—in your point of view—of people who always seemed cool and funny, but you’d feel too awkward to go to up and hear your embarrassing voice manage to ask them if you could hang out.

You spaced out because of this chain of thoughts and were brought back to earth by a buzz from your phone. It was Ryan. He’d sent you the address. Now this meant that you were really in it. No turning back. You were really emphasizing everything, it wasn’t that big of a deal looking back on it. But at that time and moment the only thing on your mind was the anxiety of Pj being upset at your presence.

Your first instinct was to call your friend. She always was there to listen, if not to give good advice.

ring.

ring.

ri-

“hello?”

“babe i think i fucked up. like hugely this time.”

She listened to every word you had to say and as soon as the silence set into the air, she burst out laughing. “You-you…. Oh my god…. This is great!!” she struggled to get out through giggles. “Shut up..” you retort. “Nono really, this is fantastic! I’ve been tortured all these years by not getting closure to the story. Kind of like a fanfic where it hasn’t been updated since 5 years ago!” she reasons. You let out a gut laugh. “Imagine how i feel.” you roll your eyes, forgetting she couldn’t see it. The call went on for another hour or so, you couldn’t really tell.

After a minute to process, you decided to actually go. Officially. No turning back, no making up a pathetic excuse, no nothing. But with the decision, came the realization that time is moving rather quickly towards the day that you dread so much. Thank god you had you had just started on your new album before moving again. The appointments for recording and lyric-writing helped take your mind off of Pj.

editors note: this shit is so short srry lol

[redpandaramblings]

Two Weeks- Alpha Gang Orca x Omega f!reader

Hello everyone! Was in an odd mood, so I wrote this little drabble epilogue for A Matter of Admiration. While this short could be read as a stand alone, it will absolutely make a lot more sense if you read the main story first.

Content warning- Omegaverse, fluff, minorly suggestive

Kugo impatiently tapped his fingers on his desk. It was approaching midnight as he stared at the clock on his computer screen. Each second seemed like five as he waited for the minutes to tick by. This had become a usual habit of his in the last few months. At least three times a week he could be found here at this time doing exactly the same thing. It used to be every day, until you had realized what he was doing. A scolding he probably would have ignored, but he felt like he was going to die the week you wouldn’t accept his calls. It hadn’t been any comfort to see you looked in as bad of shape as he did after that week.

Three minutes after midnight the videocall request notification lit up his screen. It’s a wonder Kugo didn’t break the mouse with how fast and forcefully he clicked accept. Your smiling face lit up his screen and his heart.

“Hello Handsome. Miss me?”

“Every second.” He murmured.

Your smile softened. “Miss you too. Promise you’re actually getting sleep though?”

“I am. Wish you were here though. Hate this time difference.”

“Me too, love. Me too. It’s only for a few more weeks though.”

“And then you’re home and never leaving my sight again.”

You chuckled. “I think that would make patrols rather difficult, beloved.”

He smiled at you, leaning his head on his hand as the tension of the day drained from his shoulders. “We’d figure something out. I’m sure you could come up with something.”

“I absolutely could. But I don’t think tactical baby harness would be a good look on you.”

“Oh, I don’t know. The public might find it charming. Soften my image.”

You laughed. “As if you’d let me anywhere close to the action.”

Kugo hummed and nodded as he contemplated. “This is true. Guess I’ll just have to retire from hero work and become your lab assistant.”

“You’d burn down my lab in an hour.”

“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to become your sugar baby.”

You cackled. “Oh. My. God. You did not just say that. You absolutely did not say that.”

“What’s the matter? Don’t want to buy your sugar baby pretty things?”

You wheezed. “That’s it. I’m hanging up.”

He nodded, making an exaggerated sad face. “Parental abandonment. No wonder I resorted to becoming a sugar baby.”

You were gasping with laughter. “Stop!”

He grinned as he watched you. He loved when you laughed, memorizing the way your mouth open and the crinkles by your eyes. You calmed, wiping the tears of laughter away. You attempted and didn’t quite succeed in trying to look stern.

“You’re not allowed to use the phrase ‘sugar baby’ ever again.”

“No promises.”

You shake your head, leaning back in your chair, your spine popping in protest. “Fearsome Gang Orca, everyone thinks. So stern and serious and strict. Always intimidating. What a crock.”

“Disappointed?”

You smile softly. “Never. Love you, Alpha.”

It had been months, and it still filled his stomach with butterflies every time he heard it.

“Love you too, omega. You taking care of yourself? Have you eaten yet?”

You shook your head. “Taking care as much as the job allows, but haven’t eaten yet. Give me a sec and I’ll grab it.”

Kugo watched his screen as you stood and made your way across the lab you were in. He wished he could reach through the screen and touch, and smell, and bite. Your form was perfect. You were perfect. You were perfect and his. And you were over ten thousand kilometers away. He growled low in the back of his throat.

You smirked as you settled yourself back into your seat. “Behave, Alpha.”

He cleared his throat, flushing. He hadn’t even realized he was making noise. Kugo brought his attention fully back to you, a gentle smile spreading across his face when he saw what you held.

“I miss those almost as much as I miss you.”

“Wish I still could get them to you somehow. But I don’t think a bento would survive that long of a trip. And I know you. You’d eat it anyway and make yourself sick.”

“Well, couldn’t let your hard work go to waste.”

You shook your head. “You’re at least eating though? Promise?”

“I am, promise. Even if nothing is half as good as what you make.”

The conversation continued on, Kugo mostly talking as you ate. He told you about how things were at the agency, making you laugh at stories about the trouble the new interns had gotten themselves into. In no time at all, an hour had flown by. The clock chiming if your lab interrupted your chatter about the latest gadget you had been tinkering with. You frowned and sighed. “Guess I need to get back to the grind.”

“I wish you didn’t.” Kugo murmured.

“I know. But just two more weeks now.”

“Two more weeks. Feels like forever.”

“I know.” You smiled sadly. “But it will be over quicker than you think. Unless I take Jim up on his offer to renew my contract of course.”

Kugo growled loudly and you laughed. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“You don’t need to worry. It’s been fun and I’ve learned a lot, but your agency has certain benefits nowhere else can match. Such as the handsomest Alpha in the world.”

Said alpha gave a pleased rumble. Kugo caressed the side of his screen, wishing he could touch you instead. “Just two weeks.”

“Two weeks.”

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t just mate you at the airport.”

“I wouldn’t mind, if I didn’t think it would tank your hero ratings. Actually nevermind, I would mind. Your rank would go up because people would be ogling my handsome Alpha.”

Kugo chuckled. “Wouldn’t want anyone getting too good a view of my pretty omega, either.”

The two of you smiled, just drinking each other in for a few moments longer.

“Do have to go now,” you sighed.

“Go do brilliant work like you always do.”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks.”

[zepskies]

Oh my God, hun, seeing this pop up in my notifications just about made my morning!! 💕 Consider me buckled up, 'cause I'm about to dive in: ⤵️

If anyone was going to appreciate those opening lines, I knew it would be you! ❤️

I'm not even sure how to describe how I feel about this reaction, but it was so very "Dean" and endearing as hell. <3

Aww I'm so glad you think so!! I think Dean is one to heed his gut instincts, even when it takes a second for his brain to catch up. 😂

I blushed reading this exchange. Like, literally. Geez. =']

Ahaha it's the eye contact! 👀 🥴

And I threw my head back and cackled at this. Perfection.

LOL low key that was one of my favorite scenes to write -- seeing the crew (mainly Meg) just roasting Dean. 😂😂

And I melted in record time over the softness here. I guess I really am a sap. xD<3

Welcome to Club Sap™️, where the piña coladas are cold and free assorted chocolates are served 'round the clock. 🧉🧉 I don't just vacation here, I have real estate. 😂💕

But YES! We have Detectives John Winchester and Cas Novak entering the chat, along with ADA Sam Winchester to keep us company. 😂 I so enjoyed weaving in all these AU tidbits and Easter Eggs! And don't worry, you'll find out more about how Mary's death is connected in all of this pretty soon...

And I absolutely had to include the Roadhouse. It's just such a perfect meeting place for all the characters, and I love Ellen and Jo! They're going to have their moments in the story too.

Ooh yes, red is my favorite color and the red plaid/black undershirt Dean combo will never not melt my butter. 😂

AND THE LAST LINE. Lieutenant Winchester. I swear to you, I murmured a "fuck me..." out loud.

🤣🤣🤣 Absolutely love it!! So glad that that line did as intended for ya.

Like, I'm a broken freakin' record at this point, but you are just so good. I am not exaggerating when I say, you are one of the best authors I've ever read--fics, novels, whatever medium.

Oh my goodnessss. You make me blush! 🥰 Thank you so much, lovely. That really did make my day entirely. 💓💓 Thank you for your wonderful comments! And I'm so excited to bring Part 3 for you soon!

Smoke Eater - Part 2

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: I was overwhelmed by the response on Part 1 (in the BEST way). 🥹 Thank you so much for everyone who read and sent me your lovely amazing comments! Here's Part 2 a bit early for ya. 😘

🔥Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,400 Tags/Warnings: Idiots flirting, with a side of sexual harassment. 😪

Part 2: "Lieutenant Winchester"

Firehouse 25 was just as much a house as it was a home.

Especially for Dean Winchester.

In the common room, he sat down at his preferred corner of the sofa with a cup of coffee. By now, the guys knew this was his spot, perfectly angled toward the new flatscreen TV someone donated last month.

Up until then, they’d had to hotwire the same tank from 1995, which had only got basic cable. Now at least the newer smart TV came with a subscription to Netflix, courtesy of the donor. 

Dean raised his favorite Batman mug to his face, expecting to imbibe some rich dark roast. What he got was a travesty.

Spitting out the brown soil water back into the mug, he coughed and grimaced.

“Jack!” he called out.

Jack Kline, the newest addition to the house, raised his head from where he was trying to scramble eggs in the open kitchen directly behind the couch.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” he replied.

“Why does this coffee taste like ass?” Dean asked. His voice was still gruff with sleep, as he depended on his morning coffee to wake him up, not assault his tongue.

Behind him, Jack blinked in confusion. “Uh…”

Dean finally turned around and gave the younger man a raised brow.

“What brand did you buy, Candidate?” he asked.

A candidate was a freshly graduated firefighter on probation. They were the rookie, the bottom rung of the totem pole, and Jack was that proverbial whipping post.

“Um…” Jack went to find the coffee canister he’d put away in the cupboards. He showed Dean the red plastic jug. “Folgers. It was on sale.”

“Fuck me,” Dean muttered. “Never Folgers, Candidate. Anything but fucking Folgers. The one thing we don’t skimp out on is quality joe.”

“That ain’t nothin’ but dirt water, son,” Benny remarked, as he and Gordon entered the common room. Benny held a to-go mug he’d brought from home. After he’d seen what Jack brought for groceries yesterday, he’d taken no chances.

“What you wanna get is Gevalia,” Benny added.

“That European crap?” said Gordon. He took his usual spot at the dining table, leaning back in his chair. It left Benny to sit at the other end of the couch with Dean.

“Better than that piss water you drink,” Benny said with a smirk. Gordon raised a brow at him.

“Tea is medicinal, jackass.” The Black man raised a finger to punctuate his point. “It’s good for you. Unlike that carburetor fluid y’all drink.”

“Whatever, man,” Dean said, even though a grin edged at his lips. “All I know is, we need premium coffee, stat. Or it’s gonna be a cranky shift.”

“I can go to the store real quick,” Jack offered.

Say what you want about the kid’s poor taste in grocery buying, he was always willing to jump in when you needed him.

“Nah, stay on breakfast,” said Dean. “I’ll go afterwards. But remember, today you’re practicing rappelling drills.”

Jack nodded. “And lunch duty. And helping clean the truck, and all the bathrooms…did I miss anything?”

Dean shared a look with Gordon. Not only did he drive the truck, but he was one of the men Dean relied on most, as he had the next highest seniority on the job out of the whole firehouse.

Well, except for Benny Lafitte, Captain of the Rescue Squad. Squad members were considered specialists in complex rescue situations. They were highly trained on more sophisticated technical rescue equipment and rappelling, even scuba diving.

It took long years for a firefighter to make it onto Squad; something that Dean used to have ambitions for. But ever since he got promoted to Lieutenant on Truck 79, he realized that his role in this house was best served on the Truck, not on Squad.

“If he gets through all that, Meg might have something for him too,” Gordon said.

“Oh, don’t bring me into this,” remarked a droll voice. “I’ve already got one pound puppy to look after.”

Their Paramedic in Charge strode in with Chuck on her heels. They’d just pulled into the firehouse driveway on Ambulance 7.

“Nice. That’s how you talk about your partner of three years?” Chuck said with a frown. Meg turned to him with a wry grin.

“Only the ones who can hack it on my Ambo,” she replied. “What can I say. You’re special, Shurley. Either that, or a glutton for punishment.”

Gordon shook his head and looked over at Jack.

“Careful with that one. She chewed and hacked out her last partner in under a month.”

“Poor guy didn’t even transfer,” Dean added, making a “flatlining” motion with his hand. “He just quit. Dropped out of the Fire Academy that same day.”

Not all firefighters were made through Meg’s department, but it was a common route, working as a paramedic while getting put through your paces in the Fire Academy. Dean himself had gone straight to the Academy after getting his EMT certification.

But at Dean’s words, Jack’s eyes widened a fraction. Meg turned to him with an almost feline smile. 

“How was the call?” Benny asked her, speaking of the job they’d just returned from. Meg’s expression dimmed a little, as did Chuck’s as they both sat down at the table.

“Ah, just Henry again,” she said. “Overdosed on his insulin.”

Benny frowned, while Dean shook his head. Jack’s brows furrowed.

“Who’s Henry?” he asked.

Meg sat back in her chair with a subtle sigh. Knowing his work partner’s mood, Chuck answered the young man’s question.

“He’s homeless, lives by the river,” he said. “He’s one of our ‘regulars,’ you could say. When we get the call, usually he’s passed out. Dehydration. But sometimes it’s more serious.”

“You can’t take him to the hospital?” Jack asked in concern.

“Today we did,” Meg said. Her brown eyes met Jack’s, her mouth in a thin line. “But without health insurance, there’s only so much they can do after they get him stable.”

That fell a bit heavily into the room. It wasn’t a pleasant fact, but it was the reality. Jack was learning more and more about that aspect of this job, and learning if he could handle the darker shades of what it could bring.

“Well, breakfast is ready,” he said, bringing a large plate of eggs and toast onto the counter. Dean tossed him an appreciative half-smile and got up from the couch.

“Thanks, kid,” he said, walking over along with everyone else. He took a moment to pat Jack on the shoulder.

“What do you want to do first: run drills, or help me and Gordon wash the truck?” Dean asked.

Jack looked up with a smile. “Can we run drills first?”

Dean nodded, grinning back at him. “Good answer.”

The rest of the Truck and Squad crews ambled in at both the announcement and the smell of food. And before long, the common room was filled with conversation, good-natured teasing, and shitty coffee all around.   

From his vantage point facing the open door to the driveway, Benny caught sight of a young woman heading towards the double doors with a large tupperware bin in hand. Bonnie the receptionist happened to be coming in at the same time. You asked her a question Benny couldn’t quite hear.

“Dean… Oh, you’re looking for Lieutenant Winchester?” Bonnie asked. Her voice tended to carry. “Right in there, hun.”

“Well, that sure is interesting,” Benny murmured with a smile. He glanced over slyly at his friend. “Heads up, brother.”

Dean looked up from his plate of eggs expectantly. Benny gestured over with his eyes, just as you walked into the firehouse, both cautious and unsure of where you were going.

Dean’s brows raised. He found himself setting down his plate and getting up from the couch before he really knew what he was doing.

You looked exactly how he remembered. Though this time, you weren’t coffee stained in your professional blouse and black pencil skirt. His attention drew briefly downwards to your heels, this time solid black (and even taller than the last pair, damn).

He noticed all the same things he had last time: the shade of your hair, pinned up again with a clip as stray pieces framed your face. The way you carried yourself when you finally saw him, straightening with a subtle confidence in your shoulders, even though you looked a bit nervous. And the pretty curve of your lips when your eyes found his.

“Hey, there,” Dean said. He gave you one of his trademark smiles. “Good to see you again.”

“Uh, hi,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you remember me.”

Dean nodded. “‘Course I do. What can I do for you?”

Your face seemed to freeze up a bit as you looked up at him.

“Oh, um, nothing really. I just wanted to say thank you, again,” you said. And you glanced past him, where the rest of the firehouse members were discreetly watching. “All of you, actually. And my friend told me that firefighters really like food…but, I mean, doesn’t everyone?”

You laughed a little, in a nervous way that made Dean struggle not to smile too much.

“Anyway, I like to bake,” you twittered on, “and I had some time this week after…well, you know what happened. So…I brought this!”

You raised up your tupperware with a smile.

And you were damn adorable, Dean thought. His own smile deepened as he glanced down at the offering, then at you. He took the container and opened the lid, and was honestly surprised at what he saw.

He could’ve sworn these were Bonafede, just-poured-out-of-the-box Girl Scout cookies. Dozens of them. He saw shortbreads (complete with the little wavy lines), Samoa cookies with the coconut flakes, and even what looked like chocolate covered Thin Mints. They also smelled delicious.

“Wow. Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, with genuine warmth. “I’m pretty sure the guys are gonna tear these apart the second I put ‘em down.”

Your face brightened, and Dean noticed how it reached your eyes with a bit of a blush.

“Well, I hope you guys enjoy,” you said. Your hands fiddled with your purse next.

“Heading off to work now?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded, with a certain glint in your eye. “I plan on taking the stairs this time.”

Dean raised a brow. “All 22 floors?”

“Gotta get my steps in somehow,” you joked. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to become a repeat offender, make you guys come all the way back across town again.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t mind,” he said, meeting your eyes. And he found that he meant it. In fact, he didn’t think he’d mind if your building’s elevator broke down every damn week.

Your expression shifted towards amusement. “Well, you must be very dedicated to your job.”

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you. He had half a mind to heed his instincts, to take advantage of the signals he thought you were sending him, and ask if he could take you out sometime.

But it was unprofessional here at the firehouse (not that that had stopped him before). He’d been making efforts to curb that kind of behavior for the past few months.

He also remembered the 30 floors of your massive, fancy office building. He considered the price tags that probably came with the admittedly sexy, high-powered corporate look you had going on. Those were probably a lot more zeros than he was used to seeing on his paycheck.

So for once, he didn’t pull the trigger.

“Well, thanks. I really do appreciate that,” Dean replied. His smile then was more sincere, if also more professional. He gestured at the container in his hand. “And on behalf of all the guys, thanks for this too.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “I have to go, but…thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester.”

“Ah,” he shook his head, “just call me Dean.”

You agreed by smiling, just a little bit more.

“Dean.”

He nodded back, sending you off with a smile of his own. He forced himself to taper it down after you left, and he had to turn around to meet his friends. Their grins reminded him of piranhas.

“All right. Out with it, you freakin’ jackals.” He waved his free hand in a “bring it on” gesture.

Meg was the first one to burst out laughing. It spearheaded the rest of them, whooping and catcalling and generally being menaces. Even Jack was grinning at his lieutenant’s expense.

Meg got up from her seat and bumped Dean’s shoulder on her way to the kitchen, where she dumped her dishes.

“Thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester,” she mocked in a saccharine sweet voice. Then she lowered it into an exaggerated mimic of his deeper one, “Call me Dean, baby girl. Fucking priceless. You should get your own Hallmark movie.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He’d been prepared for this, but his face was still getting warm.

“Shut up, Meg,” he tossed back. They all had an ongoing Family Guy joke that never failed to make their PIC narrow her eyes. And she did so now, giving him a fake grimace as she left the kitchen.

“All right, kiddos. If you need me, don’t,” she said. “Chuck! Let’s sort the ambo’s inventory.”

“Got it,” her partner nodded. He too got up and placed his dishes in the sink before he took off after Meg.

This left Dean with the rest of the guys, who still gave him knowing smiles as he set your bin of cookies down on the table. He blew out a breath before he returned to the couch and sat down heavily across from Benny and Gordon.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Dean Winchester bitched out,” Gordon remarked.

Once again, Dean rolled his eyes.

“Truly incredible,” Benny added. He shook his head when Dean just crossed his arms. “She was eying you like a pork cutlet, and you just let her walk outta here.”

“We’re in the house, guys. What was I supposed to do?” Dean groused.

Benny and Gordon looked at him like he’d just denounced Led Zeppelin (his favorite band of all time). 

“Get her goddamn number, Winchester,” said Gordon. The man’s lips curved. “Or at least, introduce her to a brother.”

Dean shot him a glance. Gordon Walker was damn good at driving the truck, but he was also known for being a hunter of the ladies himself.   

“She seemed nice,” Jack put his two cents in with a smile. He was standing behind the couch, leaning his elbows on it. Gordon scoffed, nodding his agreement.

“Yeah, with a fat ass too,” he said, sipping his tea. 

Benny reached over and hit his shoulder to shut him up. 

“That’s a lady, Gordon,” he said. Though a suspect smile graced his lips as he glanced at Dean. “A lady with a nice ass.” 

Dean shook his head, but he couldn’t disagree. The first time he met you, he’d been impressed by the way you stood your ground with your asshole boss. Dean thought you were going to chuck that lethal looking heel at the guy. But behind that steely exterior was a kind little softie.

Today, he got your sweet side. It was equal parts sexy and adorable. 

And damn if you didn’t have a nice ass, nice curves, and a nice mouth. 

But your eyes, he thought. Those were nothing short of beautiful. 

About twenty minutes across town, an apartment building was swarmed by police cars. One unit in particular was sealed off with yellow caution tape as a team of officers drifted in and out. 

What a fucked way to die.

Detective John Winchester observed the unnatural angle that the victim—Jerry Stillwell, a certified public accountant—had his throat cut with a jagged weapon.

It hadn’t been clean in the least. And he’d bled out across his work desk and a stack of papers, as well as his desktop computer. He was 45, unmarried, and murdered in his own home in the middle of a Friday afternoon.

The computer wouldn’t turn on, and not because of the blood. It had been wiped with magnetized technology, most likely by the intruder. Though there was no sign of forced entry, according to John’s partner. The murder weapon was missing as well, though it looked like a knife wound.

John leaned over the on-site medical examiner’s shoulder to peer closer at the man’s wounds. Stillwell had most likely been grabbed from behind. So far, the signs pointed to the culprit being someone the victim knew.

They probably took Stillwell by surprise, but he was a large man. If John had to guess, over 250 pounds, unathletic, but still, not easy to overpower. Likely the suspect was a man over 6 feet; strong, and efficient. Though the messiness of the kill made John think this guy took "pride" his work, so to speak.

“Signs of struggle,” said the M.E. “Skin under the fingernails. He fought back, and…huh.”

John’s interest piqued at the man’s shift in tone. “What?”

“Take a look at this.” The M.E. was holding Stillwell’s right hand, palm-up, revealing a small burn on the inside of the wrist. John’s gaze sharpened on the mark.

“Cas, come here,” he said. Across the room, Detective Cas Novak paused in his task of examining the entry points of the apartment to join John at his side. His blue eyes widened a fraction at seeing the burn. It was a symbol of a snake eating its own tail.

“That makes four,” Cas said.

“Yep. We’ve got ourselves a murder cluster,” John said. Cas nodded. He beckoned John to the side, making sure the M.E. was out of earshot before he spoke. “Isn’t it time we brought Sam up to speed on this, at least?”

John’s brows furrowed.

“No,” he said. “Sam’s an ADA. We don’t go to him until we have someone to indict.”

He walked away from Cas, who frowned. John knew damn well that wasn’t what he meant. This was the fourth murder within six months of this nature. The fourth to be branded with the mark of Azazel…a criminal who supposedly disappeared decades ago.

Shortly after November 2, 1983, the day of Mary Winchester’s death.

Seeing Dean again had gone better than you thought it would. It left you feeling light and downright cheerful when you left the firehouse this morning. Unfortunately, the great start to your morning only crumbled when you reached your office.

Now, even at the end of your day, finally back at home and in the familiarity of your kitchen, the tension headache was back.

“Dre, I’m tired. Can’t we do this another night?” you asked.

Your cell phone was balanced between your ear and your shoulder as you counted out your grandfather’s pills, and placed them in each “Monday through Sunday” box in the blue container.

“No, we absolutely cannot. Because today was horrific,” Andréa said. “For me, because my coworker decided to play hookie on the day our top account needed the mockups of their new website. Never mind that she hadn’t even started.”

Pause for an aggravated breath, through which you frowned in sympathy. She’d told you the entire story over lunch today.

“And for you, because Nick once again displayed why he’s a subhuman neanderthal, in spectacular fashion,” she added.

Your grimace deepened at the reminder.

Earlier today, just before a sales meeting you were set to lead, you’d turned away from the conference table to set up the projector. Nick was early for once, making it just him and you in the room.

He’d sat back in his chair and uttered a remark that set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.

“I’ll tell you what, babe. You sure know how to wear a skirt.”

Your back straightened, and slowly you turned. Your face was set in stone, save for a solitary raise of your brow.

“Excuse me?”

Nick’s smirk was lazy as he kicked his feet up on the table. His hand held a tumbler of whiskey. You noted the half empty carafe, which just yesterday had been full and untouched.

“Fucking fantastic legs,” he said, vaguely outlining your shape with his hand. “I applaud you. It’s all very…sexy secretary. Oooh! Sexcretary. Fucking brilliant.”

You gaped, trying to put a clamp on the furious spike in your blood.

“Are you drunk?” you asked incredulously.

He raised his fingers an inch or so apart, scrunching up his face and trying not to laugh.

“Actually nah, not at all,” he bluffed. 

He let his hand fall back into his lap. You shook your head and set down your papers in order to cross your arms.

“Good. Then you’ll hear me clearly when I say, I’m filing a formal complaint with Billie in HR,” you said.

“Whaaat? Why?” he complained. You huffed incredulously.

“For your little comments, which are getting more and more heinous. Not to mention your excessive drinking during company hours.”

Nick pursed his lips. “Christ on a stick. Can’t you take a fucking compliment?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “What I refuse to take is any further sexual harassment. This isn’t the first incident I could disclose, but I’m damn sure you’ll want it to be the last.”

He kicked his feet off the table and slowly stood. You didn’t want to be afraid of this sloppy, frat boy drunken attitude, but a tendril of trepidation still laced down your spine as you took a step back.

“You could do that,” he nodded, tilting his head. “Or, I’ll give your Zimmerman account to Josh, along with your commission.”

You frowned, and shock made your entire body tense. 

“You…you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. Your insides fairly shook with frustration tinged with anger. “I’ll sue you.”

“With what money?” Nick scoffed.

Your brows knitted together then. How the hell would he know anything about your finances?

The man noted your reaction with a nod.

“Yeah, I know all about grammy and gramps. Surgeries, funerals, treatments…” he said. He leaned against the table with one hand, and still he fairly loomed over you.

He wasn't as broad as someone like Dean, but he was tall and lean. His dirty blonde hair was swept to the side, his blue eyes bearing down on you.

“I am this company. If you don’t like it, you can get the fuck out, sweetheart,” he said.

His gaze lowered, roaming your glowering face.

“And good luck getting anywhere else without a reference from one of the biggest corporations in Lawrence, Kansas.”

You sighed. Yeah, you might’ve shed some frankly embarrassing tears in the women’s bathroom after that. You hadn’t even told Andréa the full story, which included the details of his comments, along with his threats.

You didn’t want her to worry. And maybe, more selfishly, you were embarrassed at having to deal with it at all.

Truth be told, you still didn’t know what the hell you were going to do. About Nick, or your job…but somehow, getting drunk at a bar seemed about the last thing you should be doing.

“I need a drink,” Andréa insisted. “Which means you definitely need a drink. And I know exactly where we’re going.”

After a long moment, you leaned your elbows on the kitchen counter and rubbed through the persistent ache in your forehead. Maybe, just this once, you deserved to forget about reality. Just for a little while.

“Fine. Where?” you asked.

“It’s this great bar Meg told me about. The Roadhouse.”

“Ah, the usual suspects,” Ellen drawled at the men who managed to find seats at her bar, next to the rest of their party. The Roadhouse was packed on a Friday night, but she always had room for these two.

Benny and Dean wore similar tired, but pleasant smiles as they greeted their esteemed barkeep.

“What’s it been, Ellen, a whole shift since I’ve seen your delightful face?” Dean said.

Ellen gave him a mocking smile as she poured him his favorite beer on tap. Dean grinned and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder as he sat down. He and Cas had been waiting for a little while.

…Well, maybe longer than a little.

“Hey, dude,” Dean said. Sam perked up from his second beer with pursed lips.

“You know we’ve been waiting on you for like an hour, right?” he said.

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy,” Dean teased. He nodded his thanks at Ellen when she set his beer in front of him, and a glass of whiskey for Benny. “We had a last-minute call. Some guy just couldn’t wait to start his Happy Hour. Drove his car into the company fountain.”

Sam’s brows raised incredulously. He looked over at Benny for confirmation, and the other man gave a resigned nod.

“Apparently it set the ducks into a tizzy,” he said. “The guy’s fine. Probably gonna get slapped with a DUI.”

Dean smirked and raised a finger at both Sam and Cas. “Duck Guy’s your problem now.”

Cas shook his head and raised his beer to his lips.

“Not my department.”

“Mine either,” Sam scoffed. Both of them worked in homicide cases, just from the differing sides of law and order. In fact, they worked together more often than Dean and Cas did.

Dean looked over at his friend Cas for a moment. He looked like more of a hot mess than usual, with his tie half undone, and a scruffy half-beard covering his face.

“Geez, man. You look like shit,” Dean remarked. “You and Meg fighting again?”

“No,” Cas replied, his brows furrowing. “…Well, yes. But nothing more than her usual insanity. Something about the cat preferring to sleep next to me than to her.”

“Well, that’s not so bad,” Benny said. “My dog don’t like her either.”

“Maybe they can smell that she’s feral,” Dean quipped. Cas sent him a dry look at that.

“She threatened to move out,” he revealed. “Even packed a bag at 3:00 in the morning. I spent two hours unpacking what she was re-packing, all while we argued in our underwear, not sleeping.”

Sam and Dean shared bemused looks, while Benny shook his head into his whiskey.

“So how’d it end up?” Sam asked. Cas sighed and took another long sip of his beer.

“Like it always ends, Sam,” he said, his lips quirking. “With our neighbors calling the precinct to complain, and me, somehow ending up sleeping on the couch for a crime I didn’t commit. If she wants to blame someone, blame the goddamn cat.”

Dean chortled. He brought his beer to his lips, but couldn’t resist a light jab at his best friend first.

“Dude, I love her like a sister, but your girlfriend’s unhinged,” he said.

Cas could only nod. “Most are, I’ve come to find.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head. “Not mine.”

“Yeah, that’s because Eileen doesn’t have to see you more than two minutes at a time,” Dean teased. He and his brother still shared an apartment, and Sam’s job as an Assistant District Attorney wrought demanding hours.

Sam shot his brother a flat look.

“Oh, I’m not taking that from the serial playboy,” he said.

Dean’s brows knitted together.

“All right, calm down,” he said. “I’m not Hugh Hefner.”

“Mr. Hit and Run,” Cas added, a smirk gracing his features.

“Chief ‘No Daddy Issues,’” Benny tipped in, giving his annoyed, green-eyed friend a sly glance. “With a side helping of the Clap.”

Dean’s lips pressed into a line. He leveled a finger at Benny.

“That girl was clean, okay? False alarm,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward as he sipped his beer. Thank Christ for that one. “The rash was just carpet burn.”

Sam shook his head and turned to his brother more seriously.

“Bottom line: until you date a woman for more than two weeks—hell, two days at a time—you don’t get to comment on the happily committed,” he said. 

Dean rolled his eyes. He knew his track record with relationships. As in, he didn’t really have a record…but it wasn’t for lack of trying. At least, not for the past few months.

Sam managed to break Dean out of his thoughts by clearing his throat, pushing his empty bottle across the counter.

“All right, speaking of. I gotta go,” he said.

“Aw, why? We just got here. Let me buy you another,” Dean offered.

Sam shot his brother another knowing look. Dean knew it well; it said, if he’d been here on time, they would’ve shared the first two drinks.

“I’m picking up Eileen,” Sam said, grabbing his blazer and fixing the collar when he put it on. “There’s this Latin club she wants to go to.”

Dean raised incredulous brows.

“My brother’s going salsa dancing?”

Sam sighed in exasperation, despite his smile. “Bye, Dean.”

He shot his other two friends a nod.

“See you guys.”

Cas and Benny both saw him off with a subtle raise of their drinks, while Dean just shook his head.

“All right, Samantha,” he called out. Sam didn’t bother to turn around as he raised up a choice finger behind him.

Dean snorted into his drink. “Very mature.”

Benny and Cas shared a wry look. They were relieved when Ellen’s daughter Jo came by, picking up the slack for her mom, who was serving a rowdy group of college kids at a nearby table.

“Hey, guys. Need another round?” Jo asked. She gave them all a familiar smile, but her eyes lingered on Dean. He gave her a more reserved smile back.

“Hey, Jo,” he nodded. “I uh…actually think I’m good right now.”

“Me too,” Cas said. He even stood up and grabbed his trenchcoat in similar fashion as Sam had. The two had paid for their beers before Benny and Dean even got there.

“Aw, not you too,” Dean groused.

“If I don’t make dinner, we run the risk of the apartment going up in flames,” Cas informed him. Dean couldn’t only assume he was talking about Meg. “Despite working with the Fire Department for ten years, the woman can’t manage to boil an egg without supervision.”

Jo raised a brow, but her smile was bemused as she turned to Benny. “Anything for you?”

“Nah, darlin’. I’m good,” he said. But sensing the unspoken request in her eyes when she glanced at Dean, Benny straightened and raised from his seat. “But I’ll be back. Need’a hit the head.”

Dean internally sighed as Benny left him alone at the bar. Or, well, relatively alone. Jo lingered in front of him to wash and dry out a few glasses. The air between them was stiff, and a little awkward.

Dean’s thoughts shifted back to his brother then; while he still couldn’t believe Eileen had wrangled his gangly Sasquatch of a brother into going dancing, Dean was happy for him. Truly and sincerely. Sam deserved having someone who softened him, made him break away from his endless cases and have some fun.

Dean could also admit, if only to himself, that he was maybe a little jealous. Sam had something good with his girl. Something real.

Dean had carpet burn.

“So, how’s studying going?” he asked Jo. He couldn’t stand awkward silences. “Still planning on giving your mom a heart attack when you get into the Police Academy?”

Jo’s blue eyes flicked up to his. She brushed a coil of blond hair behind her ear after she finished drying a glass, and a smile raised the corner of her lips.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I gave her something to yell about,” she quipped. “But since you asked…my exam is in three months.”

“Good,” Dean nodded. “You’ve got time. Study your ass off. Keep up the conditioning routine I gave you, and you’ll be set. Just don’t forget the strength training. Very important.”

“I got it,” she said, this time with a brighter smile. “Some old firefighter gave me some pointers.”

Dean tilted his beer at her accusingly.

“Hey, don’t pin that old shit on me yet. Benny’s got more mileage than I do…”

He considered her then, after briefly looking down at the counter.

“What?” she said.

He kept his lips tight. “Nothin’.”

“No, Dean. What?” Jo pressed. “You want to say something. Say it.”

He blew out a breath and shook his head.  

“Ellen’s not the only one who’s gonna worry about you on the job, that’s all,” he said. Jo flickered at a rueful frown.

“That’s ironic,” she said. “I can handle myself, Dean. Something you so often seem to forget.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” he shot back. His hand tightened around his beer.

Jo’s face fell into irritation, mostly to cover up the hurt he saw buried deep behind her eyes. She gave him some relief by glancing away from him.

“And this is why we didn’t work out,” she muttered. Sighing through her nose, her eyes met his again. “You know what I hate, more than anything? People worrying.”

Dean carded his fingers through his hair, his brows knitting together in aggravation.

“Yeah, well, maybe they have good reason to,” he said. He could’ve predicted the way she tightened up. “And if I remember right, you did your fair share of hand-wringing the next time I responded to a fire on the job.”

He knew it was a low blow. But his point was made, and he fully expected the anger in Jo’s tight frown. They’d dated for a few weeks, mostly in secret.

That had been enough for Ellen to blow her top. Not because she had anything against Dean…just his job: at the very same firehouse her late husband had once served.

So Dean had backed off. He’d ultimately felt he had to end it. And clearly, Jo still resented him for it.

Slowly, however, the fire in her eyes dimmed. Her finger tapped on her side of the bar counter.

“You think I don’t worry anymore just because we’re not together?” she asked him. 

Dean didn’t have a good answer for her. So his gaze fell to his nearly empty beer.

But he was even more relieved when Benny finally got back from the bathroom, or wherever he’d fucked off to for the past few minutes.

He did seem to know that he was interrupting a rather tense moment. Seeing as neither Dean nor Jo wanted to break the silence, Benny supposed it fell on him.

He reclaimed his seat and raised a smile up at Jo.

“I think I’m ready for the next round,” he said, glancing at Dean’s soured mood. “Two whiskeys, please, Joanna.”

Jo treated Benny with a half-smile. He was the only one besides her mother who called her Joanna (and got away with it). After one last look at Dean, she reached over for the Jim Beam.

You met Andréa at the bar in your own car, just in case you needed to dip out early to check on Grandpa George. He was happy to see you going out.

“You’re pretty as a doll, sweetheart,” he’d said, patting your cheek after you kissed his goodbye.

The thought made you smile, even though you thought you were dressed casually in your dark wash jeans and blouse. When Andréa met you outside the bar, she nodded in approval.

“Good. I like the hint of sexy,” she said, plucking at the sweetheart neckline of your top. You rolled your eyes and tried to cover up the cleavage a little, but she batted at your hand.

“No, no. Leave your professionalism at work,” she said. “Tonight, you’re going to relax and have some fun.”

It was hard to think about loosening up when you were literally getting belittled and threatened at work…but you supposed she had a point. You always had to be put together. You had to be sharp, because this world wouldn’t hand you anything on a silver platter.

And not to mention, you couldn’t just think about yourself. You also had to provide and take care of your grandfather too. He was the only family you had left, and you were it for him too…

But you took in a slow, deep breath. Tonight, you could have a couple of drinks with your friend. You could just be yourself, with no responsibilities other than not getting too drunk to drive yourself home later.

So with a sigh, you smiled and linked your arm with Andréa as you headed inside the Roadhouse.

It looked kind of divey from the outside, a worn-looking brown building with a faded red sign. But inside it was all dark wood and leather barstools and rows of soft lighting overhead.

There were records displayed on the wall; Prince’s Purple Rain, the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper, and David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, among others. Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” played on the wall speakers.

There were several tables, both high top and regular four-seaters, as well as a long bar that spanned the far wall, where rows and rows of liquor were showcased. You followed Andréa’s lead to the bar, where you took a seat at the far end and tried to feel like you belonged here. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to a place like this.

“This is nice,” she leaned over into your ear to say. “Next time my cousin should meet us here. She’s a handful, but I think you’d like her.”

You agreed with a smile. “If she’s anything like you, I think I’m well trained to handle your brand of insanity.”

Andréa leveled you with a playfully mocking look.

“Ah, you’ve got jokes tonight. Okay.” She waved over the blonde bartender.

“Hi, ladies,” she greeted. “I’m Jo. What’re we starting off with tonight?”

Before you could order for yourself, Andréa grabbed your arm and spoke over you.

“Do you have absinthe?” she asked.

Your eyes widened. “What?! I’m not drinking that—”

“Sure do,” Jo replied in amusement.

“Great,” said Andréa. You didn’t like her sly grin. “She’ll have an Aunt Roberta. I’ll have a vodka cranberry.”

“What the hell is an Aunt Roberta?” you asked.

Jo listed the ingredients on her fingers. “A nice molotov of brandy, vodka, gin, blackberry liqueur, and of course, absinthe.”

Jesus Christ. You shot Andréa a glare, even though you were trying to dim your smile.

“Are you trying to chill me out or fucking end me?” you asked.

Andréa smirked. “Whatever it takes.”

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded your agreement. Jo’s smile remained as she went to prepare your drinks. Meanwhile, your eyes wandered as you once again took in your surroundings.

Really is a cool place, you thought. And it was busy without being overbearingly crowded. There were even a few seats between you and the rest of the patrons at the bar. Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.

There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.

That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.

Lieutenant Winchester.

AN: *rubs hands together* It begins. 😏

Lol how'd you like Dean's little moment with the reader at the firehouse? Plus the introduction of the rest of our cast!

(And a possible serial killer on the loose?) Though sorry about Nick. He's a douchecanoe.

Next Time:

Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.

“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”

Andréa huffed in amusement.

“So? That’s half the fun,” she said.

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[kira-fluff]

Heeey!

Saeyoung, Yoosung, Jumin and Zen reacting to to “hotel only one bed” trope ? ♥️

a/n: of course you can lovely! <3 *AHEM* Lemme just say this trope is ELITE and I will NEVER not love it // also, i’m writing it like it’s before they’re dating (OF COURSE) because I want it to be spicy (actually that’s the only thing that would make sense for this prompt but you get my point whatever). ALSO also I’m basing the fancy hotel off my stay at the Ritz Carlton (it was like $25,000 a night) because my grandma couldn’t manage money N E WAYSS. Also, if y’all could let me know whether you prefer Y/N to MC pls lmk k thx 

TW: drunk old lady w/no filter, gets pretty suggestive because I couldn’t help myself, an overbearing aunt, savage Italians, and loud hotel neighbor 

Note: omfg i accidentally made this so long oh well here’s yo present lmao 

“There’s only one bed” PT.1 PT.2

- 

Saeyoung 

Getaway missions are mad cool until you can’t sleep 

When you finally neared the parking entrance to your hotel you were SO looking forward to taking a nice hot shower before shimming into the covers of your crisp, (clean, you hoped) sheets. 

It was past 3AM when Saeyoung finally drove his elegant vehicular device (because what other word is there for it) into a secured parking space 

“Because I don’t trust those shady valets, y/n.” 

“Whatever you say, Seven”, you replied groggily. 

You hauled ass up to the front desk, then to the elevator of the exquisite hotel you were staying at

not that you cared 

because S L E E P 

but Saeyoung likes to quote Jurassic Park (because of course he does) like “I spare no expense, y/n” 

“I’m too tired to laugh” 

*gASP* 

“Not everyone naturally stays up until the early morning light before going to sleep.” 

“It really should become a thing, it’s honestly very iconic of me.” (it’s not)

By the time your conversation ended you were glad to see your hotel number and a little key card slot. 

Saeyoung made a show of sticking the key card in like a spy or something 

it was funny for normal y/n but not for tired y/n 

“Here’s your room, M’lady.” 

He held the door open to your room as you looked around the room 

a large, lush bed set before a ginormous flat screen TV with complimentary expensive chocolates laid before you as well as complimentary take-home elegant towels and slippers. 

suddenly, you heard a knock on the door 

blinking in confusion, you opened to see it was Saeyoung 

“Um.. hey! What’s up?” 

Saeyoung looked a bit bewildered himself before saying, 

“Hey, so, I realized my key card was the same room number as yours and I was like ‘That’s weird!’ so I called the front desk who verified that I had placed a reservation for one room, not two, so I hacked into their system to see what went wrong and if I could change it but it looks like they’re completely booked and I think I had made the reservation before I knew that you had to come along and I’m so sorry” 

he was breathless after the mouthful he just gave you 

As it was 3AM a drunk, old woman was tripping her way to her room and shouted much louder than she should at 3AM, “Kiss her already n’ fuck, ya youngin’s!” 

Saeyoung’s hair now matched his face :) 

His ears were tipped bright red before coughing awkwardly 

“I can sleep on the ground. I’ve done it plenty of times, it’s actually pretty comfy.” 

“Um, Sev’ I’m not going to make you just sleep on the floor. If you want--” 

“You’re not making me, y/n, I want to do this” 

“Actually I think I’ll sleep on the floor, I sleep a lot better on the ground”, you fibbed. 

“You’re sleeping on that big ass bed.” 

“No you are.” 

“If you don’t listen I’ll sleep in the bath tub instead of the floor.” 

“Then I’LL sleep outside the room!” 

“LIKE HELL YOU WILL!” 

“WATCH ME” 

the phone rang, a worker politely asking you to quiet a bit down because even with your luxurious privacy walls, guests could still hear you arguing. 

Saeyoung began whisper shouting, “Guess that settles it.” 

he plopped on the ground, fake snoring with his arm as a pillow

you sighed 

“Fine, if neither of us are going to agree to this then we are both going to sleep in this bed.” 

Saeyoung blushed lightly at your boldness, a tad worried you’d find him creepy or weird

You started again, beginning to undress a little, causing Seven to yelp in panic and turn around immediately, shielding his eyes,

Now in your tank top and your leggings you’d been wearing under sweatpants and a t-shirt, you said, “I’m gonna go take a quick shower and go to bed. I’m so tired.” 

Seven turned around only when he’d heard the bathroom door shut 

he sighed, What am I going to do with this girl. 

By the time you’d come out of the bathroom, drying your wet hair, Seven was lying on the bed, clad in casual t-shirt and jeans. 

“Come on, Saeyoung, you have comfy clothes! It’s okay, change! I’m done in the bathroom now.” 

“Nah, this is fine.” This was not fine. Saeyoung was out of his area of expertise of expecting the unexpected because God you were so unpredictable. 

“Please” you jutted out your bottom lip in a little pout, being sure to make eye contact with him 

Something glowered in his eyes for a split second before he half-smiled saying, “Ah, little Y/n, you know I can’t say no to you when you go all sad on me.” 

He stepped into the bathroom to change, but let’s be honest. He was freaking the fuck out. 

he covered his flushed face, changing into his soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt. he was scared 

the more comfortable he became the more likely he’d accidentally get closer to you and then you’d freak out because you’d hear the sound of his heart beat like it’s a fucking rave concert and then you’d be weirded forever and quite possibly never talk to him again

but on the outside, he stepped out of the bathroom, whipping his phone out with a huge smirk saying, “Smile” 

you threw up a peace sign with your tongue sticking out 

he laughed before sending it to the RFA chat 

707: Sleepover lolol [see attachment]

immediately both your phones blew up with buzzes of notifications from the chat 

you laughed lightly, brushing a stray hair from your face to tuck it behind your ear 

this was gonna be a long night for Seven. 

Zen: UGH get away from her!!!!!!!!!111!!1!!

Jumin: Maybe you should learn to type first. 

Zen: shut it cat freak

Zen: seven answer 

Zen: hey 

Zen: y/n, text “qwerty” if you’re in any kind of danger 

Jumin: What a strange code. 

You: qwerty :(

707: lololololol

Zen: !!!!!

Zen: ASJDHKJFASHFKJA 

Jumin: -_- 

Zen: WE NEED A CAR, NO A HELICOPTER im omw!! 

You: just kidding <3 i’m fine you guys 

707: lololol 

Jumin: Have a bit more faith in your subordinates, Zen. 

You closed the chat and muted your phone, expecting the incoming argument that was quickly to ensue. 

You patted the bed lightly, ushering Saeyoung to lie down next to you. 

He obliged, though he politely laid at the far edge of the left side of the bed. 

You yawned before shutting the light off and whispering a “good night”. 

Saeyoung glanced at the clock. 4AM. Only 15 minutes had passed. You were breathing softly in your sleep within the 10 minutes after you’d said goodnight and here he was still awake. 

You suddenly tousled in your sleep, and Saeyoung raised his head, whispering a soft, “Did I wake you up?” 

You replied with a soft moan before abruptly turning left onto his corner of the bed and grabbing for the first thing you’d felt -- his torso. 

Saeyoung’s breath hitched as he felt you exploring the new found “object”, running your fingers up and down his torso and nearing dangerous areas below 

Saeyoung whisper-shouted, “What are you doing?” 

He leaned closer to hear your reply, but your only answer was more soft little snores 

Saeyoung sighed, trying to lightly grab your wrists without waking you up, and directing toward yourself

no matter how hard he’d try, your arms kept finding his own

your nails would softly ghost over his chest or neck, causing him to shiver and blush profusely 

again, he sighed, trying his hardest not to give into your sleepy state 

until you broke him with a soft utterance, “Sae....young..” 

Saeyoung’s eyes widened to the size of saucers before he dared to look down at you, your hair curling on the bed every which-way.. your mouth slightly agap... 

he groaned, his brows furrowed and his eyes shut

at last he slunk his arms around your torso, being sure to respectfully keep them high around your waist 

he buried his face in the crook of your neck to subconsciously try to hide his ever growing blush (and erection) 

I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this ‘friend’ thing when you’re driving me this crazy, y/n.

You awoke to a sleeping Saeyoung, his toned arms enveloping your small body in a hug

shamelessly, you laid still for a few moments longer. 

Yoosung 

this bean is lonely uwu

so when he’d invited to you go with him on a trip his uncle had paid for, you felt bad saying “yes” because it’s a paid trip!! 

until he begged you because his cousin Chaewon would be there and he was always really pushy and borderline a huge fuck boi 

so you conceded 

but hey free trip for the both of you minus shitty family gatherings with no one you know, right?! 

you hope there’s at least one dog. and alcohol. 

dog + alcohol at a party = an actual fun fucking time 

you were glad Yoosung was there with you because he honestly couldn’t agree with you more 

You opened your beach-side resort room to find there’s only one bed. 

Yoosung blanched and quickly dialed his auntie, who’d made the resort reservations

“Ah...hi auntie! Um, how come there isn’t a separate room for me and y/n?” 

his aunt cackled into the phone, “Aren’t you an old fashioned little gentlemen!!! Awe~~~ you’ve grown up to be such a good boy! <3 Well don’t worry, I won’t say a word to my sister or your pops. Enjoy the time you have with your adorable girlfriend and get it on a little!! I’ve got condoms if ya need ‘em honey~~ Remember dearie, when the shlong is not covered, the child support better be.” 

Yoosung hurriedly hung up the phone, his face completely red, praying you hadn’t heard the conversation that’d just ensued. 

You did 

but you smile and say, “So.. what’d they say?” 

He cleared his throat before saying, “Well, --err.. Basically there’s been a little mishap. B-but don’t worry!! I can just ask Chaewon if I can spend the night in his room.” 

“Didn’t you say he leaves a sock on the door handle every time--”

“YES but I want you to be comfortable, okay! It’s really not a big deal.” 

You shyly smiled while looking down before softly saying, “You can sleep with me.” 

Yoosung’s eyes widened and you quickly looked up, your face flushing to a deep crimson 

“I-I-I meant in the bed!!! With me. We can lie together. In the bed---- I mean we--” 

Yoosung could practically see the steam coming out of your ears and the room felt a LOT hotter 

“S-sure! Sounds great.” he had a feeling if you didn’t agree you’d end up embarrassing yourself further.. and he didn’t want you to feel bad. And he didn’t want those thoughts circulating his mind again. 

“Alright, so I’m going to hop in the shower, y/n... unless you want to go first?”

Gulping down some complimentary water you’d found in the hotel mini fridge, you quickly replied with a shake of your head. 

Nodding, Yoosung make quick work of washing his hair and trying to give himself a pep talk before he would be sleeping next to you. 

Thankful for the big size of the resort bed, you climbed under the covers, already beginning to feel sleep take you 

When Yoosung had at last dried himself off and walked out to the bed area of the resort room, he gazed at how small you looked, hugging a soft pillow in your arms, your eyes fluttered shut 

He looked away, feeling like a creep. 

He shut off the light after making a call to the resort staff to wake him up at 8AM as directed by his uncle’s itinerary

He slid under the covers, shoving a pillow in between the two of you as a little border to separate the two of you 

it wasn’t until further in the night when Yoosung had felt a jolt and he looked up in panic, through the blackness recognizing the pillow-border had been cast onto the ground 

and even more noticeably, your leg was swung over his hip, your body flush to his own 

your arms were snaked around his neck

he felt like he could feel every inch of you

your soft breath just below his ear 

your soft .. er.. chest... against his torso 

your stomach and .. the rest of it... against his own 

Yoosung could not breathe

like someone actually help this man for he is losing oxygen by the minute 

He squeezed his eyes shut and make the executive decision to wait it out til morning 

he was terrified that if he’d move you, you’d wake up and see just how much you affect him. 

And so, when the phone rang that morning, you’d startled, looking up to see your tangled limbs lying on top of his own

“oH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY YOOSUNG UGH IT’S A HABIT OF MINE AHAHHSAHDAJSHS” 

he looked at you with eyes that had noticeable circles under them (darker than even after his LOLOL gaming) 

“you look like you didn’t sleep much.... --- Is it because of me!? Oh my god I’m so sorry you should’ve just shoved me off or something seriously I didn’t mean to do it on purpose, honest!!” 

“N-no, no it’s really not!! I promise!!” He tried his best to grin, though it probably looked like a grimace, because the next thing you said was, “I’ll make it up to you” 

“You don’t need to do that. Really, I liked it.” 

It took a moment for him to realize what he just said. 

“I-I mean I like you! I mean I liked sleeping with you!!! I mean--!!” 

Yoosung was quickly spinning circles in his mind 

you couldn’t help the little giggle that came out of your mouth, “I guess we’re pretty similar, huh?” 

Yoosung smiled lightly, “Yeah, guess so.” 

You walked out together toward the breakfast area of the resort

“Hey”, you started, “Is.. Did you mean what you said? About liking me?” 

Yoosung glanced away, taking a deep breath before saying, “Yeah, yeah I did. I really like you.” 

You couldn’t hold back the big ol’ smile that took over your face as you proudly declared, “Me too!!” 

Right when Yoosung was going to go in for a kiss, he saw his auntie suddenly right next to the both of you 

“Oh my GOD when did you get here?!” 

She smirked, “My question first, dearie, what did you two like?” 

Neither of you answered, your cheeks growing red 

“You know, the first time your uncle did it with me I felt the same way. Like, what a man! Must run in the fam--” 

“OKAY! THANK YOU FOR THAT AUNTIE BUT BREAKFAST IS CALLING MY NAME MM SMELLS GOOD SEE YOU LATER.” 

Your blush didn’t leave you as you smeared strawberry cream cheese on your toasted bagel 

This trip was going to be very VERY difficult. Thank God there was alcohol. And Yoosung. And probably dogs. And Yoosung. 

Yeah. 

Gotta love relatives. 

Jumin 

You received a call from a stern voice you didn’t recognize

<<“Hello. This is Mr. Han’s chauffeur. I’m approximately 6.3 miles away from your residence. Do not worry about clothes or other necessities. All will be provided for you.”>>

“Uh.. thanks? Where....?” 

<<“Mr. Han has invited you to join him on his stay at the Ppalgan Vineyard Estates. Have you not received the notification?”>>

You glanced at your phone, seeing two unread messages on your phone. 

You read them, feeling bad you hadn’t seen them before. 

“Yes, yes of course. Thank you. Tell him I said thank you. Are you sure it’s okay for me to attend?” 

<<“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Han gave me specific instructions to assure you would be able to come with him. I have been ordered to give 2 minute updates following your being picked up. I can assure you, it is his utmost wish that you join him this weekend. I’d be honored to thank him on your behalf, though I feel it would mean much more to him if you said it to him rather than me.” >>

“You’re right, thank you. And thanks for driving me. And for all the other stuff you said”, you replied nervously. 

<<”There is no need to thank me, Miss. I am glad to serve Mr. Han in anyway I can.”>>

The call hung up before you could spout out more thank yous 

you phone buzzed, startling you. 

you clicked the notification

<<(XXX-XXX-XXXX HAN COMPANIES) I’ve arrived at your residence. Let me know if there is anything I can carry for you. Sent 13:52>>

You quickly texted a reply of gratitude before rushing down the stairs out of your apartment, not wanting to make Jumin’s chauffeur wait. 

“Good to see you Miss Y/L/N. Is there anything I can get you? I have been given orders to purchase anything you may want or need on our way to the airport.” 

He quickly texted something on his phone, presumably a text to Jumin about your safe arrival to his limo.

“A-airport? You mean, like, flying? Are you sure I don’t need my wallet? It’s not too late for me to go grab it, right? I have my debit card on my phone too, otherwise.” 

“Miss Y/L/N you are not to spent a single won on this vacation. All is paid for.” 

“But my clothes... I don’t want Jumin to have to pay for all new things!!” 

"I assure you, money is not something Mr. Han wishes for you to be concerned with.” 

You’d stayed silent at that, feeling bad that you’d already bothered the poor man who’d just been ordered to drive you, not reassure you of Jumin’s financial affairs. 

You grew quiet, looking out the window as trees, streets, and cars zoomed past you. 

“If you so wish, there are numerous meals options in the compartments below the seats as well as alcohol, carbonated beverages and iced water glasses. You are, of course, welcome to any of these. Please do not hesitate to notify me if there is something you’d like instead. We’d glad to make it a regular option in all of our limousines.” 

You flushed, embarrassed at the amount of power Jumin’s words, and effectively, your own seemed to have on the entire Han Conglomerate as a whole. You laughed a little, it was funny thinking to yourself that you had so much power as to decide snack options for Jumin’s cars. 

Jumin was extra like that, he always went above and beyond to make you comfortable. You loved that about him. It made you feel a little spoiled, so you instinctively rejected most offers at things that seemed to further complicate his worker’s duties. 

You had no idea that when the chauffeur had said airport he meant the Han Private Airway Transportation Zone. 

As in... private jet. 

It was hard not to feel like you were in a whole different world. 

Not that Jumin treated you that way... but it was hard not to notice! 

You bowed in thanks to the driver before hastily finding your way to the nearest man standing in another black suit, his hands folded together in front of him. 

As soon as you uttered your name, his whole demeanor changed and he instantly had gone from cool and collected to humble and overwhelmingly kind. 

He’d quickly made his way to the boarding area, escorting you to the jet before leaving you at a polite distance way from Jumin who’d been looking at you from the moment you’d entered the aircraft. 

His eyes searched your own as you’d yet to discover his presence 

He couldn’t help but rake his eyes up and down your body, admiring the way you could look just in anything. 

He at last saw you searching the spacious cabin, at last laying eyes on him. 

His heart pounded faster, as if your noticing him made his heart leap in joy

You looked relieved and smiled, running over to him and sitting down next to him 

“Hi Jumin!! Oh, should I be calling you Mr. Han? That’s what your chauffeur called you.. sorry if that’s what I should’ve been addressing you as!!” 

His deep voice rumbled in your ear, causing you to shudder, “Jumin is fine.” 

You gazed up at him through your lashes, noticing the way his perfectly tailored vest made him look so... well... for lack of better word...hot. 

“Wow. You look...” Your eyes moved from his hair, to his face, to his neck, to his torso, slowly to his groin, to his legs... before you realized what you’d been doing and quickly your eyes shot up again. 

You bit your lip, “You look nice.” 

“Nice?” 

You laughed shyly, and slightly (embarrassingly) breathless, “Yeah. Yeah you do. Nice.” 

Jumin couldn’t help the sly smile he’d been holding back before replying, “You look beautiful.” 

You flushed and looked down, squirming in your seat a little before looking at him once more, offering a small, “..thank you..” 

After a few minutes of silence, you’d decided to change the subject, chattering on about how you wondered what this mysterious vacation would hold 

Jumin couldn’t help is concentration half on every word you were saying, but also your lips. Slowly licking his own, he nodded along when you’d gotten especially enthusiastic, grinning slightly when you’d gotten so excited you’d leapt out of your luxury seat. 

Within a half hour of the trip to your destination in Italy, Jumin had trouble concentrating on much else. 

Get it together, Jumin, you’re not some fool like Zen. 

It’d gotten worse the more you’d leaned further in your seat, your chest becoming slightly exposed

he covered his mouth with a hand, opting for looking out one of the many windows of the jet. 

You’d always caught his attention and made him lose his focus -- something he’d never lost before he met you 

He blamed the strawberry sent that you’d always carried with you 

He wasn’t much for expensive, faux perfume that so many of his father’s skanks would wear... it was like no other. 

After a few hours of grueling torture on your part (though you hadn’t know every single time you’d grabbed his hand or arm it’d sent his heart on a sky dive) Jumin was glad to have arrived in the gorgeous Italian acreage of the countryside. 

It was even more beautiful at the dusk of night, you’d decided 

Immediately a shiny vehicle pulled up, ready to transport you and Jumin to the estate you were to be residing in for the weekend. 

Upon pulling into the culdesac, you almost scoffed at the word “estate” -- it was more of a country in and of itself, land stretched beyond what you could see 

The mansion itself stood on pillars and high, Gothic windows. 

Inside, flying buttresses decorated the building, giving it an elegant and aged ambiance that you just adored 

“It’s so beautiful.” 

He smiled at you then, watching you take in the wonders he’d realized he took for granted. 

He was then directed to a double-door entrance way, “Your room, Mr. Han, Miss Y/L/N.” 

“Separate, correct?” 

The man stood in surprise, looking slightly aghast, “T-they never specified such details.” 

“Contact them immediately to confirm. I’ll work it out from there.” 

“Yes, Mr. Han.” From there, the man scurried away to contact the head of the estate. 

After a few moments, he returned, “The Rossi Conglomerate had assumed that you’d brought your fiance with you.” 

“Did you mention I don’t have one?” 

“Y-yes, of course! But, Mr. Han, your father--”

Jumin sighed, “I’ll take care of it.” with a wave of his hand, the man was gone 

You thanked him on his way out. 

Jumin looked at you, searching for a reaction of displeasure or worry

When he didn’t find one, he began, “I was notified the Rossi had booked their other estates to their American investors. My being here is a formality, but it is business. It would be a great discourtesy to demand--” 

You smiled reassuringly, “Jumin, don’t worry about it.. we’ll share the bed, okay?” You held your hand in his own, rubbing soothing circles on his knuckles. 

Jumin looked at you, choking on his spit slightly. 

“Y/N you do understand that--” 

“It’s fine, Jumin!! It’s late already, I’ll just put up my hair.. and.. do you know where the night clothes would be?” 

He watched as you fixed a bobby pin between your teeth before running your fingers through your hair, watching as you arched your back to-- 

“Jumin? ...you don’t know?” 

He cleared his throat, looking away, pink dusting his cheeks

“Bathroom.” 

You thanked him, unaware of his watchful eyes 

It had been a few seconds since you’d entered the bathroom before he heard a loud and alarmed, “..UM....JUMIN...?!” 

He’d quickly made his way into the bathroom

“What’s wro--” 

He looked and laying on the long granite island of the large bathroom was a silky set of lingerie as well as a note in Italian you couldn’t read. 

Jumin’s words stopped dead on his lips as he stared at you, then the silky underwear set, you, silky underwear, you.......silky underwear. 

On the outside, Jumin liked to think he came off as calm and collected, saying, “I can get you something else to wear.” 

But when he’d made it two steps out of the bathroom he had a little collision. And by collision, I mean his face.. and the wall. 

He looked in every drawer, finding nothing. He presumed clothes would be delivered as specified. But it was late already.. their servants are dismissed, only the protective guards surrounded the inside and outside of the estate.. explaining the situation to them didn’t seem very promising. 

Of course you were kicking yourself, before you’d found their little....gift... you’d cast your days clothes into the washer. They were probably soaked by now. 

Maybe I could use a hair dryer...? Or I could stuff them in the dryer?? 

Either way you’d be without clothes for.. too long. 

And nothing would be greater punishment then showing all that in front of the man you had completely fallen for... 

You heard a knock on the bathroom door. You listened from inside. 

“Hey, I, uh, couldn’t find anything. Do you think you could wear your clothes from today?” 

You whimpered, on the verge of tears, “I already put it in the washer!” 

He knocked again, “Can I hand you something?”, he asked, undoing the buttons of his formal shirt. 

“C-close your eyes!” 

Jumin chuckled darkly before covering his eyes and handing her his collared shirt 

“I’d give you the pants, too, but I don’t think they’d really fit you. Could you look at what they’d provided for me? Maybe slip on something from mine.” 

“N-no! That’d be even worse for me!! .. and you!” You blushed again imagining him half naked

You hurriedly shuffled through the drawers, but to no avail. 

You gulped, slipping on the lingerie to ensure that maybe something would be covered before buttoning Jumin’s formal shirt on you as well. 

it was so big it didn’t leave much for the imagination 

but you decided through a 10 minute pep talk that you’d suck it up and try your best to make his shirt into a night gown. 

You at last stepped out of the bathroom, Jumin’s head shooting toward the sudden noise before taking you in 

He could scarcely breathe, much less come up with a coherent sentence 

you were in his shirt... 

with barely any clothes on underneath

and you looked up at him shyly, biting your lip a little 

drawing even more attention to your lips 

Jumin had to stifle a groan, opting to head to the bathroom to change

After splashing some cold water on his face in a poor attempt to get his head out of the gutter, he quickly got on his pjs 

after you both were ready for bed, Jumin sat on the bed, opening a small novel he’d been enjoying, Anthem.  

His attention was immediately diverted from the dystopian fiction when he saw you were stretching

His shirt rode up high as he took in the way the lingerie perfect accentuated your curves, though it didn’t cover much below the waist 

Noticing your folly, your eyes widened in shock before you immediately put your hands down

which, just your luck, made it all worse. 

the sudden movement disheveled the shirt, causing it to ride down completely on one side, openly displaying the soft brassiere beneath it 

Jumin slammed his book so hard it left an echo in the large room. 

Great. He couldn’t even make it look like his book was suddenly unbelievably interesting that he just so happened to not take notice of the obvious sight before him.

You blanched, feeling a breeze along your shoulder, gasping before running to your side of the bed and pretending you don’t exist anymore 

Meanwhile Jumin is in a  c r i s i s 

In the most eloquent of words, his mind said holy fucking motherfucking shit oh my God fuck fuck fuck AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH oh my god shit shit shit fuck shit sdfasodjgiajsidogjosdg MALFUNCTION!! WARNING!!!! RUN BITCH!!! 

But Jumin didn’t run

because mama ain’t raise no bitch 

but also because if he stood up it would be blatantly obvious that he had-- 

Stop thinking about it, Jumin.

He tried to redirect his mind to his 5 senses, a grounding technique he’d learned when he got too anxious when he was younger 

But sight seemed to dominate it as his mind replayed your facial expressions, the way your hands awkwardly tried to cover yourself up, the way you looked the way he’d take it all off--- 

Oh God. I’m deep in shit. 

He had never been so pissed at himself... and embarrassed. 

He looked over at you, a horrible decision, really. 

You were still awake, your face was redder than the strawberry sent that adorned you 

“s-sorry..” you whispered, willing yourself to try to forget, “pretend that never happened..” 

Jumin was practically feral and you were saying it never happened? 

Jumin couldn’t just pretend he didn’t just see a fucking goddess 

but he would for you 

“..........pretend what never happened?” 

You sighed, a small smile on your face as you quickly turned to thank him 

but he was a LOT closer than you imagined 

he was propped up on one elbow, looking down at you, his head slightly angled. 

And suddenly your faces weren’t so far apart.

And you couldn’t help but slowly close your eyes 

Jumin felt confusion when you’d done this

he can be a bit of a pea brain, so he of course said, “I’m sure you’re very tired.” 

He shut off the light, reaching over you 

You held back the big frown you’d gotten when you realized he’d rejected you 

unbeknownst to you that it took everything in him, from the moment he’d saw you in the jet cabin, not to scoop you up in his arms and make out with you the whole way there. 

Zen 

Was Zen going to invite you to his own fucking tour? 

Of course he was 

he liked flexing his connections 

and most of all, showing you just how much he cared about you 

and loved you

but not the love part because God if you ever found out Zen might jump into the nearest body of water and never return 

not that he didn’t have any confidence

he has lots of it 

but it all kind of disintegrates when he gets to talking about his real feelings

But come on, it was blatantly obvious to anyone who had heckin eyes 

or ears 

or just any functioning body 

the way he’d try to subtly throw an arm over your shoulder 

or he’d lean in whenever you spoke 

or the way he’d readjust his posture when you walked into a room 

or the way everyone caught him staring 

like anytime you weren’t looking 

or when you are looking because he is “built different” 

So the limo ride to the fancy hotel he was to stay at was something that had him looking forward to the tour, but also dreading it 

you’d sat close to him in the limo because his agent and other workers were sitting along with him. 

So close that your ass got pushed further and further onto his lap

because damn where the fuck are we and why are there so many goddamn potholes 

Zen tried to steady you by firmly grabbing your hips 

which was NOT the move 

because now that you were firmly set on his lap, every bump felt like a fucking war against his hormones. 

Like a gentleman, he quickly opted to seat you next to him, not wanting you to feel embarrassed 

still, he could feel you being pulled closer to him with every long turn the limo made or every bump or abrupt stop 

and it was torture. 

like this man is sweating 

but by some miracle you arrive at the hotel in one piece! Yay! 

but Zen’s soul has left his body~~ 

so you get set up 

You open the room, “Look, Zen! This bed is HUGE!!”, you ran over to it and plopped your face onto the sheets

He chuckled, watching you act like a little kid excited about a hotel for the first time 

his brows furrowed when he realized there was no door separator between your rooms 

He immediately called the front desk 

all you could over hear was “No, there seems to be some kind of mistake” 

and “I reserved two rooms -- conjoined” 

“Alright, ok. Thanks.” and then he hung up. 

“So..” he sighed, “They can’t get another room because they’re completely booked. Someone must’ve recognized the limo and lots of fans immediately bought up all the rooms in hopes of seeing me.”

“It’s alright Zen! I can ask to switch with your agent or something!!” 

“NO!” Zen said a little too loudly. “No. Um, look it would be bad because he’s a man.” 

“Your a dude, too, Zen.” 

“I-- yeah, but that’s different because I’m a guy you can trust.” 

“True..”

“So I’ll sleep on the couch, ‘kay?” 

“Zen, no! You need your beauty sleep to be ready for your performance tomorrow!!!” 

“It’s alright, really!”

“I’ll sleep on the couch!” 

“Like hell you will.” 

“Please :(”

“Y/N, seriously--” 

“Then how about this! You and I just sleep in the same bed!” 

Ever the dramatic soul, Zen gasped with his palm over his heart “How SCANDALOUS!” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be Mr. Playboy?”

“Only for you, baby”, he winked. 

You stuttered, “T-that’s not funny! Seriously don’t make it weird you horn- dog!” 

He threw his head back in laughter, “Horn-dog?! I thought you said you trusted me!” 

“Not when you’re obviously thinking about doing this and that to me!!” 

“Doing this and tha---Hey! Who do you think I am?!”

There was suddenly a loud bang on the wall and a burly man shouted, “GO TO FUCKIN’ SLEEP YOU OBNOXIOUS, SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED LITTLE SHITS!”

You smirked, holding in a laugh saying, “Sounds like your fans are getting jealous.” 

Zen’s mouth dropped and you began laughing hysterically 

“T-that was like a 60 year old man!” 

“I’M 42 YOU LITTLE SHIT” 

You fell back on the bed, laughing louder 

Zen shouted back, “WELL EXCUSE ME, SEXY, 42 YEAR OLD MAN” 

There was silence before a harsh knock sounded at your door 

All Zen’s bravado disintegrated and he made a dash for the bed, whispering loudly for you to “Turn off the fuckin’ lights, turn off the fuckin’ lights!” 

You stifled more giggles rising up to your throat as you clicked off the light, making sure the room was locked, and climbed into bed

you breathed out your last laughs, sighing to yourself contentedly before noticing the close proximity you were to Zen 

You stared at each other for a long moment 

You leaned in closer 

Zen placed a palm on your cheek, gently cupping it

he softly whispered, “Can I kiss you?” 

You answered by harshly connecting your lips

The two of you feeding off each other’s oxygen as Zen bit your lip, causing you to gasp and open your mouth to make way for his tongue 

you whimpered, feeling faint from lack of oxygen

the two of you parted, out of breath 

Zen wanted to say something smooth like “I’ve always wanted to do that.” 

but instead he said “I’ve always wanted to do you.” 

He mentally smacked his head, blaming the lack of oxygen for his stupidity

But you smirked up at him coyly, replying, “Then why don’t you?” 

Um yeah rip your hotel neighbor he will literally hate both of you so much 

I had honestly SO MUCH FUN writing this!! Let me know if you want, like, a part two to this. I think I’d just be so fun lol

[newtonsheffield]

GG kanthony sent Tom a sex tape?!?????? 😭😭😭😭 I cant that’s hilarious

Kate did, yes.

She’s not especially proud of the fact she attached the wrong file and didn’t realize until after she sent the email.

And she didn’t! exactly think her father would take kindly to seeing his nineteen year old daughter with her legs around her boyfriend’s neck and then getting a front row seat to getting railed from behind so she knew what she had to do.

The first call she made was to Anthony who didn’t pick up because he was at work. Just a quick,

“Hey honey, it’s no big deal but I accidentally just sent my Dad our sex tape. Okay! Love you!”

And the second, she made with an even bigger sigh.

“Ahh Katie, is Anthony dead? There’s no other reason you’d be calling me like a geriatric instead of texting.” Edwina’s voice crackles through the phone and honestly, Kate wants to die.

“He’s not dead yet but if you don’t help me, he might be.”

“Go on.”

“I sent… a video to Dad’s email, I need you to delete it.” Jesus if the ground could open and swallow her that would be the preferred option.

Silence echoed on the phone for a very long moment before Edwina let out a loud cackle, her breath wheezing in her chest. “Jesus fucking- tell me you didn’t send your sex tape to dad.”

Kate’s cheeks are on fire. “I… didn’t mean to send my sex tape to Dad”

“This is the best day.”

“Edwina! Please! Just help me! I would do it for you.”

“You don’t need to do it for me. I don’t have any sex tapes.”

“I should hope- I’m not going to be shamed by you!”

Edwina let’s put a sigh, but Kate hears her making her way through the house, the door of their father’s study opening and closing. “You owe me for this. The thumbnail better not be foul- nope, of course it’s of your tits. I want 4 of Sophie’s cheesecakes for this!”

“Yes yes! Go to the bakery and pick them up, you’re the best.”

“And Anthony needs to get me a book voucher, a saw a flash of peen there!”

The third phone call Kate makes that day is to Sophie at the bakery.

“Gibbons Family Bakehouse, this is Sophie.”

“Soph it’s me, Eddie’s gonna come in a pick up some cheesecakes from you, Four of them. I need to pay for them.”

And of course Sophie knows. “What did you do that has you buying her four cheesecakes?”

Kate sighs, “I… sent my Dad a sex tape. Eddie had to delete it. Stop laughing.”

Sophie cackled, her breath coming in short gasps. “Holy Shit, so Tom’ll be in jail for Anthony’s murder by the weekend then?”

“He won’t because he didn’t see it!”

“Will Violet be getting the same treatment?”

“Will you just take my credit card details?!”

And unfortunately for Kate, the fourth call was one she received.

“Peanut, I’m really glad we’re so close, and you know I think Anthony’s a great guy, but there are some things I don’t need to see.” Her Dad’s voice sounds a little strained and she can hear Mary in the background saying Take deep breaths, she’s an adult.

Truly, truly death would be kinder. “Eddie deleted it!”

“From my computer. I’d already opened it on my phone: I have you on notifications.”

“How did you even learn how to do that, Dad?!” Not the point but she’d rather focus her attention there.”

“I’m not that old!”

“Well why did you press Play?!”

“I didn’t! It auto played when I scrolled and The thumbnail was damning enough, Katharine!”

And truly, that next visit to Kent was the most awkward experience of her entire life.

[cloud-9ine]

Cable Shocks

⤷ pairing - denki kaminari x reader

⤷ fandom - bnha

⤷ warnings - slight angst, hurt/comfort, illness, exploitation

⤷ summary - you notice the other class 1-a students using denki’s quirk for their favours, and you catch him later paying the price

⤷ word count - 3.2k+

Denki Kaminari was a giver.

He gave his help, he gave his laughter, he gave his love, and recently, he was beginning to give himself, too.

It started off innocently: he showed the Class 1-A students his party trick- look at that, he can charge phones! After that, the others had regularly come to him in need of their devices being charged, or electricity constantly pumped into something that only he could provide. And Denki, being a giver, well, he never said no.

It didn’t matter to him that it would make him short circuit, it didn’t matter to him that they would laugh, it didn’t even matter to him that all he could taste every evening was acid.

Denki Kaminari was a giver, and he was prepared to give his life.

Your class common room was never empty. At any given time, there was always at least two of your classmates in there- no exceptions. If you wanted to make tea in the early morning, Iida and Yaoyorozu would greet you with beaming grins unbecoming of such an unnatural time. Alternatively, if you wanted to cry at 3 AM, you would lay your eyes on Tokoyami and Jirou plunged into the darkness, leaving you to wonder whether they were just acting off or if they were summoning a demon to curse those who have wronged them.

At this moment, Denki was sat on the centre sofa, three cables stuck between his teeth. Beside him sat Mina, eagerly chatting to Kirishima who sat opposite to her on a plush chair with Sero lounged over the arm of it. The three looked content, but you couldn’t help but notice the stiffness at which Denki was disposed, concentration knotting his brows as he worked on keeping the sparks flowing through the wires.

You slipped into the room, deciding on the space on the other side of Denki. The other occupants of the room gave you a quick hello before returning to their previous conversations. With the exception of Denki, obviously, who seemingly forgot his task the moment he heard your name mentioned. His eyes sparkled once he saw you, his head turning to the side as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Hey, Kaminari, you’re dropping the wires!” Sero snickered, eyeing up the way Denki looked down in alarm.

“Only 27%? Come on, I need more than that!” Mina whined, shoving the cables back into the spooked boy’s mouth. He looked at you apologetically, attempting to convey something with wild gestures that you couldn’t begin to comprehend. You laughed, patting the top of his head to quell his struggles.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just chill, yeah?” He paused, dropping his hands to his lap and nodding. You grinned, bumping your shoulder against his before pulling your phone out. Denki squinted at the object, as if it had personally offended him. Grinning, you shook your head.

“Fully charged. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” His expression softened, cheeks glowing a slight pink at your words. You shifted slightly to get more comfortable, ending up slumped against Denki’s side, who in return leaned into you.

“And so basically, I told him he was nuts, right?” The careless ramblings of Mina was enough to get you to relax, scrolling aimlessly through your friend’s Instagram posts. Ochako had posted a weirdly aesthetic picture of mochi, Midoriya had posted a picture of Ochako, Iida was posting about cyber-bullying, the works.

Being in physical contact with Denki while he was in charging mode, you noticed, made your hair float up like static electricity. You didn’t mind this, taking to flattening down your hair every once in a while during your relaxation. It was easy to let go with your classmates- the gentle lull of the voices of the others mixed with the pleasant buzz of Denki’s skin against yours made for a comforting experience that almost made you fall asleep.

“Hey dunce face!” Denki jumped at the sound of Bakugo’s voice, his elbow jutting into your side and forcing you to tense up. He didn’t seem to notice your subtle glare, however, as his attention was focused on the other boy that had slammed open the door (not that Bakugo seemed entirely angry today, but it was just his natural disposition that made every action of his aggressive).

“H-Hey bro! What’s up?” Bakugo didn’t respond to Kirishima’s words, further ignoring the similar muffled greeting that Denki managed to let out.

“I need this charged,” he grumbled, moving to Denki and shoving a fourth wire in his mouth. You frowned, eyeing up the two boys wearily. The screens of the current phones flashed, an indication that he wasn’t putting in enough charge. He gulped as Bakugo stomped back out the room, his eyes squeezing shut as he amped up the electricity.

As if a switch had been flipped, Denki’s blonde locks frizzed up before succinctly falling back down to his head. You stared at him, eyes widened as the wires dropped to the ground.

“Wheeeee!” His body fell into you, thumbs sticking out with a goofy smile painted onto his face. A small smile pushed passed your lips as you grabbed a pillow and placed it under his head just as he fell off your shoulder and into your lap.

“Oh my god! He’s buzzed out!” Mina cackled, grabbing her phone to snap a couple of photos as the others laughed.

“I love the guy, but my god is he dumb.” You bit your lip at Sero’s grin, angling Denki’s head away from the camera and raking your hands through his hair. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling his face into your stomach as he rambled about something to do with being okay. It was hard to understand him in this state.

“Come on guys, not cool.” You mumbled, using your sleeve to wipe away a bit of drool on Denki’s chin.

“Ah, cheer up (Y/N)! He does this all the time- it doesn’t matter!” Kirishima’s words made a pit coil in your stomach, nausea prickling your throat.

“It doesn’t matter. Leave him alone.” Mina rolled her eyes.

“God, it’s not a big deal. It’s his own fault, anyway.” You couldn’t help the annoyance that fuelled the glare in your eyes, but you pushed it down with a harder bite to the inside of your cheek. There was the burst of something metallic that tinged your tongue, but you ignored it.

“Come on, Denki. Let’s go,” said boy didn’t seem to recognise your words until you propped him up so you could stand up before pulling him off the sofa. Seemingly slightly resigned by your actions, Mina dropped her phone into her lap, looking away. This didn’t stop the other two from laughing, however, the volume of their cackles only increasing as Denki fell into your back.

With a groan, you shoved your shoulder into the door to open it and letting Denki clamber through. You painstakingly led him into his dorm room, redirecting him away from every wall he tried to run into and each piece of furniture he rammed into his abdomen. Your phone was blowing up with notifications, but you elected to ignore that as you made sure he didn’t hit his head as he fell onto his bed.

You wrote him a quick note and stuck it on his door, turning around to make one last check that he wasn’t going to kill himself the moment you stepped out the door.

Come find me when you’re back to normal.

“(Y/N)…” he whined, hands reaching out for you as he rolled onto his side, eyes sparkling once he saw you. You sighed, moving to brush a strand of his hair behind his ear.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” It didn’t seem like he quite understood what you said, but the compliant nod and shining smile was enough to convince you he would be okay.

AlienQueen: [ATTACHMENT SENT]

[TheRaven, StarMan, MyChemicalHeadphones and 10 others liked this photo]

PinkQueen: guys!! look at kami asjadoawdhd

ALiteralRock: haha! you shoulda been there

Froggi: He’s been doing that more lately

Invisibitch: Good! It’s so funny!

PinkCake: hes so cute <33

GreenCake: It’s interesting how Denki has been ‘buzzing out’ more, but I suppose if he’s been using his quirk more often outside of training he could be slowly building a resistance.

BoomBoomBoy: Shut up.

IidaTenya: I sure hope he is safe!

TapeMan: nah, (Y/N) got im

You didn’t see Denki for the rest of the day.

When you stirred from your sleep, it was still dark. You felt a warmth building below your skin that spurred you to strip of your blanket, allowing it to fall into a crumpled heap onto the floor before creeping out the room. In the dead silence of the night, each one of your footfalls sounded like a bang to a drum.

The common room was empty that night. You squinted through the darkness, feeling your way to the sink to pour yourself a glass of water. You stilled in the quiet for a moment, letting the movement settle as you took a sip. There was always a sort of ringing once it got quiet enough, a small reminder that despite the fact you were alone in the dark, there was still something going on.

Click.

At the end of the hall, a light turned on, the orange glow a stark contrast from the deep shadows that plagued the area. You heard a quiet shuffling, before a muffled gagging sound rang out.

Eyes widening, you rushed as quietly as you could down the hall, nearly crashing into the door as you shoved your way into the bathroom.

Hunched over the sink, chest racking with coughs and gags was Denki, his eyes teary as they struggled to focus on you. A dark substance, almost completely black if it were not for the slightest translucency, dripped from his parted lips and into the basin, clashing against the pure white marble.

You clapped a hand to your mouth, willing down the tears that welled in your eyes.

“Denki… what?” You choked out, voice hoarse from the dryness that stung your throat. Denki attempted to push himself up, hands trembling and knuckles white as he gripped the side of the countertop.

“(Y/N)…” his voice shook as he reached up to wipe his mouth, taking a step back from you in a vain bid to pass you and leave. You quickly snapped the door shut, no longer caring whether you woke anyone up.

Click.

Denki weakly chuckled at the look on your face. The lock. He closed himself into the corner of the room, pressing his back against the wall.

“Look, I’m fine-“ He was cut off by himself, lurching back over the sink and coughing up more of the liquid.

“What is that?” You questioned, silent horror pinching your features. He turned on the tap, filling his hands with water and washing out his mouth. Darting to the toilet- and struggling to move in such closed quarters- you balled up a handful of toilet paper and wiped his mouth. He leaned into your touch, skin emanating heat and covered by a thin sheen of sweat.

“Battery acid.” You felt your knees go weak.

“What?”

“It’s battery acid. The more I overuse my quirk, the more likely this stuff is to accumulate in my throat,” he looked away from your piercing gaze, “it’s okay, really.”

“What part of this is okay?” You spat, voice wavering. Denki winced at your tone, turning to washing his mouth out with more water, “Does it hurt?” He paused, and that was all the confirmation he needed.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, only the sound of running water interspersed the atmosphere. You reached over and turned it off, not acknowledging the shrill screech of the metal as you levelled Denki with an even stare.

“It’s from the charging.” He muttered, and your knuckles clenched.

“Of-fucking-course.” He cringed, a clammy palm feebly gripping your forearm. His eyes were desperate, frown twisting his expression into something you couldn’t bear to look at.

“Please, (Y/N), it’s okay,” he begged, a tear slipping out of his eye just at the same time you felt one trail down your cheek.

“It’s not okay, Denki. How long has this been happening?” He fell silent, and you could feel the anxiety coiling in the pit of your stomach.

“Four months.” In a split-second decision, you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your body into his. He nestled his face into your neck, hands coming to rest on your hips. Seemingly unable to keep it together any long, he crumbled, chest stuttering with every breath and his tears soaking the skin that was exposed by your nightshirt.

The silence of midnight began to creep in once again, only broken by the soft whimpers and sobs of the boy practically clutching onto you. You waited as long as you needed to until Denki had caught his breath, not counting the minutes yet painfully aware of each one as it passed.

“From now on, if someone asks you to charge anything, you say no, okay?” Denki frowned, rubbing away the tears in his eyes.

“I-“

“From now on, if someone asks you to charge anything, you say no, got it?” You spat, voice much firmer and tone a lot more sharp. He gulped, resigning to nodding with a sullen expression on his face.

“Are you good to go back to sleep? Or is there anything I need to do first?”

“It’s fine. You can go back now, don’t stay up for any longer.”

“I will do what I want, thanks.” you seethed, eyes glinting. Denki looked taken aback, glancing over your expression wearily.

“Uh…” “I am not going back to sleep unless you’re coming with me. You’re such an idiot-” you paused, “-but you’re my idiot, and there’s no way I’m letting the others treat you like this,“ you cupped his face, fingers pressing into pink cheeks as you angled his face to look at you, “if they want anything else from you, they have to go through me first.” Agape, he only nodded again, allowing you to grab his hand and pull him out the room.

Once he flicked the light off, the two of you were awash in darkness once again, but this seemed not to deter you. Rather, you traipsed across the corridor with a ridiculous amount of determination, only narrowly avoiding the various obstructions in the shadows.

“Here, let me light-“ Despite the little he could see, Denki could practically feel your burning glare. Bringing his hand down, he murmured an apology, musing in your little nod of satisfaction he could feel the motions of.

It only took you a few minutes to get to your room, pushing him inside and closing the door behind you. In spite of everything, Denki could feel heat rushing to his cheeks for an entirely different reason than his fever.

“(Y/N)?” He squeaked, hearing you fumble around the room yet not finding courage to stay anything but completely frozen.

“Yeah?” You questioned, voice low but feeling remarkably pleasant to his ears.

“This isn’t my room.”

“I know.”

“So why am I here?”

“Because I’m not leaving you alone. Come on, I’ve got the spare pillow.”

Denki currently didn’t have the energy to feel shame about the sparks excitement that welled up inside of him as he rushed to the sound of you getting on your bed. You held the blanket up for him, and he all but fell down next to you. The pounding of his heart was almost enough to distract him from the acrid burning of his throat.

You were warm, almost too warm as he shifted to be closer to you. Now that his eyes were getting adjusted, he could make out the expression on your face, eyebrows knotted in concern and eyes scanning all over him, as if searching for some sort of answer that he could only long to give you.

“I’m sorry.” He said it as if it meant anything. If it counted, he truly was. Denki didn’t want to make you worry- he wasn’t worth it. But that’s what you did. He would give too much, and you would worry tenfold.

It didn’t help that his eyes were still stinging and red-rimmed, or every once in a while a dry cough would tickle his throat. It didn’t help that he would wince every time he had to swallow, or that his palms were still clammy and he had to try to subtly wipe them on his shorts. It didn’t help that the pain almost became too much to handle, and he loved you too much to even lie about it.

He loved you- of course he did. How could he not? It was you. You, who stared at him with such adoration, even though he knew you were pissed off. You, who stood up for him even to his friends. You, who worried for him the first time he was buzzed out, and a thousand times later, still stayed with him and ran your fingers through his hair when he was barely conscious.

He watched your eyes strain to stay open, to keep watching him as he was watching you. Finally, they fluttered shut, your breathing evening out as you shuffled closer to him.

You, who got up in the middle of the night to protect him from himself.

He tucked your head under his chin, wrapping his arms around you waist with a gentle sigh. Under the cover of darkness, he confessed this. His words fell on deaf ears, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

You, who, unlike anyone else, was determined to make him stop giving.

He couldn’t help but fall asleep, the sound of your soft breathing and the gentle rise and fall of your chest like a lullaby willing his eyes to close, comforted by the presence of your figure cuddled to his chest.

Denki Kaminari was a giver. And if there was anyone worth giving anything, it was you.

Extra:

Bakugo was not expecting to start his day in a chokehold.

It had started off innocently, Denki was playing a game on his phone, smug grin on his face, you were napping next to him, and the other losers he called his friends were on the sofas, eyes wide and backs straight. Sure, you could say he questioned the strange way his friends were acting, but he didn’t particularly care.

“Pikabitch, I need my phone-“

Bakugo prided himself on his quick instincts, but you were quicker.

In a second, your arm was wrapped around his throat, face dark and pressure increasing through his gasps.

“Say one more fucking word and you’re dead.” You growled, Bakugo’s fingers gripping your arm in a vain attempt to release himself from your hold, “Got it?” The blonde just managed to nod, coughing out once your arm withdrew from his neck. You settled back in your place beside Denki, sending him another sharp glare before returning to your nap.

Bakugo could only stare wide eyed, not quite sure what happened. All he could gather was that Denki was now off limits, and the others seemed to realise that too, if them cringing was anything to go by. With a gulp, he stormed out the common room.

Now he had to go get his charger.