#orange scream milk

[criminallyaddictedtomilk]

[chimera-vanya]

Korova Milky Bar not being on spotify annoys me so much even though I have CD

[prince-princess-bunny]

I would like to point out that we already have an abundance of food and clothes and supplies, and corporations literally destroy them, so people can’t get unsold items

Trekkies against replicators /j

[dream-beyond-the-fantasy]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Cobra Kai (TV), Karate Kid (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jimmy (Karate Kid) & Original Female Character(s) Characters: Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Jimmy (Karate Kid) Additional Tags: Halloween Challenge, Prompt Fill, Milk, Brother-Sister Relationships, Siblings, Humor Summary:

Alyssa wants to try a new kind of milk.

@occreatorexchange

Prompt:  “Why is the milk orange?” “It’s October.”

Gifting this to my my friend @curiousdamage.

[lewisvinga]

down bad | lewis hamilton x fem! reader

summary; just lewis being an absolute simp for his wife on the main

fc; stenss on ig

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3

note; requested ! lewis the loml

masterlist !

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liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, and others !

yourusername: when bae calls me a star girl

lewishamilton: oh my 😍😍😍😍😍

lewishamilton: absolutely love this look and i love you

yourusername: love youuuuuu🫶

lewishamilton: just the prettiest girl ever 🥰

yourusername: 🥹👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

username: me n the bad bitch i pulled by being a simp

username: SIMP LEWIS!

username: lewis is so me😭

username: TUTORIAL PLS QUEEN🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

yourusername: this friday 😇

username: pink blush girlies rise !!

username: this is how my makeup turns out in my head but not irl

carmenmmundt: gorgeous gorgeous !!!

yourusername: thank uuu carm 🤍🤍

username: this is my mother

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lewishamilton uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; the wife demanded matcha today] [caption 2; 😍😍😍😍]

yourusername i didn’t demand i politely asked 🙎‍♀️🙎‍♀️

lewishamilton ‘lew let’s go get matcha now if you say no i’m divorcing you😛’

yourusername ‘TWAS A JOKE😒

yourusername tysm for my iced oat milk matcha latte husband 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

lewishamilton whatever wifey wants wifey gets🙄👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

yourusername happy wife happy life am i right 😁

yourusername speaking of let’s go shopping

lewishamilton knew you’d want that, don’t worry, i made an appointment at hermes 😁

yourusername u know how to make a girl happy lewis hamilton 😖😖

username GIVE ME UR GAME CARD

username Y/NNNNN

username ask her where she got the tights plz

lewishamilton tezenis:)

username OMG???

username her fits are always on point omg

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yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; the husband picking out a pink shopping outfit, is this a sign for what i think it is?] [caption 2; all good things come in orange boxes right?😁 thank you so much, my luv lewishamilton 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨🩷]

lewishamilton if the wife says she wants a birkin 25 in sakura then a birkin 25 in sakura is what she’ll get 😁😁

yourusername I KNEW THERE WAS A REASON YOU WANTED ME TO WEAR PINK!!!😩

yourusername crying ilysm i already have so many outfits planned 🥹

lewishamilton and i can’t wait to see what your amazing mind comes up with 🤍

username why am i shocked abt a birkin like that man isn’t a millionaire

username i need my own lewis hamilton 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

yourbestfriend GIRLK IM SCREAMING FOR YOUU😫😍

yourbestfriend THATS BEEN ON UR WISHLIST FOR AGES

yourusername I KNOWW😩

yourusername it helps when ur man is the lewis hamilton n an absolute simp���

yourbestfriend does he have friends 🤨🤨🤨

yourusername no why does he need friends when he has me 🙄( HIS WIFE )

yourusername jk yes🤓

yourbestfriend we all know lewis would only hang out w u if given the chance 😭

yourusername husband tingz 😇😇

username lewis is so husband material im crying

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liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, and others !

yourusername: get yourself a man who hates driving so much but refuses to let you drive.

tagged; lewishamilton

username: here before simp lewis

lewishamilton: can’t ever get over your beauty, my love 😍😍

yourusername: skdkslkd stop making blush

lewishamilton: your only worry is to just sit there and look pretty, not driving

yourusername: GET URSELF A MAN LIKE THIS LADIES🥰👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

username: IM TRYINGGGG

username: y/n won the jackpot fr

username: OKAY BUT HER FIT??😫

username: mommy? sorry, mommy? sorry 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

username: outfit ateeeee

username: y/n and lewis are such fashionable couples i love them 😫😫

yourbestfriend: where u find him fr

yourusername: turns out pretending to be lost in monaco works but if you actually end up lost:/

yourbestfriend: BET

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liked by yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux, and others !

lewishamilton: happiest of birthdays to my sweetest girl. forever grateful that i get to call the most gorgeous woman on this earth my wife. may this day be filled with many blessings. i love you so much, pretty girl. 🤍

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: YOU ARE MY BLESSING🥹🥹

yourusername: i love u sm , lew ☹️🩷

lewishamilton: love you , pretty girl 🩷

username: i’m so sick rn

username: sleeping on the highway tonight 🚶‍♀️

username: idk how many ‘me n who’ i got left in me😭😭

username: MOTHERS BDAY!!🎉🎉

username: screaming crying throwing up

username: SHES SO FAIRYYY

alexandrasaintmleux: happy birthday 🌸 so excited to be in the ferrari garage with you next year🤍

yourusername: thank u alexxx🥹🥹 so excited too🫶

charles_leclerc: it means ditch the pink for red 😇

lewishamilton: hey, my wife can do whatever she wants 🙄

charles_leclerc: i’ll get roscoe and leo matching outfits 😇

yourusername: DEAL!

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liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, and others.

yourusername: advice of the day; marry a man who is down bad for you

tagged; lewishamilton

lewishamilton: that makeup look of yours 😍😍🥰🥰

yourusername: i think u liked it bc we went shopping after but i’m not sure tho 😋

lewishamilton: how can i not be so down bad for you? my own wife?? a living and breathing goddess???

yourusername: LEWWWKSNDSKKD

yourusername: says the walking god😩 i won’t say much bc there are children here

landonorris: tysm for saving me

username: i will never get over them

username: my roman empire is y/n and lewis 🥹

username: thank u y/n for lewis content 🫡🫡

username: lewis js like me fr bc if i was married to y/n, i’d so be down bad for her too😩

username: him carrying the hermes, chanel, and cartier bags, IM SICK😖😖😖😖

username: not her winning the lottery omfs

yourbestfriend: does he have spare $$$?

yourusername: yes we found a bday gift for u from chanel pookie don’t worry👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

yourbestfriend: THANK U MR N MRS HAMILTON😭😭🙏🙏🙏🫶

lewishamilton: 🫡🫡🫡

username: he’s so down bad he buys y/n’s best friend chanel, why can’t my friends work harder fr 😒😒

[aaagustd]

pairing: producer!cheol x (f)reader // genre: meaningless smut // wc: 0.8k // warnings: f*ngering, c*m eating(finger sucking), kissing, public s*x, unedited; 18+

note: this is probably bad but my allergies are kicking my butt. i still wanted to post though. divider credit.

check out my taglists here.

When a hot producer asks you out, he can sense your nervousness as soon as you get in his expensive car. “What helps you relax?” is what he asks you. Your answer was not one that he expected, but it turned him on like nothing else has. Dinner will just have to wait for now.

“Fuck!” Your entire body trembles with pleasure. The shame of wanting a stranger to ruin you on the hood of his Benz is long gone—so has the fear of being caught while you’re getting fingered in an alley.

Your hands grasp his shirt while your watery eyes stare into his. It’s a silent plea for him to give you more, to bury another one of his long digits into your needy heat.

He chuckles. “No matter how much this little cunt gets, it always wants more, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, god. Yes–It wants more. Please,” you whimper, burying your face in his shirt to muffle your cries. His hand has only been down your panties for about two minutes and you’re already falling apart. “More, please.”

“Well, if you’re that horny…” He grabs your hair and forces you to look at him. “Just sit your pretty ass back and let me see what kind of faces you make when you cum.”

You prop yourself on your arms and observe his work, gasping when a third finger enters your pussy. Your legs are spread wide, and you buck off the vehicle to match his movements, swirling your hips when his palm touches your throbbing clit to add more stimulation. If you weren’t about to reach your high, you’d be begging him to replace his digits with whatever it was that was pressed against your ass a few minutes ago.

“Goddamn it, how are you this wet?”

The lewd noises your leaking pussy produces explain why your panties are a sticky and sodden mess. Your clothes cling to your body due to the sweat forming on your skin, giving you the urge to get rid of the damn things. Of course, you can’t, but it would be nice right about now. “Is this all for me? Couldn’t resist me, could you?”

“I—”

“You wanted me inside of you? That’s understandable, babe. Everyone does,” he claims. 

The tension boils to a head when his fingers curl inside of you.

“I can’t hold it anymore,” you warn, reaching out to grip his arm.

His eyes soften as he pities the pathetic mess he’s made of you. He lifts his hand to cup your face before he grabs your throat, squeezing gently. “Then let go, love.” 

A switch flips when he winks. The coil snaps and the sky of red-orange and deep purples begins to spin around you. He’s forced to cover your mouth quickly to suppress your screams, but his fingers continue to move at a fast pace, milking you of every ounce of energy you have left.

You almost fall back onto the car when your body finally relaxes, but his strong arms prevent you from doing so. In a state of haziness, you can still make out the sight of him licking his fingers clean of your arousal, moaning loudly as he tastes you. 

You’re pulled in for a sloppy kiss and you’re thrilled that the taste of you still lingers on his tongue. Your legs wrap around him, trying to trap him so you can unzip his pants. However, he stops you before you can do so.

“Now right now, love.”

You pout. “But—”

His large hands find your ass and pull you towards the edge so he can keep you close.

“Later,” he says sternly, earning him another sad face.

He laughs at you for a second, resting his chin on top of your head while you lean on his firm chest.

“Seungcheol,” he announces out of nowhere. “That’s my name if you care to use it.”

“Hell yeah, I care,” you assure after introducing yourself. “ I’ve never done that before. Thank you for not judging me. Well, to my face, at least.”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “I’d never. Plus, you’re hot. I wouldn’t want to ruin my chances of getting to know you.”

“Really?” You didn’t mean to sound so excited. Now he probably thinks you’re a groupie.

But he just smiles and pulls away. “You’re cute. Come on, let’s go somewhere and talk.”

He helps you down and guides you to the passenger side of the car. He opens the door for you and waits patiently for your wobbly legs to climb inside.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“No, I’m okay—”

When he gives you a look, you come clean. “I’m starving.”

“Cool. Let’s grab dinner and go back to my place. Then you can show me which of my cars you want me to fuck you on next.”

He shuts the door without another word, leaving your sticky thick thighs rubbing together.

[senipsenipsenip]

The Pines family sat at the table, quietly eating their breakfast, when Mabel slammed her hands on the table and shouted “KERMIT THE FROG”.

Dipper leapt forward to right his orange juice glass, gathering nearby napkins to sop up the puddle. “What?”

“Kermit the frog! He plays the banjo!”

“Yyyyes?”

Ford raised his hand. “Who’s Kermit the Frog?”

Stan snapped his head up from his plate. “Who’s Kermit the Frog? The Muppets, Pointdexter, you were around for The Muppet Show. They had a movie and everything.”

Ford frowned. “Muppets.”

“Yeah, they’re a riot! There’s this Bear whose got some great puns and this pig who really know how to throw a punch. You’d love it, they’ve even got a scientist!”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of children’s television.”

“Children?!”

Dipper stirred his cereal. “I’m just impressed you remember all that. Yesterday you forgot you were married.”

“That’s because The Muppets are forever!” Mabel exclaimed.

“Wait, Stanley you were married?”

“Yep. Actually, unless I’m forgetting a divorce, I might still be married.”

“You didn’t,” Mabel chirped. “I’d have it on my Romance Chart if you did. You’ve missed a lot of anniversaries.”

“So has he!” Stan argued. “I’m not the only bad husband here!”

Ford spluttered. “Husband?”

Dipper frowned. “I think we’re getting a little too far away from why Mabel screamed Kermit the Frog and knocked my orange juice over.”

Mabel nodded. “Right, so, I was thinking of Mr. McGucket -

“Stanley you have a husband?“

“I was thinking of Mr. McGucket,” Mabel interrupted. “And how he could maybe help around the Shack. And he plays banjo! He could play banjo and people could put money in his lil banjo case like a real musician.”

At the mention of money, Stan leaned forward.

“But like, no one knows banjo music,” Mabel continued. “So I was like, maybe pop hits banjo? But then BOOM! Kermit the Frog! People love that frog. He could play the rainbow song. He’d be a hit!”

“Interesting,” Stan muttered. “Preying on people’s nostalgia to milk them for cash. I love it!”

Ford hummed. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea, Mabel. Activities like playing musical instruments have been proven to help patients with Alzheimers and dementia. Not that Fiddleford’s condition has the same root cause, but it may prove beneficial to memory recovery.”

“Eugh, don’t ruin this for me.”

“If playing an instrument helps with memory loss, maybe Grunkle Stan should learn an instrument,” Dipper suggested.

“Ooo!” Mabel squealed. “What about guitar? Or the piano? OH!” She clutched Stan’s arm with a fervor. “The triangle!”

Ford grimaced. “Maybe not that one.”

“Sorry, kid. I’m not exactly a music guy,” Stan shrugged out of Mabel’s grasp. “Let’s leave that to the professionals.”

Mabel frowned, but let the topic go.

Ford stood from the table. “Well, I happen to be visiting Fiddleford this afternoon. I can broach the topic and see what he thinks.”

Fiddleford, as it turns out, loved the idea. To the surprise of everyone, Fiddleford admitted that he had always wanted to play in a jugband when he was younger, but could never get over his stage fright enough to audition for the local band. Then he went off to college and then…everything else.

“Maybe I zapped away that scared bit enough to play!” he had cackled, knocking at the side of his head with his knuckles.

It was settled. “Fiddlin’ Fridays at the Mystery Shack with Fiddleford McGucket”. Dipper tried to point out the title didn’t make sense since it was a banjo, not a fiddle. Stan argued that “customers are suckers for alliteration”. The set up was just Fiddleford dragging an old rocking chair onto the porch and opening up his banjo case. Mabel had made a large glittery banner, but it was quickly absconded by Fiddleford’s raccoon.

“Tell your wife to give me back my banner!” Mabel had yelled, chasing the raccoon into the bushes.

“Ex-wife,” Fiddleford sighed sadly. “Apparently I was too emotionally available.”

Ford pulled at his hair. “Did everyone get married without telling me?”

“Excuse me?” A voice piped up. Fiddleford and Ford turned to see a little boy standing at the bottom of the porch. He was dressed in hiking clothes that were obviously new. In the distance, a young woman was unstrapping a baby from its seat in an SUV. Obviously city folk coming to the “wilderness” for the first time.

“Are you a real hillbilly?” The boy asked. Suddenly the door slammed open, Mr. Mystery striding through, eyepatch in place.

“Sure is!” Stan grinned. “Our very own genuine hillbilly just waiting to play you a tune! All you gotta do is put some of your mom’s money in his case there.”

The little boy’s eyes widened, turning around to race towards his mother.

“Stanley,” Ford admonished. “Fiddleford isn’t some show monkey to throw money at.”

“During work hours he is.” Stan turned to Fiddleford. “So, did Mabel teach you that song she was so excited about?”

Fiddleford sat frozen, watching the little boy yank at his mothers pants to try and get her attention, the baby beginning to fuss.

“Well…” Fiddleford cleared his throat. “Some good news and bad news fellas.”

Ford furrowed his brows. “What is it?”

“Good news is, my mind ain’t all broken.” Fiddleford hugged his banjo and turned to look up at Ford. “Bad news is I knows it ‘cause I still got stage fright.”

Stan scoffed. “Stage fright? C’mon it’s one kid and a couple o’ city slickers who would probably think you playing three wrong notes and spitting is ‘authentic’.”

“Stanley, be supportive.”

“I am! Look I’ve been at this job forever. All you gotta do is smile and if something goes wrong, you blame a ghost or something. They eat that up.”

Fiddleford shook his head. “But this is music. If’n I mess up music, ‘specially somethin’ they know. Music is real special to people, I can’t spoil it.”

Ford knelt down next to Fiddleford’s chair. “You don’t have to play that song Fiddleford. You don’t have to play at all.”

Fiddleford looked anxiously between Ford and the family. It seemed the little boy had finally gotten his mother’s attention and was excitedly pointing toward the porch.

“I…” Fiddleford shook his head. “I can’t let the little ‘uns down. ‘Specially not those ones.” As he said this, he gestured with his chin towards the other end of the porch where Dipper and Mabel sat bickering in lawn chairs. Mabel had returned from her raccoon chase covered in twigs and holding a surprisingly docile raccoon. Dipper was leaning away from the pair while trying to convince Mabel to stop feeding it gummy worms before it developed a taste for human food and tried breaking into the Shack.

Ford's gaze drifted to the twins. "Alright," he relented. "But you still don't have to play Mabel's song."

Fiddleford bowed his head.

"Yet!" Ford offered. "Not yet. She'll understand I'm sure."

Fiddleford frowned, looking unconvinced.

"Of course not yet!" Stan interjected. "You can't go playing the grand finale right out of the gate! You gotta warm 'em up first, keep 'em wanting more." Stan slapped his hand on Fiddleford's back. "If you give 'em what they want right away, they won't come back! Hold that one off until tomorrow or...uh...next week. Tease it or something."

Stan had started rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand as he spoke, a tell Ford was quick to recognize. It was the same one he did when he would "begrudgingly" let Mabel choose the movie for movie night or let Dipper rope him into another game of Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons. Covering the most vulnerable part of his body while he let his emotions go soft.

Fiddleford seemed to perk up at Stan's words.

"Well," Fiddleford offered. "I do know some proper jugband music. Only, it don't have the same ring to it without a jug."

"We've got a jug!" Mabel cheered from the other side of the porch. It seemed the raccoon argument had reached enough of a truce that the twins were once again paying attention to the concert. "I used to keep pond water in it, it's in the kitchen!" She hopped off of her chair, lugging the racoon along with her like it was a rather expensive lap cat.

Dipper followed her. "Why did you have a jug of pond water?"

"Because, dummy, if I met a frog prince he would need something in the shack to remind him of home."

"Aren't you supposed to turn him into a person though?"

Whatever Mabel's retort was to be was cut off by the door swinging shut.

"There ya go," Stan grumbled. "You're getting your jug. Just in time too." He gestured toward the SUV. The mother was walking toward the Shack, one hand holding the baby, the other gripping tightly to the little boy's hand. The little boy gripped a few dollars in his fist, eyes alight with excitement.

Fiddleford looked frantic. "I can't sing and play the jug at the same time!" He gripped at his hat, pulling it down over his ears.

Ford sighed. "Then don't play the jug."

"It won't be the same!" Fiddleford shook his head. "A jugband without a jug that's...that's like a body with no heartbeat!"

The door swung open and Mabel emerged with an old ceramic jug.

"Here it is!" she exclaimed. "And it only sort of smells like pond scum."

"I don't think that will be necessary," Ford smiled gently. "It seems Fiddleford can't play both simultaneously."

Mabel frowned. "But it's a jugband. It's in the name!"

"How about we wait another day," Ford offered, patting Fiddleford awkwardly on the back. "Maybe someone in town will join you."

"Oh for Pete's sake, give it to me." Stan snatched the jug out Mabel's hand, sniffing at the top and giving a grimace.

Fiddleford stopped pulling at his hat, peeking out from under the brim. "You'll play?"

Stan grunted. "I'm not missing out on good money just because you have a case of the heebie jeebies. Besides, how hard can it be? It's like blowing on the top of a beer...er...I mean soda bottle."

Dipper crossed his arms. "Grunkle Stan, we know what beer is."

"Not from me you don't."

Mabel squealed. "It's happening! Grunkle Stan is learning an instrument!"

"It's not an instrument, Pumpkin. It's dishware."

"It's a scrapbookortunity!"

Mabel dashed into the house once more, leaving Dipper to grin at their Grunkle Stan.

The family was only a few yards away now. Fiddleford looked between Stan, Ford, and Dipper, and straightened up in his seat.

"Alright. Alright!" He clapped his hands together. "Stanley, you get down here with me, otherwise your feet are gonna get mighty sore from standing." He yanked at Stanley's hand until he sat beside the rocking chair with a grumble.

"Now when I tap my foot," Fiddleford instructed. "You blow on the jug. One short note at a time." Fiddleford tapped his foot in demonstration. "You got that?"

Stanley rolled his eyes. "Gee, I don't know. Seems pretty complicated for the guy without a PhD."

Mabel burst through the door, camera clutched in her hands. "Got it!"

"Excuse me?"

The little boy stood on the porch, approaching the banjo case with far more trepidation than before. Eyes darting between the assembly, he dropped a few dollars in the case.

"Is this enough to play a song?"

Fiddleford didn't bother looking at the money. He turned his gaze to Stanley, who shrugged and raised the jug to his lips.

Fiddleford grinned. "You know ‘Boodle Am Shake’?"

The little boy shook his head.

"Well you're about to!" And with that he was off.

By Fiddleford's standards, it wasn't a horribly complicated tune. Ford had heard him pluck out more complex riffs while waiting for the coffee pot in their dorm room to brew. But Fiddleford was smiling. His shoulders had dropped from around his ears, and he was nodding at the little boy to tap his feet along with him. Ford hid his smile behind his hands as he watched Stanley, eyes focused on Fiddleford's bare foot with as much attention as one would give to diffusing a bomb. Next to him, Mabel was snapping pictures of the pair. Dipper stood on his other side, wearing the small smile he tended to get when feeling introspective. Ford laid his hand on Dipper's shoulder, and Dipper leaned into the touch.

The mother was smiling at her little boy, her baby having finally stopped fussing. Maybe it wasn't the grand attraction Mabel had planned, but Ford thought it was worth far more than those few dollars anyway. Nothing could be worth more than his family standing around him, his closest friend singing again.

I know this song, it don't mean a doggone thing. Just do that good old Charleston swing. When you sing...

[paradoxon-3791]

Yuu and Adeuce: *screaming*

Trey, running into the room: What’s wrong Yuu?!!

Ace: Hey, why’d you only ask them?

Trey: Yuu only screams if there’s an emergency, you two scream whenever you have the chance.

Yuu: You know, there’s a “u” in “stupid.”

Ace: WELL THERE’S AN “I” IN “STUPID” TOO!

Ace:

Ace: Wait-

Yuu: *cackling*

Deuce: Y-you called me stupid.

Yuu: I didn’t call you stupid.

Deuce: Yes, you did! You called me stupid.

Yuu: Okay well, I didn’t mean to call you stupid, but when I asked you to spell orange and you asked me, “You mean the fruit or the color?” It kinda caught me off guard. I’m sorry.

Yuu: Aren’t you lactose intolerant?

Deuce: This isn’t lactose; it’s milk.

Yuu:

Ace: You’re a fucking idiot.

Yuu: Why can’t we just hang out normally for once? Why can’t we do things that normal people do like go for brunch?

Adeuce: What the fuck is brunch?

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #6

CH6. Spilled Milk | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

The diner was busy. 

Too busy. In fact, it was chaotic. An unusual brunch time rush on the hottest Saturday in August. The first in the month and the official marking of your two month birthday at Jim’s Grill. Not that it mattered, no one was able to celebrate it, not even yourself. 

A greyhound and a private coach had pulled into the parking lot within ten minutes of each other, tourists pouring out of them in big families, clusters of hikers, campers and back water town enthusiasts ready to order everything from the menu. Jim had lit up at the sight, the bell above the diner door jingling over and over and over again, before the man looked at Eddie through the hatch and his face fell into a panicked expression. 

“Shit.”

Steve was already smiling until his cheeks ached, his customer service voice ringing out through the din of the crowd as he tried his best to get everyone seated, him and Jonathan pushing tables together to cater for the family that arrived with seven kids in tow. 

Jim was on the phone in his office, barking out orders before they turned into pleas, the garish orange receiver clutched between two hands before he closed his eyes, mouthed a prayer and then pumped his fist in the air. Twenty minutes later, Dustin Henderson was storming through the diner with two other teens trailing behind him, looking far more begrudging about whatever they’d obviously been roped into. 

Hopper handed them aprons and promised, “cash in hand at the end of the night and an extra twenty if you get through this without breaking anything.”

A deal was made and soon, a red headed girl called Max Mayfield was flying between tables on bright green roller skates, bussing tables with a bored expression on her freckled face. Behind her, Jonathan’s little brother Will was delivering trays of drinks, narrowly avoiding Dustin as he brought Eddie’s famous stacked burgers out by the dozen. 

It was chaos. It was too warm, and god, it was so loud. But fuck, the tips were great. Your apron was stuffed with bills and order tickets, your fingertips red from the amount of times you’d caught them between the metal clips you hung them from above Eddie’s station. It was too busy to talk, to chat and flirt quietly in this new way you’d both grown brave enough to do. The boy was frazzled, side by side with Argyle by the grill as the flipped patties and fried eggs and bacon, a new batch of rolls dangerously close to burning in the oven. The timer was screaming, something else was buzzing, the workstations were the messiest you’d ever seen them and there was a puddle of spilled milk by the door. 

“Door! Behind!” You yelled out amongst the noise, eyes wide at the orders sitting by the hatch still to be delivered. Nancy and Robin were taking plates six at a time, hands and arms full, their balance nothing short of impressive. “Eddie, sorry, but table six wanted extra hash browns with their brunch combo not an egg—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Eddie was taking the plate from you and sliding the perfectly fried egg into the trash. He barely looked at you, something you tried not to frown at because his mouth was set in a strained line and there were beads of sweat gathering at curls on his forehead. “Argyle, time on those hash browns?” Eddie barked, eyes still on the burgers he was placing cheddar slices on top of. 

Argyle was scraping crispy potato pieces around the griddle, salt and pepper and some other spices poured on top as he worked at breakneck speed. “Three minutes, chef,” Argyle called back and Eddie grunted in return. 

You felt stupid, standing there aimlessly with a customer's plate in your hand and before you could get out of the way, Eddie was moving you himself. Big, wide hands on the tops of your arms, guiding you out of the path of the door just before Steve burst through it. He narrowly missed the spilled milk. 

“Door!” He yelled a fraction later than he should’ve. Eddie glared at him. “Corner! Fuck, where’s the fucking syrups? Eddie? Ed! Where’s the syrup!”

You watched Eddie squeeze his eyes shut before he groaned, killing the heat on the grill just as Argyle appeared at your side to slide the freshly cooked hash browns onto the plate. You smiled, grateful. “Thank you.”  

“Open your fuckin’ eyes, man! They’re on the shelf!” Eddie was furiously wiping his hands on his stained chef whites, a dish towel tucked into the ties of his apron as he started assembling burger after burger. 

Bun. Sauce. Patty. Cheese. Bacon. More sauce. Lettuce. Pickles. Tomato. Fried egg. Perfect yolk. Crispy onions. More sauce. Bun. 

“What shelf?!” Steve yelled back, the pantry contents rattling as he pushed his way past huge bags of sugar and jars of homemade jam. “Eddie, it’s not fucking there!”

Robin barged in the door, not announcing her arrival to anyone and the edge of it slammed Argyle as he walked past carrying piles of grease filled frying pans. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry dude!” Eddie glared at her. “Door?” She said weakly. 

“Why is everyone in my fuckin’ kitchen!” Eddie yelled and diners closest to the hatch peered in at him, disapproving expressions on their faces as their kids with ketchup smeared chins laughed. “Buckley! What is it?”

“There’s like, seven tables asking for maple syrup. Where is it?”

Everyone groaned, eyes rolling and Eddie threw his hands to the ceiling. “It’s on the fuckin’ shelf, but Harrington is too blind to see them. Christ, Argyle, start getting these burgers out, Harrington fuckin’ move man—”

It all happened a bit too fast, that’s all. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, not really. Just a classic case of spilled milk. No need to cry over it, right? That’s what they said. 

Argyle dumped the pans into the sink with a crash, slipping between you and Eddie’s workstation as he tried to get to the burgers before they went cold. Eddie was pushing past Robin to get to Steve who was still arguing and well, Robin might’ve stepped forward at the same time you stepped back to avoid Argyle. Plateful of hash browns held high, you tried to stop them from falling. You tried not to elbow Argyle in the face and god, you tried really hard not to completely crash into Robin despite the way her shoulder caught yours. 

You stepped back again, someone yelled ‘door!’ and the sound of Max’s roller blades ripped through onto the kitchen tiles, sending everyone into a loud panic. Your foot found the puddle of milk, sneakers slipping through the liquid and the inevitable happened. 

There was an awful crack when your head hit the worktop on the way down. Ass hitting the tiles, a horrible spine numbing pain licking up your back. The bones in your hips tingled with it before tears sprung to your eyes as a searing pain set in everywhere at once. You heard the kitchen go quiet for just a second, a blissful peace before the plate you’d been holding finally joined you on the floor and smashed into a hundred different pieces. Argyle’s perfectly crispy hash browns skittered under the workstation and you heard someone swear. 

Then everyone was clamouring at once, hands hesitated to touch you as you brought your own to the back of your head and held it there. There was a strange kind of heat to it that made you hope it wasn’t blood, but you were too scared to look. Milk seeped into your wrinkled sock, your legs splayed out in front of you like a forgotten doll, but you didn’t feel half as pretty as one. You gazed mournfully at the smashed plate and couldn’t help the way your bottom lip twisted and trembled. God, your head hurt. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, shit— I’m sorry, I should’ve said I was coming in, right?”

“It’s fine Max, it’s not your fault—”

“How many fingers am I holding up? Can you stand? Hey, who’s the president—?”

“Lil’ Chicago slice got laid out.”

“Everyone move.”

Eddie’s voice rang out the loudest, clear and gruff with an authoritative tone that bordered on scary. Everyone listened, the kitchen and its team quietening down again when they all saw how you winced at the noise. Eddie pushed past Steve, and Robin, dropping down to hunker next to you. His brows were stitched together with concern and he tutted softly at the tear slipping down your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed, but his thumb brushed it away before anyone else could see. 

He murmured your name and it sounded like a question you were supposed to answer, so you hummed, face scrunched up as more sharp needles of pain prickled at the back of your skull. Your hand was still pressed to it, scared to let go as if your whole head would simply roll off of your neck. 

But Eddie’s hand curled around your wrist and he tugged gently, murmuring words of nonsense that were nothing more than soft placations. With a bit of coaxing, you let him take your hand away and you slammed your eyes shut before you could look. No one hissed or gasped, so it seemed safe enough. 

But still, you asked, “there’s no blood, right?”

The boy gave you a soft smile as everyone circled closer to peer at your hand. “Nah,” Eddie told you reassuringly. “No blood, you’ll live.” Then he was cupping your chin in his hand, thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth and his brow wrinkled with more concern. “Can I take a look though?”

You wanted to say no. All this fuss and attention was making you feel too hot, embarrassment from falling starting to roll in with the pain and it mixed in your stomach to create an awfully uncomfortable concoction. Steve and Robin were still gazing down at you, eyes wide with shock and Max looked stricken with guilt, as if she thought her coming into the kitchen unannounced caused this. Argyle was already moving between everyone, sweeping broken pieces of plate and squished food out of the way. 

But you nodded and let Eddie peer at the back of your head. His hands gentle as he turned you this way and that, parting your hair so he could look for any cuts. He whistled at the sight of a bump and ran his thumb over it softly. You winced and he murmured a sorry before squeezed your knee, a comforting thing that Robin raised her brows at. 

“Think you can stand?” Eddie asked. 

You didn’t get a chance to answer, because Hopper was bursting through the doors with a red face and seven ticket orders clutched in his hand. “Why is half my staff on the kitchen fucking floor?” He yelled. “It’s crazy out there! What’s going on?”

You brought your knees to your chest as Steve explained what had happened, gesturing to the puddle of milk, the broken pieces of plate in the trash. Eddie didn’t move, didn’t take his eyes off you, even when you winced in embarrassment and tried to hide your face in your hands. 

You heard Jim sigh and then he was clapping his hands and demanding that Steve and Robin went back to the dining floor. “There’s four tables waitin’ for coffee, never mind food, c’mon! And Max— Jesus, Maxine, take those skates off before someone else ends up with a concussion.”

Argyle was sent back to the grill before Hop patted Eddie on the shoulder and told him to do the same. Eddie screwed up his face, confusion wrinkling his brow. “What? No, Hop, someone’s gotta take her home.”

“Ed—” you started to interrupt, mortified at the idea of causing an upset. 

Hop laughed, not meanly, just amused. “And what? You think you should be the one to take her, Casanova? You’re the only guy I got here that knows how to cook an omelette, you’re not going anywhere Munson.”

Eddie’s ears burned with the quip, cheeks flushed pink and he scowled at his boss, uncaring about the repercussions. But his attention was quickly stolen by you as you made an attempt to move, standing shakily as you protested that you were fine. The boy scoffed, holding your forearms so you could grip his, knuckles white as the shock of it all set in. 

You did feel a little dizzy. 

“She’s not going back out there to take orders,” Eddie told the older man as they both looked at your peaky expression, your glassy eyes. 

“Well, I ain’t got the bodies to get someone to take her home, kid,” Hop shrugged regretfully. “Wayne at the garage?”

“Fishing trip,” Eddie answered sourly. “Here, c’mon, sit down, yeah?” He guided you to the stool by his station and helped you onto it, eyes filled with concern as you clutched the edge of the worktop and closed your eyes. “Should we be callin’ a doctor?” Eddie asked Hop. 

“Don’t you dare,” you managed to bark at him, even though your voice sounded shaky. “I’m fine. I’ll just, I’ll just sit for a bit.”

You couldn’t hear what the two men were whispering about, but embarrassment told you it was most definitely about you. You only looked up when someone set a glass of water in front of you and you smiled in thanks at Argyle before he squeezed your shoulder and went back to flipping pancakes. 

��Drink that, please,” Eddie mumbled softly as he appeared by your side. Hopper had left, standing awkwardly in the middle of the diner instead of his office as he wrote down orders listed off by a frantic Nancy. “Okay, we’ve come to an agreement.”

You snorted into your glass. “We have?” You asked as you wiped at your lips. 

“Hop’s gonna take over and I’ll drive you home when this place finally calms down. Or we run out of eggs, whatever comes first.”

You rolled your eyes but the action was fond, just like the smile on your lips. You could barely bring yourself to look up at the boy for fear of giving too much away in your gaze, but when you did, you saw the same softness in Eddie’s own expression. “You don’t have to do that,” you told him. “I’ll just sit for a bit and then walk home.”

Eddie snorted and began chopping slices of tomatoes at a speed your eyes could barely keep up with. “No you fuckin’ won’t,” he told you. “Part of this agreement was that you park your cute ass where I can see you. No passing out in the walk-in, alright?”

You tried not to dwell on the compliment too much. Weeks had passed since the night you’d gotten high with the boy, too close on his bed, too close to doing something that was interrupted. You’d been back to the Munson trailer since, but you spent evenings on the sofa with both Eddie and Wayne, yelling at Alex Trebek and trying out new dishes that Eddie created for late nice dinners. No other attempt at a kiss - if that’s what had been about to happen. No other attempt at asking for a date - if that’s what the boy had been about to say. 

“Are there any other conditions to this agreement?” You asked, wincing when Argyle dropped a pot into the sink. “Or did you just sell my soul to Jim without me knowing?”

Eddie laughed as he threw some mushroom halves onto the grill, dropping in some butter until they sizzled. “Sweetheart, c’mon now, you did that yourself when you agreed to work in his hellhole.” Eddie moved away just for a few seconds, long enough to return with a new glass of ice water that he replaced your empty one with. “But he did say you’re not allowed to sue him.”

You smiled, laughing weakly because your head still throbbed and the diner was too loud but Eddie Munson was grinning at you with his dimples on show and a stray curl falling into his big, brown eyes. 

“Damn,” you tried to joke. “There goes my plan.”

—————

You’d been slumped on the stool for the best part of two hours before someone roused you from your semi sleeping state. Heels of your hands pressed to your closed eyes, the sounds of the diner sounding further and further away as you let yourself be lulled into haze by the sounds of Eddie and Argyle talking over the sizzle of the grill, the popping of bacon, the whir of a whisk. 

Then, a palm on your back, wide and warm. You startled only slightly, sitting up and reappearing from behind your hands to see a bowl of soup being slid in front of you. A deep red, flecked with cracked black pepper and smelling like tomato and basil. There was a swirl of some cream in the centre, artfully placed, and a spoon was dipped into the middle of it. 

“Eat up,” Eddie instructed softly. “Then I can try ‘n’ find you some Advil or somethin’, Nancy probably got some stashed somewhere.”

You eyed the soup with a sudden greed, mouth watering at the aroma, your fingers finding the spoon. “You didn’t even ask if I was hungry,” you gently scolded the boy. 

Eddie knew what it meant. ‘Thank you. You shouldn’t have.’

“Don’t start,” he grumbled back, already going back to cracking more eggs into a bowl. Only six this time, which meant service must’ve been slowing. “You’ve had a coffee and half a slice of toast all day, eat your fuckin’ soup.”

You knew what that meant too. ‘You’re welcome. Please eat, so I stop worrying.’

So you ate and Eddie made omelettes, folding each so meticulously that you couldn’t help but watch. Butter on top, chives diced, fresh tomato and Italian ham in the middle. He knew you were staring, he always did. But now he smiled instead of scowled, let his gaze flicker to you every time he put his knife down and he nodded appreciatively when your spoon scraped the last of the soup from the bowl.

“Good?” He asked like always, sliding the omelette dishes out of the hatch for Steve to deliver to the waiting tables.

Jim was back in the office and the younger kids were long gone, sent home with leftover doughnuts from the pastry cabinet and an extra twenty in each of their back pockets. Regular slowness has resumed. Only Mr Creel sat at the bar, under the television as always, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee he wouldn’t let Jonathan refill. There was a family at one table, an older couple at another, and three teens sharing a plate of fries in a booth at the back. 

You nodded, humming. “So good, Eddie. Best soup I’ve had.”

Eddie grinned and tried to hide it, bashful and pink in the face at your praise. There was a lull in the kitchen as Argyle disappeared into the walk-in and for the first time that day, there was nothing on the grills in danger of burning. So the boy cleared his station and leant his elbows on it, so close to you that you could let your hand touch his, if you’d felt brave enough. 

“How’s the head?” 

You made a face at the reminder, reaching back to gingerly feel at the small lump there, tender and embarrassing. “It’s fine,” you told him. “Just another injury for the collection.”

Eddie snorted, knowing about your bumps and bruises you’d gathered working in the diner. You were insistent someone was moving table eight a few inches to the right each day, just to fuck with you and your hip. “Gonna have to keep you in a bubble.”

You smiled, “can’t feed me in a bubble, Munson.”

Another grin from Eddie, shy and pretty and so incredibly genuine. The boy that had scowled at you from the minute you’d appeared now couldn’t hide how happy you seemed to make him. Pink cheeks and dimples, a shine to his eyes that made your knees a little weak and you wanted to tell him then, right there, kiss me please. 

Kiss me without smoke between us, kiss me without having an excuse to be close. Kiss me ‘cause you want to. 

“Yeah, yeah you’re right, that seems— that would be, uh, less than ideal,” Eddie coughed, suddenly nervous. He straightened up and took his hands away from the counter, away from any ideas you had about holding them in your own. “I could, uh, I could - y’know - ask you if you wanted to grab dinner later, instead.”

You sucked in a breath, eyes wide. You didn’t say anything, you just blinked and your silence urged Eddie to fill it, so he rambled on further, voice coming out rushed and a little rough. “Like, I mean, so I can make sure, you know… you eat. God. And you don’t hit your head again, ‘cause you could totally have a concussion and that would su—”

“Eddie?” You interrupted, heart beating too fast, your chest too tight. It felt like it was ready to crack in two, ready to bloom. Excitement was caught in your throat, maybe hope. “Are you asking me on a date?”

The boy faltered and then smiled, a dopey, lopsided thing that you were sure was the most endearing sight you’d ever come across. Those cheeks went pink again and suddenly he was the furthest thing from the grumpy line cook that grunted his greetings to everyone. But maybe, you guessed, he just didn’t do that to you. 

“I’m definitely trying to, yeah.” Eddie grinned then, only once he saw your smile too. 

Giddy, feeling like a schoolgirl with her first crush, you squinted at him, eyes crinkling in the corners with a new type of joy. You wanted to laugh at his attempt, his shyness for a change instead of your own but you couldn’t keep it together. You were bursting at the seams, chest splintering as the butterflies roared. You felt breathless, you felt warm, you felt like you could look at yourself in the mirrored edge of a frying pan and watch yourself glitter. 

“I’d love to,” you told him, soft, quiet, happy. 

The boy lazed back against the worktop, the stainless steel between you littered with spilled sugar and the lonely top of a carrot. He played with the edge of his dish towel that was tucked into the front of his apron, narrowed his eyes at you comically and tried to contain his own grin. He was beaming. 

“You’re not just saying that ‘cause you’re concussed, right?”

You laughed, a bright, sharp sound and you shook your head. “I’m not concussed.” You hummed, happy. “And even if I was, I’d still wanna go on a date with you.”

Eddie looked brighter than the sun. 

—————

That evening, Eddie picked you up outside your apartment with freshly washed curls and a shirt that didn’t have any rips in it. 

His boots were clean and his jeans weren’t creased and you’d have said something about it all if you weren’t as nervous as he looked. With what appeared to be a permanent flush on his cheeks, he hopped out the van as he saw you lock up, jogging round the front so he could open the door for you. 

“You look nice,” he murmured as he helped you in, his hand holding yours, his gaze unable to stop from wandering over all the bare thigh your dress showed off. 

A summery thing, cherry red with a hem that erred on the side of almost too short, with short sleeves and a pretty frilled neckline. It was lower than your uniform, showing off more skin and cleavage than he’d ever seen before. You’d changed seven times between getting out of the shower and watching the window for Eddie’s van, throwing your rejected outfits on your bedroom floor as you stood in your pyjama shirt, wondering if it was far too presumptuous to change into your best lace underwear. 

The butterflies inside your ribcage were rattling. 

“Thank you,” you answered politely and you let yourself look at him too, like you were allowed to now. He still had the rings he wore outside of the kitchen, a plain black T-shirt that smelled like he always did, like lemongrass and freshly spritzed cologne. “You look nice too.”

He went pink at your words and duked his chin to hide his smile. And when he got back into the driver's seat, you looked at him expectantly, nervously. 

“So, uh, there’s only really one place to go for food in this town,” Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly and he smiled, nose scrunched. “And rumour has it, the chef is out on a hot date…”

You laughed, tension broken for a second or two and you hummed, nodding. “Hot date, huh?”

Eddie nodded furiously, letting his eyes dip to look over your bare legs, the short hem of your dress, scarlet against your skin. He looked bravely, not trying to hide it the way he used to. “The hottest,” he confirmed. 

“Where are you taking me then?” you asked softly, leaning your cheek against the seat. It was dangerous looking at him like this, like you wanted him, like you were over trying to hide it. Your workplace crush had bloomed into something else, something more and it made your chest ache.

“Wayne’s not home,” Eddie replied just as soft, just as quiet. His gaze kept falling to your mouth, the way it turned up in the corners. “I have it on good authority that the food at Casa Munson is top tier.”

It made your stomach flip, the idea of being alone with the boy. It barely happened, a rarity, really. The butterflies in your stomach were pushing at your bones, gnawing to get out. You were dizzy with it. 

“Yeah?” you smiled at him, putting Eddie’s own nerves at ease. “Think you could get us a table?”

[zweiginator]

having an argument w stepbro!patrick over smth stupid like who didn’t shut the fridge or who forgot to put the washing in the dryer and it ends with hate sex :) him groaning “i fucking hate you” as he bottoms out, and you moaning it straight back at him

you're a genius

your mom and patrick's dad are in the kitchen and they notice that one of you accidentally left the milk out. it's a stupid and trivial and innocuous mistake. could've been anyone.

"it was patrick." you grab a strawberry from the dining room table. "he was eating cereal yesterday.

"no it fucking wasn't. you're not just going to pin this on me." patrick shoves you aside and sits at the seat you usually sit at for breakfast. pours himself a glass of orange juice and glares at you. "you were putting milk in your coffee after i ate breakfast."

"guys--it doesn't matter." your mom says. and it truly doesn't. when you're sitting at a grand dinner table with fine china in a house that patrick's dad bought for four million dollars--spoiled milk doesn't matter.

but you fucking hate patrick and he fucking hates you. your eyes twitch when you see each other. he shoves into you in the hallway and gets your towels in the bathroom dirty even though he has his own bathroom in his own room. he makes fun of the boys you date and when you wear lipstick. he says you're annoying and too stuck up and too uptight.

and you get makeup stains on the t-shirts you steal from his closet. you borrow his tennis rackets whe you want to play with your friends. you giggle on the phone with your little boyfriends until three in the morning, until patrick bangs on your door and screams in your face. calls you a spoiled fucking brat. as if he isn't worse.

"i know how to put things back where they came from. i'm not an idiot." you spit back, yanking the butter knife away from him.

"could've fooled me. you're pretty fucking stupid actually. and last time i checked, you steal, like, all of my shit." patrick fakes a smile at you. yanks the knife back.

"i don't want your disgusting clothes that you never wash. you couldn't pay me to go into your closet to smell it in there."

patrick takes a bite of his toast, rolling his eyes. "now you're just fucking lying."

"stop talking with your mouth full it's gross. have some decorum."

"aww she learned a five dollar word!"

and patrick gets up, shoving his hip into your chair to spill your water on your shirt. puts his dishes in the sink. "i have practice, bye."

but this argument, it lingers for days. stays sour in your mouths and tickles the end of your tongues. you've never had a spat like this, one that spans for days and days.

patrick invites a girl over. you embarrass him in front of her.

"fourth one this week. that's a record."

she leaves fifteen minutes later.

patrick turns the hot water off when you go to take a shower.

you take his clothes out of the washer to wash your own, so he has to wear soaking wet shorts to a match.

whatever one of you does, the other retaliates. but the fight doesn't reach a head until you take his car without asking. you only went to get some ice cream, but when you pull into the driveway, patrick is already screaming at you. seething. his ears are red and his arms are crossed and spit flies at your face as he yells.

"are you fucking kidding me? this isn't a what's mine is yours situation. you don't steal my fucking car whenever you want." he grabs your wrist. throws your cup of strawberry ice cream on the concrete. "how does that feel? you're such a fucking brat."

you slap him. "what is up your ass? god, you're so fucking uptight. let loose for once, why are you so tense and annoying? chill the fuck out!"

patrick hates that. he hates that you're mocking what he's said to you before. hates that you're pressing your little fingers into the bruise of his ego until it really stings.

he yanks you inside, slamming the door. your mom and step dad left hours ago, something about a dinner party forty-five minutes away. you and patrick figure they'll drink too much wine and stay the night.

"you think that's fucking cute?" patrick pushes you against the door. turns you around so your stomach presses against the cold door knob. you feel your pulse in your belly button and his body looming behind you. and he spanks you. as hard as he can. it stings and the pain lingers. you yelp.

"patrick--" you look back at him.

the silence is all-encompassing. you hear the ticking of the clock in the foyer, the soft hum of the air conditioner. the trickling faucet in the kitchen that never turns off, and patrick's heavy breathing. and suspended between you is a choice. you can tell him off. apologize for this whole big drawn-out fight. you can walk away.

or, you can ease into the tension. let the rubber band snap and hit you both in the face. you can do something taboo and wrong. something that your respective parents would fucking disown you for.

patrick lowers you onto the rug in the foyer. fumbles with the buttons of his shirt. shoves his tongue in your mouth and feels yours in his. his hips rut into you and you tangle your fingers in his hair.

you hate to give him the satisfaction of moaning, of letting him know he's good at something. but you do.

"you think you're so cute when you piss me off." he whispers against the shell of your ear. he pulls his boxers down, revealing his cock and it's so big you don't know if you can take it.

patrick reads your mind. sees the look on your face.

"you started this so you're gonna fucking take it." pushes himself deep inside you until he bottoms out. he hisses and groans as you claw at his back. you say patrick, please, patrick i--

and he laughs at you. because you thought you won your little spat. but patrick can shut you up. he can make you forget all about your cockiness when he's slamming into you. and he does.

your legs bounce over his shoulders, his little gold chain necklace dangling over you, tickling your lips. patrick spits on you. you slap him across the face. he grabs your wrist and slams it on the ground, pinning it above your head.

but you moan nonetheless. and you know patrick feels good by how his mouth stays open. how his chest is flushed and his hips twitch as you squeeze him tighter and tighter.

"i fucking hate you. you're the worst thing that's ever happened to me." his hand is wrapped around your throat. it doesn't matter if he stops thrusting; you'll fuck yourself on him, use him for yourself. and he think's you're so greedy.

your moans and words are choppy from the force. the table in the foyer wobbles as patrick throws both of your legs over one shoulder and goes deeper.

"god--i--hate you too. hate you so much. i fucking--" you gasp, throwing your head back. patrick laughs at you. "fucking wish we never met."

patrick pulls out. uses your body as a cum rag. paints your stomach, your lips, your face with it. and then he gets up and goes to his room.

you don't speak to each other until your mom and his dad get back a couple days later. it's early in the morning and you sit in the kitchen in complete silence. nobody but you notices that when patrick is finished with breakfast, he leaves the milk out. he looks at you and winks.

[mihawkhugs]

baby powder

haikyuu | kageyama x reader | soulmate au

a/n : you asked for fluff and i have delivered (i think)

Kageyama Tobio was an enigma to you. To put it simply and rather rudely, he was an absolute weirdo who scared the living shit out of you.

He sleeps in class, doesn't hand in his homework, and has a glare so cold it could stop global warming. He hangs out with this weird orange dude, and they were always fighting and screaming, like a bunch of baboons. 

Kageyama Tobio has the most intense look in the world. It’s especially evident when he’s in front of the vending machine, staring it down as though it killed his mother, promising vengeance and death to all who dare interrupt his daily sacrifice ritual. 

And for what? All for a packet of milk. 

Kageyama Tobio terrifies you. You sit in front of him in class, and when he’s not asleep, or brawling with his friend, he’s staring at you, or rather, the red string that intertwines the both of you. 

You had both gawked at each other (well he sort of glared at you) when you first saw each other at school. You weren’t sure who you were expecting for a soulmate, but it definitely wasn’t an angry oddball with a strange fixation for milk. 

Sometimes, he’d tug the string, which was sorta cute, if not for his incredibly intense stare that you could keenly feel, which would be cute if not for his very very intense face and "TALK TO ME AND DIE" aura.

You had wanted to approach your soulmate multiple times, but he scared you off each time, and frankly, you were too shy and awkward to approach him. 

Because despite his scary stare, he was damn good at what he did. On the court, he seemed to be much happier, and you’d occasionally catch him smiling. 

His intensity, focus and drive was incredibly attractive (so long it was about volleyball), and there were times you’d find yourself staring at him, awed by his talent, dedication and strength.

So as odd or scary Kageyama Tobio was, you couldn’t help but feel a little drawn to him. 

Now you weren’t sure of it was because of the red string, or because you were soulmates, but you’d often find yourself coming across him, be it from his runs, or at his games, or even when you were out buying groceries. 

And you’d try and offer him a shy smile,  a peace offering of sorts in a way. But he’d always glare at you, with those dark, scary, but incredibly enchanting midnight blue eyes of his, and you’d look away, feeling a little miffed and a little sorry for yourself. 

You couldn’t help but feel that Kageyama Tobio must not like you very much. 

You’d found him once, at a local library, sprawled on the desk, drooling a little as he slept the afternoon away. It was during winter, and you couldn’t help but feel you heart soften little as he laid there, noticing how soft and boyish he looked, and a little dumb as he drooled onto the table, snoring lightly. 

After a moment’s hesitation, you walked over, and draped the sweater you had been carrying onto him, hoping he wouldn’t catch a cold. You had noticed the setter’s diligence in taking care of his body, moisturising his hands and always warming up or stretching, so you couldn’t help but wonder what had made him so tired that he would fall asleep in public. 

It was both hard and easy, as you tried not to fall for him. He was definitely a weird one, but something about him seemed so earnest and sincere, especially when he played volleyball. 

You sighed. Pining after someone was never easy, especially since that someone seemed to dislike you so much. 

The next day, you found your sweater on your desk, with a little note that had a messily scrawled “thank you” on it. You couldn’t help but glance at your soulmate behind you, but he was fast asleep once more, looking oddly adorable and childlike, a stark contrast from the scary looking gaze he usually wore. 

You put the sweater on , feeling a little miffed that he didn’t even thank you personally, or tried to talk to you. 

As you focused in class, you couldn’t help but notice that your jacket now smelt of baby powder, comforting, light and cozy. It was nice, to say the least. 

As you stared out the window, tugging at the red string a little, you couldn’t help but muse to yourself, questioning if the Old Man Under The Moon made a mistake when he tied your red string to Kageyama Tobio, because it seemed like a relationship would never spark between the both of you. The boy had never spoke to you, despite being in the same class for nearly half a year, though you suppose, you had never spoke to him as well. 

Kageyama Tobio liked you. He liked you a lot. A little too much if you asked him. 

You were sorta pretty, sorta cute, and he would deny it off he was ever asked, but never in his life has he wanted to hug someone so badly. 

He was afraid though, afraid of you. Afraid that you’d find him too egoistical, too prideful, too loud, just as his old team did. You looked so small, so cute, almost like a little hamster, or a volleyball. 

He was, frankly speaking, terrified of how perfect you seemed. You’d smile at him sometimes in the hallways, and he’d stare just a little too long because your smile had no right being that pretty. 

In class, you were always so focused, so on task. Watching you made him feel happy, not that he’d ever admit that.  And when he passed by you in the street, he couldn’t help but look at you, because sometimes, he felt as though you could disappear at any moment because nothing good ever lasted for him.

When he had woken up in the library, a new article of clothing draped on his back, he had been thrilled to say the least. He would forever deny the manly squeal he let out that got him kicked out of the library. 

He had seen you wear that sweater many times, and had fantasised hugging you in it, or kissing your soft cheeks. He hugged the sweater, spacing out as he daydreamt about you. 

God, you smelled really good. 

Sometimes, he would tug on the red string, and seeing it move and float in the air amazed him. A string just for you and him to see, connected through space and time.

And he’d wonder, if the Old Man Under The Moon made a mistake, because his soulmate seemed just a little too good for him. 

You thumbed your sweater nervously, occasionally tugging at the loose threads, as the smell of baby powder engulfed your body. God, what detergent did he use? Because Kageyama Tobio smelled good. 

You hadn’t every really bothered with scents or perfumes before, but his smell reminded you of a lovely embrace, full of love and warmth, and familiarity. 

You couldn’t help but want to know what brand of detergent he was using, and you were sorta tired of his perpetually grumpy face and intense stares, as well as the lack of communication between the both of you, because you were soulmates for goodness sake. Clearly, someone was going to have to step up and it was clear that it wouldn't be him despite all his…energy. 

So you walked up to him as class ended, and gathered every bit of courage you had in your body (which was not much sadly), and tapped him on his arm, hoping you wouldn’t come across as a total creep who had been obsessively sniffing his jacket like it was marijuana. 

“Kageyama, what brand of perfume do you use? It smells really nice.”

He blinked down at you, and to your surprise and utmost delight, his entire face went beet red, resembling the stop sign you’d find on roads. 

He twiddled with the red string nervously as he looked everywhere but at you, before mumbling something incoherent. 

You couldn’t help but let an amused grin light up your face. So he was the shy type. 

You suddenly felt a burst of confidence, and an odd sense of cockiness fill you as Kageyama turned as red as your strings. It was cute, seeing what you thought was a scary and angry boy fumble with your soulmate strings, blushing bright red, eyes flitting about nervously. 

It was an endearing sight. 

You held out your hand, before asking amusedly, “Can I have your phone?” 

He blurted out instantaneously, hands holding his phone like he was offering you a sacrifice.

“Take it.”

And you couldn’t help but laugh, as his face turned vermillion. Turns out he wasn’t as scary as you thought. 

You typed out your number and contact on his phone, before flashing him a teasing grin, as Kageyama Tobio stood there in a daze, staring at his phone as though he had never seen one before. 

“Call me when you find that brand of perfume! It smells nice.” 

You left the classroom, feeling a little giddy, as Kageyama stood alone in the classroom, rooted to his spot, staring after you , as a singular thought echoed in his head dazedly. 

He didn’t use any perfume.

[goose-duck]

Creepypasta incorrect quotes ⭐

~~~~~~

Nina: spirit Halloween opened up early and my poor money decisions are always open so I bought a bunch of stuff

~~~~~~

Jeff: so...are we the best or the worst?

Toby: yes, sir.

~~~~~~

Jeff: he doesn't have eyeballs bro- he probably doesn't have balls either...

~~~~~~

Nina: he's ugly, I love him

~~~~~~

Y/N: There's just something abt his lack of a mouth and being less fluffy that makes me want him

Toby: he can't scream

Y/N: perfect

~~~~~~

Jeff: best friends!!

Y/N: nooOOOOO!!!!

~~~~~~

EJ: I learn from the mistakes of people who take my advice

~~~~~~

Y/N: heading into work~

*explosion*

Y/N: or maybe not-

~~~~~~

Nina: so romantic~

Jeff: *screaming*

Nina: romance <3

~~~~~~

Y/N: Jack, why am I in this room?

EJ: am I responsible for you moving from room to room now?

Y/N: yes.

EJ: then stay in that room.

~~~~~~

Toby: it's an elevator

Masky: this is a ladder, Toby.

Toby: imagination ✨

Hoodie: just because you put a sign that says "elevator" doesn't mean it's actually an elevator.

Toby: imagination ✨

~~~~~~

Y/N: but not me, because no one can get mad at me

Jane: I feel like in an hour we're all gonna be mad at you for something

~~~~~~

Toby: I made a house, what did you make?

Sally: a balloon

Toby: wonderful

~~~~~~

Jeff: just don't be blind

EJ: wow, you've cured me

~~~~~~

Toby: someone please take me off this fucking planet

~~~~~~

Y/N: Don't look at ceilings when ur tired. Never know what you'll see.

Toby: context, please

Y/N: Thought I had a fucking ceiling fan but it was just the balloons that I refuse to take down from my 13th birthday. I can't tell if I'm tired or stupid but I think either way it's correct.

Toby: it's probably both

Y/N: Exactly- It scared the shit outta me too-I saw it and was so fucking scared that I might have a ceiling fan in my room-

Toby: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA A FAN! ITS ON THE CEILING!!

Y/N: Y/N, Weakness: ceiling fans that may or may not be there

Toby: strength: walking in high heels, weakness: imaginary ceiling fans

~~~~~~

Hoodie: it's just a deer or something

Masky: bro, that is not a deer

~~~~~~

Jeff: *sees a spider* I should have just bombed the house the last time I saw one of you fuckers

~~~~~~

EJ: I'm doing good...im doing great...i have a headache.....

~~~~~~

Jeff: this is like when I threatened to steal your skin and bones and stuff

~~~~~~

Jeff: it's like if a heat stroke were a room

Y/N: me

Jeff: no, you're like if a heat stroke were a person

Y/N: oh

~~~~~~

Y/N: tree tops

Jeff: crispy

Nina: crispy tree tops?

Jane: why are they crispy?

EJ: why is everyone talking about trees??

~~~~~~

Jane: I'm moving the pumpkins, sorry, Toby

Toby: nooo, my life's work...

~~~~~~

Toby: would you be more offended if I got a mug of milk or orange juice?

Masky: milk.

~~~~~~

Jeff: they're all safety scissors, I don't think I can possibly be unsafe with them

*pile of about 10 safety scissors*

~~~~~~

LJ: I took some of his teeth and coloured them like candy corns

~~~~~~

Jeff: I'll steal ur hair, I'll take ur eyebrows and I'll steal ur skin too

Toby: please, that's all I have

Jeff: U have bones, mucles, veins, blood, cartilage and organs that I could take too

Toby: no thanks

~~~~~~

Hoodie: Masky is this big *puts his fingers together*

~~~~~~

Jeff: what are you doing dude?

Y/N: hugging? I think??

Jeff: it's weird...

Y/N: yeah, let's never do that again

~~~~~~

Y/N: die.

Toby: :0

Y/N: in a nice way..?

~~~~~~

Nina: I'm sure there's someone in Fabio who's named Russia

Jane: what?

Nina: yup.

~~~~~~

Jeff: I hit myself in the face with an eye!

EJ: give it to me!

~~~~~~

Ben: what the rational number?

~~~~~~

Toby: I think I failed at life...

~~~~~~

*Jeff and Toby leave the room*

Masky: well, that was a headache

Hoodie: which one?

EJ: both.

~~~~~~

*Jeff walks by*

Jane: look at him, he's greasy

~~~~~~

Y/N: why are you only offended when Jeff says something?

EJ: because it's Jeff

~~~~~~

Toby: well how's this right?

Jeff: because I'm here!

~~~~~~

Jane: I'm going to Halifax

Jeff: Hali-fuck you

~~~~~~

Sally: I saw a girl and she was young

Y/N: you're young

Sally: I'm 8

Y/N: exactly, young.

Sally: so you're a grandma?

~~~~~~

Toby: fellas, if you need me, I'll be living inside this cabinet

~~~~~~

Y/N: I'm afraid of togetherness

[twice-inamillion]

Shower Sex

Smut (Shower sex, stand and deliver, deep penetration, lovemaking, creampie, breastfeeding)

Chapter 211 

905 Words 

(They start off their honeymoon with shower sex)

You wake up to a parched throat and head towards the kitchen for a glass of orange juice. When you return to the room, you can’t help but admire how beautiful your wife, Jihyo, looks. How she sleeps after doing late-night activities always makes her sleep deeply. You walk towards the patio and watch the sunrise. As you admire the sunrise, you remember the outdoor shower with an ocean view and decide to try it out. 

You turn on the knob and start off with lukewarm water, dipping your head below the shower head and relaxing your body. The only thing you hear is the waves crashing onto the shore. 

Jihyo wakes up, eyes still closed and reaching for you, but only encounters an empty bed. She slowly opens her eyes and scans the room, but no luck. It isn’t until she hears the sound of water running from the bathroom that she decides to join you for some fun. She slowly makes her way into the bathroom, tippy-toeing so you don’t notice her coming in. 

Jihyo opens the glass door, makes her way inside the large shower, and sees you with your arm extended to the wall and your eyes closed. She gets behind you, gives you small pecks on your back, and uses her right hand to grab your limp cock. With a gentle grip, she starts to stoke you slowly, surprising you. 

“What are you doing?”

“Just wanted to surprise my husband. Why, I can’t?”

“Oh no, I just assumed you would sleep in a bit more.”

“I was, but I noticed you weren’t in bed, so I got lonely and decided to join you. I saw the opportunity to continue where we left off. What do you think” as she strokes your cock a bit faster.

“Fuck… you made the right choice.”

“You like how I stroke your cock?”

“Yeah…”

“Want me to go faster?”

Y…yes.”

She increases the pace and wakes your member to full length, causing your head to tilt back. Jihyo grabs some body wash, pours it on her breast, and uses it to wash your back. Your cock throbs as you feel her perky nipples and soft breast rub against your back. “What do you think of my wifely duties? You like?”

“Hell yeah, wish you could do this every time.” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. Only if you give a good fuck afterward.” 

“What if I was your back too?”

“Hmm… maybe.” 

You turn around and place her back in front of you. With the bottle of body wash, you pour it all over your chest and press it against her small frame. You wash her back and gather some soap to wash her breasts, which makes her moan. “Ahh, you really love my breast, huh.” 

“Yes, they’re the best. They are soft and bouncing. I love playing with them.” 

“Then why don’t you play with it from the front,” and turns around to face you. She cups her breasts and lets them fall, bouncing in glory. You pick her up and take her right tit into your mouth as she wraps her legs around your waist. Jihyo moans to her tit getting milked by your mouth and says, “I can feel your cock pressed against my lips. Don’t tease me with your hard cock; just fuck me already.” 

You let go of her nipple and say, “You've been extra horny lately, I love it” and take her tit back into your mouth. Her sensitive tits cause her to moan and grab onto your hair.

Without warning you impale her cunt with your thick cock, making Jihyo scream in pleasure. She lets go of your hair from the sudden reaction and panics about what to do with her hands. You pin her back against the wall, allowing Jihyo to grab onto the open slot that lets you view the beach. With your cock deep inside her, you start to move; she tightens the grip of her legs to prevent herself from falling. Your cock comes out and goes it, showing a bulge in her tummy. 

“Ahh fuck, your cock is messing me up, it wants to burst out of my tummy?” Jihyo pokes at it, “You’re too big; you’re going to break me!” 

Her words motivate you to fuck her harder and faster. You want to see her become a complete mess. It doesn’t take too long as you hear Jihyo scream, “ahh, ahh, I’m cumming!!” Jihyo bursts and covers your whole cock with love juice. Her whole body goes limp and you feel your cock ready to explode.

A large wave of cum pumps inside Jihyo, showing her bulged belly. The amount of cum you pumped into her makes her look pregnant again. After holding her, you pull your cock out and place her on the floor. All the cum that made her look pregnant pours onto the floor. She stumbles as she tries to walk, “My legs are numb; hold me.” She places one foot ahead of the other as she makes her way into your arms again.

After finishing your shower, the two of you enjoy room service before heading out. Jihyo and you take a selfie of your outfits, kiss you on the cheek, and snaps a photo. 

[sturnlova]

Traumatised Brothers ( C.S )

(Chris Sturniolo x Female reader)

( Warning :Smut, M receiving, time skip, i really never know what to put here, new to writing, not proof read all the way)

Chris : Orange

Y/N : Pink

Matt : Blue

Nick : Purple

( Word count : 900 )

Y/N POV:

As i stood in the boys kitchen warming up donuts for us to all eat Matt screams out “YOU LIKE HER” Chris slapped his chest really hard as he turned red, Nick just yelled at matt to shut the fuck up.

I turned around with the donuts and asked “ the fuck are yall talking about” “NOTHING nothing Matt is just being an idiot.” Suspicious i thought to myself but ignored it as we continued watching the movie Scream.

As i bite into the donut the donut feel apart leaving icing on my bottom lip and some crumbs on my boobs. When i noticed i had made a mess i wiped it off hoping no one saw but Chris saw and he also had focus on my boobs but i didn’t really mind because it’s Chris. Like the Chris i’ve liked for ages.

Chris cleared his throat and stood up “sorry i’ll be back i don’t feel to well..” Matt and nick asked if he was okay and i just stood up and rubbed his shoulder asking if he needed anything.

Chris responded back with “ i’m fine don’t worry” and quickly hurried off to his room.

Time Skip

By now Chris had been gone for 10 minutes and i had to check up on him but i didn’t need Matt and Nick being there to because i know Chris gets embarrassed when he is seen as “weak” even though getting sick is nothing to be embarrassed about. Plus they would tease me about liking him since they knew i liked him for a bit too long.

“ I’ll be back i need to go to the bathroom, don’t worry about pausing the movie” “ Ok we weren’t playing on it anyway” Nick said giggling.

I walked my way to Chris’ room and was about to open the door until i heard whimpers coming from the other side, and my name..?

I opened the door to be seen with Chris lying down with his hand in his pants moving up and down, along with his eyes closed and mouth open. He hadn’t noticed me until i crawled onto the bed positioning myself between his legs.

“Y/N what the fuck i’m sorry, i didn’t even realise you were here and i- fuck you must think i’m so disgust-“ I cut Chris off by kissing him passionately and palming his dick and pushing his hand away.

“ Chris do you want me to help you?” “ please Y/N please i need your help”

I pulled down his pants in a slow fashion all the way down to his ankles.

I spit on his tip and started using my hands to move the spit up and down well i rubbed my thumb on the slit of his tip. I put my lips on his digits and started bobbing my head up and down well his hand was in my hair with a strong grip making a ponytail, all the force he used made me moan in a “ hurts but feels so good” way.

As he started twitching in my mouth i knew he was close so i started going faster “ FUCKK Y/N DONT STOP IM SO CLOSE” he continued screaming my name. I didn’t stop but i did start using my hands instead of my mouth for i could speak to him “ Chris your brothers gonna hear, do you even care that they hear you scream and beg for me to jerk you off? “ Chris just moaned and spoke under his breath with a string of curses as he got milked out.

He had some of his cum on his happy trail and on my hand. I licked the mess off his stomach and then lifted my top to expose my breasts and took his cum off my hands and rubbed it all over my boobs as a substitute for lotion.

When it was all over my boobs and off my hands, i pulled my top back on and put chris’ pants back on. “ Y/N that was the best handjob i’ve ever experienced thank you like truly thank you, do you want me to finger you?” usually i wouldn’t deny this offer but today it was just about him “ Chris it’s ok baby i just wanted you to feel good.”

“ Chris do you like, like me because i know i like you, i think i love you.” “ i like you to Y/N i think i love you too.” We talked about how we would take this forward and whats gonna happen since we will be going on a date tomorrow at the park, Chris knew i loved the park.

As i got Chris decent and walked out his room we were shown with an empty house and a note left on the kitchen counter like it was the olden days reading “ message us to come back when Chris is done moaning your name, if you couldn’t tell this is from his 2 traumatised brothers Matt and Nick.”

Chirs just looked at me and pointed at the note with a facial expression that looked like this “😐” i responded back with a giggle.

[bratdotcom]

Burning Phoniex Prefix Prefix Flavor

( Stan Pines x reader || 3 AM craving shenanigans )

Stan's newest gripe with himself was that he had a tendency to censor his own words- even when alone in his own kitchen at 3 in the morning, he couldn't bear himself to cuss. Even when he talked out loud, with nobody watching.

"These," Stan coughs loudly, punching his chest. Small orange particles leave his breath and are visible in the dimming light of the kitchen's dining room. "These got a kick to 'em-" He fans his tongue hurriedly, as if that'd help with the burning sensation inside his mouth. Even with his mouth practically on fire, he couldn't bear himself to utter a word of vulgarity. Not even under his breath.

He gets up from his seat, holding the ramen packet he ate out of up in the air so he can see the packaging better. He felt like he was examining a hundred dollar bill and somewhat humiliated for being practically brought to his knees over some snack he was craving in the middle of the night.

"Kick me in the knee." he says subsequently after two solid minutes of adjusting and readjusting his glasses to read the words on the packaging properly. Stan realizes that he grabbed one of your convenience store snacks by accident. Those spicy instant ramen packs with the screaming bird-like thing on them. This wasn't very convenient for him right now.

"Stan?" Your voice calling out to him almost knocks him onto his ass. He steps away from the light emitting from the hallway as you peek your head into the kitchen.

He tries his best to act discreet as he hides the empty pack of spicy ramen behind his back. "Hey, uh," Stan was at a loss for words. He secretly hoped you didn't see him holding one of your snacks behind his back.

"What're you doin' up this late?" He decides to say, directing the topic of conversation to you. "You almost scared the heck outta me. You ever tried knocking before?”

"I was hungry." You reply, stepping one slippered foot into the room. "Besides, what's there to knock on? Other than a door frame full of splinters?" You joke in response, making Stan go quiet for a split second to think of some sort of comeback.

"...you got a point there." He says, pointing at you with his finger. Using the same hand he hid behind his back.

"Is that my ramen?" You immediately ask, no hesitation at all.

"...no?" Stan was sweating now, not from nervousness, but because of how spicy the seasoning packet was. He forgot to drink water. Not milk. Water. He should've gone grocery shopping when he had the chance.

He could feel his eyes start to sting again.

It was unbearable. Trying to hide hide how much eating just a single pack of ramen was affecting him. Just one pack was enough to bring him to his knees, clutching his stomach. He did not have the joints for that.

He can see the concern flash on your face as you stare back at him. "Stan, you look red." you point out. "Listen, I don't really care if you eat my ramen or not. Those things come fifty cents a pack. Are you okay?" He can hear the care in your tone as you speak.

He responds with a cough. And then another cough. You cringe at the sound. "Okay, you don't need to talk." For once in his life, Stan shuts himself up. All because he couldn't tolerate some spice in some ramen. He was glad that you and him were the only ones up in the shack tonight. Guiding him to a chair, you pat his back a couple of times.

"Don't die while I have my back turned, okay?" you pull away from his side to grab him a glass of water. He needed that. Stan had manners, sometimes. If he could, he'd say thank you right now.

He sighs in relief, leaning against the back of his chair. "That hits the spot." he catches his breath, taking another drink from the glass you gave him.

"Please don't tell anyone about this." He says, wiping his mouth on his hand.

Stan quickly points a finger at you. "Don't use it as blackmail either- I know how you people work." He adds, making you laugh quietly. "Woah there, buddy, calm down." You hold your hands up defensively. "Do I look like a narc to you?" You ask, putting your hands down.

You had a point there. You weren't a narc. You knew where he kept his gold jewelry. He trusted you enough.

"...you're right." He says, after a moment of thinking to himself for a bit too long. He needed to go back to sleep.

🎱 : LIKED THE FIC? VISIT GRAVITY FALLS DOT CO FOR MORE!!

As if you could read the thoughts going through his head, you yawn. "We should probably hit the hay. We got a long day of scammin- I mean welcoming people to the shack." His correction makes you laugh again as you help him up from his seat.

[lillsisamarshmallow]

Rainy days, mysterious notes, and wet apologies (8)

Summary: Y/n forms closer bonds with her hybrid roommates, sometimes a bit too close, the mysterious notes the Y/n keeps receiving are making her hope that it’s just a prank and Y/n gets an apology from someone.

Word count: 6.3k

Warnings: Threats, angst, illusion to criminal acts, Let me know if I missed any!

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Why is it so damn hot?!

I sat up so I could see my bed and figure out why I was so hot, glancing to my left I quickly ripped back the blankets expecting it to just be tangled up, but what I saw was far from that. Lying beside me was Hoseok, his orange fox ears flattened on his head, he groaned before shuffling around a bit and reaching for the blankets without opening his eyes, he pulled them back up to his head so you would only be able to see his hair and ears.

What on earth is he doing here!

I pulled the blankets back down away from him again hoping that my mind was playing tricks with me, and it wasn’t really Hoseok in my bed, he let out an annoyed sigh before sitting up, his hair was messy and sticking out all over the place, he barely opened his eyes as he faced towards me.

"Will you stop that? I'm trying to sleep."

"W-What are you doing in my bed?" I said to him still a little freaked out.

"We told you there was no room on the couch, and you said you would give us your bed if there was enough room, and there is." He explained as he kept patting the bed looking for the blankets which I kept moving slightly further away from him.

"That’s not what I meant! I meant that you - wait, we? -"

"Will you two be quiet and stop moving? Some of us want to keep sleeping." Said a tired voice, I glanced to where the voice came from, I let out a scream as I saw another person in my bed.

Why is everyone in my bed!

At the end of the bed, lying sideways was another bunch of blankets, this one had black cat ears sticking out the top along with black hair, the sound of someone shushing me filled my ears as I turned back to Hoseok. He had his finger to his lips indicating me to be quiet, he slowly moved his finger over to my lips before grabbing the blankets and lying back down.

"I- "

Hoseok’s hand shot up, covering my mouth again stopping me from talking. "No more talking, Y/n." He said sleepily and then put his arm back down and into the blankets. He shuffled a bit more before stilling, I could still see the slight rise and fall under the blanket from his breathing. I turned to look back at Yoongi, he had slightly shifted, but seemed as though he had gone straight back to sleep.

What the...

I didn't want to wake the boys again, they clearly wanted to sleep, and they obviously needed it, I slowly slid out from under the covers and tried to neaten up my side of the bed before rounding and headed into the bathroom to wash up. When I came back out both boys were still sleeping in the bed, the blankets were tossed and messy, but they seemed comfortable, so I crept out and closed the door trying not to disturb them. Walking into the kitchen I saw most of the other boys sitting around doing their own thing, it was mid-morning, so most of them were awake, opening the fridge I grabbed out some milk to make cereal, as I was choosing which flavour I heard knocking at the front door, the boys must have heard it too as their conversations died down and their attention was now focused on the door.

As I made my way to the door some of the boys followed behind, they seemed to be a bit on edge, but followed me none the less, curios as to who was here since I never mentioned anyone coming over, I unlocked the door pulling it open, on the other side, stood Jiyoon.

"Hey Y/n, I just came to- " Her words seemed to fall short as I saw her glance behind me, her gazed lingered at the boys behind me while I scratched my brain trying to remember why she was here.

"Oh crap, Yeah, I'll go get it. I totally forgot you were coming by.” I confessed to her, I had forgotten that she was coming over to pick up the ointment I borrowed and her food processor, she let me borrow it a few weeks ago for a recipe, since I don't have my own. I opened the door wider for her to come in, she seemed hesitant, but followed me anyways, I turned the corner and began digging through the cupboard trying to get out the appliance which I pushed to the back along with all the other unused containers, lugging out the large object, I plopped it onto the bench and turned to Jiyoon.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't even introduce you guys. Jiyoon this is Jungkook, Jimin and Seokjin, they're staying with me until the storm passes." I explained to her feeling a bit guilty.

"O-oh, uh, nice to meet you… guys." She said as she reached for the processor, her eyes seemed to wander around until she looked towards the couch clearly noticing the other two boys, Taehyung and Namjoon, who were watching the interaction from afar, the boys seemed to nod at her greeting before she made her way back to the door. "Thanks Y/n."

I smiled letting her know she was welcome, and just like that as fast as she got here, she was gone, so I went back to making my cereal and eating at the table, Jimin came over to sit with me and shortly after Jungkook came to sit down too. It didn't take long before it was time for us to head out so the maintenance could come and fix the sink, it took some time to wake up the two men occupying my bed and after some whining, pleading and making a deal, which they definitely came out on top of, we eventually all got out the door and headed for the elevator. 

Once the doors opened, I stepped out looking around before spotting some seating over by a window, I made my way over with all the boys following behind me. I saw a few people glance our way, but I paid them no mind, we made it over to the seats and everyone sat down in their own chairs that were situated around a small coffee table.

"Okay, maintenance said that it would take an hour or two, so we'll be here for a bit." I smiled at the boys. "They have a small library and cafe if we get hungry and I bought some card games if you want." I placed the deck of uno cards on the table and went searching through my bag again getting out my phone and notepad just in case, the small coffee table had various magazines and what looked to be a biography, which Namjoon had picked up and started reading.

Yoongi sat to the left of me and Namjoon to my right, Jungkook and Jimin sat opposite me and they seemed to look a bit awkward and kept looking over to me, deciding to ignore their antics I instead looked around the lobby, I could see Yeonjun over at the service desk area chatting with Soobin another worker, they seemed to notice me and sent a small wave, looking over to the entrance, coming in wet from the outside rain was Jessi, her long hair was clinging to her skin as she quickly grabbed a towel from a cart, she looked around and met eyes with smile giving a polite smile, although far away I could still see the confusion that was on her face as she looked over our way before looking away.

I turned again, but this time someone was in the way, Yoongi, he still looked just as tired as when I woke him up before, he seemed to relax more, but still kept his eyes barely open, his hair was a bit messy so I reached forward, leaning on my chair, using my finger I swept away a chunk of hair from his face and tucked it back so it wouldn’t bother him, I noticed some fur on his black cat ears that was sticking out, like someone brushed it the wrong way, I moved my hand further up and ran it over the uneven fur a few times before it started to match in better with the rest before smiling at my handy work and bringing my hand back down to my lap.

Yoongi turned to face me, he seemed a bit shocked, but I didn’t give him time to say anything as I turned around to look out the window.

Most of the boys fell into their own conversations and thankfully time was passing fast, my chair was closest to the window, so I spent my time watching the rain and plants. The rain was torrential now, heavy and nonstop, the clouds were so dark that everything had dark shadows over it. But the week was almost ending so this was the last stretch before it started to slow down, I watched as the water droplets landed and slid down the leaves of the plants outside, seeing the droplets race down the window to reach the end at the bottom.

"Y/n, can we go to the cafe?"

I turned around to face the boys again, I smiled and nodded my head before scooping up my belongings and swinging my bag over my shoulder, I waited for the others to stand up and then started heading towards the cafe.

Along the way I spotted Yeonjun again as he made his way over to us. "Hey Y/n, what's up? Everything okay? I don’t see you down here much." He said, stopping in front of me.

"Hey, maintenance is fixing some things in my apartment, so I figured we would go to the cafe." I said to him, I saw him look behind me confused, but smiling politely. "Oh, these are my friends, they all are staying with me for a little while." I explained, giving a quick introduction to each person.

"Well, I have to get back to work, so I'll see you around. It was nice to meet you guys!" Yeonjun said as he hastily made his way back to the front desk. We continued on our way to the cafe, a few people here and there gave a polite wave, except for the couple who lived under me, who just so happened to be sitting at the café entrance, Jangho and Eun, they seemed to glare at us all as we passed by.

Sheesh

 Finally, we got inside the cafe and took a seat at a booth, everyone got a menu, and we began looking through them. "Order whatever you guys would like. I think I'm going to get this one." I told them, pointing to what I was interested in and showing to Jungkook who had raced Jimin to sit next to me, he nodded as he looked over the rest of the menu.

I was sitting across from Hoseok, and Taehyung sat next to his right, followed by Yoongi then Namjoon. On my side of the booth Seokjin sat across from Namjoon, followed by Jimin and then came Jungkook who was next to me, thankfully they had booth for 8 people. Once everyone knew what they wanted me and Jungkook went up to the register where the staff took our orders, I felt bad that we had such a large order as I could see her struggling to get everything down on the computer and repeat it back to us, in the end we made sure we had everything and gave her our table number then went back to the booth.

It took a while for the food to come out but when it did, we all dug in, my food was great and looking around the table it seemed that most of the boys liked theirs as well. I quickly grabbed out my notepad flipping a few pages to find the right one before scribbling down some of the things we had ordered.

"What are you doing?" I looked over to see Taehyung and Hoseok looking back at me, Hoseok had his face stuff with food and his cheeks puffed out, he looked just like a chipmunk, their gaze lowered looking at the note pad under my hand.

"Oh, well, I need more ideas for the menu at the cafe, so when I find things that I like, I write them down, so I can research them and see if they'd work for the new menu." I said smiling before looking down to finish the name of the dish.

"What do you need a new menu for?” Yoongi asked. “What’s wrong with the old one?”

“Oh, there’s nothing wrong, but every few months we try and switch it up, try new things, see what popular, and what isn’t.”

I continued to explain to them how a new menu works like an experiment, we see what people like and we keep it on the menu, whatever isn’t selling we’ll we take off the menu, We spent the rest for the time we had at the café talking, I’m sure the staff were annoyed that we didn’t leave, but it wasn’t against the rules or anything, a friend of mine Giselle, had spotted us at some point came over to say hello, we hadn’t seen each other in a while so it was nice to catch up.

We left the café and began walking back to the room, maintenance rang to let me know that they had finished, and we could go back up, the seven hybrids behind me never seemed to fail to catch everyone attention, as I felt many eyes on us during the trip back, everyone got in the elevator, and we pressed the level we needed to go to.

“Hey, Y/n.”

 I turned to my side to see Chaeryeong standing there looking at me. “Hey, Chaeryeong, how are you? All this rain? You must be loving it!”

“It’s so calming and I get to spend more time catching up on my shows.” She laughed, we chatted for a bit, and I introduced the boys behind me, Chaeryeong seemed hesitant to greet them, but did none the less, soon enough we got to our level, saying goodbye, we headed back to the apartment.

As soon as we got into the apartment everyone seemed to lay down because they were exhausted from being out and about and from socialising, I checked on the new tap, checking it out and making sure it works before getting started on dinner.

I didn’t tell Seokjin I was cooking this time as I wanted him to rest, since they got here he has been helping around the clock, cleaning, cooking, he even made sure the couch beds were neat. I used some left-over kimchi that my mum had gifted me and some other ingredients to make kimchi stew with and a side of rice, it had been a while since I made a nice hot meal that wasn’t something quick and easy to get me through the night and to the next day. I plated up the food which ended using almost all of my dishes, meaning that I’d probably be up late washing them all, and started placing it on the table in front of the seats, leaving two on the other side for myself and whoever chose to stand up due to the lack of seats.

It didn’t take long for the boys to notice the food was being put out and they all came out from the rooms and areas and began to sit down at the table, all the boys sat down except for Namjoon who stood up as he usually did, once everyone was here, I started eating my food.

I looked up to notice that no one else was eating, they were just kind of looking down at their plates. “Is everything okay? Do you guys not like Kimchi stew? I-I can make something else!” I said suddenly, getting nervous that they didn’t like it, different meals raced through my head, but as I turned to go get something else, someone finally said something.

“No, it’s okay Y/n. It’s just…” Seokjin trailed off stopping his sentence not knowing what to say next and looking around the table.

“This is the first hot home cooked meal that we’ve had in a long time.” Yoongi finished for him, I turned to look at him, he seemed sad, but almost happy at the same time, the room seemed to fall into an odd silence as no one knew what to say next.

“Oh… I see. Well, I hope it’s good then!” I said trying to cheer up the mood, I saw a few smiles break out among all their faces. “Please, eat! I haven’t made any in a while so hopefully it’s as good as I remember.” I said, as I then continued to eat my own food, it took few seconds, but eventually everyone else started eating too.

“Y/n! This is delicious!”

“It’s amazing!”

“Mmmhhff!” The boys gushed at the food which made me blush, I thanked them for the compliments as we all fell into a conversation, laughing and giggling, telling jokes and old stories, it was like the tension from before was completely gone, despite only knowing them for the past few weeks it felt like I had known them all for years. My heart swelled as we all talked over each other, the sound filling the room, I could see the pure happiness on their faces, full of food, but still screaming at each other, and their big smiles, except of one person, Namjoon looked uncomfortable, troubled, almost sad in a way, as though he was fighting a war behind his brown eyes, not truly knowing where he stood on his own battle ground, he put on a fake smile when everyone started laughing and kept his head down eating his food.

Is he alright?

I reached my hand out towards his shoulder, he looked up at me from his slouched position, but just as I was about to ask him, I heard a knock at the door.

Who could that be?

I excused myself from the table and headed over to the door trying to be quick so I could get back, I flicked the lock and pull the door open, but no one was there, I poked my head out and looked left then right, a small glimpse of hair swishing past the corner, too far to make out a colour, but other than that there was no one in sight. It must have been more teens playing games or something by knocking and running, so I stepped back and closed the door.

As the door closed a gush of air from underneath pushed into the hallway, I heard a sound and felt something touch my feet, so I looked down only to find a piece of paper.

That's odd.

I bent down and picked it up carefully, it was a plain piece of paper, regular size, but it was folded in half, hesitantly, I pulled open the paper to see what was inside. Cut up letters from a magazine jumbled around the centre of the paper forming words, there were still some traces of glue around the edges and some of the letters stuck up at their corners.

‘Get those filthy animals out of here!’

What?

My eyes scanned over the paper, over and over again, trying to make sense of the words.

Why would someone leave a note like this?

Surely this is a joke, right?

My hands started shaking slightly as I became lost in my thoughts until someone yelled out to me asking if everything was okay. I couldn't let the boys see this letter, so I quickly scrunched it up and stuffed it into my pocket, turning back and making my way to the table.

Surely that’s just a joke, right?

The note plagued my thoughts for the rest of the night, but I tried my best to still have fun and enjoy the night with the boys, most of them seemed to head to bed around the same time, so after we all said our goodnights, I retreated back into my own room to try and get some sleep.

‘Get those filthy animals out of here!’

‘Get out! They don’t belong here!’

‘Freaks! Take them back to the pound.’

The words kept repeating over and over in my head.

‘Get those filthy animals out of here!’

‘Get out! They don’t belong here!’

‘Freaks! Take them back to the pound.’

Over the past 2 days I had received two more notes, one for each day that passed, so far the boys hadn’t seen them, but it got pretty close when Namjoon was over near the door, I was able to convince him that they were just bills and I had it covered, though he didn’t seem very pleased when I took the letters off him.

I couldn’t let the boys see these notes, even though their just pranks by some teens, they’d still hurt them. I double checked that all three notes were securely hidden in the top drawer, at the back and under my tissues, I took them out and counted three pieces on folded up paper, I let out a sigh knowing that they were all their and they were safe from their eyes before putting them back in their hiding space and closing the drawer.

I hope they’re just bad jokes from selfish teens. Surely no one would say that stuff seriously, right?

They can’t find out about those.

I sighed as I removed the blankets from over me trying not to disturb the fox and cat hybrids who I had become a custom to in the morning, and slid out from the comfy bed, the sky was looking lighter today, but was still full of clouds. Emerging from my room I spotted a sleepy looking Jungkook sitting on the couch along with a sleeping Namjoon, I saw Seokjin in the kitchen, and I could hear Taehyung and Jimin in the room.

“Morning guys.” I yawned waving at Seokjin as I made my way to the couch sitting down near Jungkook, who seemed to perk up at my entrance and started to move closer to me before Jimin came running out of the room and straight over to us throwing himself half on the couch and half on me, I groaned as the impact came and forced the air out my lungs making me cough a few times before calming down and slightly giggling in my tired state.

Jimin stayed still for a bit, trying to ensure his place before he eventually turned so he was lying on his back with his head resting on my lap, a large cheeky grin adored his features and a couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Morning Jimin.” I said as I subconsciously moved my hand up to his hair and slightly started to play with it.

“Morning Y/n.” Jimin said as he closed his eyes relaxing. “Did you sleep well?” He asked, as I kept running my fingers through his hair, I looked over to Jungkook who had seemed to deflate, using my spare hand I reached out for his arm and dragged him closer to both me and Jimin.

“I slept well, Hoseok kept moving all night, so I kept waking up.” Both boys seemed to let out an understanding hum which lead me to assume that Hoseok constant twisting and turning last night was normal.

I heard some groaning and we all looked to the other half of the couch, Namjoon groaned again before moving his blanket and getting up off the couch, he seemed to stop for a second and looked at us before he continued on his way to the kitchen.

“You’re my pillow now, Y/n.” Jimin sighed as he turned and moved his hands up to his face before snuggling into my leg. I smiled and giggled at his antics before softly chatting to Jungkook, not wanting to wake up Jimin.

It didn’t take long for Jimin to drift off to sleep, so he must have been quite tired, I kept trying to move my hands away from his hair, but he would wake up and drag my hand right back to where it was, eventually Jimin seemed to be in a deep enough sleep that my movements didn’t bother him, taking advantage of the situation I held up his head before swiftly sliding off the couch and placing his head on Jungkook lap who had agreed to let him rest so I could get up.

I walked over to the kitchen and got myself a cup of water from the new sink, I drank the water while looking out the window, the many plants of the balcony caught my attention, and I decided that id should tend to them.

I slid open the balcony door and squeeze outside with the plants, it didn’t take long for me to get started, I was moving the plants so they would be in the sun when the rain stopped as well as just some general pruning and cleaning up. I was halfway through moving one of the heavier plants when someone decided to come and join me.

I didn’t even have to see his face to know who it was, although I’m sure if I had I would have been quite concerned, the dark grey, large tail, swaying steadily behind him, the tips littered with lighter greys and some white spiked fur. He didn’t say anything at first, there was a bit of awkward silence before he reached down and grabbed hold on the large pot plant I had and moved it across to the other side of the balcony.

“Thanks.” I said as I finally looked up at him, his dark hair and ears were right above me, but his eyes were focused elsewhere, like he was avoiding this confrontation, but when he finally looked at me I began to grow confused and slightly concerned. “Namjoon? What’s wrong? Did you break the sink again?” I asked him as I remembered seeing him head into the kitchen this morning, I began to stand up, but he put his hand out signalling me not to, so I hesitantly lowered myself back down.

“N-no, it’s nothing like that, don’t worry. It’s just…” Namjoon seemed to fall short of his words. “Can I talk to you?”

“Uhm, y-yeah, of course. Here.” I said, pulling out the chairs for us to sit. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Uhh- well, it’s just-” Namjoon kept stumbling over his words, but I assured him that what ever it was that it was okay and to just take his time. “How I treated you back at the alley, that was horrible, and how I’ve been treating you, it isn’t right and it isn’t me, I was just trying to protect myself and my pack, and keep us all from getting hurt again, but you’ve been nothing but nice to us, giving us food, taking care of us, offering your home for us to stay in so we wouldn’t get sick from the rain. No one has ever been that nice to us- to me, and I guess I just didn’t know if it was true, no one just helps someone for free, there’s always a catch, always a dept owed…”

Namjoon trailed off before getting back to what he was saying.

“…I tried to find out what it was, what you wanted from us in return, workers, bait, punching bags, …” Namjoon didn’t finish what he was going to say, but I knew what he meant, my heart was aching for him and how scared he had been, thinking that I was going to hurt him. I could see how he kept looking down and away from me, in the corner of my eye, for just a split second I caught sight on something dropping down from his face. I reached my hand out and held on to his, squeezing it, letting him know that he didn’t have to keep talking about that.

 “I couldn’t accept that someone like you would want to help someone like us out of the kindness of your heart, someone like me. I was blinded by my own negative thoughts into thinking that no one would ever want to help someone like me.” Namjoon finally looked up at me, looking into my eyes as he kept talking. “But I see now that you aren’t this horrible person who is going to hurt us, they all love you, I can see it, the way Jungkook lets you touch his ears, the way Tae lets you watch him paint, Jimin is pretty much attached to you, Yoongi lets you wake him up, whenever I tried he would almost bite my hand off, Hobi lets his guard down around you, and Jin loves your cooking. You’ve gone out of your way to help us so much and I don’t know how I could ever repay you. I guess what I’m trying to tell you is. I’m sorry, Y/n, for all the horrible things I did, I hurt you, physically, emotionally, I destroyed your home and yet you still chose to keep helping. I’m sorry, I hope you can accept this a-and I hope we can maybe start over?” Namjoon finally finished his rant like speech, he kept looking into my eyes after he finished speaking, he wasn’t crying, but he had wet streaks down his face, I was completely speechless at everything he had said.

I felt a shift in Namjoon, I guess I was too slow to respond as he began to stand up. “I-it’s fine, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I’ll get out of your way once the rain is gone, o-or I can go now-“ Before Namjoon could finish anymore of what he was saying I quickly stood up with him and wrapped my arms around him and brought him down closer to me, I could fell his wet tears that were once pooling out of his eyes and running down his face, now colliding with my neck and shoulder as a few strays kept falling.

“Namjoon, it’s okay, I don’t know what happened to you guys before I found you all, but whatever it was that made you feel this way wasn’t good. I want to help you all and the only thing I want in return is just your company, but even if you didn’t want my company I’d still help you guys. You don’t owe me anything and you don’t have to leave either.” A few on my own tears were now making their way down my face, thankfully we were outside so the other boys couldn’t see or hear anything. “Having you and your pack around, these have been the best days I’ve had in years, and I wouldn’t trade if for anything, no matter what you think, you are worthy of this, my help and kindness and everyone else’s, your worthy Namjoon and I want to keep helping you. I accept your apology.

Namjoon gripped onto the back on my shirt tighter as he kept mumbling in coherent words, I ran my hand up and down his back, letting him know that everything was okay, I had never seen him so broken. I pulled back from Namjoon and held his hand in mine, I smiled at him, and he returned it, he quickly brought his hands up and rubbed them up and down his face.

I hadn’t notice before, but since Namjoon had come outside the rain had been steadily getting heavier, it wasn’t pouring and on the balcony not a lot of the rain got to us, but we were both wet from the rain, figuring that we were already wet I decided that we could just continue to sit out here for a little while, but not too long as I didn’t want us to get sick, we could both calm down and I could finish up what I was doing with the plants, we both sat back down on the floor so I could continue with the plants with Namjoon’s help, a nice relaxing activity.

It was awkward at first, eventually we fell into conversation and started to get to know each other, Namjoon was telling me about when they had all met and how hard it was for them in that alley, I didn’t want to pry too much so I didn’t ask too many questions and just let him talk about what he was comfortable with. In turn Namjoon asked me about the café and how it came to be, I told him that I had always loved baking and had been doing it for years, I also wanted my own independency from my parents and their often times controlling habits, they were fully supportive of my decision, though for the first few years they had preferred that I worked for them instead.

As we were pruning the plants and removing some of the dead leaves, the door opened up, looking up I saw Seokjin peering out. “Hey, Y/n, can I use the kitchen to cook something?” He asked from halfway behind the door.

“Yeah, of course you can, no need to ask!” I said smiling back at him whilst doing hand gestures, Seokjin nodded his head before retreating back inside the apartment. We had peace and quiet for about 10 more minutes before Jimin came knocking on the door.

“Y/n.” He whined, dragging out my name.

“Hmm?” I hummed in response as I was in the middle of snipping off a dying piece from one of the plants as I looked up at him over at the door. “What’s up?”

“Let’s watch a movie, hyung is almost done cooking.” He said perking up and excited, I laughed and nodded my head before picking up all the green scraps, I stood up and waited for Namjoon to join me before we headed inside.

Jimin must have already told the other boys as most of them were already seated somewhere in the lounge, I dumped the waste into the correct recycling before heading into my bedroom to change out of my clothes and wipe down my face, they had both gotten wet and dirty whilst being outside.

I slipped off my dirty clothes and put on a large jumper, making sure to put the others in the washing basket.

I’ll have to do some washing soon, I think we all are running out of clean clothes.

I came out from my room and headed straight for the kitchen because whatever Seokjin was making it smelt amazing, I peered around him to try and see what was cooking, but he must have notice me as he moved slightly so I couldn’t see. “It’s a surprise.” He said before mixing whatever was in the pot.

I made my way over to where most of the other boys were, taking a seat between Hoseok and Namjoon, the younger ones had brought out a bunch of their blankets and pillows and where now sitting on the ground in front of me, Yoongi was sitting next to Hoseok and there was enough room beside Namjoon for Seokjin to sit when he was done in the kitchen.

It didn’t take long before we all had our plates of food, it smelt delicious and looked great too, I took the first bite.

“Seokjin! This is amazing!” I gushed as I took another bite, I had never had this dish prepared this way and everything about it was perfect to me, Seokjin replied to my praise and said, ‘thank you’.

“I didn’t know you could cook this well!” I said surprised, I knew Seokjin cooked a few times while he was here, but those were just basic dishes.

“I can cook more often if you’d like, I don’t mind.” He smiled back at me from behind Namjoon, who had sunk into the couch so me and Seokjin could see each other better.

“Cook as much as you’d like, this is so good!” I yelled, stuffing my face with more. “Youf have to ghive me recipe, for the cafe” I did my best, but it came out kind of muffled. “I would be honoured.” Seokjin said, we hastily fell into a conversation about how he had prepared the dish in such little time and how he changed a few things from traditional recipes.

I need my note pad!

“When will they stop talking about how to measure flour?”

“We want to watch the movie, c’mon! Talk about secret ingredients later!”

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow Seokjin.”

“Jin”

“Huh?”

“You can call me Jin.”

I smiled at Jin before laughing at the other members antics, I grabbed the remote and we began to search for the movie, thankfully some of the boys already had something in mind so it didn’t take too long to choose one.

We spent all night watching movies and all sitting in the lounge together, hearing all the boys laugh and yell, even Namjoon, made my heart swell with happiness and joy as I watched them all have fun together as a pack, carefree and safe, with me. We didn’t go to bed until late that night, too busy talking about one of the movies we had watch were a woman is in an arranged marriage with this mafia, crazy unrealistic. Me, Yoongi, and Hoseok said our goodnights and we went into my room, Hoseok on his side, all snuggled up, I slipped into my side and Yoongi laid across the bed down the bottom.

That was the best night sleep I had ever had, quiet, peaceful, comfy, good memories that I would never forget.

Until I woke up

“Y/nnn!”

A/n: Hello! Chapter 8 is here and on time for the most part, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and enjoyed it too, I had to rush most of it over the weekend, but I hope it came out alright. I felt so bad when I was writing Namjoon’s little speech, and I was trying to hint at the backstories without giving it away. This is the longest chapter I’ve written (6.3k words! Not including the A/n or info parts) and I want to know if you guys prefer these longer chapters (5k-6k) like this one and chapter 7 or if you’d prefer the shorter chapters (2k-3k long), the shorter ones are quicker and sometimes easier to write and the longer one take me a lot longer to write, but I’m usually able to include more things that would be cut out of the shorter ones, I enjoy writing both, but I wanted to know what you would prefer. I hope everyone has a great day or night & Thankyou all for reading! 💜