#i also have grand ideas for my kitchen and bathroom but if i get a room mate idk if theyd go for it

[scyaxe]

i want an aesthetic bedroom when i move out, and i've already started vaguely planning, but i don't think anything i currently own would match my vision. and i can't get rid of most of it bc i really like it and/or use it

[harmonictechnicality]

*no rest for the wicked*

my teensy contribution to @thefreakandthehair's spicy six summer collection 💖 | word count: 3k | rating: T | ao3 link | also, this wouldn't exist if @chocoarts didn't send me a sketch that immediately set off sparklers in my brain so bless youuu ✨

Twenty-six hours. That’s how long Eddie has been up. Twenty-six hours and twelve minutes. The heaviness hanging in his eyes is medieval-level torturous, and the cramp in his left calf is probably permanent by now. 

A sane person who enjoys sleeping might be asking, ‘Why? Why put yourself through this when there’s a perfectly decent bed down the hall?’ And Eddie would be forced to reply back with two, simple words:

Concert. Tickets.

That’s right, Eddie is actively murdering his own brain cells to win two vip tickets on the radio. Twenty-seven hours ago, it seemed like a grand idea. Genius, even. It’s free and minimal effort - he just has to call the station every hour on the dot. No biggie, right?

Ha, sure. Tell that to the muscles in his eyelids.

“How much longer do you have?” Chrissy asks, snagging a magazine from the stack on the couch.

Eddie checks his watch. Huffs out a laugh. “Let’s just say, I could watch the entire Star Wars trilogy including the credits for each one.”

“Translating to...?”

“Seven-ish hours.” Robin quickly chimes. She pops out of her bedroom and joins Chrissy’s side, instantly threading their hands together. They share a look, one that makes Eddie believe in nice things, even in his state of misery. It’s their superpower, injecting their optimistic outlook into the atmosphere. Infectious in the best way. 

“I always forget that you speak fluent nerd.” Chrissy snorts.

“Ouch.” Robin gasps and pulls away, stomping off to their room. Too dramatic to be believable. “Get back to bed before I actually feel offended by that.”

Normally, Eddie is charmed by how hopelessly in love his roommates are with each other. But right now, they are his mortal enemies (well, tied with The Clock), because they get to sleep and he gets to stare at the lightbulb in the ceiling fan. Every now and then, it flickers, which never fails to startle him. 

Good. He desperately needs the extra alertness. 

Another forty-five minutes go by before anything noteworthy happens. Eddie’s other roommate gets off his night shift around one in the morning. The front door squeals as it opens, crackling all the adrenaline leftover in Eddie’s body. 

“Scared the shit out of me, man.” Which could’ve been a literal statement if Eddie hadn’t just taken a bathroom break.

“Gotta get this door fixed.” Steve says. That’s what he always says when it creaks. The reaction never changes, always skating his fingers over the door hinges, mouth twisting to the side. Hands on his hips in disapproval. Eddie has to look away before Steve breaks out his insufferably cute ‘foot tap’ routine. “Hey - why are you still up?”

Ah, yes. Just what Eddie needed. A reminder that it’s fucking late. He finds the energy (or common decency, who knows) to point at the phone. Then to the radio.

“You’re still doing that, huh?”

Eddie nods twice.

“Damn, I’ve never heard you this quiet.” Steve sounds genuinely surprised. A little too smug for Eddie’s liking. “Didn’t know your mouth could stay in a straight line for this long.”

There it is. The rich boy smartassery that will never die. Always lurking in the depths of his genetic makeup.

Eddie claps, total deadpan.

The conversation lulls while Steve messes around in the kitchen for a bit. He’s noisily opening cabinets and clanking dishes around in the sink. Eventually, he walks back into the living room with two beers. 

Both for him apparently. “Well, listen,” he starts out. Kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “I’m pretty wired after work, so if you need some company-”

“Six… hours… left.” Eddie musters out.

“Okay well, I doubt I’ll last that long. But I can give it a shot.”

Eddie smirks, raises both eyebrows. “There’s a dirty joke somewhere in there. Too tired to find it though.”

“Good to know the horny part of your mind is still awake.” Steve gives Eddie a small pat on the head. 

“Oh? That’s a good thing?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.” It’s too direct, Eddie hears it. And now it’s just Out There - his inability to flirt in a subtle way. And yeah, he could blame it on sleep deprivation, but he’s never been known for his mastery of ambiguity so…

The pause goes on long enough for the light to flicker again, the room growing darker with it. Steve takes a swig of his drink and smiles. “It’s good to know, Ed.”

The light flickers even darker.

Eddie is fully awake after that. Which could’ve been part of Steve’s plan - stimulate his brain with flirty comments and keep him up with those melty smiles. It’s no secret that Eddie turns into a hair-twirling loser around this guy. 

Even after living together for a year and seeing one another’s most disgusting habits, he still feels this way. Tight throat, stomach flips. Purely smitten in a way that would nauseate deadbeat poets.

In this moment, however, it’s a wonderful remedy to staying awake throughout the rest of the night. Much more effective than energy drinks and Tootsie Rolls.

Steve ends up on the floor, leaning against the edge of the couch. He sips another beer, recounting some bullshit that happened during his shift at the hotel. Eddie does his best impression of Listening to Steve’s stories, but the words are just buzzing around the glow of Steve’s hair and the shine on his lips. Nodding at seemingly appropriate times is all Eddie currently can offer.

“Sleeping with your eyes open, Munson?”

Eddie blinks hard. “Huh?”

“Creepy, but impressive.” Steve laughs, tapping his hand against Eddie’s leg. “You should add that to the Special Skills column on your resumé.”

“Bold of you to assume I have a resumé.”

They spend the next hour doing just that - adding useless skills to Eddie’s nonexistent resumé. It keeps them busy. Content. Steve smacks Eddie’s knee anytime he laughs, leaves his hand longer every time. Maybe that’s all in Eddie’s semi-dormant mind, especially since Steve shows casual affection to all of his friends. But the warmth of his palm is real enough to have Eddie fully committed to making Steve laugh as much as possible.

“What about… Expert Paper Clip Chain-Maker?” Steve suggests. 

Eddie stares at the chain in his hand, the one he was oblivious to creating. He whips it around like a lasso and then shrugs. “A bit wordy.”

“So you’re saying length matters?”

“Christ on toast, Harrington. You’re awfully quick to jump to that conclusion, aren’t you?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just starts laughing again. Eddie didn’t even need to tell a shitty joke this time. 

And when Steve’s hand hits his knee, sliding slightly up his thigh, Eddie laughs along with him. It’s the only way to cover up the heat rushing to his face.

Eddie enters the realm of delirium with three hours left in his challenge. He slumps onto the floor next to Steve, nudging his shoulder, staring into his sleep-heavy eyes. It’s four in the morning, inhibitions be damned.

“Do you think if you ever visit Europe, they’d call you Harring-metric-ton?” Eddie picks a piece of lint off Steve’s sleeve. Perfect excuse to reach out, move in closer.

Steve groans. “Yikes. But yes, that question keeps me up at night.”

“So that’s why you’re still awake. See, I knew it wasn’t because of my silly little concert tickets.” 

As soon as the words leave his lips, Eddie convinces himself that it’s the truth. Which is so dumb, so stupid. But this seed of insecurity keeps him going, fully projecting his assumptions onto Steve’s harmless comment. Somewhere deep down, buried underneath his exhaustion, Eddie knows it was a joke. But he can’t seem to shut up anymore.

“The riddle has been solved, folks! We finally know why Stevie here is still awake.” Eddie exclaims, flinging his arms out to the side. “Alert Scooby and the gang at once! Mystery Incorporated can finally pack up their magnifying glasses and pursue careers with better health insurance. Ones that covers vision costs this time. It’s what dear, ol' Velma deser-”

“Eddie.” Steve places a hand on Eddie’s arm, holding him still. Was he moving? Oh god, was he shaking? 

Fucking mortifying.

Steve’s thumb swipes across Eddie’s skin, tracing diagonal lines back and forth. “You’re rambling.”

“And you’re…” Eddie loses focus. He looks down at the hypnotic patterns that Steve is making. “There. Doing that.”

Steve stops briefly to flip Eddie’s hand over, starts tracing the lines in his palm instead. The pressure makes Eddie’s heart lurch up into his throat. He can feel it thumping in his neck, faster with every stroke of Steve’s fingers. All he wants to do is close his hand around them, keep Steve there for the rest of the night. Longer if he’d let him.

“I can stop if it’s weird.” Steve’s voice is so much quieter than it was earlier. 

Don’t stop. Eddie thinks. Can’t say it like that because gross. Humiliating and gross. “It’s not weird.”

Steve keeps his focus on the motion, Eddie does the same. They stay like this for a while, just watching. Intently staring over the invisible lines like pages in a novel. Eddie is pretty sure he’s breathing too loud, can hear it above the whistle in the air conditioner. Wonders if Steve can hear it too. 

Probably.

“That’s not why I’m staying awake.” Steve says, never breaking the pattern.

“No?”

“It’s who I’m staying awake for.”

Steve finally stops, right in the center of Eddie’s hand. The air in the room goes dense, weighted with acknowledgment. Something has changed and Eddie can feel it everywhere. 

He tilts forward, pulling his gaze away from his hand and up at Steve’s lips. If he weren’t stuck between half-awake and total-delirium, Eddie would just do it. Kiss Steve the way he’s always wanted to. Syrupy slow and deep. Savoring every second.

He could do it right now, right this second. But his focus starts drifting as he closes his eyes. “Did Chrissy tell you?” Eddie grumbles, almost unintelligible. 

“Tell me what?”

Eddie’s head falls, landing somewhere on Steve’s chest. He inhales the scent of laundry detergent (because Steve and Chrissy are the only avid laundry-doers in the apartment). It’s so soothing, drawing him further into a dreamlike place.

“Tell me what, Ed?”

“That I…” Eddie is nearly asleep before he can finish the thought. The confession:

‘That I’m crazy about you.’

Sunlight hits Eddie first, startles him so much that he jolts upward. Fully awake. It takes a few seconds of furiously rubbing his eyes before the dread kicks in. 

Morning.

It’s morning.

“Shit.”

Eddie fell asleep.

Steve fell asleep.

“Shitshitshit. So many shits!” He fumbles through the labyrinth of blankets and pillows around him, snatching his watch from the coffee table:

10:24 a.m.

“Goddamnit!”

Eddie sinks back down to the floor, clutching the phone that serves him no purpose anymore. All of those hours of waiting and calling for nothing. Even if general admission wasn’t already sold out, it’s not like Eddie could afford tickets on his own. He can barely keep up with his share of the rent. Chrissy had to cover for his grocery run last week and he still hasn’t paid her back.

It’s just so expected too - for him to fuck up like this. Always letting opportunities slip through the cracks, making careless mistakes. No one will be surprised that he failed at such a simple task like calling a fucking radio station.

Eddie sets the phone back on the table and cleans up the living room in a daze. Every now and then, he mutters under his breath about being a total moron. He stays relatively quiet for the most part though. No use in throwing a bitchfest while Steve is blissfully conked out three feet away.

Of course he looks good sleeping too, even in the midst of Eddie’s breakdown. Unfair.

Just before heading back to his room, Eddie hears that familiar door creak. Same one that always sets off Steve’s inner handyman tendencies. 

He looks back to see Chrissy padding towards him with a blanket wrapped around her. For someone who hasn’t had their mood-altering cup of coffee yet, she looks extremely pleased to see him. Maybe she knows about the fate of the concert tickets. Maybe this is an early-risers pity party.

Fucking yay.

“Chris, please don’t try to-”

His words are muffled by Chrissy throwing her arms (and blanket cape) around him. She’s so bouncy, the way she always gets with Robin whenever their favorite song comes on at the karaoke bar. He pats her on the back and clears his throat, still trying to piece together what this exchange could be about. However, Eddie is functioning on a few hours of sleep, so his cognitive skills are groggy at best.

She gives him one more squeeze and then looks up, positively gleaming. “I knew it! I knew it would finally happen!”

“That I’d screw up for the umpteenth time in my life? Gee thanks, Chris.” Eddie says.

“What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you and Steve!” She whisper-yells back.

Was she snooping on them last night? He wouldn’t put it past her, snoopiness is the foundation of their friendship. Well, whatever Chrissy thought she saw, she’s wrong. Sure, Steve and Eddie flirted, both letting some potentially mutual feelings slip out.

But it was all cut short by Eddie passing out mid-flirt. God knows how Steve took that reaction. Probably assumed Eddie was so bored that he would rather sleep than makeout with him. Or worse, that Eddie was pretending to sleep to let him down easy.

Christ, he doesn’t wanna think about that right now. Not while he’s still mourning the loss of his precious tickets.

“Hate to break it to you, honeyjam, but nothing happened.” Eddie shakes his head, gesturing to Steve who hasn’t budged from the recliner. “It’s just me over here and Steve over there. No conjunction connecting us together in that way.”

He can already tell Chrissy isn’t buying it. She’s getting that little forehead wrinkle right above her eyebrows, just like an angry cartoon character. Her best attempt at intimidation. “You didn’t see what I saw.” 

“Gay desperation?”

“No, you jackass. Come here!”

Chrissy yanks Eddie into his bedroom, demanding for him to lock the door. He listens, mainly because the intimidation is starting to work a little. They sit at the edge of the bed and she begins to explain everything she saw:

Steve constructing a wall of blankets and pillows around Eddie to ensure he slept comfortably. Steve waiting by the phone, tapping his foot in that insufferably cute way that Eddie loves so much. Steve scoring the tickets, celebrating quietly to himself.

“How long were you standing at the door, weirdo?” Eddie teases her to avoid the way his stomach is twisting around her words. 

Chrissy shushes him and squeals. “And he kissed your cheek!”

“Liar.”

“He did, I swear! He kissed you on the cheek or the chin or the nose. I don't know which one for sure because my view was obstructed by all of your hair.”

Eddie instinctively combs his fingers through a few strands, undoing the knotted pieces. Not all of them, but enough to keep his hands busy while he thinks through this. Processing. “And you’re sure it wasn’t a dream?”

“Positive.”

“What about a hallucination? Didn’t Byers make a batch of those infamous brownies again?”

Chrissy gives a deep sigh. “Whatever. You’re hopeless.” She shrugs the blanket back over her arms and heads toward the door. More than a fair assessment, Eddie can’t argue even if he wanted to (he always does). 

He stares at the line of posters along his wall, letting Chrissy’s words replay over and over. Imagining what it might have felt like. If Steve’s breath was warm or if his lips were soft. Eddie wonders how it looked to have Steve dipping down to his level. Staying so quiet, so careful not to disturb him. The visuals swarm his head until there’s nothing left but Steve. 

Him and Steve. Connecting them together in that way after all.

So, Eddie gets up and walks back into the living room. He takes in the view of Steve curled up in the recliner, mouth slightly parted open. Chest falling with every sniffle, not quite a snore.

There’s so many emotions while looking at him. Eddie can’t just pin one down to fully comprehend what's going on. All he can do is repeat the scene that’s occupying his mind, settling in his bones.

“Here,” he whispers, placing another blanket across Steve’s lap. It’s feathery gentle, more than he intends for it to be. So gentle that Steve doesn’t shift or stir. 

Eddie takes a deep breath and bends down, close enough to notice all the little details. The ones he’s been too sheepish to indulge in before last night. 

The tiny hairs on Steve’s forearm. The creases in his t-shirt. The bit of dried toothpaste on his chin. None of it should make his cheeks feel this flushed, but they do.

He lets the rush of bravery wash through him as he kisses Steve on the tip of his nose. Just the way Steve must’ve done to him. It’s swift, lighter than he means for it to be. Barely touching. But it’s enough to switch his heart rate up a few notches, pulsing jumping in his wrist.

Eddie steps away, waiting to see if Steve wakes up. Not entirely sure if he wants that or if he’d rather keep this memory to himself. 

“Thanks… by the way.” Eddie adds, brushing the tips of his fingers over Steve’s hand. Wishing he could trace the lines in his palm. Rewind back to last night and pause it there indefinitely. “I’ll tell you again when you’re up, but yeah.”

“Thank you, Steve Harrington.”

[imaginebeautifulworlds]

Loved By Seven | Chapter 5

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU, Mate!AU, romance, fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Human!Reader, Peacock!Seokjin, Serpent!Yoongi, Hawk!Hoseok, White Tiger!Namjoon, Merman!Jimin, Leopard!Taehyung, Wolf!Jungkook

Summary: Hiking was just an activity to get you out of the apartment, the last thing you imagined was ending in a whole different world by touching a jewel. That not being enough you end up meeting seven hybrids, and they all claim you shared the Connection with each of them making you their partner for life.

Notes: Hi! This is the first part of the 200 followers celebration, the fifth chapter of this story; the second part is a one shot from my masterlist, I already have one in mind that I hope you'll like it. If you have any idea for what I should do when we hit 300 followers you can leave an ask. Thank you so much for the love the seires has been receiving, I'll try to mantain the same rhythm for the updates. Likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated. English is not my first language so pardon me if anything is misspelled or grammatically incorrect. Also the main idea came from a webtoon but I can’t remember it’s name. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Support me?

With Taehyung at work and full from breakfast, you and Jiwoo explore the apartment and now you know it's way bigger than you imagine it; which makes you think that here getting a place to live is cheaper than in your world or Taehyung makes a lot of money What can be his job? I mean it definitely allows him to live quite well. You find out there are four rooms, the main one (the one you basically throw him out of), two guest rooms (with a bathroom each) and a huge library; aside from a big kitchen, the dining room, a grand living room and a laundry room. "Wow you're boyfriend lives quite good N/N" "He's not my boyfriend!" "Yet" Jiwoo chuckles at your bright face "But I do wonder what his job is" "Or the real state here is better than ours" Jiwoo adds.

Checking exploring the apartment on your list, you guys go back to the main room to take a shower "Hey Ji, can you help me unwrap this? So I can take a shower" "Sure" she sits down on the bed next to your ankle and starts taking off the bandage. With the bandage off, she goes to the drawer your clothes are in and takes the only stuff you have left "Well, we should use that washing machine we found otherwise we won't have anything to wear" Jiwoo says, taking out her clothes, and you nod at her words. Before going to get you, she puts your clothes on top of, what she thinks is, a shelf to organize your clothes to put them on after a shower or a bath Damn this is rich people type of stuff; and takes out a towel from a drawer in front of the sink.

"Let's go" Jiwoo exits the bathroom and helps you up, to hop to the bathroom; once inside you take oof your clothes, relive yourself on the toilet and enter the shower It would be nice to take a bath but I don't want to impose more than I already have. I'm sorry Taehyung I'm using your stuff again you think when you pick up a bottle of shampoo and start massaging your scalp, rinsing it out, you pick up a gel shower bottle and start spreading it on your body, but by doing that your thoughts go to the fact that you're in the same place where Taehyung's been naked just like you're now No no no no F/N don't think stuff like that, you're taking advantage of his kindness by thinking that you cover your red face with your face, and rinse all soap as fast as you can, with cold water.

With your feet really dry, to prevent more sprained ankles, you hop to where your clothes are and hop again towards the toilet to sit and dress yourself like you undressed the night before, sited. Already dressed, you hop to the sink and wash your face with Taehyung's face soap, rinse it and apply his moisturizer. You open the door and Jiwoo's waiting for you at the end of the bed to help you hop to the bed. She sit next to you to help you bandage your walk but you say with a smile "Jiwoo go wash yourself up, I got this" "Are you sure?" "Yeah, go" you point with your head towards the bathroom "Okay". By yourself, you apply the ointment and try to wrap up your ankle, it's not as good as how the doctor did but it's tight That's the important thing right? For the bandage to be tight no matter how it's wrapped up.

A few minutes later, Jiwoo's done with showering and asks, "Well, what we do now? There's nothing to eat, and there's nothing to do" "Well, we can't go out. We don't have keys, we don't know this city. As for food, we'll just have to wait until he comes back. He must have a TV somewhere, and we have to wash our clothes and the dishes from breakfast. " You two exit the room with your clothes on hand "Okay. I'll leave you at the laundry room and I'll go to wash the dishes" Jiwoo says "Deal" and you hop to the laundry room.

Jiwoo leaves you, and now you're in front of two very advanced machines Okay, I can do this, if I cracked the old washing machine at our place I can figure this ones out. You read what it says on the buttons, and look around in hopes to find a manual, which luckily you do Oh well, it's definitely easier than ours you also spot a laundry basket kinda full I should also wash his clothes, as a thank you for all the troubles you smile when picking out his clothes and putting them inside, by doing it you smell something delicious, curious by the source of the smell you bring a t-shirt to your nose it smells like white chocolate Maybe he ate something covered in white chocolate and the shirt got impregnated with the smell leaving it at that you finish with the clothes and start the machine, the cycle spends an hour washing the clothes.

Knowing it would be better to wait for Jiwoo you sit on the floor, trying not to put pressure on your ankle. After another 10 minutes Jiwoo makes an appearance "Ooohhh, you made it work" "Yeah, Taehyung left the manual handy and it was very easy, at least easier than the one at home" you chuckle "That darn thing" she grumbles "How about I leave you at the living room and when this is done I come and pass the clothes to the dryer" "I'm gonna take the offer for the lift but I want to finish the entire chore, otherwise I'll die from boredom" you pout at her "Okay" she chuckles.

Hopping to the living you still don't see anything to entertain yourselves with, not even a TV "Does he not have a TV here? Are there no TVs in this world?" Jiwoo asks scared "I don't think there aren't any TVs here I mean our worlds are pretty identical so maybe he doesn't have one because he doesn't like it" you conclude. Sitting on the couch looking at ceiling, an idea popped on your mind "Can you help me get to the library? Maybe I can find an interesting book there" "Okay, let's go", you support one of your arms around her shoulder and her towards said room.

Inside, you find a comfortable egg chair next to a large window with a beautiful city view and a big comfortable sofa which Jiwoo has already eyes on it. She plops down on the sofa "Don't you want a book?" you ask her "No, I think I'll just let dreamland call me" "Okay" you answer looking through the shelves Maybe we do have things in common, he has rows and rows of fantasy and sci-fi books you smile passing your fingers through the books' spines Apparently he also likes photography maybe it's a hobby of his you think when you see a few books on that subject.

With a book on hand, you sit on the egg chair and start reading. You're so engrossed in the story you almost didn't hear an alarm going off Wow the hour is already up you turn the chair to look at Jiwoo, but find her asleep so soundly she's snoring a little bit. Not wanting to wake her up you decide to hop by yourself to the laundry room. You support yourself with the hall walls, and hop by hop you get to your destination. Pulling out you girl's clothes and his clothes from the washing machine, without paying much attention at the white chocolate smell, you put them inside the dryer, you read the labels on it and a some information from the manual and turn it on Okay another two hours of waiting you think, leaving everything set you hop back to the library.

Inside the library, you see Jiwoo still sleeping and hop back to the comfy chair you were in. The book in your hands has you really engrossed This book is really good, I mean for obvious reasons I've never heard about the author nor the plot, but if this is a series and it's not finished and I leave miraculously back to my world I'll cry you almost hug the book from your thoughts. You keep on reading until that faint alarm is on again. Knowing is from the dryer you get up, hop to see Jiwoo This girl is sleeping way too much…or maybe she's faking it you touch her shoulder with tiny force but that only makes her turn around and wave her hand at you She's so cute you chuckle. Hopping to the library you see a watch on the wall Wow it's almost noon, I'm gonna feel hunger in any moment you pout but continue hoping to the laundry room.

You take out all the clothes and put them in a basket labeled "Clean" with coffee dots around the letters Cute you smile at the mental image of a Taehyung labeling baskets. With basket in hand, you decide it's way too far for you to hop to the library, besides your foot's been hurting a little bit from all the hopping around, so you settle for the living room. You sit on the biggest sofa, from the three available, and pull the table on the center towards you so you could have a place to elevate your foot, already settled you start folding the clothes and putting them in piles next to you on the sofa Ignore Taehyung's underwear, just ignore it, just like you've been ignoring the white chocolate smell all morning. Folding the last shirt you hear ruckus on the door and suddenly a Taehyung filled with bags comes into view once the door is open "I'm home".

"OMG Taehyung, let me help you" you try to rush, but accidentally you stand up with both feet and winced Well if it wasn't hurting before now it definitely is and quickly sit down again. Taehyung watching this closes the door as fast as he can, and runs to you leaving the bags in the sofa next to where you are, and one in particular he leaves it on top of the table "Beautiful you can't do that, you'll hurt your ankle more" he crouches next to you, only the point of his tail moving slowly "Did Jiwoo bandage you? Because it got loose" he looks up at you, with those big brown eyes of him leaving you breathless for a moment, and starts wrapping your foot  "Mmm, no, I did it myself…I swear it was tight but with all the hopping I guess it got loose" you say with red ears feeling a little embarrassed, about the bandage but also about your reaction at him. Then he notices the folded clothes next to you "Did you do the laundry?" "Yeah" you smile at him "Why didn't Jiwoo do it? You know you can't move much" your smile faded "Well, she did the dishes and she was gonna do the laundry but I told her not to because we couldn't find something to entertain ourselves with and I didn't want to feel useless " he finishes bandaging you, but you continue "So I washed the clothes while she washed the dishes and the hopped to the library, because we reckoned your apartment…it's really nice" he smiles at you at that, however you continue "And while the clothes were washing I picked one of your books and started reading, by the way I'm sorry that I've been using your stuff without asking for your permission like your shampoo, body wash, face soap, moisturizer, cooking utensils and now your books" you looked at your hands ashamed, Taehyung almost coos at this and brings his hand to your face, grabs softly your chin and lifts it up "But Beautiful…Well, first, I have a TV is right there" he points at a blank space "You just have to lift it up" you look at him confused, he chuckles "I'll show you later. Second, you're not useless you're hurt, once you're on top shape you can do anything you want" he gives you a boxy smile "And third, you can use anything you want, everything I have here is yours too" you light up like Christmas tree after he says that.

"Let's go eat now, I bet you're hungry" as soon as he says that your stomach rumbles and he laughs "I guess I'm getting to know you better, at least your eating habit" "Shut up" you mumble dreading the embarrassment you're feeling right now. He picks you up bridal style making yell a little bit "H-h-hey I can hop to the kitchen" "Nu-uh, while I'm here you won't be doing that" he sits you down in a stool and exits the kitchen. Now that he's not next to you, you feel how the white chocolate smell has increased since he got home Does it come from him? But I didn't smell this yesterday…ugh, I don't understand and even if I don't want to ask him because this makes me feel like a crazy person, he maybe knows what and why is happening.

He comes back with the bag he left at the table in the living room, and puts it on the island "Where's Jiwoo?" "She's sleeping in the library" "I'll bring her" he turns "Mmm…Taehyung?" "Yes Beautiful?" he faces you again "Can I take out what's inside the bag?" you look at him with bright hopeful eyes "Sure" he chuckles. You open the bag and take out three smaller bags, you open them and take out from each a plate with what looks like lasagna, tiny bags with bread and three bottles with what looks like the soda Taehyung gave you yesterday. You wait sited moving the leg, with the good foot, like a little kid; Taehyung watches this, walking towards you with Jiwoo beside him, and falls for you even more.

Inside the kitchen, Jiwoo sits next to you, rubbing her eyes, and Taehyung, with a pout, sits in front of you "This is one has meat, this one has chicken and this one has meat again but has extra cheese in it" he explains each plate "Can I have the cheesy one?" you ask excitedly "Sure" he takes off the wrap and passes it to you with a fork, he also opens the soda for you "Thank you" you give him a tiny smile, you've read enough romantic books to know these kind of gestures are when the person has a romantic interest in other "I'll take the one with chicken, Taehyung" Jiwoo says "Sure" he passes her the plate, the bottle and the fork. The both take off the wrap from the plate, and all three of you start eating "Wow, this lasagna is so good" you say "Yes, I'll even say it's better than yours" Jiwoo slightly punches you, joking with you "Do you know how to make lasagna Beautiful?" "Yes, sometimes" you smile at him "Then I can't to try it" he smiles at you. You're eating in silence when something pops in your mind "Taehyung, do you work nearby? I mean otherwise how can you be eating lunch with us" "I left early" he answers with mouth half full "Oh, are you sick?" you say worriedly "No? I feel fine" he answers with his head tilted to the side and animal ears standing up "Then if you're not sick how did you get permission?" Jiwoo adds "I just didn't want to be without for too long" he answers so truthfully, you can see it in his eyes, that you almost choke up with what was in your mouth "What is your job?" you finally ask, after drinking a sip of soda "I'm a model" you open your eyes as much as you can when the leopard reveals this "You're a m-mo-model?" you can't believe it, Jiwoo chuckles at this "I knew, someone as handsome as you can't have a desk job" "What kind of modeling you do?" you ask him softly "Mostly photography, sometimes runways" he answers like he's talking about the weather Well, he does it for a living so he must be comfortable talking about it "I had more shoots after the one in the morning but I told my manager to cancel the ones in the afternoon so I could be here with you" he answers before you can make the question "Are you famous? I mean you have a very nice apartment, not to mention big" Jiwoo asks "Maybe? I mean some people think I'm famous" he touches his neck in embarrassment.

You're in shock at what this man does for a living so you just keep eating the lasagna until there is nothing more to eat, not even the bread "Are you okay Beautiful? You stop talking" Taehyung asks, he's nervous because you haven't said anything since he said he's a model Does she not like it? Because I can quit and find another job more to her liking "Do you not like my job? Because I can quit and find something you like" he quickly voices his thoughts "What?!" you almost scream "You can't quit because of me…It's just that I know you're handsome" "You think I'm handsome" he smiles sheepishly, but you don't hear him because you continue your rant "Bu-but I never thought you would be a model and I'm just surprised that's all…Besides you said like we're destined or something and I'm definitely way too normal to be with someone like you" you close your mouth with your hand to stop you from saying anything else, surprised at what you just said "Are you accepting me?" he says with a big smile "I don't know" you answer truthfully "Ohh" he mumbles, a sad expression makes its way to his face, his animal ears also lose their perkiness But she said it, maybe she's just scared of accepting her feelings, I can wait for her. Jiwoo knows she has to intervene now "Uh, Taehyung, what are those bags outside?" "Let's go see what I brought you" he stands up and goes for you to lift you up "Don't say anything Beautiful, I'm not letting you hop" he says seeing how you're about to protest, so you just shut your open mouth.

He leaves you on the couch in the most possible delicate way, and sits down next to you. To leave the two love birds together, Jiwoo sits in the other couch. The first thing he takes out of one of the bags is two boxes "First, I bought the groceries so" he turns to Jiwoo "Jiwoo, can you help me accommodate them" "Sure" she answers "Now, this one is for you Beautiful" he gives you one of the boxes and you notice is a phone "and this one is for you Jiwoo" he gives her the other box "Taehyung, you shouldn't have" you gasp "Of course I had to, besides I wanted to" he smiles at you "Please open it" you do as he says, and gasp once again "It's pink, look Ji it's pink!" you show her "Mine is white" she now shows you her new phone "It already has the most important apps, and it also has my phone number" you notice he put himself in as "Tae " Cute, does he want me to call him like that? I'll have to ask Jiwoo what's his name in her phone…What if I'm imagining things and it's not something special. "I also bought you clothes, it's just a few we can go in a few days again when you're ankle is better" he looks at you, and you nod at him. "Thank you so much Taehyung, you didn't have to" you impulsively hug him, he's shocked but gets out of it fast to return the embrace Wow, hugging her like this I can smell the white chocolate even more he closes his eyes and inhales more, after a while you let each other go at the same time, and smile at each other for a few seconds He's so handsome She's so beautiful.

Jiwoo interrupts the moment to talk about something more serious than groceries, clothes o phones "Taehyung" he looks at her "he have to talk about something" he frowns but doesn't say anything "I think you've noticed how we know almost nothing about, hybrids or technology. It's not because he have amnesia or something like that" At first I did think that, but I guess it's something more he thinks "It's because we're not from this world" he open his eyes, absorbing the new information "But before we explain that to you, we would like to know about your world first and how hybrids came to be" you look at him nodding "Can you tell us, please?".

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[bravetimetravellingaussie]

Tomorrow

Poolverine oneshot

Summary: this is my idea of what happened right after Deadpool introduce Logan to Althea

Warnings: foul language, a lot of foul language, also it's got deadpool and wolverine in it, that's a warning in and of itself I think

"Now that you're acquainted with my mom, I meant mother, oh sorry, I dont know what's happening to my mouth muscles right now." Wade chuckled. "Anyways, now that you two have been acquainted, let me give you the grand tour, peanut."

"Make yourself at home, I'm going to take a nap," Althea said, not unkindly, before adding under her breath, "motherfucker's been back for less than five minutes and I already have a headache."

"I heard that!" Wade called after her cheerily, with a hint of middle fingers and a sprinkle of passive aggression.

Logan wondered whether Althea had developed a sixth sense to compensate her blindness when she returned the gesture right back at Wade before slamming the door behind her.

"I guess you won't be getting a tour of the master bedroom then." Wade turned to Logan. "It just so happens to be the only bedroom. I hope you're alright sleeping on the couch, peanut. I can show you how to unfold it so you have some more space." Wade looked Logan up and down. "I can borrow you some comfier clothes too, we can go shopping tomorrow for something that might fit you a bit better."

"I don't have any money on me, bub."

"I don't have much money either," Wade said with a grin. "Once you get settled I can try helping you find a job, if you like acquiring stuff the legal way, I could even put in a good word for you here or there, though that depends on whether you mind acquiring the money legally or not. Oh boy, I'm getting ahead of my self. You hungry, peanut?"

"I could eat a horse."

"Unfortunately, that is not on the menu, we do have an insane amount of instant noodles."

"Do you even know how to cook?"

"I'm not gonna dignify that with a response. I did manage to blow myself up once by leaving the gas on. Kitchen safety is no joke, kids!"

"Who the fuck are you talking to?"

"Nevermind that. Can you cook, peanut?"

"Of course I can cook."

"Damn, no need to get so high and mighty bout it. You know what I'm not even hungry anymore." Wade walked over to a closet and pulled out some items of clothing from the haphazard piles within. He walked back over to Logan and handed him sweats and a t-shirt. "I'll go get changed in the bathroom, you'll have to wait your turn, peanut."

Logan couldn't help but roll his eyes again before quickly changing out of his costume and into the sweats and t-shirt. The shirt was a bit tight and the sweats were too short, but he had to admit he hadn't felt so comfortable in a long time. He'd been in his costume for days now, and before that it was always jeans. It was a strange feeling, but a good one. The apartment felt a little warmer.

Wade walked out of the bathroom wearing pink pajama bottoms and a hoodie.

"Nice outfit, bub"

"Why thank you, peanut, I do try."

Logan couldn't resist the slight upward twitch in the corner of his mouth.

"Now the couch."

"Thanks." Logan lied down on the couch and sunk into it.

"You're one big boy, aren't ya?"

"You'd sink into this softass couch too if you had metal bones, so shut up asshole."

"Touché," Wade replied as he lowered himself down onto the floor.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Trying to go to sleep, but that's a bit hard to do with all your talking, peanut."

"Why don't you just sleep on the couch."

"Because you're sleeping on the couch?"

"Get over yourself, bub," Logan snorted. "This won't even be the closest we've been these past few days. I really don't care anymore."

"This feels like a trick." Wade narrowed his eyes at Logan but got up off the floor.

"I promise I won't stab you," Logan smirked before he turned to look at the ceiling and his expression turned serious again. "At least not on purpose. I should probably warn you. I have nightmares sometimes, and I get violent when I'm scared."

Wade sat down on the couch. He didn't say anything.

"You can have the couch, bub. I'm sinking into it like fucking quicksand anyways."

Wade lay down, on the couch. "Get over yourself, peanut. You couldn't hurt me if you tried."

Every adamantium infused bone in Logan's body screamed at him to run, to find the nearest bar and never look back, to find a place where no one would get close to him again. But he held onto that. No normal threat could kill the man on the couch next to him. Even he couldn't kill Wade. They even survived the time ripper, and if that had proved anything, it was that they were stronger together. Logan held onto these solid truths. He held onto them like a man clinging to the edge of a cliff. He'd have to start making his way up eventually, but for now he just focused on not falling. There was going to be a tomorrow. And he would make his way up that cliff at his own pace. An inch at a time, if that's what it was going take, but he'd get there eventually.

There was always tomorrow.

[terresdebrumestories]

This idea ambushed me in the shower and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it, so there you have it. This is the result of an hour of frantic typing on my phone and shall be cleaned up before I cross post it to AO3.

"I wanna come out," Jamie says, and Roy freezes in place so fast Phoebe bumps into his back and swears under her breath.

Roy doesn't even pretend to try and tease her for it, too stunned for words.

"If we win tonight," Jamie adds on the other end of the line, "I wanna come out."

"Are you sure?" Roy manages at last, and it comes out so raw Ruth does a double take in the kitchen, raising her eyebrows in question.

Roy, gripping his phone like he'll die if he lets go, shakes his head and turns away, making his way to the corridor on shaky legs. From very far away, he thinks he hears Phoebe ask if he's alright, but Roy pushes her out of his mind as soon as Jamie says:

"I'm sure."

"Jamie," Roy hisses, "it could end your career."

"So what?" Jamie says, and Roy almost ask who the fuck is possessing his partner.

"Jamie."

"Roy. I'm thirty-four. I've won the Premier League, the Europe League and the fucking World Cup. I'm in the fucking Olympics. Once I've won that, who the fuck cares if I get a goodbye tour?"

"You do," Roy says. Then Jamie grunts and Roy adds: "I'm with you. You know I am, always." Jamie hums, but it sounds like he's relenting, not skeptical, so Roy makes himself continue despite the risk of Ruth or Phoebe overhearing: "I just don't—I don't want you to regret it."

To regret me, Roy is surprised to mean. After all, they've been together for almost ten years now. Any coming out Jamie makes is likely to result in their relationship becoming public, and Roy...Roy has apparently not quite managed to get over their age difference as thoroughly as he thought he had.

"I won't," Jamie promises, the sound of his voice suddenly echoing, like he just stepped in a bathroom. "I really won't. Just 'cause I'm buzzin' doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing."

Roy can't help worrying anyway, but he still makes himself breathe in, and then out, and then say:

"Okay. Then I think you should do it."

"Oh, I was gonna," Jamie says, playful, and Roy smiles at his sister's bathroom door like an idiot. "But also. Em. I don't—if I'm gonna come out publicly, I don't wanna have to like. Pretend like I'm single or whatever. Or like. If I do get my fucking retirement tour and we meet in a game or whatever, I don't wanna have to pretend like I'm not dead gone on you, you know?"

Roy's heart expands in his chest, like it's trying to make a run for it through his ribs or something, and he knows he's full-on grinning at the bathroom door when he says:

"Me either. Please feel free to mention me by name."

"Grand," Jamie says over the sound of a shower turning on. "Great. Well. I gotta go soon but uh. Wish me luck?"

"Good luck," Roy obliges. And then, because he's had nearly ten years of practice to make this bit easy, he adds: "I love you."

"Love you too."

*

"What a game," Arlo White shouts on TV a few hours later, while Ruth and Phoebe do a victory dance around the couch, where Sam and Keeley are singing Jamie's stupid fucking chant along with the crowds in the stadium.

"What a game! What a play! What a goal! And what an ovation for Jamie Tartt, indubitably the man of the match!"

"I agree," Chris Powell adds, sounding almost excited for once, "I'd even say: what a career! Jamie Tartt won it all! Honestly Arlo, I wouldn't be surprised if he decided to retire soon, I mean at this point what else does he need?"

"Oh shut the fuck up," Roy yells at the TV, earning himself a playful shove from Phoebe and a prod in the ribs from Keeley. "Stupid fucking pundits," he mutters into his champagne.

"That would be so much more convincing if you weren't pink with pride, babe," Keeley teases, and Roy grunts without heat.

The truth is, now that White and Powell have announced a transition on the ground and the camera switched to Barbara Carnahan on the side of the pitch, Roy feels himself tense with anticipation. Everyone here knows about him and Jamie, of course, but they don't know what he's planning to do. That leaves Roy alone to deal with the nerves of Jamie's impending announcement, and holy fucking shit, they're a lot.

"First of all," Carnahan says when she catches Jamie and gets him to stand in front of her camera, "I want to congratulate you on an absolutely marvelous game!"

Roy watches Jamie's tongue dart out in celebration, like he's a goddamned emoji or something, and finds himself gripping Keeley's hand out of sheer need to share the moment with someone.

"Thanks," Jamie says, sobering up a little bit, "We did really good, yeah!"

"Oh, definitely! How does it feel? Did you expect this when you woke up this morning?"

"Well, you know," Jamie says, running a hand through his hair, "nothing's ever certain, but I knew our chances were good, yeah, so I was like. Fairly optimistic about it."

"And you were right!" Carnahan agrees with a little bounce. "I'll admit I was nervous when the first half ended at one-one, but that goal in injury time was magnificent!"

"Yeah, Satō gave me a great assist there, that kid's gonna get far," Jamie says, wiping at his brow.

To Roy's left, Sam coos a little, happy to see one of his Marseille teammates get some recognition. He hasn't looked that cheerful since he busted his knee right before the Olympics started and he knew he had to sit the competition out.

"What was going on in your head at that moment?" Carnahan asks Jamie. "As the whistle blew and you realized you'd won, where did you mind go? Is there anyone you thought of in particular?"

"Well there's me mum, of course," Jamie says. "She's in the stands, and I'm really glad she could be here for this. And then there's my partner."

Around Roy, the living room falls into the most intense silence he's ever heards, even as Jamie adds:

"Actually, is it okay if I talk to him for a sec?"

"Him?" Carnahan asks, at the same time as Keeley and Phoebe shriek:

"WHAT?"

"Yeah, him," Jamie says, prompting Sam to shout and grab Roy's left shoulder. "Can I talk to him?"

And this. This wasn't the script, right? Roy thought—usually—this isn't. No. No!

...no?

"Oh my god, uncle Roy!" Phoebe is saying, gripping Roy's right shoulder, "Oh my god!"

"Yes, sure," Barbara Carnahan says with the dazed look of a reporter who's just been hit with the exclusive of the decade, "go ahead."

Jamie grins, and thanks her, and then he takes a deep breath—Roys mirrors him, can't help it, feels like he's about to explode, or melt, or both—

"Roy," Jamie says on the screen, eyes turned straight at the camera so it looks like he's actually watching Roy in 16:9 format, "it's hard to remember what it was like to hate you enough to nearly fight you right on the pitch."

Someone says a very strangled 'what the fuck' and it takes Roy a second to realize it's Keeley, but also the reporter on the telly.

"Turns out you're actually one of the best men I've ever fucking met—" ('Oh my god!' Says Keeley, slapping Roy's arm.) "You support me and challenge me all the fucking time, you're funny, and the grumpiest arse in the morning." ('OH MY GOD!' shouts Phoebe from behind Roy.) "I've spent nine years of my life loving you to your face, and you've taken it like a champ so far...so what do you say we make it official and tie the knot?"

"OH MY GOD!" Screams the living room, pushing and pulling and slapping at Roy.

He can barely breathe, feels himself grow twice, thrice, ten times bigger than he normally is, floating like a bubble of champagne as Phoebe nearly breaks his nose trying to shove his phone against his ear—"YOU HAVE TO FUCKING CALL HIM, UNCLE ROY!"

And then there's a dial tone, and some spluttering on tv, and more shouting, and a phone comes into view, lands against Jamie's ear, and then—

"You motherfucker!" Roy yells into the phone, and Jamie-on-the-screen blinks and grins, and Jamie-on-the-phone gives this little hitch of breath he does when he thinks 'I love you', and Roy is saying: "You absolute wanker! No fucking warning—"

And Jamie-on-the-screen scrunches his nose and grins harder, and Roy's heart goes into fucking overdrive, his pulse loud in his ears and in his palms, and Jamie-on-the-phone asks:

"So like, that's a yes, right?"

"Yes! Of course it's a yes you gigantic prick!" Roy yells, and Jamie-on-the-screen fist pumps while Roy's world turns into one giant shriek of joy, and then there's champagne popping, and four different footballers bursting on the screen to hug and jump up and down and shout so loud Roy hears them even when Jamie has to take the phone away from his ear.

"Oh my god!" Keeley shouts, muffled, into Roy's neck when he hangs up, knowing full well there's no way Jamie's getting back to his phone until much later tonight. "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!"

"Did you really not know?" Phoebe asks, shouting into his other ear.

"I knew he wanted to come out and go public about us," Roy says, falling back from the adrenaline-induced shouting to the best sort of daze. "I didn't know he was going to propose!"

And Roy sounds grumpy about it, he knows he does—will probably get shit from Jamie about it as soon as his fucking plane lands, really! And his sister, his niece, his friends are being way too loud about it, and now his phone's buzzing and will probably keep buzzing for the next four or five hours, and Roy sounds grumpy but he does not mean it for a fucking second.

[colorsunimaginable]

the spare // chapter sixty-seven // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary: 

While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 8k warnings for this chapter: drinking, a wee bit of p in v

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

my lovely beta reader 💕 banner credit @cafekitsune

Chapter Sixty-Seven:

It’s the day after Christmas and I spend it overthinking, worried about this ‘gathering’ at Cliveden. To distract myself, I fiddle around with the new camera Thomus bought me. 

And I might have taken a few… dozen pictures of him. 

Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but regardless I now have images of him sitting at the kitchen table with a book, typing away at his desk on the typewriter, and even one I convinced him to take with me in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. 

“I think I’m… nervous,” I say as we’re getting ready to leave.

Thomus finishes adjusting the collar of his cloak around the collar of his sweater and gives me a curious look. “You likely have more in common with them than I do.”

I shift on my feet, clutching the Tupperware full of cookies tighter. “I highly doubt that. Ever since you told me about this party, all I can think about is the time you spanked me in front of them.” A satisfied smile spreads across his face as he chuckles and pulls a forest green knit scarf from beneath his cloak. “Are we all just supposed to pretend like that never happened?” He steps closer and loops the scarf around my neck, eyes focused on the task. “Are you even listening?”

“Of course.” His eyes snap up to mine as he flips one end of the scarf over my shoulder and the other down my front. “You have nothing to worry about.”

I release a strained groan and fidget with my Ilvermorny Christmas sweater, pulling the hem further down around my hips. “Let’s just go.”

We Apparate straight there and I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea what to expect. The few parties Jacob Astor has hosted that I’ve witnessed have varied wildly. From a super serious Death Eater meeting about human trafficking to dancing with Thomus while high on a lust potion - you never really know. Not to mention, the usual crowd has been an unfortunate audience to my most embarrassing moments in the last six months. 

I shudder out of my thoughts while we trek to the large hosting room. The smell hits me first, cinnamon and oranges, and then I register the song playing gently from the corner of the room, Bing Crosby’s White Christmas . An Elf snaps away our outerwear as we approach the open doors.

The room is absolutely decked out . Floating candles light the room, hovering just under the high ceiling. Fake snow drifts down from a dim grey sky, fresh holly on every sconce. In the center of the room against the windows is a massive tree, covered in tinsel and twinkling lights. The grand fireplace is crackling with a delicious smelling fire. We walk closer to the tree, where people are gathered around on couches and chairs, and I can make out what lights the top of the tree... A bright, glowing Deathly Hallows mark. 

Well, that’s fucking weird.

I don’t have time to think on it further before Jacob Astor is standing before us. He looks as dashing as ever and not so surprised that I’m not currently blind. He smiles at both Thomus and me, and I wish I could tell if he’s being sincere.

“Glad you guys could make it,” Jake says cheerfully as he shakes Thomus’ hand, but he’s looking at me. 

Thomus smiles in return, looking more relaxed than he usually does when we’re out. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

As they exchange a few more pleasantries, my eyes wander beyond Jake, trying to see if there’s any familiar faces. I clock Kyle sitting near Will when Jake says something that recaptures my attention. “I see you had your very own Christmas miracle.” 

Thomus’ arm slides around my waist. “Yes, I had some very good luck.”

I don’t miss the double meaning to his words. I wanna remark about how his good luck was really my hard work, but I bite my tongue and force a shy smile as Jake turns to shake my hand as well.

Jake gestures to a food and drinks table set up along a wall. “Help yourselves. I think Will’s trying to start up some drinking games here in a minute.”

I start walking toward the table before Thomus, mostly because I’m eager to exchange this box of cookies for something with alcohol in it. Towards the desert section, I glance back over my shoulder to make sure no one but Thomus is watching me slide trays aside, making enough room for my offering. 

Finally with free hands, I scooch next to Thomus standing by the drinks. 

“Can I pour you anything?” he asks me. 

My eyes scan the bottles, then point to the one I want. “Yeah, can I get orange juice with Malibu?”

He reaches for the white bottle I pointed to and pours a double into the iced glass he’s holding. “Coconut rum?” he questions as he’s reaching for the pitcher of orange liquid. 

“It’s my go-to,” I say as I grab a coffee straw, taking the glass and stirring it once it’s full. I take a sip and it’s just right. He’s busy pouring his own glass of whiskey, but I offer him the straw anyway. “Wanna try?”

I briefly pull his eyes away from pouring as he leans down to wrap his lips around the straw. There’s just something about seeing his jaw flex like that that has me pinching myself. 

“Well, it’s certainly a combination of flavors,” he says after swallowing. 

I snort and forget what I’m about to say when I feel an arm brush my other shoulder. When I see who it is, I relax. “Oh, hi.”

Will’s eyes immediately find the box that doesn’t match the rest of the dishes and nabs one of the bright red cookies. “Oh, hi,” he teases after he takes a bite. His face is sans beard and rocking a stache now. “You guys ready to get trashed?”

“What’re we playing?” I ask, taking a few big pulls of my drink.

“Anything,” Will answers immediately. He pulls out his wand and summons a tray pre-loaded with tiny cauldrons just big enough for shots. A bottle of firewhiskey floats from the collection before us and starts filling the cauldrons. “Got nothin’ but a good time on the agenda.”

“Can we play Thunderstruck?” I ask. 

Will beams. “Fuck yeah we can play Thunderstruck.”

As Thomus and I follow Will back to where everyone else is gathered, Thomus leans in. “Should I know what that is?”

I can’t help but smile. “Oh, you’ll find out.”

There’s an empty loveseat Thomus pulls me onto. He tucks his arm around my waist again as he settles back, practically tucking me into his side. 

As Will passes out the shot cauldrons, I can finally sneak a peek at who’s actually here. Kyle and Will - and obviously Jake. That Roosevelt guy is here, too, but I forget his first name. There’s a pretty blond woman talking to Jake that I don’t recognize and… oh, that’s it. Small group, I see. Which I will admit I’m glad for. 

I take the first shot that Will offers me and I down it immediately before putting it back and grabbing another one. I haven’t really eaten much today, so the alcohol hits my stomach like a warm blast.

“Alright, I wanna make a toast,” Jake announces, standing with his shot held out towards the blond next to him. “Firstly, to my sister, Diana, for the last minute decorating.”

“Well, you obviously weren’t going to do it,” Diana says with a laugh. 

“Exactly,” he says. “And then to all of you - for making this past year as successful as it has been.”

For one blissful moment I had allowed myself to forget why I was here, why they’ve had such a successful year. It takes .2 seconds for the anxious pit in my chest to grow twice its size. I’m the first one to finish my shot and then sip heavily on my cocktail to wash the taste down.

“Alright, the first game we’re playing is Thunderstruck, so everyone top off their drinks,” Will says, heading over to where the Christmas music’s playing from. 

Since mine is already more than halfway gone, I shoot to my feet to fill it back up. I’m not the first one to the drinks table because Kyle is there ladeling in some kind of fizzing purple punch. 

“Want one?” Kyle asks as I glance over my shoulder at Thomus, who briefly looked at me before turning to greet Diana.

“Yes, please,” I reply. “Two actually.”

“This your doing or his?” he asks, his voice low. By this he doesn’t even have to clarify - I just know.

I look up at him and shrug with one shoulder. “Mine.”

“Hmph,” he grunts unhappily. He finishes filling the first glass and then starts the second.

“What, don’t believe me?” I ask, taking a sip of the punch. Elderberry and something that tastes like Aloe juice. 

“I believe you,” he says quickly. “Now it’s just my turn to hold up my end of the bargain.”

I sigh heavily. “You haven’t figured out how to get me away from Thomus yet, have you?”

“Well, I have a few ideas, but I don’t think you’re going to like them.”

“Such as?”

Before he can answer, we get called back to the group to start the song. I’m supposed to hide the fact that I have my magic, so with both hands I carefully cradle my half drink plus the two new ones back to the loveseat. Thomus is still chatting with Diana, a conversation I’ve completely tuned out, so I just slide our drinks onto the coffee table in front of us. 

“Melisa, can you explain the rules?” Will asks. 

I’m a bit taken aback by the use of my whole first name - especially being pronounced correctly - instead of my last. Everyone’s eyes are on me now, so I take a deep breath before spilling the details. “Okay so, we go in a circle and every time the song says ‘thunder’, one person drinks until they say ‘thunder’ again, and then the next person starts and so on and so forth, does that make sense?”

“I’ll start!” Will says before pressing play and jogging over. He comes to sit on the armrest of our loveseat.

The first few thunders come in quick succession, so once Will goes, I go, and then Thomus. The thunders go around the circle a few times before the first long stretch lands on Thomus, who has to finish his whiskey, and with some encouragement, grabs the punch I push towards him. With the circle being small, by the time the song’s over, everyone has finished their drinks.

“Now that we’ve all settled in,” Will jokes, “the next game we’re playing is called Captain.” He sets the music back to Christmas music and turns the volume down to a background level. “Usually, it’s played with a pirate's hat or a sailors hat, but since it’s Christmas - “ he waves his wand and a Santa hat appears on Diana’s head, much to her delight “ - this is what we’ve got. Does everyone know how to play?”

I shake my head, noticing the alcohol has started to loosen my limbs. I’d finished my cocktail during the game and have started on the punch - which I swear keeps refilling itself.

Diana rubs her hands together conspiratorially and leans forward over Thomus to explain. “Whoever has the hat gets to pick someone to do a dare. If they do the dare, then we all take a shot and they get the hat, but if they don’t then they’re out of the game. Last person in the game wins.”

I smile at her. “Please don’t pick me first.”

She laughs. “Don’t worry, I got my eyes on someone else.” She jerks her chin towards Jake, who immediately dons this ‘oh shit’ face. She leans back, crossing her arms with a shit eating grin.

“Why’s it called Captain?” I ask. “Just because of the hat?”

“Whenever someone gets the hat, we’re supposed to say ‘Aye, Aye Captain’,” Thomus explains for me, his face leaning in close. 

I immediately giggle. “Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?”

He runs his hand down my thigh and tilts his head in confusion. “What?”

I shift in my seat, getting closer to him so our thighs touch. “Nevermind.”

“Aye, aye Captain!” Roosevelt and Will shout. 

Diana taps her chin like she’s still considering. “Hmm, dear brother, what shall I make you do?” Then she grins. “I dare you to take your socks off with your teeth and wear them tucked into your collar for the rest of the game.”

My head quickly swivels to where Jake is sitting to get his reaction and he does not disappoint. His face scrunches up in disgust as he slouches in his seat, already toeing off his nice shoes. 

“Hopefully those aren’t the ones you were wearing yesterday,” Will laughs. “Or are they?”

“Shut your trap, Hoffman,” Jake grumbles. 

We all wait with baited breath as he grabs his calf to pull his foot closer to his face. He quickly traps the sock between his bared teeth and pulls. It slips off and he does the same to the other one before tucking them both into his collar. 

He grins triumphantly and quickly summons house slippers for his bare feet. “Ha!” he says. “Drink up, assholes.”

We all take our drinks as the Santa hat gets transferred to Jake. 

“Aye, Aye Captain!” we all shout. 

His eyes jump from person to person, and he’s quick to settle on Kyle, who clearly isn’t paying attention. 

Kyle’s sole focus is on Thomus, blatantly staring at him with something akin to determination and consideration. 

The look quickly disperses as my stare gives Jake’s intention away and Kyle’s expression neutralizes. 

“Kyle,” Jake says. “I dare you to serenade the person to your right.”

Kyle sighs dramatically, rubbing his hand down his face. “I’m not nearly drunk enough for this.”

Nevertheless, he swiftly gets down on his knees in front of Diana, a hand clutched over his heart. As he’s clearly about to break out in song, I briefly wonder if he’ll have a decent singing voice, and I find out soon enough as he belts out the easily recognizable first notes to All I Want for Christmas is You . His voice is off-pitch and scratchy, and I genuinely can’t tell if he’s being bad on purpose or not. Everyone starts laughing and I can’t help but join in. 

When he gets to the end of the first verse, he takes Diana’s hand and gives the back of it an exaggerated kiss. We give him a round of applause as he takes his seat. Jake gives Kyle the hat while we take our drink for the round.

It doesn’t surprise me that Kyle chooses Thomus, I only worry what he’ll make him do. He’s looking around, trying to come up with an idea until his eyes land on Thomus’ drink in his hand. 

“Malfoy, I triple doxy dare you to… finish yours and Alder’s drinks in one go.”

Thomus scoffs. “And here I thought you were going to pick something difficult.” He quickly finishes the rest of his punch in a few gulps before trading glasses with me. “Tada,” he proudly announces after easily downing the rest of mine, then he stands holding our four empty glasses by the rim in one hand. “Drink up.”

As Thomus goes across the room to refill our punch, Kyle leans forward, staring at me intently. 

“We need to get him drunk,” he hisses low. 

I blink at him in surprise, then jump my gaze first to Thomus’ back and then to the rest of the group. No one seems as surprised as I am. Even Roosevelt, who I overheard someone refer to him as Eric, doesn’t bat an eye. Is everyone in on this plot?

“That’s your plan?” Will asks incredulously.

“It’s the start of one,” Kyle answers. “Get him so drunk he passes out and she can just… leave.”

“Just leave ?” I ask. I look to the windows, searching for that shimmer from the magical barrier from before. “What about -”

“The tattoo doesn’t work here,” Jake quickly adds. “And there aren't any additional wards to trap you here.”

Everyone is looking at me, waiting for my response. My heart has leapt to my throat to block any logistical questions I have before Thomus swoops back into his seat.

“What’s that look for?” Thomus asks me. I quickly snatch the glass he hands me to swallow my thrumming heart back into my chest. 

Diana jumps in for my rescue. “I was just telling her about my ex.”

“Oh Merlin,” Thomus groans, slumping back against the loveseat. “It’s not a story about me, is it?”

What? Jesus fuck, these people keep smacking bludgers at me one after another. 

I try not to react outwardly to the news that Diana and Thomus used to date, even if this news is just as jarring as the imminent plan for my escape from him. I focus on her, really taking in what she looks like. Extremely tall and willowy with big round hazel eyes and a cupid’s bow mouth. Jealousy flares up inside because I can’t help but compare us. Her thighs combined are the size of just one of mine. 

She flips her long dirty blond hair over her shoulder and crosses her legs, perching an elbow on the armrest of her chair. “No, but I ought to, shouldn’t I?”

“Definitely not,” Thomus says, quickly sitting forward with a hand outstretched towards Kyle. “Pass me the hat.” He settles the white faux fur rim of the Santa hat over his dark curls. 

“Aye aye, Captain!” they all shout. I’m too anxious and fixate my eyes on my drink, still fizzing on the coffee table in front of me. My mind is racing with all that could potentially happen. Where would I go? How long could I hide? Could I be summoned back because of the tattoo? If the idea is to get me close to Voldemort, wouldn’t fleeing just put a target on my back? I wonder if I’d be able to get a message to Hermione about -

Thomus’ hand brushes down my arm. “Melisa?”

My eyes snap to his, focused on me, and I swallow around nothing. “Yeah? Sorry.”

He gives me a sly smile. “It’s your turn.”

“Alright,” I sigh, making a face. “Lay it on me.”

He takes a deep breath and I expect it to be something genuinely challenging, but in all honesty it’s a bit underwhelming. “I dare you to sing the alphabet… backwards.”

I snort. “Jokes on you because I was taught that in the second grade.” 

“Oh, I’m sure,” he grins. “Let’s hear it, then.”

Looking at him, I feel less nervous about making a fool of myself in front of everyone else. So I start to sing, keeping my eyes on him or on his person, because after a few moments the prolonged eye contact makes my face heat. 

Even after I’m finished with the letters, I keep going with the end of the song. “ Now we know our ZYXs’, next time we will go to Texas. ”

Will laughs. “Why the fuck are we going to Texas?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Ask Mr. Morley.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

“My elementary school music teacher,” I reply smoothly. “Now drink the fuck up.”

Jake is the first to finish his drink, so he stands to get a refill. “We should play something else. All our dares suck, no ones gotten out yet.”

“I’ve got a good one,” I say quickly. I’d taken a drink, too, because why not? Who wants to make hard decisions sober?

I pluck the Santa hat off Thomus’ head and slip it over mine. “You ready, Will?”

Will squares his shoulders, facing me dead on, expression serious. “Born ready.”

“I dare you to recite a poem - any poem, but you -” I start to blow a raspberry with my tongue in between every word “- have to talk like this.”

Will snickers. “You got that from Spongebob.”

“So what if I did? You still gotta do it,” I smile. “And I don’t think I heard my ‘aye aye, Captain’.”

Jake and Kyle are the only ones who don’t say it. Kyle is lost in his thoughts if his dead eye stare at his drink is evidence enough, and Jake is too far away at the food and drinks table to care.

It’s hard to keep the grin off my face as Will complies with my dare. “ Mosquito lands on my cheek. I try to slap her, but I just slap me. ” He finishes by standing with a bow. 

“That’s it?” Diana protests. “It was so short.”

“It’s a haiku,” Thomus explains. “A type of Japanese poem.”

“Oh, yeah that’s right,” she says. “Do you still work for the Daily Prophet? Or has that taken a backseat for… other things?” 

“A bit of both, really,” he sighs. “The Dark Lord hasn’t required much of me lately, so I’ve been helping Barnabas Cuffe with editing. In addition to helping my sister-in-law with the New Year’s Eve Gala she’s hosting.”

“Speaking of,” Jake says, rejoining the group, “why weren’t we invited?” It’s obvious he’s not really offended, just genuinely curious. 

Thomus sighs and speaks with a hint of resentment. “Only the Sacred Twenty-Eight and whoever’s crawled up through the Dark Lord’s ranks, I’m afraid. Not even the Lots are allowed to be present.”

“Well, if you’re free, Melisa,” Diana says, speaking to me. “You’re welcome to come to a New Years Eve party here. It would just be us and a few of my girlfriends from Oxford.”

I’m genuinely shocked and flattered that this goddess is inviting me to a party, but I know that this has to be a backup plan for escape if tonight doesn’t go as Kyle wants it. I don’t even get a chance to respond because Thomus puts a possessive hand on my leg, wedging his long fingers into the tight space between my thighs. 

“Unfortunately, that’s not possible,” Thomus says, speaking for me with a tone of finality, and doesn’t even bother to explain why.

She peers at us curiously for a moment before realization dawns. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot.”

The tray with all our mini shot cauldrons fill back up as Thomus just gives a silent nod of acknowledgement. 

We play another couple rounds of Captain before all the drinks finally start to do their job and loosen everyone up. I know I’m starting to feel it, especially when I stand to go find a bathroom. 

Thomus insists on accompanying me, especially when I steer towards the bathroom down by the kitchens. He takes me back out to the lobby, showing me where the bathrooms are there. Secretly, I’m glad, because I don’t think I’d be able to make it up and down all those stairs without tripping at least once. I don’t think Thomus would either, based on how many times he bumps into me. 

He even follows me into the women’s bathroom, insisting that it doesn’t matter since we’re the only ones in there. 

“I didn’t realize how clingy you were,” I tease, saddling my way into one of the stalls to do my business.

He slides into the one next to me. “Oh, poppycock. I’m just being a gentleman and making sure you don’t fall in.”

My laugh is sharp and loud in the echoey bathroom. “That actually happened to me when I was in preschool. The seat wasn’t down so my butt got all wet and I just sat there waiting to be rescued by a teacher.”

I hear his warm chuckle. “How old were you?”

“Four,” I say as I finish and leave the stall to wash my hands. He joins me a moment later, still chuckling to himself. “What?”

He shakes his head absently. “Nothing, you’re just… adorable.”

I snort as I reach for a paper towel. “Right.”

He dries his hands too and quickly reaches for me as I try to pass him to the door. He leans back against the counter, a hand on my hip and one on my cheek, pulling me towards him. I don’t resist and lean into him, our lips quickly meeting. My arms snake around his waist, wanting a hug at the same time, because it strikes me that if I leave tonight… this could be it. 

I still have a million doubts and questions that need answered, but right now… right now he wants me and I need to bask in it for as long as I can, while I still have the chance.

I deepen the kiss and I boldly slip one of my hands to the front of his jeans. He’s already semi-hard, but at my touch, he groans and bites my lip. 

“You want to do this here?” he asks, his voice husky.

I nod, my other hand coming around to undo his pants and slip my hand inside. “I want you so bad.”

He drags kisses along my jaw and down my neck. “It’ll have to be quick.”

“And hard,” I breathe, practically panting with want already.

Determination in his movements now, he flips us around until my fupa is pressed against the sink counter and he’s grinding against my ass. He moves my hair away from my neck, sensually kissing the soft spot below my ear. Over my sweater his hands slowly grope down from my chest, then my stomach and the fleshy “handles”, as he’s called them before, where my fupa meets my hips. 

I push my ass back against him. “I thought you said we had to be quick.”

He bites my neck, wringing a moan from me. “Patience,” he warns. 

One hand lets go of my handle and slips underneath to firmly cup the junction between my legs. I sigh heavily and whine, rocking my hips, increasing the pressure on my clit. 

“Fuck,” he groans out. Finally he hooks his fingers into my waistband and yanks my pants and undies down to my knees. I push my ass out towards him when he takes a step back to pull his cock out. He moans when his tip pushes through my lips, feeling how wet I am. Then he doesn’t waste a second longer and slides home. 

I cry out, biting my lip in an attempt to keep it muffled. I plant my hands on the smooth cold counter and immediately start rocking back and forth, desperately impatient. With a hand on the center of my back, he pushes me forward while snapping his hips to my ass, seamlessly sliding into the pace I’d set. Quick staccato slapping echoes around the room as he thrusts hard and deep. My eyes roll back into my head, hardly aware of the noises I’m making because I’m too busy losing my mind to the pleasure.

He slows all too soon, pulling me back up to attach his mouth to my neck again. My back bends to accommodate him, and while still keeping him buried to the hilt, my chest juts out. He takes advantage of the position and pushes my sweater up until his fingers find the band of my bra and he pushes that up too. My heavy breasts fall into his hands and he groans, pinching my nipples, and fucking into me with slow, but hard thrusts. 

My eyes flutter open briefly, a sudden urge to see. He’s fucked me in front of a mirror before, but he hasn’t done it since I’ve gotten my sight back. Admittedly, I have a bit of an out of body experience, looking at what’s happening instead of feeling it. I hate what I look like, of course. Sometimes in my head I look different than I really do and seeing myself in the mirror can be pretty jarring. 

But then I look at Thomus’ face. He’s so… wrapped up in me, hands full, mind clearly numb with ecstasy. 

I close my eyes again, grimacing, swallowing down the sudden onslaught of longing and loss. It’s probably all the alcohol, but tears fill my vision because I just can’t bear losing this. I quickly blink them away, avoiding looking in the mirror again. 

I don’t want to ruin the moment, so I start pushing back against him again, urging him to pick up the pace. 

He obliges me for a few moments until he slows to a stop. He’s still panting and holding me against him before he sighs heavily.

“Darling, you feel amazing, but I don’t think I can finish,” he murmurs hesitantly, sounding regretful. 

I nod, sniffling. “It’s okay, we can stop.”

He pulls out and I swiftly right myself, pants back over my hips, bra holding what it should, sweater in the right place. It’s only then that I look in the mirror again. Luckily he didn’t bite me too hard, so there’s no hickey to cover up. I just wet my fingers and run them through my hair before flipping it back over. Leaning close to the mirror, I check that my makeup is still good.

“Were you crying?” he asks point blank, staring at me in the mirror. 

“No,” I lie, but I feel a river about to gush out of my nose, so I quickly snag a paper towel and blow into it. “I just had to sneeze real bad and didn’t wanna ruin the moment.”

Fully dressed again, he slides a hand down my butt, gripping it appreciatively. “I’d be happy to help you finish,” he suggests.

I shake my head. “No, it’s okay,” I say, forcing a reassuring smile on my face. I rock up onto the balls of my feet to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “Still scratched that itch and felt amazing.”

He takes my hand, pulling me to the door. “Then let’s get back. Hopefully they won’t give us too much grief for taking so long.” He smirks down at me and winks. Actually winks . It's such a quick thing, but it makes my heart contract in my chest with the need to be wrapped up in him again. 

God I’m so fucked.

~*~

As predicted, when we return Will and Jake are quick to wolf whistle. They’re over by the music and Thomus joins them while I sink into his seat next to Diana. My face has got to be as red as my sweater, but Diana doesn’t comment on it. She just hands me a full shot cauldron with an understanding look. Grateful, I take the shot. Getting dicked down sobered me a bit more than I wanted.

Eric is busy scribbling away in a little notebook and next to him is Kyle and his stupid judgmental face.

I ignore him and focus on Diana. “So what did you study at Oxford?”

“I studied Art History,” she says, “but I didn’t get, like, a degree or anything. I just wanted to know a little more about the art I was seeing in the museums here.”

“That’s one thing I haven’t done since I’ve gotten to England,” I say. “I used to love going to museums.”

She tilts her head, looking curious. “Were you meant to stay long?”

I shrug. “I had an internship at the Daily Prophet, which I’d been hoping would lead to a full time position at some point.”

“Oh, so you worked with Thomus then?” she asks. “You knew him… before.”

“No, actually,” I say, reaching over for my punch. “I… He wasn’t around all that much while I was there.” 

“What gives with the Deathly Hallows mark on the tree?” Kyle asks out of the blue. “You know it’s just a story, right?”

Diana, who’s clearly much more sober than Kyle is right now, looks at him without mirth. “It’s very real.”

I nod along, knowing all too well the truth behind the Deathly Hallows.

“Grindelwald murdered a lot of our family with the Elder Wand,” Diana continues. “Not to mention, I’ve seen invisibility cloaks with my own eyes.” She grimaces. “And yes, I know what I just said is an oxymoron.”

With another pull of my drink, I feel gutsy enough to ask something that’s been on my mind for a while. I lean closer to her and lower my voice. “So… has your brother… always been… “ I sigh. I feel silly saying ‘on our side’, but how else can I put it? “I don't know, I guess I'm asking about allegiances.”

Kyle gives me an ‘are you serious’ look. “Of course he’s been in on it,” he says, as if it should’ve been obvious. 

“The entire time?” I ask skeptically, distinctly remembering how not nice he was when we met the night Montague got beat the fuck up by Thomus.

“He’s playing the long game,” Diana explains. “Jake’s very good at wasting The Great Order’s time.” 

Her eyes are on the three men in the corner and I turn to look just as the three of them take a shot. “Does Thomus know?” I ask, my voice low.

“Thomus is under the impression that Jake just has reservations about certain things,” she says. 

“Participating without actually participating,” I surmise.

She nods. “Exactly.” Her gaze is drawn to Eric, and she stares at him for a moment before she asks, “What happened to your hand, Eric?”

Eric looks up, seeming to have forgotten where he was. He looks around and finds the three of us looking at him. Then the question seems to sink in and he looks down at his hand. Bandages wrap around his palm and twist up his two middle fingers.

“Oh, I uh, had a bit of an accident a few days ago,” he says. “Working on the…“ He eyes me for a second before looking back at Diana. “On the thing.”

“You don’t have to speak in code,” Kyle says to him. “She can handle a few more secrets.”

I nod in agreement, though really it has nothing to do with how good I am at keeping secrets. I’m just too nosey for my own good.

“Right, sure, yeah,” Eric says. He looks down at his notebook. “I’m having a bit of a timing issue. I think I’ve got the explosive strong enough, but it seems the stronger it gets, the less time I have before it goes off.”

I quickly glance back at Thomus, catching him downing another shot, before turning back and whispering, “You’re building a bomb?”

He nods. “Something powerful enough to break through Anti-Apparition wards.”

My eyes widen. “That’s a thing?”

The corners of his mouth turn up in an amused grin. “I’m definitely trying to make it one.”

“Do you have the recipe?” I ask, a bit eager. “I’ve had a similar issue with magical film developer. I might be able to help.”

“Yeah, here.” He flips through a couple pages until he lands on a spread that’s definitely got more use than the rest, then passes it to me.

As I scan the page, I see that a few of the core ingredients are the same, just how they’re incorporated is slightly different. The measurements are also scaled down for testing purposes.

“If this were to scale, how much willow root would you add?” I ask. 

“The entire root, but I chop it up.”

“If you grind it down into a powder and then weigh it, it’s easier to be more precise with the amount you add,” I explain, not looking up from the page. “And you’re not adding nearly enough bursting mushroom powder.”

When I look up, Eric’s head is tilted, his eyes unfocused, his mind clearly running away from him with this new information. “Interesting,” he says. 

“Magical film developing potion always implodes on itself. It’s just a fact. But I’ve made it so much that I can time it down to the second it’ll implode,” I explain. “Would you… want me to write the recipe down for you? Then you can compare.”

He blinks back into focus, nodding eagerly. “Yes, please do. Here.” He passes me his pen and I quickly jot down my recipe on the next available page in his book.

By the time I’m done, the music gets turned up, and the three in the corner start making their way over to us. I toss down the rest of my drink before reaching for Thomus’, but Kyle stops me. 

“Don’t,” he warns.

I quickly put two and two together. “What did you put in here?” I demand with a hushed voice.

“Relax,” he says, standing. “It’s just something to speed things up.”

Completely oblivious, Thomus plops right down next to me, swinging his arm around my shoulders. 

“Is that mine?” he asks, not bothering to wait for my response before he grabs his drink and chugs it. He audibly plonks the glass onto the coffee table and turns to me, grinning mischievously from ear to ear, looking like he has a dirty secret he can’t wait to share with me. I return his smile with a hesitant one of my own. 

He leans close to speak in my ear, though he’s not exactly quiet. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

My face immediately flushes because everyone heard that. I look around in panic to find everyone staring at us, too. Their expressions aren’t of disgust, though, just surprise.

“Oh my god,” I say, covering my face with my hands. I shoot to my feet. “I need a drink.”

As I speed away, I hear Thomus ask, “What did I say?”

I glance over my shoulder to see Diana covering her mouth in a fit of giggles and Jake shakes his head. “Dude.”

I’m munching on one of my red cookies when Thomus comes up behind me, his hand drifting down my back to settle on my waist. “What’s the matter?” he asks.

“Nothing. You just -” I glance up at him, noting his dilated pupils and flushed cheeks. “I guess I’ve just never seen you so relaxed. Especially around other people. And we’re acting like we’re…” My heart’s thundering in my chest as I force the last few words out. “Like we’re a couple.”

He turns to face me and leans a hip on the table. “You’re right, it is a bit out of our usual routine,” he admits, his expression serious. “I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

I sigh and shrug a shoulder. “No more than you usually do.” I put my hand over his where it rests on the table, pushing the tips of my fingers against his knuckles. “And I don’t hate… this, how it feels, you know? It’s just hard to pair it with everything else,” I say. “If that makes sense.”

He nods slowly, looking down at our hands. “This is all new for me, if you can believe it,” he says softly. “I just wanted you to enjoy yourself.”

I bump his hip with mine. “Hey, we fucked in the bathroom. I’d say I'm having a decent time.”

He snickers and leans in to kiss my cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, based on tonight’s agenda, but luckily Will calls us over from a card table Jake summoned to play Exploding Snap.

~*~

A little while later we’re all sitting around the card table. I’ve elected not to play since I don’t have my wand and technically Thomus doesn’t know that they know I have my magic.

Throughout the game, Thomus gets noticeably drunker than everyone else, despite only sipping his drink. During one round while waiting for his turn, I guess all the drinks and whatever Kyle spiked his drink with, finally catch up with him. He passes out with his head propped in one hand and the other loosely clutching his cards. 

When they notice, the room goes silent except for the Christmas music still playing. Kyle slowly reaches over and shakes Thomus’ shoulder, making his head fall right onto the table with an ominous thunk that does not match the vibe of McCartney’s Wonderful Christmastime .

I stare at his face, overwhelmingly anxious about his well-being, when an uncharacteristic snore breaks through the silence between songs. 

“Finally,” Jake sighs, tossing his cards onto the table and running a hand over his face. “You sure about this, Kyle? There’s no turning back from this.”

Kyle stands, pulling out his wand. “Trust me. This is the only way.’

“What happens now?” I ask. 

Kyle moves Thomus’ unconscious form into the air where he hovers with his arms and head dangling.

But he doesn’t answer me. 

“ Kyle ,” I press, “what happens now?”

“Now, we put him to bed and by the time he wakes in the morning, you’ll be long gone,” he answers, moving with Thomus towards the stairs on the other side of the room.

I stand too, quickly following him to demand answers. “Where, exactly, will I be?”

“That’s up to you,” he answers casually. “You can probably get away with hiding here in this massive fucking house until he leaves.”

“What, you think he’s just gonna accept that I’m gone?” I ask. “No questions asked?”

“Yeah, we’ll just tell him you must’ve left in the middle of the night or something. What room am I putting him in, Jake?”

We’ve gotten to the stairs and it’s only then I realize everyone has followed us, with Will right behind me. 

“Three doors down from the top of the stairs,” Jake answers. “On the left.”

I realize it’s the same room he put us in before and my face heats at the memory of being bound to the wall and fingered within an inch of my life. We get into the room and I rush forward to pull the velvety soft duvet back from the pillows. Kyle gently lowers him and I make sure he’s settled properly to avoid potentially choking on his own vomit in his sleep. 

“What now?” I ask, pulling off Thomus’ shoes and tucking his legs under the blankets before pulling up the unfitted sheet to his chest.

“Merlin,” Kyle exclaims. “Will you quit it?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “ No , I won’t,” I say tightly. “We need this figured out before there’s no going back.”

“Fine,” he says, mimicking my stance and leaning against the wall. “What’re you so worried about?”

I take a deep breath, trying to speak calmly. “What makes you so sure he’s not going to find me?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s literally the Death Eater’s best tracker.”

“He hasn’t found George Weasley,” Will says.

“I’ve no fucking idea how George has managed to avoid getting caught by anyone , given how much of a high profile he has, but there’s no way I could do the same and be close to Voldemort like you want. A missing Lot? The Death Eaters are gonna go apeshit.”

“What about that Lot that escaped early on? Killed her owner and everything,” Kyle says.

“I’m pretty positive she’s straight up left the country,” I say, talking with my hands. “And I don’t think any of us are on board with killing him.”

Kyle nearly rolls his eyes. “I never said we had to kill him,” he says. “You’re here, out of your wards. There’s no need.”

“Okay, well me leaving the country is the exact opposite of what we want,” I say and start to pace. “How long would I be hiding?”

“I don’t know,” Kyle answers, shrugging. “Could be months.”

“Great, so you’re just gonna come get me when it’s time to, what, attack Hogwarts? Do you really think there’s gonna be another fight there? Or are we waiting for him to make an appearance somewhere?”

“I’ve heard he’s pretty reclusive right now, actually,” Will pipes in. “He hardly leaves the school.”

“Great!” I exclaim with fake enthusiasm. “So I’ll just camp out in the Forbidden Forest, then? Take my chances at running into Dementors, Death Eaters, centaurs, fuckin’ giant spiders , for fucks’ sake?”

“Girl’s got a point, Kyle,” Jake says, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning against the ornate bed post. 

“Well, what else is she going to do? She’s useless to The True Order just playing house with a Malfoy,” Kyle says.

“Hey, I’ve done stuff,” I protest. “I’ve passed important notes to the Order, hidden a fugitive right under Thomus’ nose, and it was me who got the word to that safehouse that it was going to be raided.”

“ What ?!” Jake looks at me absolutely stunned. “That was you?”

“Yes! Who else in that room from the meeting would’ve tipped them off?” I ask. “ And I’ve managed to become immune to that scary as shit magic suppression potion. Have you ever taken that shit? It’s utterly terrifying to not have your magic.” I stop my pacing and look around at all of them. “To be completely at the mercy of someone who couldn’t give a shit whether you lived or died? We’ve all been sterilized and raped and branded as property. ” 

I pull my left sleeve up, bearing the tattoo and the scars Bellatrix left me. Diana’s visibly horrified and everyone else just looks mildly uncomfortable. “And these are just the scars I’m willing to show you.”

I force myself to calm down, breathing deep in through my nose and out my mouth. “I’m not going to jump headfirst into a plan held together with Spellotape and superglue,” I say after a moment. “Thomus trusts you guys. Aren’t you his best friend, Jake? Are you really gonna break his trust by losing something he obviously has put a lot of time and effort into keeping alive?”

Kyle is glaring hard at the carpet and Jake's intense focus jumps between me and Thomus. 

Jake exhales heavily. “She’s right.”

My shoulder’s sag with relief. “Thank you.”

“We have to think of a legitimate way to get you away from him,” Diana says. “Do you think he’d ever… let you go?”

I frown. “Like… set me free?” 

She nods. “Then maybe you could get scooped up by another Death Eater or something, someone who works more closely with You-Know-Who or who’d… loan you, I guess.”

I turn around to gaze at Thomus, sleeping soundly, and recall every possessive look or grab he’s given me. “No,” I say softly. “There’s no way he’d let me go willingly.”

Kyle snorts. “Yeah I second that. The asshole nearly slits my throat if I even talk to her when he’s not around.”

“Even if I could convince him somehow,” I say, “it wouldn’t matter what he wanted. I know he’d use the Death Eaters as an excuse. He couldn’t pretend I was gone if someone saw me. The Malfoy’s reputation and the trust the Dark Lord has in them would be put in jeopardy. There’s no way he’d risk the lives of his family.”

“Is there anybody that out ranks him?” Will asks. “Someone who could make that choice for him.”

“I’m not sure, really,” I admit. “I’m sure there is, but I don’t know who. Someone older, like his brother maybe?”

“We just need a reason for them to take you from him,” Jake explains. “Like a change of… ownership.”

“Who, though?” I ask. “And why?”

“Probably best if that’s something for us to figure out,” Kyle says pointedly. “Just in case.”

I sigh heavily and start heading towards the door. “Whatever. All I care about is that it’s legit, okay? Something that’s not gonna get any of us killed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Will agrees, stepping out of my way. “Where’re you going?”

“To stand outside and pretend that I’m free.”

[class-1b-bull]

Got any Class 1-b dorm stories/shenanigans?

Each characters random shenanigans/ random things they have done

Not proofread we die like men

Awase - he doesnt know how to cook so there has been multiple occasions where he tried to make instant noodles and he ended up burning the noodles really bad.. and then the entire kitchen stank for like a week.

Sen - when awase, kosei, or rin pisses him off he will wait for them to fall asleep before he carrys them to a completely different area and just leave them there. One time awase woke up in some random ass hotel across town...

Kamakiri - hes the dorms honorary bug catcher but one time there was this big ass bug pony was asking him to get and while he was making fun of her for being scared of a harmless bug it flew right at his face and bit him. He has a massive red mark on his face for like a week.

Kuroiro - he stayes up late often but one time after multible all nighters he feel asleep in class. The worst part is he found out (through his classmates telling him) that he snores like a cartoon character.

Kendo - she unintentionally scares the shit out of monoma every time shes nearby. Like she walks up to wherever he is and, if he didnt see her coming, he will scream at the top of his lungs and it scares everyone involved every time. (She gets a kick outa it tho)

Kodai - shes also banned from the kitchen for starting a house fire. Its not that she is a bad cook but she was trying to teach awase how to cook better. And that clearly didnt end well.

Komori - one time she activated her quirk in her sleep and when everyone woke up the next morning the entire dormitory was covered in mushrooms.

Shiozaki - once when she was still getting used to dorm life she opened the windows to get some fresh air and a gust of wind blew her hair back and ended up hitting one of her classmates in the face.

Shishida - once when he was still getting used to the dorms he accidentally walked into the girls bathroom. No one was in there (luckly) but he still thinks about how badly that could have went to this day.

Shoda - shoda and awase are in the 'I cant cook to save my life club'. Though they were officially banned for two different reasons. While awase almost burned the place down, shoda overloaded the dishwasher and accidentally flooded the common area.

Pony - one day when she woke up later than usual she ended up tripping and falling flat on her face right ouside of the classroom door (so everyone saw it) while the class was asking if she was ok she just layed on the floor face down in embarrassment.

Tsubaraba - when they first moved into the dorms, kosei thought it was a bright idea to hide in rins room and scare him when he came in. He jumped out of rins wardrobe and yelled and rins reflexes cause him to punch kosei in the face and knock him out lmao.

Tetsutetsu - he was told to prove he was stronger than the dorm walls once. He wasent going to at first but then awase said "do it no balls." So he backed up, hardened his entire body, and ran into the wall full speed. (Theres still a tetsu shaped hole in the wall bacause of it)

Tokage - one time she decided to prank Shiozaki by leaving tons of potted plants in her dorm when she was asleep. It didnt work tho since Shiozaki didnt even notice they were there since her room is already covered with plants. Tokage still doesnt know if she should tell her the truth or not.

Manga - he has a tendency to listen to music full volume when hes alone in the dorms and pretend he is in a music video. Hes been caught pretending to be ariana grande by some of his classmates before lmao

Honenuki - theres been multiple occasions where hes deep in thought and he ends up just walking into something. Its always fun to witness.

Bondo - he is the tallest in the class so he probably has hit his head on the door frames in the dorms more times than he would like to admit.

Monoma - theres nothing specific that stands out but once he got pissed at his class so he switched the labels of everything in the fridge and cabinets. It was fun watching people put salt in their coffee...

Reiko - once she was watching a horror movie in the common area and anytime someone tried to join in with what she was watching they would only watch a few seconds before leaving for the sake of their sanity. (Her class now think shes insane lmao)

Rin - once when he was thirsty in the middle of the night he went to get a drink from the fridge and he just drank the first thing he saw. Turns out he drank a full bottle of those refrigerated liquid tylenols and he ended up passed out for like 12 hours after.

Dont let my crippling pokemon addiction show challenge (impossible)

[impala-dreamer]

Beka, you're an adult, right? Do you have any advice for someone who is almost 30 and still doesn't really know how to adult? Or is it just a shared illusion that all adults have their lives completely figured out (which I kind of hope)? 🤔😅

Me, ticking down the weeks until I turn 39: I am an Adult? Yes. Sure. Mhm.

Lemme let you in on the grand secret of the universe:

No one has any idea what they're doing. No one has their shit together. No one has anything figured out. Even if it looks like we do, it's all a vast illusion propagated by social media standards and idiots with their "aesthetics" and long-standing social expectations that have been passed down through the generations to make you feel like a failure for not fitting in and conforming.

The very idea that someone out there has all of their ducks in a row is complete bullshit since ducks don't just stand there once you get them in a row and life, in general, is constantly changing. There is no way to set up the ducks so that they are perfectly in a line, all the time. It's just ludicrous.

Since I was 19 years old, I have been striving for perfection in adulthood and I have been an eternal failure. Except that in itself is bullshit, because the mere fact that I'm still alive tells me that I'm not a failure.

THERE IS NO PERFECTION. THERE IS NO WAY TO BE AN ADULT. It's all fake. It's all a lie.

If you're alive and breathing and the people that you are charged- whether by choice or fate- to care for are alive and breathing and relatively happy- then you are doing your best and have won.

I cannot find my fucking checkbook and I've been looking for it for the past two weeks and it's just - Gone. Directly resulting in the fact that my 1st quarter property taxes are a week late and I'll probably be charged a fee for that. I also am completely out of prescription refills for every single one of my medications and I can't get myself to any form of medical professional to get new scripts. My bathroom sink has been clogged for two years. Two lightbulbs are out in my kitchen even though there's a box of new lightbulbs under the kitchen sink. I haven't put away my clean laundry in months, I just pull shit out of the dryer or the tote bin I've chucked it into. I forgot to renew the car registration for our cars and we got a huge ticket last month. My son's birthday is Sunday and I can't make myself clean the living room even though we're having family over, and his friends over on Saturday. BUT -- my family is clothed and fed and happy.

Who's to say what adulting is and who can judge us?

IN CONCLUSION:

It's all a lie. There is no perfection. Adulting is just keeping yourself going.

The best advice I can give you is to do your fucking best to make yourself happy and Fuck Everything Else.

Amen.

[lightspren]

i am. so very stressed.

my dads health is apparently in the toilet. but of course he and mom aren’t telling us this (until mom got so stressed she had to vent to my sister, who told me). and since we’re not supposed to know we can’t just go help with the things they need help with or dad would get mad and either cause problems for mom or cause himself a cardiac event.

(bonus stress: perpetual guilt that i don’t go see them enough, or my in laws for that matter)

i have to go to my sisters tomorrow and play with the kids and it is fun, i do enjoy it, but they’re so exhausting. it’s so loud and it’s so much and i’m just not good at dealing with it. but i love the kids so i’ll go. plus my brother will be there with the baby and i wanna see her too

my yard is a wreck. I didn’t do any garden this year because i’m still terrified of bugs from the incidents last year. and we’ve both been sick so no chance of taking care of the grass. and there’s weeds growing up everywhere that I haven’t dealt with. and frankly don’t know when i’ll be physically able and have the time to deal with them. plus the junk on the carport that’s needed dealt with for like. years at this point i think.

then inside needs vacuumed and dishes and deep clean the kitchen and bathroom and junk needs removed and on and on and on. and on. plus repair things like the leaky pipe and the ceiling peeling off in the bathroom. plus the dishwasher we bought literal years ago but never got to installing because i cannot get my shit together enough to get the supplies and get my brother in law to come help do it

oh and i just remembered the plushies i told the kids i’d make like nine months ago that are still in various pieces.

then oh as if i’m not complaining enough i’m over here tearing myself apart over thinking i’m not a good writer and am wasting my time (and i don’t need a speech about “enjoying the process”—I usually do enjoy the process. but I also desperately want my story to be shared with other people, and I can’t tell if it’s too shitty and self indulgent for that or not)

and also. the respiratory infection seems finally mostly clear. still have a bit of a cough but it’s getting better. so i’m just fucking sitting here *waiting* to see what the next fuckery is, because I’ve been in this cycle since January and i’m quite certain it isn’t just going to stop

it’s just. they’re all little things. especially in the grand scheme of The World. they’re all little things!!! they’re all little things that have piled up into big things and now each and every one of them seems completely insurmountable. i am exhausted and I just want to rest. GOD i want to rest. but even when i plan downtime i have half this shit staring me in the face and letting guilt eat away at me for not doing Things.

and i know right now i need to sleep but it’s a bandaid. this feeling is still under the surface at all times, the gnawing grinding guilt of it all, of being a failure of an adult.

and i don’t have a point here. I don’t need told that i deserve to rest or that i’m not failing. conceptually i recognize that this is an overreaction. but it still feels real and the fact of the matter is that I have no idea how I’m supposed to manage dealing with all of this shit. especially when I just want to sleep and never leave my house. the end.

[allsassnoclass]

hi hazel! can i ask 6, 20 and 28? -taylor

@jbhmalumm hi taylor! thank you so much for sending these you are the only reason i started my nano project today!

6. Describe your dream home. ooooo i've been thinking about this a lot because i'm trying my best to save for one but i fear it will never ever happen. anyway my friend and i are going to buy a house together when she moves here and we've been talking a bit but a big thing is that we need at least three bedrooms (one for me, one for her, one for a possible future foster child). we would also like a guest bedroom or a finished basement so we can host friends!!! in an ideal world, i would want a sun room, and i want either a large front room or a specific music room so i can have a grand piano!!!! yknow. if i ever win the lottery or get stupid rich and can afford one. the main bathroom should be blue. the kitchen should be yellow. in general, i don't want white walls anywhere. actually if my friend lets me paint the kitchen cabinets i'm considering copying a different van gogh painting onto each of them because my friend also loves van gogh and that would make the kitchen very fun and unique. i am fully willing to go wild with the paint and some basic carpentry to make this house personalized to the both of us. i would also like a fenced-in back yard so that we can have a dog, and i would like a piece of stained glass somewhere (doesn't need to be a full window, i know lots of houses do little stained glass pieces above the front door or something like that). mostly though i want the house to be full of love <3

20. What is something you’re obsessed with? i am so into cobra kai right now it's kind of ridiculous. like. check-the-tumblr-and-ao3-tags-daily into it. i don't know why. i haven't watched the original karate kid movies. i missed the first two seasons because my family watched it while i was at college. i didn't particularly enjoy seasons 3 and 4 when i caught episodes while my sister and dad were watching, but for some reason i got really into season 5 and now i'm watching from the beginning and have made it into season 3 again. it's a karate soap opera but it's my karate soap opera and all of the teen characters are my children and i absolutely love it despite it's shortcomings and i think that there are so many fascinating things you could say about cycles of violence/abuse and trauma and collateral damage and gang indoctrination and some of the dynamics between the characters make me absolutely crazy. i have started writing 4 fics for it within the past few weeks with many more ideas written down. i want to be a fight choreographer so bad

28. Who is the funniest person you know? ooooo this is actually a really difficult question! possibly the friend who i'm getting a house with lol. she cracks me up because she has a really subtle, dry humor, so her jokes and jabs always catch me off guard a little. also i am delighted by her presence :)

[goodgirlofglory]

In the balance - Chapter 4: Put

Chapter 3 - Chapter 5

/Masterpost/

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 3,1k

Warnings: non-con, dub-con, depression, angst, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, smut, non-con smut, vaginal sex, lack of hygiene, starvation due to depressive hungerstrike.

Summary: As it dawns on you how trapped you are, you take poorly to the captivity.

Note: Allright you guys, this is officially a series. It will be 10 chapters AT LEAST!! Seeing I really got myself into it with the set-up of the first three parts, I have no idead how often I will update this. Last time I wrote a series, I had finished virtually every part before I even posted the prologue, so this is also the first time I’m writing and posting parts simultaneously. A masterlist will be made momentraily and all parts updated with it!! I’m excited!!!

Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you to not interact if the contents of the warnings trigger you. Minors DNI! 

My work is not to be distributed outside this blog. 

Likes, replies and reblogs are amaaaazing💞💞

You slept as if you were dead that first night, the shock to your system knocking you out cold as soon as Steve left the room. 

You woke up alert, instantly remembering everything about where you were and how you got there. In the early morning sun, the room shone in a warm light, every piece of furniture and fabric looking soft, inviting - like something out of a magazine. 

A surge of panic had you moving up and out of bed. You found your discarded clothes on the floor and hastily put them on, noticing you had nothing else on you - neither your phone, wallet or keys were in sight. 

Didn't matter, you just needed to get out. This wasn't happening.

You made your way into the hallway and followed it down past several sets of double doors, side tables with beautiful flower decorations and little else. Your feet made no sound on the plush, mauve carpet. In fact, the house was completely void of sound. The grand staircase looked even more impressive in daylight. The ceiling had stained glass that painted the white walls in a flourish of coloured light, and the marble of the staircase felt cool under your bare feet. It was all obscenely grand, like a home belonging to someone who didn’t know who they were and had too much wealth to know what to do with. For all his mystery, you would never have imagined Steve living in a place like this. It kept dawning on you how frightfully little you knew him. 

Steve had taken your shoes, maybe even as early as when he’d strapped you into the jet - or maybe you lost them running in the woods? You didn’t even remember, your mind growing hazy with the urge to get outside - to just get away.

The double-door entrance was locked when you went to slowly pry it open, and you noticed the second lock needed a key - a key that was nowhere in sight. Okay, next door, a window, anything. You moved silently through the entrance hall and into the living room, remembering how you’d come in through a back porch door the night before. You found it easily enough retracing your steps, but this was also locked with a lock that needed a key from the inside. You contemplated throwing something to break one of the huge, floor length windows in the living room, but that could make too much sound. You didn’t know if Steve was in the house or not. Outside, you saw the garden, the landing patch with the jet still on it, and around, a lawn large enough it could be more aptly described as a field, and behind it, thick forest. No buildings, no city, nothing. You had no idea where this mansion was or what surrounded it. But anything would be better than staying here. 

You took a new path out of the living room, peering around corners into an office, a large bathroom, a huge library with stuffed bookshelves in dark wood, big, old chairs that looked like they would swallow you whole and lastly, a kitchen. And across from the large kitchen island there was another set of porch doors - wide open, the light drapes blowing softly in the breeze coming from outside. Your feet carried you towards it on instinct, stepping into the spacious kitchen. 

“Good morning,” came Steve’s familiar voice, jolting you. Glancing to your left, you saw him, casually reclined in a chair by the dining table to the right. Great, he was waiting for you, the open doors bait. 

You didn’t even halt as you marched for the door, instantly relieved as you cleared it, feeling the direct heat of the sun on your face as your bare feet touched the small porch outside, and then - deliciosuly soft and cool grass. Ahead was another mile of neatly mowed lawn and the treeline in the distance. 

Steve’s booming steps sounded on the porch behind you. 

“Sweetie, come back. There’s nothing but forest that way, and a very high fence you can’t climb” Steve called behind you, somewhere between amusement and exasperation. 

Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. Was it true? Were you so remote? Recalling the night before, you figured any attempt to outrun him would be pointless. And a fence, enclosure all the way around, no doubt with a locked gate, if there even was a road leading in and out of this place. For all you knew, the only way in was via fucking jet plane. The pit in your chest threatened to swallow you whole, and you gulped in a fortifying breath. You wouldn’t give up yet. 

Turning on your heel, you marched back up to Steve, shoeless feet not exactly intimidating in the soft grass. Reaching him, you craned your neck to stare him down. You reached your hand out. 

“My car keys,” you stated, your voice surprisingly even. 

Maybe if you just showed Steve that you were not going to play along on this, he would return to his senses and let you go home. It wasn't too late to just go back to the way things were. Surely you would have a, if marginal, say in this. 

Steve cocked his head at you before turning on his heel and walking back to the house. 

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” he said, not even looking back as he slipped into the kitchen. 

You briefly considered continuing across the lawn and into the trees, but ended up following Steve back inside the house. He’d returned to his previous seat, sipping a coffee cup. You stepped up to him, careful to keep a foot of distance between you. It was never a good idea to let Steve get too close. 

“I need my car keys. I need to go to work,” you said simply. In any sane world it should be more than enough. But your stomach was turning, glooming doubt trickling along every nerve in your body. 

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve already turned in your resignation, and your car is on its way to a landfill,” Steve said, looking up at you with a calm demeanor, no doubt thinking he was reassuring. 

The world threatened to spin as you processed that. 

What?

“You can…you can’t do that!,” you protested. “You have no right to do that! That's my income, my livelihood!,” you said, voice coming out trembling, your throat feeling tighter. 

“You don't need it anymore. Besides, a woman in your condition shouldn’t slave away -”

“B-but, how am I going to pay for my apartment?” you interrupted, mind scrambling to get a grip on your thoughts. Your heart was pounding painfully again.

Steve reached out a hand to grasp yours, too hot as it enveloped your hand completely. 

“Sweetie, I thought we agreed on this last night. You’ll live here now. I’ve already terminated your lease. I can’t believe how much your landlord charged for that cupboard. It was practically a scam,” Steve said, and his tone was so reprimanding, it made you feel chastined, humiliated, like a child. 

You liked your apartment, your landlord was a nice, old man - the closest thing you’d had to a friend. Sure it was a bit costly, but it was yours. Your safe place, your sanctuary…

"No, p-please," you whimpered, a sob lodged in your throat, your mind quickly collapsing on itself, anguish spreading like a puddle in your chest. "Please, don't do this," you besieged.

His hand squeezed yours as it felt like you were sinking into yourself. Bile rose high in your throat.

“It's already done," Steve answered calmly, his words like boulders pulling you down into dark gloom. "I told you, honey, not to worry about a thing. You won’t ever need to go back to that sad, dreary life you had. I’ve taken care of everything. Now, breakfast,” he ended triumphantly. 

You wrenched your hand out of his. Body hunching forward, you hurled. 

§

You hadn’t showered in days, hair greasy, smelling faintly of sweat and grime. You hadn’t eaten either. Anything you dained to eat didn’t stay down either way. The god awful nausea had settled deep in your gut, making every movement slow and strained. Steve hadn’t gone so far as to force feed you. Yet, that was. 

You'd gone completely off the rails after that first fit of vomiting. The details were fuzzy, but you'd started by wrenching Steve’s cup out of his hands before hurling it to crack into a million pieces against the wall. Then you'd upended the table before Steve got you locked in his arms. He had dragged you back to your room while you screamed your voice hoarse, your feet kicking out against anything in your path, a brief moment of sweet, petty vindication surging as you knocked a vase over in the entrance hall and he groaned in responding frustration, filling the room with a cracking sound as it split open on the marble. You’d never heard sounds like that before, let alone from your own body. 

Steve carried you up, not even breaking a sweat against your struggle, laying you on the bed and pinning you there until you ceased your thrashing, your howls shrinking to groans. 

"I know this is challenging, darling. You'll stay here till you reach your senses again, til you become my sweet, good girl again," he said, so easily dismissing you fighting for your life.

As soon as he locked the doors behind him, you bolted from the bed and started throwing things, destroying everything you saw, knocking over furniture, tearing clothes, breaking vases, animalistic sounds ripping out of your mouth. You would be embarrassed if desperate, white hot, crawling panic wasn’t exploding through every atom of your body, seeking vengeance and rescue all at once. You hated him, hated, hated, hated him.

You only stopped when the vertigo hit you, sparks of light dancing before your eyes and your feet giving out under you.

Steve wasn’t pleased by your behavior, but for once he was so uncharacteristically non-invasive in the days that followed. He moved you to another room when you blacked out from distress, and by that point you didn’t have enough energy to throw things. It doesn’t matter anyway, the hopelessness in your chest whispered to you. The biggest fight you could muster was only a spot of inconvenience and a renovation cost for Steve. 

The mansion closed like a tomb around you.

He prepared meals for you, but didn’t go further than implore you to eat them. There were soft towels and deliciously smelling shower products from the most high end lines in the bathroom, but he didn’t force you into the shower. He didn’t touch you at all. And you ended up thinking of your lack of hygiene as a form of armor. A form of buffer that held his touch away, let you simmer in your rage - and filth - alone. 

You slept, vomited, went to the bathroom, slept, cried, ate a little, vomited, slept - all the while simmering with rage and self-pity.

Steve went away to work on your sixteenth day of no shower and limited food intake. He lingered by the bed, brows drawn down in concern as he took in your lethargic form nestled in the messy bed sheets of your room. You still wore the clothes you’d come in, having refused all of the soft, silken and plush clothes that hung in the closet, creamy and light pastel color, all in your exact size. It repulsed you, how he had so clearly pictured you barefoot and soft, mellow and compliant as you leisured around the house without any protest. 

“I’ll be back in a few days. Please eat and drink something, take care of yourself. If not for you, then for the baby” he implored silently, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of your duvé. You wanted to swat his hand away. 

The baby. You had completely forgotten about that. Didn’t matter though, maybe you’d lose it if you starved for long enough, and then Steve would cast you out. No, he’d promised to keep you forever in that case. Maybe you would die before that time. 

You were tired, so tired, and if you didn’t move a muscle, the nausea was manageable. You’d already hurled several times that morning, heaving until spots appeared before your eyes, nothing but bitter stomach acid coming up and into the bucket by the bed. 

He went away, and you stayed in bed until darkness settled outside the window. Groggily, you got up to use the toilet, your piss a dark brown as you took in the poor state of your dehydrated and famished body. Wilting so fast in your captivity. 

But with Steve gone, you could breathe. And you slowly made your way down to the kitchen, finding a meal of cold pot roast with vegetables in the fridge, managing to get about three bites down before your stomach threatened to knock you out. You drank a glass of cold water, soothing as you felt it go down. Outside, the whole world was in darkness. Shouldn’t you be finding a way to escape? 

Maybe, but right now all you could think about was returning to bed, to obliterating, dreamless unconsciousness. Returning to your room, you glanced inside the luxurious bathroom en suite. It had a large tub, star spots in the dark blue ceiling, a tropical shower head in the spacious shower stall and shelf upon shelf of luscious oils and lotions, hair products and soaps that smelled like something out of a five star spa. 

You pressed your nose into a simple bar of lavender soap, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasant and clean scent soothed you. You looked at the shower stall for a while, contemplating. If you dressed in the same clothes and got into the same sheets, maybe Steve wouldn’t notice you’d used the facilities you swore you’d forever refuse. 

Maybe Steve would die while on the job…

You undressed slowly, nearly falling as you struggled to take your hoodie off, the hassle making you dizzy. 

How had you ended up here? What had you been thinking, all those months with his visits? That it would forever stay like that? Why hadn’t you run away sooner, disappeared. How stupid you’d been, just staying put like sitting duck, just waiting for him to do this. To steal you away to be kept like livestock, locked away, your previous life, your home, job, things - everything you’d worked so hard to obtain - taken away and obliterated, like dust on a shelf. Bitter tears stung your cheeks for what felt like the millionth time. 

You’d worked so hard for that job, even harder for the apartment. You’d slaved away all your life, with no connections, no inheritance from your dead relatives, practically no skills or talents. Working your way up to full time at the yarn store was the achievement of your life, the stepping stone to an honest, hard working life. And now it was just gone, thrown away by Steve like trash. 

The shower was heaven. The warm water battered your aching muscles, loosening your stiffened joints. Your plan of rewearing your old clothes was swiftly disregarded as the new scent of lavender permeated your floating, sated state. You trudged out of the bathroom half asleep before dumping into the messy bed, already slipping into unconsciousness. 

§

You awoke to the sensation of warmth along your back. You lay on your side, your cover thrown off somewhere, the night air chilly on your naked skin. Something tickled your neck, pulling your hair away. You murmured, your lips not quite moving yet as you trudged the edge of sleep. Your neck tingled again, and then something distinctly hard against your asscheek tore you from your slumbering state. 

You jolted forward before being promptly tugged back by a large arm around your middle. A frustrated whimper escaped you as you wiggled against your restraints. 

Steve hushed you quietly, his breath tickling your ear, his lips touching just under it. He inhaled deeply before letting out a pleased sigh ending on a soft groan. 

“You smell so good tonight, I hardly believed my luck finding you like this, naked and clean and ready,” he murmured into your skin, making goosebumps rise along your arms and back.  

“You were supposed to be gone,” you said through gritted teeth, hands fisting in the sheets in rage. 

He didn’t answer, only continued to kiss your neck, slowly unwinding his arm from around your middle, gauging your reaction all the while. You didn’t move until you felt him prod along your asscrack with his cock, leaking tip smearing your skin. That’s when you tried to bolt again, only to end up rolled onto your stomach, Steve’s hand pressing you down into the mattress as he straddled the back of your thighs. 

“I’ve been patient, tried to wait. But you’re just too much for me, honey,” he said as he used his hand to prod his cock between your cheeks again, searching for your entrance. “Do you feel what you do to me? The hold you have over me?” he asked, finding your hole. 

Hold? You would have laughed if tears weren’t strangling you, your whimpers muffled by the sheets underneath you. What a pathetically ironic thing to say… 

He pulled back and spat crudely at your hole before unceremoniously pushing inside, making your flesh yield to him. You cried out at the sudden pain before your breath hitched in your throat. Your stomach recoiled. 

Steve groaned above you, his hand moving from his cock to hold your cheeks open as he started to rock back and forth in a filthy grind inside you. 

“God, I’ve missed you, you feel so fucking good,” he grunted out, and your muscles slowly seized up, stiffening against your will. You slapped a hand back on his thigh as the pain persisted with his grinding thrusts. 

“H-hurts,” you stuttered out between small gulps of air. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, it’ll feel good in a moment. Be good for me now,” he said, not an ounce of sympathy in his tone, too far gone in his own pleasure. 

On your next exhale, it felt like you left your own body. Just went away, floated up to the ceiling, looking onto the scene like a passive bystander. You grew limp, your muscles loosening to a puddle of limbs. You weren’t there, this wasn’t real. None of it was. Steve wasn’t there, doing this, and if he was, it wasn’t you he did it to. 

Steve bent down to lave at your neck, his mouth moving up to yours. You stayed limp underneath him, rhythmically rocked on the bed by Steve’s steady thrusts. He tried to kiss your mouth, but you stayed unmoving, and you could feel him grow frustrated at your lack of response. 

Good, he might as well be fucking a corpse, you thought as he pried his tongue into your mouth, only managing to lick over your teeth slightly. 

You don’t know how much time passed, but when Steve’s hips stuttered and he moaned his release quietly, you exhaled in relief, just longing to go back to sleep. But before you could drift off, you curled over the edge of the bed and gagged, nothing but choked air coming up.

This was what your life had amounted to. This pitiful existence at the hands of this man. 

§

Note: Our girl’s not doing so great, unfortunately. I’m dying to know what you think of this developement!!

[themultifandomgal]

I love your imagines so much. I’d like the send in a request for Dylan O’Brien please where YN and Dylan are going to a family event and YN tells her family that she’s pregnant thank you so much 😊

Dylan O’Brien- Family Gathering

Dylan and I have been dating for 7 years now, we met on the set of teen wolf, he playing Stiles and myself playing Ella Hale. Thankfully both our families adore each other which makes family gatherings rather easy to attend to. Today it's my grandparents wedding anniversary, their Gold wedding anniversary to be exact, so Dylan and I take the 3 hour drive to their house where they are having a little party.

On arrival we enter the house with a secret that today my family will know about.. I'm pregnant, 10 weeks, of course my parents know but the rest of the family have no idea. I’m holding a little bag with a baby onesie saying ‘you’ve been promoted from grand parents to great grand parents’

"Alan put the kettle on, YN and Dylan are here" my Nan greats us at the front door

"Hi Nan" I give her a hug and kiss her cheek

"Mary you look wonderful" Dylan also greets my Nan with a hug

"Thank you Dylan, always the charmer. Now come and sit down, you must be exhausted after the drive" Nan ushers us inside and takes us to the living room where my Aunt and Cousin are sat along with the rest of my extended family

"Hi everyone" I greet my family

"Hi cuz" my younger cousin Jack greets getting off his seat and hugging me "hi Dylan"

"Alright Jack. How have you been?"

"I'm good, yourself?"

"Jack I'm stealing your seat" I plonk myself down on to the seat next to my auntie

"I'll go and get you a drink" Dylan tells me and walks out of the room and into the kitchen

"I'm so happy you and Dylan could both come"

"So am I. I wish we came yesterday though because I'm exhausted" I yawn.

As the day goes on I have been feeling sick, knowing it's just morning sickness I try to ignore it, but a few times I've had to and throw up or go for a wee. I've just returned from the bathroom and sit on the chair next to Dylan

“Do you want some wine YN?” my auntie asks

“No thank you”

“Ok who are you and what have you done to my cousin?” Jake asks me “you always say yes to wine”

“Well actually i have got something to tell everyone” I stand up nervously “nan, grandad can you sit down” my nan sits in the chair I just got up from, Dylan stands up letting my grandad sit down “ok wait there” I go into the kitchen and grab the bag and go back into the living room where everyone is. I give my nan the bag, when she opens it she’s pulls out the baby clothes

“Oh my goodness” she starts crying

“Congratulations” my grandad gets up and hugs both me and Dylan

“You always said you wanted to meet your great grandchild, and now you are” I hug my nan

“Now the no wine makes sense. Congratulations cuz”

“Oh I’m so excited. How far along are you?” my auntie asks

“10 weeks, but we knew we wanted to tell you all today”

“How is the teen wolf movie going to work? will Ella be pregnant?”

“No we’re filming now before I get big then I’ll probably just be wearing big coats” I chuckle at my cousin

“Well I think we should all have a glass in honour of this new baby, YN there’s some no alcoholic beer if you want some”

“Sure” my grandad gets up and goes to get me a drink

“So will you move out of your apartment?” nan asks me and Dylan

“Yeah we’re already looking at some houses, we’re looking at in between here and my parents place” he tells my nan

“Oh that would be lovely, hopefully we could see you more then”

“That’s the plan” I smile as my grandad gives me a glass

“To YN, Dylan and this new baby” everyone raises their glasses and we all take a sip. I can’t wait for our baby to arrive.

[dojunie]

★★★

desc: random iotas of what—out of being buzzed, tipsy, or drunk— i think the members of nct dream are most likely to be at a party! since dear jisung is officially of age, i thought this would be an interesting thing to write! (also yay first offical post ??? hmhmhm :-])

warnings: mentions of, obviously, alcohol!

members: all of nct dream!

wc: about 2k!

mark lee; buzzed, because he's usually designated driver, but is no stranger to getting turnt.

As much as everyone would love to see this goody two-shoes really let loose, Mark is more the type to quit while he's ahead— which means cutting himself off when he's just getting started with his drinks. Responsible Older Brother vibes, you know? Just enough to be conversational, maybe a little loose, a little giggly, but not too much that he doesn't have all his faculties in check at the end of the night, because the idea of not remembering the night before definitely freaks him out. BUT! When he DOES let it go, on the rare occasion he's not DD'ing for his blacked out friends, I feel like Mark gets Super Incredibly Fucked Up. Krumping on kitchen islands, fucked up. Can be talked into doing literally anything, fucked up. It's like one second he's completely fine, hanging with his buds, having a grand old time, and then all of a sudden he's bouncing off the walls and laughing wildly, dancing with anybody who looks at him, having the time of his life, and telling everyone who will listen that he 'loves them so much he could just die'. Yes, even to people he barely knows. Declarations of love are commonplace when Mark is a few drinks in.

And everyone knows that Mr. Mark Lee is quite talkative already, but get ready to quite possibly get your whole ear jabbered off if Mark decides that you're his buddy for the night. You'd better hope to god you don't have to use the bathroom anytime soon because Mark will go on forever if you let him; and who could ever say no to a face like that? (Especially when it's speaking so emphatically about what song he's been learning on the guitar that week, how cool his new dance teacher is, and the rap concert his friend TY is taking him to the next day?? You'd have to be a real mean son of a gun to interrupt that.)

huang renjun; tipsy, but like... heavily so.

And he's a giggly tipsy person, too. The touchy, always laughing, everything is absolutely hilarious, draping himself on people, way too close to you when he's talking kind— that kind of tipsy. It's cute though; it's like he sheds just about every calm, mature inhibition when he's got a few drinks in him, and by a few drinks, I mean a few drinks, because there is no doubt in my mind that Jun is a lightweight. Two shots of something strong and he’ll start getting all smiley; laughing himself to tears at things that aren’t really meant to be jokes. If he manages four shots? He's holding onto people around him because his legs won't keep him upright. Six shots and he's hugging and clinging to people he doesn't fucking know, and one of the other boys will have to use force to pry him off of whatever poor person has become his new smootch victim crutch for the night. (But... who doesn't want a half-drunk, giddy, outside-voice-right-in-your-ear using, gooey Renjun latched onto their side for an hour or two? Right?)

Renjun will want to do stuff when he's under the influence. He'll want to bake, and draw, and play Mario Kart, and dance, and he’ll want to adventure! …But he’s also incredibly impatient, so he's going to give up on all of those things about ten minutes in and it''ll be up to you to turn the oven off, and move the paints out of the way before he tramples them, turn off the blaring music he's magically stopped hearing, and half carry him back home when he gets bored of adventuring. He’ll sing at the top of his lungs in public places, and will bite you if you try to cover his mouth when you get glares. (Will also try to fight the people who glare.) Yes. He's an angry drunk, too. Will switch from extreme, cute tittering, to glares and pouts and half baked bickering. It kind of loses its heat though when the angry drunk in question is 5'7, too woozy to stand up straight, and hiccups after every death threat. (Just don't let him know that.)

lee jeno; WASTED!

This man gets Project X levels of turnt. Jeno, much like non-DD Mark, drinks like it's his last night on earth if he's in the situation where the vibes are right (and if he's with his friends, the vibes are always right). He doesn't do that responsible, slow, sipping-sipping shit, either: He is the embodiment of 'Drink First, Ask Questions Later', and this can be attested by the fact that he doesn't even ask what's in a drink before he tosses it down his throat and Kobe's the cup into the trash.

You'd think he'd be one of those that basically become a wobbly, barely-sentient couch potato after how he drinks, right? Wrong! Jeno, amongst his other talents, is also one of those magical, superhuman people who'll be half a Jaeger handle into the night and still dust you in beer pong, hacky sack, charades, and just about every other party game that normal people can barely pull off completely sober. He'll slur his words and stutter his sentences and forget what he's talking about halfway through a conversation, but if you dare him to do a backflip off the roof into the pool in the backyard? Prepare to get him a towel. You wanna challenge him to a handstand competition after he just shotgunned two cans of 4loko? Have fun throwing up your insides in a few minutes, because Jeno will not only win, but double your time for fun, do a lap around the whole house on his hands, and do a kegstand afterwards. Jeno gets wasted, but where normal men would fall, his manic power will only grow.

lee donghyuck; drunk, but no matter how much he drinks, he just seems a little tipsy to everyone else.

I feel as though Hyuck can drink and drink and drink and only ever reach, like... Slightly More Touchy & Giggly Donghyuck mode. He's already always so boisterous that it’s hard to imagine he'll be anything new when he's got a few drinks in; someone tells you he's kissing people? Duh, he does that when he's sober. Hyuck is picking people up and licking them and laughing in their ears and refusing to let go of strangers he just met? …So? You could tell me that at 9AM on a Monday morning and I'd just go, 'Oh, Fr? Yeah, Hyuck is like that :)'. And TBH... if anything, I think Donghyuck might actually Simmer Down a bit when he's drunk. He'll get all touchy like Jun does, but more in the 'I'm going to wrap myself around you on this couch and cry if you try to get up and leave me', type of way. In the 'I'm going to stare at you while you talk and not absorb a single word because I am 1. trying so incredibly hard not to kiss you, a person i met ten minutes ago, and 2. I might fall over if I sit up too fast' kind of way. Hyuck gets drunk, but the thing is that you just don’t realize it because… he’s kind of just always like that.

He falls in love with people who pay him the barest attention. Wears his heart on his sleeve (even more obviously than usual). If you thought he was flirty before? Hoo boy. You'll be swept off your feet with drunk Donghyuck, and I mean this quite literally: because Hyuck is already possibly the most touchy, no-personal-space-having person that has ever existed on planet earth when he's sober, much less when he can't think straight about whether he should really be scooping this pretty stranger off the ground or not. (Though, obviously, if it's you he's clinging to— you can't really say you mind it too much.)

na jaemin; is either barely buzzed or sloppy, barely understandable, might need to go to the Emergency Room, tanked.

No inbetween. He plays nice on most nights. Prefers to sip at a white claw or something, you know, something light. Likes to sit on the walls and talk to his friends and people-watch— maybe dance a little bit at the end of the party when a song he likes is on and he's a little unsteady, just the barest bit inebriated. But. If you catch this man on a good night— or, if you ask the people who have to take care of him afterwards, a Fucking Bad Night?— prepare to be terrorized. Because Jaemin? Jaemin with a few shots in him? Drunk Na Jaemin? Drunk Jaemin becomes an agent of chaos.

Not only does he basically start speaking in tongues— so, while he’s doing his bullshit, he’s also completely incoherent— he's a runner. He's one of those. The phrase 'Has anyone seen Jaemin recently?' will strike fear into your bones if you're one of the people entrusted with keeping him alive that night. One moment he's grinding on some person on the dance floor, looking like sex personified, shirt half off and having the time of his life. You take your eyes off of him for one second and then he's trying to climb from the balcony onto the roof because Chenle dared him he couldn't make it into the neighbors backyard pool from there. Or, you find him half a block down the street, sobbing all of a sudden because trying to type the directions to the nearest 7-11 in his phone and, because he's drunkenly only typing 'sexy elev near close' into his notes app, he can't figure out where to go. It's your job to shepherd him back into the house and wipe his tears, maybe try to cheer him up by giving him a capri sun or something, but guess what? In ten minutes he'll be back on the dance floor swinging from the light fixtures. Na Jaemin is a mixed bag. (And the highlight of it all? He never remembers any of it the next morning.)

zhong chenle; buzzed.

Do I even need to explain this? Look at him. Chenle, at his youthful 20, is a wine aunt. He is a Wine. Aunt. The type that can down half a bottle of 400 year old wine out of plastic chucky cheese cup and still fuck you up in a game of horse on the basketball court afterwards. Instead of only getting insanely intoxicated once in a blue moon, LeLe is perpetually at about a shot and a half levels of intoxication. Just enough to make everything feel a little fun around his six, comparably less alcoholic friends. He can't stand the taste of beer, or, god forbid, convenience store liquor, and exclusively drinks special shit you can only buy if you know somebody who knows somebody: but he shares! That's the great thing about drinking with Chenle. He shares all of his weird old alcohol. (Though, it's fair to bring up that it might only be because he loves seeing his friends get so severely intoxicated that they trip and fall and crash into things and do stupid shit. It's most likely that, knowing him, but you'll give him the benefit of the doubt). Another thing is that Chenle can outdrink every single one of the Dreamies. I will bet money on this. (Sagittarius vibes XXX)

The only person who can come close is Jeno, and everyone always thinks 'this time will be it!! when Chenle gets usurped!!' because Jeno is incredibly good at not physically appearing drunk... but then after like the 8th shot of LeLe's magically tasteless, 80% ABV, neon green poison wine, Jeno will lay down for a little break and then just not get back up again until the next day. Hence, Chenle, who is rolling his eyes and pouring his own ninth shot and opening up TurboTax to log his last months spending, is the uncontended winner. As always.

park jisung; wasted. Definitely drunk. But like... in the I’m-still-kinda-new-to-this way, where he isn't aware of his limits yet and keeps accepting the drinks being pushed into his hands because he doesn't know any better, and ends up Fucked Up twenty minutes into the function because his bastard friends keep refilling his cup and he can't say no. The type who's whole face turns pink after the first shot because he's trying to look cool and not gag even though he's about one wrong swallow from throwing up entirely.

Jisung will get fascinated by the most mundane of things when he’s inebriated; how the LED lights at the party switch from color to color, how soupy his limbs feel when he moves, how far away and simultaneously close up and wobbly everything looks when he looks at it for too long. He has to remind himself to stop staring at everything, at the floor, and the drink in his hands, at you when you’re talking to him; because everything is just so weird, but… nice weird, and he's not used to it yet. (He will probably never be, TBH). Probably another one like Donghyuck, who hates being left alone, but instead of demanding his person of interest stay with him— he'll simply just get up and follow them around. You're going into the kitchen? Cool, Jisung will come too! Someone is calling you on the phone, so you have to step out for a second? He'll keep you company, doing nothing but staring up in awe at the stars the entire time, and he'll get so into it that you're the one who has to drag him back inside afterwards. Drunk Park Jisung and Freshly Born Puppy are interchangeable phrases; All wobbly limbs and sudden revelations about life and absolute no control over their inside voice. Jisung doesn’t drink often, and surely not for fun because that shit tastes nasty to him still, but when he does give into his friends ribbing and teasing? It’s always the cutest show in the world for anyone lucky enough to see it.

(a/n: first offical post! letz goooo!! more is to come :-D)

[colorsunimaginable]

the spare // chapter forty-two // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary:  While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 3.5k warnings for this chapter: assholery?

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Notes: damn they got my money 😂😂😂

Chapter Forty-Two:

Nothing particularly grand or exciting happens when we leave. He didn’t bother taking us back upstairs where we’d have to say our goodbyes. He’d just taken my arm at the bottom of the stairs and blew through one of the kitchen exits. If there’d been an incantation to release the alarm spell, I didn’t hear it. Which is a shame because it’d be real handy next time we’re here.

The hour is late and I’m grateful that when we get back to the cottage, Caelan is waiting in his fluffy white cat form at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hi, sweetheart,” I coo and scoop him up in my arms. Still holding him, I kick off my flats by the heel. Thomus doesn’t bother removing his velvet oxfords, but stands by the door, looking at me with his eyes narrowed and thin lips pursed.

“What?” I ask, because it looks like he’s got something to say. When he doesn’t respond, I sigh heavily and roll my eyes. I take Caelan upstairs with me and close my bedroom door.

I set him down on the bed. “Shh,” I whisper. “Let me put on a movie before you say anything. It should drown our talking out.”

I dig through the bin of movies and pull out Disney’sAladdin. Turning the volume up with the remote, I go to close the bathroom door as well. When I turn around, Caelan is human again, perched on a corner of the bed.

“We should still whisper through, just in case,” I say, joining him. “How’s George?”

Caelan shrugs. “Still passed out. How was ah… wherever it was ye went?”

“Cliveden. Jacob Astor’s house. He’s an American whose trying to please the Death Eaters and by connection, Voldemort.”

He scoffs. “I was waiting for the Americans to get involved.”

My eyes go to the small TV and I wonder how much I should tell him about what I learned tonight. I have no idea if Will and Kyle are actual allies or if it’s a ruse for their own motives. I want to trust Kyle because it’ll give me more purpose, but he hasn’t proved that what he says is true.

“Have you heard anything from the International Confederation of Wizards?” I ask.

He looks at me with a curious tilt to his head. “What do you mean?”

“Like have they made public their thoughts about this whole thing?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll admit, I haven’t been reading many newspapers lately. Haven’t the time.”

I shrug. “It’s alright.”

I think I’m going to tell him about the Death Eaters intentions for international sex-trafficking, but I’m going to wait until George is awake. It’s not a conversation I want to have twice. His attention has gone to the TV while I’m lost in thought. I watch a few minutes with him before breaking the silence.

“So you guys were helping families escape?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking back to me. “Been that way for a while now. Helping scared families get to France or Ireland – anywhere really.”

“So is Voldemort isn’t trying to take over other countries? There are safe places?”

“Not quite,” he frowns. “He definitely has his forces taking down governments. Last I’d heard from Angelina Italy had fallen and Switzerland wasn’t that far behind.”

“Angelina… Johnson?” I ask. “Wasn’t she a Lot?”

He nods. “Aye, until George rescued her.”

“How did they get around the tattoos?”

His eyes drop to my left arm where it’s propping me up. “I doona think yer gonna like the answer to that.”

I just sigh. So it’s as I’d feared. Damn.

“She had to lose it,” I supply.

“Aye,” he says. “Really tore George up to do it. But if ye ask me, I think she looks like a badass.”

I laugh once, my eyes on the TV again. “I can only imagine.”

Banging on the bedroom door startles us both.

“Turn that shit down,” Thomus barks from the other side. I fumble for the remote and turn the volume down. When I glance at him, Caelan had quickly phased back to his cat. I wait to hear more from Thomus, but instead of his voice, I just hear his bedroom door close. I give Caelan a shrug and reach out to stroke his back.

“Should probably try to sleep anyway.” I shove myself into my nest of blankets and pillows, settling down to fall asleep watching the movie. I’m turned on my side and Caelan jumps up onto my hip. He’s purring, his eyes on the TV, too.

~*~

Luckily Thomus is gone in the morning and I waste no time hiking myself up to the attic to check on George. It’s almost been 24 hours. Caelan had beat me there and is helping George to a sitting position by the time I’ve clambered up.

George narrows his eyes at me and gives Caelan a confused look. “Where did you say we were?”

“Uh, I didn’t,” Caelan replies, side-eyeing me.

George looks at him expectantly, but when Caelan doesn’t respond, his eyes go to me, dropping to my arm. I’d changed out of the dress from last night, so my t-shirt doesn’t hide the tattoo. I move my arm to hide the name on it, but apparently I’m too slow because his eyes widen.

“Don’t freak out,” I say, a sheepish smile on my face. “You’re completely safe here.”

“Why would you bring me here?” George hisses towards Caelan.

Caelan sighs. “This place was close and I knew t’was safe. Ye were in bad shape, mate. Still are.”

“How much pain are you in?” I ask. “I can give you more of that pain potion, but less so you don’t pass out again.”

George’s long limbs shift under the blanket draped over him. He can’t hide his pained expression. “A bit,” he admits.

I slide closer and hold out a full vial I’d brought with me. “I’d recommend taking it in quarter doses. We only gave you the full dose so you’d be knocked out for the roughest part of your healing.”

He nods and swallows the dose. “Right.”

“I checked him before ye got up here,” Caelan says. “His bones have mostly grown back, but the flesh still has some work. I need to go out and see if I can find some more Essence of Dittany.”

“Let me check to see if we have any,” I pipe in, already moving towards the hole in the floor. I pause with my feet dangling. “You guys want any food? There’s still stew left.”

“Absolutely,” chimes Caelan immediately. I get a hesitant “sure” from George.

The only place in the cottage I’d think to look for Essence of Dittany is Thomus’ room. If I can get away with sneaking in and out, then I’m going to consider myself lucky.

His door is slightly ajar and briefly squeaks when I push in. His bed is hastily made, wardrobe open, clothes strewn about inside. As per usual, there’s nothing I can see that’s of any interest. He doesn’t keep anything of sentimental value here like pictures or favorite books.The Seven and a Quarter Deaths of Professor Aliceis the only exception, still tucked one of his nightstands.

When I don’t see what I’m looking for upon my first scan of the room, I drop to my knees and look under the bed. I easily find his wooden medical box from he healed my arm next to the crate of alcohol. The bottles inside clink as I slide it out in front of me. Thankfully, the man has the vials properly labeled, and I’m bolting out with the Essence of Dittany before the scent of his room starts to get to my head.

I return to the attic with two bowls of steaming stew. I levitate them up so I don’t have to juggle as I climb through the ceiling. George looks at me with surprise as the bowl floats into his open hands.

Caelan accepts his bowl eagerly. He really enjoyed it yesterday, so it’s no surprise he doesn’t wait long before shoveling it in. He catches George’s expression.

“She thinks she’s becomin’ immune to the suppression potion,” he says, his mouthful shoved into his cheek so he can talk.

“That’s… convenient.” George hasn’t touched his spoon yet, but reluctantly does when Calean reminds him Essence of Dittany needs nutrition to work properly.

I sit on the floor behind the wall of boxes and bins designed to be a hiding space. Quietly, I wait for them to get through half their food before I start asking questions.

“So,” I start, my voice soft, “what happened, exactly, at Dover? With the raid? I never found out.”

Caelan puts his spoon down, his expression sad as he looks at me. George just stares into his bowl.

Caelan clears his throat. “We’d started moving people out. Slowly, in small groups. We were waiting for the que for the last group, but that’s when they began their raid. We all fought, but they chased us to Dover. The beach. We had boats waiting to take us past the Anti-Apparition line.”

I tried to connect their sullen faces with anything that he’d just said. It sounded like it went well to me. “So you all got out? That’s good, right?”

“My brother’s dead,” George mutters, glowering at me now. I shift, uncomfortable with his ire seemingly directed at me. My eyebrows come together and I know my lip curls in sympathy.

“Your twin?” I whisper.

He snorts. “Yeah, he’s dead, too, but no. Fred died at Hogwarts and Charlie was killed on the beach at Dover.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say and I mean it.

“Right,” he mutters again, his eyes dropping back to his bowl.

“I saw Ron a few days ago,” I say, choosing to leave out the part where I saw him getting beat up. “And as far as I know Ginny’s alive.”

My chest twists with the memory of when I last saw her, an unsettling feeling in my gut knowing she’s probably not doing any better than that.

“She’s Voldemort’s favorite toy, last I heard,” George sneers, his lip curling in disgust.

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” I murmur.

The George in front of me is nothing like the brother that Ron talked about. He was chalk full of stories of all the shit they got up to growing up. Mainly that they were always good for a laugh. Easily believable when I’d visited their store myself while working down the street from it. I’d felt like a kid in a toy store.

Is there anyone coming out of this alive and unscathed?

George quickly downs the rest of the stew and uncaps the pain potion vial. He talks to Caelan. “Can you use the Essence of Dittany on me when I’m asleep? That shit stings.”

“Sure, mate,” Caelan says and we both watch as George takes half the vial and settles into his sleeping mat.

It’s not long before he’s out cold and I pull out the Essence of Dittany to give to Caelan. I turn my eyes away as he applies the potion to George’s splinched wounds.

“Did you know Charlie?” I ask. He’d seemed just as affected talking about Dover as George did.

“Em, I did actually,” he says, his back to me momentarily before he settles back to where he was. “I worked with him in Romania.”

“Didn’t he work with dragons?”

Caelan smiles. “Aye. We both did. It’s why the Snatchers were after me.”

I frown. “Oh.” It’s hard to imagine someone as lanky as Caelan would be able to handle dragons. For Charlie it made more sense, he’d been built like a football player. “Why were you up here, then? Wouldn’t it have been easier to avoid them down there?”

He shrugs. “They… came down there for me. Well, the Death Eaters came first.”

“What? Why?”

He smirks. “Believe it or not, but yer looking at the only Wizard who’s managed to control a dragon with the imperious curse.”

My eyes widen and my jaw drops. “You’re shitting me. How?”

“The big devils are a lot like cats,” he says simply and winks at me.

~*~

Caelan spends the next few hours getting drilled by me on how exactly he’d managed to use an Unforgivable on a dragon. It’s super interesting and all I can think about is how it’d make for a great article for theDaily Prophet.

After a while I excuse myself back downstairs for a bowl of the stew for myself, and to start on the dishes I’d left the day before. Then after that exhausting ordeal, I find myself in my room again, tucked into bed with another movie on. This time it’s9 to 5.

Half way through the movie, Caelan comes and joins me. He’s in his fluffy white cat form and he settle on my chest, purring once more. It’s honestly nice that he’s so comfortable with me. I love dogs, but I’ve always been a cat person.

I think at some point during the movie, Thomus comes back. I’d left my bedroom door open for Caelan and so when I hear Thomus thump his way up the stairs. I ignore him and focus on the movie, not willing to hide my giggles and laughter.

~*~

I wake with a start a few hours later, and when I realize I’d been dreaming, I nearly cry with relief. It had been a terrible dream. Kneeling in front of Thomus, naked, and his focus had been entirely on my body. I knew exactly what he saw, and his cruel, disgusted reaction confirmed everything I’d already known to be true. It made my chest ache with shame and I knew I was crying. So, waking up, realizing that that hadn’t actually happened, I feel the rush of pure relief.

I’d also managed to make myself a sweaty mess. Caelan had moved to the corner of the bed, so I don’t disturb his sleep when I crawl out to take a shower.

As nice as the hot shower is, it’s affects are completely ruined when as soon as I come out of the bathroom, wrapped in a skimpy towel, Thomus is banging on my door.

“Are you fucking alive in there?” he gripes from the other side.

“One fucking second, I was in the shower,” I snap back. I don’t have time to throw on clothes without the fear of him barging in on me. So I grab one of the quilts from the bed and wrap it around my shoulders, making sure I’m covered before dropping the towel. Plus, Caelan’s awake and his piercing blue eyes are watching the scene unfold.

Finally I yank open the door, finding Thomus shirtless, his pants unbuttoned like he’d been about to take them off. He’s got a muscular arm casually braced against the door frame. He doesn’t hold back a snicker when he takes in my appearance.

“What?” I demand, clinging to the door and to the blanket around my shoulders.

He brings his other arm up to grip the door frame and my eye follow the movement, traitorously glancing down over his beautifully naked torso. His snicker transitions to a smirk before he speaks.

“Might as well have worn nothing at all,” he says. “I’ve seen it all before, haven’t I?”

I take deep breaths to keep my reaction measured. My reply is calm. “And you’ll never see it again.”

His smirk vanishes and he leans harder into his grip, both hands now holding the door frame. It’s replaced by a scowl.

“Is it because they’re American?” he asks.

I blink. “What?”

“Hoffman and Goldman. Is that the basis of your attraction? Because you relate to them?”

My jaw drops and I give him an incredulous look. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “None of my business?”

“As long as they pay you for my time, does it really matter? Whether it’s Galleons or Sprinks, money is money.” My voice is cold and my wet hair dripping onto my neck makes me shiver.

His jaw clenches and he narrows his eyes at me. “It’s remarkable how you’ve chosen to spread your legs for anyone offering you attention.”

“So it’s my fault that after getting fucked – and not metaphorically for the first time in my life, I’m not supposed to want more?” I huff, irritated, but also hurt.

He bristles, but doesn’t say anything. I know I just took a nap, but fuck, this is making me tired.

“You needed alust potionto actually sleep with me,” I say, point blank. I swallow around the sudden tightness in my throat. “You don’t get to be jealous when I kiss other men.”

Thomus drops his hands from the frame and balls his fists, taking an advancing step toward me before stopping himself. His eyes bore angrily into mine.

“I don’t like sharing mytoyswith other men,” he growls.

“But you’re happy to spank me and humiliate me in front of them?” I throw back.

He sneers at me. “You can’t pretend you didn’t enjoy being put on display and shown your place.”

“Neither could you apparently,” I say with a tilt of my head. “Where was your lust potion then? Or did I justimaginethat your dick was hard?”

“Your wet cunt certainly wasn’t a part ofmyimagination,” he snaps, “when my hand left your arse red nor when your mouth had been slobbering all over my cock.”

I roll my eyes and groan. “God fucking forbid I get horny or have any sort of sexual desires. You think I want to feel this way for someone who hates me?”

His eyes are intense as the question hangs in the air in the sudden silence between us.

My grip tightens on the quilt where its clutched near my chest. “Like I said last night, I will go through whatever I have to in order to survive this fucking nightmare. You can call me a toy or a whore, I don’t care. It’s all an act, it’s all for show. You’d know what that’s like better than anyone.”

For an instant the anger leaves his face and his eyes widen until they’re almost round. But then he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before returning to his angry expression.

He pokes a finger at me. “If I find you kissing another man, I will not hesitate to chain you to a dog kennel in the backyard like the bitch in heat you are.”

My eyes involuntarily widen and I take deep breaths to control the hurt that wants to break out all over my face.

He either doesn’t see it or he’s choosing to ignore my expression as he drops his hand and digs through his pants pocket. He holds out a suppression potion, but I don’t take it, just stare at it.

“You forget that all of this is a privilege,” he says and our eyes meet again. “The music, the television, the books – the very bed you sleep on. All that’s required to maintain these privileges is obedience.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “You’re acting like I’m the one who chose this. I didn’taskto be here. You’re the one who bought me.”

“That fact is irrelevant.”

“Sure,” I bite out. He holds the vial out to me again and reluctantly I shift the quilt around until I can push my hand out without giving him a peep show. Unfortunately, without it being pulled taut, it falls around my shoulders.

“Merlin, it’s like you do this on purpose,” Thomus grumbles, pushing away the hand reaching for the vial. He steps forward, pulling out the stopper, and pushes his hand underneath my jaw. He tilts my head back and his thumb pulls at my lower lip.

I take the hint and open my mouth. My body’s reminding me that the only thing separating my naked form from his partially naked – warm – body from mine is a poorly held quilt. My chest rapidly rises and falls, both in desire for him and absolute terror of him seeing me naked again. Thomus grabbing under my jaw to tip the contents of the vial into my mouth both intimidates me and makes me wet.

When he releases me and steps back, I quickly shut the door. My hand is at my throat, and I press my hot forehead against the cool wood.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to get fucked by someone else. Maybe if I can find someone else who can make me feel this way then my betraying body won’t long for him as much as it does. Someone who can make me forget all this pain.

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[momolady]

Tiefling Boyfriend: Leary

He was a tiefling, she was a girl, she was also on a bad date.

Female Human x Male Monster Narrator (both cis)

When I took a job as a waiter, I was hoping to learn about the kitchen, because I wanted to be a chef. Instead, I learned that being a waiter was like working retail but with more steps. If I didn’t have bills, I would have quit a long time ago. Tips are usually good, but aside from those and free food the work is draining.

On my days off I’m usually holed up in my apartment, undressed, unwashed, and slouched on the sofa, or over the stove where I am practicing. I still want to be a chef, even after everything I’ve gone through. I love to cook, and maybe one day I can have my own little food truck or cafe, nothing grand like the place I work at. After working there, the idea of having a big restaurant has lost its appeal. Besides, the things I like to cook would be better in the small, outdoor kind of place anyway.

Whatever I cook, I usually leave for my roommate, or at least I think I still have a roommate. We work such opposite hours that I rarely ever see him. I like to pretend my apartment is haunted, and the ghost is eating the food and leaving me uplifting notes on the fridge. I miss having someone to talk to who isn’t part of the restaurant scene.

Tonight the restaurant is a little slow, so I’m not running around as much. I have a few tables, and I’m trying to pay as much attention to them as possible so the tips will make up for the lack of seats filled. One such table looks to be a first date. First dates are pretty easy to gauge, because one or both parties are usually nervous, one person often does all the talking, and there are long, awkward silences.

This date is one of the most one-sided I’ve ever seen. You look so nervous, like you’re trying to disarm a bomb. Your hair is done so nicely, your makeup is impeccable, and you’re wearing a really lovely dress. The guy you’re with has done nothing but talk all evening the flapping of his mouth diminishes his good looks. When I take your order, you’re getting ready to order the bisque, but he interjects and says something that will never fail to repulse me. “I think you should have the salad. Don’t you think that’s better for you?”

The look on your face is enough. You agree to the salad, but your look of disappointment doesn’t fade. If anything, it only gets worse as the date goes on. Every time I go to the table to check on you, your date is talking sideways out of his mouth about you. The needling comments annoy me, so I can’t imagine what they’re doing to you. “You really have a pretty face, you know? Your grandmother was so right about that. If you lost some weight, you’d be unstoppable.” That makes my blood curdle. I was pretty chubby in my youth, and the amount of times that was said to me made me want to remain chubby. It isn’t his right to comment on such things.

“I don’t have an issue with big girls. I think they’re great.” I don’t have an issue with my foot up his ass, but he might. Your smile at him is painful. You’re putting up with this so well, but you don’t need to!

“If you dyed your hair you wouldn’t look so frumpy.”

What the fuck? I’ve had enough. When I go to fill his wine glass, I knock it over ‘accidentally’. It’s not a skill I like to boast about, and I rarely ever have to use it, but sometimes you deal with a diner who is so vile they deserve a stained lap. The glass falls directly onto his chest, and he shouts and stands up, looking at me like I’m the most reprehensible thing on the planet. Maybe I am, but I still feel higher than him. “You stupid…” He scoffs and tries to wipe himself dry. “What the hell are you doing?”

“So sorry, sir! It was an accident. I’ll clean up here if you want to go to the bathroom.” I point towards the back. I don’t make it a point to lie often, but the situation called for it.

He slams down the napkin on the table. “I’ll see your manager when I get back.”

I make a face at his back, then quickly turn to you. “Would you like to run away?”

Your eyes widen and you pout slightly. “Excuse me?”

“Now is your chance to run,” I whisper. “There’s a line for the bathroom, so he’ll be busy for a while.”

Your expression shifts from surprise to fear. “He’s my ride, though.”

I don’t think I could stand thinking about him taking you home. “I’ll take you home,” I offer. Then I extend my hand. “I’m Leary.”

You take my hand, shaking gently. “I remember,” you say with a small smile. Then you introduce yourself. “Please, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m going to worry. You look miserable, and you have since you walked in. No offense if you like this guy…”

“I don’t,” you interject quickly. “My grandmother set us up. She likes him.”

“Then there is no reason to be polite,” I say with a smile. “I can get someone to cover for me, since it’s slow.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” you answer quietly. “It’ll be fine. I’ll go home and never have to call him again.”

I can’t help but frown. The way this guy has gone on tonight, leaving him alone with you makes me worry. “You look too nice to waste the evening on him. Just letting you know that.” I finish cleaning up the table. “Time is precious, so don’t let him squander it.”

Your cheeks become rosy and you smile shyly up at me. “Thank you.”

I smile warmly in return. “You deserve to hear it. Don’t thank me.”

You glance back towards the bathrooms. “Maybe you should get your manager, so he won’t be so upset when he comes back.”

My grin grows. “Not to worry. I’m the manager tonight.”

You bite down on your lip to keep from giggling. I wink at you. “I’ll be right back with your complimentary dessert.” I go back to the kitchen with the dirty dishes and the towels I used to mop up the wine and plate two desserts, rolling my eyes already at what your date will say. But I’m prepared, and if he dares to cause any more trouble, I have backup, because the owner is the chef as well as my friend.

“Here you are.” I lay down the plates on the table. The jerk hasn’t returned yet, but I can hear the bathroom door slam open as I place the decadent cheesecake before you.

“My favorite!” you say excitedly. I know a salad isn’t the most filling dinner, so I can tell you’re excited for something else

“It’s not much, but it’s the best I can…”

“No,” the jerk huffs as he storms up upon the table. “Take those away.”

I look at you, then back at him. “They’re complimentary, though.”

“She doesn’t need cheesecake,” he sniffs. “I want to see the manager.”

I nod. “That’s me.”

The guy looks flustered for the briefest of seconds, then starts to laugh. “I know this scam. I’ve seen the memes. Seriously, I want to talk to whoever’s in charge.”

“That’s me,” I say again. “And I’m giving you complimentary dessert.”

“She doesn’t need cheesecake,” he repeats.

“No one does, it’s dessert. It’s just nice.” I’m ready to throw hands with this boy. I bite my tongue to keep composure. “If you want something else, I’ll get you something else.”

“Don’t you have anything with fruit for her?”

I place a fork near her. “There’s more raspberries on the plate than cheesecake.”

Your date scoffs and rolls his eyes. “We don’t want your pity desserts.”

“I want it,” you say shyly.

He barely looks at you. He’s still glaring at me. “We’re leaving. I’m not spending another second here.” He tugs at your arm. “Let’s go.”

“Ow!” you yelp.

He lets go of your arm. “Then get up.”

I move beside you. “Then go.”

Your date stares at me like I’m crazy, then just scoffs and leaves without another word. I make sure he’s gone, then tend to you. “Are you okay?” I ask gently.

You’re rubbing your arm where he grabbed you. “Yeah. I already had a scratch there, so that’s why I yelled. I accidentally ran into a cactus this morning.” You look near tears, but you smile anyway.

I sigh with relief. “Eat your dessert, and take your time. I’ll bring you some coffee if you like.”

You nod. “Just a small one, though. Thank you.”

Someone who saw the whole event pays for your half of the dinner, which was so nice. And since he stormed out without paying, that meant we could refuse him service later. A small win. I brought you coffee and offered to call you a car to take you home.

“Thank you Leary. You’ve been so nice,” you say as you get up to leave. “Is there any way I can repay you?”

I would ask for a date, but I don’t think that’s what you need right now. “I just wanted to help. I don’t need any sort of thanks.”

Your smile is so sweet, and when you touch my hand to give it a squeeze I can still smell the raspberries on you. You leave, and I think that’s the end of it. Maybe I’ll see you again one day, and maybe I won’t. But the next evening, I’m going over the schedule at the bar when, out of the corner of my eye, I see someone walk in. “I’ll be with you in just a second,” I say.

“That’s okay. I just wanted to stop in and thank you again.” It’s you, carrying a potted plant that has a big blue ribbon tied around it, and you look very pleased with yourself.

“Oh, hey,” I say in amazement. “It’s you again. How did you rnight go?”

“He’s been texting me a lot, but I’ve just been ignoring him.” You set the potted plant on the bar. “I wanted to thank you properly, so I brought you this. It’s an aloe plant.”

“Oh, thank you,” I pull the aloe closer to me. “I’ve been wanting to get a plant for the apartment.”

Your cheeks turn bright red. “The leaves reminded me of the shape of your ears. But it’s also easy to take care of!”

It’s so cute I can’t stand it. “Thank you,” I say again, unable to think of anything else. “You didn’t need to do this.”

“I wanted to, though. You were so nice last night.” You press your lips together tightly. “If you have any questions about taking care of it, I put the card for the nursery on the side. I… I also wrote my number on the back, if texting is easier.”

My eyes widen. “Oh! Okay, sure!”

“You’re probably busy. I’ll let you get back to work.” You turn at the door to wave. “Have a good evening!”

I quickly take the card and see your number written along the back. I place it into my pocket for safekeeping, then leave the aloe in the breakroom with my things. I want the night to be over with, not just because I have the day off tomorrow, but so I can send you a message. During a break, I put your number into my phone and send a quick message. “Hey, this is Leary, the waiter. Thanks for the aloe again. Should I put it in sunlight when I get home?”

“That’d be best, but aloe is pretty easy to take care of.” Your reply is swift.

“Okay, good to know.” I answer just as fast. “Is that creep still messaging you?”

“I blocked him, so I don’t know.”

“If he tries to cause any problems, tell me and I’ll help you out.”

“I don’t think he will, but thank you.”

Over the next few days, we text back and forth pretty regularly. You work at a nursery, so you often send me pictures of plants you’re working with during the day. I send you updates about the aloe, and I tell you about my dream of being a chef. You tell me your dream of eventually expanding the nursery and starting a honeybee sanctuary.

This goes on and on until one night, I work up the courage to ask you out. “I’m off next Thursday. I was wondering if you’d like to do something. Maybe go see a movie? Hang out? I’d really like to see you.”

“That would be great! I’m off, too. The nursery is closed on Thursdays, so I’m free all day. I’d like to see you too, Leary.”

I leap up excitedly. “Okay! Where would you like to meet up?”

“I need to do some grocery shopping. Maybe we could meet up after that at Monday Cafe.”

“I need to get a few things, too. Why not just meet at the grocery store?”

Usually you reply so fast, but this time I see the ellipses bob along for a while. Your reply eventually pops up. “Okay. Let’s say at nine? They have that little coffee stand inside, so we can meet there.”

“Okay, perfect! Can’t wait.” I really can’t, and my tail is wagging up a storm.

I head out the next morning, having gotten up early to fret over how to do my hair and what to wear. I settle on a red flannel shirt and jeans, since it’s supposed to be a touch chilly. And unusually, I leave my hair down. I haven’t had it down in ages and had forgotten how long it is. I set out, hoping to get to the coffee stand early so I can buy your drink, but to my surprise I find you there already with two cups in hand.

“I just guessed what you’d like.” You offer me the warm cup.

“You didn’t have to do that!” I protest. “I was going to.”

Your smile is cute. “I still feel like I owe you from saving me from that horrible date. Not to mention I’ve really enjoyed talking to you, Leary.”

I love hearing you say my name. “I’ve enjoyed talking to you too. It’s been a nice change of pace for me.”

We get to shopping, and you ask me about my choice of recipes and ingredients. “I’m not the best cook,” you admit. “Most of the time I just throw rice and a veggie into the rice cooker.”

“I like comfort foods. Things that make you feel warm and cozy when you eat them.” I inspect some bell peppers before throwing them into a bag. “I’d be happy to show you sometime.”

“I’d like that.” You walk along beside me as I push the cart. “I’ve been trying to eat healthier lately.”

“That’s good!”

“But the other night really just…” You stop and frown, gazing off into the distance. “I felt like I’d been doing so well. I was eating better. I was walking more. I felt confident, and then…”

I scoff. “I know. That jerk opened his mouth.”

“I like salads,” you mutter. “But I was going out, and I wanted something more than that. It was a treat, I thought.”

“You don’t have to explain to me. That jerk had no right talking to you the way he did.” I smile at you. “I think you’re adorable, no matter what.”

Your cheeks redden and you look aside with a sweet smile. “You’re pretty cute yourself.”

My tail flicks behind me. “You’re going to make me turn purple!”

“I like your hair down, by the way,” you say softly. “It’s pretty.”

“I can let you play with it, if you want,” I tease.

You giggle and playfully shove me. “Maybe.” You stand closer to me as we shop, something that makes me feel warm and excited.

After we leave the store, I help you unload groceries at your house. I don’t have much, so I keep my things in your fridge until we go to see the movie. Or at least, that’s the plan. We end up lingering at your place, you show me all your plants, and we talk on your veranda for a long time. We sit close together, and as a chilly wind blows I put my arm around you to keep you warm. We go quiet, and there’s a nervousness I recognize from the restaurant. It’s an excited and eager one where both have everything to say, but no idea how to begin.

“You smell nice,” you say quietly.

“Thanks, I bathed.” I instantly hate myself. I look down to see you smiling shyly. I want to kiss you, but I don’t want to overstep my bounds. Our eyes meet, and we’re both suddenly shy and so awkward. I lean in, and you close your eyes. Your lips are so warm, so soft, and your hand presses against my chest before slowly moving up to touch my face.

“Wow,” you breathe as we pull apart. “Your hair is really, really soft.”

I chuckle and kiss your cheek. “I buy expensive conditioner.”

You giggle and reach for another kiss, which I happily deliver. “I think we missed the movie,” you pant.

“That’s okay. There will be more. I like it here much better anyways.”

You snuggle back against my chest. “Me too.”

From then on I try to schedule every Thursday off so I can spend it with you. It doesn’t always work, but we often find ourselves at each other’s places. You stay up late some evenings so we can spend a couple of hours together, and I wake up early on some days so we can have breakfast before you go to work. It’s nice, having these moments together, even if they are too brief. We even trade keys, which is an exciting development for me.

One morning, I wake up as you crawl into bed with me. You're chilled from the outside, but you feel so good snuggled up beside me. “Good morning,” you coo sweetly.

“Good morning indeed.” I wrap my arms around you and kiss the top of your head. “I should go put on some pants.” I offer.

“It’s okay. I like your cute panties,” you tease as you kiss my cheek.

I kiss you back. “I just want to remain a gentleman, and I feel I can’t do that when you do see my panties.”

You shyly hide your face against my neck and hair. “What if I showed you mine?”

How dare you say something so provocative in such a sweet, adorable way? You want to kill me, don’t you? I breathe to calm myself. “Th-that’s all up to you, babe. If you want to, go ahead. If you don’t, I’m happy anyway.”

You sit up, pulling off your leggings then slowly, shyly, removing your dress. Your body is soft and plump, and your underwear matches. You must have been planning this! My heart stops beating, and my blood all rushes to my face. The soft seafoam green you’re wearing is my favorite color. You know this, too. Your skin is so soft against mine as you lie down beside me, nervous but proud of yourself. I touch you, running my long fingers over your skin. I remember how to breathe, and I take a deep one to center myself.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur. “You look amazing.”

“Not really. The bra sort of pinches.” You keep your face hidden, but your leg hooks around mine. Your skin is silky, and you’ve shaved and buttered up with coconut lotion.

“Would you rather I pinch?” I ask teasingly.

You giggle and finally peer up at me. “I wanted to spend a nice morning with you. But I know you’re working this evening, so…” Your thoughts trail off before you clear your throat to bring yourself back to them. “I know you need to sleep.”

I lie you down on your back and move on top of you. I kiss you and touch you, running my hands down your body. “I want you more.”

You gulp and turn your head to the side, allowing me access to the skin of your neck and shoulder. I lick there, and you whimper softly. I gently bite at your earlobe and a soft breath escapes your lips. “Look at me.” My lips brush against your ear. “Let me see your face.”

You move slowly, but your eyes focus on me. You blink rapidly for a moment, then place your hands upon my body. “Your skin is so beautiful. You’re like a sapphire.”

My hair falls off my back and cascades down. Your fingers tangle in it for a moment, gently tugging to pull me down for a kiss. It becomes hot and heavy, and I lose my breath a few times when your tongue touches mine. I want to make you feel the way I did. I want to make you feel divine. I look into your eyes and smooth your hair from your face. “I have a rather naughty idea,” I chuckle. “But I need your permission.”

You swallow hard and nod. “What is it?”

I press my lips to your ear again. “I want to eat you until you come.”

Your hands squeeze tight around my arms. “You don’t have to do that!”

I kiss your cheek and neck. “I want to though.”

You shiver and move your arms around me. Your fingers tickle at the back of my neck as you consider my offer. “I’ve never had that done to me before.”

I kiss you softly. “If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

You nod, then watch me as I slip down and carefully remove your panties, letting them dangle off one of your ankles. I smooth my hands up your legs, kneading them before I gently spread your thighs. You shiver, then relax. I kiss your thighs, your belly before I touch you directly. I rub your vulva with my long fingers, feeling a bit of wetness seep out to greet me. I press my tongue between the folds and your breath shudders. I look up at you, seeing your embarrassed but pleasured face looking down at me. You reach down, stroking my hair away from my face so you can see me better. I spread you open further with my fingers, finding your clit eager to be touched. My tongue presses against it, and your body jerks suddenly.

“Sorry,” you mewl. “It felt really strong.”

I chuckle and kiss it. “I’ll be gentle, then.” I lap up your slit, moving my tongue inside you before circling around your clit again. You moan and sigh, showing that what I’ve been doing is well-received. I kiss your clit again, tapping it gently with my tongue before I fasten my lips around it. You yelp and throw your head back, cupping one hand around your mouth while the other tugs at one of my horns. You don’t struggle or try to get away, so I keep going, applying suction.

“Leary! Leary!” you cry out.

I add my fingers, slipping two inside you, and feel your inner walls tremble and pulse around me. Your hips shake and your voice becomes a deep moan. I continue, suckling and moving my fingers. I moan against you, feeling your passion dripping around my knuckles. Your thighs tighten around me, trapping me and shaking me before you push my head back in desperation. “Stop! Stop!” you cry, ears in your eyes. Your body trembles, curling into a fetal position. You hiccup and whimper as I withdraw, licking your fluids from my lips and chin.

“Are you okay?” I gently ask. I brush your hair aside and kiss your shoulder.

“I’m still…” You lose your breath. “That was…”

I lie against your back, holding you until you uncurl. I stroke my hand down your leg, snuggling and kissing you, then reach between your thighs and cup your sensitive mound in my palm. You moan softly, biting your lip as I knead. “I’ve never come like that,” you sigh.

“I’m glad you did.” I kiss your shoulder. “I wanted you to.”

You roll over and kiss me. “What about you?”

“I’m plenty pleased right now,” I purr. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Could I, though?” you ask with a soft pout.

I smirk at you, enjoying the puppy eyes you’re giving me. “Not right now. Just enjoy yourself.”

You snuggle up against me. “I owe you big time,” you giggle.

“This isn’t about owing me. I don’t want you to feel that way. I did that because I wanted to make you feel good. It made me just as happy as you.”

You kiss me. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

I’m positively beaming the rest of the day, and nothing can knock me off my high horse. I’m tired when I get home, but all I can think about is how amazingly cute you were in the morning. I can still remember how you tasted and felt. But as I walk into my bedroom to change, I am greeted by candles and soft music. You’re sitting on my bed waiting for me, and when our eyes lock you drop the robe around you.

“Welcome home, Leary.”

“Oh, wow,” I breathe. I drop my bag on the ground and just look at you. “Oh, wow!”

You giggle and stand, coming over to me. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day. I hope you don’t mind me here. I know you must be tired, but…”

I kiss you hungrily, and we fall onto the bed. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” I say between kisses. My clothes become disheveled, and your hands find bare skin. My belt hits the ground with a thud, and my tail waves behind me, letting you know just how excited I really am.

Your lips and mouth are so warm, and your hands feel so soft against my shaft. My mind is buzzing, excited and elated. Once I’m hard, I can barely stand it. I put on the condom, though I rush and fumble with my excitement. I move between your thighs again, feeling how soft you are with the most sensitive part of me.

“I want you, Leary,” you mewl, your fingers in my hair.

“I want you, too.” I kiss you as I enter you, plunging deep inside as you cling to me. I don’t know how I’ll make it. I want to succumb to your charm and wiles now. But somehow I find the stamina to make the night last.

The morning feels light and cool. My legs and hips are sore, but your warm body cures that. I kiss your hair and get up to make coffee, standing in the kitchen naked with a big smile on my face. Then my roommate comes out of his room, we lock eyes, and my bliss is gone for.

“Morning, Leary,” he says and strolls by. “Your girlfriend seems nice.”

“Thanks, Yuri,” I quickly use a placemat to cover myself. “Good to see you!”

He smirks. “Good to see you, buddy.” He grabs the packed food from the fridge. “Hope to see you again.” He strides out the door, and I feel miserable. I quickly take the coffee back to the bedroom, feeling better once I have you again.

“Good morning,” you yawn.

“Sleep well?” I place the warm coffee in your hands.

“Amazingly so,” you sigh. You give me a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. This is nice.”

I smile, watching you as you sip your coffee. “I love you.” The words slip out so naturally it’s almost scary.

You look at me, almost terrified, but then you grin and tears well up. “I love you, too.” Even if my roommate caught me naked, this is still the best day of my life.

[slightlymore]

oh no, mr suh, please don't spank me

johnny x fem reader

cameo: taeyong

genre: !!smut!!, roommates au, fake enemies to lovers, a little tiny fluffy angst bc it's my brand apparently

warnings: a lot of mutual teasing, finger sucking, sexting, solo f and m, spanking, marking, dry humping, hand job, fingering, slight cum play, not protected, overstimulation f and m, multiple orgasms, penetration, manhandling, oral m and f, tiny degradation (sparse use of ‘little slut’), rough

words: 7K

it’s finally here!! this one is very juicy haha good luck I guess :) keep your panties dry challenge

taglist: @comically-sleep-deprived​ @strawberrymilkandcigarettes​ @theworld-accordingtocasey​ @kibumingi​

_____

"Johnny, get lost." 

You raised your eyes to meet Johnny's peaceful face in the middle of the corridor, one of them still twitching for waking up so early. 

He smirked and didn't move. 

You made a step on the right. 

He did the same. 

"John," you made a step on the left. 

His body kept blocking your way. 

"Why? Are you busy?" His voice was deep and thick like honey and in other circumstances you would have wanted to listen to it forever. But that morning you woke up without a single ounce of patience. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Yes, unlike you." 

"I'm also busy."

"Oh yeah? Doing what?" 

"Getting between your legs."

In spite of everything, you couldn't help but snort once. 

He has been playing that game for weeks now. A little touch here, a little compliment there, but it was the first time to see him this pushy. 

"I told you that I don't want to sleep with my roommates," you walked around him, teasingly hitting his shoulder with yours. 

You weren't surprised to feel his fingers wrap your arm and turn you around. 

"You don't have to sleep with me. I can sleep well on my own. I need you awake."

Johnny let his palm dance on your skin until it got to your throat, his thumb rising slowly and caressing your lips. You gulped and looked down at his hand before locking eyes with him again. 

"You know what I mean," your breath and moving mouth tickled his finger and the twinkle in the man's eyes amused you. You were about to add something else but decided to do something instead - giving him new ideas to continue jerking off to later, since his dick will still be dry for a long time. 

But when you softly pulled his thumb into your mouth, you didn't expect to be the first to get that excited. 

Johnny let out the ghost of a sigh, staring at the way your pursed lips dragged around his skin, the softness of your tongue licking the tip after giving it a good suck. 

"Hm. Knew you were a little slut." 

You chuckled and raised your hands to press them on his chest and push him away before turning around with the intent of leaving him hot and bothered. 

But he was quicker. In a second your wrists were blocked by his strong fingers and his head was shaking. 

"No touching."

You narrowed your eyes amused. 

"Oh yeah? And what should I do for you to let me touch you?" 

His fingers intertwined with yours and if he didn't have that lustful expression on, the gesture would have been almost sweet. 

"Beg?" 

You opened your mouth in a slightly surprised o. 

"Me? Beg? I don't beg." 

Johnny let go of your hands with a smirk and ghosted your chest until getting to the hem of the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed. 

"Stop me," he whispered but all of a sudden you couldn't concentrate on forming words and frankly, you realized you didn’t want to either. 

So he knelt in front of you and slipped his fingers underneath the fabric, revealing your thighs and underwear, pushing it up until exposing your stomach. His breath tickled your skin first then you felt his lips, and when he placed the first kiss you got goosebumps all over your body. Johnny chuckled slowly and palmed your legs as if getting rid of the bumps but it only added to the heightening sensation his mouth was building up. And when he took out the tongue, circling your belly button, you breathed in deeply and grabbed his hair. He liked it since a pleasant grunt formed on his lips, which were going down until meeting the cotton of the underwear, then on one side, tackling your hip with slow kisses. 

Right when you were about to close your eyes and moan, you suddenly couldn't feel Johnny's lips on you anymore. You stared down just to see his annoying smirk, his locks still in your hand and his eyebrow raised upon seeing the little wet patch formed on your panties. 

He got up with a swift movement as if he had finished with all of his to-do list for the day and smiled. 

"I'll go make breakfast," he announced and walked around you whistling.

_____

Said breakfast was being consumed in silence. 

You had to change your underwear because the situation between your legs got too much out of control and when you came back Johnny already made coffee and pancakes. With little glances at his face you wondered how come he was that calm and, the most important thing, how come there was no tent in his gray sweatpants. 

Did he really think he could start a war and win? You scoffed while angrily munching on the last pieces of pancakes. 

"You okay?" he licked his lips after finishing his coffee. 

"Of course," you replied dryly, standing up and grabbing your plate directed towards the kitchen like a tornado. 

"Your vibes are kinda dark though?" he raised his voice for you to be able to hear over the clanging of dishes. 

"Mind your own business," you came back, the violent shift of air as you passed near him almost making his hair swoosh. 

_____

Tight clothes? No, more. Lingerie? Uh uh, more. Naked? Maybe too much. Towel? Fuck yeah, towel. 

Lips juicy, eyes glowing, and the plan was rolling as you stood inside the bathroom, grinning at yourself in the mirror, hands virtually rubbing against each other while physically they were wrapping your damp skin with the towel. 

Hidden behind a corner like a predator about to attack its prey, you waited to hear Johnny's steps coming towards the bedrooms. A little noise, calm and deep, arrived to your ears first. One step forward and the collusion was perfect. 

"Oh, sorry!" you bumped into him, the fabric shifting on your breasts, your fingers prudishly trying to cover yourself and - oops - failing. With hands pressed on your chest, the swell of it was even more visible now, the last drops of water shining on the skin and falling slowly inside the cleavage. 

Johnny remained silent, not even a tiny ‘sorry’ escaping his lips, his eyes completely trained on your body. Then, when you were already tasting the victory on your tongue, he suddenly looked behind you as if not wanting to look anymore. 

You shifted your weight from one foot to another, waiting for a more grand reaction but Johnny kept on a composed face. 

After a few seconds of silence, you were about to leave, lower lip between your teeth as your plan didn't make him go rogue. 

But then he whispered something under his breath and when you least expected it, he pushed you against the wall. The air got knocked out of your lungs making you breathless.  "You like dangerous games?" 

His tone was delicious, lips so close to yours, and you absolutely wanted to drink it all in. And he was right. You did like dangerous games and you also liked to win. 

"Yeah. And revenge as well." You finally smiled as one of your fingers slowly dragged on his chest, smoothing the creases of his white t-shirt. "Am I making you feel some type of way, John?" 

The man scoffed, staring you down. "Not really." 

"You can't even look at me in the eyes though.”

"Eyes? Something else requires my attention now, baby girl." 

The instant delicious burst of pleasure of his hands cupping your now nude breasts and his thumbs circling your hard nipples made your knees buckle. The towel, slowly falling until stopping around your waist, was dangerously close to getting to your feet if Johnny's hips weren't pressed against yours. 

One step back and you'd be naked in front of him and that wasn't your plan at all. 

No, no, wait. You were supposed to make him feel things, not the contrary. 

Then why were you letting him touch you like that? 

"Are you sure you're doing this for me and not for yourself?" Johnny smiled at your light panting and twitching fingers, pressed on his arms. 

"Enough," you whined, mind already blurry, so close to beg him to take you like that against that same wall. 

Johnny stopped and took a step back, his hands quickly going to your hips preventing the towel from falling any further. 

"I don't have to say it since it's obvious. But I've won. Again." 

You pulled the white fluffy fabric from his fingers with a huff and stormed into your room, the echo of Johnny's chuckle ringing in the whole corridor. 

_____

Disastrous. 

You couldn't believe that you got that hot and bothered when Johnny should have been the one salivating and losing his mind inside his room. 

Throwing away the towel you looked around for your clothes when a buzz from the bed made your head turn. 

"Are you touching yourself?" read Johnny's text. You snorted. Unbelievable. 

You weren't going to touch yourself. No, sir. You already lost a second time. You weren't about to give Johnny that satisfaction as well. 

From You: and if I were?

From Johnny: thinking about me?

From You: you wish.

You laid down, face illuminated from the phone and fingers hovering over the screen, somewhat invested in the conversation. But just a little. 

From Johnny: come on. do it.

You rolled your eyes amused and changed his display name. 

From You: you first 

From Evil dick: hm, I love winning though.

From You: you talk a lot for someone that's fucking his fist right now :)

From Evil dick: is this what you're imagining?

From You: yeah 

Johnny read the text and didn't reply anymore. You could not prove that he was taking care of his stiffy but the thought of him doing so made you feel triumphant. Perhaps it wasn't a full win but you could give yourself half a point. Only half. 

Because when you put your phone down, you couldn't stop your hand from sliding between your legs either. 

_____

You needed at least one win. 

Just once, only once, you wanted to see Johnny's honey eyes tremble under your touch. 

And the corridor was your arena apparently since the next day another opportunity arose. Short and quick. 

You smiled at him exiting his room and he smiled back. His lips were about to part and probably ask if you enjoyed yourself the previous night but no sound came out of them as your fingertip gently caressed his chest. It was barely there, a slight touch going slowly down. 

His jaw muscles tightened when you reached his pants and he jolted when you pulled his belt towards you. 

"It was a little crooked," you feigned innocence, your knuckles definitely brushing something that made him inhale silently. 

"I'm making breakfast." You smiled and walked around him, leaving Johnny alone in the middle of the corridor just like he did the day before. 

_____ “That’s not a win.”

You threw your head back on the couch arm, looking at Johnny upside down, the popcorn kernel you were currently about to eat stopped against your lips. 

“That was a win,” you replied. 

The man put his hands on his hips. “You just touched my belt.” 

You chuckled. “Yeah. Apparently that’s enough for you to cum, baby boy.” 

Johnny’s cheeks rose in a tight smile as you licked the salt and butter from your fingers. The look in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed to you and you loved it. His gaze caressed your face and open lips, then your exposed throat and low cut t-shirt. You knew he loved that angle. Could you possibly get two wins on the same day? 

“Want some popcorn?” you asked, handing him one kernel. Johnny put his hands on the couch’s arm, bending his frame down and taking it with his teeth. You looked away nonchalantly as his lips touched your fingers, and you grabbed another kernel for yourself. 

But Johnny was quicker. 

One hand on your jaw, pushing your head back even more, he took it from between your lips in a spiderman kiss. 

You couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, mouth open and skin burning from where his lips touched it. 

When you locked eyes again, you noticed him munching with a little smile. Still hovering over you, a few strands of hair covering his eyes, he swallowed and whispered. 

“I win.” 

_____

“Oh, no, I’m not drinking.”

Taeyong looked at you with the cocktail glass in his hand as if you grew two heads. “Y/N not drinking?” 

“I can’t drink. I’m on duty.”

You were still sitting on the couch in a ball, eyebrows furrowed and concentrated eyes. 

Taeyong took a sip from his drink then shrugged and took a sip from the one he prepared for you too. 

“On duty for what?” he plopped near you making you wobble slightly to the side. 

“War.” 

“On Johnny?” Your head snapped towards his innocent eyes. “You know about it?” 

The boy chuckled. “Want me to give you a few tips?”

He smacked his lips and shifted his weight to be more comfortable, his lids dropping as if about to share some juicy secrets. 

You imitated his position and leaned in to hear better.

“Make him jealous with me.” You blinked in silence a few times then sighed, pushing Taeyong away. “Are you trying to get between my legs too, now?” 

The other continued chuckling. “It was worth the shot. You can try stuff like touching him randomly, then.” You huffed. “You think I’m a newbie?” 

Taeyong sipped from both of his drinks again. “Then what about making him believe he got you so you can attack when he feels powerful?” 

_____

"Oh, no. I have flour on my clothes."

The dough you were working was still sticky so you got a handful of flour that accidentally went on your bottoms right when Johnny made his appearance in the kitchen. 

He looked down and, indeed, noticed a light layer of dust covering your black leggings. 

“Could you please clean them up for me? These are my favourites,” you pouted at him.  

Johnny smiled and sighed, getting closer and slapping your butt once, then twice, then again, until all the flour was cleaned up. 

"There's no reason to be this aggressive, you know?” you bit your lower lip. 

"But you like it this way. Don't you?" 

Another spank and you mewled, the sound making Johnny hum in appreciation. 

“You’re all clean now.” He stepped back and presumably stared at your ass with the excuse of checking for some more flour. 

“I didn’t say you could stop,” you whispered and almost regretted - key word ‘almost’ - saying it as your flatmate approached you again, his sudden dark aura making your skin crawl. 

“You want me to continue?” his voice caressed your ear, his tone highly amused.  

You acted as if gathering the courage to confess that, yes, you wanted him to spank you but, oh no, you were so shy and he was so strong, you couldn’t do it like that and in public!!? oh no, you couldn’t take it. 

“N-no, it’s better if we stop here. I- I don’t think I can handle it. It will make me go crazy.”

Even if not seeing him in the face, you could almost physically sense Johnny’s puzzled aura. Laughing to yourself you wondered what kind of reaction he would come up with this time. 

He didn’t say anything for a few moments and when you were about to turn your head to check on him, you felt his chest on your back and he engulfed your body with his arms as he pressed his hands on the counter in front of you. 

“Okay,” he whispered into your ear. “I’m giving this one to you.” 

_____

From Evil Dick: I can hear your vibrator from the kitchen

From You: I’m not using any vibrator right now From You: maybe it’s taeyong lol 

From Evil Dick: lol From Evil Dick: it’s definitely coming from your room tho

From You: you’re imagining things you wish were true

From Evil Dick: I don’t imagine you getting off on vibrators From Evil Dick: I like to be included in my fantasies :)

You: typing You: deleting You: typing You: deleting

From You: fuck you

From Evil Dick: fuck me yourself From Evil Dick: 4-2 for me

Johnny smiled brightly when you barged into his room. 

He was laying down in the dark, with only the phone illuminating his face. 

“Are you already done?” he asked teasingly. 

You stopped at the feet of his bed with crossed arms. 

“I’m here to fuck,” you announced. 

Johnny remained with his mouth open as his brain processed the information then laughed. 

“I don’t think you will,” he sat up, resting his back on the bed frame. The movement lifted his t-shirt a little, exposing the waistband of his boxers above the sweatpants and his lower stomach skin. 

You didn’t add anything and got on your knees on the bed instead, slowly crawling towards him until getting between his legs. Then you sat on your heels and took away your shirt. 

Johnny followed your frame and his eyes grew wide seeing you naked underneath the falling fabric. You smiled and his loss of words and you imitated his position, sitting in front of him and opening your legs to drape over his. 

“Holy shit, Y/N,” he whispered, eyes trained to where you slowly dragged your fingers. 

Inhaling deeply you closed your eyes and threw your head back, gently drawing circles around your clit before pushing two fingers inside of you. 

“Shit,” Johnny repeated and you whined, the wet sound telling him how you felt. 

“I didn’t say I’m here to fuck you. You can’t touch me nor can you touch yourself. If you do, you lose,” you instructed breathless and Johnny dug his fingers in the mattress underneath him. 

You smiled and bit your lower lip, fully enjoying his expression, his eyes looking as if drinking you in and were making you go crazy. 

But then he smiled too and it threw you off. 

In a second his hands were on your thighs as he pulled you towards him from underneath your knees until reaching the hand between your legs. He grabbed your wrists and blocked them in an iron grip. 

“You can’t touch yourself either.” 

You were breathing heavily, naked and so close to Johnny that you could almost feel the warmth of his body on your skin. 

“What’s with that face, baby girl? You wanted to cum?” he cooed at you. 

You bit your lower lip and shook your head. 

Johnny pouted. “Hm, baby girl can’t even lie well. Are you sure you don’t want to feel my fingers inside of you?”

You closed your eyes. “I don’t.” 

The other pulled you towards him by the wrists again until being able to whisper on your lips. 

“What about my tongue?” 

“Fuck, John, plea-” you interrupted yourself. 

Johnny smirked. “What was that? Please?”

You shook your head again. “No.” 

“I definitely heard you say please just now.” 

Panting and on the edge you considered just not caring about anything and fuck that man on the spot. 

“Truce,” you whispered. Johnny tilted his head to the side. 

“It’s not over and no one wins or loses this time,” you explained. 

“That’s convenient for you,” he teased. 

You huffed and fully sat on his lap, rolling your hips once on his hard cock. 

“I think it’s convenient for you too,” you commented after Johnny’s trembling sigh. 

His eyes grew darker and his hands grabbed your ass, pressing you on himself even harder. Your arms wrapped his neck and you hid your face into the crook of it, trying to conceal your whimpers. 

The rough material of his sweatpants did wonders to your sensitive clit and you didn’t need a lot to start shaking in Johnny’s arms. Your hips stopped as you moaned, digging your fingers into his shoulders but his hands on your waist forced you to go on. The overstimulation felt delicious and you didn’t care what words you mumbled into his ear, jolting every time his cock rubbed on your raw clit again and again. A few deep grunts and Johnny’s erratic movements told you that he was close too. You kissed his jaw then the skin next to it, then the corner of his lips, breathing in the air he breathed out then moaning once as he took his cock out and pumped it in his hand, spurts of warm cum coating your lower stomach. You looked down at the way it dripped between your legs and felt dizzy from pleasure. Johnny read your mind and quickly collected the drops fallen on your clit, drawing circles around it quicker and quicker until he had you shaking for the second time, head fallen on his shoulder and teeth digging into his neck skin. 

You remained like that, breathless and fucked out until you finally could manage to raise your head again. “This never happened,” you whispered and Johnny nodded amused.

_____

You yelped as Johnny’s wide palm slapped your butt unannounced. "John! I'm near the stove!" 

"Good morning," he smiled sweetly as he retrieved two coffee mugs from the cupboard. 

"What if I burnt myself?" you accused him even if you both knew it was highly improbable. 

"I would have kissed the bruise until the pain disappeared," he placed the mugs down and walked around you, positioning himself behind you and trapping you with his arms. One hand turned the stove off and the other danced on your stomach pulling you against him. 

"When will you stop?" you tried to steady your voice since your ass rubbing on your roommate's crotch wasn't exactly calming. 

"When you'll beg," he whispered in your ear with his playful tone. "But I'm not trying to do anything now. You were so caught up into staring at me that you didn't notice the eggs and I'm here to save them." 

You put your tongue inside your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling. Johnny breathed in as if trying to add something else but the sound of a voice made you both jolt. 

"What are you guys doing so early in the morning?"

You almost forgot you had other roommates besides your sworn enemy poking at your back with his cock. 

"Teaching Y/N how to make good eggs."

Taeyong raised one eyebrow at the scene in front of himself. "Yeah. Adding a sausage does make your eggs taste better." 

"Oh my God," you mumbled, turning around and pushing a chuckling Johnny away. 

"Do you want to know my recipe?" Taeyong raised his voice since you were already leaving the kitchen. 

"Two sausages--," then a smack and a fit of laughter as Taeyong promptly apologized for even daring to assume he could add himself into the equation. 

“Come on. I thought you were in a good mood this morning by the looks of that bright red hickey.”

“Yes and I don’t share what’s mine.” You almost stumbled on our own feet in the corridor.  

"I'm out of town this weekend, by the way. If you want to go all out…" was the last thing you heard and the one giving you the best idea for your new plan. 

_____

It was almost two in the morning and Johnny was nowhere to be seen. 

You rolled over on the bed with a huff then kicked the blanket staring at the lingerie you were wearing with sudden disgust. 

It was the weekend and the house was empty - the perfect occasion for you to play with Johnny. And where was he? Probably fucking somebody else. 

You were sick with anger. 

Getting out of the bed - his bed where you waited for him - you stripped out of the sexy lace and grabbed the first t-shirt you found. It was one of his and even though it was clean, it still smelled like Johnny. 

You got back under the covers and crossed your arms on your chest, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. 

It wasn’t jealousy. You didn’t care if Johnny fucked other people. It’s not like you even fucked properly in the first place. You were just irritated that your plan didn’t work as you wanted it to. 

With an argh you turned on your side and hugged the other pillow, Johnny’s scent engulfing you all again. 

God, he made you so mad. 

_____

The first thing you realized as you woke up was the fact that your room didn’t have a black accent wall. 

The second one was Johnny’s arms around you - one behind your head and the other one thrown around your waist. 

You were sleeping on your back, one hand placed on top of his and the other one on the veiny forearm. With one finger you followed one of them until reaching the bicep then you slowly turned your head to look at him in the face. 

He didn’t close the blinds when he came home last night so the sun was shining brightly behind him, making him look like an angel. 

You smiled for a moment, staring at his calm expression and listening to his regular breath before widening your eyes in horror and snapping out of your sweet thoughts. 

What was that? 

You didn’t care about John Suh and you definitely didn’t care about the way his caramel hair was draping on his forehead. 

“Mm,” his raspy voice accompanied his strong arms pulling you towards him as you tried to slip out of the bed. “Where are you going?” he mumbled, eyes still closed and very much half asleep. 

You sighed and relaxed on your back again without a word and when Johnny rolled you over to face him you didn’t resist it. 

“Did you sleep well?”  “Where have you been?” you spoke on top of him. 

The words, or maybe your tone, made Johnny’s eyes open in an instant. 

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were low on his chest instead. He raised one hand to cup your cheek with the intent to make you look at him but you flinched. 

“What’s going on?” he questioned. 

You sighed again and shook your head. “Nothing. I’ll make breakfast.”

As you tried to get out of the bed again, Johnny’s arms didn’t want to leave your body. “Y/N. Wait. Stay.” 

His hand got to your face a second time and this time you locked eyes with him. 

“I was out. Like most weekends,” he explained. 

You gulped and nodded. “Good.” 

“No, it’s not good. You don’t seem to like that.” 

You didn’t add anything, neither denying nor confirming it.

Johnny’s eyebrows met in the middle. “You’ve never had a problem with that.” 

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you finally managed to get out of bed and Johnny let you go this time. 

“I didn’t fuck anyone, if you’re wondering,” you heard him say as you walked the few steps towards the door. 

“I don’t care if you fuck people, Johnny.” 

“You do.”

Your feet stopped in place. “I don’t.” 

“You’ve just made the same expression you put on when you claim that you don’t want me to touch you and we both know that’s a lie.” His voice was calm but stern. “Just admit it.” 

You just resumed walking and exited the room. 

_____

It was weird and not something familiar to your gut, but every time you saw Johnny, you felt the urge to either kiss his lips, cry on the floor, punch his face or run away. 

The first was understandable, even if weird; the second one was absolutely weird and you had no idea what the fuck was going on with you; the third was also highly understandable. 

But it was the last one that you chose. 

So when Johnny entered the kitchen you got out. When he opened the door to his bedroom you closed yours. When he sat on the couch, you got up. 

Until he couldn’t take it anymore and barged into your room unannounced. 

“Hey! Knocking maybe?” 

You were on the bed, scrolling through your phone and looking absolutely impresentable. 

“Talk to me.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not in the mood to play right now, John.” 

He walked over and sat on your bed. 

“I don’t want to play. You’re avoiding me.” 

“Look, it was fun for a while, but I don’t feel like continuing the little game we had going on. Let’s go back to how it was before.” Y

ou hoped you sounded convincing to him because you didn’t sound convincing to your own ears. 

Your words did make Johnny put on a sour expression though and you pretended to not notice. 

“Okay,” he said after a moment and you retrieved your phone from the bed, expecting the conversation to be over. 

Yet, when he placed his palm on your thigh your hand stopped in mid-air. 

“What are you doing?” 

He looked down to where his finger slowly caressed your skin, creating little goosebumps all over it. Then Johnny looked up and whatever expression you had on, it was enough for him as he suddenly got up and left the room. 

_____

“Brr, this house is colder than the heart of my elementary crush after he refused to share his food with me.” 

Both you and Johnny ignored Taeyong’s words, busy rolling your peas into your own plates. 

“What happened while I was away?” 

“Nothing happened,” you mumbled. 

“Hm,” the boy commented, munching on his food. “Wait,” he stopped, struck by realization, “ you mean like - nothing - happened? This is why you’re both mad? You didn’t fuck?” 

You rolled your eyes and got up with the plate in your hands. 

“She’s mad because she doesn’t want to admit that she has feelings for me.” 

The bomb that Johnny threw made both Taeyong and you shake in your places.

“What?” you asked incredulously. “I don’t have feelings for you.” 

Johnny calmly put down his fork and looked up at you. 

“Well, I do.” 

You opened your mouth in a silent shock while Taeyong initially gasped then soon after shrugged, whispering under his breath. “I mean, it was kinda obvious in his case.”

“And I don’t like the fact that you think I have space in my mind for other people besides you,” he continued. “Because it’s not true.” 

“Woah,” Taeyong rested his back on the chair as if watching a soap opera. 

“Did you really have to do this in the living room at dinner time?” you asked him after a few seconds of opening and closing your mouth like a fish. 

“Oh?” Johnny raised his eyebrows. “You want to take this to the bedroom instead? Let’s go,” he got up suddenly. 

“Aw, guys, come on. You always hide the funniest stuff from me!” whined Taeyong seeing you leave. 

“You know what I mean!” you replied to Johnny but still followed his quickly moving frame inside his room. He closed the door behind him and crossed his arms on his chest as if waiting for you to talk. 

“What?” you imitated his position. 

“Say something?” 

“I don’t know what to say! What does one say after all of that?” you questioned. 

“Do something? I just said I am in love with-” 

In the end you did something and that something was wrapping his neck with your arms and kissing him deeply. 

Johnny remained still for a moment as if shocked before finally relaxing his arms and tightly pulling your body towards his. 

Your mind was empty and you had no idea what was going on but after a few seconds of tasting Johnny’s tongue you were already thrown on the bed. It creaked under Johnny’s force and you jolted at the way he dragged your pajama pants down. No sexy outfit and no lace lingerie to meet his eyes, yet they were full of such intensity and lust that you realized it didn’t matter at all. Hands in his hair, you raised your bust to connect your lips again. 

“I was so fucking mad you weren’t home that night. I thought I was about to go crazy,” you breathed out while Johnny was palming your torso, lifting up your t-shirt and cupping your breasts. 

“I know. Punish me then. Show me your anger,” he joked.  But his reply turned a switch into your body and you managed to push his chest away from you. He smiled at your reaction and rolled over on his back, letting you straddle his lap. 

“I’m going to tease you so much until you’ll be the one begging me to touch you.”  

Johnny caressed your thighs. “Hm. I don’t need any teasing. You’re breaking me with your mere presence. Please, please, touch me.” 

Your breath got stuck in your throat and you couldn’t see anymore. The grunts leaving Johnny’s throat as you bit into his neck were so hot that you wondered what stopped you from letting yourself hear them before. And when you moved to his chest, then stomach, littering his skin with love bites his muscles twitched under your touch. 

You had no words to describe how it felt to have him inside your mouth. Heavy, hot and so present, you choked only on a third of it. 

“Shit,” you mumbled, taking it out and pumping it instead with your hand. 

Johnny loved it anyways and he looked at you with such intensity that you wondered if you could make him cum with only a few kitty licks. 

“It’s alright. You don’t have to,” he breathed out. 

“It’s alright. I know I have a monster cock and you don’t have to suck on it if you can’t handle being deepthroated,” you mocked him trying to imitate his tone. “Well, I want to and I will.”

And so you listened to Johnny’s airy chuckle, broken by the feeling of your mouth on him again, this time deeper than before. 

“You love a challenge, huh?” 

You would have said that, yes, you loved it and you loved to win, if it weren’t for his cock sliding down your throat making it difficult to talk. 

“Fuck, baby, that’s- oh shit-,” he grabbed your head as you bobbed your head up and down a few times before you couldn’t take it anymore and let it out with a lewd plop. 

“Baby?” you raised one eyebrow at him. 

“You don’t like it?” 

“Do I look like a baby to you?” you smiled with wet lips, your hand restlessly pumping his cock hard and fast. 

Johnny grunted again, his hips rising to meet your touch even more. 

“Hm, no, you look like a little slut right now,” he agreed with a smirk before his expression changed again into, you realized in that moment, the best view you’ve ever seen in your whole life. Head thrown back and completely at your mercy, Johnny came hard, his whole body twitching as his cum spurted on your hand and face. 

“I think I won this time,” you pumped him a few more times before letting him go. “Hm, you drink so much coffee,” you smacked your lips after licking his cum off your fingers. 

“This wasn’t part of the game.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve just decided that it was,” you shrugged. 

Johnny grabbed his discarded t-shirt and cleaned his stomach. “So, are we playing now?”

His tone got dangerous and his expression made your wet pussy even drippier but you had no time to worry or form a single thought about it since you suddenly found yourself with the face on the mattress instead. 

You turned your head sideways to be able to breathe and Johnny’s hands didn’t even try to be gentle when they pulled your panties down. 

The loud smack arrived before the sensation of his big palm on your asschecks could. When you finally felt the burning sensation, another slap added to that. 

Your fingers grabbed Johnny’s blanket, preparing yourself for the third spank, absolutely not expecting his tongue inside of you instead. 

“Fuckfuckfuck-” you mewled but your sounds only made Johnny more ferocious, hands opening you up, eating you out as if he’d been dying to do so for a long time. And it was true for yourself too, but no imagination of yours could have realistically portrayed the way he was making you feel and no fingers of yours could reach as deep as his did, fingering you fast, tongue not stopping for a second, not even when you violently went over the edge with the loudest moans you’ve ever heard yourself emit. 

“You win, you win-,” your rough throat tried to stop him from torturing your overstimulated clit and you heard him suck on his fingers after he let you go. 

“Okay, I’ll take it. But this is just the beginning. Are you going to let me fuck you, baby?” he caressed your ass, going down to your waist and cupping your breasts. 

The movement made his cock poke at your entrance and you imperceptibly opened your legs even more. 

“Yes, please,” you whispered back, turning your head to meet his lips as he lifted your chin. 

“Hm? Say that again?” 

“Please.” 

His tip easily slipped inside but the stretch still made you hiss through your teeth. Johnny shushed you, kissing your shoulder and neck until he bottomed out. “You can handle it, right baby?” You tried to nod but his first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs and you let your head fall down again with a whine. 

Johnny moved again and again then stopped with a grunt. “Beg a little for me again.” 

You bit your lower lip, his tip pressing right when you needed it to and you wanted him to do it non stop. 

“I don’t think I will beg again,” you whispered with a smile and started to move your hips instead. It was a sloppy and slow job, nowhere sharp and quick as Johnny’s, but you had to win again. 

The man let your ass bounce on his stomach a few times, staring at the way you were stretched around him then he grabbed your waist and left you all empty. 

You whined, clenching yet nothing being inside of you anymore. 

“I said beg.” 

His breath was now on your spine, his wet mouth placing kisses on your skin, making it shiver and taking some of it in his teeth, sucking on it until he was satisfied. 

But you remained silent and he clicked his tongue at your stubbornness. In a single go he filled you up again and this time he never stopped. 

He was breaking you in half and if you hadn’t already had tears in your eyes, this would have been the time to start crying from pleasure. 

“Holy fucking shit--John-” you cried out, breath rhytmically broken by his deep thrusts and when he added his slaps again, you just lost it all, cumming so hard that the neighbors were probably ready to call an ambulance. 

Johnny stopped balls deep inside of you, feeling the way you clenched around him. And when you thought it was over, when you barely started to hear again, he moved as hard as before, shushing you and pressing his fingers roughly into your skin. 

“You can handle another round, right baby? You’re such a pretty little slut with a bigger attitude than she can carry. This is nothing for you.” 

Fucked dumb, you could only nod and Johnny started to lose control himself, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, some drops falling from his collabones to his chest. And when you felt his cum spurt inside of you, you finally begged, repeating it again and again. Johnny didn’t stop and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to move at all the next day when your muscles contracted for the nth time in so little time, collapsing completely after Johnny slowly slipped out of you. 

His breath felt wet and boiling on your face when he dropped beside you. 

He swallowed a few times trying to catch his breath. “Fucking finally. I knew it was going to be epic. Why did you refuse me for so long? Look what you missed.” 

You would have snorted if you had the force so you resorted to just let out a whine. “I refused so I couldn’t see this. I have a big attitude? Well, you have the biggest ego in the world.” 

Johnny turned his head towards you. “And cock.” 

You rolled your eyes and accepted his hands pulling you towards his chest. 

“Ew, you’re sweaty,” you mumbled. He kissed your forehead. “And you love it.” “No,” you denied it, “butIloveyou,” you added quickly. 

Johnny shook your body in a hug. “Hm?? Say that again.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” 

That grown man pouted at you making his eyes wide and glossy. “Please?” 

“Whoa,” you smiled, “are you acting cute at me right now? After killing me with your monster cock?” 

Johnny nodded cutely and repeated the plea. 

“Okay, okay. I-- love you.” 

He chuckled happily and tightened his arms around you again, squeezing you in an almost mortal hug. 

“Again.”

You sighed realizing that you were suddenly dealing with a child. 

“I love you.” 

And you repeated it again and again until you were sure that he finally fell asleep. 

With one hand to caress his face you finally indulged in staring at him, fully realizing what that weird sensation in your gut was. 

“I really love you.” 

Your whisper was tiny and barely audible but Johnny smiled. 

“I know. And I love you too.”