#the bookshelf + half of my closet is done so (: <3

[diobrando]

"Reorganizing" my room just means I clean my room like a madman and move 10 things around to make space for more books

[hogwarts-in-beaconhills]

Things in my (probably very filled with unidentified brain worm humans, but we don’t self diagnose around here) house that ✨just make sense✨ pt. 1:

A sticky note on top of a recalled jar of peanut butter that says “poison :(” because we keep almost eating it and we don’t want to die

A 5ft tall drawer thing on wheels filled with medical supplies in the dead middle of our kitchen

Half of our stove covered in every prescription any of us have so we don’t forget it

A giant dry erase calendar on the pantry door dated June of 2021

The pantry is full of not food things: trash bags, grocery bags, umbrellas, the granola bars nobody likes from a year ago, spare lightbulbs, old batteries in a jar?, vacuum filters, sandwich baggies, spare dog supplies, a mop in its box unopened from 2009, the 7 other mops/brooms we own, punch bowls, spare plates, paper towels, etc.

The bar is covered in a poorly organized version of what most people would store in the food pantry

A 3ft tall bookshelf with no top (it’s supposed to be that way, not like broken) hidden with 6ft 7in of books in the living room (I’m a reader okay.)

Three baskets of blankets in the living room because we like soft things and nobody can share soft things so they are organized by where they get used in the living room but everyone has like 3 blankets in each space (no, it really isn’t that big of a living room, we really are just that ridiculous.)

Messy bedrooms but in different flavors

My room is set up horribly, long story, but think 2ft wide alley on three sides of the bed because of a poorly placed 500 lbs dresser and closet. So like the alley on both sides are always full of clothes and blankets and books and projects and abandoned school notes and other things but I can’t move the room because changing the layout of my space is VERY stressful for me. I know where everything is in my room exactly but I can never remember where anything is anywhere else. (Rip phone, I’m writing on my iPad rn)

Another room is set up perfectly, but the owner always leaves everything on the floor exactly where they were when they got done with it/saw something more interesting in their room/gets called out of their room etc. (gets called, sets thing down immediately, goes to place immediately)

Another room is just a mess because the closet is open and things that belong in the dresser are in baskets in front of it but very chaotic because “it’s easier to pick out clothes when you can see what options you have.”

<my favorite number

Three dead plants (rip sparkle emoji, Morris, and hagfish)

The fact that those are the actual names my entire family uses for the three plants

A trash can (little bitty ones) next to both ends of both couches and next to the chair in the living room so that the built in cup holders don’t collect things when we forget them (people still remind each other that they exist because occasionally we forget)

7 water bottles in various degrees of drank that everyone knows who they belong to in the living room that will get drank eventually

My grammar skills

My spelling abilities (thank you spell check)

The fact that I inherited both

A collective agreement that math is actually the best, science is fun, and art is whatever you decide it is (dad thinks it is hard and has a hard time at it, mom decided she could probably do that and is good at it, siblings are various degree of in between)

Science night on Wednesday where we all watch a nature documentary and then a nova documentary

We are all, except one, legit nocturnal by nature. In summers and on weekends and holidays we operate on a “get up and watch the sunset then watch the sun rise before dinner schedule” without intentional planning and every time our health legitimately improves across the board.

My ability to stop watching any show at any point in time and be fine with never having answers UNLESS the person next to me knows what is going to happen and then I get very stressed if they won’t tell me. (No it is not spoiling it, it is saving me the anxiety of not knowing what is about to happen. I enjoy it so much more if I know what to expect. Yes I am reading it’s entire wiki because you won’t tell me if Sam dies) and the rest of my family being the exact opposite

The fact that I am procrastinating English even tho tomorrow is the last day of school and I am failing and now this list has 25 over shared facts about my family :)

[fruitcoops]

You’ve done a few ace Reg centered fics (which I adore, thank you) what about an aro Reg centered one? Like I know you headcanon him as aroace but there’s not a lot out there for just an aro aspect if you get me. Anyway, do ignore if you don’t vibe with this. I adore your fics and I hope you have a wonderful day ♥️

AAAHHH YES!! I love that people enjoy my aroace Regulus fics! I absolutely vibe with this and had a great time revisiting my favorite runaway snake <3 Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

I

Leo sniffed the air, then leaned down and sniffed Regulus.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Is that you?”

“Is what me?” Regulus looked down at himself, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“That smell.”

He frowned. Aside from taking a shower in the morning instead of at night, he hadn’t changed any part of his routine. Tentatively, he sniffed his shirt. “…I don’t think so?”

“GImme your hand.” Leo reached down and took it before Regulus could protest—he lifted it to his face and made a humming sound of satisfaction. “It is you. I like your hand lotion.”

“Thanks?” Regulus didn’t remember putting any lotion on that morning. It hadn’t been dry enough recently to make his knuckles crack, and ever since he left the Snakes, his blisters weren’t as severe…

A thought struck him as they headed down the next aisle. Soap.

“I’m not wearing hand lotion, but Sirius got new soap for the bathroom. Something with flowers, maybe?”

“Magnolia,” Leo said with a small smile.

“Yeah, something like that. The minty stuff was making Remus sneeze.” Regulus paused. “How do you know what flower it is?”

“Smells like home.”

He closed his eyes and breathed deep again; he had never been to New Orleans, but knowing that only made him want to go more. He laughed under his breath. “Knutty, guess what?”

“What?”

“I’m an aromatic aromantic.”

“Oh my god,” Leo groaned, shoving him away by the forehead as they rounded the corner. “You’re awful.”

“I’m hilarious,” Regulus corrected with a grin.

II

Regulus drummed his hands on the doorjamb as he popped his head into the living room. Nervous energy prickled in his stomach, though it wasn’t nearly as severe as the first time he came out.

“Do you want to join?” Sirius asked around half an Oreo, tucking his legs up. Some sci-fi action movie Regulus had never seen burst in bright colors across the TV screen; one of the Star-somethings, he thought.

“No, I just needed to talk to you. Uh, you know how I’m ace?”

Sirius sat up straighter with concern written all over his face. “Are you okay? Did someone give you shit for it?”

He shook his head and tried to ignore the dryness of his mouth. He loves you. He’ll accept you. Be cool. “No, but I’m also aromantic.”

A smile tilted one side of Sirius’ mouth up. “Merde, I thought it was going to be bad news. That’s great, Reg, thanks for letting me know. I guess I should stop looking for people to set you up with, eh?”

“Yes, please,” Regulus laughed around the clog in his chest. “Okay. Okay, cool. Um, thanks for…being cool about it.” Say ‘cool’ a little more, why don’t you?

Sirius just kept on smiling. “Any time. Anything else you want to talk about?”

“I think that covers it,” he said, clearing his throat. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

III

Regulus’ birthday had never been a big deal, even once Sirius was out of the house and it was just him and his parents. They remembered it, of course, and always wished him an absentminded ‘happy birthday’ when he came out of his room, but it never felt personal. Their gifts were especially detached: some pucks, a new stick, and a watch he would never wear were the most common.

His first birthday away from them was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Sirius organized a surprise party while the Dumais kids teamed up against him in a game of pickup hockey at the park; Regulus nearly cried when he saw the bright streamers and crowd of people that showed up for no reason other than to celebrate him for a day.

He finally fell into bed just before midnight, exhausted and all tingly with happiness. The purple, black, and gray flag on his wall caught the moon coming through his window and he smiled to himself when he saw the toppled pile of birthday cards on the dresser beneath it.

Nobody had given him anything remotely hockey-related, nor had he seen any sign of a watch. A new puzzle from Leo with magnolias on it waited on the floor by his closet; the book series Sirius got him was already in his bookshelf, perfectly filling the last bit of empty space.

There was a gentle knock on the door just before he turned his light off. “You can come in,” he called, suddenly worried. Had something happened in the twenty minutes he had been gone?

Remus stepped in with a shy smile as he fidgeted with a small package wrapped in green paper. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were getting ready for bed.”

“It’s alright.”

“This is for you.” He sat on the end of Regulus’ bed and handed him the package; it was soft, like fabric, but much too small to be clothing. “I was hiding it so you wouldn’t find it on accident and totally forgot to give it to you earlier.”

“Thanks, Remus. You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged. “It’s your birthday. The presents are the best part.”

The best part is being absolutely suffocated by affection from twelve Lions, Regulus thought, though he kept it to himself and picked at the shiny gold ribbon. “Can I open it?”

“Sure thing, birthday boy.”

It certainly felt like fabric when it brushed against Regulus’ fingers and he scooted closer to his bedside lamp as he pulled the wrapping paper away. Green, grey, white and black stood out in blocky stripes against the blue of his bedspread—it was slightly smaller than his ace flag, but just as beautiful.

“It’s—Erin thought you might like it. From the bookstore?” Remus was worrying at the cuff of his sleeve, as if there was any possible way Regulus wouldn’t like it. “It’s the—”

“Aromantic pride flag,” he murmured, tracing the edges and willing his voice not to crack. He swallowed hard and kept it clutched tight in his hand as he turned and wrapped his arms around Remus in a hug. “Thank you.”

Remus seemed surprised, but quickly relaxed and held him close. “Happy birthday, Reg. I’m really glad you like it.”

“Of course I like it,” he scoffed, closing his eyes as a slight prickle built behind them.

“I’m really glad you came to stay with us,” Remus said when Regulus finally pulled away. “It’s been awesome getting to know you.”

Regulus cracked a smile. “Ditto. Today was incredible, by the way.”

The clock on his nightstand beeped as midnight struck and Remus raised his eyebrows. “Oof, sorry for keeping you up.”

“Are you kidding?” Regulus laughed. “I’m a night owl. I’ll be up for ages.”

“Uh-huh, sure you will.” Remus shook his head as Regulus stifled a yawn, then stood and headed back toward the door. “Sleep tight, Reg.”

“You, too.”

Regulus curled up under the covers with the flag’s smooth fabric tucked against his face and the scent of magnolia soap winding around him. Happy birthday to me, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

[stories-by-rie]

Happy STS! :D What was your worldbuilding process like for your wip? What details came to you first? What kind of vibes did you want to give the settings?

Thank you, Cilly! This is an interesting question and I think I can answer it nearly generally for all my wips, though I had to think about it for a while ^^ Also, this is Long.

I usually start with a white room.

Worldbuilding has no priority in first drafts, I suppose that largely because I am an underwriter and have trouble with descriptions. Instead I focus on plot, characters, and the magic system that I don’t consider part of worldbuilding. Sometimes the worldbuilding even contradicts itself at this stage. Rarely, the room already has wallpapers and even a bit of furniture, like for GLMGK, which sort of plays in our world. (I still needed to rearrange and decorate, but the room wasn’t white at the beginning.)

~ then i read the first draft again and cry ~

Next, I try to decide on an actual setting.

Note that I said try. Sometimes the decision making process is long and convoluted. I decide what the world actually looks like, this is mostly on a very geographic level. Islands? Forests? (It’s usually forests at the beginning!) Desert? But also at a socioeconomic level. What kind of technology exists? How does society work? Politics? At this point, the room is not white anymore. There is wallpaper (sometimes multiple layers) on the walls, and basic furniture. You could live in this! It would not be fun but it could work! This often happens before I tackle draft two.

Now, the items.

Clothes into the closet, plates into the kitchen, plants on the window sill. Or, getting in touch with the room. This is the part where I actively try to interweave characters, plot & worldbuilding. This also automatically happens before this stage, but here I work harder on it. This also means that I start to prioritize. Yes, plates belong into the kitchen, but if my characters never walk into the kitchen, I don’t actually need to put any plates in there. If they sort through the bookshelf, though, I really should make sure there are books in there!! Maybe, though, I also know that the plates are in the kitchen and if they don’t get attention, they start to scream (as plates do), so I have to make my characters walk into the kitchen now. Worldbuilding at this stage might influence the plot and then, well, I have to rewrite a whole chunk to make it work. This means more tears, draft two is evil, I said it first.

The decoration.

Technically, it would already work the way it is, but I think that is very boring and impersonal. So I add some clutter! Does the world need clutter? Yes, because I said so. Sure, a minimalist world works, but the longer I stay, the faster it starts to unnerve me and I’d move out really quick! So I fill it up with stuff. Magic system compliant books, made up songs, street lamp systems, anecdotes, feral mushrooms and the 200-years-spanning history of that island that sank a while ago (rip). The usual.

Congrats! I have made myself a whole new worl-

Oops, oh no, oh wait- what is that? Oh no there is a burst pipe in the bathroom, I totally forgot about the bathroom? Now I have to tear the wall down and it destroys a bit of the living room as well :( Well, that sucks but better fix that quick in the next draft or 3 x)

Ideally, once I am done, the vibes are immaculate. I adjusted the room so it fits it perfectly, so the vibes get more depth the more I work on it. Sometimes, I don’t really know the vibes until half-way through but that’s fine! Sometimes the room is just superior and knows this stuff earlier than me.

And that’s it! Wasn’t this a very professional of me, I am very proud, it makes total sense to me anyway *youtube influencer voice* hit like and subscribe!

[eveningstar1516]

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 6

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:

Letting go, both demons left for the palace as I went to my room. Shedding my clothes, I bypassed pyjamas and laid in bed. Tears ran down my face as I thought about Y/N and all the precious memories we had made together. I rolled over and realized they left their Little D No.1 plushie here from their last sleepover. Clutching it, their scent strong on the plushie, I drifted off to sleep, hugging the Little D in my arms wishing it was Y/N instead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 6 - Celestial Realm (1207 words)

I awoke to the sun shining brightly through the floor to ceiling windows overlooking a garden. The bed felt softer than a cloud. Basking in the softness of the bed, it took a hot second before I realized that this is not my bed and there is a SUN! Bolting upright I looked around a bedroom that was not my own. The entire wall on my right was covered in floor to ceiling windows. At the foot of the bed was a small bookshelf with some plants on top. Just beyond that seemed to be a walk in closet. A small bathroom was located next to the closet. Other than a small study desk near the bed, the room was simple and plainly decorated. The walls were painted off-white with light neutral pastel green trims and accents. A knock at the door had me jumping out of my skin.

“Y/N, are you awake?” Finally, something I recognize!

“Yes, come in Simeon.”

“Good morning Y/N. Did I wake you?” “No, I woke up a short while ago. Where am I, Simeon?” Simeon walked over and sat in a chair by the desk. A soft smile on his face as he answered.

“You’re in the Celestial realm-”

“Yes, I know that, I mean where in the realm am I? And who’s room is this?”

“This is a guest room in the House of Honors where Luke and I live. We found you passed out in the garden with your wings covering you.”

“We?”

“Michael and I. He and the rest of the Archangels live upstairs on the top floor.” Simeon opened his mouth to continue when we heard 3 strong knocks on the door. Michael then came in. He had a fair complexion. Reddish orange hair was braided down his right shoulder. He sported a get up similar to Simeons but he had a full gray half sleeve with a cape instead of Simeon's sleeveless leotard and over the shoulder cape. His shirt bore golden accents and his cape was golden on the inside without any tassels.

“Good morning Simeon, Y/N.”

“Good morning Michael. How did it go?”

“Father isn't exactly pleased to have Y/N up here, sporting a fashion similar to Samael’s no less. He requested an audience with them as soon as they woke and had eaten.”

“Very well, I’ll escort them there after they eat.”

“Father had specifically asked me to escort them to the palace. Simeon, you should attend to your other duties.”

“Of course.” Simeon turned to me, giving me a hug.

“It was nice seeing you again Y/N.”

“Likewise, say hi to Luke for me”

“I will.” With that Simeon let go and walked out of the room.

Michael now looked at me, looking less than pleased to be dealing with me.

“Follow me.” He then walked out and I scrambled out of bed catching up with his long strides. We soon entered what looked like a dining area. There seemed to be some leftovers from breakfast.

“Have a seat and help yourself. Once you finish, we will go see Father, he will decide what to do with you.” Michael didn’t bother waiting for my reply before heading off in the direction of what looked to be a kitchen. Following his direction, I grabbed a plate and put some familiar looking foods that I remembered Luke teaching me about. As I was eating, I mentally prepared myself for the inevitable face off I would have with God. It was not going to be pretty.

In the Devildom. After they lost Y/N

When they first lost Y/N, Satan kept to himself. He locked himself up in his room and submerged himself in his books. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he found himself in his circle taking it out on the humans down there serving their punishment. His wrath consuming him. One day Lucifer found him curled in on himself trying to reel in his wrath after unleashing it on some of the 4th circles' inhabitants. Satan didn’t sense anything approaching until he felt a firm but comforting hand on his shoulder. Looking up he found Lucifer looking down on him with a sad smile and a look of something between pity and sympathy in his eyes. Lucifer looked down at his brother, no, his son. He took one look at the state he found Satan in and did something he didn’t think he’d ever do again, he hugged him. Satan felt his older brother's, no, his father's arms wrap around him. At first, all he felt was shock. He and Lucifer haven’t hugged since he was a child, now though Satan found himself leaning into his father's touch. Ignoring everything around them, Satan let out all his grief and sadness, holding onto his father like if he didn’t he’d disappear as well.

Present

Classes were going slow for Satan. While he would normally be engrossed in the lectures, diligently taking notes, he keeps finding himself drifting between thoughts, not staying on one topic for long and always finding a way back to thinking about Y/N. About halfway through his curses and hexes lecture, he gave up on paying attention and let his mind wander and his hands write whatever they wanted. At the end of the lecture, Satan looked at his notebook taking in what he had written. Mind you, he didn’t pay attention and just let his hand wander. What he found on the page both amazed and saddened him. Today’s lectures had been about the art of seduction with the use of curses instead of a demon's natural charm or beauty. He ended up writing out diligent notes from his lecture, but instead of them being in his usual note taking style, he found them in the form of a story Y/N had once had an idea about writing. He wrote about his time tutoring Y/N for their exams and how they successfully seduced him but instead of acting like a kitten, they took a spell Satan taught them and altered it so that not only would they have seduced Satan, but he still regained his free will, with Y/N pulling the strings, unknowing to him. He read the short story his mind had came up with, his mind revisiting memories of different lessons with Y/N, their progress, their ups, their downs, the one time they cursed Mammon into a frog, the look on their face when they successfully executed a complex spell without Satan’s magical assistance. He found himself longing for those days, an unfamiliar yet comforting emotion filling his heart. As he walked through the halls towards his next class, he made a vow to himself to try and feel that unfamiliar emotion until he could name it, then keep feeling it, because, for Satan, it felt like Y/N was right next to them, with their signature smile on their face, proud of him for focusing on a feeling opposite of his wrath. Should he start to feel his wrath taking over, he would picture Y/N, holding his hand, encouraging him to feel that unfamiliar emotion. One he soon learned was called ‘Philia Love’.

[honestlyhappyharry]

Chapter 12

Settling in

Chapter 11

Watching everything in your house get moved was an odd feeling. It had been the only constant in your life since Lily was born, it was so much more than a house to you.

But with all the stuff slowly dripping out, packed up in boxes, being put on a truck and taken across the city, you couldn't help but think about when you first moved in.

Back then the house seemed like such a weird place to be living; you knew hardly any of your neighbours, you still had to google maps the address on your way home and when you looked out the window you saw the beach.

Now you knew almost everyone on your street, you could find any house from anywhere and the view out the window was just the same.

"Are you ready to go?" Harry asked as he walked up behind you in the kitchen, making you jump in fear.

You nodded. "Yeah, can I just walk around and say goodbye first?" You asked, moving to the lounge.

"Sure, baby. I'll go get Lils." He said before walking out to find Lily, who had gone three houses down to say goodbye to her friend. Although she would be seeing her at pre-k when Harry drove her over for the next week and a half and you slept in.

Tears welled in your eyes as you walked around. The only time you use to ever think you'd be moving out is when you were going to a retirement home or moving back to your hometown.

You stood in Lily's room for the longest amount of times. All the memories of her growing up hit you at once. Like a movie flashing before your eyes. All of those nights you'd spent desperately trying to get her to sleep and all of the days she slowly grew into the most beautiful, caring and amazing child you'd ever met.

"Come here," Harry said as he walked in saw the amble evidence of tears rolling down your cheeks. He wrapped his arms around you and it's a correlation to how secure the house made you feel.

"I'm sorry... I just... there's just.... this house just means so much to me." You told him honestly, it took a while to find the right words and you really didn't want to be crying on such a happy day.

He shushed you. "It's okay, love." He breathed out as he held you before he pulled you away from his chest and wiping the tears from your eyes. "Now let's go and start a new chapter of our lives." He told you and you nodded before walking out the front door with him.

As soon as you got to the new house everything felt right. You did think there would be some small doubts but there were absolutely none. It already felt like home.

The house itself was big. With a bottom floor containing 3 bedrooms, 2 lounges, a kitchen, a study, 4 bathrooms as well as a big outdoor space with a pool.

The pool was one of the best features. It had 3 separate slides, each of which connected to 3 of the bedrooms on the second floor. On the ground level, there was a separate pool bathroom but the pool itself had a built-in grill and bar area where you could swim up to get drinks. That was along with the huge movie screen.

There were 4 bedrooms on the 2nd floor each with its own ensuite as well as a lounge. The 3rd floor was significantly smaller, with only a movie room and library which had a secret staircase to a mezzanine floor with a glass ceiling. It gave you the best view of the stars and city.

"Can I look at my room?!" Lily asked quickly and Harry nodded before walking up the stairs after the jogging little girl. You followed the pair. "Oh my god!" She exclaimed before you walked in to see a whole new bedroom. It had a massive princess carriage with a bed inside as well as a castle that had stairs going up. At the top of the castle, there was a small bookshelf and a slide that went down to the desk at the bottom.

Lily ran around the room like someone had given her 3 cups of coffee. And some cocaine. You noticed the majority of her clothes in the wardrobe, her teddy bears and barbie dolls already there.

"Hope you don't mind," Harry said as he came up behind you.

"Tell me next time, Haz. She loves it but I wish I knew." You told him and he nodded before pulling you into his side. "What's going to happen when she grows out of this?"

"There's another room on this floor with a walk-in wardrobe." He told you and your eyes widened a little surprised by his thoughtful nature. "Ready to see our room?" He asked as he pulled you out to Lily's room.

"Lils, we're going to see our room. Don't go on the slide." You told her and she nodded before running up to the two of you and hugging your legs before rushing out a quick 'thank you' and going back to playing with her toys.

Harry just smiled. "Don't worry about the slide, they are all safely locked with a PIN number." You were swooning about how thoughtful he was for someone who had only had a kid for 7 months but it was a good look on him

"I love you, Har." You said as you continued to follow him to your room.

"I love you even more. Now close your eyes." He instructed and you complied, putting your hands over them before he opened the door and led you inside. "Open." He told you.

As soon as you remove your hands from your face you saw how sophisticated it looked. There was a massive be and ottoman with a couch and table in the corner. "Look at this," Harry said as he pushed a button and a tv came up from the foot of the bed.

You'd barely glanced down that end but now you saw the massive window with a view of the whole city and a door that had a few steps down onto a balcony that was big enough to have a table and chairs.

"I'm in shock. It's beautiful." You told him and he smiled, looking pleased with himself.

"You're beautiful. Now wanna see the closet?" He asked and you nodded, wondering what else he had in store for you. The closet was like a whole house. First, there was a seemingly normal shoe, bag and accessory closet with a massive mirror and all your makeup neatly organised. Then some stairs led up to a whole top floor filled with your and Harry's clothes.

"Harry, this must-have taken forever..." You trained off.

"That's why I didn't get home until late. It was mainly the boys that did the final touches." You thought Harry not being to be home until 8 was a normal thing, it did worry you.

But now it was making sense, him insisting on going to lunch before you got here was just time to get it ready.

"I love you so much." You told him as you brought your lips together. "Not even for the materialistic aspect of everything you've done. Just that you care enough about us to do this."

"I just want you two to be happy. Now come and look at the bathroom, you sap." He joked as he walked through a door which led into a big room with a bath, fireplace, shower, two vanities and a toilet. There was also a door to the bedroom.

"Harry!" You screamed. "It's all so amazing." You told him before you leant into his side. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer.

"I'm glad you think so." He said before he kissed you again.

"Mummy! Hazzy! Can we go on the waterslide?" Lily's voice came as she ran through the room, making you pull away from your kiss.

Lately 'Hazzy' was her nickname for Harry and while he was delighted she was calling him that, he was gunning for the title of dad.

"Yeah!" Harry agreed and you smiled at the two of them. "Go get changed and I'll come with you for the first slide, then we can play in the pool." Lily ran off with the biggest smile on her face and you turned to Harry with an equally big smile on yours.

"We better go get changed then." You winked at him before going to the closet.

"Can you pretty please wear the green one, please?" He begged as you searched through your swimsuits and briefly picked up a dark green one.

It made you inwardly roll your eyes at him. "I am not wearing this." You continued as you held it out. "It's way too complicated and a little slutty." He just looked annoyed as you showed him another option. "This one?" You held up one of your favourite yellow bikinis.

"I like it, but can you wear the other one when we go to the hot tub tonight?" He asked, almost like he was telling you.

You laughed at him. "Who says I'm going in the hot tub with you tonight?" You finished changing and walked across to see Harry who wasn't ready because of how distracted he was checking you out.

He picked up his iconic yellow shorts, which ironically matched your bikini, and began undressing. "Oh, I'm definitely getting you in the hot tub tonight." He said as if it were a challenge. His low voice made him so much more attractive.

After he finished changing you stood there kissing for a few minutes.

Lily raced in a few seconds later. "Let's go! Let's go!"

"Alright," Harry said as he got dragged to her room.

"Hold on, I'm going down to the pool, then I'll film when you come down." You said as you grabbed your phone and raced downstairs, quickly trying to find the perfect angle to watch them pop out of the waterslide.

"Ahhh!" You heard Lily's voice a second before she and Harry came splashing out into the pool. "That was so much fun, can we go again?" She asked, looking up at Harry who held her because of how deep the water was.

And that was how the rest of the day went, Lily going down the waterslide before running up the stairs to go again.

Finally, you got out of the pool and left Harry to supervise Lily while you made dinner. That night as you, Lily and Harry ate dinner, while looking out over the LA skyline, everything was perfect.

And, later in the night, the hot tub with Harry was just as perfect.

[youngbloodlisk]

Worth It // Kim Sunwoo Model AU

Chapter 1

chapter genre: angst, fluff

(note: sunwoo does not appear in the series yet)

Emotionless, numb, and yet full of every feeling possible.

That's what packing up my stuff feels like.

That's what leaving what has been my home since age 15 feels like.

That's what being unsure of my future and career feels like.

I carefully place a designer shirt, a pink one from a shoot last year which they allowed me to keep, into the hanging clothing bag.

I zip up the bag and push it against the others.

Okay, that takes care of the clothes.

I turn away from the closet, looking around my room.

Photos litter the walls, some in frames, some stuck on with a piece of tape, and some held up with a thumbtack.

While I have a few of my magazine issues in the boxes by the door, previously displayed on my bookshelf, none of these photos are professional.

These are Polaroids, photo booths, and cell phone photos. The likes of those.

These don't document my career, they document my life. My friends, my adventures, my travels (although, those trips are credited to my job).

I feel as though I could cry again, but I've cried so much in the past week. I think I'm out of tears now.

"You want some help? That's a lot of photos to take with you." My best friend's voice comes from the doorway.

"I wanna leave them... I don't wanna have to take them anywhere. I don't wanna go anywhere."

Juyeon enters my room and wraps his arms around me from behind, going just slightly on his toes to rest his chin on my head.

"I know you don't. Neither do I. But it'll be okay."

"You don't know that."

"Sure, I do. You'll find a new company faster than you can blink. Have you checked your business email? You may have some offers already. The news is already out that Imaginary Parties is bankrupt, I'm sure other agencies are itching to snag you up."

"That's a nice thought, Ju... But I wanna stay here. This very room. I've lived here for 6 years. I've worked with the same people for 6 years. It's not easy to leave it all."

Juyeon puts his feet flat on the ground and moves his head so it's resting against mine, his lips next to my ear.

"I know." He whispers sweetly.

We stay silent and frozen in our position, besides some swaying back and forth.

He knows all I need is comfort right now.

He always knows what I need, and what I don't need. That's why he's my best friend.

He joined Imaginary Parties Modeling Agency when I was 18 and he was 20. We immediately clicked.

He's been my best friend, my second half, for almost 3 years, and that's part of what scares me the most about Imaginary Parties coming to an end.

I'll probably barely, if ever, see Juyeon.

When I join another agency, and he joins another agency, and our schedules mix about as well as oil and water...

I may only see him on magazine covers and advertisements.

I don't know what I'll do without Lee Juyeon by my side.

"You'll be okay." It's only when he responds that I realize I had mumbled my last thought out loud. "We'll be okay. Who knows, maybe we'll end up at the same place?"

"Not likely."

"With as many shoots as we've done together, it's probably more likely than you think! Hey..." He lets go of me and turns me around to look into his deep, genuine, caring eyes. "Everything is gonna be okay. You have me here?" He points to my heart, and I roll my eyes at his cheesiness.

"Yes, Ju."

"And I have you here." He places his hand on his own heart. "No matter what happens, we have each other. Right?"

"Ju, what if-"

"Right?"

I feel a tear escape my eye, and Juyeon carefully wipes it away with his thumb.

"Right."

He pulls me into a tight hug.

I know he's trying to tell me he loves me.

-----------

Juyeon holds my hand and walks with me to my car.

We just finished packing our stuff into our cars, mine first and then his.

I can feel something start to bubble up in me again. Juyeon senses my mood change.

"You better text me when you get home. I'll do the same. And I keep telling you to check your email! We should compare our offers. Maybe someone reached out to both of us and we'll be back together in an agency a lot faster than you're thinking. And even if we aren't, you know I'm gonna text you constantly. I'll annoy you to death and you'll love it."

I can't help but chuckle.

"You always know what to say, don't you?"

"Only with you." He opens my car door for me before giving me one last hug.

"Have fun in Gwangju. Be safe traveling."

He's about to travel back to his family to visit while he works out a new agency, leaving me in Seoul without him for at least three weeks.

"I will. Again, text me when you get home! I need to know you made it safe."

"I know, I know. I will. I'll see you sometime, Ju."

"I'll see you as soon as possible." He kisses my forehead.

Again, I know that's another way he tells me he loves me without actually saying it.

He let's go of my hand and begins to walk away, heading toward his own car packed full of stuff.

I sigh and repress my tears before getting in my car and driving away from Imaginary Parties for the last time, never to return.

-----------

My phone wakes me up in the middle of the night. I blink my eyes to try to focus on the name on my screen

Lee Juyeon

"Waking me up? He better be alone and stuck in a ditch..."

I swipe across the screen and press the speaker button, far too tired to hold a phone up to my ear right now.

"Ju, it's 3am. Are you okay?"

"I should be asking you that! You never text me or called me that you got home safe! At first, I assumed it was just because of service, but nothing ever came through! You did make it home okay, right?"

His extreme concern is both annoying and endearing.

"Yes, Ju. I'm home, in my room, in my bed, previously asleep. And you made it okay?" I rub my face, trying to actually listen and comprehend his answer.

"Yeah, I just got here. Travel wasn't as fast and smooth as anticipated, but I made it."

"That's great. I miss you already, Ju. Can I please sleep now and tell you more about how much I miss you tomorrow?"

"You better. Don't forget this time!" The phone beeps, telling me that he did me the favor of hanging up.

I don't even bother to put my phone back on the nightstand. My hand goes limp as I rapidly fall into sleep and the phone slips out of my grip, without me noticing or caring.

-----------

"What did I tell you? I told you! I told you like... at least twenty times. I knew it! I-"

"Ok, ok, Juyeon, I get it. You were right."

"Can you say that again and let me turn on my laptop screen record this time?"

"Absolutely not."

"Are you gonna accept it?"

"Are you?"

"If you are."

"Well, I'm only going to accept if Juyeon accepts."

"I accept!"

"Then... so do I..."

It begins to set in.

The same agency reached out to both me and Juyeon, Worth It Modeling.

Home to some of the biggest models in the business, and they want us.

Both of us.

We're gonna work together again.

We're gonna live together again.

"Can you believe that we're gonna work with the likes of Ju Haknyeon and Ji Changmin? And Lee Sangyeon? And Choi Chanhee!" Juyeon starts to fanboy over his favorite models.

When I say favorites, I mean he collects all their issues. And displays them better than he displays his own.

"Aw, little Juyeon finally gets to show off his shrine!"

"It is NOT a shrine! And I'll probably keep them in the closet if I'm working with these guys... it's a little weird to have my own co-workers' magazines on stands on a bookshelf..."

I laugh with him, feeling my worries and sadness begin to lift off my shoulders.

Sure, I'm gonna miss Imaginary Parties a lot, but at least I get to work with Juyeon. Not to mention, I'll also be working with some of the best models in Korea being at Worth It.

Maybe everything will be okay.

-----------

"What about the bookshelf stuff?" I pick up a heavy box and drop it carefully onto the bed.

Juyeon purses his lips and opens the box to look at exactly what's inside.

"It can probably all go up on the new bookshelf. But leave the magazine stands in the box, just store the magazines like normal."

I chuckle slightly, remembering the reason he wants me to exclude the stands from the new bookshelf set-up.

Juyeon goes back to organizing his clothes into his closet, and I grab a stack of books from the box to start on the bookshelf.

As I'm sliding books onto the shelf side-by-side, I hear someone enter the room and immediately Juyeon drops something on his foot and cries out in pain.

My attention is drawn to him, but it appears he's okay. Once I see who had walked into the room, I'm no longer confused by the sudden clumsiness.

I have to keep myself from laughing as Juyeon tries to avoid staring at Choi Chanhee, who is going through the other closet to find a jacket.

The irony is anything but lost on me that Juyeon happens to be roomies with his favorite model.

The moment Chanhee leaves the room, Juyeon looks at me with the most shocked expression I've seen on his face in my entire life.

"That's gotta be a joke."

"Good luck, Ju. You're gonna need it."

"Trade with me."

"You realize the name next to my name on my door belongs to a girl?"

"You realize I don't care?"

"No, Juyeon. You just need to learn to not cry every time you see his face."

"I never cry!" Juyeon protests my accusations, knowing I'm right.

"Last year's December issue of NewShot said otherwise."

He rolls his eyes.

"Whatever..."

We both get back to work, when suddenly the silence is broken after about five minutes.

"They put him in a long skirt with red eyeshadow and they painted his nails green, what was I supposed to do? Not cry?"

[arya-skywalker]

Starved for attention Part 2 (Sanders Sides Fanfic)

Notes: Aiming for 3-4 parts total, hopefully. Sorry for the wait and hope you enjoy! This one’s a bit fluffier.

Also thanks to the TSS Fanworks Server for bouncing ideas around! Apply here to join.

TW: imprisonment, starvation, malnutrition, touch starvation, bathing (implied nudity, no details)

Part 1

~*~

Janus stirred and rubbed his eyes groggily. It was difficult to tell time down here, but something told him it was roughly morning.

“Hey, Fangs.” Virgil was in the cell with him, curled up a few feet away with pillows and blankets. “Lo said you’re touch starved?”

Janus stiffened slightly. “When did you get here?”

“While you were asleep, obviously. Logan let me in,” Virgil said with a half smile. “You look cold. Can I at least give you a blanket?”

Janus nodded slowly. “Yesss.... pleassse.”

Virgil edged closer and gently draped the blanket over his shoulders. “We move at your pace. It’s alright.”

Janus huddled under the blanket, nuzzling the soft fabric. God it felt good. He looked back over at the anxious side. “Sssit next to me?” he asked, hating how small his voice sounded.

Virgil nodded and did so, leaving a few inches between them. “You can... uh... lean against me if you want,” he said.

Warm warm WARM! Janus waited a few minutes to get used to the idea that another person was so close, then hesitantly rested his head on Virgil’s shoulder. “Mm. You’re warm,” he mumbled into the hoodie.

Virgil laughed softly. “Yeah. I know. Do you want my arm around you or nah?”

Janus nodded, closing his eyes and nestling close once he felt the comforting pressure. A good warm. “I misssed you.”

Virgil was silent for a moment. His body tensed ever-so-slightly, but he didn’t let go. “I’m sorry. I was... scared. And I didn’t know.... I didn’t think it would get this bad. How long have you been like this?”

“Sstopped keeping track,” Janus muttered, pulling the blanket closer. “Better not to know.”

“Jan. You know this isn’t good, right? You’re so fucking skinny, I could count all your bones.”

“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed,” Janus drawled, then hummed thoughtfully. “Can I move to your lap? Floor’s cold.”

Virgil sighed. “Sure, whatever.” He gently helped Janus onto his lap, holding him to make sure he didn’t fall. “You know you can’t stay down here much longer.”

“Mmm. You have a better idea?” Janus curled up on his lap, head on Virgil’s chest, soaking up the warmth. “This issss my room now. The ‘dark side’ commonsss are a messs. Any other room could corrupt me, you know that.”

“At least you’d be in an actual bed!” Virgil scowled, then bit his lip. “Unless.... unless we make this place more habitable?”

Janus hugged the pillow and squinted up at Virgil. “Thiss iss a cell. It’s not ssupposed to be comfortable.”

“Who the fuck cares? You’re hurting, Jan. You need help.”

Janus looked away, watching the chains sway. “It could hurt you if you try. I won’t die. I’ll be fine.”

“Janus, look at me. You’re hurting yourself and it sucks. Let us help you.”

Janus’s tongue flicked out, then he sighed and looked back at Virgil. “If the cell fights back, you stop. Clear?”

Virgil smiled grimly. “Yeah. Clear,” he said. “Roman should be able to make some furniture or whatever.”

“Ssstay with me. Pleassse.” Janus closed his eyes tiredly, clinging loosely to Virgil.

“I’m here. Just get some rest, alright?”

Janus wanted to protest, but it was so soft and warm.... He found himself dozing off before he could say another word.

~*~

Janus burrowed into the pile of blankets and pillows. Soft and warm. Exactly what he needed.

But Virgil was gone.

He frowned slightly and sat up, wrapping a blanket around himself. “Virgil?” Janus asked softly. But there was no answer. “Virgil!”

He’s gone. He left you again. He still hates you.

Janus shook his head, hugging a pillow tightly. No. He just.... went to get some food. That has to be it.

Footsteps. Roman’s footsteps.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” Roman sang, twirling as he approached.

“Mmm. And what if I prefer to sstay coiled up in my nessst?” Janus countered.

Roman huffed. “I brought you more food! And some tea. You like tea better than coffee, right?”

Janus nodded slowly. “Did Virgil....?”

“Yes! He told me all about it! We’re going to make this place fit for nobility,” Roman said, beaming.

Janus shrunk into his nest of pillows. “Nothing too fancy. We don’t want to push our luck,” he replied.

“Ridiculous! You deserve the best, and I will give it to you!”

Janus groaned. “Roman, pleassse!”

Roman blinked. “Oh... you’re being serious?”

Janus glared at him. “Yessss I am.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “Jussst... baby steps. Ssee how the cell reactsss.”

“Well.... I guess,” Roman grumbled, then created a key and opened the cell door.

Again, Janus stared at the doorway. It was so easy for them to open it. Why couldn’t he just...? It wouldn’t hurt anyone... Maybe he could...

Roman strode inside, created a small table by the door, and set the food down. Then he clapped his hands and grinned. “Let’s get started! You’ll need a bed and a chair and a desk and a closet and a fireplace and—“

“Ssstop!” Janus held up his hands, then sighed and shook his head. “Sslow down, Your Highnesss. Remember, keep it ssssimple!”

Roman pouted. “But mon python, you deserve the best!”

“Thiss iss not going to work if you fight me every ssstep of the way,” Janus hissed, glaring up at him. Dammit, he felt so small.

He clenched his jaw, then carefully gathered his feet under himself and used the wall as support to stand. It hurt. His legs wobbled. His head spun. This was a bad idea.

Roman rushed over and caught him. “Whoa now! Careful, my frail flower,” he chided, holding him close.

Janus whined, but clung to him. This was embarrassing. He was Deceit. He was Self-Preservation. It shouldn’t be this hard to stand! “I’m fine,” he spat.

Roman scooped him up, which certainly didn’t help. “Here now, I’ve got you!”

Janus squeezed his eyes shut, hiding his face in Roman’s sash. Too fast. Too high. He felt Roman tense as the prince realized his error.

“Oh. Do you want me to put you down?”

“Mmm. Make a bed and put me down on it. A sssimple twin bed. Nothing fancy.”

“How boring!” Roman complained, but with a flourish he did so. “Fine. How’s that?”

Janus took a deep breath and looked at the bed, running his hand across the blanket. It was not too hard, not too soft. Certainly better than the floor and pillow nest. Luckily not too fancy either— light yellow cloth, metal frame with vague snake designs. “Thank you. This is perfect, my prince,” he said, resting his head on the pillow.

Roman beamed at the praise. “Oh goodie! What next?”

Janus hesitated, looking around the cell that had been his home for.... he didn’t even want to know how long. “I don’t need much, my prince,” he said.

Roman tapped his foot. “I know! Lights!” He snapped his fingers, making a large iron candelabra appear with half-melted candles, as well as twining fairy lights around some of the chains.

Janus sighed. “Very pretty, Your Highnesss, but I don’t—“

“Books! You like to read, right? You need a bookshelf!” Roman made a bookshelf appear. “What sort of books? Classics, of course....”

Janus felt a smile tug at his lips. “Forbidden love? With a side of anarchy?”

“Of course, charm snakelet!” Roman beamed, filling the shelves with various books. “What about music?” A record player materialized on top of the bookshelf.

“My prince, you ssspoil me rotten.” Goodness, when was the last time he had actual entertainment? He reached for Roman’s hand. “Come here, pleassse.”

Roman immediately knelt by the bedside and took Janus’s gloved hand, kissing it lightly. “I’m here, treasure,” he said.

Janus looked around the cell. It was already so much better.... but yet, the grime from before remained. “My prince?” he asked quietly.

“Yes charm snakelet?” Roman replied with a dazzling smile.

Janus blushed faintly. “I.... if you don’t mind.... do you think you could.... help me bathe?” He asked sheepishly. “I know I’m disgusting at the moment but...”

Roman snapped his fingers, making a claw-foot bathtub appear, already filled with steaming water and floral-scented soaps.

Janus sank into the bed. “Oh thank goodnessssss.....”

Roman gently helped him to the bath. “You’ll be shining like the sun in no time!”

“Mmmm.... thank you,” Janus murmured, carefully slipping into the warm bath. Clean. He would finally be clean again.

Roman’s touched was light, as if Janus were made of glass that could break at any second. But the bath was soothing as any massage. Once done, Roman wrapped him in heated towels before helping him change into clean clothes.

“Thank you, my prince,” Janus murmured, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

~*~

Logan visited yet again. “May I take your vitals now?” he asked.

Janus sighed. “We are imaginary. I don’t know what you think you’ll find,” he muttered.

“Your metaphysical state reflects that of a human. Well, in your case, half-human and half-reptilian. We cannot die, but we can become ill. If I find an issue that can be remedied, you will recover sooner.” Logan adjusted his tie.

Janus stared at him for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. “Very well. Do what you must.”

Logan opened the cell door and stepped inside. Janus looked away to avoid staring at the taunting path. He remained still as Logan checked his pulse, his lungs, his reaction times, and anything else that he could.

“I... have a hypothesis,” Logan said slowly.

“Do sshare with the classss,” Janus drawled.

Logan frowned. “There is no class—“

“Figure of speech. Continue, please.”

Logan cleared his throat. “I believe that observing some memories of when Thomas has utilized your function may help expedite your recovery,” he said carefully.

Janus blinked. “Watching memories of him lying and putting himself first and such?” he clarified.

“Yes, exactly.” Logan reached into his briefcase and pulled out a small box. “I have one here.”

“Does Patton know?” Janus looked at the box warily.

Logan adjusted his tie. “No, not yet. I made sure to choose a memory related to his education so it would be less suspicious.”

Janus took a deep breath and held out his hands. “Alright. Let me sssee it,” he said.

“Please tell me if you feel anything... strange,” Logan said, then placed the box on Janus’s open palm.

Janus opened the box, trying to ignore how much his hands were shaking. A warm light filled the room and the memory played out before his eyes.

Thomas, laying in bed, coughing— definitely a fake cough— begging his mother to let him stay home from school. Somehow she believed it. But as soon as the door closed, Thomas bolted to his feet and ran downstairs. He made himself breakfast of frozen waffles piled high with various sweets and put on the tv to watch The Office. A mental health day. Thomas was playing hooky to a day to himself. And apparently catch up on homework, but whatever.

Janus gasped once the memory faded and closed the box, feeling a burst of energy.

“Did it work?” Logan asked.

“I... think sssso,” Janus said slowly.

“How do you feel?”

“As if I downed an expresso with a chocolate pastry. A jolt of energy that will likely come crashing down in the not-so-distant future.” Janus tightened his grip on the box. “May I keep it?”

Logan wrote something down, then frowned. “Of course not. I must return the memory to Patton. Please hand it over.”

Janus hissed, recoiling with the box in his arms. “Sssay you losst it!”

“I will not engage in falsehoods if it can be easily avoided. Deceit, give me the memory, please.”

Janus glared at him. “Don’t want to.”

“You are being unreasonable.”

“Don’t care.”

“Deceit—“

Janus bared his fangs. “Get out!”

Logan took a step back. “I am only trying to help you without hurting Thomas or Patton. Surely you understand?”

Janus glared at him, holding the memory close to his chest. His tongue flicked out. “One day,” he said finally. “Let me keep it for one day. Then I will give it back.”

Logan hesitated. “You should not watch it too many times. Thomas might notice and begin obsessing over the memory.”

“Noted.”

Logan bowed his head and left, once again locking the door behind himself. Janus waited until the logical side was gone before rewatching the memory. His strength would return in time. He simply had to be patient.

[gallifreyan85]

The Messenger, part 3

I allowed him to pull me to my feet. I was still scared. At least I wasn’t going to die. That’s a plus I guess. I followed him through the seemingly endless corridors as he rambled on about something. My hands were shanking. Then,  he stopped so suddenly that I almost bumped into him.

 “Ah, there we go. In here,” he paused, gesturing to a white wooden door, “is your room.” I kept silent. My mind was racing. Should I run? But then I’d get lost in the many hallways and if he found me after that I probably wouldn’t get a courtesy of a room... 

My thoughts were interrupted when the Doctor swung the door open. The room was stunning. I looked around with wide eyes, taking in every detail. The walls were a cream color, decorated with fairy lights. A bed stood to the far right, and on it an array of pillows in varying shades of purple. The floor was a dark brown, wooden and matte. 

“You like it?” He asked.

“I-it’s-” I stammered, taken aback by the beautiful room in front of me. “It’s beautiful. T-thank you.” I managed. My hands were still trembling and I fought to keep them still. Calm down Y/n!

“You’re welcome.” he smiled at me. “There should be more clothes in there,” he gestured to a closet inside, “though there is a wardrobe somewhere, it’ll show up eventually. Anyways, the kitchen is over there to the left.” he pointed to a nearby corridor, “feel free to look around, if you’re hungry there’s always some food in there.” he fixed his bowtie. “And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll probably be in the console room, so you know where to find me. Though try and not get lost... if you do just ask the TARDIS for help and she’ll show you the way.” “if she’s feeling nice..” he added under his breath. I tried to memorize everything he said and nodded. 

“Great!” he beamed. “Then I’ll leave you to get some rest. Enjoy!” and he spun around on his heel and walked off. 

I was left alone in the doorway. Taking a breath I stepped inside and closed the door. I looked around again. To the left was a bookshelf, an armchair, another door which i supposed was the bathroom, , a desk with a matching chair, and a vanity with a mirror and lightbulbs. I’ve always admired those. I allowed a hint of a smile to cross my face. Nearing the desk i opened up the top drawer. There were several markers inside, post-it notes in different colors and a hardcover notebook. The closet was indeed full of clothes, all of them exactly my size and all of them beautiful. 

I sat on the bed. It was so soft. On a bedside table there were some scented candles and an old-fashioned alarm clock. It showed half past nine. How long was I here?

After examining the room some more I decided to go see the kitchen. I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and with what has been going on it didn’t even cross my mind that I should eat something. Closing the door gently, I walked out into the hall, and turned left like he said. And indeed there was a door which I carefully opened. Inside was a spacious kitchen with a lot of appliances. I recognized the stove, fridge, and what was possibly a dishwasher, but the other things looked like something that came from a laboratory or a workshop. Deciding to avoid those I rummaged through the kitchen cabinets and managed to find bread. Taking two pieces out of the packet I put them in a toaster, and walked over to the fridge to find something else. Upon opening it, I was met with at least 10 cartons of custard, and a dozen packs of fish fingers. Weird...

Thankfully there was other food as well, and after finding some cheese and ham, I made myself a sandwich. Sitting at the large kitchen table I ate my dinner quickly, and soon returned to my room. My room. That was new. I've never had a room of my own before, not at the orphanage and certainly not at... I gazed down at my still trembling fingers. Okay. Calm down Y/n! You're alive. You're not hurt. Well, not physically at least, but-- You're fine.

"You're fine." I tried saying it outloud. Deep breath. "You're safe." You think you're safe. "You're okay." For now.

Another deep breath. "I'm fine." My voice didn't agree. "I'm safe. I'm okay."

After a quick shower and brushing my teeth I was in bed. The sheets were so soft and the lights dim, that I was instantly tired. But this won't last, I reminded myself. I might be away from Madame Kovarian for now, and the Doctor didn't kill me as she said he would, but tomorrow he'll probably leave me somewhere, another orphanage pherhaps, and I'll be alone once again.

Alone, unwanted, and unloved.

With these thoughts floating around in my head I let myself fall into an uneasy sleep.

xXx

A/n

I just finished another requested story which will be up tomorrow after I'm done with school.

Thanks for all the likes you guys!! Comment if you want to say anything and hopefully you'll find this storyline interesting. Ty!!! 💙😘

[kisskissbanggang]

The Sabotage of Simkung House - Part 3

[Stray Kids Multi Fic - 20Min Read/5.8K Words - Hyunjin x Female Reader - Non-Idol!au, Variety!au - NSFW/Smut, Plot - Reverse Harems, Variety Shows, Unfolding Plot, Panty Stealing, Noona Kink, Femdom, Brat Taming, Dom/Sub Elements, Secret Hook-Ups]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Masterlist | Feedback

Hyunjin was a troublemaker. You hadn’t noticed it before, but it was abundantly clear now that you were finally taking a morning to make up the beds. The boys were expectedly possessive of their rooms as they were their only “private” spaces on set, but with each passing day you could tell at least two of the three bedrooms were growing musky, the worst of which belonged to the two youngest cast members. They clearly weren’t cleaning, and they clearly weren't giving you all their laundry. In fact, only a couple of the cast were giving you everything. Minho and Changbin were currently taking turns setting their laundry downstairs for you from their shared room, and those were the only pairs of socks and underwear you’d seen since filming began. Clearly, the other boys were doing half their own laundry. Whether from pride or privacy, you have no clue, but, nonetheless, this allowed an opportunity for Hyunjin to account for one pair of your missing panties, laid out perfectly flat under his pillow. 

It was suspicious. The panties were still clean, still smelling of laundry soap with no hints of debauchery other than the fact that they currently weren’t in your own room. In fact, you’d found them solely because a hint of lace had peeked out from under Hyunjin’s pillow. You were meant to see this. So what were you to do? You set about cleaning the rest of the room, the lion’s share of the mess belonging to Jisung, and set about formulating your game plan.

You tugged and patted the sheets on Jisung's bed flat, instantly satisfied as the room looked better overall, even with just the beds made, when you nearly tripped on a pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. Another peek of lace was barely noticeable in the tangle of clothes. You gently pried the rest of the pile up, not wanting to disturb where the panties had been left, just like you left the pair Hyunjin stole supposedly untouched under his pillow. These, however, were decidedly used. You weren’t disgusted -- it wasn’t like the entire pair was a solidified mess -- but the delicate fabric was clearly crumpled and hidden after Jisung had finished being “inspired” by them. Unlike Hyunjin, he absolutely did not want you to find these. 

So the wheels in your head turned a little differently now, perhaps a little more efficiently. Both boys had stolen your panties, but were they working together? You doubted it, considering the two seemed to only tolerate each other's presence on set. The duo constantly bickered, hardly ever studying together or working together for challenges. They only ended up as roommates because Chan got his own room and Minho and Changbin “chose” to room together because they were the next oldest. Otherwise, Jisung detested Hyunjin’s prim and snobbish persona, while Hyunjin constantly picked over Jisung’s perfectionist streak and clumsy tendencies. Nevertheless, yet more reconnaissance needed to be done. 

You headed downstairs, looking busy with your duster and sprucing up as you surreptitiously looked for the boys. They were once again mysteriously missing, before you caught noise down the hall in the study. You neared the door, surprised as it opened almost right into your face. Chan and the other boys stared at you from behind him. 

“Secret meeting?” You chuckled lightly. 

“Studying,” Chan clarified, shrugging past you and into the hall. The boys followed suit, and as Hyunjin passed you, you noticed just how tall he was, but maybe that was because of how he looked right down at you. You looked up through your eyelashes at him in time to catch his smirk. That energy felt dangerous -- if everything was going to go your way, you had to be in control. That's why Chan wasn't even on your radar aside from avoiding him, and that was definitely why you needed to take your time and be careful around Hyunjin for now. You turned to leave, pausing as you noticed Jisung still inside, still sitting in the large easy chair by the tall shelves lining the walls.

Really, you hadn't been able to get much of a read on Jisung. He'd been quiet the first couple days of filming, but once he warmed up to the cast he wouldn't shut up. That is, except for you and the other staff cast and even a good chunk of the crew. Jisung barely looked up from the book he was holding as he continued to scribble notes in his lap, eyeing you carefully as you casually entered the room and went about dusting and sprucing up. You tried to think of something, anything to break the ice, when you finally noticed what he was reading. The wheels cranked in your head. 

“Is that… Is that 3.5 edition?” You asked curiously, tilting your head to see the cover better. Jisung jolted, surprised at your attention and drawing his knees up just the smallest bit, as if he was covering up from your prying eyes. You chuckled apologetically. “Sorry, I couldn't help but notice. Why not 5th edition? Don't you like the balancing?”

“You play, noona?” He asked warily. He adjusted his glasses on his nose before pulling them off altogether and habitually nibbling on the end of the plastic arm. You shrugged, as if establishing any sort of familiarity with him wasn't imperative to make your plan happen. 

“Sure. It's been a long time, but I play.”

You didn't. You'd had a short-lived stint with a DM just after college, back when you used to hustle for spare cash, who allowed you to sit in on his planning and play sessions, but you'd learned he was frankly terrible at it when you consulted his manuals yourself. Your friend Duckie had teased you relentlessly for days for letting a neckbeard relegate you to arm candy, and you frankly never lived it down between the two of you. 

Jisung sighed and set the manual closed on his lap. It looked like you'd been granted an answer. “Somehow, I mentioned tabletop gaming once and the guys all pushed it because none of them have tried it, and I said no, so the producers told me this morning that we're doing it, so we're doing it. Setting up a one-shot on short notice is a nightmare, so I grabbed my manual. I only brought it because I'm developing my campaign to pick back up when filming is over.”

You smiled sympathetically as you continued dusting. “Are they doing their own character sheets?”

“Oh, god, no,”Jisung laughed, shaking his head. He really was cute. You just wished you didn't also know his room was a damn mess and that he was a panty thief. “I'm doing it for them and I'm trying to make this whole thing easy.”

“That's really cool,” you said sincerely as you continued cleaning, silently applauding the bashful blush in his cheeks, “it sounds like you really know what you're doing.”

“Thanks, noona,” he replied meekly. Jisung watched as you accidentally flung a cloud of dust off a high shelf and you looked up, sputtering and coughing as you caught a glimpse of the offender: a large vase, its gleam dulled by dust. You hopped at it, trying to reach the vase with your duster. 

“Jisung,” you called over your shoulder, “can you please help me reach this?” Jisung nodded, setting his book and notes down as he got up. He strode over, sizing you up against the bookshelves before he simply grabbed your duster from your hands and did it himself. You leaned against the bookshelf, between the hardwood and him, watching him and deciding now was as good a time as any to plant a seed. 

“Jisung,” you began, catching his eyes comically widening as he noticed how close you were, “be careful when you take care of your own laundry, alright? I noticed I was missing some things so I'd hate to think you boys are getting all your laundry mixed up.”

His hand wavered where he was intently dusting, almost damn near knocking over the vase. You scanned the room: there were three more vases just like this. “You're missing some things, noona?”

You nodded. “Weird, right? I'd die if something of mine ended up in one of your baskets by accident,” you laughed, startled as Jisung quickly finished and handed you back your duster. 

“Really weird, noona, I hope you find your stuff,” he babbled as he scrambled back to the other side of the room and grabbed his things from his chair, “wouldn’t it be easier for you to reach if you had a stepstool? I swear I saw one in the hall closet. I’ll just go get it for you--”

And he was out the door, walking more like a sprint down the hallway. You stared, your developing plans dashed. Jisung didn't return. It wasn't like you waited a crazy amount of time, but more than enough that you knew you'd scared him off instead of inviting him. Nevertheless, a plan was still forming -- Jisung was more nervous than he let on, but that didn't mean he couldn't be encouraged.

You worked your way through the house, cleaning and taking care of chores when you noticed some dishes outside on the patio table. Sliding open the glass door, you set about picking up dishes when you heard a quiet snicker behind you. You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts that a surprised gasp escaped you before you could even whip around and promptly land on your ass, unaware that you hadn't been alone. Even though you hadn't seen anyone out here at first, the large house opened up to its patio from the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen, but each door and window seemed to have their own blind spots, apparently. You looked up to see Hyunjin smirking to himself as he read a book, reclined on a lounge chair in the warm afternoon sun. He looked up, an amused grin spread on his face as he set his book down and trotted over to offer you a hand up. 

“I'm sorry, noona, did I surprise you?”

You sighed with a laugh as you dusted yourself off. “A little, Hyunjin, but I'm alright.”

“I'm glad. Actually, noona, while I have you here, can I ask you a question?” It wasn't surprising that Hyunjin was so cordial and charming -- dashing, even -- but you didn't trust it at this moment. Something in his smile was mischievous. Nonetheless, you nodded. “What did you study in school?”

“Who says I went to school?” You smirked. 

“Chan-hyung,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “He mentioned you seemed much smarter than you let on. I figured you’ve just been modest.”

Holy shit, you pondered, hoping Hyunjin wasn’t noticing your hard blink, what kind of conspiracy has he been building? By now it felt apparent that Chan wasn’t just concerned with you trying to sleep with him or any of the cast for that matter. This wasn’t just playing aloof or hard to get, he actively appeared to despise you. 

“I’m just wondering because I was curious how your family feels about your acting.” Hyunjin continued, pulling you out of your plotting. 

“Well then, yes,” you sighed, “I went to school. And not for acting. And my family doesn’t know. I mean, they know I'm interested and enjoy it, but they don’t know everything.” That was true. Your family knew you’d taken bit parts in dramas and commercials, but they had no idea about the show and certainly no idea about your more known acting credits. Why should they fall victim to that inevitable disappointment?

“Ah,” Hyunjin shook his head with a reluctant laugh, “then maybe there’s no hope for me.”

“So your parents don’t know?”

“Of course not!” He chuckled. “My father is a lawyer and my mother is an architect. Guess how I disappointed both of them?” He waited for your patient shrug. “Studying statistical psychology. I loved it, and they hated that I loved it. So I joined the theatre club at school on a whim to start taking my mind off switching majors, try something new, and now I love this. So they definitely can’t know about that either, or they’ll take it away, too.”

“I’m sorry you have to hide this special thing from your parents,” you sympathized as you resumed stacking dishes on the patio table. In your own way, you truly did understand where Hyunjin was coming from -- it was exciting to be proud of your path, but it always hurt to hide it from people you loved. 

“It’s alright,” Hyunjin sighed with a small smile. “If I can be candid, noona, that’s what sort of drew me to you. I was thinking of school and home, and you reminded me of someone, a mentor I had back in the theatre club.”

“Oh yeah?” You humored him, eyeing his feet when he stepped closer. You took a cautious step back.

“Definitely,” he nodded, stepping forward again. “She had this quiet air that she knew plenty more than she let on.”

“Must’ve been a great teacher,” you placated, taking another step back with your stack of dishes. Hyunjin pressed forward once again, his toes only inches from yours. 

“She was,” he smirked, “She taught me everything I know.”

You took a firm step back towards the door and Hyunjin stopped in his tracks the moment your fingers touched the handle. “I’m sorry I interrupted you,” you smiled demurely, “I should get back to work.”

“Noona,” he called after you, his playful tone making you stop in the middle of you turning into the opened door, “I meant to tell you something. Be mindful of the laundry, please; I noticed some things in my basket that don't belong to me.”

You stepped through the door and briskly rushed into the kitchen to tend to the dishes, thrusting your hands under the hot water as you vigorously scrubbed. That tricky little pervert. 

The fact that Hyunjin could knock you off center like that was troubling. You would never feel confident about your progress if you let him take control like that again.

You began your next morning with a fire in you, ready to make the progress you were too off-kilter to make the previous day. This meant, of course, fetching something from Hyunjin’s room. 

The hall to the boys’ rooms was silent as you neared Hyunjin’s door, the cast all outside working out and doing yoga, so you simply turned the knob and walked inside. 

Your sharp gasp matched Jisung’s as he promptly fell off the bed, cocooned in his blanket. 

“Jisung, I'm so sorry!” You blurted from under your hands covering your eyes, “I thought you were outside with the others!” 

“Noona!” Jisung groaned as he unfolded himself from the floor. A cursory glance through your fingers let you notice the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed had been dismantled. “I was still sleeping! I thought the others were still getting ready.” Sure enough, Jisung freed himself from his blanket but deftly snuck his hand underneath to adjust himself as you finally released your eyes. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I've been making the beds and grabbing your laundry in the morning now,” you sighed, “some of you boys are pretty messy.”

Jisung looked at his half of the room, littered in socks and books and notes, and his cheeks reddened even more. He watched as you helped yourself to fixing Hyunjin’s bed, surreptitiously snatching your panties from under his pillow and shoving them in your apron as you patted the sheets flat. You whirled around, trying to match Jisung’s level of flustered as you apologized. 

“I'm sorry for waking you up,” you said sheepishly, “I'll let the others know you’re coming.”

You rushed out of the room just as he did from the study the day before and set about the rest of your day once you were out of sight before Seungmin caught up with you. “Not working out today, noona?”

“Afraid not, Min,” you smiled warmly, “lots to do.”

“Are you making the beds now, too? Hyunjin mentioned it this morning.”

You nodded as you continued down the hall. “Why not? Their rooms could use some tidying. It’s small but it’s helpful.”

“That’s very considerate of you noona, let me know if you need anything.” Seungmin smiled and waved goodbye as he headed back up one more level to the attic. 

Your plan was exceedingly simple: you would ignore Hyunjin for a whole day -- and more, if he could manage -- before making any forward moves, except for one. He'd been so readily forward with you that it seemed reasonable to predict that this was Hyunjin’s usual tactic, to be handsome and dashing and silver-tongued enough to easily land any of his conquests. Really, that was probably why he turned to AV’s in the first place. With how he looked at you, he thought you were putty in his hands and, frankly, the assumption drove you crazy. 

What you didn't expect, however, was for your simple plan to be instantly effective. After scampering away to tell the boys Jisung was on his way downstairs, it was easy to pay more attention to Changbin and Minho -- who easily smiled and joked and socialized with you whenever you were around now -- even with Chan eyeing you suspiciously in the corner. You barely regarded Hyunjin’s attempt to give you a knowing look. It wasn’t like you could flat-out ignore him right off the bat. He had to notice. You were careful to not look sheepish or bashful when you did make eye contact, wanting to be sure to make him feel more conflicted about his previous perception of you. 

That afternoon, while you waited off to the side during filming, you brushed right past Hyunjin’s sly smile and sauntered up to Changbin again, playfully patting down a strand of hair that had fallen out of place. Hyunjin’s attention was piqued as you doled out all this personal attention to almost anyone except him over the course of the day, and you applauded yourself as you saw him try more and more to get in your eyeline. Later, during a break, he caught you hanging out with Minho in the kitchen, fiddling with his earrings. 

“I didn’t know your ears were pierced,” you cutely prodded, dutifully ignoring Hyunjin as he hung out near the fridge and close to your conversation. Minho jumped and grabbed at them. 

“I forgot I had them on!” He jovially whined. “Oh my god I've had them on all day, I'm surprised I didn't get reamed for this.”

“I do, too. Almost all of us have our ears pierced,” Hyunjin interjected, “Chan-hyung isn’t even--”

“You hide your earrings?” You asked Minho curiously. Hyunjin silently steamed on the other side of the kitchen. 

“Of course,” Minho nodded, “they signed us to look studious. None of us are supposed to look super cool or anything.”

“That’s too bad,” you pouted, “they look good on you.” You checked the time on your phone and stretched out a little. “Shouldn’t we be getting back?” The boys both nodded, but you still only looked at Minho and followed him out, passing by Hyunjin looking almost offended at how you could dare ignore him. You brushed past, surreptitiously slipping the reclaimed pair of panties out of your apron and into Hyunjin’s blazer pocket on your way out the door and down the hall. 

Finally, at the end of formal filming for the day, you headed upstairs to return your pages once the crew cleared out. You made sure your mic was unclipped and back in its cradle, and checked the big calendar hung on the wall for any big developments in the daytime show for the week when a creak on the stairs startled you. Looking up, you were faced with Chan staring at you from the door. 

“Looking for something?” You asked casually.

“No, just you,” he said as he stepped into the room. “What’s your angle here?”

“Angle?”

“Don’t be dumb,” Chan shook his head, “what are you trying to do here? I've been watching you all day, all week -- you’re doing something more than just the show.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you carefully fired back, “so I’d appreciate it if you’d care to explain where you got these big presumptions from.”

“Come on! All this extra screentime?” Chan reeled as he quietly shut the attic door behind him. “Look, I don’t know how many of the guys recognize you, but I do, alright? I didn’t think you were taking a break to try and make it big, and if I had thought you were then I definitely wouldn't have expected to see you here. What are you doing? Are you trying to get attention from other producers watching the show?”

You stared back, arms folded indignantly. “What, am I not good enough?”

“No, it’s not that,” he babbled, “I just know--”

“Frankly, I don’t give a shit what you know,” you snapped, “and I definitely don't appreciate you trying to accuse me of trying to get anything more than what I signed for. Sorry if it seems like I'm fighting for more screentime.” You turned your nose up, bumping past Chan on your way back downstairs. Honestly, getting him was going to be the most grueling part of this whole concept. You quickly texted Felix when you escaped to your room.

> How many of the guys know who I am?

>> None, but who doesn’t lie about watching porn?

>Can I get a meeting? I'm feeling pretty antsy. 

>>Sorry Shining Star, emergencies only. Gotta preserve the atmosphere. But I'll let the Big Boss know how you’re feeling. You got this. 

You sighed, feeling a bit ruffled with how weird this was getting. Would tonight be a good night for a break? You figured if there would be any, then it would be tonight, just trying to get your head back in order and ready to tackle everything the next day. Some dinner and then bed and you would be good to go. 

Passing through the main floor to the kitchen, you heard a commotion coming from the study. Thinking back, this was probably the night of Jisung’s campaign. In a small way, you were excited for him, hoping all the guys were being open and receptive and having fun. A hand shot out from around the corner, startling you and pulling you into the alcove of the dining room door.   Hyunjin’s lips were on yours the moment he pulled you against him where he was pressed against the wall, his tongue hot in your mouth and his exhales almost resembling low groans as he kissed you. Your fists beat against his chest to push him back. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You demanded, your hushed tone still sharp against his mischievous grin. 

“You know, beautiful, I loved my surprise but it's not a present if I stole them in the first place. Maybe I can get a replacement?”

“You mean ‘noona,’” you growled, “and is that supposed to work on me?” The quixotic sparkle in Hyunjin’s eye disappeared. 

“You're a bit of a bitch, noona, you know that?”

His glare shattered as you laughed meanly at him. “And you're a bit of a brat. Boys like you only call women bitches when they can't get what they want.”

“Well, as a big fan, maybe I just wanted what I've been fantasizing about.” Hyunjin stared hard at you, challenging you with his admission, the hungry edge to his look remaining even as he was surprised to see you relax in his grip. His eyes widened for just a moment as you gently cupped his face, but both your expressions changed when you pinched his pierced earlobe and tugged him close. You smiled at his shock as you punted open the swinging dining room door and dragged Hyunjin inside like a guilty schoolboy. Approaching the handsome dining table, you yanked him down to bend over it as you searched his blazer pockets, savoring his struggling grunts. 

“So you recognized me on the first day?” You interrogated. 

“Yes,” Hyunjin laughed against the table, “I couldn't believe I was so lucky.”

“Then what exactly have you been fantasizing about?”

“I just want to see for myself,” he smirked, “see if you're as sexy in real life. I want to see if you really cum like that. Didn't expect you to be so rough.”

“I'm only rough with brats who think they can just take me,” you reviled as you found what you were looking for. You reached a foot over to slide out a chair before twisting him around to push him onto it. Hyunjin looked up at you expectantly as you stood, the panties you grabbed balled in one fist on your hip, your other hand reaching to play with his earrings again. “You didn't tell me you had pierced ears,” you provokingly laughed as he agitatedly tried to smack your hand away. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“God, you really are such a bitch,” Hyunjin grimaced. 

“Not much of a prince off-camera, are you?” You sneered, tugging on his ear again and taking notice that even while Hyunjin tried to stop that, he hadn't made any other attempts to make you leave him alone or stop you. He still looked up at you, anticipating your next move. 

“Come on, baby,” he laughed breathlessly, “you don’t -- hey!”

Hyunjin gasped as you tugged on the collar of his shirt, slung the panties in your hand over his head, and down around his neck. Twisting the fabric in your fist as you pulled him close, you had a chance to tangle your fingers into his hair, firmly yanking him back against your hold. He watched, eyes glued to you as you manhandled him to sit up straight in the chair. 

“Manners, brat,” you smirked, “you're supposed to respect your elders.”

“Noona, I --” Hyunjin yelped as you stepped between his feet, one of your knees raised to rest on his cock, hard in his slacks. 

“So close, but you're still so dumb. Apologize first.”

“I’m sorry, noona,” he gulped, his quiet plea dry and cautious. “I want you so much.”

“Is that why you ambushed me like a little pervert?” You scolded him, only pulling back on the attitude once you saw a shine of intimidation in his eyes. “Hyunjin,” you soothed, letting go of your improvised hold around his neck to cup his face, “I can stop.”

And Hyunjin smirked as he shook his head, the saccharine smile coming right back. Atta boy. “No, noona, I ‘ambushed’ you because I knew I could.”

“Disgusting,” you grinned, “I bet you wouldn’t even know what to do with me if you had me.”

Hyunjin got up now, pushing you back and standing over you as he herded you onto the dinner table. 

“You think so?” He challenged arrogantly as his eager hands shoved your skirt up around your hips. 

“I know so, brat,” you laughed as you smacked his hands off of you. He gasped out a moan as you groped his erection through his slacks. “I bet you don't even know how to use this. Any trust fund baby you’ve fucked has probably worshipped it without knowing any better.”

“Then let me show you,” he insisted through gritted teeth, quickly unzipping and exposing his long cock in his grip. You hazarded a glance -- an open mistake, judging by Hyunjin’s valiantly cocky grin. “Don’t you like it? Don’t you want it, noona?”

“God, you’re so insufferable,” you rolled your eyes as you watched him brazenly stroke his length, “you’ve never had someone refuse you, have you?”

“Never,” he smiled, “and I'm not about to start.” Hyunjin made a boldly stupid move as he got his hands under your thighs to pull you against him where you sat back on the table, only apparent to him once you shoved a foot in his way to hold him off of you. 

“You think you deserve it?” You raised a dubious eyebrow at him, catching his eyes glued to your breasts as you slowly unbuttoned your blouse and revealed the lace bra underneath. He gulped, barely nodding as you raised the hem of your skirt just a little more, showing off the matching panties barely covering your damp pussy. “Say it, stupid, if you’re so sure of yourself.”

“I deserve it, noona,” Hyunjin breathed, pushing against your foot digging into his hip. He watched as you slowly let him fall against you, a deep groan erupting from his throat as the head of his cock prodded against your entrance. 

“Prove it,” you demanded, and let Hyunjin sink into you as you gripped onto the panties around his neck once again. Hyunjin exhaled hard at the sensation of your depths squeezing his length, and you held back from reacting for him with every fiber of your being. 

In truth, Hyunjin's cock felt amazing, and his moans sounded so sweet in your ear as he fucked you on the dinner table. That was the real difference you were noticing -- Hyunjin had almost no inhibitions about his own moans, they were nearly unabashed as he thrust into you, and you could feel every nuance in tandem with his wandering hands on your breasts or in your hair or gripping onto your ass. Honestly, if he wanted to pursue this, he could probably make a decent living with AV’s. You admired the way he could enter this headspace on camera, could be this vulnerable even when you weren’t truly alone. 

“How is it?” You purred, forcing yourself out of your reverie. 

“It's perfect,” Hyunjin spat, his hips still thrusting hard enough against you to make the dining table rock and creak. “Isn't it?”

“Well, I'm not too sure,” you teasingly sighed. 

“What?! Why the fuck not?” 

“All this work and no extra effort to make me cum,” you shrugged with a smile, “you are convincing me to look into selling sex toys, though.”

“You're a rotten bitch,” Hyunjin growled under his breath. 

“And you're a spoiled brat,” you smirked as you leaned up to kiss his lips, noting when he did nothing but kiss back and take your continuous bait. “You said you deserve it but you haven't proven it yet.”

Hyunjin scoffed and dragged his lips to your neck, to the crook of your shoulder exposed by your open blouse, his teeth finding purchase and clamping down. His cock surged within you as you finally let out a tepid moan. He stood up straight, looking renewed at the small reward you supplied. The wheels in his head visibly turned as he started looking for more ways to make you moan and gasp for him, finally leaning you back on the table to stroke your clit with the pad of his thumb with one of your ankles slung over his shoulder. His moans grew more ragged as yours grew more intense, and your fingers gripped on the panties wrapped around Hyunjin’s neck like a leash. “Say it,” he pleaded. 

“Say what, brat?” You mewled. 

“Tell me I deserve it. Tell me I'm going to make you cum.”

“Hyunjin,” you nodded desperately, catching his attention and making him buck harder into you, “you’re going to make me cum.” 

“And I deserve it?”

“Yes,” you gasped, “you deserve it.”

And just at the utterance of those words, Hyunjin gripped your hips hard as he came, beating you by just a second as you cried out and clutched onto his hands. 

Hyunjin collapsed onto you, breathing hard, his hair smelling of conditioner and sweat as he recovered, and you absently caught yourself rubbing his back before you snatched your hand back. You eased him out of you and pushed him back onto the chair you’d pulled out and he slouched, boneless and dazed. He barely noticed as you sat up and tugged off your scant panties. 

“What a lucky fan,” you simpered as you got up, setting these around his neck before plucking off the stolen pair. You leaned down, pressing your lips to his temple as you slipped on the clean panties under your skirt and smoothed it out. “Did your mentor teach you that?”

Hyunjin shook his head with a breathless smile. “No, but I'm a quick learner.” He squeezed your hand that had somehow landed on his shoulder as he glanced down at the garment strung around his neck. “What’re these for?”

“You deserve them,” you laughed, “now don’t make things weird around set.”

“Or what? We’ll have to do this again?” Hyunjin playfully challenged as you pushed open the swinging door. “Who knows, maybe I'll quit acting and start doing what you do. Maybe teach you a thing or two.”

You left, but something about Hyunjin’s comment ate at you as you descended the stairs. That is, until you noticed Chan poking his head into the laundry room. You quietly approached before giving a polite cough behind him, making him jump. 

“Noona!” Chan exclaimed, a small bundle of laundry in his arms. “I was, er, looking for you. I was wondering if you’d seen Hyunjin. He left to get something to eat after he got killed off in Jisung’s campaign.”

“Hyunjin was feeling a bit worn out,” you improvised. “He’s upstairs sleeping. Didn’t you check up there?”

Chan shifted uncomfortably, “Of course. The lights were off, though, so I must not have seen him.”

“Right,” you nodded dubiously, eyeing the small bundle of laundry in Chan’s hands, “is that for me?”

“What, this? Uh, of course, that’s why I was looking for you.”

You bluntly grabbed the clothes out of Chan’s hands and stepped around him into the laundry room. “Thank you for bringing your clothes down. Goodnight, Chan,” you nodded tersely. 

“Goodnight, noona.” 

You sighed as you listened for Chan’s footsteps to ascend the stairs before you relaxed onto a footstool in the corner of the small room. Something felt weird. Minho’s comment. Changbin’s comment. Now Hyunjin's comment. Tiny little weird comments were building up and squeezing your stomach into knots. You couldn't talk to the producer, you couldn't talk to Felix, so who could knock some sense into you? Finally, you pulled your phone out of your apron and opened your DM’s, scrolling down to Duckie’s name. His profile picture was new: another in a long line of faceless shots, only now with his defined chest peeking out from an open hoodie and your necklace in plain view. Your stomach squeezed again. It'd been weeks since you talked by now. 

>Hey, you free right now?

>>Hey! I was wondering where you are. I'm free I'm just relaxing after work.

>You ever get a really weird feeling on a set?

>>Weird like what?

[To be continued.]

[shhh-no-ones-home]

restless vinny mauro x reader

+++++++++

a sick fic just seemed like it would be cute so here ya go and hopefully all you lovelies are doing well <3

Song: when you close your eyes by morrissey

tag list: @alilpunkrock @cynic-spirit @theoneandonlykymberlee @svintsandghosts @thisplace-ishaunted @joeybarber @musicsexandpizza69 @ryansitkowskiswifey +++++++++ I stared at the framed shirt in front of me on the wall, the blanket around my shoulders hitting my leg. In big letters it read "Mauro" on the back. I sighed, sneezing again and rubbing my tired eyes. As soon as Vinny found out I was sick he was adamant I stay with him. He said he wanted to make sure I was safe and taken care of. I don't blame him though, last time I got sick I didn't eat or drink anything for three days and he had to take me to the hospital because I was dehydrated.

"I got your fave-"

He paused, me turning to look at him standing in the doorway of the loft.

"You're up."

He said surprised. I'd been in bed too long already and was starting to get antsy.

"Uh yeah, vin. I was tired of laying down."

He nodded.

"That's okay. I brought food, you can eat at my desk."

He set it down and spun his chair around for me to sit in.

"Thanks baby."

I said through a sniffle, wrapping the blanket tighter around my body. He leaned down and tried to kiss me but I pulled away. His kiss landed on my cheek instead and he just frowned at me.

"Babe."

He whined and I shook my head no at him as I sat.

"I know you wanna take care of me but I am not getting you sick."

He frowned, poking my cheek as I went to take a bite of the grilled cheese he had brought me.

"And how is kissing you any less of a risk than you breathing in my face all night."

I sent him an annoyed look as I tried my hardest to chew with my mouth closed, not being able to breathe.

"I told you I could do this alone and at home."

He knelt down on the ground beside me, folding his arms on the desk and resting his head on top.

"And I told you absolutely not. I wanna take care of you. I wanna cuddle you so you fall asleep easier. And most importantly I wanna see you get better."

I melted a little bit at his words. He really was the best boyfriend. He even made a killer grilled cheese.

"Fine but if you get sick it's not my fault."

I said leaning forward to meet his face. He smiled widely at me before kissing me gently.

"Thank you."

I pulled away from him and took another bite, pulling the sandwich away from my face and going cross eyed trying to watch the cheese pull. He laughed at me as the strings broke.

"Is it good?"

I nodded as I chewed happily.

"Very."

He nodded, rubbing his hands together and standing up.

"Great. I'm glad you're enjoying. Now, what do we want to do when you're done?"

I watching him as he looked around his room for things to do.

"Something low energy?"

I suggested. Well, hoped, actually. He clapped.

"What about a game?"

I raised a brow.

"A game?"

He nodded, walking over to his closet and pulling out a pack of cards and a metal tin.

"Yeah we could play cards, we could play dominos, what sounds good?"

I shrugged, letting the blanket fall from my shoulders.

"A nap?"

He laughed at me.

"You just got up, aren't you the one who said you were tired of laying down?"

I half smiled at him, my eyes watering again before I sneezed.

"Bless you."

He said handing me a tissue and kissing the top of my head.

"Thanks."

I said, more congested than before.

"ooo how about we read?"

he said excitedly. he had been trying desperately to get me to read one of his favorite books but i just didnt have the time or motivation to get into it. maybe this was the time.

"you reading out loud till i fall asleep?"

he nodded quickly, going to his small bookshelf and pulling it out.

"yes ma'am."

i finished the sandwich and turned around in the chair to face him. he tossed the book onto the bed before walking over to me and picking me up. i squealed and untangled my arms, wrapping them around his neck tightly.

"vinny put me down!"

i protested, making him laugh.

"back to bed baby."

he joked, dropping me into the pile of pillows. i pouted at him as he crawled over me and grabbed the book.

"get comfortable. youre gonna love this."

i sent him a look, studying his large smile and shaking my head.

"fine."

i unwrapped myself from the blanket and draped it over both of us, scooting deep into the pillows and resting my head on his chest.

"i dont think im gonna get very far into this vin."

i said, yawning and feeling my eyes get heavy. he kissed the top of my head.

"thats okay, itll give me something to do till you get back up."

i half smiled to myself as he flipped the book open. i blinked slowly before closing my eyes and humming.

"you ready?"

i hummed in response before falling asleep against him. so much for getting into the book.

[lovemesomesurveys]

1. Do you like having your picture taken? No.

2. Have you ever done a photo shoot, professional or non? I’ve had pictures taken at photo studios and I have a cousin who’s a photographer that did my college graduation photos.

3. If you could go anywhere in the world where would you go and why? I mean, nowhere right now. BUT, there’s a lot of places I’d love to visit one day. Various countries and places here in the US. I just want to be able to travel a lot one day.

4. Who would you take with you on this little adventure? My family.

5. What would you say is the most daring thing to do in a lifetime? That’s going to be different for everyone of course, but basically something that pushes you out of your comfort zone. Conquering a fear.

6. Would you ever do that? I don’t know. 

7. Have you ever done crossword puzzles? Yeah. I much prefer word searches, though.

8. Ever actually completed one? Yeah.

9. Pick up the closest book and write a sentence at random from it. There isn’t a book near me.

10. Do the same with a lyric from either a cd or the radio. Nah.

11. Have you ever tried to analyze your own dreams? Yeah, many times. I’ve tried to look up what some things symbolize and what it might mean for me. 

12. Would you put up posters in your room? Yeah. I have some things hung up. 

13. Can you sing? I can’t sing well at all. I wish.

14. Do you ever sing to yourself while doing everyday tasks? Yes.

15. What's your favorite color of post-it note? Pink.

16. How many cassette tapes do you own? Zero.

17. How many cd's do you own? I don’t have any CDs anymore.

18. Ever bought a cd for just one song? I probably have. 

19. What would your perfect day consist of? Beach days are nice. Or since it’s winter, renting a cozy cabin in the snow sounds lovely.

20. Have you ever lied to get off the phone or out of talking to someone online? Yes.

21. Have you ever written a survey? Once. It was several years ago during the Xanga days. I wish I still had it saved.

22. How about a song? If so share it. No.

23. Or maybe a poem? If so share it or one of them. I dabbled with poetry when I was 16. I am definitely not sharing one, they’re super cringey.

24. Is your vcr flashing 12:00 all the time? I don’t have a VCR. Wow, cassette tapes and VCRs how old is this survey?

25. Do you read your horoscope? No.

26. If so, do you base your day on it? No, I’ve never been into astrology. I used to read it when I was younger like in an magazine, but it was always just for fun.

27. Would you rather chew gum or use mouthwash and why? Chew gum. Mouthwash is way too strong to me and I find it irritating for my mouth and yeah it’s just not a pleasant experience.

28. Do you floss? No. :X

29. Are you addicted to napster like me? Okay, now you’ve mentioned Napster so this survey is super old. Napster was like late 90s and early 2000s. 

30. How many times a year about are you sick? I rarely get things like a cold, which I find interesting because I feel like my immune system is crap, but I feel sick and crappy often for other reasons.

31. Ever been in an airplane? Yes, a few times.

32. If so where were you flying to? Georgia and back and to Disneyland and back.

33. What radio station to you listen to most? It’s been a few years since I’ve listened to the radio.

34. What color are your shoes? I wear my black Adidas the most.

35. Was fuzzy wuzzy a bear? He was. He had no hair, though, so he wasn’t actually fuzzy.

36. Do you know how to play dominos? I’ve never really played.

37. Or do you think I just mean pizza by that? No, I know what dominos are.

38. Speaking of pizza, what's your favorite kind? (toppings and/or place to get it from) My favorite is from this local place. I like to get white sauce, feta and ricotta cheese, crumbled meatballs, garlic, spinach, and pesto and olive oil drizzles. I’ve been really craving that lately.

39. What color are your eyes? Brown.

40. How many surveys have you filled out this lifetime? Oh pffffft, I am not even going to attempt to figure that out. There’s no way I could. I’ve been doing surveys for so long and sadly so many of them are gone because they were done on Myspace and Xanga. :(

41. Describe your bedroom, include all details. Okay, you want details? Here we go...

It’s small and has way too much stuff. For one thing, there’s giraffe stuffed animals all over, including a 4 ft one in the corner. There’s a dresser by the window that has my TV and Christmas decorations on it. To the right of that is a 6-cube shelf with some of the aforementioned giraffe stuffed animals as well as giraffe knickknacks, some coloring books and coloring supplies, a mini Christmas tree on top, a few more giraffe stuffed animals, a nice picture frame with my dog, Brandie, who passed away, and my BB8 droid I made at Disneyland. Above the shelf is an I Love Lucy wall clock. My closest is nearby and is full of medical supplies, 3-drawer file thing with random stuff I insist on holding onto, my shoes, and all my jackets and sweatshirts. To the left of my dresser is my bookshelf with a lot of books and other figurines and knickknacks of various things I like and hey surprise, surprise, more giraffe stuffed animals! Across from the bookshelf and dresser is my bed, which is also my desk cause I keep my laptop on it, my chargers, my phone, a coloring book, a couple packs of colored pencils, my Bible study stuff, my remotes, and my Nintendo Switch. I have a pile of clothes, too, cause dresser and closet are too full. I have like 8 throw pillows, a body pillow, a back pillow, and a couple actual pillows. I have a few stuffed animals that sit on my bed as well, which are a huge squishmallow giraffe, a small squishmallow pug, a small squishmallow Dumbo, a small squishmallow Baby Yoda/Grogu, and a Baby Yoda/Grogu plushie. To the right of my bed is a TV tray that has my bottles of water, my medicine and pill crusher, a box of straws, a glass, a Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink, chapstick, my wallet, a Zip-loc bag with half a glazed donut and half a chocolate one, and a small bag of shortbread cookies. Behind the TV tray is my 3-drawer bedside table, which has a makeup storage thing on it that I plan on cleaning out and getting rid of cause I don’t wear makeup anymore and could use that space for something else, a bottle of lotion, a couple little room sprays from B&BW, and a jewelry tray. Hung up on my walls around the room are a few giraffe framed paintings, a couple beachy canvas paintings, two Alexander Skarsgard calendars, a bulletin board with various stuff pinned to it, and a marker board. There’s also a hamper in here, a floor lamp, a ceiling fan/light, two fans, and an ottoman.

42. Name one person your life is made better by. My mom. She’s my best friend. 

44. How about someone else's? Huh?

45. Can you do math with ease? Ha, noooo. Me and math never got along.

46. What size is your computer screen? It’s 13.3 inches.

47. If you could only talk to one person online who would that be? Someone from the survey community on here.

48. Name your favorite type of music and why. I like a variety of music--various genres and decades.

49. Are you a vegetarian? No.

50. How about an aspiring actor/actress? Not at all.

51. What famous person dead or alive would you interview if you had the chance? Alexander Skarsgard.

52. Which movie can you watch and say the lines along with the actors? There’s a lot of movies I could do that with. I try not to cause it gets annoying, but it happens.

53. Name one of your passions in life. I don’t know. :/

54. What's your least favorite time of day? Evening time.

55. Who's your favorite member in a band, singer, guitarist, bassist, drummer, and why? The singer, typically.

56. Do you use hairspray or gel? I use neither.

57. Describe your favorite meal. Wingstop’s boneless garlic parm and lemon pepper wings. I also really enjoy my nightly bowl of ramen.

58. What color is the inside of your head when you close your eyes? Black.

59. Ever listen to classical music? Not typically, but it is nice.

60. Have you ever said lol in real life without thinking about it? No.

61. Do you find you use internet language when writing notes irl? I use “wtf, “wth”, “omg”, and “lol.” 

62. What songs would be on your ideal cd? Like I said, I like variety, so a mix of songs.

63. Say one thing you've learned today. Nothing, really.

64. What is the best present you've ever given someone else? I don’t know.

65. What is the best present someone else has ever given to you? I’ve been given many nice gifts throughout my life. I’m appreciative of all the gifts I’ve received.

66. So hey, what's your full name? Stephanie is all you need to know.

67. Describe yourself while drunk. I was chatty and annoying.

68. How big are the windows in your house? Regular, common size? .

69. Do you wear a watch? Nope.

70. What's the kinkiest thing you've ever done with someone else? Nothing.

71. What's the largest age difference between you and someone you've dated? Just a year.

72. How many mirrors do you have? Just one in my room.

73. Write one sentence stating what you want people to say about you after you've passed on. I don’t know, man.

74. Have you ever sailed? Nope.

75. How fast can you run? I used to be able to go pretty fast, but not now. I don’t have the upper body strength or energy I used to have.

76. What do you believe in? I believe in God.

77. How long does it take you to get ready to go out? Not long at all. I just change clothes, quickly do something with my hair, brush my teeth, put on deodorant, put on my shoes, and then grab my bag and mask and go. And a coat if needed.

78. Do you shower daily? If not how often? No, I shower 3-4 times a week.

79. What one thing would you change in your life if you had the power to do so? I’d make it so I had good health.

80. Describe the ideal superpower and what you would do if you had it. Teleportation. I’d travel all over.

81. Are candles romantic or a fire hazard? They can be both.

82. Name something you've done in the last 24hrs no matter how big or small. I had coffee and donuts. Exciting stuff.

83. Do you wear necklaces, bracelets, anklets, earrings, rings? I haven’t worn any in awhile.

84. What colors are you wearing right now? Just black.

85. How often do you change the sheets on your bed? Twice a month.

86. Have you ever gotten lost? Not alone, thankfully, but yeah.

87. What's on your computer desk? I mentioned in the question about my room that my bed is also my desk and I listed the things on it.

88. How many folders are on your desktop at the present moment? Zero.

89. When your talking do you ever use your hands to do quotation marks in the air when saying certain words? Sometimes, if I find it necessary to do so.

90. Which landmark would you climb if you could? None.

91. Do you own or have you read, or thought of reading any self-help books? I read the Chicken Soup For The Soul books when I was younger but that's it. <<< Same.

92. Ever seriously questioned your sanity? Yes. 93. Can you breakdance? No.

94. What's in your fridge right now? Food and drinks. I’m tired from listing everything in that room description question lol.

95. How many people do you live with? I live with 3 people and a doggo.

96. Have you or would you ever do anything more than kiss in a public area? No.

97. What is the strangest thing you've ever done? Uhhh. I don’t know.

98. Name an instrument you've never played but would like to. Guitar.

99. Have you ever been on tv or the radio? Myself, as well as my story, was on TV after my accident happened. 

100. What is the worst thing anyone could ever do to you? Physically hurt me.

101. Are you a fast typer? Yes.

102. How high have you counted before getting bored? I don’t know, but probably not very high. I probably would get to 100 and be over it.

103. Describe how you sleep. (ie. your position and/or how you fall asleep) I sleep slightly propped up and turned to my left side. I have indigestion and post-nasal drip issues, so I can’t sleep flat. I have a whole nighttime routine consists of scrolling through Tumblr, doing surveys, and listening to ASMR until I feel tired enough to fall asleep.

104. Are you straight, bi, gay? I’m straight.

105. Do you ever do something else while on the computer? If so what? Sometimes I’m watching TV.

106. What is the most expensive item you own? My MacBook Air.

107. How about the least expensive? My little knickknacks.

109. What do you do online? Check my social medias, watch YouTube, scroll through Tumblr, and do surveys.

110. Name some stores you've bought clothes in before. Boxlunch, Hot Topic, Kohl’s, JCP, Target, H&M, Macy’s, Forever 21... those are a few that come to mind.

111. Have you ever read a book and not understood it? If so which one? I struggled with mythology. I just couldn’t get into it, so that definitely didn’t help, and it was hard to follow.

112. Have you ever watched a movie and not understood it? If so which one? Yeah. Whenever that happens I jump on Google and read up on it afterwards. 

113. Do people pick up your slang language more than you pick up theirs? I pick up lingo from others most often. 

114. Are you easily influenced by other people, or current trends? No, I wouldn’t say that.

115. What makes you unique in your own opinion? I don’t feel very unique.

116. Name your worst quality. Where to start... .

117. Name your best. I like that I’m open-minded.

118. What would you like to do with your life? I need to get myself together and figure that out.

119. Do you blowdry your hair? Nah.

120. How many clocks are in your house? We have like 3 wall clocks and there’s digital clocks throughout the house on appliances and electronics.

121. Are they all set on the same time? The phones and electronics are. The others are a few minutes fast. My parents set their digital clock like 15 minutes fast.

122. Have you ever intentionally set a clock ahead or behind the actual time? Like I said, we set some of them a few minutes ahead.

123. What do you think about when you first wake up in the morning? "What time is it?"

124. Which browser do you use? Google Chrome.

125. Do you bite your nails? Ugh, I don’t bite them but I pick and clip at them with clippers constantly. 

126. Would you ever leave little notes to your gf/bf? Sure, I think that’s cute.

127. Ever been to a farm? Yes.

128. Tell me about your dream last night. I don't remember. I rarely ever do. What typically happens is I’ll remember when I first get up, but then it like vanishes. My dreams are like Snapchat. If only there was an option to save or screenshot them like Snapchat.

129. Ever seen a shooting star? No, actually.

130. Say one thing about yourself you've never told anyone. Uhhhh. I’m so boring, I can’t think of something interesting to share.

131. Do your days fly by or seem to last forever? It often seems like the days go by slow, but then before I know it it’s already been a whole week again and I’m like wtf it was just Monday? That’s how the years tend to feel, too. There’s definitely some days that just really seem draaaaag, though. And there’s something about January that always feels super long. 

132. Have you ever stayed in a fancy high class rich hotel? Yes. 133. Have you ever stayed in a rent-by-the-hour motel? No.

134. What in your opinion is the best advertising slogan out there? If they get stuck in your head then they’re doing something right. It’s gotta be catchy. Jingles work well.

135. When they start sending rockets to the moon for us civilians, will you be on the list to go? Noooo, absolutely not.

136. How are you feeling right now? Tired, kinda hungry, and lonely.

137. Have you ever written anything on your skin? Yeah.

138. If so what? Random stuff. That was something a lot of people seemed to do in like middle school and high school for some reason.

139. Which website do you frequent most often? Tumblr and YouTube.

140. What color are most of your clothes? Black.

141. Do you own any plants? Nope.

142. Are things as bad as they seem? They sure seem bad to me.

143. Describe the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you. My mom is amazing. She’s sacrificed so much. I’m 31 years old and require aid with some things and here she is still taking care of me and doing so much for me on top of working a full-time job, being a caregiver for a family friend as well, taking care of us as a family and of things at home, and she very rarely has anytime for herself. She’s spread very thin and works so hard and yeah I just could never thank her enough. She’s the absolute best and I would be so lost without her. I couldn’t keep going if it weren’t for her.

144. Ever looked directly at the sun? Yes.

145. Have you ever made a pin hole camera to watch the eclipse? No.

146. What's your favorite cereal? All the main sugary ones, ha.

147. Who do you miss? My loved ones who have passed away.

148. Name something you just can't forget no matter how hard you try. Uh, a lot of things. My mind doesn’t like me to forget things like that. It likes to remind me of them often. Things like that hit at random times as well, like my brain will be like, ‘hey remember when...’ and I’m like, ‘ugh, yes I remember you won’t let me forget.’

149. Describe the worst fight you've ever been in whether physical or verbal. I’ve never been in a physical fight, but there were some verbal ones. I don’t want to get into them right now.

150. Say something else about yourself you've never told anyone before. Noooo. 

[ionlycareaboutyou]

henlo it is me sending u a prompt!! u can pick either pairing that u mentioned i don't mind but can u do them moving in together for the first time, specifically dealing with all the weird quirks + household habits that you discover when you start sharing a space with someone? what odd things do each of them do + what makes the other person annoyed or enamoured? ty ily 💖

hello thank u! i thought i’d do sethon for this one bc it seemed fitting for them! ily 2! this turned out SOOO sappy so i’m sorry if it gives you a toothache fkdajs

cw for smoking and references to sex

After their wedding, they go to Seth’s place right away, skipping the cast and crew after-party to drink wine in bed and kiss, undressing each other slowly and almost carefully. Their lips are stained and bittersweet, and Seth’s delighted to find that Stefon had worn something pretty under his skinny jeans and Ed Hardy shirt.

“I can’t believe I almost let Anderson have this,” Seth half-jokes, mouth hot over the lacy front of Stefon’s panties.

He giggles. “I knew you’d chase after me.”

“Am I that predictable?” Seth quirks an eyebrow, one hand coming up to squeeze and stroke his husband’s inner thigh.

“Mm...not predictable...stubborn,” Stefon replies, then lifts his hips up a bit. “Now, can we please consummate this marriage, Seth Meyers?”

“Is it considered consummating if we’ve done this before marriage?” Fabric is pushed to the side. A kiss is pressed to a sensitive place. A gasp echoes in the room.

“Well--oh--no, I think that just makes us sinners.” Hands thread in between dark hair that’s streaked with silver.

“Sounds about right,” Seth decides, and shuts up from there on out. 

Afterwards, they’re thoroughly exhausted, but manage to keep their eyes open for a little longer, to clean themselves up and brush their teeth side by side. When he looks up in the mirror, Seth is struck at the tender image of them, and he can perfectly picture a future where this is an everyday occasion. 

They slide into bed, legs entwining and lips pressed to jaws, necks, underneath ears. “I want to ask something,” Seth says, before he can forget it and drift off. 

“Mm, ‘kay.”

“You wanna move in with me?” He lets his hands run up Stefon’s chest and over those broad shoulders that have been a subject of maybe ten different fantasies.

Stefon cracks one eye open. “Like, here?”

“‘Course. Where else? I mean, if it’s too soon--”

He gives a light and airy giggle. “We’re married, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are,” Seth replies, a finger trailing up his husband’s neck. “But I’m open to whatever you’d like, I don’t know if you’re really attached to that apartment.”

Stefon doesn’t actually live in a garbage can like he joked about once on Update, but it’s barely a step up from one. Seth had picked him up from the place a few times, and Stefon always claimed that he was barely there, it was a place to sleep every other night if nothing else. It’s a tiny studio above a shady drugstore that keeps odd hours and always has flickering lights. The ceilings are low, and Seth isn’t sure how Stefon manages to get around with his long legs without hitting his head constantly. So it’s not really a surprise when he says, “No, not too attached. I like it here better. My lease is up next month anyway.”

“Good.” He gives him a sleepy smile. “I’ll help you move.”

“Perfect,” Stefon says, and nestles his face into Seth’s neck. They’re asleep within minutes.

--

Stefon doesn’t own too many things, but what he does own is extravagant. The closet in Seth’s--their bedroom is suddenly filled with color. The top row of shirts are a mix of patterns and neon and pastel and strange sayings. The bottom row is filled with button ups in neutral colors: greys and blues and light greens, and maybe a plaid patterned one to switch things up. It’s apparent to anyone whose clothes are whose. The living room is decorated with strange and abstract art that Stefon got from friends. Each tiny sculpture or painting or sketch has a story. Russian and French literature in their original languages joins British literature on the bookshelf. Boots with sequins and heels go next to loafers in the coat closet. Intricate and pretty bongs are not very well hidden in the living room. It’s something that requires adjusting, that’s for sure, but Seth loves it. He loves the color that his husband brings to their home, and his life.

There are other things that require adjustment, too, and they’re a bit harder to adjust to than the new things that clutter their place. Seth knew Stefon kept weird hours, but experiencing it firsthand is another thing. He’ll roll over at 3 AM, open bleary eyes, and find the other side of the bed is empty. Stefon is pacing in the living room, feet light and silent, like some sort of cat. Seth always tells him to come back to sleep and Stefon will tilt his head, eyes half lidded as he nods slowly and waves a hand. He’ll slip between the sheets sometime before the crack of dawn. Seth will sometimes ask in the morning why he woke up, and Stefon will shrug and say “I was just thinking”. It’s something that they’ll work up to, Seth reminds himself.

They find differences that they didn’t notice before. Seth wears socks in the house, often mismatched, and often a point of teasing by his husband. “No one sees them except you!” He insists. “They’re no-shows!” Stefon, on the other hand, wears slippers that slide across the tile floor of the kitchen every morning, or just pads around barefoot with his toes always painted a different color. Bark Ruffalo usually trails behind him.

Stefon has an interesting affinity for healthy vegan food despite not being vegan himself. The freezer has dairy free ice cream (that, Seth has to admit, isn’t so bad) in it, and one week Stefon finds himself on a kale salad kick and eats them for dinner nearly every night. Seth can’t understand the appeal, but Stefon is the one who does most of the grocery shopping, so Seth is just quietly amused by the presence of all the green foods in his pantry and fridge. It doesn’t stop them from drinking sweet wine now and then, or buying a small cake just to buy one and kissing the frosting off the corner of each other’s lips.

Seth quit smoking a few years ago, but sometimes he’ll smell smoke from the balcony of their place, and Stefon will be out there, smoking a long and skinny cigarette and looking over the city. “It’s not good for you,” Seth always says, even though they’ve smoked together plenty of times outside of 30 Rock. 

“I know,” Stefon says, one time. “But I can’t stop giving in to peer pressure. Everyone tells me I won’t be cool if I don’t smoke.” His voice is adjacent to a bad Fonz impression.

Seth kisses his lips, not minding the smoky taste at all. “I thought coming out here while you were smoking would make me crave a smoke, but--”

“Oh, I know what you crave, Seth Meyers. I can see it in your eyes.” They kiss some more, until Seth pulls him inside so they don’t get in trouble for balcony-indecency.

Despite their many differences, there’s things in their life that come together with incredible ease. Their shower schedules match up perfectly; Seth in the morning, Stefon in the evening, but it doesn’t stop them from sharing one every now and then. They still brush their teeth side by side in the morning when they’re both up at the same time, smiling around their toothbrushes when they make eye contact. Sometimes Stefon will prefer to languish in bed while Seth gets ready for the day, but he stays awake until Seth leaves so he can give him a goodbye kiss.

Within weeks, they’ve “christened” every room of their place, and found out countless things about each other, and they’ve had moments where they’ve been frustrated and they’ve needed time apart, for just a few hours. But they always come back, they always curl into bed at the end of the day, closely intertwined with their dog at the foot of the bed. Lips will press against lips, jaws, ears, foreheads. It doesn’t feel like the first time every time, rather, it feels better than the first time. There’s new things to discover and fall in love with and laugh about together every day.

[thebumblingbee]

My Goals for 2020

I thought that I’d share what my goals are for 2020. I don’t like the word “resolution”, I feel like it is always associated with failure. So I opt for goals. I also like to set more concrete goals that can be measured pretty tangibly. So, here are my 14 goals for 2020:

1. Read 26 books- One book every 2 weeks. I have almost as many unread books on my bookshelf already. I love to read, so I wanted to make sure I carve out plenty of time to do so in the new year.

2. Pass the CGC test with Atlas- For those that don’t know, Atlas is my dog (and the light of my life). One of my favorite pastimes is to work on training with him. I would LOVE to pass the AKC Canine Good Citizen test with him. He already knows most of the skills, we just need to brush up on a few things to pass with flying colors!

3. Take cello lessons- I played cello for about 10 years, all through middle and high school. During my first year of university, the teacher who taught me everything I know passed away suddenly from a stroke. Since then, I’ve found it very hard to pick up my instrument. I feel like I have no purpose when I play now. So, I would like to start lessons so that I have something to work for. I really miss playing.

4. Take a cooking class- My grandmother was a cook for many years, so I have a lot of cooking knowledge already. I just want to improve my technique and learn some new skills. In university, the French club that I was a part of took a cooking class one night, and it was one of the most fun things I’ve ever done.

5. Keep a sourdough starter alive- I am very comfortable making yeast dough at this point in my baking life. But sourdough is a whole new beast. Sourdough bread is my favorite, so I would love to be able to make some at home.

6. Go dairy free (and be okay with it)- I’m lactose intolerant. Like, very lactose intolerant. For the most part, I avoid dairy. But sometimes I just really want pizza or ice cream. And I pay for it every time. I would love to go dairy free to stop causing myself unnecessary pain, but I would also like to be emotionally okay with it. Life is no fun if you feel like you are depriving yourself of your favorite things.

7. Plan a vacation for 2021- I am notoriously bad at taking breaks from work. I want to plan an awesome vacation where my dog and I can just go hiking in peace for a few days. And this will give me time to save up the money.

8. Practice Duolingo 300/365 days this year- I took French classes for 4 years throughout school. I’m not going to force myself to practice every day (also I’m very forgetful), but I would like to practice more days than not.

9. Cull the closet- I have so many things that I don’t wear, so I’d like to clear out my closet so it only contains things that I love and that are in good condition (and I’ll be donating everything else, of course). 

10. Go to a concert- Rock concert, orchestra concert, I’m not picky. All I know is that I am at my happiest when I am around live music.

11. Create a nighttime routine- I have a pretty solid morning routine, but most nights are spent putzing around on my phone for two hours before going to bed. I’d like to have a routine to follow so maybe I can sleep a little easier.

12. Go to a museum- Just like live music, I am happiest when experiencing culture. I’m not picky about what kind of museum, but I do want to spend a day experiencing something new.

13. Pay off 50% of my debt- Between the emergency vet for Atlas and my car breaking down, I have a ridiculous amount of debt from 2019. I would like to get at least half of that paid off this year (ideally all of it, but that feels like too lofty of a goal). 

14. Be kind to myself- This is the least tangible item on my list. But I wanted to use this to include both physical and mental health. I want to be kind to both my body and my mind. I want to clean up my eating and my exercise routine, but I don’t want to do that at the expense of my mental health.

There are all of my goals for 2020. Let me know if you guys have any goals that you’d like to share!!

[dirtyahs]

What Are We? (Tate Langdon x Reader)

HELLO IM BACK JESUS CHRIST IM SORRY IVE BEEN SO ABSENT LIFE IS KIND OF KICKING MY ASS BUT IM DOING MY BEST!! I LOVE ALL OF U FOR BEING SO KIND AND PATIENT <3

This was requested by my pal @stellaholland i luv u so much bby i hope u enjoy :,)

Word Count: 4,814

Warnings: unprotected sex, teasing (sexual and nonsexual), kinda fluffy at the end! (take that lightly, i dont write fluff well lmfao)

   You stood in front of your closet, continuously searching through the clothes as if something new was going to appear. You pulled a black skater dress off of the hanger and slipped it over your head, looking in your mirror, only half satisfied with the way it looked.    "You're just trying on the same dress in different colors, it's not that hard to pick one." You jumped when you heard a voice behind you, turning around to see none other than Tate. Your family had moved into the house about seven months ago. Both your mother and father were some kind of twisted horror fanatics, so they purchased the house knowing full well you'd be the owners of "Murder House." It was strange to get adjusted to at first, it's like living with ten other people, but only sometimes. Tate made himself visible the most out of everybody.    "How long have you been sitting there? Fuckin' creep." You scoffed, sitting on the edge of your bed to put on a pair of black boots.

"Long enough." He smirked at you, standing up to walk to your desk, flicking through your notebooks.    You saw Tate most often, but frankly, he was the last person you cared to see. He was obnoxious, arrogant, and overall just kind of a douche. You'd come home from school to see him laying in your bed listening to your music. Or you'd wake up in the middle of the night to things falling off of your bookshelf, furniture moving with no one being there. It was always him though. It's like he got off on just screwing with you; so he did. Quite often. Everybody else in the house was decent. Nora was sweet, she just cried a lot. Which was fair given her situation. Chad and Patrick were both okay individually, but when they were together, they were beyond irritating. Just so incredibly passive aggressive - you couldn't imagine being stuck in a house for eternity with someone you wanted to divorce.    You stood up, smoothing out your dress before grabbing your small bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Your parents had decided everyone was going to go out on a nice lunch today.    "Can you get out? I'm leaving." You pushed past him, opening your door and motioning him to walk out. 

"I can never get out, angel." He said, sounding just as conceited as ever, making his way to the door, leaning against the wooden frame. "But I guess I can leave you to your little lunch date with mommy and daddy." He teased you condescendingly. You'd done your best to not let him bother you, but he knew exactly how to get under your skin.

"Thanks for being so kind, Tate." You gave him the sweetest smile you could manage, slamming your bedroom door when the two of you had exited. 

ii.    You'd finally gotten home a few hours later. Your parents were very good at starting conversation with every server you'd ever had. They get talking, and then the server gets talking and it seems to last forever. They do always get some kind of discount or something free for being kind though. Your mom had been a server for a decent part of her life, so she was always extra nice to them.        Telling them you had homework to work on, you made your way upstairs to your room, hearing music coming from behind the door. Just as you suspected, Tate was sprawled out on your bed, hands behind his head, eyes closed. You sighed and walked over to your bed, smacking Tate's side.

   "Can you get the fuck out? I have homework to do." You hissed. You definitely weren't going to do homework though. You'd probably end up reading, or watching YouTube or something - but Tate didn't need to know that part. His eyes opened slowly, and you felt like you couldn't look away. He looked angelic (ironically.) His blond curls spread messily around his head, face peaceful, and most importantly, he wasn't talking, which made him look amazing. Without a word, he moved over to one side of the bed, making room for you on the other.

    "Tate, I mean it, get out. I've got shit to do." You tried to sound strong - however, you weren't very threatening.

"Whatever you've got to do, just do it quietly." He mumbled, eyes closing once again. Looks like you weren't going to be getting him out of your room. With that, you grabbed the book you've been reading and took a seat at your desk chair, kicking your boots off and putting your feet up on the desk. Your dress fell just a bit to reveal part of your upper thigh. Within minutes, you heard quiet snoring coming from the boy in your bed, blankets pulled up to his chin now. How he managed to make himself so comfortable in your room remained a mystery. It was his room first, technically though. You looked up from your book to see him snuggled tightly under the dark purple duvet, lips parted just slightly. 

You couldn't take your eyes off of him - he looked so  peaceful and quite beautiful honestly.     No - what the fuck are you thinking? You thought to yourself. You don't like Tate - you haven't since the day you moved into this house. He was rude and condescending and way too overly confident. He might be nice to look at, but that's all he had going for him. You had to shut those thoughts down immediately. You shook your head and picked your book up again, returning to the chapter you were reading. iii.    "Why are you going to school? Wouldn't you rather stay here with me?" Tate teased, leaning against your door frame, blocking you from leaving. He'd been there since you woke up, but he wasn't going to tell you that part. He'd watched you strip out of your pajamas and slide into your hip hugging denim jeans. He enjoyed seeing you - there was something so erotic to him about just watching you go about your normal routine. Not only was it erotic for him, he just liked to watch you. He was fascinated with the way you'd wing your eyeliner, or paint your lips your favorite pink nude. He liked seeing the way you'd quietly sing to yourself in the morning. Most people that moved into that house were terrified of him and everyone else there. You and your family were so different for him. Tate hadn't felt accepted probably ever in his life. Being accepted, and even admired was such a new feeling for him.     

"No, Tate I wouldn't. I need to go to class today." You huffed, slinging your bag over your shoulder and crossing your arms. He had that stupid smirk stuck to his face. Today, it was hard to tell him no. He did this every few days, and you always pushed past him without a second thought. Today, you kind of wanted to stay home with him. But you couldn't. You'd always done well in school, and it was something you took pride in. So you did what you always did and pushed past him, looking over your shoulder to see him watching you walk away. 

"Your ass looks cute in those jeans!" He called, blowing you a kiss oh-so sweetly. Your heart jumped a bit with his words.    You sat in the cold blue plastic chair, resting your head in the palm of your hand as your English professor babbled on about the assigned reading. The assigned reading that Tate wouldn't let you finish. You were sat in your bed, legs crossed at your ankle trying to finish the chapter. You looked up to see none other than your blond haired nuisance. He was wearing torn up black jeans and Doc Martens. You had the same pair. He crawled over the iron swirls of your bed frame, and laid next to you - uninvited. He tried to talk to you about whatever he could - about your book, about your boots, about himself, about how good he thought you looked in a denim mini skirt. His flirting was always sarcastic. At least it seemed that way. No matter how sarcastic he was though, somehow his words always made your heart flutter. No matter how much you tried to suppress it.    "(Y/N)? Can you tell me what happened to our main character in chapter 7?" Your teacher had her arms crossed over her chest, pulling you from your little fantasy - you just zoned out in class thinking about Tate fucking Langdon? Really?   

"I-well Mrs. Sanchez..." You stammered, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, cheeks turned an almost electric red. How the hell did you get so carried off thinking about a boy you thought you couldn't stand? 

 "Please pay attention, all of this is important." She said, clearly unhappy with you. You were one of her favorite students, but she had almost ridiculously high expectations of you. Oh well, you thought, she'd forget about it tomorrow.    You closed your front door behind you. It was about 3 o'clock. Your mom and dad would be at work for another couple of hours. But you were sure you'd walk upstairs to find Tate curled up in your bed for his afternoon nap, just like you found him there every day. He was a bit predictable sometimes. You trudged up the stairs, desperately needing some alone time. You'd found yourself day dreaming about Tate more than once. You'd see something that reminded you of him, and you'd feel your heart jump in your chest. You'd thought about the little freckle on his nose, and the way he'd touch all his fingers to his thumb when he got a little nervous. You'd thought about the one time you walked into the bathroom to see him shirtless standing looking in the mirror. His jeans were unbuttoned and hung low on his hips. His muscular shoulders stiffened a bit when he saw your reflection.

"I-I..." You stuttered, unable to look away. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in here." Your cheeks were beet red, voice audibly shaking.     "That's okay," He turned around and took a few steps towards you. "You can walk in on me like this whenever you want. It seems like you're liking what you see." He growled, his hand moved to rest against wall next to your head.    You sighed and threw your bag to the floor, kicking your shoes off quickly. That memory ignited something in you and you couldn't deny the wetness forming between your thighs. Swiftly, you unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs, crawling into your bed. You hooked your phone up to your speaker, playing your "Steamyyyyy" playlist, as if you'd ever been with more than one person before. You ran one finger down your chest, to your stomach, finally reaching your black panties, one finger rubbing light circles over your clothed clit. You let out a throaty sigh, gradually picking up speed. Your eyes were closed, head thrown back onto the black silk of your pillow case. You pushed the fabric to the side, your fingertip finally making skin to skin contact with the little bundle of nerves held between your soaking folds. Your lips remained parted, letting out desperate little whimpers every few seconds. Your free hand gripped at the sheets as your finger worked faster, whimpers eventually turning into loud moans. You hadn't been alone to do this in so long - honestly, you'd forgotten what it felt like. As alone as you felt, you logically knew you were never alone in this house. Tate was sat in your desk chair, a distinct protrusion pressing against his light wash jeans. His jaw hung open as he watched you, in shock over how beautiful you looked.Your mind was running with thoughts of none other than him; you thought about his fingers working you like this, his large hands caressing your skin, his full lips pressing kisses into your neck.     

"Tate..." You gasped, fully immersed in your fantasy, feeling that familiar tighten in your tummy, your fingers moved harder almost instinctively. Tate sat there, quiet. You'd finally rendered him speechless. His name fell from your lips several more times. His hand clapped over his mouth to hide his whimpers as you made his cock twitch against his boxers. Truthfully, he'd fantasized about you more times than he cared to admit. Seeing you like this was just a happy accident. He'd walked into your room with the intention to scare you, throw some stuff off of your shelves to mess with your head. But he stopped outside the door, hearing muffled moans. He opened the door slowly, eyes widening when he saw what you were doing.     Suddenly, the coil inside of you snapped and your legs started shaking. Your jaw hung agape, nails digging into the soft fabric beneath you.     

"Oh- fuck! Tate..." You hissed loudly, guaranteed that someone, somewhere in the house heard you. But, it was just Tate. He now stood at the end of your bed, watching as you soaked your fingers, his hand gently palming himself through his jeans. Once you'd finally ridden out your orgasm, you pulled your fingers from their spot between your legs, sighing deeply, satisfied. Your eyes finally opened and you looked around - still no one. Part of you was surprised Tate wasn't there to make fun of you. It was in that moment that you realized how loudly you'd been saying his name. You literally gotten off to him. He'd invaded your thoughts throughout the day and now he was doing it again in your only alone time. God dammit. You sighed and leaned up in your bed, rubbing your eyes. You couldn't keep playing this game with him - you needed to ask him what the hell his goal was. You needed to see what he felt for you. 

   You stood up and slid back into your jeans from earlier, making your way to your bathroom down the hall. The closer you got, you could hear a voice coming from inside. Your hand met the coolness of the door knob, but you stopped, feeling your knees weaken when you realized what you were hearing. From the other side of the door came strained grunts. Your heart was racing but you couldn't pull away. You pressed your ear against the door, the voice getting louder and louder. 

"(Y/N)," the voice hissed - your suspicions were confirmed, it was Tate. "I-I'm gonna' cum..." He hissed, letting out a loud, relieved moan. Your mind was racing, desperate to see what he looked like in that moment. Moments later, you heard the zipper of his jeans and quicker than you meant to, you began your little run down the hall and down the stairs, no doubt he heard your foot falls. Your heart was going to jump out of your throat, you were sure of it. It was your own fault for thinking you'd ever have any kind of alone time in this house. Tate never left you alone - he saw you. He had to. There was no way that was a coincidence. You opened he fridge, not really looking for anything, just trying to occupy yourself. You jumped when you saw two hands on either side of your head, making contact with the fridge. Speak of the devil.

   "Tate! You-you scared me." Whether he saw you or not, it was clear that something had you frazzled.    

"Can we talk?" His voice sounded deep, gravelly, almost like when he'd just woken up. You finally turned around and looked up at him. His hair was a bit messy, cheeks tinted a pale pink.    

"Yeah, about what?" Your voice shook with your words, hands clasped tightly in front of you. You looked up at him as he pushed his body closer to yours.    

"No need to act like you don't know what you heard." He growled, chest pressed tightly to yours. "And I'm not going to act like I didn't see you soaking your sheets thinking about me."

His dark eyes looked bright. He got some kind of thrill out of embarrassing you. You opened your mouth to say something sarcastic back, but no sound came out. Tate being this close to you was making your heart race, you didn't have the overwhelming urge to shove him away like you normally would.   

"I think," He whispered, lips ghosting yours, "You like when I tease you." He smirked, one hand moving down your side to your hip. "Why don't you tell me what you were thinking about, hm baby girl?" His lips brushing yours forced an unintentional moan from your throat, cheeks flushing almost instantly.    "I-Tate..." You were mesmerized. He had you in the palm of his hand and it excited him. "I wasn't thinking about you." You tried to lie, realizing just how dumb you sounded after the words came out.     

"Oh Tate," He raised his tone to mock you, "Fuck me, Tate." He chuckled down at you. "Nothing to be embarrassed about doll, I know you heard me saying your name just like that too." He gave your hip a firm squeeze. 

"After what, nine months in this house, I think it's time you live your fantasies." 

He held you tightly in his hands, spinning you two around so you were pressed against the edge of the counter top. You had nothing to say. Honestly, you were unbelievably excited. You'd thought about his hands touching your skin, his lips on yours, you've wanted this longer than you cared to admit. Your hand came up to hold one side of his face, taking a fistful of his hair and kissing him - hard. His lips worked against yours perfectly, feeling as if they were made to fit together. He got rougher, not hesitating to take control of you. He pushed you firmly against the cool marble behind your back, lips moving from yours down your jaw and to the soft skin on your neck. His kisses started gentle, but quickly got aggressive, nipping at the skin, leaving purple marks in his wake.

You tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, feeling him smirk against your skin before he pulled back to tug the gray fabric over his head, showing you his slightly toned torso. Your heart rate picked up once again as you looked him up and down. 

   "Your turn, angel." He cooed softly, watching as you followed his actions, tossing your tank top to the side. He smirked at you, using both hands to grope at your exposed chest, pressing possessive kisses to your chest.    

"I've always loved it when you don't wear a bra." He teased you, his playful, mocking tone returning.

"It's much more obvious than you think." He smirked and tweaked one nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, making you whimper from the slightly satisfying jolt of pain. You leaned your head back, allowing your eyes to shut as his tongue replaced his fingers, flicking over your nipple. Your lips were parted, letting out quiet gasps of pleasure. His now free hands moved down your sides and to your jeans, unbuttoning them with ease and sliding them down your thighs. You kicked them aimlessly to the forming pile of clothes on he floor.

His kisses started moving south, trailing them down your breasts, to your stomach, to your hips, finally reaching the thin cotton fabric that was now soaked between your legs. One of his hands came up to lift your leg over his shoulder, his lips pushing a few light kisses against your clothed pussy. You whimpered, desperate for him. You'd never admitted it to yourself, but Tate has always a central theme in your fantasies. He'd force his way into your thoughts without you even realizing it, and after you were done, you'd push it away and pretend like you'd thought about someone else. You didn't want to be attracted to someone as annoying and immature as Tate, but now he had his head between your thighs and you had no intention of stopping it.

   He'd pushed the thin fabric aside, flicking his tongue against your clit just once, to make you moan out in pleasure.         

"Stop teasing me, dick head." You half whimpered, half challenged him. You did want him, so badly, but you couldn't let him see just how wrapped around his finger you really were. With your words he roughly pulled your hips forward, forcing a harsh smack to your ass.    

"I like you much more when you're just moaning my name." He growled, but he listened to you. His lips attached to your clit and he began sucking lightly, not hesitating to push two fingers into your wet heat, making you squeal in pleasure. It'd been a long time since someone else's fingers had penetrated you, and somehow Tate was fucking amazing at it. He curled his fingers perfectly in rhythm with the way his mouth worked your clit. Your hands gripped the edge of the counter top, knees growing weak. You felt that tight heat rising in your tummy, his fingers and tongue getting you so close to release, much quicker than you ever did by yourself.     

"Tate- I'm gonna-" He stood up, smoothly lifting you up onto the counter, keeping your leg slung over his shoulder.    

"You're cumming on my cock." He growled dominantly, his eyes looking dark and almost feral. He kicked his jeans and boxers to the side, completing the pile of your clothes. You couldn't help but watch as he stroked his length a few times before lining it up with your entrance, pushing into you painfully slowly. You looked up at him, taking in his features. His jaw hung open a bit, blond curls hanging in his eyes. He looked as perfect as someone possibly could. Once he bottomed out inside of you, he looked up, beginning to thrust into you, starting slow and picking up gradually. 

   "Fuck-" He hissed through gritted teeth, "You're so fucking tight." His hands rested on the counter on either side of your hips, fingertips turning white from how hard he pressed into the surface. He kept up a steady pace for awhile before you felt his hips stutter - he was close. He brought one hand up and began rubbing fast circles over your clit, making your legs tremble around him.    

"Cum with me, angel." He growled, fingers picking up their pace, your lips barely brushing his as you felt that tightness return. Your jaw hung open now as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You watched his fingers and hips work in time against you, when all of a sudden you felt him release, covering your walls with his hot cum, forcing the coil in your tummy to snap. You came with him, nails digging into his shoulder, knees feeling weak before it was even over. You watched his face relax once he was finished, chest rising and falling quickly. He looked up at you through his hair, flashing a faint smile. He pulled out of you slowly, pressing a loving kiss into your cheek before bending down to dig through the pile of clothes to find his boxers. He slipped them over his legs, followed by his jeans, but you stayed in your spot on the counter.    "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He looked at you, jeans resting low on his hips.    "You get on my fucking nerves more than anything, and somehow you managed to have me up on this counter for you." You shook your head, blatantly in shock from what just happened. You didn't want it to end though. There was something about seeing Tate so vulnerable, yet so confident that just left you wanting more. He smirked, pulling his shirt over his head and shrugging.    "Neither of us are complaining." He smirked, tossing you your shirt and helping you down from the counter. You pulled your tank top on, opening your mouth to respond when you heard the key turn in the door - your parents were home.    "This isn't over, Langdon." You hissed, grabbing your clothes before rushing up the stairs, accidentally slamming your door much harder than you intended.    A few weeks had passed since your encounter with Tate, and there had been a repeat of those events every few days. You two started to pick up on what the other one liked. Like how you enjoyed having your hair pulled and Tate enjoyed when you'd kiss his neck. He liked having you in control. For someone as confident and douchey he was, he liked having you dirty talking him, being the more dominant one occasionally. And god damn, that boy was always in the mood. You'd feel his hands on your hips when you'd brush your teeth in the morning, or when you were getting ready for bed, he'd kiss down your shoulders the way he knew you loved. But you didn't mind. If he wanted it, you were happy to drop what you were doing and sleep with him. It was a fun little arrangement.    It was late, probably around 2 A.M., Tate was laid next to you, a blanket covering him from the waist down, his arms behind his head. You looked over at him, feeling your heart race a little faster. The more time you spent with Tate, the more you grew to appreciate him. He was funny, and charismatic. He'd make you giggle but then have you bent over your bed in the same minute. You couldn't help but miss the feeling of him when you slept alone in your bed. He was always warm.    You pulled the blanket tighter around your chest as you leaned up on one elbow, looking over at his sleepy face.        "Tate can I ask you something? It's kind of dumb, but I just need to know." You felt nervous all of a sudden. You weren't even exactly sure what you wanted with him. Could you be in a relationship with someone who died in the 90's? Was that even what he wanted? What if he just wanted to be fuck buddies? Is that okay with you? Your brain was jumbled with all these thoughts, interrupted when he looked over at you, skin almost glowing in the dim light.    "What's up?" He looked up at you, his finger drawing lazy circles on his chest. You took a deep breath and visibly shifted, clearly uncomfortable.    "What are we?" You blurted out, cheeks going red immediately. "Because we- we fuck a lot. You're in my room a lot. You never let me be alone, and I just don't want to say something weird, or continue being in the dark I guess." Your voice trailed off before you collapsed down onto your back again, suddenly unable to look at him. He looked over at you though, you couldn't meet his eyes.    "What do you want to be?"    "No, don't put this on me. Answer my question."    He sighed, and you finally looked over at hi,.    "(Y/N)," He started, looking over your chest before looking back into your eyes. "Honestly, this started as sex." Your heart dropped. "But you're right, we have spent a lot of time together. I like being in here with you, regardless of what we're doing." He moved to cup one side of your face.    "I don't want to tie you down, ever. I can't leave this house, and I don't want you to be stuck here with me." You opened your mouth to cut him off, tell him that you were willing to be here with him, for however long he wanted, but he cut you off, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.    "How about this - you and me continue what we're doing here. We can be boyfriend and girlfriend here, but I won't be mad if you find someone else, out there." His words almost brought tears to your eyes. You hadn't felt cared for like this in so long, and to be here, this vulnerable and intimate made your eyes well up.    "Please just agree. If I could leave this house, I'd ask you to be mine right now, and I'd parade you around for everybody to see. But I can't do that, so we keep doing what we're doing, and see how things progress naturally." He flashed you a close mouthed smile, but it felt genuine nonetheless. One tear fell down your cheek, and you returned his smile.    "That sounds perfect to me. Boyfriend and girlfriend, kind of." You grinned before he pulled you into a kiss, hands wrapping around you to keep you in his arms - and you'd stay there as long as he wanted you to.

[ryik-the-writer]

Chapter 23 - Reflections pt. 2

[A03]

Chapter 1: Pan meets a Wendy Chapter 2: Scars (Felix’s Story) Chapter 3: Day One Chapter 4: Revenge and Fireflies Chapter 5: Brighter than Stars Chapter 6: filler: The Tigress Chapter 7: Operation Spotless! Chapter 8: Operation Spotless: Reporters Down Chapter 9: A Dance with the Devil Chapter 10: filler: Felix and the Pancake Chapter 11: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 1 Chapter 12: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 2 Chapter 13: The Girl With Blue Eyes: Underground Chapter 14. Recovery Chapter 14.2 Recovery some more Chapter 15: Trapped Chapter 16: Filth Chapter 17: Fairydust pt. 1 Chapter 18: Fairydust pt. 2 Chapter 19: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 1 Chapter 20: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 2                                         Chapter 21:  The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 3                                         Chapter 22: Reflections pt. 1

Blood.

He wanted blood.

He wanted to smear it on his walls. On his skin.

He wanted her blood.

Pan slammed the door of the police station as he barged through the street, the icy night air barely affecting him. His blood was boiling, threatening to ooze through his pores, to spill on the ground.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to fail. Peter Pan never fails.

Yet he had been dethroned in a matter of seconds, and all he had left was a dark, gnawing rage swimming through his bloodstream.

The pavement seemed to crumble under his feet as he stalked yet the exaggerated force did not ease his hatred.

Just ahead, town psychiatrist Archie Hopper was walking his Dalmatian, Pongo. The dog instantly sensed the approaching danger and forced his owner out of the way, the man fumbling for control as Pan stormed past them.

He would have thrown them through a shop window if they hadn’t moved.

“This wasn’t supposed to have happened! This shouldn’t have happened!”

But it did.

“It’s not my fault.”

Of course it’s not.

“It’s hers!”

Of course, of course…

“Everything would have been fine if she had just let me handle it!”

She won’t accept the truth.

He almost ripped the door off the hinges when he reached his apartment, but the quiet that greeted him when he entered caused him to stop in his tracks.

Not the quiet not the quiet not the quiet…

Like a savior, Pan’s cat rounded out of the kitchen, his heavy purring clearing away the darkness that threatened to swallow him.

Pan knelt and petted the cat with a shaky hand, his fingers grazing over the scars from years of trauma the animal sustained during his life on the street. If it weren’t for his blind eye and patches of missing fur, no one would ever suspect he had ever been abused. He was a whore for attention and would purr for anyone who would touch him. An absolute slut. Hardly the vicious creature Pan thought he was taking in.

Fluffy. Soft.

His neck is probably extremely breakable.

Pan paused as the thought went through his mind, his fingers digging into the cat’s neck to the point where he yowled in discomfort.

As adrenaline coursed through his veins, he calmly picked up the cat, the heavy creature squirming in his arms, and carried him into the bathroom, closing him in as he stared up in confusion.

As soon as he stepped away from the door, he grabbed a lamp from the side table—a gift, he recalled, from Felix when he first moved in—and hurled it across the room. The force of the plug being wretched from the wall nearly tore the socket from the wiring. The sound of the glass splattering on the wall sounded like a gunshot, and it smoked as it settled to the floor.

It wasn’t enough.

It was too quiet here.

Call August?

“I want to be alone!”

No you don’t.

He swerved into the kitchen and grabbed a frying pan hanging over the sink. Gripping it firmly, he began swinging it and hitting anything in sight.

His bookshelf was soon a pile of woodchips, his few trinkets broken plaster and glass on his living room floor.

When there was nothing left to destroy in the living room, he headed to the kitchen, throwing plates and glasses where ever he could. Then to his bedroom where he nearly put a whole in his wall flipping the mattress over. The corner knocked over a series of pictures he had on his dresser, a group photo of him, Felix and Tink crashing into the floor. Their smiling faces stared up at him, daring him to justify what he had done.

“It’s not my fault. I was trying to help you!” he screamed into the destruction.

Were you really?

He fell back against the wall as the light above him flickered, struggling not to blow out.

Sound familiar?

He stared at the light as the adrenaline slowly leaked from his veins, the pounding of a pissed off neighbor beating into his shoulder blades.

From the bathroom he could hear Fuzz freaking out, yowling in fear from the violence.

Pan’s hand fell to the floor, his skin breaking as his fingers swam through the layer of broken glass and dust, pausing only when they felt the familiar softness of inked paper.

He glared at the smudged headline and Wendy’s crinkled photo under the author’s section, his blood pressure rising as he glared at her candid smiling face.

Somehow he remembered that her eyes were green despite the gray photo.

This isn’t her fault, something much kinder him said.

But the voice was too quiet, and he crumbled up the photo between his oozing fingers.

He blinked and held his eyes close for only a moment, but when he opened the door the room was flooded with late morning light.

His back was throbbing and his fingertips were burning, the newspaper still clutched in his hand.

He pulled the dried blood-stained newspaper from his skin and grimaced at the stinging.

With a pacified huff he picked himself off the floor, tearing yesterday’s shirt off as he opened the bathroom door so that his cat could make a beeline for his food bowl.

Pan paid him no mind as he tossed his shirt in the bathtub and turned on the sink, letting the weak drops of water clot on his fingertips, the pinkish blood staining the sink.

He didn’t bother to give his reflection a look-over; he knew good and well that a bruised, bloodshot-eyed creature would be waiting for him in the glass.

Instead he went through his morning routine in an automatic daze, brushing his teeth and running a comb through his hair all without the reflective aid.

The only step away from his routine was the bandages he had to wrap around his fingers, the sticky strips of plastic squeezing his flesh too tight.  

He stepped over his broken living room to get to his closet and chose an outfit without concern for corresponding colors.

Finally, he addressed his howling cat and dumped a heap into his now-slightly damaged bowl. A wide gap ran down the side, nearly splitting the dish in two. The feline cared little to none as long as it would still hold food.

Pushing aside a heap of broken dishes with his shoe, he pulled half a gallon of milk out of his sparse refrigerator, blindly taking a large swig until the sour taste hit his senses. He nearly choked getting the curdles out through his nose, gasping for breath as the clumps oozed down the drain.

Eyes burning and throat constricting, he started gagging until a long trail of saliva joined the milk, punctuated by a weak shout from him. He slammed his bawled fist on the counter over and over again, wondering only for a moment if it would shatter if he continued.

But it didn’t, and as with all things, Pan had to move on.

He ran the water in the sink but didn’t bother to clean the mess.

After all, he needed something to look forward to during his week of fucking suspension.

Pan scoffed at the reminder, but kept his thoughts at bay to keep the hatred from boiling over again. He wouldn’t have an apartment left if he did.

After giving his mouth a good rinse, he began gathering his things and his helmet. He had no idea where he was going or even what he would do, but he knew after years of these meltdowns that the best thing to do is to keep moving. Eventually something would capture his attention, and he would be able to handle his current issue when he was a bit calmer.

The cool morning air bit at his cheeks as he trudged down the awakening Storybrooke streets. He frowned when he remembered how loud the streets of Scotland were during all hours of the day. Yelling at rude neighbors at night, shouting at the same ones at the crack of dawn. It was invigorating.

Now he wished there was a daily disaster or a fight between lovers spilling out of the windows, anything to fill in the nauseating peace around him. Even the birds were refusing to sing their songs, just to annoy him of course!

He glanced around his usual haunts, giving fiery glares at anyone who dared looked up at him. Word had probably gotten out about his suspension he was sure. He could feel it in the air, and see it at the way the townspeople were sneering at him.

That boy is finally getting what he deserves.

He always was a little troublemaker.

Things are going to be real quiet around here for a while.

Splinters of ice swam through Pan’s veins but he refused to show how anxious he was on the outside. He still ran this town no matter what happened. It was only a matter before things fell back into place.

Until then he was piss and needed a distraction.

He entered Granny’s without any real intention of getting anything, and it was far too early in the morning to pick a fight.

The townsfolk became recognizably quiet as he strolled up to the counter. Pan scoffed. Sheep.

Granny was staring at him over her crescent-shape glasses, one of her eyebrows arched in amusement.

“Heard you got into more trouble than usual,” she teased as she wiped a glass dry.

“Shut it,” Pan growled, the older woman taking very little offense to Pan’s gruffness.

“Heard that Wendy girl was right beside you,” Granny continued with a half smirk.

“Is there anything you haven’t heard?” Pan snarked. “Do you want to update me on the recipe on your latest batch of frozen lasagna?”

Granny’s smirk dropped in an instant. “Hey! We agreed that was a secret!”

“And I won’t hesitate to forget that promise if you don’t zip it, now may I please have some coffee?”

Granny didn’t stop glaring at him as she made his request. Feeling a bit more back in control, Pan gave her a plastic angel smile as she slid the sloshing mug to him before he frowned again.

The brew was tasteless but hot enough that it kept his nerves screaming, distracting him and keeping his thoughts steady.

Granny began a new task and the diner residents picked up their conversations once more.

“How’s Wendy?” Granny asked suddenly.

Pan spat into his cup, the bitter liquid coating his inner nostrils.

“The fuck…what?” he coughed, taking a wad of napkins across his mouth. “Why?”

Granny shrugged. “I saw you two walking together the other night,” she said. “Before…everything.”

“And?” Pan growled.

“I talked to Tink,” the restaurant owner said, her eyes not quite meeting his. “Wendy’s name came up a lot. She’s still very upset, but she said she messed up about something. ”

“Damn right she did,” Pan muttered. She wasn’t supposed to get hurt over this.

“I thought it was a bit strange that Wendy would write a story like that,” Granny said, giving him an all-knowing look. “She hardly seems like the type of person to drag someone through the dirt like that.”

Pan clenched his mug.  “You don’t know her.”

“And you do?”

Pan locked his jaw to keep from answering. He didn’t need this old bat analyzing whatever he had with Wendy. And he sure as hell wasn’t about to lay out his entire life with more than a dozen ears listening in.

He wordlessly pulled out some crumpled money—much less than was due for his barely touched cup of coffee—and exited the restaurant before he rammed the older woman’s head into the counter.

His whole body felt tight, his joints stiffening with each step he took until he hardened to a stop in front of the diner alley.

He hadn’t answered Granny’s question, he realized. How was Wendy?

Pissed, he thought with a weak scoff. He had done drug her into all of this for her benefit, yet she hadn’t seen that. Why couldn’t she see that?

Pan shook his head as leaned against the wall. Had this all gone according to plan—if Mother Superior hadn’t offed herself that is—Wendy might have seen it. She would have been acclaimed for her work and quickly figured out his role in it. Though there would have immediate consequences for the story, they wouldn’t have been nearly as intense. Tink could finally give the head nun the chewing out she deserved, and Wendy would be her hero.

In return for putting her on the spotlight, Wendy would be grateful to him, but it would have also established his sense of power. It would have kept her at a distance but also kept her close. A perfect balance. Just what he wanted.

But it hadn’t turned out that way, and now he had her, Tink, and the majority of the town glaring at him. It was starting to make him feel small. Powerless.

He had felt this way only once in his life, and once he was on top he swore he would never go back down.

But he felt unsure where to start clawing and now he had no one he could stand on to get back up.

He glanced off into the alley, the dark, small space seeming to stretch on forever. A nice place for monsters to live.

A better place for monsters to flee from.

And then in flash of a moment, he remembered the monster that had been creeping there.

Jekyll. Slinking in the dark looking for his blue-eyed victim.

His Belle.

The name made the air in his lungs shrivel up. Where was she now? Pan looked around as if she would still be there, curled up in the corner the same way she had been when Wendy found her. God he had barely thought of her since her rescue. What had happened to her?

His adrenaline began to soar as he thought of her, tried to pinpoint where she had been taken. Was she safe? Was she healthy? How the hell could he just push her aside?!

His flicker of light.

Belle.

I’m sorry Belle.

He shot from the alley and made a mad dash to the hospital where she surely must be. She had to be. She was waiting for him, right?

She wouldn’t abandon him. She swore that. She would help him untangle this web of darkness settled in his soul.

She had to. He was out of places to turn.

 0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The hospital staff stared at him like he had just pulled himself from an accident, and it wasn’t until he caught sight of himself in a window that he saw why.

His hair was standing in multiple ends, having been unbrushed for several days. His eyes were dark and sunken in, bloodshot. He even had sprigs of facial hair threatening break through the surface of his face.

He looked like a freshly realized serial killer.

Belle would be scared to death if she saw him.

With a growl he moved to find the nearest restroom, easing close enough to a supply cart that he could snag a comb and a razor.

Locking himself in, he set to work to make himself somewhat presentable. He scrubbed his face until it stung, taking the razor to the fuzz sprouting on his features without care of how much it would burn later. He then set to work with his hair, wetting it and combing it over. Maybe Belle would recognize him better if he wore it the way he had years ago.

But he quickly discovered how absolutely ridiculous he looked with the comb-over. He looked like a choir boy! Like a boyish little prick!

He ruffled his hair furiously, his heart pounded. What if she was still terrified of him? What if she didn’t want to see him at all?

The light above the sink flickered, seeming to want to go out thanks to his indecisiveness. He could easily walk away, and Belle could continue to heal without ever knowing that he had attempted to darken her doorway.

But then what? He’d be back to filling his mind with nothingness. At least Belle could distract him, and possibly help him feel whole once more. She always had a way of doing so.

Glaring at his reflection, he combed his hair back into the boyish look. Better safe than sorry.

Now his clothes. They were clean enough, but more like something he’d wear during a night out. Frowning, he buttoned his shirt all the way up, and spent five minutes tucking it into his jeans in a way that looked decent.

His face was burning when he finally emerged from the bathroom. He felt tight, completely unlike himself. Hopefully it wouldn’t be for nothing.

Just as he was about to ask a nurse at the desk where Belle’s room was, a cart of flowers was pushed past him, making Pan realize that of course he should get Belle flowers.

He recalled how much she loved roses. Gold had a half-maintained garden at his home once, which—Pan recalled—suddenly became a full-time project shortly after Belle came into their lives.

Pan gritted his teeth as he snagged as small bouquet off the cart while the nurse was busy, hiding it as he got Belle’s information.

God, he’d been so stupid back then, to think Belle would ever had a relationship with a boy young enough to be her little brother. He wondered if she and Gold ever laughed about it, at his desperation for the love he had desperately needed.

That same boyish hope pulsed in the very back of his mind. Maybe things could be different now.

He scoffed as he got into the elevator. Like hell. Belle didn’t need his filth in her life. She deserved freedom, and open spaces and fresh air after all she went through.

Because of you.

Before the thought could sink in, he caught site of a very familiar irritating nest of blond curls.

“Wendy!” Pan gasped, not realizing that he had said her name out loud until she shot around, her wild eyes softening at the site of him .

Peter Pan—who just last night had nearly framed Wendy for murder, knocked out Dr. Whale, and betrayed a slew of people—was standing in his Sunday best with a bouquet of freshly pruned flowers clutched in his hand and utterly vulnerable before his female opponent.

“Hey.” Wendy greeted with a snort.

“Hi…” Pan returned, his skin prickling from being so exposed.

They stared at each other for a moment—each curious as to why they were both at he hospital in the first place—before Wendy sputtered and released a melodically laugh.

 Just a heads up, updating might be much slower than usual. I’m a journalist trying to get a job and once I do my focus is going to be primarily on that and working as many hours as possible so that I can afford my own place. I have a good idea of what’s next for this story but my mind’s been so clouded lately I’m having trouble concentrating. I don’t want writing to be a chore so I’m putting it to rest for a little.

However, I don’t know what the future’s going to be like, so I might have more time than I realize, so we’ll see.