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ncttytrack · 2 months

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can you do reader giving daddy jake a head while jake is in front of his computer desk having a meeting with his colleagues 😵‍💫

Thank you so much for the request anon!! I don’t know if you meant daddy jake as in husband, or stepdad Jake…step dad Jake sounds hotter so I wrote about that hehe.

Daddy’s girl - s.j

All over the screen it was stepdad-stepdaughter related porn, full on display for you to see. And by the looks of it, Jake had already watched the majority of the videos.

Genre: Stepdad!Jake x reader

Words: 3k+

Warnings: Age gap, degradation, Jake is a creep lmao, dom!Jake, sub!reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You’ve always thought that Jake and your moms relationship was great. You never really knew your dad and growing up without a father figure was therefore difficult for you. That was until she met Jake. Jake married your mom when you were sixteen years old, four years ago to be exact, and it was nice to have Jake as the father you never really had. He really took care of you, making sure to give you the childhood you never really got.

You had always thought Jake was attractive, like, how could you not. With his perfect smile, kind eyes, and soft lips, Jake was everything you liked in a guy, except for the fact that he was your “new” dad. It was fine until you became legal of age, it was like something happened the day you turned eighteen.

Every occurrence with Jake at home became weird, from the way he looked at you, to the way he would talk to you, to the way he would sneakily touch you every chance he got. Everytime you felt that someone was looking at you, you would turn around and meet Jakes gaze, shamelessly looking up and down you frame - taking in your appearance in not-so-innocent ways. The way his tongue would grace over his bottom lip, and his eyes would darken when he stared at you a little too long would send shivers down your spine, making you always look away.

Fuck, and you kinda liked it too. The step-dad trope growing on you because of Jake, sometimes even purposely buying Penelope Douglass books about fucking fathers to calm down the urge you felt every time you saw him. But you couldn’t go behind your moms back, that would be horrible and so morally wrong. Finally she was happy - how could you destroy that?

Today was Thursday, and your mom was at work. Jake usually works from home, having zoom-meetings by his computer desk in his office. Because you want to be a nice step-daughter, you decided that you wanted to fix something for him, hence why you are holding a plate with chopped fruit heading towards his office. You feel your face heaten up as you get closer to his office. Even after four years you never got the courage to visit him when working at home, too embarrassed to be alone with him - especially in his work clothes.

Jake in his work clothes was something…else, you could say. If you thought Jake was attractive, then Jake in formal clothing was absolutely irresistible. He would always wear black suit pants, along with a white button-up. His shirt would always be rolled up at a perfect height, allowing you to sneak glances at his arms while making his coffee between zoom-meetings. And sometimes he even wore a god damn tie. Oh god when Jake wore a tie you could not take your eyes off him. Shamelessly you would always watch him at home, greeting your mom - welcoming her home after a long day at work, while loosening up his tie with one hand, showing off his skin in the prosses.

When walking into his office, you noticed that he was nowhere in sight. Maybe he went to the bathroom? Well, you could just leave the plate on his desk, and Jake could thank you later, hopefully out of his work-outfit.

You walked up to his desk to put the plate down, and couldn’t help but to look at his computer. You were always nosy, and just wanted to have a small peak on what your step-dad was working on.

But the things on his computer make you let out a loud gasp, accidentally dropping the plate on the desk - making half of the fruit fall from the plate.

All over his computer, there was porn. Porn everywear. He was watching porn, not working. You hastily grab the computer mouse, scrolling through the site. Omg. And it wasn’t just any porn, it was porn related to you.

All over the screen it was stepdad-stepdaughter related porn, full on display for you to see. And by the looks of it, Jake had already watched the majority of the videos.

You looked around the office to see if Jake had noticed you watching his screen, before hastily sitting down on his chair. Your heart was beating loud in your chest while you continued to watch the lewd pictures displaying on the screen. What if he sees you in front of your computer? What would he say?

Embarrassed, but too curious to not continue, you scrolled through all the videos he had watched.

Step daughter, fucked roughly by her step dad while mom is home

Step dad fucking his step daughter while mom watches

Step daughter begging her step dad to fuck her on his desk

The room was quiet, and the horrendous titles made you unwillingly clench your thighs. Did Jake watch these videos thinking about you? Wonder which one is his favorite, the desk one maybe? Nonetheless, you clicked on it, watching the video load on the screen in front of you. You bite your nails nervously while the video in front of you still loads, looking up from the computer screen to look around for a second time to make sure that Jake hasn't caught you.

When the video started playing, you instantly became mesmerized by the filthy scene. You couldn’t stop watching it, seeing the way the daughter was crying for her stepdad's cock on his desk made your pussy clench, already feeling the wetness forming between your legs. Your breaths got heavier and heavier, intensely watching the stepdad get his way with his stepdaughter, ramming his massive cock in and out her absurdly tight pussy.

You lean back against his soft office chair, massaging your thighs up and down with your hand, teasing yourself, before softly grazing your fingers on your wet pussy over your jeans. You can’t help but let out a small moan, biting your lips to hide the sound escaping your lips.

Before you could open up your pants, finally giving in to the excitement you are feeling, you suddenly see someone in the corner of your eye. You let out a surprised scream when you see who it is.

It’s Jake. Shit. How long had he been standing there?

Jake is leaning against the doorframe, smirking when he sees you sitting by his desk, obviously watching one of the porn videos on his computer. He is still wearing his office clothes. Fuck. And even his stupid black tie. Damn you are really fucked.

The smirk on his face makes you even hornier, clenching your thighs - something that doesn’t get unnoticed by Jake. “Why are you surprised, baby? It seems like you were enjoying yourself, didn’t think my sweet step-daughter was so naughty”

You quickly jump out from his chair, backing away while shaking your head, hands in front of your chest to deny his accusations. “I-Im sorry I was just curious- I- I’m leaving now” You say, trying to walk past him before you can feel his hand grabbing your arm. You look up at Jake, and he almost looks angry, his smirk replaced with a stern face. “Where do you think you are going, do you think you can snoop around on my computer without permission, without some sort of punishment?”

Jake was staring down at you, his grip on your arm beginning to hurt because of his strength. You shake your head again, looking up at him with big eyes, trying to ignore the arousal his harsh words give you between your legs. “Why were you in my office in the first place y/n?” He still holds your arm with his hand, the other now holding your waist, keeping you in place close to him.

“I-i was just”, you try to form a sentence but you're too embarrassed by how close he is, even being able to smell his coffee breath. You glance over your shoulder to look at the apple bites you cut, still all over his table from when you dropped the plate. Jake looks in the same direction before a smile forms on his face.

“Aw, baby, did you prepare those? For me?” He says, while tilting his head, his tongue grazing over his lips. If he wasn’t your step-dad, your moms husband, then you would really want to kiss him right now. As long as Jake doesn’t take another step, you could maybe resist him. But by the looks of it, backing down is not part of his plan.

A hand still on your arm, he drags you to his office chair, sits down while pulling you with him - making you sit on his lap. You feel his cock against your inner thigh, already hard probably from watching you almost get off earlier in front of his computer. You watch as Jake's hand leaves your arm, picking up on the apple bites on his desk, before bringing it up to your mouth.

“Open up” he says, poking your lips with the fruit. You obligate, opening your mouth - letting yourself be fed by Jake while sitting on top of him. You wrap your lips around the apple slice and take a bite.

The way Jake was looking at you eating from his hand could only be described as predatory, his mouth letting out heavy breath from arousal. “Does it taste good, baby? hm?”. With the apple slice still in your mouth, you are unable to answer with words, nodding your head up and down. He lets out a small chuckle, while caressing your cheek with his hand, when suddenly he grabs your jaw.

“Maybe I want a taste too”, he says looking down at your lips before hungrily kissing you. While he roughly kisses you, playing with the barely-there-apple bites in your mouth with his tongue, his hand sneakily rises up inside your shirt. You moan both at the feeling of his hand nearly touching your boobs and at the feeling of his cook against your clothed core. You feel Jake’s smirk against your lips when hearing your erotic sound, his hand suddenly grabbing your waist to push you further down on his bulge. You stop kissing him because of his actions, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Fuck, we can’t do this Jake” You really were pathetic. Your words were saying something, but the way your hips were grinding back and forth on his hard cock, mouth agape, forrowed eyebrows just begging to be fucked was signaling something else. You tried to sound so innocent, but really you were just a cock slut.

“Maybe, but you are making it way worse when you grind like that on your step-dads dick like a slut” You were so cute, your movement in combination with how desperate you look makes him harder and harder every second. He leans back on his chair, and admires your state, grabbing a part of your hair to play with between his fingers.

“But you’re right, we shouldn't” His words almost make you disappointed, you can’t lie. You kinda wish he got his way with you like in one of the porn videos he was watching. He cups your cheek and you lean into his touch, feeling up his rough hands against your soft skin. He shouldn’t, really shouldn’t, but he can’t resist you. “I know something else you could do”

He suddenly pushes you off of him, and grabs your shoulders - pushing you further down until your knees hit the floor. You look up at him with a confused stare, while Jake opens up new taps on his computer, erasing the porn that before was on screen. “Don’t let out any sound while you do it” He couldn’t mean, could he? “We don’t want my colleagues to find out my step-daughter is sucking me off, don’t we?” He says, now looking down on you between his legs, his eyes hooded and lips red from the kiss.

He turned his concentration towards his computer, calling up his colleagues for a “spontaneous” meeting. The thrill of maybe getting caught with you makes his dick twitch, causing Jake to let out a moan at the thought.

Jake looked like a mess. Messy hair, red cheeks, a hand on his cock - massaging it while looking intensely at his computer. His shirt was almost unbuttoned - showing off his chiseled stomach and his tie was hanging loose from his neck. Oh you wish he could use the fabric to choke you, drag you around holding it like a leash.

“Be a good girl now and please your daddy, alright?” He says while unbuckling his belt, right before unbuttoning his pants - pulling them down alongside his boxers in one go.

His cock was massive, to say the least. His tip was red, leaking with preecum - and it almost looked like his cock hurt from how hard it was, begging to be sucked. Jake, already starting his meating, sneakily looked down at you and whispered. “Like what you see baby?”, using his hand to squeeze the top of his cock, making more preecum leak out from the tip.

Your mouth was watering, softly touching the veins on his cock, making Jake let out a hiss - grabbing his dick to slap it on your cheek. “Start sucking, slut. And don’t you dare tease me”, he says as quietly as possible, trying to not make his coworkers grow any suspicion. He looked up again at his computer screen, smiling enthusiastically when one of his coworkers started to speak, while guiding his leaking cock between your lips.

Because of his growing impatience, he wastes no time to push his length into your mouth. The feeling of his hard dick into your soft mouth makes him lean back against his chair, glancing down on you. He has to see what you look like with his cock in your mouth. He lets out a small groan when he sees the way you look up at him back, big innocent eyes while your mouth slowly works up and down his length - trying not to gag. Fuck. How could you look at him like that, while having his cock in your mouth?

His cock is almost too big for you, making you use your hands to jerk him off at the base of his cock. When he sees your small hands trying to fit around his girth, he almost lets out a loud enough moan for his co-workers to hear. You were so cute, really concentrating to please him just the way he wants to be pleased, making sure to not leave a single inch untouched - either pleased by your hand or your mouth.

Jake has to cover his mouth to muffle his moans, his hips starting to thrust up - fucking your mouth to get closer. This causes you to gag every time his dick hits deep down your throat, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

When Jake looks down on you, he almost loses his breath. Saliva was running down from your mouth, using it to lubricate his dick to make it easier for him to go deeper into your mouth. The tears forming in your eyes are now sliding down your cheek, your makeup getting completely destroyed because of him. He completely destroyed you, and you let him, and he can’t wait anymore.

“Uhm, Jake? Are you okay? Your face is completely red and you're sweating, are you sick?” Fuck, fuck, fuck. If Jake doesn’t come up with a pathetic excuse, then they will definitely know that the reason why he is red and sweaty is not because he is sick - but because he is getting head by his step-daughter. He tries to answer without letting out any suspicious sound. “I-ah” Shit.

“Are you hurt Jake?” His other co-worker asks, looking generally concerned by his moan. He glances down at you. The last thing he is right now is hurt. When you see Jake look down at you, you smirk up at him, suddenly deepthroating his dick - every inch of it inside your mouth, down your throat. Jake begins to internally panic of this, are trying to get him caught?

“I-I need to go”, Jake says, and without letting the others answer, he turns off his computer to give his full attention to you.

He grabs your head and pushes your face down towards his cock, making you let out a painful cry. “Fuck, baby, your mouth is so warm.” He throws his head back against his chair, still holding your head down on his cock to make sure you gag around him, almost getting harder from the pathetic sounds you let out.

He finally pushes your head back, letting your breath for a second before slamming his cock inside your mouth again. This time, however, he doesen’t wait, but continues to fuck in and out your mouth. “You like this huh? Sucking your step-dads dick in his office like the little whore you truly are?” His words are completely degrading, but the way he says it makes you even wetter, disgustingly grinding on the floor to feel some sort of friction.

“Yeah, grind your pussy on the floor slut” He says, the pace he fucks your mouth getting faster the closer he gets to cum inside your mouth. You know he is close by the way his moans get louder and louder, his eyes completely shut from pleasure. “F-fuck, baby, I’m cumming” Jake says, shoting his load inside your mouth.

He grabs your hair, causing you to wince with his cum still inside of your mouth. He looks at you and licks his lips. "Swallow, all of it” You do as he says, feeling his cum slide down your throat, opening up your mouth for him to see that every drop of his cum was now inside of your stomach.

Jake leans back on his chair, manspreading, and puts both of his hands on his thighs. His cock is already hard again on top of his stomach, seconds after getting sucked by you. He slaps his thighs and tilts his head to the side, looking at you. “Did you think it was over? Now come here baby and ride daddy's dick”

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen hyung line #enhypen imagines #enha smut #enhypen hard thoughts #jake smut #Jake enhypen #Jake sim #jake x reader

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hellotherepaul · 2 years

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Oh god a full time job is a full time job huh

#it’s so weird I’m used to food service like clock in clock out #and this is like ‘oh yeah well there’s 2 days of in person training but then there’s also a ton of videos to watch log your time there’#and then there’s these zoom meetings don’t forget those and also any admin work is obviously paid #and so it’s like…I’ve been working most of today but I’m nowhere NEAR as drained as I would have been if I worked a food service shift #blue collar vs white collar is real and it’s fucking bizarre and honestly infuriating going from one to the other #like I have work to do but it’s like I gotta get my work computer and work phone working #and send some emails #work on some certifications #organize my notes from todays meetings #wtf is this literally a week ago I was cleaning bathrooms at sbux

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inhuman-obey-me · 1 month

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🕶 with Barbatos please??👀 also yes on MC! (sorry for being specific, you can ignore it if you want but can it be directed at mc i'm not normal about Barb)

"I saw a little thing I didn't like you tried to hide." - Barbatos/MC

content warning: blood, reference to torture/gore

Barbatos has a reputation.

It is one that you remind yourself of at times, when you get lost in his sweet words and even sweeter treats. Those soft smiles, his ever-readiness to serve, his meticulous attention to detail so that things were always perfect for you – he would insist you had him wrapped around your finger, but sometimes you wonder if it truly isn’t the other way around.

After all, while you loved that side of him – one that few had the privilege to witness – you could not help but be intrigued by the part of him that reigned in the shadows.

The part of him that delighted in the slow torture of a traitor. The part of him that could use a knife to cut up a bleeding-heart artichoke just as deftly as an actual bleeding heart. The part of him that could drive someone mad just by warping the space around him, damning them to experience eternity in a matter of seconds.

Perhaps you were a bit too intrigued, your morbid curiosity having led you now to wander the dark halls of the Demon Lord’s Castle in search of him. He was supposed to meet you at the foyer earlier, but when the ever-punctual demon was nowhere to be found, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You wanted to see if you could catch the consistently composed butler off-guard, unprepared.

A fool’s quest.

You pass an archway and stop in your tracks, swearing you heard a faint scream from down below. A metallic scent pervades, your stomach churning as you take a step, and then another, and yet another – slowly descending the stairs, unsure of what you’ll find at the bottom.

It’s dimly lit, torches along the walls flickering with magic flames. Your eyes adjust, and your heart nearly skips a beat as you see Barbatos in the distance. You dive behind a wall, peering around the corner to observe.

He seems to be talking to someone, though you can’t see who. A cell, you think, as you notice the iron bars gating certain areas. The light catches on an object in his hand, something silver, and you realize he’s cleaning it off with cloth. Your own hands fish out your D.D.D., opening the camera function to zoom in and get a clearer look.

Oh.

He’s splattered with blood, standing in a pool of it. It’s a sight to behold, and you’re unable to tear your gaze away from him. Slowly, your finger goes to the capture button, taking a photo of the scene. You duck back into the passage, checking to see how the shot turned out – and chills run down your spine as Barbatos seems to be looking straight into the lens.

“Tsk, tsk.” Gloved fingers tightly wrap around your wrist, forcing you to turn around to meet a dark gaze that you knew all too well. “I saw a little thing I didn’t like you tried to hide.”

“B-Barbatos!” His name leaves your lips in a squeak. You don’t know how he got to you so fast, but you do know it’s better not to question it. “I-I’m sorry, you didn’t show up earlier and I got curious and wanted to look for you so I ended up down here and then I found you but I didn’t want to disturb you and –”

He puts a halt to your rapid explanation with a single finger against your lips, his gaze softening. “I’m sorry, my dear. It’s not like me to forget or lose track of the time. I must make this up to you immediately.” He lets go of your wrist, examining you once over before taking a step back. “But first, I need to freshen up. Shall we go upstairs?”

With a nod, you follow him back up to the brighter hallways of the castle, though he pauses once you’re at the landing. “...And what are you going to do with that photo?”

“Oh.” You can feel the warmth rush to your cheeks. “I, uh … just kind of wanted it for myself.”

“Is that so?” You can hear the amusement in his voice, see the way his lips twist into a smirk. “Well, if that’s the case, I suppose I can let your little reconnaissance slide. Next time, however,” he leans in close, breath ghosting your ear. “Just ask.”

#SORRY this is late #wrapping these up for real now #will finish up the last couple this week #but yes we're also not normal about barb totally understand #obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me barbatos x reader #om! barbatos #obey me nightbringer #obey me fic #obey me drabble #writings #4000 follower celebration #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos

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talewrites · 1 month

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Fragile

Heyooo I’m writing this to get over my writing block for my book. All angst and comfort here 🤗

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’)

Warnings: fighting, blood, injury, panic attack, hyperventilating, not proof read

Summary: You are a runaway experiment from Stockman’s lab. An unexpected group of mutants come to your rescue. How did they know how to find you?

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You were freezing and exhausted.

The city was quiet as the darkness ebbed closer to early morning hours. You had been running for hours now, somehow they always found your hiding spot. You whipped around a corner into another countless dark alley way.

A flinch and a small yelp of pain left you as your bare feet tread across broken glass. You risk a break and press your back into the cold brick of an apartment building as you take a moment to catch your breath. Daintily you lift your foot and pull out a sharp piece of broken glass, tossing away the piece and check the other foot.

Suddenly the screech of tires catches your attention and the adrenaline hits you again like a crashing wave. You’re running again before you can even think. You exit the alley and dart out into the street. A black van rounds the corner behind you and you sprint for the narrow opening between two apartment buildings. You practically slam into the concrete, bumping your shoulder and scraping your knee as you squeeze your tiny body past a build up of trash. The car pulls up by the opening and the door is thrown open as two men in black suits jump out and reach for you, but you scoot further down and make for the other side. They curse and order the driver to pull around the other side and cut you off as they try to fit through the opening behind you. But you’re faster. You stumble out onto the side walk and fall to your knees, panting hard, and scramble to your feet. The black van again comes into your peripheral vision but you’re already booking it down the street as fast as you can. They can’t catch you again, they just can’t. Not again.

The black van zooms past you and the tires squeal as they pull the car in front of you, blocking your path. You hear the footsteps of the other two men behind you and you quickly find an alley to your right, avoiding hands that reach for you.

In the icy chilled night air, you are sweating through the thin white smock. A dead end.

“No…. No no no no they can’t- ….” You frantically look around at the corners where brick and grey cement buildings meet, discarded trash piled up but nowhere to hide. You find a glass beer bottle and smash the bottom of it. The raggedy sound of your desperate gasps for breath fill the space, your back pressed hard into the slimy brick wall. Heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Polished leather shoes click as the group of men slowly approached you, spread out like they were ready to catch a frightened animal.

“Finally.” A man in a white lab coat stepped into the alley behind the men in suits. “You stay right there. Before we go back, we are going to have a nice long “talk” about your behavior….”

Several of the men reached to their belts for a wand that extended into a short metal rod with electricity sparking at the tips, and another man walked over to a pile of trash and pulled out the broken leg of a wooden table.

The man chuckled, watching your eyes widen with fear as you trembled in your defensive position. He pulled a notepad out of his jacket pocket and clicked a pen.

“I will be observing if this event triggers a desired response. You may begin.” The armed men all suddenly lunged forward.

“Finally.”

A large flash of green and red suddenly descended from above and landed right on top of the man closest to you, making you flinch with fright.

A whoop sounded from above and everyone stopped to look up as another large being flipped in the air and landed in front of you in a showy flourish of waving nunchucks.

“Step away from the babe!” The orange clad being said heroically, looking over his shoulder to throw you a wink.

Your eyes were wide as your whole body tensed, frozen in place. His face almost didn’t look…. human.

Like Bebop and Rocksteady.

Another thud brought your attention to a large blue clad being that landed next to the red one.

“Raph, I said to wait until I gave the order!” He whisper yelled. Making the red one, Raph, grunt and step off the man he was standing on.

“Seemed to me that Stockman already gave the order. You think I was just gonna sit by and watch?”

The men in suits had started surrounding the red and blue mutants, while the orange protectively stood in front of you spinning his nunchucks.

You lowered the broken bottle in your hands marginally, sensing that the new arrivals didn’t have intention to harm you. When suddenly a fourth one in a purple mask landed right next to you, making you jump with surprise, the bottle flying from your hand and shattering nearby.

“My data indicates that this is indeed the supposed experiment that escaped from the Foot Clan’s secret laboratory approximately 4 hours ago.” He spoke calmly while you tried to catch your breath, panic rising again in your throat as your back slid down the wall until you were sat on the ground.

“Yeah, we gathered that, brainiac.” Raph gruffly sassed.

“The chip we’ve been tracking is still active. Leo?” Said the supposed brainiac.

“Shut it down Donnie, we’ll take care of this.” Ordered Leo, as he turned and faced Stockman.

“Right.” Donnie knelt next to you and suddenly looked nervous. He gave you a very awkward smile before continuing.

“Sorry, I just need to see your arm for a minute. Can I touch you?” He asked calmly.

It was clear that you were trying very hard to suppress a panic attack. Adrenaline still pumped through your veins and you were scared half to death. But this mutant was the first being in over a year to ask your permission before doing anything to you. So you swallowed your fear and gave a trembling nod.

The purple mutant, Donnie, looked at you seriously for a moment before returning your nod. “Okay, I’m going to touch you now…” he said as he gently took your arm.

You still flinched on instinct, and took in a sharp inhale of breath, trying to steady your nerves.

Donnie muttered a quick apology. One of the men in suits was suddenly thrown into the wall near you, startling you almost out of your skin. Making you practically leap into Donnie’s arms.

“Hey, watch it Mikey!” He shouted to the orange banded mutant.

“Whoops, sorry dudette!” Mikey paused his fight to wave over at you apologetically.

You found yourself half in the embrace of Donnie, who looked down at you and giggled nervously. You instinctively flinched out of his embrace, but remained near. You didn’t want to get any closer to the unconscious man in the suit.

“Sorry… let’s try that again. Can I… touch your arm? I need to find the chip.” He gently took your arm after you gave a quick nod and he felt around your upper arm for a little bump. You squirmed a little when he found it.

“There! Okay. I’m really sorry but I need to take it out of you. This might sting a little-“ before you could process what he said you felt a sharp pinch in your arm. You panicked. Your head shot up and you started to hyperventilate. You tried to find something to focus on like you did in the lab, and watched as the orange, blue, and red mutants chased Stockman back to his van. The coward leaving behind his unconscious men and shouting at them that he wasn’t going to give up on finding you. The three mutants, you distantly observed from their backs, looked almost like turtles.

The pinching in your arm stopped, but your breathing wasn’t slowing down. You felt a three fingered hand on your shoulder begin to shake you, the other turtle mutants turning around and looking back at you with surprise as Stockman drove off. Your vision got hazy. The world seemed to slow down as you watched the three turtle men run towards you with expressions of worry on their faces. The fourth one was shouting something to them from beside you as he placed his hand over your diaphragm to steady you. His face came into your vision, expression serious as you tried to make out the words he was speaking. ‘Breath… just breath…’ you could make out from the shape of his lips.

That was the last thing you saw before darkness overtook you, and you passed out.

Part 2 :]

#tmnt x reader #tmnt bayverse x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2016 #tmnt imagine #tmnt reader insert #tmnt imagines #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt fanfic #tmnt 2014 x reader #tmnt 2014 #bayverse donatello x reader

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pathetichimbos · 7 months

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First Meeting - Part One

((part two here))

Thomas Hewitt/GN!Reader

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You've run away from home, hitchhiking around Texas as you come up with your next plan, only to find that life has plans of its own when a simple ride with a group of friends lands you at a lone gas station in Travis County, drawn to a mysterious man most seem to avoid.

---

You take another step, the heat of the steaming concrete seeping in through the soles of your shoes, making you cringe. Why you would ever choose to run away in the middle of July in blistering Texas was a mystery to all, and not even you could come up with a plausible excuse.

It's been well over a month since you up and left your home, the overbearing presence of your mother's alcoholism and your step father's compliance becoming too much to handle any longer, even if it meant heading out into the excruciating heat with nothing but the clothes on your back and the bag on your shoulder to your name.

The small amount of cash you spent months saving was slowly beginning to dwindle, the concept of southern hospitality apparently lost to most, given that almost everyone has expected some sort of something in exchange for letting you hitch a ride to a place they were already headed.

You let out a sigh, licking your chapped lips as your dirt stained jeans scrap against your legs with every step, the sun beating down against your shoulders harshly, making you wonder what exactly was keeping you from laying on the grass and giving in to the vultures watching you virtually waste away.

You continue your march forward, the quiet sound of an engine beginning to make its presence known behind you, making you turn to see a truck crossing the horizon.

You slow your pace, thumb sticking out as you watch the truck begin to slow its pace, coming to a stop beside you.

The back passenger door swings open, a young man already moving over to the middle seat as he calls out to you, "Come on in!"

"Thanks." You climb into the truck, shutting the door as the driver begins to pull off.

The truck itself was rather full, two people in the front and now, thanks to you, three in the back.

“Where ya headed?” The driver asks, the truck quickly gaining its speed again.

“Wherever.” You shrug, “Next gas station's fine by me.”

You sigh, the truck's shitty AC feeling like heaven as you lean against the seat, letting your aching body rest for a few moments.

"Can do!" The driver responds in a chipper tone, a mood most of the car's passengers seemed to share.

There were three boys and one girl in total, and over the course of the next few minutes, you learned their names.

Trent was driving, a loud younger man with a kind smile and a lack of smarts. His girlfriend, Katie, seemed to share similar traits, seatbelt forgotten at her side as she turned fully in the passenger seat to look at you while you chatted.

The two boys in the back were Kyle and Jessie, twins who seemed pleasant enough.

The conversation flow stays light and airy as the five of you chat about small things, while you do your best to guide the conversation away from yourself.

“So,” Jesse finally asks, “What are you doing, hitchhiking in the middle of nowhere?”

You shrug, glancing at the empty fields as they zoom past, the overgrown weeds and grass telling you that no one has owned any of this land in quite some time, "…Fresh start. Seeing the world from a new perspective."

“That sounds exciting!” Katie giggles, leaning against her seat as she faces you, her accent giving way that they aren't locals.

“I suppose so. Y'all are from Nebraska, right? What’s got y'all down this way?” You do your best to steer the conversation back to them.

“Trent has some family down this way we’re going to visit for graduation.” Katie smiles.

“Sounds fun.” You return her smile, turning back to the window.

You close your eyes as the rest of them continue talking, enjoying the slight breeze drifting from the front of the truck.

“Oh, look! There’s a gas station that way!” Katie's voice catches your attention as she points out a large red sign that reads:

‘Great BBQ

GAS TIRES CLOTHES’.

You sigh, your stomach clenching at the thought of food. The last people who gave you a ride were kind enough to give you a sandwich, but that was three days ago and your stomach was protesting this unintentional starving.

After a few minutes the truck comes to a stop and the five of you climb out. You stretch for a moment, weighing your options before deciding to head inside the small station, trying to see how far you could make your last few dollars stretch.

It was a dingy old station, for sure. The white paint peeling harshly under the unrelenting sun, the signs worn and tattered from years of exposure, the two measly pumps rusted and seemingly unused for at least a decade.

The four people behind you split up, the twins going to find a restroom while the couple follows you inside.

The inside was just as small as the outside looked, and didn't seem to fare much better. A checkout counter on the right and a deli counter to the left, made a skinny walkway to the small dining area, a few shelves of old products scattered about, none of it looking properly edible but all if it makes your stomach growl painfully.

An older woman stands behind the counter, leaning on it as she speaks to the sheriff on the other side, an older man as well, but not quite as old as her.

“Afternoon, sheriff, ma'am.” You greet them with a polite smile, stepping deeper into the small store.

“Afternoon.” The sheriff tilts his hat, sucking on the tobacco stuck behind his bottom lip before turning back to the woman, who simply gives you a nod in return.

Your eyes wander around the old, tattered building, miscellaneous decorations scattered about the walls,

You thought it to be a miracle that this place was up and running at all, given how desolate the town it resided in seemed to be.

As you look through the old coke cooler shoved in the corner, absent-mindedly listening to the couple make small talk with the sheriff and clerk, a thud echoes on the old, creaking wood, pulling your attention to the back of the store.

You take a few steps to the corner, peaking around it as you look for the source of the noise.

A man stands next to the open back door, stretching in front of a large stack of boxes as if he had just carried them in.

He doesn't pay you any mind as you stare for a few moments longer, not yet noticing you peeking around the corner.

He was tall, taller than most people, with wide shoulders and strong arms to match.

His long black curls hang to his shoulders, seemingly held down by some sort of straps wrapped around his head.

He finally turns, brown eyes catching yours as you realize you're staring. A heat rises to your cheeks as you glance away, feeling a bit embarrassed over being caught. After all, you had been living on the streets for almost two months now, and the dirt embedded in your clothes hid that fact just about as much as the tangles in your dirty hair did.

A low, aggravated huff catches your attention again, pulling you from your embarrassment as you glance back over. With this new angle you could see his face much more clearly, including the dark, seemingly handmade leather mask covering the bottom half of his face and nose.

He glares at the boxes in front of him, intense eyes seemingly annoyed, as if his frustration alone could make them move to the front of the store.

With a newfound sense of confidence, or perhaps foolishness, you take a small step from around the corner, curious eyes watching the stranger in front of you.

Tense, cautious eyes stare back at you as the man furrows his brows, watching you take another step closer.

"Hi…" You give a small smile, leaning back on the heels of your feet, hands wringing behind your back, "…My name's Y/N…"

He looks you up and down, as if trying to decide what to think about you, not saying a word.

Unsure what to do next, you nod towards the boxes, "…Need any help?"

His stare doesn't break, only shifting to one of confusion as he contemplates your question.

…No one ever offered to help him. In fact, most people looked to him for help. So, why the hell were you offering?

A beat of silence passes and you shrug, "I mean, it just seems like a lot for one person to carry, and I've got nothing better to do…" Another beat passes and you begin to wonder if you made a mistake, bothering this poor man and distracting him from his work, "…Not that I don't think you can't handle it or anything, I just thought I'd offer in case it was--"

"Thomas!" A voice stops you in your tracks, causing both of you to look back to the sheriff who was now staring the two of you down, "Have you finished carryin' them boxes in here?"

He shakes his head.

"Then quit your yappin' and get to it!"

Thomas sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly, a weary look on his face as he turns to walk back outside to the sheriff's car parked out back.

"Here, let me…" You offer again, this time grabbing a box off the top of the pile, "It goes to the front counter, right?"

Thomas looks back to you, the confused look still lingering in his eyes as he nods.

You give another small smile over the heavy box, arms straining as you lug it up to the front of the store. The sheriff and clerk pay you no mind as they continue talking with the couple, though the conversation seemed mostly one sided at this point, with the clerk paying more attention to her newly lit cigarette than the couple.

"No, see, that roads been closed for the time bein'." You hear the sheriff explain in his heavy southern accent as you drop the box on the counter behind him, "Kept havin' folks lose bumpers and blow tires and what not on all them damn potholes."

"Is there an another way to get there then?" Trent asks, obvious disappointment in his voice from finding out their planned route was no longer available.

"Well, sure. I can show you the way." He turns back to the clerk, "Hand me that map, Mama.

The rest of the conversation falls into the background as you walk to the back again, picking up another box and seeing Thomas had brought in two more.

You huff a little, pushing the limits of your weakened arms as you try to lift two boxes.

You manage to drag them to the front of the store, this time electing to leave them beside the counter rather than on top with the first one.

"…And after you pass the old meat factory right here, you'll take the second left and hit the highway again." The sheriff's directions fade back into earshot as you huff again, your lack of food leaving your muscles especially weak against the heft of the boxes.

The tingle in your forearms slowly begins to subside as you turn to walk back for another, only to see Thomas carrying the last of the four boxes as if they were made of air.

Your eyes follow him as he sets the boxes on the counter before picking up the two you had left on the floor as well, dropping them next to the others.

You let out a small huff of laughter at his pure strength, watching the originally closed off and curt clerk soften as she thanks Thomas for carrying the boxes for her.

Meanwhile the sheriff waves off the couple, the honk of the truck horn echoing through the thin walls as the twins become impatient with their friends taking too long. The couple thanks him profusely, hurrying out of the store as they rush to join their friends and get back on the road.

The older man watches through the dusty screen door as the group sets off, letting out a low chuckle as he seemingly forgets your existence, "The Lord's lookin' out for us today, Mama. Tell Tommy to get his ass to the house!"

You blink in confusion as the sheriff rushes past the two of you, the clerk quickly yelling after him, “Damnit Hoyt, the boy's right here--”

He ignores her as well, slamming the back door shut before you could hear the loud squeal of spinning tires set off onto the highway.

She huffs from behind the counter, obviously annoyed with the sheriff's antics, “You better head on home, Thomas, Lord knows he'll make it everyone's problem if he makes it there before you do.”

Thomas sighs and nods his head, already heading to the front door.

You watch as he leaves, the creak of the old screen door screeching through the otherwise quiet store.

"You gonna buy somethin' or stand there with an empty head all day?" The clerk asks, pulling you back to reality as she raises an eyebrow through her thick glasses.

You blink for a second, "Oh, uh, yes ma'am."

You turn back to the small selection, grabbing a couple of snacks and a bottle of water from the cooler,

You set them on the counter, digging through your bag and pulling out a couple of ones.

"Ain't got no change." She takes the crumbled bills, smoothing them out as she opens her register.

"That's fine…" You sigh, deciding losing a few extra coins was worth it to get some food in your system.

She shuts the metal drawer with a bit of force as you thank her, shoving everything into your bag before flinging it over your shoulder and heading out into the Texas heat once again.

#first meeting #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x s/o #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x s/o

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madhatterbri · 7 months

Text

Where You Belong | K.M.

Summary: Kol doesn't like the two of being broken up. He reminds you where you belong.

You looked at your watch and sighed. Another date had no showed. You cursed under your breath. All the secret meet ups you had with him seemed like a waste now. This guy was one of the good ones. He was a lawyer with a love for animals and history. Importantly, his family was nowhere near New Orleans.

"Kol got another one?" Your friend asked while wiping the bar down. They were closing for the night. After another no show, you decided to hang out with her and walk her home.

"Yeah. I thought I had outsmarted him but he has spies all over," you whined while rubbing your temples in frustration. You turned to see a man staring at you from outside the closed bar. He looked away when your eyes locked on to his. "Perfect example but at least that one sticks out like a sore thumb. I can't imagine how many are participating in my tours,"

Your tour guide career is how you met Kol Mikaelson. At first, he was sweet and constantly flirted with you. He would take your tours once a day no matter the weather. At the end of one tour he asked you out. You said yes and the rest led you here.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Your friend asked over her shoulder while counting the money in the register.

Your eyes widened at her in disbelief. Talk to the man that wants to ensure you are a spinster once you are old. The same man that acts before thinking and loves to cause mayhem. You would have a better conversation with a wall.

"Talk to the man that will go hours covered in blood? The same man that has caused my dates to either leave town, never talk to me again, or go missing?" You asked while using your fingers to count. "Sure let me just walk over to his family's place and speak to him,"

"I think you should. You have to set up boundaries with him," she replied. Boundaries. That is something he knows nothing about. "You are allergic to cats so being a crazy old cat lady isn't in your future. Let's get out of here,"

The walk to your friend's place consisted if her hyping you up to talk to him. The guy from earlier followed you. At least you knew the two of you would be safe. Some of the tourists around here could be a little aggressive when drunk.

You started asking the guy questions about your current situation. You felt it would be rude to not include him. He must not have been much of a talker because he didn't answer.

"Have a good night. Talk to him. Maybe you two can come to some sort of agreement,"

"Yeah, sure, come on Bob. I'm not dating this one so please don't report her to Kol," you shouted at him.

Your friend snorted and walked inside her apartment complex.

Thoughts zoomed through your mind on how to deal with the jealous ex-boyfriend. During your time together he was always so possessive.

You should have known you would never date another person in New Orleans again. No. There was no way you were going to think like that. He had to let you go once and for all.

"Come on, Bob. We are going to your boss," you announced and made your way to the Mikaelson home.

"Kol Mikaelson!" You yelled while looking for him. You walked down hallways until you saw him at his favorite place. He sat at a desk in his room. An opened book and alcohol in his hand to busy himself on the Friday night.

"Darling, must you be so loud? Hope is sleeping," he groaned in annoyance. Another night of babysitting duties while the others go on another killing spree adventure. You walked to him and immediately saw the blood on his collar.

"Wonderful. Blood on your shirt. I guess this one gave you some hassle about wanting to date me," you wondered. "He had a family you know,"

"The bloody fool still has a family. He isn't dead," he countered while feeling insulted. The man had given Kol some trouble before a broken nose cleared up their misunderstanding. "Besides he couldn't even win a fight,"

"A mortal couldn't win a fight against a thousand year old vampire? The shame that man has brought on all mortals,"

"You belong here, my love. I am never going to stop. Even if I have to kill one hundred men,"

#fanfiction #imagine #the originals #kol mikaelson #kol tvd #kol the originals #kol mikaelson x you #kol mikaelson x reader

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leafostuff · 2 months

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A Tent for the two of us [FT. Weeekly Jihan]

tags: Fluff, huddle for warmth, classmates to lovers Words: 2.8K Author's Note: Shoutout to @octoberautumnbox, @libraryoferos and @4m1rz For Beta reading and Editing this lovely piece, I hope you will all enjoy reading this fic like I enjoyed writing this fic.

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You have to admit: you don't get the charm behind camping.

Like seriously, what is the fun of going to a forest in the middle of nowhere, having no normal food, and no reception, to add salt to the injury you have to suffer this experience with your school, which already is a pain in itself since you’re not the most popular guy in school,

And that is not even the worst part…

“What do you mean you didn't bring a tent??” your teacher asked, her eyes looking at you with an aura of annoyance.

Even after telling your parents about the trip 2 months in advance, reminding them almost daily 2 weeks before the trip, the only thing you were able to get was a sleeping bag and a rolling mattress. However, it's not like you could have blamed them, they were so busy you are surprised that they even had the time to make you a bag for the camping trip in the first place.

“My parents thought I wouldn't need it, since we are sleeping inside a building” You tried to explain your parent’s very questionable logic, feeling your teacher's face palming inside her mind.

“For the second day! On the first day, we are sleeping in tents. Weren't they present in the Zoom meeting about the trip?” She answered and asked simultaneously. You knew your parents didn't have the time to join the Zoom meeting so you had to join the meeting on mute and with no camera.

“If it's not a problem Ms. Lee, I can sleep without a tent, my parents got me a sleeping bag and a matres-” you tried explaining as your teacher stopped you again.

“No no no no, I can't take responsibility for you, doing something like this, you can get a cold from sleeping outside,” she said, taking a deep sigh and rubbing her temples with both hands; Your situation was indeed a challenge for her to figure out. “Did you talk with any of the boys? Maybe they could share their tent with you?” she asked.

“I already asked them, and all of their tents are either too small to have two or they are already two inside of a tent,” you explain as another sigh comes from your teacher. It was already close to the lights-out hour and you didn’t have a place to sleep in, as the desperation of Ms. Lee was at its peak.

“Good night, Ms. Lee,” a girly voice was heard from behind you, looking back you see Han Jihyo, one of your classmates going toward her tent, she was already ready for sleep with her pink coloured pyjamas, but as she passed near both of you her smile turned into a worried look.

“Is everything ok? Did something happen?” the girl asked, walking near you as she joined you and your teacher’s conversation.

“Well Seungkwan forgot a tent for the trip, so he doesn't have somewhere to sleep for the first night,” Ms. Lee explained, “Right now we are trying to think of ideas of where he could sleep that won't get him sick.”

“Oh, if this is the problem, I could let you sleep in my tent Seungkwan, it has enough space for someone else besides me” Jihan exclaimed, smiling brightly. However, both you and your teacher reacted very differently to what your classmate expected.

“No no no, I can't let this happen” Ms Lee stopped Jihyo, already throwing her idea to the pretend trash can. “I can't let a boy and a girl sleep in the same tent,” she added as you were quick to join on your teacher’s side.

“Oh come on, look at me: I am wearing full pyjamas, so he won't see any private parts of my body,” she exclaimed. “And besides, I don't mind sharing a tent with a guy,” she added, reassuring your teacher.

“I agree with Ms Lee, Jihyo” You added. Your face heated from the idea “What if someone else finds me sleeping in your tent? I would be called a pervert!” you added.

“Well my tent is not close to the other girls’ tents, so they won't know you are here,” she counters your argument without any hesitation, determined to let you sleep at her tent, “And besides Ms. Lee, this is the best solution we have right now,” she added.

A minute of silence, your teacher is thinking about everything meanwhile many questions run through your head: Why is she helping you? You both never really talked at all during the school year, so offering help is very suspicious of her. You look into Jihyo’s eyes, feeling the warmth in them as you feel a bit less uncomfortable with her idea.

A loud sigh finally comes from Ms Lee as in heavy defeat she says: “Okay, Seungkwan can sleep in your tent” In reaction to this your face turned surprised while Jihyo’s face brightened up. “go bring your stuff so you can get ready to sleep, it's already lights out time” Ms Lee added as you walked toward your bags.

“Well, I guess this is happening, might as well make the most out of it” you think to yourself, but you can’t help but notice your mouth forms a weak smile. Were you happy that she let you sleep in her tent?

~-~-~-~

Well… Jihyo’s tent was as big as she said it was.

Scratch that, it might as well be a family-sized tent with how spacious it was, having enough space for a family of 5 to comfortably rest there. “See? I told you it wasn’t a problem of space for me,” she exclaimed, a cute grin forming on her face.

“Wow, do your parents own HYBE or something?” you jokingly ask while the girl casually laughs at your comment.

“Heh, they might as well do, well let's get in, we should head to sleep,” she said as she entered as you followed her, grabbing your baggage and dragging it inside.

“So” She says through a small yawn “This is your side, you can put your bag here” Jihyo said, pointing toward the left side of the tent you obliged, letting your bag fall to let you get out your sleeping bag and mattress. “By the way, my parents brought me a big one so we can both sleep in the same one,” she added.

“It's okay, I have my mattress,” you said while getting the sleeping bag out, now attempting to take the mattress out of your bag. “I'm not that stupid to forget that” you add, looking into your bag to try and get out your mattress, after a while, you finally manage to lay your mattress out. However, when Jihyo scans it she simply shakes her head in disappointment.

“Yeah right, I'm not letting you go to sleep with that mattress, it's too thin” she explained as she leaned her hand in to take the mattress of your hand, but her hand accidentally touched yours, her entire body suddenly stiffened as she feels like she touched the inside of a freezer.

“OH GOD! And you are already so cold,” she added as she shook her hand, trying to let it get some warmth from the movement. “There is NO CHANCE you are sleeping on your mattress, you are sleeping on mine and this is final!” she adds. You realize that you do not have any way of avoiding sleeping her way, so you sigh in a sign of giving up, laying yourself on her mattress.

The first thing you feel is how surprisingly soft this mattress feels, as if a herd of sheep voluntarily shaved their wool to donate it to the mattress.

“You see? My mattress is 20 times more comfortable than yours.” She giggled, seeing how you gave in to the softness while joining you on the mattress, however instead of a sleeping bag she pulled up her blanket, covering herself around it swiftly and her eyes turned themself toward you while a weak smile was forming on her face. Feeling puzzled you ask:

“What?”

“Heh, it's nothing, it's just…we never really talked before, have we? I think we are also in the same class, however, we never really spoke before…and here you are, in the same tent as me,” she explained.

“I mean yeah, I am not sitting” a Yawn takes over your voice. “close to you in any of the classes we share, so I guess we never really had the chance to talk,” you reply, trying your best not to fall asleep. “Are you not tired? It's like 11:30 PM,” you add, yawning as you get inside your sleeping bag while turning your head to the tent’s roof.

“Not really, like I'm like sleepy, but not…Sleepy, you know what I mean?” You could simply shake your head in confusion as Jihyo continued. “Like I'm not gonna fall asleep as soon as I close my eyes,” she explained.

“Well I do, and I'm gonna try to get some sleep because I doubt I could get sleep on the bus tomorrow,” you explain, remembering how earlier today during the ride you could hear the rest of your class (including Jihyo) talking and singing so loud you couldn't get even a second in peace.

“Oh…well good night,” she says, her tone still upbeat despite the tiredness filling her face as Jihyo simply turned her head to the other side, laying on her mattress as you copy her, trying to get sleep. However, as much as you wanted the tiredness to take over your body and let you fall asleep, another feeling has captured your body instead.

“Fuck…so cold” you internalize your thoughts, covering yourself with the sleeping bag. But the cold goes through, making you shiver lightly. Way to go to the student council that decided to plan the school trip in the middle of winter,. If this trip was 2 months from today the entire school would be much happier.

Suddenly you can feel movement in the mattress; as you turn your head to see what is going on, you see your tentmate going through her backpack, looking annoyed. After a minute or so she finally finds what she is looking for. “Have this.”

The girl throws something at you, as you pick it up you see it read the word “heat pack.” “Everyone probably can hear you freezing. You should warm yourself,” Jihyo adds.

“Uhh thanks, but I don't think it’s necces-”

“No buts,” she interrupts, giving you a light smack on your head with the heat pack, “you are going to sleep with the heat pack, end of the argument,” she retorts, but even her angry face is followed with a pout that can only be described as cute, not being able to help yourself but slightly blush.

You sigh, “OK, thank you.”

“You're welcome, now let's get some sleep,” she says, turning her head again and going back to sleep. You manage to do the same for a second or two, but now you can't help but think about the situation, realizing how the girl didn’t object that hard into sharing a tent with you, especially when you two are a boy and a girl, sleeping together in the same place.

If it wasn't for Jihyo, you would also have to sleep outside in the cold. Deep inside you were hoping someone would help you get a place to sleep in, even though on the outside you were adamant about sleeping outside, so in a sense you can say that she saved your trip by keeping you from getting sick.

In a sense she saved you.

“I do need to be thankful, right?” you rhetorically ask yourself, sighing as you slowly turn yourself. However, instead of seeing a sleeping Jihyo near you, she was fully awake, looking into your eyes.

“Can't sleep as well?” she faintly asks, and surprised by her being awake you find yourself moving backward.

“Yeah…” you simply whisper as you move closer to her again, your eyes looking at the ceiling of the tent, an awkward silence is forming between you two for a good 10 seconds or so, but it comes to an end as you mutter:

“I just wanted to say thank you…for like…you know…” Your cheeks turn a small shade of pink, slowly heating up, Jihyo in the meanwhile can't help but smile at your shyness.

“I know?” she asks, obvious that she was acting like she didn't know what you want to say You simply just take a deep breath and continue talking, throwing the awkwardness to the side.

“Thank you for letting me sleep in your tent.” You muster up the courage to say those words to your tentmate, your eyes magnetically find themself looking at hers. “And sorry if I was so against the idea before.”

“Oh it's ok Oppa, it's what friends do.” Her right-hand finds itself on your shoulder while her eyes join her mouth in forming a smile that might as well replace the heaters around your camping site, you can't help but slowly smile at her ba-.

“Wait did Jihyo just call you oppa?” you now realize how she was calling you as your face completely turns red, you have watched enough dramas to know what happens when a girl calls a guy Oppa

It was hard for you to deny that during the school year, you both were in the same class, so it wasn't hard for to form a small crush on Jihyo. While at first, you were pretty sure that you just liked her as a friend and nothing more, as time passed you couldn't help yourself but think about her: when you were trying to listen in class, during your video game sessions where you were hyper-focused on the game (Maybe that is why you always found yourself losing focus suddenly) and to when you were ready to close your eyes.

This serene moment of both of you looking into each other's eyes finally stops when she speaks, breaking the silence in half.

“Are you still cold Oppa?” she asked, looking at the heat pack she gave you. Touching it with your finger, you could feel how it isn’t warm anymore, you can't seem to recall how much time has passed since she gave you that heat pack.

“A little bit, yeah…” you answer. “Do you have another heat pack by chance?” you ask, but in response, your tentmate shakes her head. “No this was the only one I had,” she explains You can't help but sigh, but Jihyo’s words come next manage to catch you off guard.

“I…do have another way of warming up,” she says timidly. Although it's hard to see in the dark, you seem to notice that her cheeks are painted in a red blush, and it only takes you about 5 seconds or so to finally do the 2+2 in your mind as you can't help but mentally facepalm yourself.

“Only if it’s okay by you, I don't want to make you uncomfortable” she adds, you could feel the fluster in her voice. Even though you could feel yourself getting awkward more and more after she suggested that idea, you manage to say:

“It's okay…you can go ahead” you mutter, loud enough for her to hear you. It's almost impossible not to feel a bit warmer just by the smile of the girl near you, making you do the same.

“Okay, I will need you to come closer” she explains as you oblige, nudging close toward her enough that there is close to no space between the both of you. You can feel how her arms slowly but surely wrap around your body, you simply let yourself fall into her embrace, putting your hands around her back as well as you are now essentially cuddling together.

“Is it better?” she whispers to you, nodding in response. “Great” she yawned quietly. “mmm… you don't mind if I…” She closes her eyes and you feel the left side of the face resting itself on your chest. You could feel how soft her cheeks were as if there were giant marshmallows with how fluffy they were.

You giggle slightly at how cute Jihyo looks in your arms; when she was speaking to you before she looked confident, but now you can feel how deep inside when you know her she just becomes a soft, precious being, something that you must protect.

It's hard for you to stay awake so slowly you start closing your eyes as well, but before you fall fully asleep you mutter some words that you had no control over, in reaction your tentmate seems to giggle cutely.

“Hehe…I like you too oppa,” she says as well, eyes still closed as you both finally fall asleep, letting yourself get lost in your dreams, but in the newfound warmth of each other.

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Wow, a long Jihan fic...i am very proud of it, i hope you enjoyed reading this fic, again feel free to send asks in the Inbox.

I will see you all next time Leafies

#kpop fanfic #kpop #fluff #kpop fluff #weeekly jihan #weeekly #jihan #jihan icons #jihan moodboard

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lord-of-0blivion · 1 year

Text

Bash supes mood go!

-Prompt-

*Insert view of the watchtower* *cartoon zoom in to inside*

Hal Jordon just arrested a yellow lantern hanging around earth. Passing by the meeting room on the way to the holding area, Hal barely has time to notice the yellow core member depower when the ring flies away, both parties looking shocked.

Pan to the meeting room. Batman is, as always, sulking in a corner, Superman is scolding Connor. Phantom is chatting with Wonder Woman at the end of the table.

Out of nowhere, Superman is stopped mid sentence by a yellow light hovering in front of his face.

[Kal-El, you have the power to cause great fear]

Suddenly, it gets cut off by a great *snap*. Everyone turns to look at the sound, only to see Phantom, still seated but his head is now turned 180° starring straight at the ring. His eyes drift to Connor, the to supes, and finally back to the ring.

In an instant, Danny replaces the ring, floating between superman and Connor. With a mighty 'thunk' it (the ring) turns to dust against the reinforced far wall of the room.

Holding superman by the throat, Danny's face turns to a grimace, his mouth becomes what can only be described as a pit of living sawblades.

Whit a voice like pressure washing a chalkboard with glass dust in slow-motion, he shouts:

"LiStEn hERe YOU LitTLE shiIT! I wiILL sHOVEe the REmaINS of KrYPTon so FAr up yOUr asS, you'll NEver seE YOur POWers agAIN!!"

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dp prompt #batman #superman #the man of steel #wonder woman #hal jordan #green lanter corps #green lantern #king danny phantom #connor kent #kon el superboy

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thatwildnya · 13 days

Text

venti when griffin wifey disappears to nest

The anemo archon is freaking out after his wife has suddenly vanished without a trace. After hours of searching with the help of the Favonius Knights and Diluc he discovers she has made a nest in Dvalin's home to lay a clutch of eggs.

TW: none

notes: the format this is written in what we've named a headcanon drabble mix. it will start with hcs and have a drabble at the end or multiple sprinkled throughout it. these will be tagged as headcanon drabble mix, hc drabble mix, or [fandom]hcdm.

chitters and nickers

Wild: I've started playing genshin recently and it's been on my mind a lot. Decided to write somethin' on a whim. Might make more with the same prompt if this one gets a lot of attention.

nya: i wanna squish venti's cheeks

wifey's bird cat mix

european wildcat, white dove, 7 eggs

very likely this was not planned, Venti’s alcoholic tendencies often cause him to forget protection so it was only a matter of time it caught up to him

unexpected pregnancies with female griffins can be absolutely heart attack inducing due to their instincts kicking in immediately once their body realizes what’s happening. bird brains go into maximum overdrive and once it decides where it wants to nest they’re making a beeline to claim said spot and going builder mode asap.

so imagine the archon’s panic when you’re nowhere to be found after being sick and acting weird all week. poor guy is zooming all over the city alongside the knights and Diluc to find you. once he’s combed through the city he uses his godly powers to call for Dvalin’s assistance. but there’s no answer.

Equation: wifey acting odd + wifey missing + dragon friend not responding. Conclusion: something very bad happened. Solution: it is time for panic at the anemo.

shouts at some random pedestrian passing by to gather the knights and meet him at the lair. unfortunately he mistook the stranger as a knight them self due to wearing similar clothes. and on top of that this person was a foreigner. but he’s gone before the misunderstanding can be cleared. now hubby is thought to be missing. what an eventful day for Mondstadt.

creates a crater when he lands outside his friends home. said friend sticks his head out from the crumbling tower with blurry eyes. what was all this racket for? this is the second time he’s been so rudely awoken today! bro already lost hours of sleep from his wife barging in at 1AM to nest and lay eggs. wifey did what now.

the dragon’s grumpiness dissolves once the situation has been cleared. in fact he was laughing in the end. the image of a large number of humans scurrying around in search of a god’s wife thinking the worst when in actuality she’s enjoying baby time in arguably the safest place in the nation is hilarious!

but that’s not important right now you laid eggies sired by him he’s gonna be a dad! this twink of a god can’t contain his excitement. how many did you lay? when will they hatch? how big are they? have they developed enough to be able to hear his voice? can he hold them? too bad you can’t answer, doves can’t mimic sounds and you aren’t reverting back to human for a while.

has no problem with you nesting in Dvalin’s home. in fact he’s all for it. very few humans and monsters dare to intrude on the territory of the anemo dragon once called Storm Terror. no worries here! so long you had no issues he’d stand by your decision! y’know what they say, a mother knows best!

you are never left alone Venti makes sure there’s always one person he trusts to watch over you and your growing kids. if he could he’d be right there in the nest with his family 24/7. the issue is, however, that you’re the breadwinner of the family. and griffin moms to be won’t leave the eggs alone until they’ve hatched. not for food, water, nothing. avian feline mom’s have wills of steel.

it isn’t long before Venti realizes the problem. kids are not cheap to raise. (especially in this economy) so for the first time in history, the anemo archon begins the treacherous and traumatizing journey of job hunting. it was a grueling quest, one of hardships and difficulty like no other. his confidence and ego took many serious blows, wounds inflicted upon them so deep it was feared he might never recover. there were plenty of times he almost gave up, but he persevered! his family was counting on him, he couldn’t give up. and with the power of love and friendship, he was able to slay- jk he just became a part time knight and takes on quick jobs spread across his nation.

this is quite the change to his usual routine but it’s all worth it. every time he returns to his recently grown family is all the motivation he needs. can’t wait for the day he’ll be greeted by a chorus of chirps after a long day of work.

when he isn’t working he’s always near the nest, if he isn’t in it. and more likely than not he’s by a fire cooking up something for you to eat. he’s glad you’ll eat if food is in reach. man’s on his way to becoming a 5 star chef with how much he’s expanding his culinary skills.

when is baby time? it’s always baby time in this house. and everyone is invited to baby time. can’t help but squeal internally whenever you get excited at visitors. leaving the nest just to gently tug them over so they could see the eggs will always be the cutest thing you’ll do to him. how can he not smile when your feathered face shines with pride everytime you present his kids?

finally, the day comes. he’s in the middle of aiding Diluc unload supplies for Angel’s Share when the Mondstadt citizens are given a heart attack by Dvalin suddenly swooping overhead shouting for him to get his butt back to you. get ready folks, it’s time for round 2 of panic at the anemo!

adding a new crater in Dvalin's lawn he runs to your side with heaving lungs all winded and worried. but you seem completely fine? and so do the babies, albeit two are shivering from the chillness of the ruins and being wet having just hatched… wait a minute-

Did you really have to disappear like that? Especially since you’ve been acting strange the past week?

Your side of the bed was cold when he woke up and he thought you had already left for work. The day goes on as normal, some bard performances here, archon duties there, wine shenanigans, nothing out of the ordinary. Until your boss shows up demanding to know where you are just as he was about to take a post lunch nap.

Okay, there’s no need to panic yet. Maybe your boss forgot you weren’t supposed to be in today? Nope, it’s the middle of the week. Maybe you were late getting back from lunch? What do you mean you haven’t been in all day. Were you scheduled to work offsite? No? Okay, now it's time to panic.

He’s fearing the worst as he and the others search for you. His true identity may be a secret to most but that unfortunately wasn’t true for a certain large powerful group that had already stolen from him twice. He hopes this isn’t their doing.

Thankfully the search doesn’t last long. Once the city has been combed through he flies off to get help from Dvalin. His friend can’t help but laugh when told what was going on. That’s when it’s revealed you’ve been in his lair the whole time.

Just as the dragon said, you’ve taken residence in his lair. Showing up in the middle of the night without warning to build a nest. So that’s where all the missing clothes, blankets, and pillows went. Used as cushions for the nest you’ve built in the middle of the night. The nest, might I add, looks very comfortable. You’re loafing self emits a blissful aura, wings drooping lazily at your side and talons tucked under your chest.

Doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Opts for a third option to beeline to you for a hug. But there will be no hugs for him. Dvalin manages to grab him before he can take a few steps.

“I would advise against this approach, Barbatos.” the anemo dragon warns while the archon flails in his talons whining, “less you desire a delay in meeting your offspring.”

The bard freezes at his words. Offspring? Does he mean you were…?

Venti is plopped down a few steps away from you, this time waiting for your acknowledgement before coming close. You are more than happy to have him there. Thank you Dvalin for intercepting, you’d be on guard if you’d seen your husband suddenly running full speed at you.

You raise your wings slightly, doing mini flaps as you call out to him in your beautiful avian voice with enthusiasm. You are practically vibrating in excitement as your mate comes to join you in your nest made of natural and man made materials. The same could be said for him.

“Lemme see, lemme see, lemme see!” Venti claps impatiently, ready to see the incubating life underneath your feathers. His eyes somehow manage to get even wider as you sit up. You puff up your chest feathers, head raised high with pride as you reveal the seven eggs you’d laid hours ago.

Venti’s eyes are sparkling with happy tears. Head in hands as he leans forward on his elbows, he studies his growing babies in awe. It pleased him to no end that the shells were decorated in the colors of anemo. If that didn’t scream who sired these eggs then he didn’t know what would.

Hand slightly reaching out, he had intended to wait for the okay like before. But you were offended he had the audacity to think he had to get permission to touch what he had helped to create. And you were going to make your feelings very clear.

Without warning you lunge forward. Small beak clamping on his shirt to jerk him over the edge. The bard lets out a startled yelp, face planting into your wing. Despite being a combination of smaller species of the feline and avian family, you were still quite strong.

“Ow ow ow, was that really necessary love dove?” He rubs his nose. Beak snaps are your reply, pouting at him to hurry up. Your impatience was so great he was denied the option to shake out his hat of feathers and twigs, getting robbed of his head wear. Okay he gets the memo sheesh!

The remainder of the evening is spent snuggled in that nest. Songs of humans and birds are heard late into the night, the voice of a dragon chiming in at times. Peace befalls the land of anemo.

Until it’s shattered by a frantic legion of knights still searching for their god and his wife hours later.

~ time skip yay ~

Venti sobs, clutching his bundle of joy to his chest. It had been nearly half an hour since his firstborn had entered the world yet somehow the tears kept flowing. No matter how hard he tried, the tears wouldn’t halt. But could you really blame him?

“You’re going to hyperventilate at this rate. It’s a wonder you haven’t already.”

“I-I-I *sniffle* can’t h-hel- *sob* help i-it!” he hugs his firstborn closer, blurry gaze never leaving his child’s face. “Sh-she-she’s *hiccup* s-so beau- *sniffle* beautiful!” the dragon rolled his eyes. How much longer did he have to listen to his crying?

“Get a hold of yourself. Your hatchlings won’t benefit if both parents are unable to assist due to being unconscious.”

Venti gives a final sniffle before tilting his head up in an attempt to stop the tears. He blinks rapidly, steadying his breath. A quick wipe of the sleeve and it’s back to staring.

He wanted to see every little thing she did. His perfect little feathered treasure.

The hatchling had somehow managed to sleep through his whole cry fest. Cozily wrapped in a quilt and blissfully resting from her first big hurdle. Not even a day old and she had already passed the most important milestone of her life, breaking the shell that had protected her as she grew.

He quickly wiped his eyes again. He’d cried enough today.

Suddenly she yawned, beak opening wide and talons outstretching. Eyes blinking open, she looks up at her father’s puffy face. Venti smiles warmly at her, his own eyes giving her loving slow blinks. His daughter returns the gesture.

She begins to wiggle in his hold, talons reaching to grab his shirt in an attempt to pull herself closer to his face. To save his daughter the trouble he lifts her closer. He chuckles as he nuzzles her face hearing her curious sniffs.

“Hello, little one,” he whispers quietly, planting a kiss on her forehead, “the winds welcome you into the world.”

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myseungsunglove · 6 months

Text

The Complication of Connecting | Bc

Characters: Chan x Reader, Seungmin, Han

Warnings: Angst, reader has a panic attack

Word Count: 3k

Summary: The reader wakes to a dark room, no Chan in sight and too many notifications to count on her phone. As the notifications roll in, she is left to continue to deal with the aftermath of the airport, sending her into a full blown spiral and questioning if she did the right thing by getting involved with Chan, whom she barely knows, and coming to LA filled with delusion and hope.

A/N: Part 4. For The Master of Flirting - it’s been a month and a half. I’m not sure if there is even anyone out there waiting for this one. I’m hoping I’ll get part 5 out a lot more quickly! Thanks for anyone that is still around! It seems people are pretty done with this story which I understand. I drug it out too long. There should be one more part, but knowing the high loss of interest, I’m gonna have to be super inspired to wrap this one up. I’m really sorry about dragging this out so that it wasn’t what people hoped for.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

Feedback Welcome

「© October 21, 2023 by mysweethannie」

You wake to a dark room, your eyes blinking slowly as you try to gather your bearings. For a moment, you forget where you are and your heart begins racing. You bolt straight up, looking around in a panic when the realization finally hits you. You’re in LA. You came here to meet Chan and the boys.

The day comes rushing back to you and you fall back onto your pillows, your hands covering your face as you take a deep breath.

It’s then that you realize that Chan isn’t beside you anymore. In fact, his room appears to be empty from where you’re laying on the bed. You reach over on the nightstand and grab your phone. It immediately buzzes in your hand. Not once, not twice, but five times in a row.

“God damn, chill out,” you mumble as you hold it up to your face to unlock it. As your home screen appears, your eyes widen. You have 50+ unread texts and 7 missed phone calls. Your heart begins to thump rapidly in your chest, worried that something terrible has happened to someone in your family.

Your first instinct is to check your messages, so you open up your texts and have messages from everyone in your family. In addition to them, every friend that you have whether you are close or not, seems to have sent you a message. That’s when it hit you. They all know.

You hadn’t mentioned your trip or at least the specifics of your trip. You had given everyone a vague idea of where you were going, but no actual details as to why you were flying to LA in August.

You open your mom’s text first.

Mom: Y/n, honey, what’s going on?

Mom: I saw this on FB and your brother tells me it’s definitely you. *video attached*

With a deep sigh, you open up the video that your mom sent, expecting to see the video of you singing on instagram or something like it from Instagram. You weren’t expecting what you saw instead.

You're being surrounded by tons of people in the airport, right at the time when you really started to panic. You groan as you watch the focus change to Chan. His stride is quick and purposeful. And angry, you notice. He shoves through the crowd, no regard for his own safety to get to you. Immediately his arms are around you. The video zooms in just as he whispers in your ear and kisses your forehead.

You drop your phone on the bed with a thud.

“No,” you let out a small sob. “Why the hell did I come here?” It’s then that you start crying. Your body wracks with the force of the tears, but no sounds come out of you. The realization that all those messages and missed phone calls are likely related to that video or pictures of the same interaction makes you cry harder. Your phone starts buzzing beside you and it’s your sister calling.

“Oh fuck this,” you grit out, jumping up out of the bed. You ignore the call and step into Chan’s room, but he is nowhere to be found. Your phone buzzes in your hand again and it makes you about lose your mind. You storm back into your room, your breaths getting more shallow with each one you try to take. You wrench open the door to your room and discover that the hall is empty. You are starting to feel like you can’t breathe, gasping for air. Desperately, you stumble across the hall and start beating on the first door you come to. You aren’t sure if it’s Seungmin’s or Han’s, but at this point you don’t care.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you hear from behind the door as you continue to beat the door. “For fuck’s sake, where’s the fire?” Seungmin growls as he pulls open the door.

Immediately you burst into tears again, falling toward him. Thankfully he is paying attention and he catches you swiftly, his arms engulfing you. Your phone rings again and this is your absolute breaking point.

“Fuck the fuck off!” you scream and throw your phone down the hall, the sob that accompanies your outburst a heartbreaking sound.

“Shit, y/n,” Seungmin says quietly as he pulls you into his room. “Han! Han!” he yells into the next room and quickly, Han is there too.

“Oh no,” he mumbles, as Seungmin hands you off to Han and runs back into the hall to retrieve your phone. Despite the current situation, he knows you will want it eventually even if your current relationship with the device is tumultuous at best.

Han walks you over to Seungmin’s bed and sits with you as you continue to cry. He leans back against the pillows and takes you with him, his hand rubbing gently on your back.

“Y/N, breathe with me,” he says, taking your hand and placing it on his chest as he takes a deep breath in. You feel the rise and fall of his broad chest, but you still can’t control your breathing. “With me,” he reminds you, holding your hand over his heart as he takes another deep breath. You inhale deep this time, your breath shaky and unsure as you focus on the movement of Han’s chest underneath your small hand. He lets out the breath and you do as well. He takes several more breaths with you before you are able to feel like you have control over your own body again.

“Where’s Chan?” Han asks to no one in particular.

“I don’t know,” you murmur against Han’s chest. “I woke up and he,” tears were falling still so you took another deep and shaky breath. “And he was gone. Then my phone started buzzing and buzzing. The video. The text. The phone calls,” your voice was starting to get higher pitched and was speeding up with every word. “And he wasn’t there,” you sobbed.

“Shhh,” Han whispered against your head. “It’s okay, you found us,” he reminds you,’ squeezing you tightly against his chest.

Seungmin walks back into the room then. You hadn’t realized that he had stepped into Han’s room.

“I can’t get a hold of him,” Seungmin says as he sits next to where you and Han are cuddled up on the bed. “I’m sure he is trying to figure whatever this is out,” he offers reassuringly.

“Oh,” you whisper. You feel dumb as the ineffective word falls out of your mouth, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind

“Can you tell us what’s going on now?” Han asks.

You nod against his chest, and push away from him, sitting up and looking at him with a small, embarrassed smile.

“I can’t believe I just sobbed all over Han Jisung,” you mumble wiping away your tears as you take another deep breath. “How did I get here?” you chuckle, your head falling in your hands.

“Hey, none of that. I’m just Han. Don’t full government name me,” he teases, his shoulder bumping against yours. “We’re friends,” he says. He notices you start to say something in protest and immediately interrupts you. “And the length of time that we have been friends is irrelevant. Now spill the tea,” he says, and you notice that little British accent that you were always hearing in English interviews and chuckle a little.

You take a deep breath.

“When I woke up and Chan wasn’t anywhere to be found, I grabbed my phone out of habit,” you shrugged looking from Han to Seungmin. Seungmin smiles softly, encouraging you to continue as he watches you closely. “I had so many missed phone calls and text, that initially I thought something had happened to a family member. That set me into a minor panic all on its own,” you explain.

“Hmmm,” Seungmin nods in understanding.

“I imagine that would,” Han agrees.

“So, I opened the text from my Mom first and there was a video from the airport. Me being surrounded. Chan coming to the rescue…” you take a deep breath again and continue. “Him whispering in my ear and kissing my forehead,” you say shaking your head.

“Oh,” Han whispers.

“Yeah,” you affirm, looking at him. “Oh,” you agree. “I realized then that all those messages and phone calls were related to that. No one knew why I was coming to LA. I just told them I had a special opportunity that I couldn’t miss out on which wasn’t a lie,” you sigh. “My phone continued to buzz and I couldn’t find Chan and I just began to panic. The minute my sister called, I lost it,” you added, shaking your head. “That’s how I ended up in the hall where you witnessed the rest,” you groaned, looking at Seungmin.

“Y/n, we are so so sorry,” Seungmin laments. “We didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Don’t, Seungmin. This isn’t your fault. I knew there was a possibility for something like this, I just thought I’d get a minute of peace first,” you chuckled. “That was naive of me.”

Just then you heard the door across the hall slam shut, practically shaking the room. All three of you looked at the door curiously. Then the cursing came. A distinct Australian voice was spewing curse after curse before the banging on the door began.

“Seungmin!” Chan yelled as his fist beat the door. “Seungmin! She’s gone!” he bellowed, and Seungmin jumped up to get the door, but you grabbed his arm, stopping him and went to the door yourself. “I already fucking ran her off,” he half sobbed, and you could hear his head fall hard against the door right before you opened it.

“You didn’t already fucking run her off, you idiot,” you said as you opened the door. “She just had a panic attack and you weren’t there. Had to go somewhere,” you half chuckle as your eyes meet his.

His shoulders slump at the realization that your still there and once it fully hits him, he has you wrapped up in his arms, squeezing you tightly to his chest.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles against your head and you feel a tear drop onto your head. “I was sure I’d be back in time. I got those videos not ten minutes after you fell asleep. I was trying to take care of them. Of you,” he sighed in defeat, squeezing you hard.

“Hey,” you say, pulling away to look up at him. “Han and Seungmin were there. I’m okay. Just really, really overwhelmed,” you tell him with a small smile. His hands move to the sides of your face and before you can think, he is pulling your lips to his. This kiss tells its own story, his lips moving slowly against yours as if he is apologizing for everything that has happened so far that day. You break apart, both of you breathing heavy, foreheads meeting as you both breathe each other in.

“I really should have thought this all out. I should have been prepared. I should have prepared you,” he rambles. “I should have…” you cut him off with another kiss. His arms move down to your sides as he pulls you closer to him.

Somewhere in the room, a throat clears.

“You’d think they don’t have their own damn room right across the hall,” Han jokes. Seungmin rolls his eyes at him, but you can hear a small chuckle tumble out of him before he can stop it.

“Hey!” you chastise, reluctantly pulling away from Chan. “I’m the one in crisis. I get to do whatever I want right now,” you tease, kissing Chan quickly before pulling away from him and going back to the bed where Han and Seungmin both sat. You sit between the two of them, crossing your legs and looking over at Chan. “Now that I’m not a freaking hot mess, what do I do?” you ask.

Chan steps into the room and sits in a chair that is next to a desk, looking around.

“I’d probably start with at least calling your mom,” Seungmin suggests, reaching out to hand you your phone.

“Ugh, anything but that!” you object. “Han, how about you call my mom. You’re really good with words,” you add, taking the phone from Seungmin’s hand and passing it over to Han. You shake it at him when he just gapes at you, his mouth open in disbelief.

“Uhhh,” he murmurs, starting to grab your phone, a look of slight panic crossing his small round features.

“It was a joke, Hannie,” you giggle. “My mom would freak out if she heard anyone’s voice but mine from my phone right now,” you add.

“I can make the call with you,” Chan offers. You look at him and your eyes meet. There is genuine concern there. “C’mon,” he says, standing and taking your hand.

You nod once, interlocking your fingers with his and letting him pull you to your feet. You both head for the door.

“Guys, we’re all getting together after y/n takes care of making some of these contacts,” Chan adds as the two of you step into the hallway. “We’ll get dinner and get a plan together,” he adds looking down the hall. It’s then that you realize the rest of the members have their heads out their doors or are standing in the hall. They had seemingly been waiting for Chan to come out.

You wave meekly at the other boys, none of whom you have met before this moment.You realize the state that your in and fall against Chan’s shoulder in embarrassment.

“Hey! Hey!” Felix says, his voice low and comforting. “Don’t hide, you’re gonna be around us a lot,” he smiles, walking up to you and pulling you away from Chan into a big bear hug. “I’m Felix.”

“I know,” you say, a laugh escaping you as he squeezes you tight.

“Oh yea, right,” he laughs, releasing you.

“I’m Changbin,” Changbin smiles at you. His dimples appear immediately on his full cheeks and it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N,” you giggle with a little bow.

“And that’s Hyunjin, IN, and Lee Know,” Changbin grins, glancing at the three that are walking your way. They are all even more striking in person than you could have imagined. Your breath is briefly stolen from you before you regain your composure.

“Hello,” they say in unison, all of them bowing low.

“Don’t do that,” you beg. “I’m just Y/N,” you insist.

Lee Know blushes and smiles at you, a small nervous chuckle leaving him.

“We’ll get dinner soon and everyone can get to know Y/n,” Chan speaks up.

“Right,” you agree. “Gotta call the mother,” you joke, shaking your phone at everyone. “It’s not like I’m 26 or anything and can’t handle life.”

Everyone chuckles along with you, a sympathetic understanding etched on their faces.

“It’s nice meeting everyone. Hopefully it can be less awkward at dinner,” you tease as Chan reaches for the door of his room. “I know you didn’t realize you’d be meeting the president of the “Big Tiddy Committee” today in a random hotel hallway,” you laugh.

You hear Seungmin and Han burst into laughter and you turn to smile big and bright at them offering them a mischievous wink.

“Those two idiots right there are the newest members. You’ll have to ask them about how to join,” you tease as Chan then bursts into laughter beside you and tugs you into his room. “Ope, the vice President needs me,” you add as the door closes.

You hear a burst of laughter behind the closed door and a chorus of Korean ring through the hallway in the wake of the chaos you created.

“If my life is in chaos, I might as well have a little fun,” you shrug, as Chan pulls you toward the bed. He sits on the end of it and pulls you between his knees, his large hands on your waist, squeezing lightly.

You toss the phone on his bed. Its your turn to reach up and cup his face. He smiles up at you, his eyes disappearing into those tiny slits you love and you lean in for yet another kiss. The spark everytime your lips meet is electric. This kiss ignites something deep inside you and you move your hands around to the back of Chan’s head as he embraces you, pulling you against his body, your lips moving together, his tongue licking at your lip and hesitantly dipping into your mouth.

You place your knees on both sides of his hips, settling on his lap and can’t help but move against him as the kiss intensifies. He moans against your lips, his fingers digging into your back as he clings to you.

After some time, he pulls away from you, breathing heavily and mumbles, “You’ve gotta call,” he breathes, his forehead on yours once more. He takes a deep breath. “Your mom,” he adds, kissing you quickly and looking into your eyes.

“Right. That,” you groan, moving off of his lap and falling onto the bed beside him. You pick up the phone that you had discarded and select your mom from your contacts.

“Here goes nothing,” you smile at him as it rings in your here.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says beside you, taking your hand in his just as your mom picks up the phone.

< Pt. 3: The Art of Meeting | Pt. 5: The Beauty of Bliss >

MoF Tags: @hoeinthehouse @drhsthl @chrizzlaptop @dna-black-and-blue @lynlyndoll @hufflepuffanddurinsdaughter @amararosesblog @flirtyskzbutterfly @spearb-99 @jascurka21 @colorguardlover14 @bangchansbiggestfeet08 @vxllxnsworld @greyyeti @silentreadersthings @ddazed-lhs @backintomykpopphaseagain

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang Chan x reader #bang Chan fanfiction #bang Chan series #the master flirt series #the master of flirting #bang Chan angst #Chan x reader #bang chan fan fic #bang Chan fluff #bang chan #skz x reader

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drdemonprince · 2 months

Note

Hey Doctor Price!

Do you have any tips for how to stay sane while autistic with no privacy? I live in a one room college dorm with a freind and there's literally nowhere anywhere on my campus where I can have even 15 minutes alone without being on edge that someone will come in any second. I'm going nuts and struggling to cope :[

I was in a four person dorm room on a 50,000 student campus and suffered from overwhelm virtually all the time, and I had to compensate by learning to really scope out the places where privacy could be found, so I believe I have some relevant tips for you!

Locate the study rooms or study carrels that can be signed out for individual use, typically in the library. Keep a close eye on them and book them as often and as early as you can, as they tend to be booked up during finals quite quickly.

Scope out the computer labs and study areas in department-specific buildings and get a sense of their busy and fallow periods, especially ones that remain unlocked during the weekends. I worked in the Psychology Department computer lab as a work study student, and they were completely empty on the weekends. The Sociology Department's computer labs were also totally empty most nights and weekends too.

For that matter, find on-campus jobs that can get you some privacy, often lab monitoring or administrative jobs in smaller offices. One summer I worked at the front desk of the student newspaper, which was tucked away on the eighth floor of a massive building, and it got basically no business because it was the summer. I also worked as a Psych Department admin and hid myself away in the copy room and supply closet as often as possible. If a job gives you key card access to break rooms or bathrooms you might not otherwise be able to use, so much the better.

Find the bathrooms that are tucked far away from any heavy activity. Check out the basements, top floors, and down around the corners of long hallways, and near meeting halls that have to be reserved for special events. The Chemistry building had a weird, shitty women's restroom that had been converted from a supply closet across a long walkway connecting two buildings, and everybody hated it. That meant it was nearly always empty. In my old office in the Psych building at Loyola, there was a bathroom off the main hall that was busy, but then another that was up a half flight of stairs near a room that was only ever used for guest speakers. NOBODY used that bathroom. I spent hours in there curled up in the dark vaping.

Learn the rhythms of a building or area of campus so you can take advantage of slow periods. If a building only has one dedicated purpose, such as a massive lecture hall, try checking it out when you know there aren't any class sessions happening. If a building is only used for recitations but those are only on tuesdays and thursdays, check it out on a wednesday. I went to a big football school, so on weekends half the campus was absoultely crawling with sports fans, but the gyms were completely dead during that period.

Stairwells. Sit at the tops of stairwells. If a building has multiple sets of stairs, find one that's far off in a corner and then hike your ass all the way to the top floor. The southwest stairwell of Loyola's Information Commons is a place I've written whole essays in, and even attended Zoom meetings from, it's so quiet.

Learn you roomate's schedule. If you're on good terms, ask them to put their schedule up on a whiteboard where you can see it, and share your own. Both of you will want time alone sometimes, and coordinating can really help. If your'e on good terms you can text as well. If your roommate ever requests alone time to study or to fuck, you get to, too.

Find the totally useless neglected spaces by exploring a little. Some dorm buildings have a shared kitchen in the basement or an activity room with air hockey tables that nobody uses. Laundry rooms are good during off times. Because most campuses are in a perpetual state of construction, there's usually old union buildings or emptied-out department buildings that haven't officially closed down yet but have next to nothing going on in them. There's lots of small waiting areas by professor's offices in nearly every building. Try every door. Duck into available classrooms. You will get interrupted sometimes but the more you learn the countors of the place and its patterns the more mastery you will have, and the less stress you will feel about the possibility of being interrupted.

I know that you said there is nowhere for you to find privacy, Anon, but I promise you that is not true! I have been on 50,000 person campuses, 12,000 person campuses, and for a few years I worked on a 2,000 person campus. I was ALWAYS able to find tucked-away bathrooms, empty classrooms, tops of stairwells, and weird neglected study areas to find some peace in. You can too. Please explore and help yourself feel more in control of this stressful situation! Good luck and let me know how it goes.

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lilac-5ky · 10 months

Text

Roommates from Hell, pt.3 (Toji x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 3: Eat ✓ Pray ✕ Love ?

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests

A/N: TOJI POV TOJI POV TOJI POV last chapter dedicated to the same day, I promise!

Warning: Sexual imagery and slight angst.

If Toji knew that the tradeoff for forfeiting his hold on you involved wearing an apron three sizes too small and one shade too pink, he could and certainly would have refused.

But Toji was never good at placing bets, let alone winning them, and when you handed him a bouquet of bushy carrots demanding they be diced-not sliced, he found himself wielding a knife of a different kind than the ones he’d been used to carrying.

Carrot peels, he came to realize, cling to fingers with more persistence than blood. His frequent visitations to the sink were timed with fleeting glances at the chirpy whirlwind that zoomed by him, your stare and grip too focused on beating a bowl of eggs into submission to pay heed to the butchered vegetables on his side of the counter or the enamored gleam that sparked in his eyes. Intentional and raw.

Before meeting you, he could count the times he’d eaten a homemade meal actually meant for him on the fingers of one hand. At the Zen’in household, whatever chewed up and spat out leftover remained of his parents or brother’s meals ended up on his plate. On a good day, there’d be a chunk of meat to sate his hunger, but on the bad days… Well, those definitely outnumbered the good ones.

Even the pesky whining guard dogs his uncle kept around had the privilege of stuffing their bellies with specially imported Scandinavian canned food. Not him. He didn’t know the taste of real food until you forced your way into his unordinary worthless life, making all the soggy french fries his intestine had suffered through in the name of waiting out your shift’s end worth it.

Without you, he would have starved a long time ago, both literally and figuratively, as the sight of you doing what you loved the most fed into his hungry eyes. You loved cooking and he loved watching you cook, and he couldn’t wait until the two of you cut down on excess subjects coming in between. He wanted the reason for your smile to be him, not some stupid free-range egg deal you’d gotten from the farmer’s market.

“You done with the carrots?”

Your question faded into a sour statement after facing the carnage of snipped carrot greens and what was left of their orange counterparts, closer to a pulp than a usable ingredient. You probably expected to hear an “I’m sorry,” or at least an “Oops,” but that was far from what he had in mind.

You look like a fucking housewife.

With your little apron -snatched straight from your workplace’s greasy kitchen- hugging your perfect waist perfectly. With your messy hair pulled in a meatball-shaped bun, a wooden chopstick piecing it together. With your feet defying their weary state from working overtime, just so he could enjoy himself a plate of warm food—

All those little things filled his scattered brain with all sorts of ideas. He could hoist you up so easily. Loop his arms around your hips and spin you round and round the tiny space, not a single complaint escaping your lips before they are made his. You’d be pressed flush between his body and the cabinets with nowhere to go, your thighs welcoming him with the spot he longed to call home, and only then would he let his mouth run off to describe the tantalizing details of all the fantasies he’d ever had watching you in that apron, the vilest of all that you one day wore it as his wife.

“Toji…?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you listening?”

“Yeah.”

Your fingers tapped at your sides, elbows angled into triangles, and nose scrunching up. Shit. He remembered your lips moving, though he had no real recollection of what you’d just said to him. More like asked of him, judging by your irritable tone.

He shook his head unceremoniously and tossed whatever edible of the carrots inside a bowl, scrapping the peels and leaves into the trash and then he gave it up for inspection. Had you scolded him, he might’ve pretended to care, but you didn’t. Instead, you juggled a handful of onions that he caught mid-air, and he prepped his knife for the second round of calamity.

This time he’d do good, Toji inaudibly promised. He’d show you just how good he was with his hands, even if the task was so menial a fourth grader could pull it off.

Soon enough, a mountain of flawlessly chopped onions, sliced mushrooms, and cubed ham stacked up on his cutting board, their executioner impatient to receive your seal of approval. You worked with your back against him, cold air tingling the short hair at the base of his neck whenever the refrigerator opened to reveal the next ingredient. Namely something in a bowl, something in a bottle, and something in a Tupperware container. That’s as far as he could tell, his view of you narrowed down to your skirt flowing in and out of his eye’s range.

But what his eyes failed to discern, his ears made out just fine, the somewhat familiar tune you hummed gaining lyrics in his brain. It wasn’t the worst song, and as far as Toji was concerned, he wasn’t the world’s worst singer either. He could pitch in right where the chorus began, though decided against it at the very last minute. His rougher voice would stifle rather than compliment your own.

And so, he let his chance at a duet be snatched, first by the oil sizzling in the pan, and then twice again by the exhaust hood’s mortifying buzz. The song changed to one he didn’t recognize, and he was left in the awkward spot of having absolutely nothing to do other than stare at your profile and scowl at the lack of acknowledgment.

You didn’t bat an eye when you reaped the seeds of his hard work— didn’t pay a single compliment before tossing them into the fire.

Stingy ass bitch. Words cost nothing to spare.

He decided to hold onto his childish grudge for a while longer and retired against the wall nearest to the stove, a light thud echoing from where his head hit the cabinet.

Toji did love watching you in your element, but at the same time, he was so terribly… bored. You bossed him around like a dog and lacked the common decency to throw him a damn bone. Worst of all? You ignored him. His little huffs and frowns and carrots— okay, maybe he did fuck up when it came to the carrots, but what was your excuse for giving him less attention than you gave that stupid pan?

Luckily, there were plenty of ways to turn this around, especially with how unguarded the curves of your waist and shoulder were, both perfect fits for his arms to wrap and chin to nuzzle. The rest would be history. You could call him a bastard and flip his dinner over his head (oh, what a terrible waste of ingredients) after he scratched that itch.

“Are you plotting my demise?” Your voice nipped a string of indecent thoughts right in the bud. “You’ve barely said two words since we started. Makes me think either there’s a cut-off tongue in here,” you pointed at the rice, giving it a thorough stir “or that you’re scheming my assassination.”

If only you knew, he smirked, drawing away from the wall.

“Who’d ever pay to assassinate ya?” rephrased to “Who’d ever wanna assassinate a B-tier waitress,” as if to mellow the sting of his first statement, both sounding equally hideous to your ears.

“Didn’t know waitresses have tiers,” your grip on the ladle tightened, voice gaining a sudden edge.

“Course they do, dummy. Waitresses who toss in extra ketchup packets automatically rise to C-tier. Then,” Toji grinned, “there are those who wear nothin’ under their little skirts and flaunt their asses over your face for extra tips— now, those are A-tier.”

He could tell you were holding back more than the groan you let out, two of your fingers hiking up your nose and pinching at the bridge.

“What about B-tier, mister diner-expert?” you faked a smile, teeth trembling beneath pursed lips.

It was so easy to get under your skin. Shame he couldn’t say the same about your panties.

“A mix of A and C. They give ya bonus ketchup and let their ‘assets’ dangle for free, but—”

The savory aroma of oyster sauce flooded his senses, distracting his thoughts and diverting his attention from the threat your ladle posed until it batted his hand away from the pan with a vicious swing.

“—Slap ya before you can whip out your wallet,” he growled.

“As if your wallet contains anything other than soapland cards and betting slips from ‘98.”

Green eyes darted to the ceiling, a soundless whistle between his puckered lips.

“You don’t have a wallet, do you?” you said as if it was the greatest revelation of the century.

“Don’t need one,” he glared.

You sighed. “There seem to be a lot of things you don’t need.” The ladle tapped against the pan’s side for the excess grains to drop. “Or at least things you claim you don’t.”

“Need? Nah. Want, though?” Toji quickly bounced back, mischief beaming in every aspect of his expression while he rubbed his palms together like some pesky housefly.

“I can think of a few, roomie.”

“Gonna keep it up with that nickname?” you tutted.

“Don’t like it?” You shook your head. “Alright, pitch in some ideas, ‘m all ears.”

“What kind of pretentious asswipe picks their own nickname?” You shoved past him to fetch another container from the fridge, a hint of green glinting underneath the transparent lid. Uh-oh.

“The kind who refuses what others call ‘em.” His neck craned forward as he propped himself against the counter.

The view was much better from that angle. He was able to notice details he previously missed, such as the drops that’d gathered on your forehead from working over heat for so long, how your lips twitched to find the perfect comeback, or the loose strand of hair that dangled dangerously close to his eyes, inspiring him to play with it like a cat mindlessly yanked on a ball of unraveled yarn.

“I have a name, you know.” You caught onto his staring and tucked the hair behind your ear. Tsk.

“Boring,” he yawned.

“Did you just call my name boring?”

“Nah, called you boring, smarty pants.” Toji cocked his head. “Oops. Couldn’t help it.”

It was your turn to scowl, and he’d be damned if the way your fingers clutched onto the counter didn’t bring a stretch to his lips. More so than aspiring to be the one who made you smile, he took pride in being the only one who could annoy you to such great extents.

“Won’t be able to help if your tongue ends in your plate either,” you snarled.

The Tupperware opened to reveal a sea of disgusting green beads, confirming Toji’s worst fears as you stuffed your hand inside and began pouring them into the pan. Although he was nothing short of an omnivore, he never hid his distaste for the healthier nutrients of vegetables and legumes— peas included. You always tried to sneak them here and there, typically in his fried rice or curry, and every single time he’d leave the plate with enough pearls to string a necklace.

You were about to add in a second handful when the way his far more menacing green orbs drilled holes into your skull became apparent.

“Right—”

Your closed fist emptied the peas back into their container— or so would have happened, if it weren’t for the unforeseen snare around your wrist.

“What are you doin’ ?” Toji snapped.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered. “Forgot how much you hate that ‘stinky green shit’.”

“Well, they are stinky and green and taste like absolute horseshit,” he affirmed. “But you still like that shit, don’tcha?”

“I do, but-”

He dragged your hand above the fire, ushering your fingers open, while you stared at him in utter disbelief. “I’ll just spit ‘em out.”

A short breath hitched up your throat and you peeled your eyes off him, the words “How convenient” washed away once you escaped his grip and neared the sink, scrubbing your hands with soap and water.

Toji lingered around the stove a bit longer, sprinkling some more peas and a lot more ham into the pan to even things out. After all, ham was better than peas.

“And by the way,” he rubbed the greasiness against his apron. “There are better ways to shut me up.”

“Hmm?” you missed his voice under the running faucet. “What was that?”

“Said,” he moved closer, plucking the towel from the handle where it hang, and offering it to you with his most charming (read: sleazy) smile. “Could always shut me up yourself if ya wanted to.”

Reluctantly, you accepted the towel, your eyes narrowing in suspicion. He awaited your next outburst of “creative cursing” in about three seconds, but the longer you maintained eye contact, the thinner his patience wore. A million great things about you, but none of them made you any less of a pussy.

And he would have called you out on your one fatal flaw if a sequence of scenes in slow motion didn’t begin to unfold before his awestruck eyes: You beckoning him to come closer; Your slippers tipping forward and your fingers reaching out; A delicate stroke against the crown of his head, followed by another, and then another; Languid circles that didn’t comb so much as ruffled his hair; A tinge of oblivious red on his cheeks, and a conscious pink on yours; The affectionate warmth your voice basked in as you praised him, telling him he’d done well— and heavens, if he was asked what noble deed deserves such praise, he’d have no real answer to give.

And lastly, the shit-eating grin that plagued your lips as you seized victory. “See? Shut you up so easily.”

The part of him that urged to bite your hand in return for treating him like a damn puppy must have been neutered, considering the only conceivable thought that was left in his brain was to give you a reward befitting of a winner. An action more than a thought, and a reality more than imagery.

Without warning, his lips brushed over your skin, landing on your cheek in the gentlest way imaginable. Fleeting enough to convince him it didn’t register until he pulled away and saw your expression shift to that of a sore loser.

“W-what the h-hell was that?” you fumbled with your own words as if they were shoelaces bound together by some despicable bully— in that case, him.

And like every self-respecting bully, Toji enjoyed nothing more than watching his victims shudder. Your brows knitted and knees trembled at the slightest touch, making him wonder just what kind of reaction a kiss on the lips would elicit. Smirking at the notion, he knelt before you to lift the towel you’d dropped, and with a rapid flinch, he settled it on his shoulder.

“Warned ya.” He ignored your attempts at extracting further information as he walked over to the stove and pinched a pea straight from the pot, cringing as soon as it grazed his tongue.

“Stinky green shit.”

The next frame in your newly-assembled album of domestic bliss depicted a trope far too common for those familiar with 1950s movies. The spent husband who’d returned home after a tiresome day at work sprawling his limbs on the nearest kitchen chair available, fingers laced behind his head and biceps flexing in accordance, while the dutiful wife served him dinner with an extraordinarily loving smile carved on her dolled-up face. They’d sit together, laugh at how fortunate their one-dimensional lives were, and name each other “Honey”, if not “Dearest”. And of course, there would be pie for dessert!

But after the film had dried and all the smoke and mirrors were dispelled, what was left were the remnants of a reverie.

The only truth about the husband lay in how he’d spilled over your kitchen’s sole chair -the second of the set standing limp somewhere in the corner- and as for the wife, one could claim it was a honed habit, rather than blinded subservience that’d led her to the table with a most splendid dish in hand. This was as far as similarities went, for you were no husband and wife, and had no intention to break into chortles over your shared misfortunes. Besides, there was no cherry pie to justify such a crude act.

“About time.”

The last traces of pseudo-romanticism dispersed at the sight of Toji’s feet weighing down the table, the audacity in his tone tempting you to ask for a tip. This was no different than working overtime at Sakurai’s, except that old geezer, rotten as he were, always paid your extra hours. Toji, in all his unpredictability, wouldn’t waste the chance to suggest a tip of a different kind.

Casting his feet on the floor, Toji made room for you to drop his plate, and when you finally presented the finished product in all its glory —tomato-flavored fried rice tucked below a blanket of sheer gold and garnished with fine strings of ketchup— the small appreciative dimple etched on the left side of his lip felt like a privilege.

“Gonna keep loomin’ over my head like a vulture?” he gestured with his spoon.

You glanced at your own plate, and then at the broken down chair whose prayers to be fixed were never answered, and decided to dine alone in the living room. Some drama was bound to have its rerun on NHK, but before you could so much as round the table, an arm raised forward like a traffic barrier.

“There’s nowhere—”

“Here.” His other hand patted a seat on his thigh. “Don’t wanna kick ya out your own kitchen.”

“Are you serious?” You were doubtful of his invitation even as he dragged you onto his lap, your omurice all but growing wings and flying in the air.

“Dead serious,” he smirked, his knee parting your thighs while his non-dominant hand wrapped around your hip. “All nice and comfy, aren’t we?”

This is the opposite of nice and comfy, you meant to object.

You could feel everything. Every peak, every crevice, every bulging muscle of a body that was trained against its will to be hardened and rough, impenetrable to any weakness. And when you squirmed around to meet his gaze, they were the unreadable eyes of someone who’d played this game far too many times to keep count of his winnings— the bored eyes of someone who knew scoring another victory was merely a matter of minutes.

“You better not try anything weird, or I’m out,” you mumbled with less conviction than intended.

His thumb rubbed a languid circle against your hip bone as if to remind you of its presence. A battle of wits could go either way, but when it came down to raw physical strength, there was no slinking away unless he decided to let go first.

“Relax,” Toji assured with voice smooth as silk. “Just want us to eat together, that’s all.”

You had a hard time believing that was indeed all, and you were right not to, because no more than five bites into your ham-laden omurice, his knee bounced, and your legs were slung over his lap so effortlessly as though you’d moved them on your own. And in this new position, where his arm engulfed your waist from one end to the other and his fingers slyly cascaded down your skirt’s seams to brush against your bare skin— that was really all he did.

“We need new furniture,” you quavered.

“Nonsense,” he shrugged undisturbed, stuffing a spoonful in his mouth. “What did ya do with the money I gave ya?” he asked once he’d swallowed.

But you hadn’t.

“Hmph, Hmphight!” you grunted, quickly downing your bite with a chug of water. “Oh, right!” you rephrased. “Was gonna return what was left at lunch, but then you dropped the bomb on me and I forgot.”

“No need. Gave it so the kid spends it however he wants.”

“Kenzo is only eight, Toji. If I gave him the money, he’d spend it all on a mountain of cotton candy and umaibo. Got him a nice car-racing set and that was it.”

“Lame,” he sneered, your body involuntarily bending forward as he reached for his glass.

You were compelled to watch the rise and fall in his throat, lips glistening with clear droplets that dribbled to his chin. Some, he wiped with the back of his palm, while others, his tongue licked clean, and you silently wondered if there was a right and wrong way to do something this trivial, because if that was the case, then Toji’s way could only be right.

He made drinking water seem entrancing.

The next dive was imminent, but this time you were prepared. You curled closer to his chest and trusted in his arms that deliberately dipped lower than needed, cradling you even after he’d let go of his plate. You were pleased to find a single-digit number of peas remaining.

You are growing as a person, Zen’in Toji.

His gravelly voice snapped you from your thoughts. “Then, you keep the rest.”

“Well, we could use the rest to buy some extra furniture, such as a bed, a sofa, or… a chair,” you emphasized the last beat.

“Aren’t ya the sensible one?”

His fingers crept under your skirt to bestow a light squeeze on your thigh, a haughty smile spreading to his lips. It baffled you how he acted on every single impulse without hesitance. Just pure action and reaction. Zero contemplation whatsoever.

You interjected before he could get any funnier ideas and peeled his hand off— or at least dragged it to a less risque area of your body.

“And as the sensible one, I get to call the shots,” you declared. “We are goin’ tomorrow.”

A few murmurs of protest buzzed in your ears though none significant enough to defy you. He agreed to drive you wherever as long as you paid for gas, and it was fair, considering he was paying for everything else. And when you recited the list of chores around the house that were postponed due to either lack of height, strength, or sheer laziness, and he inaudibly acquiesced, you thought that this just might work.

“So, you’re crashing the couch tonight?”

No answer.

“Toji?”

“You smell nice,” he blurted seemingly out of the blue, with a strand of your hair wrapped around his forefinger and held near his nose.

“Not letting you use my shampoo,” you scoffed.

“That’s not what I meant, idiot.”

He released your hair with a not-so-gentle yank, coaxing a high-pitched squeal.

What an asshole.

“You’d smell nice too if you ever used something with fragrance,” you said.

“Suggestin’ I reek?” Toji glared.

Much to his dismay, a snort preceded your answer. “That’s not what I meant either, idiot. All I’m saying is you have no real smell. Every self-respecting playboy oughta ‘t least smell like cheap hotel and drugstore cologne, or smoke, or you know. Something sleazy that screams ‘I’ll hump and dump you.’”

His expression remained sour, almost defensive. You should’ve just taken the compliment. A grumpy Toji could turn insufferable in minutes.

“Hey, I-”

“Work calls for it,” He cocked his head. “Can’t be invisible if I leave a trail of peaches and jasmine back.”

“It’s gardenia, actually,” you smiled.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

Even as he faced away from you, his fingers refused to unlatch from your waist—and truthfully, you wouldn’t mind staying like this a while longer. On a typical Friday night, you’d be stuck in front of the TV with a cup of Nissin Noodles, too tired from your shift to consider going through your contacts for some cheap company, and too prideful to hit him up only to have some bimbo answer his phone instead. But he was there now and you felt relieved you didn’t have to stay awake in a cold bed, wondering what color handbag his newest conquest carried and whether it matched her five-inch heels— but most of all, you were relieved that bickering in his arms felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“You like your job, Toji?”

You brushed up a question you’d asked far too many times throughout the years and whose answer remained quizzically the same; “Dunno.”

“Don’t you ever want to quit?” you pressed on. “Shower yourself with an absurd amount of perfume, or go ‘round stomping your feet really loudly?”

“Are those supposed to be your arguments for me to quit?” His eyes rolled to the back of his skull while he leaned against his chair. “I’ll raise ya this. Easy cash and double-digit annual workload, versus however many hours you work at that rathole for breadcrumbs. That settles it?”

“Money has nothing to do with enjoyment,” you said.

His tongue clicked into a sharp sigh. “It’s the one thing I can do.”

“That’s not true. There’s plenty you can do!”

You punched his shoulder playfully, and he couldn’t be less thrilled to find what you’d come up with.

“You really showed those carrots who’s the boss," you chuckled. "And, you’re not half as bad as a human chair. Got a bright future ahead of you.”

“You want me to quit?”

His sudden question threw away whatever light-hearted atmosphere and tossed it in the trash, voice cutting with the sharpness of a hundred razors.

“It’s not my place to tell you whether you should or shouldn't quit, Toji.”

“I’ll quit if you ask me to.”

The silence felt… weird. Like a forced cliffhanger in the middle of an episode, your answer gaining more weight than it ought to. However long you postponed, the commercial break never came, and you were left staring into a pair of eyes that flickered back and forth between a state of narrowness and wideness. Of patience and demand. Of sincerity and uncertainty. Of trust and distrust.

Even for a second, he’d put his fate in your hands, and you held onto it so scarcely as if the wrong kind of shake would break it— would break him.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” you confessed, warmth spreading from your voice to where your fingers found purchase on his cheeks, soft thumbs rolling unhurriedly against flushed skin. Because you are precious to me.

“If you got another scar,” you continued “it’d be as if you are permanently frowning. Or,” You nudged the left corner of his mouth upward, “smiling.”

And what was about to come next, you should’ve been able to predict because all the signs were there— His absolute compliance and relish for the slow, kneading motions of your fingers; The intensity in his stare waning past heavy eyelids; The hand that moved higher up your back and the one that wrapped behind your neck to reel you in; His lips eagerly parting before they even had the chance to meet with yours.

The incoming storm gathered one dark cloud at a time, though it took the first drop of rain for you to heed the warnings of your bleary conscience.

“Don’t,” you whispered one breath away from sharing his.

Toji was all but disheartened, his eyes focusing solely on your mouth and ignoring what came out of it. “Let me kiss you.”

The softness in his tone kept you from turning around until the last minute, your aversion rousing spite in him. “I said, let me fucking kiss you.”

And while his hand moved patiently the first two times, it forcefully pushed you onto him the third, your last line of defense being your fingers as they were caught in the crossfire of his lips.

“We shouldn’t.”

“Why the hell not?” he hissed.

“Because…”

Because we can’t— an all-time classic.

Because we are friends— an excuse.

Because I don’t want to— a lie.

Because it won’t end at just a kiss— a truth.

And finally, the real reason; Because I love you.

Tears threaded your eyelashes, your vision of Toji turning watery, yet not blurry enough to drown the cadence of emotions in his eyes. Confusion, hurt, and anger. So much anger that it stifled all potential answers and seared your fingertips which were still attached to his lips, and as shallow as it sounds, you were ecstatic to find the one spot that was utterly soft in his slanted scar.

If a scar is evidence of pain, what is evidence of heartbreak? If scars are healed pain, what becomes of a pain that never heals?

Your thumbs slid across his jaw and returned to your sides, the lump in your throat dissolving into a broken sigh as you attempted to dismount from his lap.

“Because new rule: no kissing your roommate unless their life depends on it.”

“Like hell, I agreed to this,” Toji grunted, his grip -desperate now- bruising your waist.

Just when you thought your self-hatred reached its peak, you shoved his hands off your body and jolted up, legs slightly numb from balancing on his for so long.

“Agreed or not, my house, my rules. If you can’t respect that, there’s the door” you snapped, sending whatever desire might have sparked straight to the guillotine.

“So what’s it gonna be?”

His fingers wove through raven hair, his palm concealing the blown pupils as they reached their crescendo; fury.

A pang echoed against the hollow table, followed by the slight reverberation of the cutlery in the plates, his fist the sole culprit. He scoffed, muttering to himself something about blue balls and rules that were meant to be broken, profanities that could make even a sailor’s ears turn red spilling left and right until he gritted his teeth and locked in his final answer.

“Better brace yourself then, because I’m getting that kiss, be it in life, or in death.”

tags: @absoluteindulgence , @evansuvamp , @sarwhorius , @liluvtojineteyam

Anyone else, comment so I can tag your @.

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bucketfullofstrawberries · 6 months

Text

I Walk up to a tiny little podium in the middle of nowhere in particular

Taps the microphone

Ahem

Now introducing,

Welcome to the Paraverse

(A parody of Welcome To The Internet by Bo Burnham. Written by Me)

Welcome to the Paraverse! Have a look around~ Anything that brain of yours can think of can be found! We've got oodles of NEW content, Some better, some worse.. If none of it's of interest to you, you'd be the first! Welcome to the Paraverse! Come and take a seat, Would you like to see our theories or some senior citizens meet? There's no need to panic, This isn't a test, Haha! Just pick and choose your path and we'll do the rest. Welcome to the Paraverse What would you prefer? Would you like to make an eldritch god or see some chains occur? Go this way, Go that way, Don't move an inch! We got a million different ideas to pitch. Welcome to the Paraverse, Put your cares aside Here's some brand new art to steal, Here's the tenth time Stanley's died. We got animators, and artists, and fics of all kinds. And a bunch of colored digital drawings Of all the different characters in the game making out with each other, Welcome to the Paraverse,,, Hold on to your scarfs 'Cause Kevan just tweeted out about sawing little girls in half It's silly, it's stupid, He just tweeted more, Don't act surprised, these tweets are things that you' ve seen before! See the bucket shredded, Get offended, see a twink. Show us pictures of their children, Make them take the purple drink Start a rumor, buy a broom Or call out Thierry as a boomer Take your oc and then doom her Join a zoom or make weird humour Here's a brand new Narrator You should set that child aflame Here's why women never loved you Here's a guide to build your fame Which in-game character are you? Take this quirky quiz! Things made a bug that makes those gay fuckers kiss. Could I interest you in everything? All of the time? A little bit of everything All of the time Stairs are now a tragedy And time-skips are a crime Anything and everything All of the time Could I interest you in everything? All of the time? A little bit of everything All of the time Stairs are now a tragedy And time-skips are a crime Anything and everything All of the time You know, it wasn't always like this Not very long ago Just before it's prime, Right before the memory zone, the keeper of time This was button press Endless resets A sad death or two, We set our sights and spent our nights Waiting For you, you, insatiable you Mommy let you play indie games You were barely 4'2 And you went through all endings Which, to you, were brand new,, Now look at you, oh Look at you, you, you Unstoppable, watchable Your time is now Your inside's out Honey, how we knew And if we stick together Who knows what we'll do It was always the plan To put the decisions in your hands Hahaha,,HAHhahahHAHAH,,,HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Could I interest you in everything? All of the time A bit of everything All of the time Stairs are now a tragedy And time-skips are a crime Anything and everything All of the time Could I interest you in everything? All of the time A little bit of everything All of the time Stairs are now a tragedy And time-skips are a crime Anything and everything And everythings not ending And the ending's never ending And, All of the time~!

Thank you for your time <3

#tsp #tspud #the stanley parable #stanley parable #tsp shitpost #tsp paraverse #paraverse #the paraverse #naraverse #silly #welcome to the internet #welcome to the paraverse #ough i had fun with this

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copperbadge · 4 months

Note

I know it's not Chicago area, but Jungle Jim's in Cincinnati has both gjetost and I'm pretty sure brunost. If you ever end up in the area I do genuinely think you would get a kick out of the place. There might be a similar shop in Chicago?

Oh cool to know! My initial reaction was "It looks a bit like how Treasure Island in Chicago used to be before it closed, but nicer."

Then I asked my boss, who is from Cincinnati, if he'd ever heard of it, and his ENTIRE FACE lit up. It turns out he used to live near it when it was just a fruit stand in the middle of nowhere, and he spent like ten minutes of our zoom meeting telling me about how great it is, how it's covered in animatronic figures and there's a monorail attached. I was going to say "Cheese is a weird reason to travel to a strange city, but I've done weirder" but now I want to see it just for itself.

I'm sure there's SOMEWHERE in this burg that sells more varieties of gjetost/brunost -- it's just a matter of scouring a bit to find it. All else aside, I'm positive I can order it online somewhere. There's a mustard cheddar I used to buy mail-order on special occasions, until the local grocer started carrying it. I just need to find an online retailer willing to sell-and-ship.

But yeah, Cincinnati was on my list of "places to see someday" and just jumped several levels thanks to Jungle Jim's :D

#cincinnati #tourism

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jakekiszkasleftnutsack · 1 year

Text

Mile High Club

Danny Wagner x f!reader

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

Summary: What are the chances you run into your favorite band at the airport when heading home after one of their concerts? Low. What are the chances the tall, dark, and gorgeous drummer seems interested in you? Slim to none.

Warnings: 18+ GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, secondhand embarrassment, unprotected sex, teasing, light degradation/name-calling, breath play, impact play for like a second, let me know if I missed any we are not being thorough today.

W/c: 4.7k

A/n: I don’t really do the christmas thing but here’s a little something to hold y’all over while I work on some requests and bigger things. Special thanks to my girl @whereisthemusic for the crumbs! ily

Edited by @garbagevanfleet

Theme Song: Kiss Me You Animal - Burn The Ballroom

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

Airports can be very liminal spaces sometimes. In less traveled cities the terminal has a certain eerie quality about it, like an abandoned industrial town but slightly more comforting because it smells like warm cinnamon rolls. You’ve been in enough of them that you’ve come to somewhat enjoy existing in that atmosphere and watching people go about their lives. Granted, it’s usually a lot more fun traveling toward your destination than away from it.

In your case, it’s one of the less exciting times to be sitting at an airport bar, clad in your new concert merch. Your post-concert slump is hitting harder than it ever has before, as to be expected after seeing your favorite band perform for the first time. You had scored a spot at the barricade, they performed all your favorite songs, and you touched the hands of Josh Kiszka himself. Yet, despite all this, you’re sad to be at the tail end of that wonderful fever dream and returning to the real world.

Nursing the cocktail you ordered for yourself, you pull out your phone and review the few videos you took the night before, hoping to beat the emptiness you feel with a little bit of joy.

“Three beers and a tequila soda, please.” A very familiar voice catches your attention from a few empty barstools down.

There’s something eerie about hearing the voices that fill your dreams in real life, so eerie that when you turn your head and spot Sam Kiszka leaning against the bar by his forearms mere feet away, you feel like you’ve seen a ghost. Your whole body goes rigid but your cheeks flush. All at once, you’re exhilarated but terrified, bashful yet determined to somehow make contact. For fear of letting the moment pass you by, you let slip the first word that manages to reach your lips.

“Samuel,” you mutter, mortified to be existing in his vicinity.

Lazily, his head pivots until he finds the source of his name. He looks slightly thrown by the odd greeting but he’s probably very used to the dumbfounded look plastered on your face, so he smiles a beautiful toothy grin back at you.

“Hi! Love the shirt.” He smiles with one side of his mouth.

“Thanks! Love the music.” You silently cringe when you remember that you’re wearing the Dreams In Gold tour shirt you recently bought.

“Ahh, touché! What’s your name?” He props himself up on one elbow as he turns to face you, crossing one foot over the other in the process.

“I’m y/n, It’s really nice to meet you after such an awesome show.”

“Yeah, it was a good one, wasn’t it? I’m glad you enjoyed it!” He smirks proudly at the compliment.

“Enjoyed it? It was magical, I was mesmerized!”

“We’re mesmerizing now, eh?” Josh quips, out of nowhere. The curly haired piece of ass settles into the barstool on your opposite side and reaches past you to snag the freshly prepared cocktail Sam ordered for him. “Haven’t heard that one before but I have to agree. Just look at that handsome man, so entrancing.” He gestures to your still unlocked phone that you forgot was zoomed in on a paused, lewd looking video you took of him performing Age of Machine the night before.

All the air leaves your lungs when you notice your mistake and you quickly reach to flip the phone over, but Josh is quicker and snatches it off the bar top first. He holds it up next to his face, displaying it for Sam like a trophy while he parts his lips and rolls his eyes to the back of his head, attempting to make a similar face to the one on the screen. “It’s uncanny.”

“You’ll have to forgive my brother, he seems to have forgotten his manners,” Sam addresses you, then turns to Josh to speak in a patronizing tone. “Josh, this is y/n.”

“What?! It’s a good photo,” Josh giggles like he’s a master of comedy, but you feel like you could curl in on yourself and disappear.

“Josh is all too proud of his talent for making sex faces.” Sam cockily makes fun of his brother as you anxiously try to grab your phone back from Josh.

“Sorry, y/n.” He dangles it in the air, briefly lifting it out of your reach before holding it out for you to take, all the while smiling proudly.

“Whatever you call it, nobody’s immune.” You shrug your shoulders in favor of Josh’s argument, hopefully deflecting the spotlight away from yourself. Unsurprisingly, he accepts the flattery and wraps one arm around you, squeezing you into a goofy side hug.

“Ahh, see?! She knows what she’s talking about!”

Sam chokes out a few beginnings of words but all of them fail to make a valuable point in protest. “Wha- No! You’ve just claimed another victim!”

You’re about to jab back when Danny’s tall dark figure materializes over your shoulder between you and Sam.

“Well, hello. Are these delinquents bothering you?” He smiles down at you as he grabs the remaining lone beer from the bar.

“Yeah actually, could you take care of them for me?”

Danny laughs, but the other two boys launch into a tirade of various “hey now” and “wait a minute”’s.

“Not really, I was just telling them how much I enjoyed your concert last night. I’m y/n, by the way.”

He holds out his cup for you to cheers, so you tap the side of your cup against his. “Very good to meet you, y/n. Nice t-shirt.”

You roll your eyes as you take a rather large gulp of your cocktail but ultimately smile at his compliment as he takes a sip of his own drink, and watches your expression shift. He’s only being kind, he doesn’t need to know how mortified you are.

“Thanks, I couldn’t resist. I wanted the poster too but I guess there weren’t enough, they were all gone by the time I got there.”

“Yeah, we heard that’s been happening a lot, apparently.” He purses his lips and looks off into the distance somewhere, potentially in contemplation. “Well, that simply won’t do.”

Danny turns you to face him head-on by grabbing the back of your barstool and turning you away from Josh and Sam. While you’re watching him, completely dumbfounded, he slings his backpack around his shoulder to bring it in front of him. He rummages around inside of it for a moment and produces one drumstick, twirling it between his fingers effortlessly before holding it out to you.

“Oh my god. Are you serious?” You try to keep your hands from shaking when you take it from him, but to no avail.

“Oh my god, the Holy Grail!” Sam chimes in, lightly mocking your astonished tone, causing Josh to make a painfully sad attempt at stifling his laughter. You and Danny side eye his friends together but shake off his teasing rather easily.

“Ignore them, they get weird when they’re tired.” He rolls his eyes, offering a sweet apologetic smile for the rowdy bunch.

“Are you sure I can have this?” Apprehension litters your voice.

“Consider it a gift.” Shrugging his shoulders, he lets one hand land on the back of your barstool. His arm is actively blocking you from the rest of the airport and locking you in, figuratively. He’s also giving you an excellent view of his beautifully sculpted bicep.

You turn it over in your fingers, inspecting the various notches along its body suggesting it’s been lightly used. All the cracks and divots add so much character to the imagined worth of your gift. This drumstick is quite literally about to become your most prized possession.

“Thank you, Danny. This is so kind of you.”

“You’ll have to come to another show so we can get you a matching set.” You can hear the edge in his voice, leading you to suspect that it wasn’t a suggestion.

“Is that a promise?”

Before Danny can answer, your attention is captured by a short brunette woman making her way over to the five of you out of the corner of your eye, furiously tapping at the phone in her hand. She smiles politely at you purely as a formality, since she clearly has more pressing matters at hand. A few yards behind her you spot Jake walking with a small posse away from the bar and down toward the terminal. “So sorry to interrupt, but our flight’s boarding soon. We gotta go.”

“Of course, I don’t want to hold you up. I should probably go find my gate anyway.” You return her smile then turn back to the boys, who are moving with absolutely no sense of urgency.

With a clearing of her throat and a jerk of her head in the direction of the terminal, each of them begins to descend from their barstools. Josh downs the rest of his tequila soda, and they all take a moment to say goodbye to you. They thank you sincerely for coming to the concert and showing your support for the band, followed by a round of warm hugs. You try to milk each one for as long as possible without seeming too obvious, especially the last one, which happens to be Daniel.

“Thank you again for the drumstick, I’ll cherish it forever.”

“You’d better be sleeping with it every night.” He punctuates the last word with a wink.

Um- Daniel? What was that?

“Of course, what else would I do with it?” You two share a laugh while standing in extremely close proximity, only halfway pulled away from the hug so that you’re still holding each other by the arms.

“I wish we could chat more, it was really nice to meet you, y/n.”

“Likewise. But you’ve got a flight to catch.”

Based on the way he’s looking into your eyes, you know you’ll be screaming into your pillow long into the night once you’ve made it home. You’re sure you’re probably blushing, but you do your best not to think about it for fear of saying or doing something stupid. Because, let’s face it, you have no idea what you’re doing and have been walking on eggshells for the entire conversation.

Danny gives your arms a light squeeze before letting you go entirely and picking up his backpack from the floor. He walks backward for a moment as he takes his leave, allowing you both one final wave goodbye before he jogs to catch up with the rest of the group.

What the actual fuck just happened?

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

As you’re scanning the signs for your designated gate, your much-too-large suitcase in tow, a foreign hand lands on the small of your lower back.

“Are you following me now?” The voice is one you recognize, but its speaker is so close to your ear that it startles you right out of your skin.

“Holy shit, Daniel Wagner, you scared the living fuck out of me!” You smack him dead in the center of his chest with the back of your hand in retaliation as your heartbeat makes its way to a normal pace. Your jab had seemingly no effect on him though and he laughs at your expense.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help but notice the drumstick sticking out of your bag.” He taunts, gesturing to your half-open backpack and falling into stride with your steps.

Obviously, you know that Danny’s stick didn’t quite fit in your carry-on so it’s been poking out past the zipper, but you turn and grab for it anyway as you flounder for a comeback.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re the one following me since I’ve basically got an antenna.”

“I plead the fifth.” He holds his hands up in a defensive position.

Eventually, you come to a halt, and you realize that you’re standing amongst the entire Greta crew waiting next to their gate. You fumble for your boarding pass in the side pocket of your bag and check the gate number. You’d think they’d have made these things easier to read, truth be told you probably couldn’t read an eye chart at this particular moment in time, as flustered as you are.

Your eyes go wide as golf balls when they finally locate your gate number.

“Gate 6.” You say it aloud just to confirm that it’s correct since Gate 6 just so happens to be the very gate you’re already standing at.

A wicked smile creeps onto his face as he comes to the realization just seconds after you. “Are we on the same flight?”

You tuck your boarding pass under your arm so you can readjust your items and get ready to board. “It sure looks that way.”

“Do you live in Nashville? I mean… not in a creepy way.” The way he stumbles over his words amidst his excitement makes you mourn for your aching heart.

“I might. Maybe we’re neighbors.” You shrug your shoulders and raise one eyebrow in pseudo-curiosity

“What a nice surprise that would be.”

The flight attendants begin calling groups and special members to begin boarding, so you keep your boarding pass in hand and readjust your items to get ready to board.

“Well, since we’re sharing the plane I expect you to behave.”

His statement catches you so off guard that you stare up at him for a moment just processing the words. He quirks an eyebrow at you with the smuggest expression you’ve ever seen on a human man, an expression that almost taunts ‘what are you gonna do about it?’.

When you realize he’s completely serious, you stand up straight, clear your throat and respond with, “What are you gonna do if I don’t?”

His eyes narrow for just a moment, pulsing as he processes your response, his smug smile never wavering. “I guess we’ll see.”

Sam taps Danny with a backhanded smack on the shoulder, signaling that their group is boarding. The Greta boys file onto the plane according to the flight attendant's instructions, and Danny turns around only once to look at you. It makes you snort-chuckle to yourself while you fall behind to wait for your group to be called, but as he slips out of sight you shoot him the same smug smile that he gave you.

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

Everything has settled down significantly since boarding, the other passengers are relaxed in their seats and the flight attendants are popping around every so often to check on things. All is calm, except for you. You haven’t been able to stop looking at the back of Danny’s head the entire time and your heartbeat hasn’t slowed since you were all alone on your barstool.

They’re not seated all that far from you. You can tell exactly who is sitting where, even though it’s not a difficult game to play. Danny has an aisle seat on the same side as you, his curly hair passes the top of his seat, which is right next to Sammy, because, of course. You can see Josh’s khaki-clad leg bouncing away across the aisle, and next to Josh is obviously Jake with his damn hat on. It’s impossible to miss.

Their presence is beyond distracting. How many people can say they’ve been on the same flight as Greta Van Fleet? A majority of the folks here have no idea who they are; the fact that they’re in the presence of legends is completely lost on them.

To not take advantage of such an opportunity would be an abomination - jail worthy in fact. But how to take advantage? That’s the real question. How does one get more time with them without forcing it? Why does it feel so painful to just take what they gave you of their time and be happy with it? Why does the idea of going this whole flight with Danny just out of reach after he so shamelessly flirted with you sound like utter torture? How are his shoulders so toned and perfect?!

They are perfect. He’s perfect. You can see the ridges of his side profile in that muscle shirt if you lean a little into the aisle, your chin propped up on the heel of your hand to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Then, right on cue, Danny turns his entire torso around in his seat and looks back down the aisle right at your dumb little face. He’s smirking, like he’s fully expecting to catch you staring in his direction. There’s nowhere near enough time to react, but you lean right back into your seat and out of sight as fast as you can possibly manage.

You wait what feels to be at least four years before daring to peek around the seat in front of you again to make sure he’s no longer looking. But no, there he is, turned around in his seat and smiling devilishly awaiting your return. You narrow your eyes at him, just to let him know you’re not falling for whatever it is he’s trying to do. He sees your suspicious eyes and shoots you one playful wink in return. He fucking winks at you and turns back around in his seat like a diabolical tease.

“Well, that does it. I’ve just about had it with you, Daniel.” You whisper the thought to yourself, or what would have been to yourself if you weren’t in such close quarters with a ton of other people. The woman sitting across the aisle looks at you with distaste and you sheepishly apologize then return to the task at hand.

You pluck your bag from the floor under the seat in front of you where it was stashed and dig through it until you find what you’re looking for. An old-fashioned printed ticket from the concert and a sharpie, one that you keep on your person at all times for emergencies just like this. In your elegant chicken scratch, you write out your message.

It’s important to keep it short and sweet, you decide, so that there’s no room for interpretation. ‘Follow me’. Surely, there’s no way a directive so simple could be muddied in his boy brain.

The overhead light is already on, signaling that it’s safe to leave your seat and walk around. With one defining nod and your note in hand, you swiftly unbuckle your seatbelt and begin to strut down the aisle. Your target is locked in, Danny’s seat is just a few steps away. As you pass him, without so much as a turn of your head, you place the scribbled ticket directly in his lap and continue on toward the vacant lavatory.

You hurl yourself into the bathroom as quickly as you possibly can to promptly stop your stomach from falling out of your ass. It takes you a moment of standing quietly to realize your hands have been shaking. Until now, your whole body was running on pure adrenaline and kept you from feeling any real apprehension. Now that the severity of what you’ve just done starts to sink in, along with extreme regret, you contemplate whether you should just flush yourself down the toilet.

The longest two minutes of your life slip by, and still no interruption to your bathroom break. Maybe he’s waiting a little while to follow you so it doesn’t seem as suspicious? What if he doesn’t come at all? Facing rejection by having to walk past him back to your seat is out of the question. What if he looks at you? A ragged breath catches in your throat when that idea crosses your mind, threatening to turn into a sob if you let the thought linger any longer.

Just as you’re promising to never follow your instincts again, the clunky bathroom door shuffles open, and in comes Danny without as much as a knock. While he shuts and locks it you twirl around to smirk at him, leaning your shoulder against the wall as you cross your arms. As much as it would have broken your heart to have embarrassed yourself for nothing, you can’t help but find it kind of hilarious that he couldn’t bring himself to pass up temptation.

“How the fuck am I supposed to have my way with you in here?” he quips after taking a single glance around the space. You don’t answer him, and it only deepens your smirk when he finally registers the look on your face. “What’s that look for?”

“You’re a horn dog.”

“Um, this was your idea?” he speaks with a melody of bemusement.

“Oh, so just because a girl invites a guy to follow her into an airplane bathroom she automatically wants to screw him?”

He cocks an eyebrow at you and leans his own shoulder against the wall, mimicking your stance since he’s caught on to your game. “So you brought me here for some friendly conversation?”

“Absolutely not,” you snort, causing him to roll his eyes and shake his head a little at your teasing, though you think he seems to find it charming.

“Well… it’s not ideal, but after that stunt I’m not letting you out of here until I’m good and ready.” He grabs you at the waist and pulls you towards him; he towers over you and you have to crane your neck to kiss him properly. You fumble with his belt as he pulls on the hem of your shirt.

“Wait,” You pull away gasping, and place a palm on his chest to let him know to pause. “I kind of want to keep it on.”

“Seriously? You’re really gonna make me fuck you in my own merch?” He's unamused.

Looking up through your lashes at him, you nod bashfully and throw in a lip bite for some added innocence. “Mhm, but if you rip it you have to buy me a new one.”

You swear you can hear a growl come from deep in his chest when he pauses for a moment to look at you before grabbing two fistfuls of the t-shirt material and ripping it right down the middle. A genuine gasp escapes past your furiously beating heart, followed shortly by a hiccupy giggle when you do the same to his own shirt in retaliation.

“Hmm, would you look at that?” He glances down at each of your handiwork and clicks his tongue three times to chastise your behavior. “You’re gonna fuckin’ get it now.”

Some shredded pieces of fabric fall to the ground, but he makes no move to fully remove either of the tattered shirts, instead opting to slide your shorts and panties off. He shoves his pants down just barely enough to free his rock hard, veiny cock from its confines. Using the small amount of strength you can muster, you lift and perch yourself on the tiny sink when he grabs your knees and spreads them, putting you on display for him. His massive hands hold your legs wide open so he can bend down to lick a slow stripe up your center. Just a few skilled flicks of his tongue over your clit is enough to get you ready for him, but he purses his lips and spits on your pussy for good measure.

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper breathily at the filthy act.

He chuckles lightly at your reaction, stands up, and positions himself. He takes his cock in his hand and smears his own saliva around with his tip before pushing in a few centimeters.

“Oh, fuck,” you repeat yourself.

“That’s right, babygirl. Fucking take it.” He pushes in all the way this time, immediately pulling back out to slam in again. As if hunkering down for the long haul, he cradles your legs, one in each hand, and a warm feeling fills your whole being. Is it too early to be seeing stars?

You let your head lull back in ecstasy but he grabs your jaw abruptly, forcing your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart. I want to see the face you make when you cum.” You nod in understanding, promising to heed his request. He goes to return his hand to its place holding your leg, but when you open your mouth to moan he quickly covers it before you can utter a sound.

“Shhh, we have to keep quiet. Let it all out for me, but don’t make a sound.” The gruff timbre that lines his voice while he fucks into you at a merciless pace could make you cum all on its own.

Your brows furrow to a peak, painting what little he can see of your face a shade of almost pained frustration. He flicks his thumb over your already sensitive clit to accompany the never ending waves of pleasure he’s pushing through you with his cock.

Out of nowhere, the tide rolls in and your orgasm ripples through you like a warm breeze and he rides it out relentlessly, his eyes locked onto yours. For all you know, the clouds could part and the gates of heaven could open to accept you at that very moment, and you would happily ascend. You try to scream his name only to be muffled into his palm, and through teary eyes you see the devious smirk that he tries to keep from creeping onto his face when you struggle like he fucking loves the power he has over you.

Just as you’re verging on the point of overstimulation, he reaches his own climax, spilling its contents deep in your core for you to hold onto for safe keeping. His hand leaves your lips and comes down hard on the meat of your thigh with an audible slap. You cry out, but he’s in no condition to care about that while he shudders and moans and bruises your leg with his grip.

The pumps come to a halt and the comedown is slow, you’re thankful that he leaves his cock inside your twitching pussy to savor the feeling just a little longer. Although, you hadn’t noticed that in the midst of all the action your position had shifted until he was practically on top of you in an uncomfortably crooked way. You can’t be surprised since you enticed him to ruin you, but clearly, he hadn’t noticed either and almost loses his footing when he finally pulls out, you have to throw an arm out to help steady him. His bicep is warm and damp, the vein prominent.

“Danny, Danny, Danny.. getting carried away now are we?” you scold, clicking your tongue at him like you would a child.

He laughs sweetly, like strawberries and sugar or windchimes on a summer evening. It almost takes your breath away. “How could I not? You’re a vixen.”

“Who? Me? Of course not, I just know a once in a lifetime opportunity when I see it.” You shoot him a sly smile and move to stand up. He holds his hands out to aid in getting you upright, but when you reach for your clothes as he fastens his belt, you’re hit with a realization.

“Daniel. My shirt.”

He looks puzzled, but still cute, until it dawns on him that you’re on an airplane filled with strangers, and thanks to him your new shirt is lacking structural integrity.

“Shit, umm…” He scans the floor of the bathroom before scooping up his own discarded shirt, also completely unwearable. “I have a shirt you can wear, I’ll go grab it.”

A moment of silence.

“Why the fuck did we bother being quiet if you’re just gonna walk out there with no shirt on?”

“Aww, y/n,” He pecks your cheek “That was just for me.”

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

thank you for reading

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