#(I love this series and it’s only been season 1)
Text
It's Always Been You
Bonus Scene 1 - Wolfsbane Hallucination
Author: @stiles-o-dylan24
Pairing: Stiles x Addy McCall
Word Count: 3.1k
Requested: Can you maybe write something about Addy telling Stiles what she saw during the hallucinations in season 2 at Lydia's party and having a Staddy fluffy moment? I don't remember but I think after that moment it never brought up again and kinda always wanted to see how Stiles would react, if it's okay for you of course! And obv if you want to write it take your time, don't rush it! 💕
A/N: Here you go sweets, it's been forever and a day but hopefully you're still around and you enjoy this! I'm putting this as taking place at the end of season 4 so you have an idea of the timeline of everything!
Any other deleted/bonus scenes you guys want please don't hesitate to send them in bc I'm fully on my IABY bullshit while I edit the whole series to be ready for binding. Love you all!🩵
IABY PLAYLIST || <<PREV || MASTERLIST || NEXT>> ||
Another day another Lydia birthday party is in full swing– which is already a better turnout than the impromptu lake house party a couple of months ago.
That night we found the deadpool list and now we’re back from Mexico and Lydia promised a gathering to make us celebrate the fact that we’re all alive.
Stiles and I are in the backyard and he’s leaning back against one of the beams attached to the overhead pergola while I lean my back against his chest. He’s got his arms wrapped around my shoulders and my hands are gently gripping onto his forearms.
The party is more so taking place inside since it was raining earlier– which is how Stiles got me to come outside with him. I’ve got the smell of rain, the pergola fairy lights and best of all my Stiles… so I’m pretty happy right now.
Stiles is silent though and I could think he was just enjoying the quiet with me while the thumping bass of the party sounds in the house behind us, if it weren’t for the noise he just made. The noise is one he makes when he’s thinking about something that’s bothering him and once that noise is followed by him kissing my temple and squeezing his arms around me a little more… I know it’s something about me.
I move my thumbs against his forearms a little, leaning my head back against his shoulder as I ask him “What are you thinking about?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing” Stiles replies too quickly and I throw him a look “Come on, at least lie better than that”
“I can’t lie to you” Stiles chuckles softly and I nod once, turning in his arms to face him while I smile brightly at him “I know.” I set my hands on his chest and slowly slide them up to wrap my arms behind his neck, asking him “So then tell me what’s on your mind”
Stiles makes a noise and takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it as he sets his hands on my hips and pulls me a little closer “Do yo– do you remember Lydia’s birthday party?”
“This one?” I laugh softly and he throws me a look “Obviously you remember this one or we have bigger problems right now concerning your memory, cutie.”
I snort and smile at him “Alright so not this one– which leaves last year because we’ve only been to two of her parties”
“Right,” he clears his throat, nodding his head ever so slightly and connecting his eyes with mine “So last year when we were all kinda…” he trails off and I nod once, my stomach dropping as I stand up a little more “Oh… umm yeah, the night of the wolfsbane” I smile softly at him, instantly hit with what I saw and really hoping he doesn't ask me about it.
“The hallucinations, yeah” Stiles clarifies and I nod slowly, trying to smile like it’s no big deal while also imploring “What’s making you think about that night?”
Stiles doesn’t answer right away, just moves his thumbs against my sides as he moves his eyes between mine. He licks his lips quickly and tilts his head a little to the side “Well I was just thinking back… and I– well you never said what you saw that night… when I asked you what you hallucinated, you told me it didn’t matter, remember?”
“Because it didn’t” I say gently, smiling to soften the blow of my deflection, however, he just narrows his eyes in thought at me “Right but it does matter. What we all saw was something that we were deep down afraid of actually happening or being true so I’m just curious I guess… why do you say it doesn’t matter?”
“Sty, come on” I breathe out, looking around the backyard for an escape plan. I feel him keep his hold on me so I don’t step away from him as he asks me in a soft whisper “Was it your dad? I mean from how he was when we were kids?”
I look back at him, breathing in deeply and slowly releasing it as I barely shake my head and answer him softly, “No, it wasn’t about him.”
“Ok then what was it?” he questions gently, looking at me with so much love in his eyes. I can tell how much this means to him but I can’t shake the nerves and embarrassment of actually telling him what happened in my mind. I mean he saw his dad blaming him for his mom’s death and Scott saw Jacksanima hooking up with Allison on the stairs and I what? Had a phenomenal kiss and then ultimate whiplash as he said it would never be right? No way I can share that with the person I’m now dating.
“Why are you remembering that night in particular right now?” I ask and he shrugs, looking around the backyard “We were standing basically right here with Scott that night. You looked…” he trails off, shaking his head and breathing out a soft huff before he connects his eyes with mine “Fuck, Adds, you looked gorgeous in that maroon lace dress and your black leather jacket.”
“You remember what I was wearing?” I say softly, my heart doing that little flutter thing that only Stiles can make happen and he makes a noise “Uh yeah I remember with vivid clarity the moment I walked into your house and I saw you. You made me stop breathing and I’m pretty sure I passed out because I think Scott hit my shoulder and said something but I couldn’t hear him and next thing I knew I was driving us to the party.”
I chuckle softly, knowing my eyes are sparkling as I look up at him and he continues “I mean you always look amazing, Adds– but something about you looking all sexy badass that night…” he trails off, breathing in deeply as his fingers dig into my sides a little more and he pulls me against him “Yeah, I almost blurted out that I was in love with you.”
“You did not” I chuckle softly and he makes a face like I could not be more wrong, “Uh yeah I did, ask Scott– the way he looked at me was the only thing that made me not because it wasn’t the right time. I also wasn’t aware he knew at the time but either way we were drinking and that wouldn’t have been the right time– right?”
“No it wouldn’t have been the right time” I agree with him, scrunching my nose up a little as I continue “Especially since you’re right we were drinking and I fully thought you were going to say Lydia’s name and I drank even more because I couldn’t handle hearing your declaration of love about her again at that moment.”
Stiles snorts and looks up to the covered lighted up pergola above us, breathing out “Of course you thought that” he shakes his head and looks at me again “So you were drinking because of me being a dumbass–”
“No, I was drinking because Lydia was being mind controlled by Peter and was sweetly forcing us all to drink spiked wolfsbane punch” I interrupt and he narrows his eyes at me “That may be why you took the first drink but I was the reason you drank more” I make a noise to argue, however, he just grips onto me a little more and doesn’t let me say another word as he rushes out “Which means you hallucinated what you did because of me which means you should tell me what you saw that night.”
“Why is this so important to you right now?” I ask, trying not to be defensive but I can’t help it when I’m just flooded with the memories of that night. “I mean,” I clear my throat and soften my voice, because even through the embarrassment taking hold on me I do know he’s just being his amazingly sweet self, “Why is it all of a sudden bothering you enough to want to know now?”
“It’s always bothered me, Adds,” he answers without missing a beat, his eyes so sincere I melt against him a little more while he continues “I’ve always wanted to know– since it happened to you.” His thumbs brush against my sides again, succeeding in lifting up my shirt so he’s touching my skin “The look on your face that night when I found you again has been burned in my brain. All I wanted to do was hug you and comfort you but you wouldn’t let me– I mean, you wouldn’t even look at me. Then fucking Matt almost drowned and we figured out he was the– you know, then the night and following days got crazy but that didn’t change the fact that I wanted to be there for you. Now I feel like I'm allowed to be there for you and comfort you even when you tell me nothing is bothering you– I’m allowed to be there for you in ways I wasn’t before and dammit woman, I want you to just let me.”
I chuckle and kiss him softly, “Okay” I murmur against his lips and he repeats “Okay? Like okay okay?”
I nod and pull back just enough to narrow my eyes playfully at him “Yes– okay as in I’ll tell you but after I do you have to drop it because half the reason I didn’t want to say anything was because I was embarrassed”
“Embarrassed?” Stiles scrunches his face up adorably and I throw him a look “Yes… now promise.”
“I promise after you tell me I will drop it” he repeats and I nod once “Thank you.”
Stiles kisses me quickly and says “Now tell me what you saw and were embarrassed about” he smiles wide “Please”
“Jesus you’re persistent” I grumble and he winks, his hands gripping onto me a little more “It’s why you love me”
I playfully glare at him, murmuring quietly “Yeah, yeah, yeah” and he gets impatient “Come on, tell me already”
“Oh for fucks sake” I throw him a look, and he smiles even wider at me. I chew on the inside of my cheek for a few seconds, taking a deep breath to try to calm my nerves before I rip off the bandaid and rush out quickly “I hallucinated that you kissed me.”
Stiles’ brows raise instantly with my words “I kissed you–” he licks his lips quickly “You hallucinated that I kissed you?” he repeats, a bright cocky smile starting to come over his features and I grimace since I have to tell him the next part “Well that’s not all so don’t get too cocky.”
“Oh my god was it a bad kiss?” he draws his brows in on his own embarrassed grimace “It was wasn’t it? Is that why you waited so long to actually kiss me?”
“Nope– it was a good” I release a shaky breath “A really good kiss actually.”
“Oh really?” he says, cocky smile back on his face and I narrow my eyes at him “Stop it”
“Sorry” he murmurs, half smiling as pulls me more against his chest “Tell me how it played out then.”
I look up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and I breathe out nervously, shaking my head as I look away and focus on his chest “Well I was walking through the living room and you stalked towards me through the crowd of people with these deliberate I’d burn the world down for you steps until you set your hands on my hips and backed me against the wall… then you kissed me” I breathe in deeply, not really wanting to keep going “But then you…” I trail off quietly and Stiles’ voice is softer, more gentle as he asks even more quietly “Then what happened?”
I squeeze my eyes closed and grimace “Just as quickly as you kissed me you stopped and when I opened my eyes, you were looking at me but the look on your face… it was like you–” I clear my throat, my voice barely above a whisper as I tell him “It was like you just made the biggest mistake of your life”
“Adds–” he tries but I shake my head and look at him sadly before I drop my eyes again and look at my hands on his chest “Then you said ‘You’re not her and that this isn’t right’ you dropped your hands from my sides and you stepped back throwing in the next gut punch of ‘This will never be right’ before you walked into the crowd of people in front of us. I went to follow you but then it was like I was thrown back into this reality and the music was suddenly blaring again and everyone was dancing not even paying attention to me.”
It’s silent after I finish telling him what happened and I want to disappear with explaining everything that I still unfortunately remember. Stiles takes a few more silent seconds before he murmurs “Hey” and I make a little noise to acknowledge him and he chuckles softly “Come on baby, show me your blues”
The corners of my mouth lift a little as I silently curse him for somehow always getting me to listen to him and I slowly look up at him. When my eyes connect with his I don’t see anything but reassurance and love looking right back at me “You do realize that you never have to worry about what was said being true right? You have and will always be the only her in my mind– there will never be anyone else”
I smile softly with his words, nodding a little and he squeezes me to him a little more “You could have told me what happened that night”
Shaking my head I scoff lightheartedly “Sty, come on there’s absolutely no way I could have told you”
“Yes you could have!” He insists, chuckling a little “Then I could have told you that you were crazy–”
I snort and level him with a look “Yes brilliant idea to tell the girl who just hallucinated her first kiss with the guy she’s in love with that she’s crazy.”
“Okay we all were hallucinating that night” he tries to reassure me and I narrow my eyes thoughtfully at him “Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better”
Stiles laughs softly, clearing his face of any humor as he gets a little more serious “Adds, if you told me that night what happened I would have told you right then that I was in love with you and only you”
I make a noise and ramble lightly “Well I wouldn’t have ever explained what happened that night because I thought you were in love with Lydia, so that just screams awkward trying to have you comfort me and my feelings when you love someone else but don’t want to hurt me and those feelings that just got dumped on you.”
He just blinks a few times and groans frustratedly, resting his forehead against mine “I can’t believe I was so stupid as to ever say something in your vicinity that would ever make you think you weren’t the only girl for me.”
I chuckle and move my nose along his “Yes, well… even Sherlock has his off days” I say gently and he connects his eyes with mine, breathing out a soft little chuckle.
He moves his eyes between mine before he lifts his head off mine and smiles like he just got a great idea “C’mere” he mumbles, reaching up and grabbing one of my hands in his before he starts walking me across the patio “Where are we going?” I ask, quickly moving my feet to keep up with him.
“Just follow me, babe” he says over his shoulder, keeping his hand tightly around mine as we walk into the living room. I flinch back a little from the loud music and talking noise, staying right behind him as he guides us through the crowd.
He walks past everyone that’s standing around talking and dancing on and near the staircase before he leads us over to Lydia’s dad’s old office. Figuring Lydia would have locked these doors I draw my brows together curiously as he opens one of the french doors and leads us inside.
I walk further into the office towards the bookcase on the far wall and I turn around to look at him as he closes and locks the door. I raise a brow and look from the lock and up to connect my gaze with his “What exactly are we doing in here?”
Stiles just keeps his gaze locked on mine as he murmurs simply “This” and recreates the I’d burn the world down for you steps I told him about and quickly stalks towards me. I make a little noise when he sets his hands on my hips and presses me back against the bookshelf, smiling in his adorably sexy way before he kisses me.
Yeah I may have thought the hallucination was a good kiss but I didn’t know any better because kissing the real thing is unlike anything I could have imagined. I set my hands on his sides, feeling him lift one hand to cradle the side of my face in his palm as he pulls me impossibly closer and moves his lips against mine.
I can’t even help the whimper that I make as I kiss him back, my hands gripping his shirt at his sides. Stiles responds with his own soft moan at my response and uses his hand to gently tilt my head and deepen the kiss.
He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead on mine, gazing into my eyes as he moves his thumb against my cheek “Nothing has or will ever feel as right as this does, Adds. You are it for me and I will spend the rest of my life showing you how true that is so you will never question it, okay?”
“Yup” I sigh dreamily, wrapping my arms around his middle and licking my lips quickly as I smile softly up at him “I understand you loud and clear.”
He chuckles, his eyes dropping to my lips as he licks his own and murmurs “Good” before he gives me another earth shattering kiss.
IABY PLAYLIST || <<PREV || MASTERLIST || NEXT>> ||
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Always love to hear your lovely people’s thoughts & if you’re not comfortable with that a like/reblog gives me just as much life!
Please let know what you thought I'm so sorry to any and everyone who would not wished to be tagged anymore. Wasn't really sure how to tag this so just figured the last like I had for IABY and the IABY movie coming up would be ok. But please let me know if you would prefer to not be tagged in any IABY stuff in the future!
IABY Taglist: @lettersofwrittencollective • @brien-odylan @softpeteparker • @biles-bilinski-24 • @thatsuperherosidekick • @tothestarsandreams • @puppershnupps • @stilessarcasmqueen • @fandom-princess-forevermore • @glittercoveredsouls • @hueycat2004 • @fortunatelydelicateearthquake • @thehall0wqueeen • @kateeee0817 • @anoddsightcomeoutatnight • @marauderskeeper • @shantayok • @peachyinparis • @emichelle • @humbledarkness • @24-stilinski • @all-will-be-well-love • @screamxqueenx94 • @genius2050 • @soccersarah07 • @vikshee • @slothcat67 • @stilinski-fucking-obrien • @lemmereaditall • @redsalv20 • @the-winchester-girl02 • @missdicaprio • @awkwarddoctor • @cutiepiemimi13 • @thejourneyneverendsx • @xceafh • @michellebarista • @wandascarlett • @musicxlover97 • @fan-girl-97 • @theholydestiny • @nalu-ismyjam • @piccasoe • @bilesxbilinskixlahey • @nikki1dxx • @screaminggoatsposts • @kiwihoee • @teen--marvel @hogwartsstar • @sheerfreesia007 • @kmc1989 •
Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent.
This work is property of @stiles-o-dylan24.
These characters, with the exception of Addy McCall(homegirl was all me), aren’t mine but this fanfiction is.
These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.
No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.
Posted 14 May 2024
#it's always been you#Stiles stilinski#teen wolf#stiles stilinski x oc#stiles stilinski x addy mccall#staddy#IABY#IABY bonus scene
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
A comprehensive thought dump by two idiots about MCD season 1 upon recent rewatch 9 years later.
Aphblr has lied to me.
for years I have been told that Jessica Bravura’s Minecraft diaries is the superior watch to her other main series Mystreet which is just simply untrue as of my rewatch of the series 9 years after watching it for the first time.
true to the art form and writing style popular at the time MCD is a jumbled mess of things just happening with no clear connection and in some cases direction.
so many wasted opportunities because we are put promptly into the perspective of Aphmau. A character with very little substance and is shaped by the characters around her rather than the characters own actions.
the most interesting characters and concepts remaining firmly in the background. Such as Dale and Molly’s struggle with their daughter being turned into a shadow knight.
Brian’s sudden and barely built up betrayal of his family.
Kiki’s daughter being Zane lets be so real that child is literally just Zianna 2.0 (oh but Madi she’s a werewolf! Idc Cope.)
to Logan and Donna’s love story.
Most characters in the for front don’t talk about there own trauma’s or really anything there feeling outside of there love feelings for or about Aphmau.
Even as the production value went up I find the most interesting arc is the pikoro arc. As it showed genuine comradely between our main characters and established a clear dynamic. Only for the Scaleswind war arc to completely ruin that by making Garroth lose all rational thinking and an extreme entitlement to Aphmau. Writing it as if Zane brainwashed it doesn’t make the uncomfortable and frustration go away.
Zane was a good villain, while motives are fairly unclear he had a genuine presence and had fairly smart well executed plans. (Ein is definitely not a better villain.)
Something that stuck out to me; was how much of the plot probably could’ve been solved with the poorly thought out magic system, specifically Kawaii-Chan.
Kawaii-Chan practices forbidden soul magic and is able to give inanimate objects a conscious. So Lion point out something interesting; couldn’t she just trap parts of the main characters soul in a doll and just, save them incase the worst happens? Imagine what she could do with relics.
Every time Lucinda is on screen I fear what comes out of her mouth. Because I’m just going to ask later “why can’t she just do this?”.
anyway here’s a list of our favorite characters in no particular order;
chicken shamen
Brendan
Logan
Yip
Donna
Katelyn
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hat Trick - Part 2 (The Playoffs)
3.4K / Safest with You AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader
Summary: Din eats you out while you watch a playoffs game. That’s it.
Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please) F!oral, fingering, nearing overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names as usual (pretty bird, baby, sweetheart, etc.), m!masterbation, established relationship. Inadvertent hockey double entendres, possibly.
A/N: Vancouver won last night so I thought I should post this while they’re up 😂 Inspired by @beskarandblasters’s I Want It, I got It and @swiftispunk’s ask(s) from @arainbowsiren - thank y’all and your respective mens for their service 🫡🫡🤗. You can if you want, of course 😊 but no need to read Part 1, as it’s not a direct continuation. Anyways, go Canucks go! 🏒🏒
If dread is defined as “painful agitation in the presence or anticipation of danger,” then for the entirety of your relationship, Din has never dreaded seeing you. Not when either of you has had one of those bad day at work where you just need to vent for hours afterwards, or when Jimmy had accidentally used a sweater you left in Din’s office to towel off after a sparring session, or even that time Din took Al to the dog park by himself and didn’t realize the other dog moms were flirting with him until one of them shoved her number into his hand. Nope, it didn’t matter what nonsense was going on while you were apart, the moment he looks upon his pretty bird’s face, Din’s day automatically takes a turn for the better.
But these past few weeks, Din feels like it’s possible he’s being tested in this regard. Still not dread… maybe some mild foreboding? That sounds bad, he thinks. He’s worried is what he is.
Your hockey team is in the playoffs, and at first you were thrilled. But your excitement has quickly given way to a much more volatile emotional cocktail of anticipation, nervousness and agitation. If anything, you’re the one who’s been in a state of dread.
The first round was okay. Your team won the series 4-1; it was a little nerve-wracking after Game 2, but the team rallied and after some nail-biting overtime games, they prevailed. At your encouragement, he had hosted the series at his place since neither of you were able to get any tickets for the home games. You had readily cooked up a storm in the kitchen to work out your pregame nerves, and your friends and the Mandos came over to reaped the culinary benefits of your stress.
Your friends already knew this about you, of course, but Din is learning that playoffs you is very different from regular season you. Regular season you loves hockey. Playoffs you loves winning.
You’re the personification of nail-biting anxiety during every game; eyes glued to the screen, barely eating or drinking except during commercials or intermissions. Every missed shot on goal results in shouting and arms raised in frustration. Ever unanswered check on your players, vexation and name calling. Power plays or offensive drives that can't be capitalized on have you covering your face in defeat.
His pretty bird stresses.
It’s not all bitterness and disappointment, thankfully. Your face when your team scores lights up entire the room. Every save your goalie makes has you cheering in elation, high fiving everyone in sight with enthusiasm. When your team wins, your cute butt won’t stop wiggling with victory dance moves.
But the good cannot come without the bad. Penalties called against your team trigger a spitting of expletives Din didn’t think were possible from your sweet mouth. Holes in your defense that the other team exploits have you calling for someone’s head (the coach? The team captain? Din’s??!)
Every game is a rollercoaster of emotions.
Oh. And if your team loses… it’s like a dark cloud materializes over your head. Your mood is already gloomy when the final buzzer sounds, improving only to pouty and restless by the time you start nearing the next game.
Din doesn’t like to see you so stressed (over a game, he might add, if he didn’t seriously fear the repercussions of saying that out loud to you).
Round 2 has been… interesting. No, that's too forgiving. It’s been… a nightmare. You team is down 1-3 in the series and tonight is Game 5. The make-or-break game that will either eliminate your team from the playoffs, or let them live to fight another game where they can attempt to claw their way to a decider seventh game. After winning the series opener, the team’s three consecutive losses have left you nearly despondent - your mood getting progressively worse with every loss. It’s not that you were mean or snappish – you were still kind and helpful, and all sweetness with Din and his friends. But you smile a lot less and your playfulness is missing; you tell less jokes and your laughter, if any, is shorter and less vibrant than it is normally. This past week, there’s been an ever present tension in your body that doesn’t seem to melt away no matter how much affection Din shows you, and you’re constantly furrowing your brow at things you read on your phone.
When you start to make the grocery list for what you need to prepare the spread for Game 5, you call out to Din, “Baby, is Mayfeld going to come over for the game? If he is, I’ll have to get parsley for the garlic knots.”
“Oh… pretty bird, I think most of the guys are going to go to a sports bar for Game 5,” Din says with a bit a trepidation. He doesn’t say that he was the one who had made the suggestion that they do so, thinking it was unnecessary pressure for you to host a viewing party. When Woves and Mayfeld had complained, Din reminded them about how they had both spilled beer all over the carpet during a goal celebration during the last game. He had found you at 2 a.m. taking out your frustration over the loss with a brush, scrubbing the carpet vigorously on your hands and knees until he had managed to coax you back to bed for what was ultimately a night of restless tossing and turning.
“Did you want to go too?” you ask, wide-eyed.
“Nah, let’s just relax and watch here, baby,” Din’s smile is easy going, “I’ll order in, okay? No need to make food. It can just be a relaxing time.” He hopes he isn’t emphasizing the word relax too much.
You look at him for a beat and nod, before going back to the grocery list. Din exhales a little breath of relief.
Game 5 is not going well.
Your team is leading in shots on goal, but just can’t seem convert shots to goals. Din thinks it’s almost worse watching your body tense up in excitement, just to deflate in disappointment, over and over. The opposing team doesn’t seem to have the same problem – scoring two goals in quick succession during the first ten minutes of the game that have you flopping back onto the coach, heels of your palms pressed to your eyes as you groan in pain.
At the first intermission, your team is trailing 0-3 and Din hides (?) in the kitchen while you call Rory and Katie, and the three of you bemoan and rant about the last period over speakerphone. You pace the same route throughout the apartment so many times, Din wouldn’t be surprised if you actually wore a path.
He reemerges from the kitchen just as the second period is about to start and sees that you’re already perched on the edge of the couch, elbows on your knees, hands holding your own face as you stare at the television intently.
The puck drops just as Din places a plate of food on the coffee table in front of you, and you look at him with a calm expression and soft, sweet smile that he doesn’t think he’s seen for weeks, “Thank you, bab- WHAT THE HELL!?!?!?”
And like that, it’s gone – replaced by an expression of disbelief as you point agitatedly at the screen. Din turns to see your team captain skating towards the penalty box, and looks back to see you shaking with fury and muttering, “Hooking my ass... Barely tapped him…”
“That’s it,” says Din firmly.
“Hmm?” you’re not even looking at him, too busy throwing dagger eyes at the ref on screen who’s announcing the penalty details, getting ready to boo when he’s done.
“Stand up please, pretty bird,” commands Din, not really asking as he slips his paw like hands under your arms and hauls you up gently before you even process his request. Your eyes narrow as you register something happening, but your attention is still on the game.
It’s not until Din yanks down your leggings and kneels to start pulling your feet through the legs that you snap your head down, “Din!! What are you doing?”
Left in just your pink lace trimmed panties and your “I just hope both teams have fun” sweatshirt, you look at Din with a confused expression. He rises and towers over you purposefully, crowding you back against the couch so that you’re forced to sit down with a bounce when it hits the back of your legs.
“I don’t like seeing you so stressed, sweetheart. So, I’m going to help you relax, and you’re going to remember that this game is supposed to be fun.”
You screw up your face, unimpressed, “I know it’s supposed to be fun! I’m having tons of fun. Look at me, I’m- OH!!”
Din’s had enough. It wasn’t supposed to be a negotiation anyways. With one hand, he presses against your chest, forcing you to lean back into the couch, and with the other he spreads open your legs and lowers himself to press a firm kiss right on your clit.
“Din!!”
“Relax, baby,” he mouths against the fabric of your underwear, dipping his head and nuzzling your bud with his strong nose. He spread your legs wider and holds them open as he starts his slow torture.
The other team’s powerplay starts and you try to keep your eyes on the game. Normally you would be yelling at the screen for your team to clear it, but right now all you can think about is how Din’s slowly tracing over your folds with the tips of his nose and tongue.
As the powerplay clock starts to wind down, your favourite right winger intercepts a pass and tears down the ice on a breakaway. Chased by his own teammates and the opposing team, he sets up, shoots and scores!! Usually a short-handed goal would have you jumping up and down, cheering, but Din’s holding you down and at the exact same moment he gives your mound an open mouth kiss, tonguing your clit with a deliberate flick that has you grabbing onto his hair instead, “Yesssssssss!”
Din pays the goal no mind nor anything else that’s happening in the game, he just continues mapping and teasing your cunt through your underwear with his mouth, tongue and nose until the fabric is soaked through.
You go back to watching the game, half listening to the commentators and half following the players on the ice, all the while whimpering and softly moaning as Din works you up until you’re leaking down your ass, about to make a mess of the couch beneath. Slowly, slowly, as Din continues to massage and prod at your dripping hole, you start to melt, stress and tension lifting from your body, replaced with a warm, buzzing pleasure emanating from your core.
The period’s half over, and you haven’t yelled at the screen once.
“Feels so good, daddy,” you whine, when Din’s tongue presses your panties into your seam, forcing the fabric pulled tight and wet to stay tucked between your folds, finally revealing part of your pretty cunt to his gleaming eye.
“Fuck. Pussy’s so pretty, baby. So wet for me,” Din growls, and the vibration of his tenor works it way in, riding that same buzzing wave that’s coursing through your body, straight to your throat where it escapes as a tight wail.
“Oh Daddy!”
“Keep watching the game, pretty bird. And remember… relax,” Din’s last word muffled as he dives face first into your pussy, open mouth kissing your slit - licking every crest and wave he has access to with a low, burning sensuality that’s driving you insane.
“More, please – Din, I need more. Ngggh!”
About to pull the damp gusset of your panties to the side and really starting devouring you, Din pauses with a wicked idea. He pinches the fabric between his fingers and gives it a little tug so that the hem of your panties glides over your clit – the unexpected friction has you yelping in surprise, “Oh, fuck!”
Chuckling, Din tugs the fabric over your swollen bud a few more times and drinks in your heady moans before finally pulling it all the way aside to display your glistening cunt.
“Eyes on the game, baby.” You look down to see Din’s face buried between your legs, but his eyes are locked onto yours, dark and blown – you nod and flick you eyes back to the screen. Three more minutes left in the second period.
“Good girl,” Din rumbles against your slick coated seam; he licks a hot stripe from your tight hole all the way up to your throbbing clit, then back down, pushing and swirling his tongue through your arousal. He hums as he repeats this pattern over and over as you start to pant above him.
“Close baby?” You look away from the face-off on screen to nod at Din, he’s been eating you out for nearly the entire period of play, building you up from nothing and now you can feel yourself approaching the edge of euphoria, ready to teeter over.
“Daddy will take care of you, pretty girl. Just relax and watch the game, kay?”
When he sees your hazy eyes flick back up to the tv, he presses in deep, opening his mouth to consume as much of your pussy as he can, tongue dancing through your folds before it burrows into your clenching hole. His nose nudges your slippery clit as he tongue fucks you with vigor.
Above him, you’re faintly cheering on your team.
“Oh yes! Press them! Press them hard!”
“Nice pass! Fuck, such a good pass!”
“Shoot it, shoot it, shoot it – yessssss!”
You come just as the team’s star rookie scores a top shelf goal, crying out So good, so good, so good as your orgasm washes over you in never-ending waves. Apparently, you had a lot of pent up stress you needed to release.
Closing your eyes, you rest your head against the back of the couch and listen to the announcements celebrating the goal, coming down from your high as Din continues to press butterfly kisses to your pussy. Only when you hear the buzzer signalling the end of the period do you open your eyes and smile down at Din, “Thank you, daddy.”
Making a movement to get up so you can dispense a little love of your own to Din, you’re bewildered when Din holds you down with a forearm across your stomach and shakes his head, mouth still latched to your heat.
“Din.”
Shake, shake.
The movement of Din’s head restarts a warmth in your belly. Your laugh is featherlight, “Din, I have to get up! At least let me get up to buy the 50-50 tickets.”
Without releasing you, Din feels behind him blindly with his free hand until he finds your phone on the coffee table and places it in your waiting hands; he then reaches into his back pocket and takes out his wallet which he also hands over before mumbling against your slit, “Buy your tickets, baby.”
“Din, you don’t have to! I have my ow- ah!”
Having given your clit a playful snip, Din soothes it with a soft kiss, “It’s for charity, sweetheart.”
Dreamily, you sigh in agreement, “For charity.”
Din licks you lazily through the second intermission, cleaning up your spend and using his tongue to spread the fresh slick trickling from your cunt up to and around your swollen clit. He rests his head against your thigh and chuckles as he watches you take over ten minutes to purchase your charity raffle tickets; you used to only be able to buy 50-50 tickets if you were in attendance at the game, but the team’s charitable foundation had recently started selling them online during the game as well – and it’s taking all your concentration to navigate the site without being distracted by Din’s slow teasing.
You have to enter Din’s credit card number five times before you get it right and you think you accidentally buy twice the number of tickets you mean to.
By the time the third period starts, you’ve lost your underwear; eyes glossing over while you resume watching the game, you’re spread bare for Din as he adds his fingers to his efforts, all in the name of ‘relaxation’. When your team can’t capitalize on their first power play of the period, he inserts one curling finger, and you concede that the missed goal opportunity isn’t the end of the world. When your goalie has to make four heart-stopping saves in a row as the other team piles on, Din adds a second, and you passively sing encouraging praise at the TV while dissolving into the couch. When your coach deploys his special teams, your heart rate speeds up, but not because your offensive line is absolutely dominating in the attacking zone, but because Din squeezes in a third finger, stretching your fitted walls to their limit.
“So fucking tight for me,” Din hisses, looking absolutely hypnotized as he watches his thick fingers disappear into your cunt. The vulgar wet slaps and squelches your pussy is making nearly drowning out the commentary from the game; you moan and writhe against Din’s hand, begging him for more, “Daddy, so fucking good! Love your fingers, please… need your mouth, dadddyyyyyyy….”
The onslaught on the ice and against your pussy continue without reprieve; Din nibbles your puffy clit between his teeth before pulling it in between his lips and sucking. He builds and builds as the team presses and presses, no relief for your poor aching pussy or the opposing team’s goalie. You think you might float away if Din wasn’t still holding you down, your body tingling right through to the finger tips that you have buried in Din’s hair – you pull him closer, grinding against his mouth seeking, more, more, more.
“Soak me, pretty girl,” you feel rather than hear, Din’s command echoing deep to that spot inside you only he can reach and the vibration sets you off. You come, a fresh wave of arousal hits Din’s chin as you chant out his name until you’re hoarse. Trailing off with a whimper, somewhere through your thick fog of pleasure, you hear the buzzer of the second goal your favourite right winger scores tonight.
The game’s all tied up and you’re spent.
Glassy eyed and fully blissed out, you beckon Din to come kiss you with a weak smile and curl of the fingers on the hand you’ve released from his hair.
Din’s taking out his cock from his sweatpants and lubing it up with your cum, but he doesn’t rise, “Give me one more, pretty bird. Let’s make it a hat trick.”
You whine in protest, “Can’t, Din. It’s too much.”
He fists his hard length and presses the barest of chaste kisses to your still pulsing clit, “Be a good girl for me. One more, baby.”
There’s nothing, not even winning this game, that you want more than to please him so you give him a brave little nod – even though his feathery touch made you jump.
His thumb brushes gently over your slippery bundle - light pets at first, mindful that you’re nearing overstimulation. In contrast, his other hand pumps his cock with increasing pressure and speed – already throbbing and painfully hard just from eating you out for the last 40 minutes. Seeing how turned-on Din is just from pleasuring you has another wave of want coursing through your veins; pushing up your sweatshirt above your braless breasts, you start to play with your tits - pinching and rolling your nipples between your fingers as you throw you head back and moan, low and throaty.
The raunchy sight sends Din into overdrive. He starts to draw gentle but consistent figure eights over your clit then bends down again to inhale the smell of your honey before pressing a series of sweet tender kisses to your still leaking hole. All the while, choking his dick and keeping his eyes on you as you touch your perfect tits. He stays the course with his mouth and thumb, letting you decide how much you can take when you start to buck your hips lightly.
Your third orgasm approaches faster than you anticipate, body already halfway there after that last brain numbing high. Din reads the tensing of your stomach and your quickening breaths, “Give it to me, baby girl. Give it to me and I’ll come all over this pretty pussy.” With Din’s dirty promise ringing in your ear, you come with a shuddering arch of your back and a soundless scream. Just as you’re completing your hat trick, in an arena across town your right winger is completing his.
But your eyes aren’t for him, they’re for the man who’s now milking his impressive cock, splattering rope after rope of white, glossy cum over the lips of your overwrought cunt. You giggle as Din runs the tip of his cock through your folds, pushing in as much of his spend as he can before he heaves a heavy, satiated sigh.
Looking at you with a smirk, he chuckles, “How you feeling, pretty bird? Relaxed?”
You laugh a genuine, musical laugh before pulling his face to yours, kissing yourself on his lips – so euphoric and peaceful from Din’s magical touch. After a quick cleanup, you rest cozily in Din’s arms, kissing sweetly as the two of you watch your team successfully defend their lead for the final minutes of the game. Final winning score for your team, 4-3.
Resting your sleepy head on Din’s shoulder, you confess, “I didn’t realize I was being such a stress ball about the playoffs, Din. I’m sorry.”
Kissing your temple, Din gives you a reassuring squeeze, “No need to apologize, pretty bird. It’s okay if you get stressed. Just know I’m always here to help, okay? I love you.”
You lift your head to nod and mouth the same words back to him, nearly getting lost in the dreamy eyes of the man you can’t quite believe loves you the way he does. In a little voice you cheer, “We won, yay!”
“Yay!” chuckles Din.
Suddenly, a look of epiphany washes over your face as you pan to the screen where the winning score is displayed in bold font beneath the post game show hosts. You turn to look at Din, then slowly again to the TV and back. Sitting up straight, all business-like, you grin, “Seriously, Din - I’m going to need you to do this again. Every game until we win the cup.”
“Done.”
#din djarin#modern!din djarin#din djarin fic#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x reader#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin x you#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal characters
25 notes
·
View notes
Note
men whimpering pt 3 still hasnt met the goal!!! do you still plan on continuing the series??
Ah shit someone remembered I made those LMAO
I probably will eventually the clip gathering is a pain but the comments are the best thing ever and it’s quite fun to edit but I have other projects first my YouTube upload plan right now is:
1. Skybound Video
Really the accumulation of my S6 Fixation will talk about everything that I love in skybound but also FINALLY lay out all horrors. Skybound discomfort explained. Trying to see all sides and be as objective as possible emphasizing canon/implications/theory Will be voice reveal also I guess lol. The episode summary’s at the beginning should be funny.
2. Animatic
Been working on since December. I’m like, Half done. Posted some bits. Very angsty keeping it for the adult audience only. Won’t talk to much here unless I get asks. But I will post what can be enjoyed separately here disconnected. Cause I trust YouTube more at keeping out the kids.
3. Ninjago but only when men are whimpering.
Yes my channel’s tone is… eh not what I want but that’s not new. (I’m two lazy for two Ninjago accounts to organize my madness)
Once I’m done with the first two I will likely change the goal to 666 likes which we are close too. The only way I would prioritize 3 is if it was getting close to my ridiculous like goal.
I did collect and edit down clips from just Skybound already because I was rewatching it for other reasons and oof. The tone 😭 it’s so funny in a dark humor way like… Jay after learning he’s adopted. I- won’t say more but it’s a lot.
I need to finish this very important analysis of ninja over the seasons. I am very confident in my accuracy and standards.
#oli’s skybound insanity#Oli asks#ALSO PERSON WHO ASKED WHY DISLIKING NYA IN SKYBOUND IS A RED FLAG I AN GETTING TO IT#there is much I wanna say#ninjago#ninjago skybound#lego ninjago#ninjago but only when men are whimpering#the men whimpering rewatch#ninjago jay#ninjago thoughts#mmm all my co workers see is a normal functional adults lol#they shall not know about the Ninjago fixation
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
X-Men ‘97 or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Troll
Y’all, I’ve seen Gambit/Rogue/Romy fans flip the f*** out over the last month over X-Men ‘97. Like, legit anxiety and stress. And no TV show, much less little troll creator, should get this kind of reaction out of anyone. Stop trying to guess what’s in that tiny pea-brain’s head! We’re all just getting worked up over nothing that can be changed at this point. Season 1 is in the can and it ain’t gonna change between now and Wednesday. Beau’s already been fired, which is what we wanted to happen.
So what does that leave us?
• Gambit comes back in Ep 10?
Doesn’t really matter because we had 5 episodes of OOC and off canon that already ruined our enjoyment. We just need to tell Disney & Marvel to fix it in Season 2.
• Gambit doesn’t come back at all (or in a form we don’t like)?
We continue to express our distaste to Marvel & Disney to fix it in Season 2.
• Everything is just awful and only pays service to toxic masculinity Magneto fans?
We boycott the show and don’t buy merch. $$$ makes the Hollywood engine go round.
These things have worked for us for the comics before. Maybe years later, but Marvel has still had to reverse some really awful arcs. They’ll work again. Stressing over something that the wider X-audience is just now starting to complain about after Ep 9 is not good for any of us. And it detracts from enjoying some really good What Ifs in the series. Or just Gambit/Rogue/Romy What Ifs in general.
Does what happened in x-Men ‘97 suck? Absolutely.
Are we disappointed that again we’re robbed of Gambit/Rogue/Romy in motion media? Completely.
But are we going to give our abusers power to keep abusing us? Hell no.
So how do you strike a bully in the heart? Keep living your life as if they never existed. Keep cranking out the Gambit/Rogue/Romy Love.
And the worst case? We just ignore this AU like we have every other non-positive Gambit/Rogue/Romy plot/arc/show/movie we didn’t like before. X-Men ‘97 is not 616.
Let me repeat:
X-MEN ‘97 IS NOT 616
Our Favorite Characters are ramping up for a new comic this summer. Our OTP is still happily in love & married in the source material. X-Men ‘97 did not and cannot change that. So let the toxic-grooming-loving Magneto/Rogneto fans have their one instance where this works (and btw, only because Gambit is dead for Rogue to choose Magneto out of default).
We have more references, the source universe, and the Gambit/Rogue/Romy win in the end.
#Disney#marvel#xmen97#marvel 616#gambit#rogue#otp: home and harbor#remy lebeau#anna marie lebeau#otp: mon coeur#romy#rogue x gambit#gambit x rogue#gambit & rogue#rogue & gambit#x men 97#xmen 97#earth 616
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Atla episode reaction part 6: OKAY OKAY I watched episodes 8-13 today and omggg Zuko finally joins the gaang! I have so many thoughts rn OMG. Zuko standing up to ozai?? Zuko doing everything he could to earn the gaangs trust? Him doing impersonations of azula and iroh? Him going "why am I so bad at being good?"
This season is Zuko's season OMG. I love the dragon dancing episode? It was so cool!! I also like that toph was the first person to give Zuko a chance yknow? Defending him and stuff.
She understood the impact of inconsiderate family environment because she's been through the same. She had to run away from her parents aswell. I love the whole segment of katara going "we should give him a medal, the 'not as much of a jerk as you could've been' award 💀😭 hilarious
I love how aang is just a lil bro to Zuko almost immediately :( the seeds of their friendship was easily planted during season 1 when aang asked if they had met before they'd be friends.
ALSO KATARA CAN BLOODBEND. SHE CAN BLOODBEND YALL. HOLY FUCK.
Ugh only 8 more episodes :(( I'm sad the series is coming to an end so damn quickly, I'm still trying to watch it as slowly as possible to stall and extend my watch lol but today I crossed my episode limit (I have this unspoken rule that I should only watch 3/4 episodes a day but I watched 5 today). It just got way too interesting for me to NOT watch c'mon.
#Ugh 10/10 episodes#Literally none of the atla episodes have disappointed me so far#That's a rarity in shows omg I'm so glad I found this show. It's never too late right?#Even the filler episodes are good#atla#avatar the last airbender#aang#zuko#the gaang#katara#atla zuko#atla sokka#atla iroh#atla toph#atla azula#toph beifong#sokka#atla gaang
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
I just think they’re neat :]
#saint seiya#knights of the zodiac#los caballeros del zodiaco#pegasus seiya#andromeda shun#Ive fallen down a rabbit hole and can’t get up (I caved in and finally drew them. compressed sticky note cause I didn’t have my sketchbook)#Finally started watching the anime and went with the Spanish dub because the English one was butchered apparently#(To much of a slow reader to watch the Japanese og with subtitles)#Might info dumb on how I ran into this but for now I’ll say Mexico did this show justice#Also Shun and Seiya are best boys don’t even @ me#If anyone sees this and hasn’t watched/read the manga DO IT NOW DO IT NOW DO IT NOW DO IT NOW DO IT NOW DO IT NOW DO IT NOW DO IT NOW DO I-#(I love this series and it’s only been season 1)#Pegasus Fantasy hits *SO HARD*#Alright imma go do my project bye
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
i think my biggest beef with "Miss Scarlet and the Duke" is just the general awareness of the characters. I get that the entire point of the show is about a lady detective attempting to make her way in a man's world and having to fight her way through sexism prejudice and injustice for every single victory she claims, but there's a level of... modernity? to a lot of the issues addressed that just... doesn't quite flow with the setting and the rest of the writing, imho.
like--the female characters talk about how they can't do anything of importance because they're women, the gay characters talk about how they're 'outcasts of society' and 'marked for life' because of their sexuality, the misogynist male characters flaunt their male privilege over everyone, loudly, with extreme awareness. idk, it all just seems very much like inflicting modern views and opinions onto historical characters who couldn't possibly have the context to actually hold those views?
and don't get me wrong, I am not saying that these issues didn't exist in that time period. they did, and they were very real, and the people who faced them really did have to struggle in ways we'll not fully understand because we enjoy so much freedom today that had to be hard-won by previous generations. but there... was a bit of balance, I think, in a lot of ways? for instance, women weren't allowed to hold political power, but they had enormous social power. and I think a lot of that is overlooked and glossed-over in order to make a big loud statement about historical sexism and give a lot of snappy dialogue about how 'it's a man's world' and 'how DARE a woman do ANYTHING'.
and I say all this with caveats, too, because I just blazed through all of season 1 in two days, and I actually am enjoying the show! Eliza and William are both really fun characters, and I love their dynamic with one another! there's a lot of good stuff too in respect to how neither of them are fully clear-cut people with simplistic moral and ethical codes, they're not cardboard cut-outs but actual characters, and I appreciate that. and I appreciate that there are women of diverse backgrounds who want various different things from life and they're all represented equally and with dignity--same of the male characters. and I do think there's a historical precedent for a lot of the things that are brought up in the episodes! there's real history here. but I think the writers are missing some of the real depth of it for the sake of boiling everything down to focusing on One Specific Topic (ie, anti-woman sexism, social injustice, and general misogyny in the past and the struggle to be seen as An Actual Valid Professional as a woman in a career and profession completely dominated by men). and in a lot of ways, when the story really gets lost in itself and stops trying so hard to be About Sexism, it's a lot more immersive and enjoyable.
again, all just imho.
#miss scarlet and the duke#gurt says stuff#tv series#period dramas#like I said I only just finished season 1#and I'm loving the character growth!! especially William's struggle to decide between furthering his own career and not making himself#an outcast to his superiors for championing ''radical'' ideologies (having Eliza help him on cases and lauding her abilities as a female#detective) and remaining loyal to his friend who was trusting him to help her gain publicity#plus I find it hilarious that they have to argue about literally. every. single. thing. no matter how hard they try not to#I can relate. most of the friendships I've had with guys have been about like that actually. sdfkjhsdkfjhskdjfh#women's place in history and historical roles of women in what are usually thought of as 'male dominated societies' is one of my pet#interests too tho. so this was always prone to be something that would get me stirred up lol#I just watch too much Bernadette Banner and Karolina Zebrowska to Not have OpinionsTM about women's roles in history kdjfhksdfh#long post
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
WELCOME TO HERMIT-A-DAY MAY 2024!
I'm thrilled to bring this challenge to you all for the second year in a row! Hermit-a-Day May is a challenge inspired by Hermitober, but with a twist: instead of theme prompts, we focus on a specific Hermit every day!
THE RULES:
1. Any type of fanwork is welcome so long as it features, or is otherwise inspired by, the Hermit of the day.
2. Tag #hermitaday to have your fanwork reblogged, or submit it directly to the blog (Please note that while I recognize the value of fanworks involving more mature themes, and they can certainly count toward challenge completion if you're keeping track for yourself, content on this blog will be kept "PG-13" so that all may enjoy.).
3. Fanworks for one Hermit posted after the day rolls over to another Hermit's day (per the US Central time zone) will be reblogged in a big queue in June.
4. I am not interested in seeing captions or tags in which you disparage your art/skills. We're all improving all the time. Be kind to yourselves.
WHY SHOULD I PARTICIPATE? To show love to every Hermit, from the most to least subscribed, from those who have been on the server from day one to those who only joined this season! And because challenges are fun! And because, this year, there's an extra dimension to the event: a fundraiser for Gamers Outreach, featuring art incentives by @rendiggitydog and @belmarzi.
GRAND TOTAL INCENTIVE: For every $150 we raise for Gamers Outreach, belmarzi will make 10 seconds' worth of animatic, featuring as many Hermits as she can fit into the time frame.
INDIVIDUAL DONATION INCENTIVE: For every $50 (formerly $65 - changed 5/3) you personally donate to the fundraiser during the month of May, Rae rendiggitydog will draw you a shaded flats commission of a Hermit of your choice.
WHO’S RUNNING THIS? Hi! My name is Luna! You can use she/her, he/him, ze/hir, or ro/ros/roseself pronouns for me. My main blog is @as-if-unreal. Yep, before you ask, it really is just me, but to be fair I've had a lot of help.
BONUS SUNDAY PROMPTS EXPLAINED UNDER THE CUT
TFC - May 5th
While he may no longer be with us physically, TFC left behind him a legacy of quiet care and good humor, and Hermitcraft would not have been the same without him.
FRIENDS OF HERMITCRAFT - May 12th
There are plenty of shows, podcasts, competitions, other servers, and more woven into the internet ecosystem around Hermitcraft, and plenty more people involved in them: just as a small number of examples, Season 9's Rift opened up to a whole server of Emperor friends, and there are always allies to be made in MCC and enemies to be made in the Life Series. Today is for celebrating all of those who, while they may not be Hermits themselves, exist and entertain in proximity to them.
FAVORITE "ALT" HERMIT - May 19th
HoTGuY and Poultry-Man. Helsknight and Evil Xisuma. Renbob and - look, you get the idea. This server is full of theater kids ready to toss on an alternate skin and play into a brand new character at the drop of a hat. Who's your favorite?
GROUPS AND COLLABS - May 26th
This month is all about one Hermit a day... but what we really love is when they interact with each other. What does your favorite duo or group of Hermits get up to together?
#hermitaday#hermitcraft#hermit-a-day may#hermitcraft smp#vintagebeef#xisumavoid#zedaph#keralis#ijevin#mumbo jumbo#xbcrafted#skizzleman#stressmonster101#pearlescentmoon#cubfan135#docm77#falsesymmetry#welsknight#ethoslab#joehills#geminitay#bdoubleo100#iskall85#tangotek#zombiecleo#impulsesv#grian#goodtimeswithscar#hypnotizd#smallishbeans
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
😾Really Nice Guy Who Hates Only You
*part of the reverse trope series*
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Celebrity!Reader
Genre: Fluff/Miscommunication/Humor/SMAU
Summary: Oscar was known to be the epitome of a polite cat. His reputation is that he is genuinely nice to everyone. Well, everyone except for you.
*once again, I have loved writing for this series and it seems like everyone loves these chapters (as they have the highest notes out of all of them). I'm really excited for what is to come! I have loved making all the special tweets and other additions to the posts!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Oscar had been in a bad mood. The garage could practically feel the cloud that surrounded the Aussie as he walked through the garage on Saturday morning for the sprint. The scrunch of the nose and the constant side eyes also gave it away.
Normally, Oscar tends to be more on the quiet side. But today, he was even quieter. Gone was the polite cat, and it was replaced by a very grumpy feline.
“Hey Oscar! Come meet our guests!”
Oscar let out a sigh as he turned around and put a very fake smile on his face. This is the moment he had been dreading ever since you stepped into the garage. He did, or couldn’t, understand why you were wearing his number on the back of the jersey you wore.
It disgusted him.
You were very pretty though, he had eyes. Your hair went very well with the papaya orang and your smile could pretty much kill a man in a 10-foot radius. Except that right now, Oscar wanted your perfect hair to catch on fire and he’d avoid the smile.
When he finally got closer, he stopped a few feet in front of you, not wanting to get too close. Two hands clapped him on the shoulders as Lando started to shake him.
“So Os-cah, this is Y/n L/n, 2-time Grammy Award winner and probably the prettiest guest we’ve ever had.”
All right, so Lando was a gonner.
Oscar fought the urge to roll his eyes right into the back of his head so he wouldn’t have to look at you anymore. But your smile was oh-so pretty. You looked at him with wide eyes as you held out your hand for a shake.
However, Oscar just looked at it, then looked at you.
“Welcome.”
Lando reeled back, confused at his younger teammate’s coldness. The two watched as your smile faltered just a bit. (If Oscar had any remorse, he didn’t show it.) You were quick to recover and spread another smile, even if this one wasn’t as real as the first.
You put your hand down as you greeted, “It’s such an honor to finally meet you! I’ve been a fan for what feels like forever.”
Oscar grunted. “Can’t say the same.”
You absolutely wanted to whimper. You had been waiting to be invited to a Formula 1 garage ever since you won your first Grammy. And well, you had other offers from Red Bull or Ferrari, but the McLaren garage is the one you wanted to be your first. So, you had declined and declined until you knew that you could meet the driver that you had been following for so long.
But now that you finally met him, you wondered why he was such an asshole.
You pushed down your feelings and continued. “That’s ok. My music isn’t for everyone. But I wanted to congratulate you on your rookie season last year!”
“Thanks.”
Ok, Lando knew something was up and he couldn’t take the hurt-puppy-eyes coming from you anymore. The Briton was about to say something, but Zak had decided to interrupt with another celebrity guest.
“Guys, this is Sabrina, she’s also joining Miss L/n in the garage today. Ladies, we have two headsets for you in the back when we’ll go over some last minute car things if you’d like to listen in!” Zak explained.
It only hurt when Oscar eyes lit up at your fellow musician, brushing past you to personally introduce himself. Lando was now left with a very sad Grammy winner on his hands. He gently put his arm around your waist to bring you to the side.
When a long sigh escaped your lips, Lando felt awful.
“Y/n, I swear he’s normally the nicest person on the planet. Oscar always seems to love everyone, no matter the guest.”
Your eyes flitted over to where Oscar was now animatedly talking to Sabrina about her new album. You let out a scoff.
“Yeah, everyone but me. Maybe I should have just taken the offer from Red Bull or Ferrari.”
Lando pouted. He knew that you had been a fan of Oscar’s way back to the start of his F2 season. And then you had purposefully put the word McLaren in many different songs. Hell, your newest album titled “Momentum” was basically a love letter to your beloved team. You even had plans to become an investor once you could make the first payment.
The Briton felt lost. “I was going to find Max and Charles if you’d like to join me?”
You took one more look at Oscar, not surprised to see him glare at you from the side. That action made up your mind and you agreed to go with Lando.
Taking with Max and Charles was like a breath of fresh air. The two were great conversationalists and pretty funny. The Monegasque even invited you into one of the media buildings to look at the behind the scenes, which put you in awe.
The two rivals, thought, couldn’t understand why you were attached to Lando when you had a giant 81 on the back of your jersey.
“Have you met Oscar yet?” Charles asked. When you tensed, he knew that he had asked a wrong question. Your expression quickly became sad.
“Yeah. But I don’t think he likes me very much,” you muttered.
Max scoffed. “That’s absurd. He’s quiet, but he’s nice to everyone.”
Lando winced. “But for some reason, he was being really rude and just standoff-ish.”
You looked so dejected. “At first I thought he might not be a fan of my music, but then he was super smiley with Sabrina and we co-wrote most of mine and her songs. So it’s not the genre.”
The Briton wanted to try to bring your spirits back up, but he noticed the time and said that you and him had to be back at the garage. You said your goodbyes to the Dutchman and Monegasque before you followed Lando back to the garage.
On your way in, Oscar sent you yet another glare as he got ready to be in the car.
Although he had been mean, you still said, “Good luck.”
Maybe he heard you or didn’t, but he never responded or acted like he took it to heart.
When Oscar was able to overtake multiple cars and finish the sprint in P2, you were ecstatic. His terrible attitude did not hinder your joy for the Aussie. You didn’t secretly call yourself the #1-Piastri fan for nothing. Sabrina laughed next to you as you hopped up and down, glad that your driver finished well in the points.
It was sad for Lando who didn’t make it past P5, but the Briton explained that qualifying for the actual race is when it truly counted.
You watched with stars in your eyes as Oscar walked up after Charles to be interviewed by Jensen Button.
The former driver asked the first question.
“Oscar, first congrats on the P2, you did a lot of overtaking. Was that in the strategy?”
The Aussie laughed, really showing that he indeed was polite to everyone.
“Well the strategy is always to win, but we were close with all the upgrades. It’s been good and I’m ready for the races to come.”
A few more questions were asked and exchanged before Jensen somehow brought you up.
“So we saw that Y/n L/n and Sabrina Carpenter were both in the McLaren garage. And we all know that Y/n is a massive McLaren fan as well as your fan. Have you listen to any of her songs?”
Many people definitely saw the change in facial expression when your name was brought up. The smiley Oscar was replaced with a bored one.
“Well, I don’t really listen to artists who bash or make fun of my driving.”
Jensen gave me a very curious look. “She actually praises you in most of her songs.”
The Aussie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like the one where she said she crashed her McLaren like Piastri.”
Your eyes widened, along with everyone else in the garage. Those were definitely not the lyrics to one of your songs. Lando also had wide eyes and he was looking right at you, who seemed to be on the verge of a mental breakdown.
“I would never do that,” you said, looking into Lando’s hazel eyes. The Briton looked puzzled. He had specifically played or sung songs for the Aussie that mentioned McLaren or Oscar.
You kind of just sank into the background, trying to process what could have gone wrong. Lando on the other hand raced to catch Oscar as he was walking into the garage.
“Mate, what are you doing?” Oscar asked as Lando was directing him to one of the driver rooms. Lando slammed the door and turned to Oscar.
“What are the lyrics to Y/n’s song?”
There was another eye roll. “Lando you sung them to me like two weeks ago.”
Land shook his head. “But tell me.”
Oscar huffed, “Small talk, big love. Act like you don’t care but I disagree. When I crashed my McLaren like Piastri.”
“Stop!”
The Aussie cocked his head.
Lando continued, “Those aren’t the lyrics you muppet. It’s ‘When I crashed my McLaren like past me.’ A few years ago, Y/n used to wreck a lot of cars at a teen. She got better and decided to buy a McLaren when your seat was announced for 2023. And then she crashed it on accident after she got broken up with.”
A look of realization washed over Oscar’s face and then a look of dread. A giant sigh left his lips. Lando thought he was going to pass out or something but the second Papaya driver quickly ran out of the room. He stopped short of where you had sat in the back of the garage and quietly started to step closer.
Your head was in your hands but you looked up when you heard footsteps. You were shocked to be looking at Oscar, who had a guilty look on his face. You shot up out of your seat and began to ramble.
“Oscar, I swear, I would never back and diss you in any of my songs. You’re truly my favorite driver and I was so excited to meet you. I have put your name in my songs before, but it’s only been praise. I’m so sorry that you’ve been thinking that I’d make fun of your driving and-“
Oscar held out a hand to stop you.
But now it was his turn to ramble, hands flying everywhere.
“You’re sorry? I’m sorry. I’ve been an utter asshole to you all day. That was horrible of me. Lando sung me the song a few weeks ago, but it was pretty mumbled because he couldn’t remember some of the words and I heard Piastri instead of past me and I just thought the worst and…”
Lando was having a field day watching you watch Oscar with stars in your eyes as he apologized over and over again.
The Briton pretended to dust his hands off as he watched Oscar pull out his phone and offer it to you.
“Another day, another matchmaking completed.”
y/n_l/n has posted
y/n_l/n thank you so much McLaren for the amazing day today! It was truly a dream come true to meet my all time favorite driver!
little surprise for everyone else - Florida is yours (inspired by a special someone) 🧡
liked by mclaren, its_papaya, oscarpiastri, landoscar, and 3,205,195 others
queeny/n OH MY GOSH NEW SONG AFTER THE MIAMI RACE??
y/n&f1 wouldn't the song be written for Logan then?
y/nxoscar she said inspired - didn't mean that it's actually about him
oscah81 P2 SPRINT RACE AND POSSIBLE NEW WAG
landonorris I too would like a song pls
charles_leclerc we all know she wrote golden about me ♥️
maxverstappen1 I claim midnight rain then
landonorris ☹️
y/n_l/n it's ok lando - working on one now!
y/nsgrammy to think that Oscar thought she dissed him when she's like his biggest fan ever
oscargirlie y/n get's us with the second picture
oscarpiastri was the second picture necessary? and Florida? when did you have time to write that??
y/n_l/n 1. yes, it was very necessary, 2. I wrote it when you ignored me
oscarpiastri and you still wrote me a song?
y/n_l/n of course! most of my songs had you written in mind ☺️
oscarpiastri so. . . dress?
y/n_l/n 😳🤭
loscar-land your honor I love them
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#Oscar Piastri#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one x y/n#formula one x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula one smau#formula one x you#formula one fanfiction#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#oscar piastri x fem!reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
it’s nothing new | sebastian vettel
part 1 part 3
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading! you can read it here!
“hello?”
“mark, hi.”
“y/n? it’s been a while. how are you?” the aussie asked. it had been years since you spoke to mark, but he always kept you updated. he sent messages about how everyone in the paddock was doing, which you appreciated him for.
“i . . i’m okay. is this a bad time to talk to you?” you asked. you suddenly remembered about time zones.
“it’s alright, i always have time for you. what’s going on?” he questioned.
“so i am at my sister’s house and i didn’t want to sleep the whole flight so i decided to read your book.” you replied. “it’s a beautiful book, mark.”
“thanks.” he knew there was more you wanted to say. “are you mad?”
“mad about what?” you asked. “what you wrote about sebastian and i? is that what you’re talking about?”
“well yeah. i tried to contact you several times. you wouldn’t answer my messages so i assumed you changed numbers. seb told me he didn’t care if i wrote it in—”
“mark, i’m not mad. i’m far from it. i just want to know if it’s true. did he tell you everything? the night he won the title, i mean.” you asked. you remembered that night clearly. you didn’t finish the race, but that didn’t stop you from celebrating with sebastian.
“he would never lie about you, love. i told him to tell you, just to get it off his chest but he wouldn’t. you were with someone else, it was wrong.” mark explained. “you know the day you announced your engagement, he hated himself for not telling you sooner. maybe things would’ve ended differently if he had.”
maybe . .
“does he hate me?”
there was always that possibility. but when it came to sebastian, he would rather die than say he hates you.
“he could never hate you even if you did throw a show at him and call him a cunt.” mark chuckled. “he still loves you, you know, he asks about you all the time and i have no idea what to tell him.”
“well maybe i could tell him myself . . do you have his phone number?”
after you were given seb’s number, you noticed he never changed it. you weren’t sure why, but you decided to text him instead of calling.
y/n
hi seb, it’s y/n. i know it’s been so long and i’m sorry for how things ended. i hope you’re doing great. i’m not doing too good right now. my marriage is ending so i have that going for me. i’m staying with my sister and her family. anyways, i hope you don’t mind me messaging you. mark gave me your number but turns out i still have it saved. speaking of mark, i read his book on the flight, it’s very interesting. i’ll leave you alone now, thanks for caring about me all these years.
after you sent the message, you didn’t expect a reply. it was as if he was waiting for a message this whole time.
seb
hi y/n. i hope you know i never forgot about you after all this time. i’m sorry about your marriage, i really am. i don’t mind at all that you message me, i never changed my number in hopes that one day you would. as for mark’s book, i hope you’re not mad, but if you need to know, it’s all true and i wouldn’t change anything. being with you made me happy and everytime i hear your name, i’m reminded of the joyful memories we shared. i have something to tell you, only a few people know. i plan to retire at the end of the 2022 season. it would be nice if you would come to abu dhabi for my last race. i understand if you can’t make it. take care and i love you always. (it’s nothing new at this point)
@hc-dutch @lightdragonrayne @multiplefandomwritings @woozarts @jggykhug09090 @neivivenaj @kissesandmartinis @barnestatic @avythef1addict
#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x you#sebastian vettel one shot#sebastian vettel smau#sebastian vettel instagram au#sebastian vettel fluff#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel#sv5#sebastian vettel fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
one amazing thing about the Owl House finale is that it finally contextualized for me one of the central metaphors of the show. Spoilers for the series finale Watching and Dreaming ahead.
we good? no one spoiling themselves? beauty
for a long time now, I thought we had a pretty standard coming-of-age metaphor dichotomized by the show's central antagonists. you've got your protestant witch hunter Belos who introduces a maturity and ugliness to Luz's narrative; he clearly represents a particular, restricting form of adulthood, and just when Belos becomes his most threatening, boom, enter the Collector, Luz's dangerously naïve inner child to ruin all her development on the Boiling Isles. Seems simple enough
what I didn't anticipate was just how specific and personal their roles in the story actually are to Luz once you have the full context from the series finale
look again
this story - this whole series - is about the grief that a neurodivergent kid experienced at a young age, introducing the cruelty of loss and adulthood before she was ready to handle it. and, how to reclaim a more whole understanding of herself as she rebuilds her life with people who get her
Belos is designed to infect the titan carcass like a disease. a cancer. it's super goddamn significant that the titan is King's dad (King, who became Luz's younger brother). they set up Belos not just to be another fascist kids' cartoon villain (although yeah, he do be doing some of that), but to specifically become a force that oppressed the weirdness from the one place that understood Luz. the Iles. the dad. And by the end of the story, Belos's goopy body-horror isn't just for show, he's just like the cancer or other terminal disease that took Luz's dad from her
he's the thing Luz hasn't processed in season 1 that comes in at the end like a warning. he's the threat that forces Luz to grapple with her own humanity, feeling somehow (often completely unjustifiably) harmful to those around her, through the grief she doesn't want to be a burden or the weirdness (neurodivergence) others don't understand. he's the force that says there is something wrong with you, Luz, give in to your grief, this is what you can't face. this is the lie you've been telling to those closest to you: that you're okay
then you have the Collector. (notable that he's a collector, and we see Luz's mom and dad had quite the collection of nerdy memorabilia)
the Collector is the child too young to understand death. Too young to understand consequences, or why their playmates don't feel like playing anymore with someone so weird and maybe a bit too involved in their own world. The Collector is Luz's inner child, that kid we see right before the "worst week ever" — the one who didn't and couldn't understand what was about to happen even as it was going down. unapologetically weird, a bit destructive and short-sighted, but wholly colourful, wholly themselves. that's why the Collector wants to live out Luz's adventures, but without all the depth. just the fun escapist fantasy
but don't think I forgot the internal conflict! :D
because Camila's role also gets an added depth too: Camila was framed at the outset of the series as someone who loved Luz, but wanted her to fit inside a box that she just didn't. later, Luz completely misconstrued her mom's breakdown when she learned that Luz chose to run away. as many people have pointed out by now, Luz misremembers the actual dialogue that Camila says: Camila only wanted her daughter safe, not to lose her. Luz meanwhile felt like she had to choose to destroy this part of herself, or give up her connection with her mom altogether
but we know now Camila actually deeply relates to Luz. she may not understand Luz's fascination with horrific things like on the boiling isles (very akin to a kid getting more grim hobbies in the wake of a death, like Luz's taxidermy), but she loves Luz for who she is. all of her. she never wanted Luz to change
Luz was the one framing the central conflict of the show as go back to her mom or stay in the boiling isles. Luz was the one who felt like she had to punish herself by rejecting the one place where she felt like herself. once Camila realizes what's been going on, and how deeply connected it is to the loss of Luz's dad, she knows Luz is trying to make a "very bad choice for herself." And she won't let that happen (what a great mom!!)
But Luz does have one real choice ahead of her
because of the inner child who once again has to confront death (this time, Luz's own), Luz is able to connect with a father figure, the titan, the one place she feels understood. in the form of a power-up that makes her into a fantasy witch straight out of the Good Witch Azura, the one place she got joy after that huge loss, the titan gives her the strength to face the cancer—a force draining everything good in her life from her and making her question she deserves it in the first place—but only if she can choose herself
and that means choosing happiness, choosing found family, choosing love and friendship and self-discovery in the place she feels most at home! every bond she's forged, everything she's worked for, it all comes down to choosing to face grief and move on in life with weirdos who stick together.
hoot hoot, that's some good metaphor
#the owl house#toh spoilers#luz noceda#eda clawthorne#king clawthorne#the collector#emperor belos#camila noceda#i may update the post with images at some point but I figured that's more likely to unintentionally spoil others#watching and dreaming
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
Why does the fandom think Nathalie cares about Adrien? She's always all monotone indifference and "this is what your father says/wants". Yet the fandom likes leaving Adrien in her care post-hawkmoth sometimes? If you're really gonna read into things like that let's praise the one adult who DOES care about him- his bodyguard! Remember how the mere sight of him was enough to calm him down enough to thwart Hawkmoth's intentions in the gigantitan episode?
But no seriously I'm so bad at noticing these things- why do people think she cares about more than Gabriel?
Welp, she is the reason Gabriel let Adrien go to school according to Origins Part 2, and then we got the Great Hiatus to let that one tiny moment of feelings sit and fester in the fandom brain.
And Season 5 definitely did it's hardest to frame Nathalie as Here For Adrien, so it's like the whole series is bookended by That version of Nathalie.
But I get the confusion, Nathalie's been all over the damn place. Different Seasons characterize her almost like adjacent sister versions of herself? Like not a TOTALLY different person, but different enough that I'm worried about body snatchers lol. I pretty much compartmentalize Nathalie according to the season:
Season 1 - Belligerent Assistant who's job description does not and should not include taking care of her boss's son yet here she freaking is.
Season 2 - Reveal that she's totally In-The-Know, her indifference has reached knew levels of being just outright negligent, she is officially culpable.
Season 3 - Team Rocket era where she is fully into the evil dramatics. Also the gross fun addition of her officially being In Love™️with her boss and being angsty about it despite her bringing it upon herself. Also girl he's so crusty get some standards.
Season 4 - Bedridden bionic woman. Was it worth it? WAS IT WORTH IT?!
Season 5 - Pissed off divorcee era. She is actively picking fights and weaponizing the children at her not-ex, and while I'm side eyeing the last 4 seasons, I am here for this level of sass while she scoffs at Gabriel being his Worst Self™️. Too bad about the whole Dying thing but hey. You gotta make up for...all of that other stuff, right?
She's just kinda doomed to not be a cohesive character. I do like her heel turn in Season 5, especially because she was RIGHT, Gabriel had THE OPPORTUNITY to save not only Emilie but also Nathalie and threw it away because he wants to throw hands with teenagers. I too would walk away after that spectacular display of failure. I kinda wish she had someone to talk to, like even Duusu, just to explain that the only reason she hasn't exposed Gabriel altogether is because he'd definitely expose her as well and then Adrien'd be left alone. Like it's easy to infer that, but in a kids show, stuff like motivations kinda need to be laid out neatly.
Cuz otherwise it leaves it open ended - is she covering to spare Adrien from being essentially orphaned, or is she covering to save her own ass? After the 5ish versions of her, either interpretation is fair.
702 notes
·
View notes
Text
convenient pt. 2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
pt. 1 (you cannot read part 2 with no context).
summary - he totally just cares if you pass your exams, nothing else. there is no other reason he keeps coming back to your convenience store.
genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x early season!spencer
warnings - school work, incorrect science stuff bc i’m just a girl
a/n - thank you all for the love on the first part!!! it was so surprising, especially since it was the first fic i’ve uploaded on this blog, i love y’all so much 🫶 thank you to those who suggested to make this a series, i would’ve totally made this a oneshot if not for y’all.
“you got any plans tonight spencer?”, morgan asked, taking his jacket off the back of his chair, passing spencer’s clean desk.
“uh, yeah actually.”
“really?” morgan stopped beside him, looking over his shoulder, a smirk crawling up, “with who?”
“moby dick.” spencer lied, morgan rolled his eyes.
“you’re no fun man.”
the doorbell rang, but after not seeing a certain skinny man for two nights, you’re mind starting to reset into the ‘studying grind mode’ it had been on before meeting spencer. stop thinking about spencer, keep studying.
three ladies dressed in short skirts, a white man with dreads (yikes), and a boy around 8 years old checked out with various items before a 3 minute cannelloni, bag of coffee, and an apple landed in front of you. before you could look up he spoke,
“how did your assignment go?” you jumped in your seat, nearly punching the man in the face before you placed a hand over your heart and sighed,
“good lord, you need to learn how to walk louder.”
spencer grinned. you scanned the cannelloni, he glanced at your hand still over your heart.
“rubatosis.”
“bless you?”
“the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.” you glanced up and saw him looking at your hand with a thin lipped awkward smile. you quickly put your hand down and continued scanning, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“we all know words. like… vellichor.” you spoke, packing his things in the same plastic bag he brought just little of a week ago. he tilted his head,
“the love of used bookstores?”
“i saw old books in your car.”
“you were looking in my car?” he put his hands in his pockets, as he looked out the window to his parked vehicle, not planning to pick up his bag of ‘groceries’ anytime soon. only then did you notice his tie was askew, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes a little sunken. the doorbell rung, a middle-aged balding man walking in behind spencer.
“i’m observant. $12.98.” he whipped out a slim wallet from his back pocket, flicking through some notes to pull out a $20. you ruffled through the register for his change as he remarked,
“you didn’t even look at the register.”
“don’t need to, you’re predictable.” you reply with a sneaky smile, causing spencer to copy reluctantly.
there was an awkward cough from behind him, the middle-aged man. spencer turned back to you after realising that he was in fact in a convenience store, and you were in fact the only worker there. “sorry sir, um. bye.” he took his bag, the thin lipped smile becoming nearly as predictable as his late-night groceries.
“bye.”
the tall, awkward, superbly smart man who smelt like wood didn’t show up for 5 nights. you thought there were only three possibilities at his absence: sickness, death, or he’s learnt how to cook.
you thought the next time you saw him you would ask more about him. in between studying, classes, and working, there wasn’t much time for a social life in your day to day. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wasn’t showing up because he wasn’t really a regular, just a guy who needed quick meals, coffee, and apples on those specific nights. that’s insane, you are insane, get back to studying.
you almost didn’t recognise him the next night. same clothes, same height, same cologne, different face. dark circles under his eyes, permanent lines between his eyebrows, and a purple bruise on his left cheek. it was silent, he was the only customer at 11:30pm. you both made eye contact while you scanned his items, (same things plus a travel first aid kit) silently observing his expectant expression before you broke the silence.
“i’m not going to ask.”
“i got hit with the butt of a gun.” he said matter of factly.
you halted, coffee bag in hand, and stared at him, squinting. “…okay. actually i am gonna ask. who would hit a librarian with the butt of a gun?”
he scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head, blinking, “i’m not a librarian. why do you think i’m a librarian?”
you packed his things, “smart, dressed posh, just general mysterious good looking librarian vibe,” he handed you a $20, “you remind me of a pipe cleaner with eyes.”
he raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact, “not the first time i’ve heard that.”
you laughed, thinking it was a joke. his shoulders relaxed, the lines between his eyebrows softening. he grabbed his things, “bye, y/n.”
“bye, spencer.”
you were so close to finding out more about him. how the hell does a man that looks like that get into so much trouble?
you finish your shift, packing your textbooks and now flat laptop, locking everything up and turning the lights off. it was 1am. and, spencer was asleep in his car.
you looked around and put your jacket around your shoulders before jogging up to his driver’s window. his head was lulled to one side, mouth closed, chest rising softly. you knocked, and suddenly he was wide-eyed and searching for something.
“spencer? what are you still doing here?” you speak just loud enough for him to hear behind the window, which he promptly put down. you had a split second realisation how crazy this was. checking in on a regular, watching a regular sleep, feeling safe enough to approach a man’s car just because he buys the same thing every night he comes to the convenience store.
“sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep. i- uh,” he wiped his face, “sorry.”
you look at him with concern, “it’s okay, just.. try not to look like you were waiting for me to finish my shift to kidnap me next time, okay?”
he sighed and nodded. waving goodbye, you started down the street, your apartment only being a block away. over the music now playing in your ears, you heard a car drive away, mixing with your confused thoughts about who this regular really is and what he does for a living. and how does he look that good.
he was back the next night, same black slacks, with a purple sweater a shade darker than your own.
“hey spencer, before i scan your 3 minute bolognese, coffee and bag of apples-“
“how did you get that perfectly-“
“i’m going to ask this and you’re going to answer, okay?”
you know nothing about this man, but talking to him like a good friend felt natural now. though, you still tried to avoid over stepping it.
“-though you don’t actually have to answer it. you are a customer and i can’t force customers to do anything but- seeing as though you know i’m a college student and that i work at this convenience store and that i sort of suck at biology- sorry i’m rambling,” you take a breath, “where do you work?” you finish, spencer smiling slightly. you were surprised he didn’t cut you off to stop you, like everyone else did. he didn’t answer at first, the squeak of your shoe against the floor displayed your anxious tell.
“i can’t tell you.”
you sighed, rolling your eyes and packing his stuff, he already had a $20 ready in his hand. you took it, fingers brushing slightly against his. “you suck, and your so suspicious. i should just call security.”
he looked around, fiddling his fingers together, “you don’t have security.”
you pointed to a dead cockroach outside underneath the warm street light. “yes we do. why do you think he’s twitching? he’s insane, he’ll hurt you.”
he chuckled, the sound bringing a shade of pink to your cheeks. “you don’t work on weekends.”
you squinted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and maybe a bit of fear. “what.”
“i came in on a weekend and a man was here.” he explained as you nodded.
“yeah, no i don’t. why?”
spencer gulped, taking his bag, and smiling awkwardly, “nothing, bye!”
you waved, confused. also stressed, you hadn’t worked on your psychology assignment while waiting for him to show up.
pt. 3
taglist- @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @wannabewolf @evysian @trashmonstersara
#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x yn#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fluff
940 notes
·
View notes
Text
u suck !! (m) (3tan special) | myg
3tanoween special: u suck !!
pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)
series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted
rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au
summary: jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume.
note: BOO!! :))) happy halloween and i love you all so so much. if you haven't read three tangerines or the rest of the series yet, i highly recommend diving into that first! this would make a whole lot more sense lol
note 2: this is gonna be heavily unedited bc i literally started it on tues🥹 and consider this a pocket universe/side story for now until i mention anything otherwise :))
warnings: [explicit warnings under the cut] language, house party, alcohol/drug mentions, vampires are present but there’s a different type of sucking going on HEYO!!, tight spaces, yoongiiiiii🥺🥺🥺, one (1) uncomfy hug, jimin is a warning, yoongi is a bigger warning, kissing is a staple warning atp, yoongi in black leather and chains ahahahahah, tension, angst bc it’s me🤪, you have to be quiet :)), but it’s so hard :))), yoongi hands🥴, so many doll mentions, cus this reader is a barbie!!!, this yoongi is out of control and i’m not stopping him 🤷, ermmmmmm yoongi’s voice🧍♀️this is all i can say🧍♀️, ...VMIN???
drop date: oct. 28th, 2023, 12:17am est
word count: 11.5k🫣
explicit warnings: choking, head/hair tugging, min yoongi king of consent wbk, fingering, breath play, oral (m rec), ass play, chains lmfaooo, tears, face fucking, back shots, cum swallowing, breast play, protective sex, …public sex🫣, nasty dirty talk, he’s rude and we love it and he knows that we love it😩
—
—
“Oh, did you get the cookies?”
“Yeah, they’re already in the back,” you huff out as you rush around the car. After getting in and catching your purse strap on your very pink heel, you explain while slipping it free, “And don’t worry, I made un-iced ones for you.”
Your brother sighs in relief, as if you’ve never done that for him before. “Thank god.” As he backs out of the driveway, he gives your costume another glance. “That damn movie. I feel like I’m gonna see three hundred of y’all tonight.”
“Barbie was great and you know it.”
“Whatever. Aren’t you gonna be cold later?”
“I got this.”
Steering the wheel, he sighs, “Okay.. You’re gonna regret that.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Fixing your tee and smoothing out your skirt, you make a mental note that he didn’t comment the usual things about your costume this time. Whether it’s because you grilled him about the Dalo incident or not, you’re pleasantly surprised.
The only thing he complained about was that couldn’t dress how he wanted in peace.
“You still could’ve been Ken, you know,” you think out loud. “All you had to do was throw fur over that jersey.”
“Nah, the coat I got is expensive as fuck.”
“So is the jersey?”
“I have two of these.”
“…I will never understand you.”
The drive to Jimin’s isn’t too far, and the streets are already occupied with people in various characters. When you pass by a Ghostface costume with pink heels and a sign that says ‘This Barbie has a knife!,’ both you and your brother give it an approving laugh.
If the atmosphere in the neighborhood was buzzing, it’s Jimin’s cul-de-sac that bursts with the biggest Halloween charm.
Every yard around the semi-circle is chock full of decorations, from the ghoulish to the whimsical. Orange and purple lights scale whole houses, trees are covered in ghosts, and inflatable spiders and kittens rest on every surface you can see. Glee spreads throughout the whole setting as trick-or-treaters of all ages stop along the sidewalks, gawking at the views and running up to doors to procure sweets.
It’s magical.
But you can’t enjoy it at the moment because your brother has to park way down the main street. Which means you’re subjected to his teasing as you make the trek in enormous heels.
Ugh.
At least he’s carrying everything.
“Damn, look at that house,” you point, adjusting your purse and almost teetering over.
“That’s a shit ton of cobwebs.”
“The lights are so nice, though.”
“Uh huh.”
After forever, you finally get to Jimin’s house, going through the open garage and already greeting the yells and hugs upon arrival. Some people are dressed up and some are in their regular clothes, but everyone seems chipper.
And it’s even louder inside the house. All of you have to practically yell to hear each other.
“Hey! You made it!”
Damn, Jimin looks good as a vampire.
As your brother says hi, you try super hard to not stare at his silver hair, avoiding his bare chest under that ruffled white shirt entirely. “Hey, Chim! You’re all decked out, holy shit.”
“Ah, thank you! We both are. The lady at the Halloween place gave us a discount.”
“For what?”
“Uhh, being cute? What else?”
Adorable. If he went with Taehyung to get costumes, you wonder how extravagant your best friend looks.
When you laugh, Jimin stops to look at you with his jaw dropped. “Wow, look at you, Barbie!” Turning to your brother, he teases, “You let this happen?”
“I will throw you against the wall right now, fang boy,” he responds with no hesitation, which pulls a high cackle.
“No fighting tonight, please,” you drone, smiling while giving the handsome vampire a side hug. “Everything looks so good!”
“Yeah? Spent all day decorating.”
“Well, it shows.” Noting how Jimin always has great cologne, you take the trays from your brother while asking, “Where do you want these?”
“Ah, in the kitchen! Here,” he offers, sliding them onto his puffy sleeves. “Follow me. You can see what we have.”
His cloak brushes both your legs as you’re led into the big area, and your eyes feast on the assortment of themed desserts and drinks.
Whoa. There’s even a bubbling pot of red punch? Jimin really has gone all out this year.
Maybe Tae has something to do with this uptick in ambition.
“Yoongi! You, too?”
Huh? Him, too?
“Yeah, it’s fucking hot.”
Hot? What could possibly be—
Oh.
Fucking.
Hell.
It’s your fault for assuming it was Tae that Jimin went to the store with. It’s your fault for not even entertaining the possibility that Yoongi would dress up.
And it’s all your fault for not being able to process what’s happening because even your own brother teases you when you cannot form words.
You can’t help it. There’s literally no way.
Because seeing this man up close, decked out head to toe in shiny black leather and hair properly tousled as if he just had wicked sex?
How the fuck are you supposed to react!
“I think you broke a wire in there somewhere,” Jimin comments through puffs of giggles, finally snapping you out of your inappropriately timed trance. “Ah, there she is!”
Recover. Holy shit, you gotta recover.
“I just—” You gesture to the demon with your hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever dress up.”
And Yoongi has the audacity to respond with,
“Why?”
“I mean. I thought you were..” Flailing for anything, you blurt, “I dunno, boring?”
Amusement shoots out of both your brother and Jimin, carving a sickly upward curve into Yoongi’s face. When he looks away to poke his cheek, you know something’s coming.
But when he glances back and drags his eyes from your feet to your awaiting face, you're completely unprepared when he drawls,
“And you dressed basic for what?”
Disbelief slams your jaw straight into the ground, your little audience bent back with laughs so loud that some people around your group glance over.
Oh, you wanna launch yourself at him so fucking bad. Wipe that stupid, smug taunt off his face.
But there are other ways to come out victorious. And you can’t exactly do anything with your sibling so close.
“Alright. Okay,” you hum, nodding and thinking of a thousand ways to incite revenge in private. “I’ll remember that.”
“Won’t help you, doll.”
Shit, did he really just call you that out loud?
Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it he’s just saying that in the open because you’re a Barbie. “Whatever, Neo.”
Yoongi quickly smiles in confusion. “Neo? I’m a vampire!”
“Oh, yeah, cus you suck.”
Your brother and Jimin are full on titillated now. While one blows out air, the other plants a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder while creasing over from glee.
And you spot your friends arriving, which turns into perfect timing for you to slowly retreat with a middle finger and a lip bite. “Bye, suckas!”
Your brother can only shake his head before turning to grab a cup, and you barely—just barely—catch the fiendish spark in Yoongi’s eyes as he bites his grin right back.
You can’t believe you got through that whole interaction so smoothly.
Because every time you’ve caught peeks of Yoongi since then, your body’s reaction is downright visceral. Borderline feral.
And it reaches its peak when you get a text from the devil himself.
Yoongi [10:02pm]: Fuck
Shit, you can’t do this.
If you start texting now, too? There’s no way you’re gonna be able to resist him.
But the two drinks in your system are very smooth talkers, and you’re convinced immediately.
You [10:02pm]: what🥺
“Let’s go!” Yuri yells, dragging you along.
“Where’re we going?”
“Garage. Table’s about to be open.”
From the backyard, it takes a minute for you all to weave through the people inside to get to the designated card game area. So you don’t get to read Yoongi’s text until you’re waiting for a table to clear.
Yoongi [10:04pm]: You know exactly what
You [10:04pm]: 🤪🖕
Yoongi [10:04pm]: I better not find you alone
Fuck, you want that. Frankly, there’s literally nothing you want more right now.
It’s been way too long since you’ve seen each other, and even more since you’ve gotten to do anything that leaves you breathless.
So being this deprived and witnessing him in that costume? Yoongi’s the vampire but you’re the one that wants to suck the soul out of him.
You [10:07pm]: maybe i want that
It’s official. You can’t hold back your replies tonight even if you try.
Between drinking and a haze of thoughts solely connected to him, you find yourself getting more and more needy.
Yoongi [10:07pm]: You don’t
You [10:08pm]: but shyyy
You [10:08pm]: whyyy*
This is bad.
Why can’t he be super annoying instead—
Yoongi [10:10pm]: 🤷♂️
Well.
You [10:10pm]: 😐
Yoongi [10:10pm]: Lmaooo
Taehyung chuckles next to you, and you immediately lock your phone while giving him a slight nudge. “Shut up…”
“I will once you stop sexting.”
“We are not!”
“Uh huh. And I’m not wearing a suit.”
Scoffing, you give him a once-over, wondering why everyone except for Yoongi decided to forego a goddamn shirt today. “What are you supposed to even be?”
“A model.”
He’s full of shit. “You just wanted to wear this outfit, huh.”
“Yup.”
Small huffs leave you both as you wait just a bit longer, and you let the night air and music lift your spirits until you get another text.
Yoongi [10:13pm]: You look great, doll
Why does he have to say all the right things?
You truly don’t know how you ended up here. To be able to receive compliments like this from him of all people? It’s a wonder this whole thing isn’t just one big dream.
Fueled by the excitement and comfort only October can bring, you lean into this conversation and type a genuine reply.
You [10:13pm]: so do you baby
You [10:13pm]: i better not find you alone either
Wait.
Have you ever been that bold?
Seems like tonight is making you a bit scary, too.
Yoongi [10:14pm]: 👀
And rude.
You [10:14pm]: 😛😛😛
“Get off your phone, babe! Enjoy the night!”
“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, belatedly dropping your device in your purse and following everyone to scraping chairs and rustling clothes.
The air feels even chillier at the table, and you’re thankful for the warm metal seat this time when your bare skin makes contact. Peering out of the garage, you can see that the night is still active as ever with more and more people walking around.
Maybe poker and cool autumn weather will quell the heat swirling in your core.
Nope.
Even your card game can’t distract you from what happened. You still have the whole thing running through your mind, replaying Yoongi’s expressions and feeling more and more want build between your legs.
Under a skirt that's completely the wrong length for how it feels outside.
But you try your best to focus on having fun with all of them, especially since Dom and Tae keep eyeing each other and smirking at you whenever you try to ask what’s up.
“You know what’s up.”
“Dom!”
“Don’t act like we can’t see it.”
Hiding your smile with a cup, you break, “What!”
“Babe, you are thinking hard about something,” Dominique points out as she swishes her long white locks—a perfect Storm on your left. As she lays out cards, another comment flies out, “And I don’t like that smile you got going on.”
“Yeah, what’s that all about!” Yuri joins in, and you pout at her high pigtails while she stares at her hand, chucking her cards in the center.
Then Reia folds, too, her pretty nails extending the sleeves of her ninja getup so well. “Probably thinking about her boyfriend.”
“He’s not my—”
Four pairs of eyes instantly give you a look to just give it up already, and you flounder as they all tease you in various ways.
“Is he coming?”
“Yeah, are we finally gonna meet him?”
“Yeah, babe,” Tae repeats, resting his smug cheek on a palm. “Are we gonna meet him?”
Glaring, you respond to the pair of cards in your hand. “Not yet,” you answer honestly. “Call.”
It’s you against Taehyung, and Dom flips another card in the center.
“Hold on,” he stops. Turning to you, he bets, “If I win, we get a name.”
What?
Gawking, you try to send him every single signal in the universe telling him to take that back. The chills you get compound with the dropping temperatures, and you suddenly can’t move your fingers.
Even Dom is shocked trying to play fair. “Hey, we don’t have to force them.”
But Yuri and Reia are already all for it, siding with Tae and getting excited for the face-off.
Shit, shit, shit. Your cards are good, but you never fucking know with your opponent. Someone even more mysterious than Min Yoongi.
Fuck it. “Fine,” you blurt, watching Tae’s eyes fully enlarge in surprise.
Oh, shit, did he not expect you to call his bluff?
Fuck, what if his hand is better!
Sweating while frozen all over, you wait for Dom to flip the final card.
Damn, damn, damn. You can just make up a name, right? You can just brush it off with a pseud and call it a night.
But you know they’d be able to tell you’re lying. So you have to win this, you have to win…
That last card may have just saved your ass.
You and Taehyung give each other a look, and you can’t tell if he wants to beat you or is sad that he thinks he did. Either way, he looks stricken.
“Straight,” he claims, laying down his cards while Yuri and Reia cheer.
And you breathe, checking your hand one more time before regarding him again.
With a flourish, you reveal your cards with a boisterous, “Full house, bitches!”
Loud groans mix with Dom’s close-call hiss of an exhale, and all the slaps on the table get the attention of everyone in the garage.
And outside of it.
While you’re raking in everyone’s chips, you glance over to see Jimin and Yoongi looking in from the sidewalk, some of their friends also wondering what the hell happened.
At this, you get so shy that you don’t even acknowledge them, instead turning right back to the table and sitting down with your winnings.
When Dom gives you a look, she asks, “You good?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you stumble, rubbing the cold from your arms. “Let’s keep going.”
After another shuffle and deal of cards, you finally gain the courage to look out into the driveway.
Only to see them talking amongst their group again.
This is agonizing.
Why the fuck did Yoongi have to dress up? It’s doing things to your insides that you never would’ve guessed, and watching him be all casual while looking like sin incarnate isn’t helping.
Maybe it’s the way his hair is still so ruffled, or the way his shoulders stand so broad—which never fails to destroy you.
Or maybe it’s the way some people give him the biggest heart eyes and others rope him into pictures, knowing that you’re the one that he just texted.
Your next hand is quick to be tossed on the table, which gives you a chance to glance again.
Of course, the thought that some people here are probably ones Yoongi’s been with before awakens darker parts of you.
Like that girl that just caressed his arm.
But they aren’t as powerful as before, because you’ve been reassured a thousand times over.
He’s not like that anymore.
But as he’s pulled in for a picture with some other Barbie’s, you’re promptly reminded that he’s still not outwardly taken, either.
Which coaxes another, sadder side of you to come out of hiding, casting a shadow over a fun Halloween night.
How much longer can you take being the one in the dark?
Screw waiting to find Yoongi alone.
You’d rather be standing together.
Activities bustle about the house while the neighborhood is very much still alive.
Some kids do brave Jimin’s scary yard and, thanks to his foresight, anyone who’s near the open doorway simply tells them to grab as much candy as they want from huge plastic cauldrons—while hiding any drinkware they might be holding.
The only reason you know any of this is because you found yourself near his front door with your friends, and two tiny witches walk up to the porch with full buckets.
You and Tae are the ones to greet them, with him beaming a hi and you following up with a question,
“What’s your favorite candy?”
“Chocolate!”
“I like gummi bears.”
Ah, that might be a no-go for the second one.
Leaning forward, you rummage through one of the plastic bins. “Ooh, I know we have plenty of chocolate, but.. I don’t know if we have gummi bears out here. Tae, can you check inside?”
“Yeah! One sec.”
As he leaves, you keep searching while Reia asks them another question,
“Can we know what spells you ladies are learning?”
One of them doesn’t respond, but the other in a frilly dress fires out an answer,
“I’m learning how to turn boys into cats!”
Excellent. Wide-eyed, you wholeheartedly support their decision. “That’s the best spell to learn. Can I see?”
“Yeah!”
Just as timing has it, Taehyung is far gone.
But a wonderful replacement shows up in Jimin and Yoongi as they're spotted walking across the yard, and you quickly call them over. It seems they’re joined at the hip tonight.
“What’s up!”
“Come here real quick!”
When they oblige, you check with the parents on the sidewalk and see if you’re taking too long.
When they give you a thumbs-up, you turn back to the kids, “Alright, let’s see it!”
“Okay!”
Yoongi gives you a look, and you grin. “She’s learning a new spell.”
As soon as the girl waves her wand, she shouts, “Turn into a cat!”
Straightforward. Succinct. Admirable.
Jimin immediately lets out a gasp and holds paw hands in front of his face, which makes the little witch giggle like hell.
But what Yoongi does makes everyone react, and your jaw unhinges while something wildly potent rushes through your stomach.
The man puts fingers on his head in the shape of cat ears—something you didn’t even know he knew how to do—and in the plainest voice, lets out a low,
“Meow.”
Oh. God.
Not only does Jimin burst at the seams, but you, your friends, the little girl, and her quiet companion all start laughing.
And Yoongi’s wide grin at the child almost brings tears to your eyes.
“That’s not a cat!” she corrects while smiling, and he’s immediately affronted.
“Yes, huh!”
“No!”
“Look! I have ears!”
“No! You sound like a human!”
“You need to keep practicing that spell then!”
Delighted, the little girls burst into laughter again.
Who is this man? You feel like you know more about him than you ever hoped to, and yet… Yoongi’s still a mystery.
One beautiful, scary, amazing mystery that you will never get tired of discovering piece by piece.
When your thoughts dissipate, you notice that he’s now aiming expectant eyes your way, and your heart beats extra extra loud.
But quickly, you understand. Raising your arms above your head, you do the same ear-shape with your fingers, beaming when he looks satisfied and feeling full when the little ones try it, too.
“We’re all cats now!” you exclaim, and they shout in agreement before running down the sidewalk to continue their adventure.
You have no idea what just happened. Zero clue.
But what you do know?
You’re not letting that go. There’s no way Yoongi’s escaping that interaction and you’re gonna hang it over his silly old head forever.
“I didn’t find gummi bears but we have fruit snacks—oh, they left?”
Swiveling, you regard Tae with shock. “Wait, you really looked that whole time?”
“Ah.. Yeah. Felt bad cus, umm. All the gummies in there are definitely not for kids.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” Chuckling, you give the other two boys a grateful look. “I think they left pretty happy anyway.”
There’s one other thing you know for sure.
Seeing how Yoongi can be with children?
Any sanity you had left to give has been absolutely, positively vanquished.
Jimin’s whole cul-de-sac seems to always throw parties that people love to stay at.
An hour later, it’s still packed around the semi-circle of houses, and even you are delightfully buzzed and joining in some of the action.
But even though the alcohol is helping, you are still freezing.
Of course, there’s no way you’re letting your brother get another told-you-so in his bucket, so you endure the cold as you watch him and Shiv challenge Yoongi and Jungkook in beer pong.
To no one’s surprise, the youngest one has also chosen to not wear anything under his white suit. With clattering teeth, you refuse to believe he’s not shivering under that thing, too.
“Y’all took so long to win that one,” your brother shit talks early. “You ready?”
Kook’s brows pinch as he whines. “I thought he was good at this!”
“I am!”
As Yoongi fires off excuses to an unconvinced Jeon, you and a couple people laugh at their spat. But it’s when he claims that he’s just rusty that your sibling interjects,
“Oh, bullshit, Yoong’s lying! I do all the work when we duo!”
Ah. There they go. Eyes and mouths adorably creased to hell, “The fuck you don’t!”
“Oh, yeah? You don’t do shit!”
“Me? What the fuck happened last time!”
Gosh, there’s a lot of bodies walking through the backyard right now. You have to shift around as they pass your area, and what the fuck did someone brush your ass?
You jut your head sideways to see if anyone looks guilty, but the whole crowd just keeps moving.
Well. It wasn’t a blatant slap or anything. You definitely would’ve thrown hands if that was the case.
Their argument comes back into focus as you shiver.
“When?”
“At Hobi’s?”
“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count.”
“It does—!”
Your brother’s unannounced shot drills into the cup right in front of Yoongi’s crotch, and everyone around the table stops on a dime.
“Can we play now?” he asks, tilting his head. “It won’t take long.”
Shiv adjusts the red cap on his head, and it’s hilarious seeing him so serious in a full pokemon trainer costume. Especially when he shrugs at your opponents while they pin him with annoyance.
If you weren’t freezing, you would’ve laughed a little more. Your arms are fully caging you in at this point, and it’s hard to even rub your legs together.
More people walk through the area, and you have to shuffle backwards again to make room as they pass by.
“You look so good, Barbie!” one of the girls praises, and you compliment her matching aesthetic just as genuinely.
Your brother was right yet again.
There are plenty of pink and white outfits walking around.
Unfortunately, this combo that you decided on pulls eyes the whole night, all of which you are choosing to ignore.
There’s only one person you dressed up for today. Everyone else can take a damn hike.
Maybe this is why you’ve gravitated towards your brother and his friends instead of wandering more. Taehyung and the girls went back to playing cards, but you wanted to watch this game despite going solo.
Oh, well. There’s a whole group of you watching and you’re getting a little warmth from body heat now.
“Course it won’t take long.” Yoongi rubs a wrist, and you puff out air when he gives Shiv flack. “Not with him on your team.”
“Hey!”
The game commences, and everyone’s missing cups by the slightest mistakes. But one by one, they get set aside as shots finally start falling for Shiv and your brother, and pretty soon they’re down to the last one while Yoongi and Jungkook have a bunch.
Frankly, you don’t exactly remember how it all went down. Because all you can think about is how attractive Yoongi looks when he competes.
And watching him dip soaking fingers in water cups isn’t helping your mental in the slightest.
Fucking hell, you didn’t think this through. The price of finally getting to be around him? You can’t do much else except watch.
And your self-control has never been tested so egregiously in your life.
“Any last words?” your brother asks, his partner rolling an airy ball in his fingers.
And Yoongi takes a deliberate sip of his liquor before responding with a drone, “Yeah, hurry up.”
Smiling, you feel pity for the vampire. Because he’s about to lose whether Shiv makes this or not—which he in fact sinks with no issue.
Your brother only shrugs as people yell around the table, and you taunt Yoongi with your eyes as he turns to poke his cheek, fishing out the shot with long fingers.
Still a goddamn menace.
“I thought you were good at basketball,” Jungkook complains in a huff, roping his attention.
“I am.”
“So do something!”
“Am I holding a basketball?”
Jeon groans, but Yoongi quickly eyes Shiv with all the confidence in the world as he switches his attitude with a resigned,
“Fine.”
And he makes a quick dagger shot, too.
All of you react as mister basketball holds lazy arms out, and your sibling calms the crowd down with swipes. “Fluke! Nah, hey, that was a fluke!”
“Don’t listen to him.”
“Okay then, do it again, bitch.” Immediately, your brother hits a fast one into the same last cup, and people erupt again while Yoongi and Jungkook regard the solo with dread.
Your laugh seems to reach both their ears, because they both look at you with different faces,
“Whose side are you on!”
“You got something to say?”
“I’m not on anyone’s side,” you clarify with a smile. “You all suck.”
While Yoongi cocks a brow, your sibling calls you out with a knowing laugh, “You wanna shoot for them?”
“No, I’ll make it.”
He chortles again, and you get the strangest look from his best friend—someone that doesn’t know you’ve had plenty of experience doing this with your brother when you were both bored at home.
Is that pride? Curiosity? An intriguing mix of both?
Whatever it is, you feel wings flutter about your stomach and fight to keep your emotions internalized.
“Just lose already,” your sibling taunts. “Then we can do that thing Jimin’s talking so much shit about.”
“The haunted house?”
“Yeah, that.”
After both guys fail to make a comeback, you watch your brother and Shiv gloat as much as they possibly can.
And you’re about to move forward when another group of people blocks your way, damn near tripping as you step back.
While you’re waiting, a guy spots you and throws his arms up in recognition. “Hey! What’s up, how’ve you been!”
Huh.
Who is this man? Are you supposed to know him?
“Hi!” you call back, deciding to stay polite more than anything else.
Truly, you kinda feel bad because you have no idea who this is oh he’s going in for a hug. Okay. Strange but that’s whatever okay whoa it’s a full hug. Ah, he’s really squeezing you. Alright. Interesting.
As he lets go, you try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. Because you feel terrible for not… remembering him...
He’s already walking away.
And you feel the most uncomfortable you’ve felt in months.
Umm.
What the fuck was that? Did he know you or not?
…Did he just want a hug to feel your tits?
Motherfucker.
Your eyes find Yoongi as soon as you feel an ick, now exceedingly cold both inside and out. All this time, you’ve avoided all the stares and only smiled while politely leaving others behind.
So to feel that disrespected just because you were considerate makes you want to hurl.
But when Yoongi moves to strip off his coat, you freeze for another reason.
Because he’s watching that dude leave.
Looking pissed.
Something deep inside of you rumbles to life, and you can’t explain what it feels like wait what’s he doing now? Why’s he walking right towards you why is he—
He’s not—
What is he doing?
He’s not gonna—not in—not in front of everyone, right? Not in front of your brother, right?
Right?
…This is bold as fuck.
Your denial is so substantial that you don’t even move when he gets close, handing you incredibly warm material and looking murderous in a black tee and pants.
“Here,” he offers, voice hardened gravel. “Put it on, doll.”
Damn. No subtlety this time?
You don’t even wanna know what your brother could possibly look like right now. All you feel are several eyes watching your every move, including some that aren’t particularly friendly.
But you whisper out a quiet thank you before he shakes his head.
“I should’ve done this sooner.”
“You didn’t know.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
When you take one look at his expression, you drop any other sentences you were gonna say.
Yoongi is actually furious.
Your stomach churns up a flurry of emotions as he turns, nodding to your brother that’s looking over with Shiv.
Ah, fuck. Did all of them see that, too?
They don’t need to do anything drastic. You’re fine if just.. feeling a little violated.
Okay maybe you’d look the other way if they avenged you.
“Y’all good over there?”
“Yeah.”
Oh. Your brother didn’t see a thing.
That’s probably best for everyone involved.
“Let’s go then!” he yells, finishing his drink while Shiv puts all the cups back in place.
And Yoongi stays next to you, not caring if people give him looks. “Come on,” he mutters. “Just stay with us.”
“Okay.”
No other words are spoken as you walk out the backyard.
But when Jimin pops up with Taehyung and your friends, Yoongi pulls him aside while you ask how the poker games went.
The usual comments spring up immediately. Yuri complains about Taehyung being too good, and Dom and Reia quickly tell her she needs to work on her face.
Laughing the edge off, you see your brother checking his phone.
And just like the shadowed expression Jimin now has on his face, the hand your sibling smoothes over his head doesn’t seem like a good sign.
The haunted house was amazing, and it was a wonder you got through it in your shoes.
But you need a break after all that screaming. And you already spent a lot of time saying goodbye to your friends before they left.
So instead of joining Taehyung and his group in conversation, you keep to your own thoughts, sipping on punch while watching balloons cross kitchen tiles.
Ironically, you need anything to get through the loneliness.
Even more people latched onto Yoongi earlier. Which you should’ve seen coming after his whole ensemble was revealed.
But he had to keep them entertained because he isn’t taken. Not officially; not to them. There couldn’t be hints of him being cuffed, especially when your brother could see him at any moment.
Did you feel jealous? Upset?
To your pleasant surprise, not really.
Because unlike New Years, there’s been more history between the both of you that can never be repeated anywhere else. Ties that have woven between your bones and connections that you have no plans to sever.
You cherish them. And you’d like to think that he does, too.
All the flirting just sucked to see up close, though.
A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you jump.
“Fuck, sorry. You okay?”
As you see your brother and not another stranger, relief floods your system. And you hate how jumpy you are.
So you lie a bit. “Yeah, why?”
Hmm. He looks… out of sorts. You’re halfway into questioning the bend in his brows when he quickly asks,
“You good to go home with your friends?”
Wait, huh? That’s new. “Oh. They left but Tae’s here. You okay?”
“Something came up at work so I’m heading back.”
“The fuck? On Halloween?”
He shakes his head before running a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I dunno. But if you don’t wanna leave just have him bring you back.”
Damn. He’s not even concerned about you staying? What the hell is going on?
And thinking about things… do you wanna stay anyway?
Looking out into the house, you do a quick sweep before deciding that you’re gonna tough this night out. Taehyung’s still here, and you can hang with his circle.
You’re staying. Wishing for the best, you let him go. “K. Hope it’s all good.”
“Nah, it’s fine. I just have to clean up someon's mess.” Your sibling squeezes your shoulder in a final goodbye before stepping away. Pointing to the ground, he warns, “No one better try shit with you.”
“Go,” you usher with finality. “Text me when you’re home.”
“K.”
He heads out, and you’re left with your cup that you forgot you even had.
Staring into it, you somewhat wish you heard a familiar laugh in your ears. Throwing yourself back to that New Years night when Yoongi hung back in the kitchen just to talk.
Maybe he’s still preoccupied. Even after you gave him back his coat, ignoring his look of confusion.
After another half hour of feeling alone, with no vampire man in sight, you admit you're a little defeated.
Maybe you should have left, too.
Your purse buzzes, and you slowly fish out your phone while not looking at anything in particular.
But when you focus on your screen, your heart squeezes in double time.
Yoongi [12:43am]: Where are you?
Feeling a mix of emotions—relief, confusion, anything in between—you text back.
You [12:43am]: kitchen. but i was about to leave..
Yoongi [12:44am]: Don’t
Yoongi [12:44am]: Gimme a sec
This is it.
This is why you stayed.
Because one thing Yoongi has always proven to you is that he will make time. Whether it takes him a day, three months, or two hours.
Yoongi [12:50am]: Come up, doll
And you will wait forever.
However long it takes.
You [12:51am]: ok
It’s a short trip up the stairs from near the kitchen, and you wonder what’s gonna greet you when you get to the second level.
Are people up there? Is he just telling you to come so he could be near you? Or is this a clandestine meeting where he steals you from the night like the fiend he’s dressed as?
All of these thoughts wander about your head like specters.
But as soon as you reach the top, all you see is Yoongi, glancing up from his phone before stowing it in a coat pocket.
So unfair.
In the obnoxiously red and orange lighting, he looks even more devastating, standing like he’s been haunting your dreams for years.
And you hate how small your voice is when you greet him with a measly, “Hi..”
Very much unlike yours, Yoongi’s energy is loud. Powerful. He takes his time, consuming you with his gaze and making you feel so, so shy in heels that are somehow still on.
“Come here.”
“You sure?”
He hesitates.
And with a heavy heart, you wonder if he has the same question.
But he walks toward you instead, and you feel vulnerable. Nervous.
What’s he doing? What are either of you doing?
There’s a lot of people here still, and it’s not like they don’t know you. And they clearly know Yoongi quite fucking well.
God. You hate this uncertain, murky feeling. Because it could be solved so simply, so quickly.
But nothing in life is ever quite that easy for you, nor for him. So the paranoia lingers and lingers.
However.
When this man leads you away from the stairs, your fear spins into thrill, your nervousness taking on a new meaning.
“Yoongi…?”
With a shuffle of leather, you’re positioned right in a corner, breath catching because holy shit anyone could come up at any moment.
Why is Yoongi not nearly as concerned as you feel? Is he not jittery with nerves?
Judging by his lowered lids and unbothered line of lips, no, he is not.
As he looks around, warmth from his coat slowly swallows you on both sides. His hair cascades forward; his breath can be heard in the space between.
And you really do feel like he steals you away—from the night, the party, the world.
“Now what,” you whisper in pure nervousness. “Gonna bite me? Drink me? Suck me… Dry…”
His lips ghost along your neck, and you grant him all the access you have when he murmurs,
“Is that what you want?”
Your check for understanding is a sigh, “Want…hmm?”
“Me to suck you dry.”
You know what he means. And you’re already fighting for air as your exhale shakes. “Yes,” you admit. “Lemme do it, too.”
His dark hum rumbles your core. “Uh uh,” he rejects, one arm separating you from the rest of the room. “Only good girls can do that.”
That’s unfair. Fuck, that is really unfair.
You pant before gripping his coat in your fingers. “I’ll be good.”
“You’ll be what?” he asks, licking a small stripe along your throat and making you flinch.
“Fuck.” Your breath is harsh now. Very, very harsh. “A good girl.”
“Good.”
You feel the slightest nick of teeth as he lunges into your neck, and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep from mewling out loud.
Holy fuck, you’re already so wet.
There’s no way Yoongi can suck you dry at this point. Certainly not with the limited amount of time you have.
And the motherfucker knows it, his laugh pulsating down your spine. “So sensitive.”
“Yoongi—”
Again, he attacks, sucking hard once before running his tongue along the sting.
Thoroughly overwhelmed, you dissolve into mush. Your legs buckle under the pleasure, sparks of desire firing along your limbs as your ankles work double to keep you upright. “Baby...”
“You taste so fucking good.”
More. You need more and you need it now. “I wanna—”
Without warning, his lips finally find yours, arms fully encasing you in leather as he slams both hands on the wall.
“Yoo—”
And your heart leaps into the kiss while your fingers zip right to his face, tugging him in until your noses smush.
For someone with a million concerns before, you’re devouring him without any shits given and it’s magnetic. Electric. Magic. Sparks zip down your skin, pebbling your nipples and sending your toes in curls.
Hints of whisky and smoke pepper your tongue, and you know your breath proved similar if just a bit more reserved.
But you can tell something’s off.
He’s holding back.
Why? Why are his hands still firmly on the wall? Why is he keeping his distance even though you’re standing right here?
If you’ve been fiending to touch him the whole night, he had to be feeling the same way.
So what’s with the sudden hesitation?
Your body thrums with need, yearning for those large palms to roam and venture across every inch. Aching for him to erase that stupid hug from earlier in a way only he can.
“Baby,” you whisper. “Please.”
“Please what.”
“I need you.”
“I’m right here.”
“No, I”—you grip one of his wrists—“Please touch me.”
“In here?” He pauses, pinning you with concern. “You sure?”
Swallowing, you take in the music and conversations downstairs, hearing laughs and other exclamations.
Were they always that loud?
“I’m doing this for your own good, doll.”
Heart stuttering hard, you question, “Why?”
Yoongi only lets out a huff. “Cus…” Leaned in fully, his hot breath fans your face, all of his dark syllables drenching you in hellfire,
“If I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.”
“Fuck,” you rush out, breathing so hard your chest billows out. “I want that.”
“You don’t.”
Fuck yes, you do. You aren’t letting another chance pass by. You’re feasting on him whether it’s for two seconds or one thousand, and he’s gonna do the same to you.
Because as much as he’s holding back, you can tell he wants nothing but to tear you apart. A monster in the red lights strung around the game room.
And you’ll let him.
Consequences be damned.
“I do,” you finally admit with a whoosh. “I don’t give a shit right now, Yoongi, just do it—”
Any other words are snatched from your mouth as you’re pinned against the wall, your reward in the form of rough skin and thick leather sliding all along your sides.
Immediately, the coil in your belly rumbles to life, tightening click by thrilling click as you tug him in even closer.
Between kisses, you grit out how stupidly attractive he looks, and his chuckles are so dark that you feel them shake your core.
“Thought I was boring.”
Another groan into his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“Say sorry then.”
It’s your turn to giggle, “And if I don’t?”
Fingers ghost along your throat before they squeeze in warning. “Try it.”
Attempting a whine, you press your shoulders back into the wall, fingers still clinging to his dark shirt. “I kinda… I kinda want to.”
“I know you do.” He shoves one of your legs away with a strong thigh, pushing his weight forward and accusing, “Wanna be a brat so bad, huh.”
Desire is doing wonders for your confidence. You’re not gone, but you’re influenced enough to let your thoughts flow.
All you needed was the last hit of this man’s magnetism. “Wanna be a lot of things for you..”
Amusement rumbles out like thunder. “Like what.”
Giggling, you admit, “I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”
“I know.” He kisses you in a way that has you swooning. “I could get used to this.”
“This wouldn’t get old?”
“Fuck no.” His hands move straight to your ass. “Not if it’s you.”
Confused, you pout in a whine. “You said it was basic.”
“It is.” He goes right for your neck for another feast. “And it’s fuckin’ hot.”
He then nips your skin in earnest, tugging his name out of your throat and causing you to claw into his hair.
“That guy just wanted to feel me,” you suddenly sigh, hating how you’re still thinking about it even now.
“I know.” Yoongi stops before watching your eyes. With a finger on your chin, he checks, “You okay?”
“Just make me forget it.”
He keeps his gaze on you for a moment more, forehead pressing against yours before he vows, “You will. He won’t.”
And your lips are fully captured before you can respond.
You missed this. You missed this so fucking bad and you’re pretty sure you’re saying everything out loud but you don’t mind. Yoongi deserves to hear it and you are gonna live this out to the fullest.
If he doesn’t hear you, he certainly feels you. In the way you rake at his hair, tug at his chest, sling your arms around his beautiful neck.
But your frantic actions are stopped when he growls,
“Fuck, you shouldn’t’ve come up here.”
“Wait, why—”
“Cus now I’m—Fuck it, come on.”
Before your mind catches up, your body is being rushed into the nearest door: a guest room that’s surprisingly not occupied.
“Yoongi, what—”
He holds a finger on his lips before peeking through the door, and he shuts it with a click when he seems convinced.
And you’re even more alone with the demon of your dreams—now shrouded in bright white from the string lights in this space.
You have no choice but to submit to his hands, stomach flipping as he seizes your lips with newfound energy. When you respond in kind, he backs you up until your legs hit the guest bed, setting off another alarm in your fizzing brain.
“Baby, you sure?”
“I won’t do much.” Yoongi lowers you down, steadying himself on an elbow. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” His gaze is steady on yours. “Nervous, though.”
Because it’s true. Even if your brother isn’t in the house, there’s a high possibility one of his friends walks through that door. One of Yoongi’s friends, even.
“We don’t have to, doll.”
And if you’re honest…
The thrill of it is enticing.
“We can.”
“I got us,” he assures with a kiss, now grinning like mad. “Lemme live this out just once.”
A bit shy, you bite your lip to combat your nerves. And the million butterflies raging in your ribcage. “And what would that be.”
“Not telling.”
Of course. “You suck.”
Puffs of mirth leave his mouth before he consumes you, and you feel unbelievably scandalous and loving every second.
Because you saw Yoongi leave the door unlocked. There’s no recovering if someone opens it without you both hearing them, because the closet is opposite from the bed. You will absolutely not get there in time.
Be it the holiday itself, or the fact that Yoongi’s positively enjoying himself, you feel more enthralled by the danger than you’ve ever been.
And the fluttering in your chest triples when he lifts your tee. “Baby—!”
“Chill, love,” he laughs, a glint in his eye as he kisses your bra. “Never done this before?”
“No, but—fuck.”
Your soft moan stems from him slipping your bra down, licking at your chest and groaning at your scent.
“God, you’re so perfect.”
Fervently disagreeing, you reply so lightly, “Not at all.”
“You are.” Another kiss to your lips before he moves down to your throat, squeezing one of your breasts with purpose. His weight feels heavenly on your torso, which you label the most ironic given how sinful he looks. “Couldn’t fucking wait to get you alone.”
Fucking hell, do you feel the same. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d even get the chance. As you arch into his chest, your bare skin heats under his mountain of dark clothes. “Wanted to be with you all night…”
“Same.” The next kiss proves deep, and he slides a hand under your head to claim as much of you as he can. His lips leave yours with a pop before he grips you with conviction. “Fuck, you should’ve been.”
Oh.
You know why he’s holding you so hard.
And it touches the deepest, softest parts of your soul.
Gently holding his taut wrist, you whisper, “It’s okay, baby.”
His eyes stay closed, blocking you from hearing anything that he could be thinking.
But it’s your turn to lift his chin with a finger, and you reassure him with everything you have,
“Nothing happened. Don’t worry, okay?”
Yoongi still doesn’t answer, which makes you sad. One dude shouldn’t ruin both of your moods hours after the fact. He can eat shit and Yoongi deserves to be the one enjoying a perfect night.
So you vow to make that reality.
“Besides,” you continue, waiting until he finally looks at you. When he does, you slyly smooth both hands over your breasts, pushing them together right in front of his face. “These are yours, right?”
Like a switch abruptly flipped, Yoongi’s whole demeanor changes on a dime.
Hungry eyes rake over your chest before he plants a kiss on your fingers before anything else. “What else is mine.”
Your cunt quakes at the question, making you drag one of his hands down to the side of your ass. “This,” you whisper, biting back glee as he grabs right at it.
His mouth hovers over yours now, voice so low it sounds more like distant thunder, “What else, doll.”
And whatever made you so bold washes away in an instant. Because you know what you wanna say but it’s the hardest one to let fly.
Of course, Yoongi knows this. It’s the only reason he’s being so cheeky about it now. “That it?” he asks with a lilt. “You sure?”
Gnawing your lip, you shake your head, garnering more and more courage to tell him one last answer.
“Don’t be shy,” he orders through a wicked grin. “Tell me.”
Just say it. All you have to do is whip it out of your mouth and you can get on with it—
A bunch of voices start getting louder and louder from outside the door, and Yoongi reacts before you can process what to do.
Tee shoved back on and skirt rumpled to hell, you’re quickly rushed to the closet, thankful that Jimin’s house is fucking enormous and gives every bedroom double-doored enclosures for clothes.
Conversation gets even closer. Someone is definitely coming in holy shit shit shit.
Adrenaline courses through your veins as you settle on a sidewall, and the fact that there’s enough room for you to stand sideways is enough to distract your harrowing thoughts.
But Yoongi shuts the doors with practiced ease, dousing the space in darkness with only small strips of light to illuminate.
So fucking unfair.
Just him peeking through the crack in the doors makes you suffer, chains dangling from his chest and the mischievous glint in his eyes giving you pain.
Why does his side profile have to be so perfect? Why is this bad boy adjacent version of him enough to send you into orbit?
Suddenly, two voices burst into the room.
And you recognize both of them.
“—like you said, right?”
“I know, but…”
It’s Tae.
And Jimin.
“Then hey,” you hear your friend say with hope. “It’s okay.”
The coincidence of those words in that room does not get past you.
“You really think so?”
There’s a bit of silence before Taehyung responds, but you suddenly get distracted by someone much, much closer.
Because Yoongi’s slowly roaming a finger along the hem of your skirt, hooking it in and slowly tugging you forward what the fuck!
When your wide eyes meet his, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying this. And you have to clamp your mouth shut when he casually starts feeling over your shirt.
What the fuck is he doing!
This man is going to be the end of you.
“So yes. Let’s go back down, yeah?”
“Okay… Just give me a moment.”
Delirium. You’re approaching delirium as Yoongi now watches you suffer, and you buckle when he travels under your tee—up, and up, and impishly ducking his thumb under your bra.
And you almost can’t deal with the feeling.
Because your senses are upped to the highest setting, body on full alert and having to keep quiet when at his mercy.
You feel legitimately wild, mad, drunk off Yoongi’s presence alone. There are literally people on the other side of thin wood and he’s driving you up every closet wall in the house.
Out of your mind, you aim for his neck when you launch your own silent ambush.
And it’s his turn to suffer when you grab at his chains, because you tug him enough to get access to his neck as soon as you hear your friend again.
“Even this room looks nice and it's unused. Seriously, you did a good job.”
“Most of it was your idea.”
“Me? I only suggested it because I knew you could do it.”
Yoongi’s breath puffs over your shoulder, and he buries his head in your tee while you lick and suck him with a vengeance. His hands grapple your hips, taking no time in circling back over your ass.
“Thanks. Okay, I’m ready.”
“Finally. It was getting boring in here.”
A laugh tinkers out before Jimin hums in confusion.
“Weird. Thought I told people to not touch this bed.”
“You just sat on it.”
“I didn’t sit on that side.”
Taehyung responds right as you grope Yoongi’s crotch, and his body locks so hard you flinch at his grip.
“It’s probably nothing. The bed’s still made.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
Mercifully, the guest door opens again before shutting, and you’re left in the weighty silence and faint bass of music coming from downstairs.
Adrenaline still at its peak.
“You’re gonna pay for that.”
“Says you,” you pant, mewling when his lips latch onto your neck for the umpteenth time. “What do we do now?”
After another suck, Yoongi lifts his head. “With what?”
“This,” you clarify, gesturing to the closet space. “We have to leave, right?”
“Do you want to?”
You pause.
If you leave now, you can sneak out of the room and no one will ever know you spent seven minutes in heaven with Min Yoongi.
But if you stay…
“Not really,” you whisper in admittance. “You?”
“Fuck no.”
Your giggles end up in his mouth when he claims you, and you grab at his chains in earnest, tugging him closer before raking impatient fingers through his ruffled locks.
And you’re already fine with this situation. Making out with this man in a closet? Who would’ve thought you would have this opportunity in the history of ever?
So when you feel wandering fingers between your legs, your reaction comes out a high mewl. “Wait—What are you—”
“Careful, doll,” Yoongi quells. “Gotta keep that mouth shut, yeah?”
You nod before realizing he probably can’t see, so you whisper an affirmative before slamming your lips shut.
Because one touch of his fingers on your covered slit has you already losing it.
A manicured hand slaps over your mouth as you widen your legs, gripping his coat with the other as he surrounds you mentally and physically. All you can think about is the way he’s calmly shifting your panties, expertly sliding over your cunt and chuckling right in your ear.
“You’ve been this wet this whole time?”
Gasping, you hum out a yes, and Yoongi laughs the scariest you've ever heard him,
“Nah, we’re fucking in here.”
Holy fuck, what?
“Baby,” you plead in his ear, wanting him in every way possible but knowing you don’t have a condom. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“We don’t have—”
“Yeah, we do.” When he senses your confusion, he peeks out the closet door before... leaving.
What the fuck! What is he doing why is he going for a casual stroll with a boner right now?
Oh, he’s back already. But you’re still holding your heart with a goddamn fist.
When Yoongi holds one up, he laughs. “I actually didn’t know if he had some up here, by the way.”
“Sure you didn’t.”
He smirks before pocketing the package, grabbing your face and kissing all the lingering fright from your features. His tongue slides all along yours before he sucks, and his teeth drag over your plush when he lets go. “You down?”
Drunk off his continuously great make-out sessions, you slur out, “Hmm?”
“We don’t have to.”
Your smile is automatic. Knowing Yoongi’s still asking even though he was dead set on it makes giving him the go-ahead even easier.
But you both hear another smatter of activity in the game room outside. And it seems like people are starting to use the pool table.
Fuck.
Do you really go for it?
You’re gonna have to be silent as the grave if you do, because this will be the most sordid position you can be found in.
…Fuck it. Screw it. It’s Halloween and you’re dancing with the devil.
“Yes we do,” you scoff. “But if you break my heels we’re gonna fight.”
His quiet bout of laughs makes you melt, and his fingers feel positively intoxicating when they find your cunt again.
Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft bump as you arch, back to sewing your mouth closed and smushing your head in his clothes. His name slips out on your breaths, and his growls make you quiver with more and more impatience,
“So fucking wet.”
Fuck.
“Gonna take this dick so well.”
Nope. You can’t wait anymore. You don’t care who the fuck is out there, you’re folding and folding fast.
“Please, baby,” you pant. “I need you. Now.”
Yoongi obliges immediately, spinning you around and pinning your front against the wall.
Well, you think he’s on the same page.
Until he clamps a hand over your mouth before fingering you from behind holy fuck you might come any moment now.
Your hands slide into fists on the wall as you moan in his fingers, shoving your ass back to glean as much delicious friction as you can.
“There you go,” Yoongi praises. “Just like that.”
You’re gonna come. You’re already gonna come and he’s hitting every fucking spot to speed up the process. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly he can launch you off the edge, but you suspect this time has something to do with the thrill of your whole situation.
You feel bad.
And it feels fantastic.
“Babe,” you whisper, turning your head. “I’m already close.”
When you clasp a hand around his wrist, he finally finally finally grants you into heaven’s gates. You feel him let up, and you wait with tiny shakes as he rips the condom pack open with ease. The clink of his belt tickles your ears just right, and you quickly think about other dark things.
After a moment and more clothes shuffling, you feel his hands slide along your hiked up skirt before gripping your ass, never failing to worship your body and making you feel fucking pretty.
When he leans forward, his warm shirt and chilly chains on your bare skin alone push you even further. “Hands over that mouth, doll,” he rasps in your ear. “Can’t be loud for me this time.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Good girl.”
As soon as you do what you’re told, you regret not pressing down harder.
Because Yoongi plunges into you so smoothly that your moan almost flows right out of your fingers.
Holy shit you really were that wet. But he's still so big. So, so big, and filling you too well fuck are you being too loud because it feels so fucking—
“Thought you were just gonna dip without saying bye?”
Oh, fuck.
Yoongi did not wait until he was inside of you to say that.
“Think you’d just show up looking cute and talk some shit, huh.”
Damn it. He did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s a demon and you have nowhere to run now.
Delightfully frightened, you shake your head in denial. Repeatedly and full of terror.
“Show me up then.”
He stops all his movements, and you’re left to your own devices. Stranded on his dick with only the wall and your heels to support you.
Oh, he’s a killer.
And he’s all yours.
Thrusting back, you start slow, groaning into your hand at how large he is. It’s a wonder you can even move, and your jaw unhinges when you feel his dick hit a certain spot just right.
Again, and again, you fuck him as deep as you can take, slamming your ass into his pelvis and finding pride in the divots he’s sinking into your cheeks.
Yoongi’s still unhelpful, but you can tell he’s breaking. His grip is getting harder, his minuscule groans lower and more forced. Even the tiniest curse makes you preen, and you throw a look over your shoulder to hear him better.
Which is the worst best thing to do.
“Fuck, doll.”
With quickness, he rams himself into you, a sweaty hand clasping right over yours just as you yelp.
“We aren’t finished with that,” he promises through gritted teeth, and he takes over before you can process what that means.
And his pace is relentless, pumping into you so well that every thrust catapults you across space and time.
You’re outright panting now, feeling him deep in your guts and the strong lines of his forearm pressed into your chest.
“Breathe in for me.”
And you do, feeling his hand close around your throat while fingers lodge themselves inside your mouth.
Fuck!
Your eyes roll so far back you can probably see him if you had light, and you’re mercifully let go before you need to gasp for oxygen.
“Again.”
When you obey, Yoongi chokes you again, and you’re finding it euphoric as he clasps your column even harder. Every time he does, you clench around his cock, and a warm feeling washes over you every time he lets go.
“How’s that feel, baby girl,” he asks, humming in approval when you drag a reply out,
“So good.”
“Good.” He kisses your sweaty cheek before easily admitting, “I like it, too.”
Stilling, you turn as far as you can to regard him, asking in the tiniest voice, “You do?”
He darts his eyes to your lips before nodding. “You can try it next time.”
You smile, not knowing why you feel shy in this position of all things. But maybe you’re just happy that he said that. Because he didn’t need to admit something so intimate in the moment.
“We’ll do whatever you want,” you vow in a murmur, closing your eyes when he captures your lips.
After sliding a tender hand down your cheek, he whispers, “Turn around.”
You immediately do, untwisting your back and relieving the tension in your neck. When you slowly move to face Yoongi again, he steadies you the whole way.
And as soon as you’re settled, he kisses you so hard you fall back against the wall again.
Hands come up to shove your tee upward and unhook your bra, and he gropes at your chest before ducking to take a nipple in his hot mouth.
Surging with pulses, you bury your face to muffle your moans, squeezing your eyes shut from pure ecstasy.
How the fuck are you doing this? With him? If you travelled back in time to tell yourself that this was gonna happen at a party someday, you would’ve been told to piss off.
“Love these tits,” Yoongi grits. “Fuck.”
“I didn’t wanna wear a bra.”
He immediately chuckles. Darkness and sin brushing your chest. “I would’ve left.”
You hum in mirth, knowing exactly what he means by that. As much as you wanted to tease him, you know that decision would’ve immediately gotten him in trouble.
And definitely other people, too.
But the more he keeps licking and sucking, the more you feel it coming. Release. The inferno. It’s on the horizon and you’re just awaiting the crash of relentless deluge.
“There you go,” he rumbles. “You gonna come?”
You pant out before nodding, every muscle thrumming like hell.
And he orders low in your ear, yanking your orgasm right out of your very center,
“Then come for me, doll.”
Your body wracks with jolts, stabs of lightning hitting every limb and locking them at hard angles. A rush of pleasure surges through, filling the closet with a heady scent that makes Yoongi groan pride into your neck.
“Uh huh,” he praises. “Still wanna talk shit?”
And you do. Tears leak from your eyes as you nod, orgasm riding farther than ever, waves unending and your mental shore nowhere in sight.
“Course you do.” Yoongi claims your mouth. “Fuckin’ love it.”
Still, you feel pulled, lost to the universe that’s him and him alone, and you want to reciprocate the same pleasure that he’s providing.
“Baby, I’m still—”
“Fuck—”
You don’t know what comes over your brain, or your body, or whatever else runs on autopilot. But you use the rest of your strength to shove him back, pushing him until he hits the other wall of the closet.
“D—”
You rush out a question before lowering yourself, “Did you come?”
“No, but—”
“Take it off.”
Stunned, Yoongi rushed to unsheath the wrapper, rubbing himself before you take control.
Nothing will stop you at this point. Anyone could come in and you’d still be pleasuring Yoongi until he breaks.
Because you want this. He’s earned this.
Your knees hit the ground right as you take him in your mouth, tasting the strange mix of salt and latex but knowing it won’t be for long.
This is what you’ve been wanting to do since he gave you his goddamn coat, and your imagination has been so vastly outdone by reality that you feel like none of it’s truly happening.
When you flick your eyes upward, you get another thing you’ve been yearning for.
Yoongi is fighting for his life.
You can barely see that his eyes are squeezed tight, and you catch a tiny glimpse of his mouth agape before he bites it shut. When you suck in hard, his whole body flinches, and for the first time that night, he’s the one with a hand over his mouth.
And you feel so fucking elated that you welcome the hot strings of cum painting your mouth, groaning around him and giggling when his essence slips right down your throat.
He’s promising dark and wonderful things above your head, and you feel him grip your chin as soon as you pop off of his dick.
“Open that mouth.”
You show him, hoping he can tell in the dim light that there’s no drop left on your tongue.
“Goddamn.”
You’re tugged up before your mouth is smothered by his, and you teeter on your heels for balance as he whips you back against a solid surface.
It looks like he wants to say something.
But nothing comes out as he clenches a fist next to your head.
As you both calm, only your breaths fill the closet, your scents of passion clinging onto coats and jackets, all of which you could’ve worn in place of the one he gave you.
But Yoongi did something so bold tonight that it was only natural for you to want to take the same risk.
As he kisses you slow, you respond in kind, rolling your lips with his and enjoying coming down from this high with him every time.
Shouts and yells from the game outside pierce into the closet, but both of you exist in your own little world. With you tracing the lines of his shirt and him gently straightening your clothes.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“For what, doll,” he asks in return.
“Making me yours.” When you slightly pull on his jacket, you hope he gets what you mean. “Even if no one else knows.”
His tiny peck on your cheek is genuine and, if you aren’t mistaken, a little prideful. “They’re going to, doll,” he vows into your skin. “I told you, you're gonna get tired of me.”
"Lies," you sigh in peace. “So I get Halloween pictures with you next time, too?”
Yoongi freezes, standing straight before fishing out his phone.
And you fuss up a quiet storm before he lets you fix yourself, smiling at his camera as he squishes his sweaty, satisfied as fuck face right next to yours.
If anyone ever comes across those pictures on his phone, you will never ever tell them the context. They'll never know why your makeup looks like that, or why his hair is even more haphazard, or why you both look way too happy to be in a closet.
Even if they frightened you to death.
Some time later—and after a stressful time sneaking out with a smug Yoongi in tow—you find yourself downstairs and heading out the door with Taehyung.
After he asks where you were, you simply tell him the truth: you were with Yoongi. And end it at that.
With one look at your neck, he hums in amusement.
And you immediately slap a hand over it in shock, embarrassed to hell when he laughs.
But you let Tae tease you all the way home, knowing that you also caught a small glimpse of his life with Jimin. Not that you’ll tell him that until months from now.
When your phone buzzes, you immediately check what awaits you.
And you dissolve into mush yet again.
Yoongi [2:45am]: Text me when you’re home
You [2:45am]: but im not going to your place :((
What is home, if not where you feel the most at peace? Where you feel like you can be yourself and not worry about sneaking around? Where you know someone will protect you and be that person you can go to without any questions asked?
Yoongi [2:47am]: Next Halloween you will be
It’s definitely with Yoongi.
Right now, you know your home is with him.
Smiling, you type another text, full of contentment and looking towards the day all of this can be lived the way you both want.
You [2:47am]: turn into a cat
Yoongi [2:47am]: 😒
Taehyung looks at you when you laugh, and his grin grows when he can tell you’re genuinely happy.
And when Yoongi actually sends you a selfie matching the ear gesture he did earlier, you feel the endearing prick of hot tears in your eyes.
Yoongi [2:49am]: 1 Attachment
He has a distinct matching mark on his neck.
And you are one thousand percent sure he took the picture knowing it's visible.
Yoongi [2:50am]: Meow :)
Happy Halloween indeed.
—
—
—
end :)
—
🍊ahhh what do we think !!🍊| join the taglist!
a/n: thank you all for reading! i know this is super super late to post but i wanted it to be decent for y'all before letting it free. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.
a/n 2: to any men reading this series, let me tell you.. that hug situation happened to me and some people i know and it suuuucks :(( ladies - and guys, anyone really - if you've had that happen to you i am sending you the biggest genuine hugs and a 3tan yoongi to make it better. and if it hasn't happened to you, then good.
++feedback box:
⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated!
⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think!
⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like!
⇥ here!
++
more links:
⇥ masterlist
⇥ three tangerines masterlist
#BOO!! :)) happy halloween!#bts imagines#bts reactions#bts fic#bts fanfic#yoongi fic#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#yoongi smut#yoongi x you#yoongi x reader#*ryenfictalk#ryenwrites#three tangerines#3tan#3tanoween#*latest#bts smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Slow Down, Cowboy (Part 1)
Pairing: Billy the Kid (Tom Blyth) x reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: None. This will probably be the first part of a three or four part series. Establishing the pairing. More fluff to come!
Synopsis: Reader is a server/bar keeper at the local saloon. Billy and the guys come for a drink after a long day of horse stealing and cattle rustling. It doesn’t take much for Billy and reader to take an interest in each other.
A/N: So, no surprise I’m on the Tom Blyth train after watching TBOSAS. I needed more so naturally I watched Season 1 of Billy the Kid and let me tell you, I was not disappointed. He is SO FINE in this series!! Kicking my feet and twirling my hair fr. Also a very good series!! Please watch if you love Tom and love a good story. This was born out of disappointment from the lack of writing on Tom’s Billy on this app as well as a craving for more Tom 😅 Enjoy!!
Part 2: Here
Part 1: A Sight for Sore Eyes
The saloon was already hustlin’ and bustlin’ on a Friday evening. The cacophony of chatter, laughter, and glasses clinking, only to be amplified by the 5 or so pairs of cowboy boots you heard stomping into the saloon, accompanied by the incessant ringing of the bell above the entryway door. The scuffed boots belonged to a group of rowdy cowboys coming in for a drink, or three, after a long day of horse thievin’ and cattle rustlin’, no doubt. You eyed up each one of them, noting their greasy hair underneath tattered hats, dirt caked around and under their fingernails, and revolvers strapped to their hips for easy access. You had been around town long enough to know that these guys were up to no good during the day, but that was none of your business. A paying customer was a paying customer, no matter how they got their money.
You carried on serving customers who were already at the bar until you heard the bell above the door ring again, signaling the entrance of another patron. Normally you wouldn’t give that sound a second thought, but something compelled you to glance up in the direction of the noise.
The saloon was small, so there wasn’t much distance between you, working behind the counter, and the door. You were surprised to be met with striking blue eyes underneath curly brown hair and a dark brown top hat. He was tall. Lean. Young. Very handsome. You had not seen him before… at least not in person. Wanted posters with his face and a handsome reward for his capture were plastered all over every county east and west of Lincoln. None other than the infamous Billy the Kid had just stepped through your saloon doors, reputation preceding miles before him.
Despite what you had heard about him, you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on him as you memorized his appearance. You noticed his eyes sparkle as they met yours. Perhaps it was from the lights hanging overhead, you thought. He stopped as the door slammed to a close behind him. Without breaking eye contact, he removed his hat and held it to his chest, giving you a polite nod and a slight smile, acknowledging your innocent exchange. He then wandered off to find the loud group of men that had entered the saloon moments before him.
So, Billy the Kid was riding around town with these guys. You knew to keep your distance from guys like that in your personal life, but at work, money was money. The group of guys came up to the bar, eyeing you up and down before placing their drink orders. They weren’t original; Whistles and cat calls accompanied by orders for straight vodka or whiskey for the lot. You handed out drinks with a smile, graciously accepting their tips. Then, they were on their way, hootin’ and hollerin’ over to a table in the corner to drink until they got dizzy, celebrating their accomplishments of the day. All that was left behind was Billy.
“How can I help you today, sir?” You asked him, quickly realizing he was a man of few words. He had not made a single comment like his buddies had when they approached the counter.
Billy had put his hat back on shortly after entering the saloon, but he took it off again as soon as you addressed him, making eye contact. A sign of respect.
“Hi there. Whiskey, please.” His slight southern drawl was charming, you had to admit. But it seemed newly acquired. He wasn’t from here originally. You didn’t know much about him aside from the daily town gossip, but something told you he was different. Misunderstood, maybe.
You nodded your head and smiled. “One whiskey, comin’ right up.” You set a glass down in front of him and poured the amber liquid into it. He picked the glass up and drank it down in one gulp. Must have been a hard day, you thought to yourself.
He tapped the rim of the glass with his index finger a couple of times before meeting your gaze again. “Another, please, ma’am,” he asked softly. You obliged and poured him another. This time he decided to sip instead of down it in under three seconds.
“You got it. Holler if you need anythin’ else. Okay, darlin’?” He nodded and dropped his gaze down to the glass in front of him. Perhaps it was the warmth of the alcohol, but you could have sworn you saw a blush creep up on his cheeks. You smiled to yourself once your back was turned.
The night went on as you carried on taking care of the patrons at your bar, drinking themselves to sleep or until their buddies helped them stumble home. You and Billy stole glances and sweet smiles throughout the whole night. Eventually, the saloon cleared out leaving only you and Billy, who had joined his friends at their table shortly after getting his third whiskey from you. As you were wiping down the bar counter and cleaning glasses to start closing up, you watched Billy talk to his group of cowboys. They seemed to be egging him on to do something, but he kept shaking his head and laughing, declining politely. Eventually they got the message, clapping him on the shoulder and exiting the saloon, claiming they would see him back at camp.
You kept your head down as you continued to polish glasses and silverware, ears perking up at the sound of his boots scraping the hardwood floor in your direction. Billy gently set the glass on the counter in front of you with a thud before resting his elbows on it, leaning in your direction. You looked up at him through your lashes. “Not headin’ out with your buddies?”
Billy shook his head, noticing your clean nails and the absence of a wedding ring. “No, ma’am. I don’t partake in their late night activities,” Billy told you in a soft voice. You wondered what activity he was referring to. It could be one of two things: drinking, or women. Since they already had the drinking part taken care of, there was only one other thing it could be. You weren’t sure why, but learning this about him made you feel happy. Relieved, almost.
You placed the glass you were cleaning back on the shelf underneath the bar and threw the rag you were using over your shoulder. With a hand on your hip, you asked, “well, in that case, is there anything else I can get you this evening, cowboy? We are closing right about now.” You waited for him to answer, taking the opportunity to appreciate how well his plaid dress shirt fit him, the top two buttons now open to reveal a new patch of skin you had not seen upon his arrival. You pulled your eyes away when you realized you had been staring a second too long.
“No more drinks for me, ma’am. Thank you, though. There was one other thing I was hoping to get from you, if you don’t mind me asking.” You leaned forward yourself, really meeting his eyes this time. With him leaning across the bar like that, he was the closest he had been all night. The bright blue of his eyes couldn’t even get lost in the dim light of the saloon. You hated how your breath caught in your throat when you realized how close you two actually were.
You cleared your throat and took a second to steady yourself before asking with a playful smile on your lips, “and what might that be?” Billy smiled in return, dropping his eyes to his hands before returning them to you again. “I was hoping I might learn the name of the beautiful woman serving me drinks tonight. So I know who to ask for when I come back tomorrow.” There it was, that smile again, that threatened to leave you speechless. Honestly, you were pleasantly surprised by his manners, especially for a man so young and to be riding around with gunslingers all day. You had heard he was dangerous, but you seemed to have forgotten that. Although you were nervous to be alone with him, you also felt safe. Safe enough to share your name with him.
“Y/N,” you told him with a smile and a nod. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise, miss Y/N. My name is William but folks call me Billy. I sure do hope I’ll be seein’ you again real soon.” His voice was smooth, like it was dripping in honey. His charm was effortless and completely disarmed you. Those goddamn cowboys.
“Well, I’m here pretty much 24/7 so, drop in whenever you like. Now I know who to look out for.” You smiled at him again, holding his gaze for a second. He nodded and made his way to the door, stopping to turn around and look at you one last time before exiting the saloon. He tipped his hat to you as he said, “you sure are a sight for sore eyes. You have a good night now,” and was whisked away by the evening breeze.
You stared at the door where he stood just moments before, simultaneously smiling to yourself like an idiot and cursing yourself for being so smitten by a cowboy upon the first interaction. He left you breathless and with only one thought:
In a world of boys he’s a gentleman.
#billy the kid x reader#billy the kid#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth#billy the kid fanfiction#Tom Blyth fluff#fluff#Tom Blyth fanfiction#billy the kid fluff
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
why-cant-turtles-dance
It's a genuine question
sambal40
older man
chaos-company
chaos company: Angstpril 2024
thebulkingbear
BulkingBear
veryobsessivefan
i'll follow you until you love me