dipped teabag

Middle of the Night — Yugyeom

Originally posted by blondetuan

A/N: admin japchae back with another smut, this time with a yugyeom smut. I’ve been in a very yugyeom mood so this imagine became a thing. tbh I am super proud of this, and I hope you guys enjoy it bc it is a RIDE

Word Count: 3,585 words
Content: kitchen counter sex, a little bit of dom!yugyeom, noona kink, a bit of orgasm denial, some fluff

Yugyeom knows you wake up at 2 AM every night to make yourself a cup of tea. He always wakes up to the sound of your footsteps and listens as you make your way to the kitchen. He has always been so sensitive to your presence ever since Jackson let you stay at the dorm until your new apartment gets set up. All the other members adapted to you quickly—treating you like a sister—but Yugyeom can never find a way to get used to you.

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In Good Company

Cas x Reader

Word Count: 959

Warnings: slight mention of violence, implied depression/fear of sleeping, light fluffiness.

**Sorry for the cheesiness. This is what happens when I write late at night. Enjoy.

You stared up at your ceiling, the orange light from your alarm clock giving the room an eerie glow. 3:38AM. Wonderful. It looked like you were in for another sleepless night. This would be the third one this week, and it was Thursday. But sleep was for the weak, right?

You slowly sat up and slipped your legs over the side of your bed, letting them hang there for a minute. That last case really got to you. Vampires recruiting children, or anything involving children, was a big no-no in your repertoire. You couldn’t help but hurt for them. Even though they would be okay, you couldn’t help but think about the mental scars and years of therapy they would need. Especially now that they know the monsters they had nightmares about were very real and around every corner.

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Shorter

Bellamy Blake

‘Oh come off it, Bell,’ you whined, holding a stich in your side as your best friend turned to face you, his eyes glinting in amusement.
      You’d decided to accompany him on his hunting trip, the nervous energy around camp was beginning to wear on you; there was also the fact that you couldn’t stand another evening of listening to Warren’s lot barking orders about taking the data collectors off your wrist. Bellamy knew exactly why you were going with him, and you’d told him this (‘There’s not a chance in hell, Bellamy Blake, that I’m skinning anything for you!’ you’d told him shrilly before you’d even left the edge of camp).
      ‘What?’ Bellamy asked, his voice ringing with a mock innocence that made you roll your eyes. ‘It’s just up this hill.’ He pointed his thumb over his shoulder at a large mound that looked suspiciously like a mountain.
       You groaned, but Bellamy winked at you before starting up off the hill again.
      With a wistful glance back at the steady slope behind you, you sighed before following Bellamy.
      The rest of the trek passed by in reasonable silence, though not because Bellamy wasn’t trying, it was due to the fact that you couldn’t get a word out through panting. But, when you eventually reached the top of the hill the trees had cleared slightly and you slumped down onto a rock as Bellamy scouted out the area for threats.
       ‘Hey, (Y/n) come see this!’ he said excitedly.
       You groaned before wandering slowly towards him, wiping the back of your hand across your sweat covered forehead.
      But, all you saw was a wall that was taller than you, even if you stood on the small stump near the bottom of it that Bellamy was using.
       ‘Is this a joke?’ you asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow at him.
       An evil smirk slipped quickly onto Bellamy’s face as he jumped off the stump. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes taking in your height.
       ‘Aw,’ he said in a mock baby voice, his eyes glinting, ‘is there a big wall in the way of the pretty scene?’
       ‘Shut up, Bellamy,’ you spat, shifting to stand on the stump. But you were still a few inches too short.
       Bellamy scoffed, and you shot him a dark look which made him flat out laugh at you.
      ‘Sorry, sorry,’ he said softly, trying to calm himself slightly.
      A pained look flashed across your face, sobering him up quickly.
      ‘Hey, come here,’ he said, turning around and motioning for you to get on his back.
      ‘What?’
      ‘I’m gonna help you see it, pipsqueak,’ he said, winking over his shoulder at you though.
      You smirked at him, before getting onto his back. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, trying to keep yourself steady as he stepped onto the tree stump.
      As soon as he was steady you looked over the wall, and the scene took your breath away. There was a little lake at the bottom of a ravine, reflecting the stars. Trees scattered the further bank of it, the leaves shining in the soft moonlight.
       ‘Woah,’ you breathed, causing Bellamy to chuckle slightly.
       ‘See, this is why you have tall friends, Shortie,’ he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.


Monty Green

The technical tent was bustling when you woke up that morning, yawning as you slipped through the folds you noticed that Monty was helping Raven and Wick with something. There were a few others milling around the place – Miller was questioning one of the attractive mechanics about something you were certain he could’ve worked out in his sleep.
      ‘Hey, Monty,’ you said, leaning against one of the shelves as Monty fiddled with the wires in something, ‘what’s going on in here?’
      Monty grunted slightly in acknowledgment, fiddling with another wire, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth in concentration.
      You smirked before glancing around, looking for the pliers so you could help.
      After a few moments of looking around you glanced back over at Monty, who had finally straightened up and was looking towards you.
      ‘Hey, (Y/n),’ he said brightly, as if only just realising you were there. ‘You OK?’
      A look of confusion slipped easily onto your face, and you ran a hand worriedly through your hair – were you going crazy? You were certain you’d left the pliers on a shelf at around waist height.
      ‘Yeah,’ you said slowly, wandering towards him. ‘I just… I dunno where the pliers are.’
      A slight smirk slipped onto Monty’s face, and you were pretty certain that there was a light blush on his cheeks. ‘They’re there,’ he said, pointing to one of the top shelves.
      You groaned, there was no way you were going get them from there.
      ‘Hey, don’t worry,’ Monty said quickly, practically darting around the table so that he was by your side. ‘I’ll get them.’
      He reached up to them, going on his tiptoes slightly, before handing them to you. His hand was shaking slightly before he darted back off to work.
      ‘Thanks, Monty,’ you said brightly, shifting to help him with the wiring. But you caught Raven’s eye as you moved. There was a knowing smirk on her face that made you blush slightly.
      ‘Anytime,’ said Monty in a small voice, making you look towards him with a grateful smile on your face.
       To say that things seemed to be appearing on the higher shelves a lot more regularly after that would have been somewhat of an understatement. You’d been constantly having to ask Monty to get things for you, from the wires to sort out another radio to the saw to try and sort out the piping in the Ark shell. Not that you minded of course, it gave you something to talk to him about. In fact, Monty seemed to be glad of the assistance you needed, always obliging you with a wide grin on his face before starting to ask how you were as you worked.
      One evening, however, you realised that you’d left your bag in the tent, and hurried back to get it. You paused in the door though, hearing someone shifting things inside. Your heart hammered worriedly against your chest, and you pulled the flap back slightly, peering into the tent.
      The glimpse you got told you everything you needed to know. You saw Monty shifting the drill that you said you needed to use the following day to a shelf that was too high for you. A blush crept up your cheeks, but a smile slipped easily onto your face as you wandered away, deciding to get your bag later.


Jasper Jordan

A buzz of excited conversation filled the canteen. The remained of the Hundred were scattered amongst nervous looking people from Mount Weather, who kept casting weary glances towards them before almost shovelling their food into their mouths before scurrying off. Not that many of the Hundred seemed to notice, they were too lost in catch-up sessions with their friends, talking merrily about how they were glad to be somewhere safe finally.
      You, however, were sat in one of the corner seats with Jasper sitting opposite you. You were idly dipping the teabag into the small amount of water at the bottom of your cup, playing with the string for something to do with your hands. The two of you were in your own little world though, teasing each other as if nothing had changed. As if you were still back on the Ark trying to fight off boredom during detention.
      ‘You know,’ said Jasper, smirking over the rim of his cup of tea at you, ‘I’m surprised they’ve not asked you to go into the tutoring yet.’ There was a highly amused lilt behind his voice that made you clench your jaw slightly in annoyance.
      ‘And I’m surprised they haven’t had to make the doorways taller for your fat head to get through,’ you said venomously, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth though.
      Jasper scoffed into his drink at that, and you were certain that it sounded as though he’d blown tea out of his nose.
      ‘At least I can get into the bottom bunk of the bunk beds,’ he said, wiping his mouth slightly on the back of his hand.
       You couldn’t help but laugh at that, a smile lighting your face as you rolled your eyes at him before draining your cup of tea.
       ‘Well, that was rude,’ you said after managing to calm yourself down. You attempted to sound as offended as you could at the comment, pouting at him and widening your eyes for added effect.
       ‘Aw,’ he cooed, standing up and quickly moving around the table to stand beside you, ‘I’m sorry.’
       There was a slight smirk on his face as he pulled you into a hug. You chuckled into his shoulder, feeling him tighten his grip around your back.
       ‘Wanna know what it’s like to be tall?’ he asked brightly.
       ‘What’d you mean?’
       He chuckled slightly before lifting you up slightly.
       You chuckled at him, tightening your grip around the back of his neck.
       ‘I think I prefer being short,’ you said simply, wriggling slightly so that he’d put you down.
       ‘Suit yourself,’ he said, winking at you though as he lent to pick up his cup again.
       There was a beat before he put the cup back onto the table, the dregs reaming.
       ‘C’mon,’ he said, a bright smile slipping onto his face, ‘let’s go exploring.’
       ‘Now that sounds more like it,’ you said, grinning at him.
       ‘Don’t worry though,’ he said, nudging you slightly as you started out of the canteen, nodding to a few of the others when their attention flicked towards you, ‘I’ll make sure they don’t try taking you into a lesson though.’
       You nudged him slightly with your shoulder, shaking your head.


John Murphy

‘And so I was telling Luke,’ said Glass brightly, a dreamy smile on her face as she rattled on about her boyfriend for the fifth time in what felt like ten minutes, ‘about the time we went to the Exchange to get dresses for the ceremony.’
      You nodded along, not really paying much attention to what she was saying, by this point you were only really dealing with her because your mother had been friends with hers.
      But a weight suddenly pressed against your shoulders made you smile. Someone had their arms folded behind your neck, their arms resting across your back.
      ‘Hello, ladies,’ you heard John say, his breath tickling your hair slightly.
      You chuckled lightly, he always did this. Whenever you were trying to talk to people he’d always come along and remind you that he was that much taller than you. It had become a comforting habit now, one that actually helped sometimes.
       You noticed that Glass’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, her gaze flickering distastefully over John for a moment before she jutted her chin out slightly.
       ‘What’s up, John?’ you asked, smirking slightly at Glass’s reaction.
       ‘Oh, not a lot, (Y/n),’ he said smoothly, shifting so that he was standing on one side of you, still resting an elbow on your shoulder though. ‘All right, Glass?’
       The other girl huffed slightly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said, shining you a weak smile. ‘See you around.’ And, with that, she strutted off, waving to a few of the girls that were in your classes.
       ‘Have you seen Lewis?’ asked John once Glass was finally annoying someone else.
       A sense of foreboding washed over you. John only ever wanted to speak to the boy from Walden when he needed something to cause trouble with. Something which often ended up with him almost getting arrested for something illegal and you flirting with the guard to try and cover for him.
       You shrugged, dislodging John’s arm so as to turn to face him. ‘No, why?’ you asked slowly, raising a sceptical eyebrow at him.
       John rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. ‘I… I um, just wanted-‘
      ‘Hey, (Y/n)!’ called Thalia excitedly, rushing over to you and cutting John’s explanation off.
       You heard him give a sigh of relief before he quickly rested his elbow on your shoulder once more.
       ‘You know,’ you said in little more than a growl to John as Thalia skidded to a halt in front of you, almost toppling into the table beside you, ‘I’m not your freaking leaning post, right?’
      John chuckled lightly, shifting slightly to ruffle your hair. ‘Aw, but that’s the occupation of short people, isn’t it?’
       You rolled your eyes at him, but you couldn’t help but smirk slightly as you batted his hand away.
       ‘No, especially not without being asked anyway,’ you said, shaking your head at him as he gasped dramatically. ‘Anyway,’ you said a little louder, turning your attention towards Thalia who was grinning sheepishly as she straightened her shirt slightly, ‘you were trying to say, Thal?’

Fiction: 'Routine' | Paige Keir

She has the same routine every morning,

She wakes up, sits on the edge of her bed and looks out the window to see what the weather is like. She believes she can always judge how a day is going to go by what color the sky is. Today it is a pale grey. She decides to be optimistic and call it silver, that would mean today would be okay.

She puts on her slippers and her dressing gown and shuffles towards the door. It occurred to her, as it does every morning, that there is really no need to close her door at night as there is nobody else in the house.

She shuffles to the kitchen and presses the switch on the kettle, when nothing happens she realizes she hasn’t turned it on at the wall. This is another thing she does every morning.

She makes herself a cup of tea, she dips the teabag three times for luck before she squeezes it with her spoon. She pays special attention to the way the tea flavoring spreads through the water, like smoke.

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Kerrin McCadden, "How to Miss a Man"

Breathing is just a rhythm. Tell yourself this so that the breathing
becomes a song. Sing this song all day while you shop in the hardware
store for things you do not need. Sing it again while you cook supper

for yourself. Cook supper for yourself, even if you don’t want to.
Go for a walk, even if you don’t want to. Put your shoes on
and get the leash and even bring the dog. She will be so pleased

you might start to forget. Also, breathe. It is a rhythm. Walk
around the block, and even farther, if you have a mind to.
You might. Your feet will take you. They can. If you listen,

they are a rhythm also. Like drums. Hand drums. Swing your hands
while you walk. Tell yourself they are kind of like wings,
that the bird’s wing has a hand inside it. It does.

Come home and make tea. Every time you dip the teabag,
hold your breath like you are underwater. Hold. Breathe.
Hold. Breathe. Like that, like you are swimming across

Lake Pleiades, under water like a fish, above water like a bird
until you are stitching lake and sky. You are a needle just then,
darning holes in things, a weave of stitches across and down, like a graph.

You need to be a graph. A grid. Numbers are perfect. You can draw
two lines on a graph that can never touch. This is what you are building.

Hygiene, Health, Sleep

SPN Writing Challenge | paintedcastiel vs. sassysupernaturalsweetheart

prompt: college AU

pairings: dean/castiel

word count: 3.6k

tags: fluff, au, college, food, roommates, friends to lovers, sassy!cas, flirting, (exam stress?)

AO3

When Dean got back to the apartment after a whole day out with Sam and his mom, he found his roommate lying on the top bunk with his nose in a book, literally, sat on his face. Cas didn’t jump or startle when Dean came in. He lowered his textbook and acknowledged Dean’s presence with a quick glance and an exasperated sigh.

“Gee. Nice to see you too, Cas,” Dean said, resting his keys and bags on the kitchen counter.

Cas sat up slightly and rubbed a hand over his face, revealing a large bedhead. “I’m sorry.”

Dean looked at him curiously, noticing how worn out Cas looked when it was barely 7 o’clock. “What’d you do, study all day?”

“If studying means staring at the same two pages without taking in any information, then yes,” Cas uttered, glaring at his open textbook. “What time is it?”

“Uh, almost seven. You ate yet?” Dean asked.

Cas’ eyes lifted up in surprise. “Um, I had one of the leftover burgers for lunch. And I…” He looked down at what he was wearing, to what Dean realized was the pajamas he had on from this morning. 

Cas sighed and leaned back, taking the book back into his hands.

“Hey. C’mon, you gotta take a break from that,” Dean said, pacing towards the bunk bed.

Cas shook his head, returning his focus back to the same page. “My test is on Wednesday,” he argued with, as if that was convincing enough to let the conversation slide.

“I know,” Dean asserted, putting his hands over the top bed frame. “And I know how stressed you get when exams are close. But you know what’s more important than exams?”

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