that means free drinks

/plump lips/ park jimin imagine

Originally posted by holykyungie

summary: you never kissed a stranger but things are about to take a turn

words: 1.134

dancing, drinking, partying all night was something that you liked doing every once in a while. it was your way of releasing all the stress you had gathered up from the past week. you didn’t really have a busy life but school was a big part of it.

“y/n want another shot of something?” your friend yelled from the other side. currently you were at a table with your friends and some random guys you had never seen before. they offered you to pay for the drinks so you agreed. i mean who wouldn’t want free drinks right?

“yeah, get me whatever!” you yelled back taking a sip of some sort of hard alcohol.  

after a couple of drinks you were drunk. this happened pretty much every single time you came into the club. but you still haven’t had enough. 

 "y/f/n hahaha biiitchh i’m gettting moreee , you want anythin?“ you half yelled but your friend was busy making out with a guy so you just left and went to the bar. 

 ‘omg that guy is so ugly lol’ you thought to yourself as you were passing by sweaty bodies all dancing and girls grinding on guys. making out was something you were all about but you had never done this with a random stranger in the club like your friend was doing it. to you it seemed pointless, making out with someone who you won’t see ever again. 

 "two beers please” you said to the bar tender and he nodded grabbing two black beers from the fridge removing the caps and placing them in front of you. he gave you the bill and once you payed you started making your way back to the table. but the journey was soon over as you bumped into someones back so hard that the beers shattered and spilled all over your dress, the beer was in your hair too and it stuck on your skin.

 "oh yuuuuck" you yelled in disgust forgetting that there was someone right in front of your eyes. you didn’t bother looking up since you were soaking wet having the whole dress drenched in the alcohol. 

 "you stink.“ someones voice said. you looked up but still kept your hands on the dress not knowing what to do with it. it was a guy. a very handsome one actually, he had black hair and a very soft angelic face. 

 "you think?” you said back in a annoying way and bumped into him trying to walk away but he grabbed your wrists, making you face him.

 "hey i’m sorry it was a joke.“ he said slowly moving his hands up your arms giving you goosebumps all over your body with a slight smirk.

 'no’ you thought to yourself 'no i’m not doing this’

but there was something about him that made you want him. as soon as he touched your skin it sent shivers down your spine but you were trying to push those thoughts away since you didn’t come to this club to make out with strangers for the next couple of hours. 

 he still had his hands on you while staring into your eyes and didn’t move at all. you stared back at him slowly analyzing his face, his eyes, his nose, chubby cheeks all his features, and then you stopped on his lips. those full plump lips and every once in a while he would bite his bottom lip. barring his teeth into it. 

 'oh fuck it’ you said grabbing his face and pushing your lips onto his. he at first didn’t kiss back so you pressed your body into him not caring that your dress was still wet, and then he finally started kissing you back. he put his right hand on the small of your back, with the other one he moved your hair back behind your ear and moved his lips to your neck sucking on your sweet spot. "ahh..” you moaned and he smiled into your neck slowly tracing his tongue across the spot that he kissed before. you could feel the heat from his tongue slowly getting on your neck and every once in a while he would kiss you back on your lips. slowly tugging on your bottom lip and biting it. 

 you pulled away for a second completely out of breath still keeping your hands on this boy looking somewhere down on the floor. 'what did i just do’ you thought when the boy lifted your chin up so that you were looking at him.

 "you okay?“ he said and you nodded smiling back at him. he then put his hands on your back swaying himself and you slowly into the beat. but you didn’t feel like dancing. you just realized what have you done, kissed a random guy, and you said to yourself you wouldn’t do this. what made you change your way of thinking so quickly was probably because you started sobering down and the alcohol wasn’t in your system anymore.

 "i need some air” you said putting your hands away from him and practically running outside of this club. why was this even such a big deal to you is not like you had sex with him or anything. it was just a stupid kiss. 

 "warn me up if you are going to run away like that from me.“ you heard a voice behind you but you just stood there not looking his way.

"hey is there something wrong? did I do anything?" 


 "then what is it?”


 "you don’t fool me, I can see it in your eyes that something is up, spill baby doll I don’t bite.”

 "but you do.“ and gave him half a smile

 "there! you smiled” he said coming a bit closer to you trying to take your hands into his but you quickly pulled away from him.

 "are you afraid of me or something? i’m not going to hurt you trust me.“

 "i’m fine don’t worry about it stranger”

 "oh right how dumb of me, i’m Jimin what’s your name?“

 "y/n.” you answered very shortly still thinking about what you have done. part of you liked that you kissed this Jimin guy but a part of you wasn’t feeling right about this. 

 "sweet name, anyway want to grab another drink or something?“ 

and then you spilled it all out

 "no…listen Jimin i’m sorry about the kiss, I shouldn’t have done that I..I was drunk and wasn’t thinking straight um..I..have to go i’m sorry..” you said and started running away from him into the dark street and you ran and ran until you were so far away where he couldn’t reach you anymore.

 pt.2 anyone?


This in 12x16 felt like another solid character moment, to me; not just the fact that Dean left, but that Sam stayed. I think it’s the same difference in attitude that prompts Dean to squash down and deny the things that worry him (or, the flipside of the same coin, to accept them with fatalistic helplessness) whereas Sam will stare steely-eyed and insistent into the face of his problems. (Of course, that can certainly be problematic too.)

TalesFromYourServer: They come in all shapes and sizes

The minute she sat down wanted free free free. “We have free drink coupons! That means ANY drink right??” Didn’t even order one for herself. Couldn’t eat dairy, ordered fish tacos, asked 18 million questions about the coleslaw. Had to run to the kitchen for an answer, already got everyone else’s order. I really don’t mind the questions and the dietary concerns but we were so busy and she knew that. Worked with me at a snail’s pace. She took all my time away from my other tables. Kept my cool the whole time, getting sad looks from the rest of the table. She kept running me ragged. Asking me for individual items each time I came back. I even heard her say “look, she’s running.” Obviously seeing I’m slammed. The woman complained about everything. Food took too long, drinks took too long. Manager said she wouldnt comp the bill unless she left 20% tip (to me she said that) so she comped it. Lady left 20% on 100 (original amount). Drink tickets she kept. She was the last person at her table. It’s like her family couldn’t take it anymore.

By: oaken007

Ladies Drink Free/Playing House

The biggest reaction I had about this episode was about Claire, but since it’s slightly wanky, I’ll save it for the end so you don’t have to read it if you don’t want to. My other thoughts generally went into a Mick direction - who the hell is he, and what are they doing with him?

Because this guy - he’s supposed to be this bookworm who’s never seen any action, but at the same time he kept a remarkably cool head around the Alpha Vampire and, more importantly, he killed a kid without falling apart at all. No hesitation, no second thoughts, nothing. He’d spoken to her mom and all, and that made no difference. So now I’m kind of wondering - of course, narratively they decided it had to happen this way to establish a Claire precedent and give them something to fight about, but Mick wasn’t disturbed, or apologetic in the slightest. I mean - he’s not a psychopath, so there was this barely there sadness clinging to him, but it’s also clear that to him, these are animals, and, sure - it’s a shame to put down the family pet when it’s got rabies, but what can you do? It’s certainly not something that’ll make you sleep any less soundly. Plus, he was perfectly capable to hold his own during the investigation, and even saved Dean’s life at the end. I think Sam and Dean are underestimating this guy - assuming he’s just a squint and it’s Mr Ketch they got to worry about - and judging from next week’s promo, that’s something that will land them into a lot of trouble.

It’s also remarkable that they agreed to continue with this alliance at all, and it’s not clear, to me, what is forgivable and what isn’t in their world. Asa’s friend and that Alpha Vampire’s sidekick were exiled, or worse, but when Mary’s duplicity resulted in another hunter’s death, nothing much happened. Here we’ve got Mick killing a young girl and potentially damaging the investigation (they’re supposed to work as a team, right? and that girl had vital information into who the werewolf was), and yet he gets a second chance because, what, he knew about a method of curing lycanthropy which should never have worked? I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it, per se, just that I don’t know where the line is anymore. Maybe that’s the point?

The other thing is, if Mick was played as a Cas parallel - in a very vague, ‘dorky and slightly unshaven guy with tan coat riding in the back of the Impala’ way, then I’m going to be superhappy that he cosplayed as one of Dean’s established crushes. I mean, Mick was wearing grey both at the beginning and at the end of the episode - he only changed into a deep blue shirt in time to be mistaken for Dr Sexy, so surely I’m not the only one who’s slightly suspicious about their motives or noticed the look Dean gave him?

I’m also happy about Dean ‘repression&deflection’ Winchester calling out Mick for not being open about his feelings (dude, seriously?).

And it was nice, as always, to see the storyline focusing on toxic masculinity and toxic heterosexual relationships and Dean being pissed at men who treat women like dirt. Someone who grew up like he did and lives a life of motels and random violence could very easily have been one of those ‘women are bitches’ fuckboys, and the fact he’s not never fails to warm my heart.

That said, time to use my mom voice and talk about Claire.

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I really wish I could make gifs now. Well, technically I can, but also technically I’m supposed to be awake and alive in 4 hours. The episode was really good and I’m itching to do the funny parts. But I need to sleep. I hope to be still alive by tomorrow night.

The Island

New multi-part Omelia AU fic. Owen Hunt is a business man. He’s a firm believer that he is completely self-sufficient and void of human ‘weaknesses’ such as love. His favourite relationship is the one between him and his phone. He takes care of himself, he satisfies his needs and he prefers his own company over others’. He has his money, his looks and his power. What else does he need?

One more kick and that’s it, I’m turning round and saying something, I think to myself again and again.

There’s a certain etiquette on a plane that one should respect and adhere to, and first class usually guarantees the privelege of such behaviour. I can hear what is behind me. It’s a child- a child I now know is called Theodore Francis Shepherd after its mother scorned it with its full name for not calming down, shutting up and falling to sleep when it was asked.

Now, if I ruled the earth, sea and sky, I would insist that first class have an age requirement. They’d be no parties bigger than two unless it involved a horny, drunk bachelorette party providing a plethora of depressed single ladies about to lose one more of their kind to the married life.

In an ideal world, all flights would have the private suite option like the Emirates flight to Dubai have, but I suppose I’m not in charge of what airline the law firm book me on. British Airways will have to do.

New York to London is a trip I do regularly for work. I travel the hour or so in a yellow taxi from my Manhatten apartment overlooking Central Park to JFK, I breeze through check-in and security and patiently wait in the first class lounge with a glass of champagne. If it’s the morning then they often put orange juice in too, much to my dismay. With someone, you’re thinking? Do I do this all alone? Yes. Thank God. From what I’ve experienced, from what I’ve seen, alone is better.

A 1624 work by the English author John Donne states that “No man is an island”. Nobody can live self-sufficient from the world, from other people. We depend and rely on others. Well, aside from people providing me with work and a way to get around, I beg to differ. Consider me an island with a big fucking ocean surrounding me. On my island there is me, there is work, there is a gym, there is an occasional female visitor and definitely no mother trying to tell her child to stop kicking the back of my fucking chair.

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Do people ever put any actual thought into shit like this?
Here, let me break it down:

Opening doors for another person is just the polite thing to do. I open and hold doors for grown ass men all of the time because it’s called being considerate.
Hold the bags? What does this even mean? You mean like when your wife is shopping and you’re just there to “hold the bags”? Because I’ve actually never seen that anywhere but in a movie where they are portraying stereotypes.
Give up your seat? So you won’t give up your seat to a pregnant or elderly woman to stick it to the feminists? I’ve often given my seat up to elderly men and women, pregnant women, or just another young adult of any sex because, like everything else, it is considerate. If someone has been standing for a while and I’ve been sitting, I will always offer my chair. It’s polite. That’s it.

Free drinks are always offered by men in the hopes of getting laid, and sex is almost always expected. And if the woman doesn’t go home with the man after he bought her free drinks?
“What do you mean ‘I really appreciate the drinks. That was sweet of you, but I’m sorry, I’m not going home with you’? Why did I spend all that money buying you drinks? Just because I wanted to get to know you? Pffft.”

“I don’t get free entry”
Once again, the whole 'women get in free’ thing is always done to then attract horny men to pay to get into said place in the hopes that at least one of the women will get drunk off ALL THOSE free drinks and sleep with his pathetic ass.

“I don’t get sympathy.”
Bahahaha. What the hell? First of all, what the hell do you mean?? What is the context here? Do you honestly think only women receive sympathy? I’m so confused.

“She must have one gaping vagina, the slut!”
“Ew that vagina looks like an open face roast beef sandwich!”
“It was like throwing a hot dog down a tunnel!”
“Damn, her pussy was so tight!”
“I want that tight pussy of yours so bad, ma.”

I could go on and on and on.

Once again, this is all because of other men. Men are expected to be masculine and adhere to certain styles that aren’t 'feminine". This is exactly one of the things feminists fight for.
Men, you wanna wear heels? Wear them. Rock them. If they make you feel hot, throw them on and then dig that heel into the temple of any man or woman who calls you less of a man for wearing them.
I have pretty large feet due to my height, so we can even share cute shoes! And I won’t think you any less of a man.

Again, with the makeup. It’s only because society (mostly men) call it unmanly. But feminists say, my dude, you wanna contour your face and rock a nice shade of lipstick? I’ll shoot you some tutorials and tell you how badass you look afterwards. It. Doesn’t. Make. You. Any. Less. Of. A. Man.
And while you’re at it, gimme some tips. Cause I suck at doing my makeup. That’s why I rarely wear anything more than eyeliner and mascara.

Stupid men can’t be blond? What does that mean? Are you saying a man can’t be stupid and get away with it because he’s blond??? Since when can women get away with that ridiculous stereotype? It’s 2016. We know hair color has Jack shit to do with intelligence. If a woman is blond and can get away with being stupid, it’s because most men are attracted to the ditzy, sexy, blond. That’s one large reason women, Marilyn Monroe to name one iconic one, dye(d) their hair blond and act like idiots even though they are actually very smart. They are afraid men don’t like smart women. And most of the media proves that many men don’t. (Once again, think Marilyn Monroe)

“When you slapped me I was wrong”
No, I was wrong because no one should be slapping anyone unless in self defense.
“When I slapped you I had anger issues”
Possibly you do have anger issues. Who knows? But once again, it is wrong because no one should be hitting anyone else unless you are in fear for your safety and need to try to protect yourself.

Well, if she had worked and had a salary and you are getting divorced she is entitled to half because it was a fifty fifty income no matter why you are divorcing. Other than that, there is such a thing as a prenup.
Now, let’s all think of all the cases where the man cheated on or was beating the woman and she decided she wanted a divorce and the judge ruled in favor of the man and gave the man everything? I personally know two women who got married, did the stay at home mom thing while he worked, found out he was having an affair (the other one she was being mentally abused by him and finally had enough), filed for divorce, and he walked away with everything while the women and their children moved in with their mother (the other with her sister and her husband and daughter).

Feminism addresses all of these things. Feminism is not just fighting for women’s rights. It is fighting against the patriarchy, a patriarchy which also harms men. We are constantly addressing those issues. But all the manplaining and MRA bullshit doesn’t look at that. They just see men being “attacked” and immediately start complaining.

Found these gems on Facebook. Lots of men sharing them thinking they are sticking it to us crazy feminists!!
(By the way, everyone who has Twitter should @ these to all the actors in these images, since we all know the person who photoshopped these did not have permission to use these images for something I know for a fact none of these men stand for. So, everyone, please send these images to these actors Twitter’s)
But this just makes me laugh/want to cry. No thought went into this. Men are really grasping at straws here.

If There’s No Objection
Rated Explicit

Prompt-verse: Belle & Gold are rival attorneys with benefits. When one attorney wins a case against the other then the loser must give pleasure to the winner.


Parts Two started with a tumblr ask (link)

How did this happen from the start? Who brought it up? Why did you go along with it?

Part Three will be posted for @rumbelleorderinthecourt​ on April 11!


“It was a pity about that break-in case, I suppose. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said the perpetrator had an honest face,” Gold smirked into his glass, tipping it back to drain the last few sips.

Beside him at the bar, Belle narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. She genuinely liked Mr. Gold, respected his work even if they sometimes disagreed ethically. But there were times she was dying to slap that smugness right off his handsome face. Or perhaps kiss it off. Swallow his taunts and give him something else to grin about, instead… She flushed and looked back down at her drink, fiddling with the twin straws.

“Twenty dollars says they overturn it and he walks,” she threw back, at last.

Gold lifted an eyebrow, “I’d never have pegged you as the betting type.”

“Hmm, clearly you don’t know me very well…” She teased, closing her lips over one straw while keeping their gazes locked.

“Clearly…” he murmured, Adam’s apple bobbing.

Belle felt a little thrill run through her, centering at her core. She crossed her legs, pressing her thighs together. Gold smiled, gaze flicking down to where her stocking tops were just barely visible at the slit of her skirt. He took a breath before averting his gaze, cheeks tinged pink.

She’d allowed the skirt to hitch up as they sat, hoping for just such a reaction. The better to gauge his interest. She’d caught him checking her out more than once, recently. Despite the copious cleavage of many of his associates, he never seemed to look at them like that. With darkened eyes and that half-hidden smile. It wasn’t the first time she suspected her little crush might be mutual, just the first time she’d felt bold enough to do something about it.

Maybe it was the freedom of being out of town on a conference, away from most of those they knew in the legal world. Maybe it was the big empty bed waiting for her in the hotel room upstairs. Maybe she was just feeling brave.

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“what do you mean Romano stole my tomato babies again???” 🍅

Finding Supernatural -Part 1

Characters: Reader (Y/N Y/L/N), Dean Winchester (not yet), Sam Winchester, Fergus Crowlwy, Bobby Singer, Ellen And Jo Harvelle, Meg Masters (1.0), and plenty other supernatural characters.

Pairing: Reader x Crowley (purely symbolic), Reader x Dean (Future)

Warnings: Mentions of illness, mentions of dead characters, lots of imagination.

Word count: 2,660

Summary: I can never write a proper summary, but here I go… 

Y/N is a young screenplay writter, trapped in a boring relaionship that slowly drains the enthusiasm and creativity out of her, till one day she meets her muse in the most unespexted place… The Supernatural world is a place where anything can happen, but does that include a happy ending?

A/N: This is my entry for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing  SPN MOVIE NIGHT CHALLENGE. This series in inspired by the movie Finding Neverland.  

For the sake of this story the age difference between Sam and Dean is 10 years.

Thanks to my babe @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname for being super enthusiats about this story and for the beta work!!!  

This is kinda like my first fic edit so, idk hope you like it as well

Finding Supernatural Masterpost

[Feedback is the best way to show love]

Part 1

“Dontcha love these movies previews?” Y/N hears the young woman say to her companion, sitting right in the first row.

“I mean, we get to eat junk food and drink for free while watching some stupid movie that will probably never premier or go directly into video stores,” The guy laughs and Y/N sighs, she knows the film is already doomed.

Not that she hadn’t known earlier, it’s just that she never really liked the idea… another newlywed’s comedy slash drama slash romance and happy ending, like this idea hasn’t been done before, like a thousandth times!

But she needed to deliver something and quick! Bobby was ready to chew her head and spit it out if she didn’t make it to the deadline again, he had threaten her with ripping her contract twice, though he never would, so she wrote the first thing that came to mind after a weekend of binge-watching romcom movies to help her stupid block.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Y/N rolls her eyes at the name and slowly turns around, tangled on the thick bordeaux drapes.

“What?” she asks awkwardly smiling at the shy PA boy. “I’m kinda busy” she hisses gripping the velvet fabric around her head.

“Mr. Singer and your husband are-”

“Fiancé.” Y/N interrupts cocking an eyebrow to the blushing kid.

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To everybody celebrating, and a great rest of the week to everybody else! I shouldn’t be too busy, so expect some updates XD (also expect more Star Wars.) Mostly, expect unrepentant nsfw Bagginshield, now with the seasonal tag of ho-ho-hot.

Reset || Klaroline

Caroline had a bad habit of staying late at work, but the hospital never slept as proven by the late night car accident victim rushing into their emergency room. Left with his older brother, she makes an effort to at least reset the poor guy’s broken nose. 

Warnings: slight mentions of past abuse, car accident, emergency room visit

“Go home, Caroline,” Bonnie insisted, all but shoving her friend toward the locker room. “You’ve been on your feet for at least six hours, four of which weren’t even your shift.”

Sighing, Caroline rubbed at her neck tiredly. “I know, I’m going,” she promised.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Bonnie snorted, following Caroline like a watchful parent. “Even doctors need their sleep.”

As they passed the emergency room entrance, however, paramedics burst through the door with a gurney. “Motor vehicle collision, ten-year-old boy with a broken arm and labored breathing.”

Jumping into action, Bonnie elbowed her way next to the stretcher as they rushed toward the trauma room. “Head wound, conscious?”

“Likely a concussion, some lacerations from the glass, barely awake,” a medic explained. Caroline watched them disappear down the hallway, her heart clenched in worry.

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Louis Tomlinson - This Girl Ain’t Loyal

My friends dragged me to this stupid club to ‘have some fun’. I love going to clubs, just not tonight. I was so tired from working all week and I just wanted to stay at home and have a night in with my loving boyfriend. My ex was a total douche, the whole relationship was just sex. I can’t lie, it was the best sex I’ve ever had, but I wanted more. When he didn’t want to stay in at night and just cuddle (not having sex) so I decided to leave him, and I haven’t seen or heard from him since. 

I was sitting at the bar alone while all my friends were dancing. I would dance but I’m just too tired. I was facing the bar searching for a bar attendant so I could get another drink when someone sat next to me. I didn’t even bother looking at him, he probably just wants to get in my pants. Which is not happening. The bar attendant finally came over but before I could ask for another drink the person next to me spoke “can I have a beer please and a screwdriver [vodka and orange juice] for the lady”. I knew that voice, and I’m not looking forward to the conversation I’m about to have.

“So Y/N, miss me?”

“Definitely not Louis”

“Oh really? I doubt that”

“Actually I have a new boyfriend, one that isn’t a complete ass. So if you don’t mind, please leave me alone”

“Yeah, I’m an ass. But I’m still the best you’ve ever had, and I know that I’m better than this ‘new boyfriend’ of yours, because you’re here and not with him”

“I’m here because I was forced to be here, I didn’t want to come”

“Well, I’ll take you home if you want?”

“No. Not at all. No way Louis. Just leave me alone”.

I turned back around to face the bar and finish drinking my drink that Louis bought me. Even though I hate him, doesn’t mean I’m going to pass on a free drink. 
He grabbed my thigh and spun me around on the stool so I was facing him again.

“C’mon Y/N, come back to mine with me. Just for tonight. Your little boyfriend doesn’t need to know”

“No Louis, I don’t cheat”


He grabbed my hand leaving both our drinks behind dragging me to the dance floor. He walked until we close to the middle, Louis grabbed my hips and tried to make me dance with him. No way I was going to dance with Louis. I saw my friend just behind Louis so I pushed past him to go dance with my friend. 

Louis followed, dancing behind me again putting his hands on my hips. I tried to ignore him and carry on dancing with my friend until I felt a pair of lips on my neck. Louis was leaving light kisses all across my neck and shoulder. I tried to pull away but his hands kept me still. He kissed my sweet spot before sucking on it probably leaving a mark. I bit my lip to try and keep in my moan but it eventually came out. I knew that Louis had heard because he chuckled behind me, pressing me closer to his body. He spun me around so we were face to face. Louis slowly began to lean in eventually pressing his soft lips against mine. I know it’s wrong but I kissed back. Not long after his tongue licked across my lower lip asking for entrance, which I denied and pulled away. I looked him in the eyes before turning around and walking away from him. 

I started to walk out of the club heading for the doors before someone grabbed my arm turning me around and straight into a rough kiss. I knew it was Louis, I knew what I was doing was wrong, but it felt so right. Maybe I shouldn’t have broken up with him.

He pulled away, “Last chance, I can take you home to your boyfriend, or you can come to mine? What’s it going to be?” I thought about it for a couple of seconds before I leaned back in for another kiss. It was only short as he pulled away and took my hand dragging me outside into a taxi. 
The whole ride back to his apartment we were making out in the backseat. He pulled me out and into the elevator to go to his apartment. And once through the door I was slammed against the wall in a rough and heated kiss. Louis grabbed the tops of my thighs signalling me to jump and wrap my legs around his waist. He carried me to his bedroom, softly throwing me down onto the bed before pulling off his top and hovering over me. His lips reattached to my neck kissing down to my collarbone. His arms wrapped around my back to unzip my dress. He slowly pulled my dress down, absorbing my half naked body. He looked me up and down before placing his lips on mine once again. His hands now cupping my breasts and then unclasping my bra, setting them free. “So beautiful”. I started to blush a bit as he kissed my cheek then moving down towards my boobs. Lightly kissing each nipple then kissing down my stomach towards the top of my knickers. He slowly pulled them down my legs. He moved back up kissing my lips once again. I fumbled with the button of his jeans but managed to get it undone. He unzipped his zipper and slid them off his legs along with his briefs. 
Louis pumped himself a couple of times before lining himself up with my entrance. His lips returned on mine as he pushed himself in, we both pulled away to let out a moan. My back arched as he thrusted in and out at a slow and tormenting pace. I grabbed his hair tugging indicating to go faster. “Beg” I shook my head.

“If you want me to go faster you’ll have to beg baby”

” Louis please, please go faster, oh god Louis baby” he increased the speed. Also going deeper. Hitting the places my boyfriend couldn’t. 
He flipped us over so I was straddling his waist. I moved up and down, rotating my hips in a figure 8 motion. His hand found my hips guiding me up and down. He started thrusting at the same time. Going deeper than before. He hit my spot over and over and I was a mess. “I- I’m close” I placed my hands on his chest supporting myself as Louis took control guiding me along his shaft while still thrusting. I felt the knot become bigger and my walls clench around Louis earning a loud growl from him. 
The knot suddenly disappeared as I reached my high. Louis releasing into me shortly after.

I fell onto Louis chest breathing heavily. He removed himself from me and I whimpered at the loss of contact. He wrapped his arms around me kissing my forehead lovingly. I closed my eyes falling asleep. “I should’ve never let you walk out that door”. I cuddled more into Louis’ chest keeping my eyes closed. Falling asleep. 

I awoke the next morning with my head on Louis’ chest and his arm wrapped around me. I got up and put on my knickers and Louis’ shirt that lay on the floor from last night. I grabbed my phone and called my boyfriend telling him I cheated and it was over. I returned to bed and crawled underneath the blankets cuddling up to Louis once again. Lightly kissing his chest then falling back asleep. 
Louis is the best I’ve ever had, and I never should’ve left in the first place.

*Not my gifs, but my writing :)

white roses

Request from poemfreak306: Can you do 46&47 as well lol I hate to ask for more then one but I just love your story’s! :)

Fandom: The Flash
Pairing: Barry Allen x reader
BTW: This is an AU and Y/N and Caitlin have been friends for a long time and when the Flash happened, Barry and Y/N got close

046: I qaught the bouquet! 
047: my ex just sent me a wedding invitation and I need a date so it doesn’t seem like I still haven’t moved on from him…

A/N: Thank you for liking my works, it means a lot to me! Now I just hope you’ll like this one as well xx


Y/N stumbled into her building. Her breathing was heavy and sweat was dripping down her forehead. Unlike her scarlet friend, Y/N was not in that good of shape. So after a 8 miles jog, she was almost out of breath and in need for water. ‘Why doesn’t this building have an elevator?’ she thought while opening her mailbox, taking the letters up the stairs with her.

After taking a good shower, Y/N decided to celebrate her run with some Thai-food and a movie. Waiting for her food, she decided to quickly scan through her mail. Once se saw a certain name she stopped. Thomas Hudson, that’s a guy she hasn’t thought of in a long time. ‘Wow, I need to visit mom soon, then…’ It must have been one and a half by now? Probably.

Curious of what her ex had wanted to mail her, Y/N ripped the envelope open, and a fancy, card popped out. 50% of her was in shock, the other half almost expected it to happen. In front of her was a picture of a familiar brunette next to once her Tommy. ‘We’re getting married!’

That night, Y/N thought about the wedding so much that she dreamt of her favorite flowers and white dresses. The next morning her head was so full of thoughts about marriage that when Caitlin came to pick her up for work, she said how sorry she was for making them late for church.

“Church?” Caitlin had asked to be sure she heard her right the first time.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“You said you were sorry for making us late for church…” Caitlin voice had a hint of worry.

“I did? Oh I’m sorry, it’s just that I got this invite yesterday…” and just like that Y/N had to explain to one of her dearest friends and colleague, what had happened the night before.

A gust of wind snapped Y/N out of her trace and made her loose her balance. Just before her body hit the ground a pair of strong arms captured her.

“You doing alright there, miss Y/L/N?” Barry asked with a playful grin plastered on his face. His presence and happy aura affected Y/N’s mind, and a smile tug onto her lips as well, a small giggle escaping them.

“I’m doing just fine, how about you, Mr. Allen?” She said in the same teasing tone he had used which made him laugh and pull her up to her feet.

“I’m great,”

It had been two hours of physics and math with Barry, and Y/N’s brain was about to go bonkers. It was difficult to try to figure something out as well as having a wedding to go to. She could already hear her mothers snickering, she had loved Thomas so much she was sure her mother kept emailing him every now and then (which she guessed was why he invited her, because, who even does that?). “You should never have let him break up with you, Y/N! Look, that could have been you!” Then she would criticize the looks of his new bride (Charlotte) and later go on about wanting grand children, and after that she would start complaining about the neighbors.

“Bare, you free 20th October?” She burst out.

“20th October? Uhm, yeah sure, I think?” He looked at her as if she had just told him she liked to lick cat-paws. Y/N never planned something that far ahead, so asking if he was free in two and a half month was so far away from her usually persona that Barry almost got worried of what he had gotten himself into.

“Ugh, I feel so stupid but, my ex just sent me a wedding invitation and I need a date so it doesn’t seem like I still haven’t moved on from him…

“And you want me to be your date?” Barry asked, hope rising up inside of him. This had to mean something, he thought, there had to be a reason he asked him and not an other guy.

“If you want to! I mean, it’s basically just a night with free food and drinks in exchange that you support me and pretend to be my boyfriend. But I totally understand if you don’t want to go! I’m sure I can find-“

“No, no, it’s ok, I’d love to go with you,” Barry smiled warmly at her.

“Caitlin, I don’t know what to do, this is such a rare situation!” panic began to rise inside Y/N’s body. She knew this would happen, she knew she would freak out. It wasn’t everyday you went to your ex’s wedding with your current crush and friend as your date that you have had since forever.

“It will be fine, Y/N, I’m sure-“ the doorbell interrupted what probably would have been a good pep talk, and both of the girls fixed their eyes over towards the sound.

“Please open the door for me, Cait,” Y/N pleaded, some part of her was glad Barry turned up now, because if he hadn’t she was sure she would have changed back into her PJs and start a Harry Potter marathon instead. Caitlin saw her expression and did as asked.

“Barry, hi!”

The big ball of hormones and butterflies inside her stomach expanded every other second. What would Barry think of her dress? What would he think of her by the end of the night? Sure they had been friends for years, though they had never been on a date before, this being the closest thing to it made her nervous.

“Yes, she’s here, Y/N?” Her friend’s voice snapped Y/N out of her nervous breakdown, it was time to pull herself together.

“Yeah, coming,” she answered and swallowed what was left in her wine glass. By each step she took closer to the door, the nervous feeling grew and before she knew it, the man himself stood in front of her. The man she had crushed on for about a year. The man that had occupied her mind all day and made her insides twist and shout.

“Oh, wow, Y/N. You look gorgeous… not that you don’t look beautiful everyday, ‘cause you do, it’s just-“ Barry stopped his ramble when he saw Y/N giggle. Normally her laughter would make him feel warm inside, and feel a sudden need to smile. Now all he felt were the redness creeping up his cheeks.

“Let’s go, shall we?” He said, and Y/N nodded, and accepted the arm he held ready for her to take.

“Aunt Sheryl and uncle Bob at two o’clock,” Barry whispered into Y/N’s ear as they sat and ate their dinner. Following his directions, Y/N’s eyes stopped on a woman in her late 50s. She had a tight fitted, hot pink dress on that reached to her mid thighs, a matching lipstick applied and heavy eye shadow that matched her dyed dark hair. Next to her was a short, round, balled man, the only hair on his face was his thick, dark mustache and forest-inspired eyebrows.

“They have barely touched each other the past two or three months, and he are clueless for her desperate need for attention. Which – of course, is why she’s looking for a toy that’s into elder women. Look, she has found someone already,” Y/N said, and the weird pair followed the pink lady’s stare that landed on an 18 year old waiter. When they saw the acne-filled face stare back at Sheryl with a “seduce” look on his face, they burst out laughing.

And so the night went. It was so unlike them: to laugh at others. But it was not every day you were invited to your ex’s wedding, so they had to do something to let time fly by. With no warning, several sounds of women’s cries of joy and excitement popped Y/N and Barry’s bubble of fun.

“Charlotte is tossing the bouquet!” “The bride is tossing her bouquet!” some of them shouted. It may have been by influence of Y/N’s earlier glasses of whine and drinks, but suddenly she rose up from her seat, a smile plastered onto her face.

She had caught it. Y/N had caught the bouquet. It was ironic. It was funny. And in stead of crying, like some of the other ladies probably would have, Y/N laughed. Right after her fingertips had locked around the white roses, she had laughed, and run up to her beloved date.

“I caught the bouquet!”

“I can see that,” Barry grinned on her behalf, the alcohol inside of him imagining her in a wedding dress, and himself standing up by the alter.

After a lot of water, Y/N’s tipsiness had quieted down, and she was walking home with Barry. What a day. And to think that for some hours ago, she was nervous and thought about staying at home? How grateful she was for Caitlin being there, and making sure she didn’t.

“This was fun. In a weird way…” She stated, her high heels dangling in her hand that wasn’t hold by Barry.

“We should do this again, just not at a wedding, or near exes, or because we have to, but because we want to,” Barry mentally face palmed. Had she noticed his slip? Did she hate him now? Hate him for loving her too much? Was that possible at all? But in stead of the scowl he half excepted yet feared, Barry saw Y/N blush and nod.

“Yeah, we should,”

        Though they did not know it then, but later onthey agreed to have their first official date at some fancy restaurant that Barry had gotten from felicity. Though of course some meta-business interrupted it. But that didn’t matter. Because Y/N loved Barry, and she knew whom his alter ego was. She knew what she had gotten herself into, and she loved it. She loved him. Though she didn’t know they would get married 16 months later. And she didn’t know how just like on their first date. A stupid Meta had to interrupt their dessert after their ceremony.

A/N: So I’m working on some cool stuff rn peeps, so I hope that will make up for not posting :// Love ya :*


“I thought the Devil liked working alone,” teased Y/N.
Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I’m calling in my IOU, Y/N. I need your help before someone else dies.”
“Fine, but had better mean I start getting free drinks at the club. Cause my favor wasn’t as big as the one you’re asking of me.”
requested by anon
requests are open

Fella Done Me Wrong

Originally posted by elysean

Originally posted by vogue-n-bitches

Based on Anonymous Prompt: Hi !! May I request a 40’s!Steve x reader where the reader is the singer in a bar and Steve just can’t keep his eyes off of her and when she’s sung, she starts to serve and it’s like the “how did a girl like you end up in a dump like this” -fella done me wrong" scene from AoU? I’m rambling but I hope you understand and have a lovely day!

A/N: I’m realizing now that a lot of these prompts are from MAY and I’m just now getting to them and I am so, so sorry for that.  This got really angsty, like way angstier than I thought was possible, but I had fun writing in a more poetic style.  Pretty different from my normal fluff, so let me know what you think!

Tagging @pleasecallmecaptain, @mattymattymerduck, @writingbarnes, @kissofvenom922, @b-orderline, @shamvictoria11, and @callingmrsbarnes.


Soldiers pass in and out of the bar every day.  You rarely see the same face twice.  On principle, you never think about why that could possibly be.  If you can keep your mind from wandering, you just might be able to sleep at night.

But on this particular night, there’s one face that you just barely recognize.  One face that you feel as if you’ve seen before, an almost familiar face in the ever-changing crowd you’ve come to inhabit.

His eyes follow your every movement as you croon out a few songs, helping everyone in the small, moth-eaten bar to forget about the war going on all around them, if only for a few hours.  You sing the same set of standards you do every night, a selection of upbeat dance classics and melancholy torch songs, but it’s different tonight.  It’s different because you’re singing to him.

After your set is done, you step down and move back behind the bar.  The joint’s perpetually understaffed, and you pitching in means free drinks to drown your sorrow in at the end of the night.

The man approaches slowly, in a self-conscious way that you’re not used to seeing.  Men that look like him, they’re normally all swagger and bravado, eager to tell you tales of bravery and derring-do.  The way he moves is different, as if he doesn’t quite believe he belongs.  You feel a surge of affection for the man that surprises you.  You hadn’t realize your jaded heart had the capacity for such innocence.

“How goes it, soldier?” you say, a well-worn smile spreading across your perfectly glossed red lips.  

“I’ve seen better days,” he replies, sitting down before you.  Other soldiers crowd the bar around him, attempting to flag you down, but you pay them no attention.  It’s almost as if the rest of the world has melted away and it’s just the two of you, alone in the bar.

“Haven’t we all?” you say, sliding a drink across the bar.  “On the house.  Or rather, on me.”

“Thank you,” he replies, picking up the glass.  He brings it to his lips and they briefly kiss the rim before he sets the glass back down, the drink untouched.  “So how did a nice girl like you wind up working in a dump like this?”  

A low, throaty chuckle escapes you.  You can’t help it; you’ve heard all the variations of the line.  But there’s something in his voice that puts a stop to your laughter, a candor and a genuine curiosity.  And for once in your life, you give an honest answer.

“Fella done me wrong,” you reply as your eyes meet him.  He raises an eyebrow ever so slightly, silently asking for more, but you offer nothing more.  You hold his gaze as he shifts his glass from hand to hand.  

“You got a lousy taste in men,” he replies and you let out another laugh, sharper this time.

“Don’t I know it,” you say, grabbing a tattered rag and wiping the bar down in front of you.  Your voice is bitter, betrays more than you’d like.

“What kind of man leaves a girl in the middle of a war?” he asks and you decide you’ve had enough of the charade.

“The kind you fall madly in love with,” you say simply.  “The kind that becomes your entire world and convinces you to follow him across an ocean.  The kind that marches out with his regiment and never comes back.  The kind that you always knew would break your heart.”  The loud bustle of the bar only seems to highlight the silence that hangs between the two of you like an ugly storm cloud.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his hand inching forward as if he wants to take yours.  “Which regiment?”

“107th,” you say mechanically, the number seared into your mind.

“We got ‘em back,” he says and your heart flutters at the hope in his voice.  Hope that some would call naiveté.  “They were POWs and we took the facility.  We freed the-”

“I know,” you respond, finally forcing yourself to pour drinks for the rest of the thirsty soldiers.  “His fellow soldiers, they were the ones who came and found me, told me how he went down fighting.”

He doesn’t respond, and you know there’s nothing for him to say.  You slide the drinks over the bar and you’re met with a round of cheers.  You force a smile onto your face, one you’ve practiced in front of the mirror.  It’s too broad, too tight.  But you’re not quite sure what a real smile looks like anymore.

“Why haven’t you gone home?” he asks.

“Home?” you repeat wistfully.  He lets out a half-hearted laugh and you know he feels the same longing you do.  “Where’s home for you?”

“Brooklyn.”  It clicks into place for you.  You’ve seen his deep, soulful eyes, that optimistic smile of his, albeit on a much scrawnier frame.  You remember him staring up at you from the audience at a couple of the shows you played in the neighborhood.

“You were that scrawny kid, the one that always took on the bigger guy, always got kicked out of the bar, usually in the middle of my set.  What are you doing over here?”

“Well ma’am,” he replies.  “You might not have heard, but there’s a war on.”  There’s something about the way he says that makes you laugh.  Not the way you laughed before.  Lighter, clearer, higher.  The way you used to laugh.

“Well, for that, I’ll grant you something many men have asked for, but none have received,” you say, wiping your hands on a towel.

“What’s that?”

“A dance.  If you’re up to it.”  He offers you a hand and you make your way around the bar.  He leads you to the center of the floor, placing one hand on your waist.  Against your better judgement, you slide forward and lay your head gingerly on his chest.  You listen to the steady beat of his heart as he threads his fingers through yours.  It’s been a while since you’ve been this close to anyone.

He sways back and forth to the music and you follow his lead, although your movements are dictated by the constant, reassuring thumps in his chest.  The band stops and starts a new song, but you make no move to leave and neither does he.  You stay that way, wrapped in each others’ arms until people finally start to trickled out and the morning light is just about kissing the horizon.

“It’s been quite a night, Brooklyn,” you smile.  

“Steve,” he says.  You nod, but you don’t offer your name in response.  “My unit moves on today.  We were just passing through.”

“I figured as much,” you say.  You still haven’t let go of his hand.

“Think we’ll ever meet again?” he asks.  The blend of hope and doubt in his voice very nearly break what’s left of your heart.  And so you match his honesty with your own.

“I’d like nothing more,” you say.  “But I don’t believe in making promises I can’t keep.”  He nods and raises your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles.  Your hands reach up of their own accord, pulling his face down toward you.  You press your lips against his cheek and let him go.  He turns away and retreats into the dawn-streaked streets.  

Soldiers pass in and out of the bar every day.  You don’t see Steve again, not for the rest of the war and not when you return to the States and decide to make your home in Brooklyn.  On principle, you never think about why that could possibly be.  If you can keep him out of your thoughts, you just might be able to sleep at night.

anonymous asked:

Hello! Could you please do (if you're not too busy) "I work as a barista and you always come over during my shift and order the most complicated drink ever and now I’ve memorised all of favourite food and drinks" with Peter Maximoff?? I used to work as a barista and there would be customers who deliberately came during my shift so... this struck a chord with me. Thank you! :>

what a dick move tho!!

peter + i work as a barista and you always come over during my shift and order the most complicated drink ever and now i’ve memorized all of your favorite food and drinks

“Jesus Christ Jean,” you whine, as the bell rings on the door. “he’s back. I swear, he always comes in during my shift!”

Jean just snickers, patting you on the back.

“Hey, maybe it’s just on his way to work!” She reassures, as you roll your eyes, already picking up a venti cup for his order. “And maybe, he just thinks you’re cute!”

“Pfft, maybe he just likes making my morning an absolute hell with his order.” you tell Jean, who just chuckles.

As Peter approaches the counter with his wallet in hand, he’s already giving you a small nod of acknowledgment, lips curling into an almost mischievous smile. You  take a deep breath, willing yourself to give him an obvious fake grin.

“Welcome back!” You chirp, voice dripping with fake happiness. He seems to pick up on this, as he slams a twenty on the counter. “Your usual?”

Peter chuckles, and you absolutely hate that he has an adorable laugh.

“You know my usual? That makes me feel special!” He says, leaning forward on to the counter. You’re already off starting to make his drink, as you scoff at his reply.

“How could I forget an order like yours?” You yell over the sound of the shrill coffee machine. “A venti sugar free caramel macchiato with skim milk, extra shot, extra hot, extra whip, and a blueberry muffin is one helluva order!”

“Pssh, it’s the most exciting order,” he objects playfully, as you turn to set his drink in front of him. “you should feel honored to be able to make it! No one makes it like you do.”

Rolling your eyes, you also grab a muffin from the display and put it in a little bag for him.

“So, you’re admitting to coming during my shift on purpose?” You ask with a smirk, picking up the bill to give him his change. Peter takes a swig of his drink, releasing a happy groan at the taste of his drink.

“Of course. And not just because you make delicious macchiatos,” he starts, tilting his head to give you a once over. “it’s also because you’re pretty much the prettiest person I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

You nearly drop all the money you’re holding in your hand at his statement, looking up to meet his eyes. Peter is just standing there looking like he just didn’t tell you exactly what you wanted to hear — knowing damn well that he’s good with his words.

“You’re smooth, y’know that Peter?” You say finally, handing him his change — only for him to dump it in the tip jar. “But you’re still annoying!”

As Peter picks up his drink and muffin, he winks, and says,

“I’ll pick you up at the end of your shift, sound good?”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you, before you think ‘fuck it’ and quickly write down your number on a receipt, shoving it in his hands, as Peter lets out a little cheer.

“This doesn’t mean free drinks, Peter!” You yell after him, as he leaves.

“See you at five, sugar!”

Jean just lets out a hearty laugh as you cover your face with your hands, thinking — what did I just get myself into?

Unexpected Preferences (Bias x Reader) Pt. 4

I know I said I’d stop with the series, but some are still reading it and it’s stuck in my drafts. Hate deleting unused work. Requests are still open my reader babies ^-^

Once B/N gets to the hospital, the doctor is surprised to see him with another woman in the same condition.

“Same as before?” he asks sarcastically.

B/N ignores the question, “Just help her,” he’s waiting outside the room, his head bobbing from exhaustion when he hears someone call his name. It’s Gyuri and she’s leaving with her parents. 

“You’re still here?” she asks.

“Um, yeah. Why are you leaving so soon?”

“There’s no point in staying any longer and I can’t sleep in a place like this. But why are you here? I thought you left earlier,”

“Yeah well, I thought I’d come back,” he lied, “Do you feel safe leaving?” 

At this she smiles, “I’d like to see them break through my security. But I’m okay now, so thanks for waiting,”

Right then the doctor exits the room that had the other woman inside, “Nothing serious has happened, but she may not wake up for a few more hours,”

B/N stands between Gyuri and her parents and the doctor, “I think your information is a bit late doc, she’s right here, well and standing,”

The doctor looks from Gyuri to B/N, “Um,”

“Gyuri, head on home. I’ll see you later, okay?” she nods and turns with her parents to leave.

B/N faces the doctor who looks at him unamused, “How many more women should I expect to receive tonight?”

“That should be it, I think. Will she be alright?” he asks.

The doctor nods, “Yes. But she’s suffered a fractured rib and a dislocated arm, along with other minor injuries. What exactly happened?”

“Thank you for your help doc,” B/N pats his arm and turns to leave as well.

“Wait, you’re leaving her? What’s her name? Who’s going to pay for this bill?”

B/N didn’t sign up for this. He liked her, well he was interested in her. But tonight went beyond what he imagined. But looking at her through the small door mirror, he realized that he couldn’t just leave her like this with nothing. He already went this far in saving her life, might as well keep going. He turns to the doctor, “I’ll be back. I’m just going to get her stuff,” 

He’s decided to head home for two reasons: check if the cops arrived and to finally go to sleep. But when he arrives, he sees that no one is even there. No trace of cops, and none of the men he fought. But he does see one security guard. 

“Did people get arrested tonight? Say around, three men?” he asks the security guard who’s name is Kyung. 

The guard shakes his head, “There was an officer that passed by. But he left with three men, they didn’t look like they were being arrested though,”  

B/N pauses for a moment, dialing the police, “Were people arrested last morning, say at around 4:00am?” 

“May I ask why you’re enquiring?” 

“I’m looking for my father. He’s usually out drinking at this time and he hasn’t returned home yet,” 

That gets the job done, “No. It’s been quiet all night,” 

A sense of discomfort looms over him. If the men weren’t arrested then what happened? 

“Can I see the security cameras?” he asks Kyung. 


“I think someone broke into my apartment and I just need to clarify some things,” 

“I can get fired for this,” 

“Come on Kyung,” he says nudging the chubby man. Nothing, “I’ll let you into my club free for a month,” That gets his attention but not his compliance, “And free drinks,” 

“For a month?”

“Yes,” B/N says through clenched teeth, his patience diminishing. 

Kyung looks around nervously before pulling B/N inside of the security office. He shows him the cameras on the 8th and 9th floor, back to the time of the fight. 

“Oh my God,” Kyung says leaning in close to the screen. 

“I told you,” B/N says, removing all suspicion. He sees the man and the woman fall down the steps. That would explain the dislocated arm and fractured rib. He starts to choke her, but she’s fighting with all she has. Finally, the man injects her in the leg and B/N finds that his jaw is clenched painfully tight from watching her struggle that way.

That’s when he arrives on the scene, “Wait, is that you?” 

“Am I the only person who wears all black, Kyung?” 

“Yeah but-” he looks at B/N attire. 

“Fast forward,” 

Kyung does and B/N sees when the officer heads inside. But he’s not arresting the men, he’s helping them. He takes them outside and then they’re gone. 

“I’m calling the police,” 

“That’s what I did,” 

“What do you mean?” 

B/N doesn’t reply. He pats Kyung’s shoulder, “Thanks. Free drinks and entrance for a month, as promised,” with that B/N heads back to his car, speeding back towards the hospital.

He pulls out his phone, dialing the one person who would understand the situation without needed information, “Lee, I need you to keep an eye on Gyuri for me,” 

“Got it,” he says.

You’re shocked to find yourself in a hospital. And you’re even more shocked to find a man sleeping in the room with you. His head is down and you slip out of the bed, careful not to wake him. He’s probably one of the men from last night. You see your clothes on the other side of the room and you quickly get dressed. You turn the doorknob, only to have it squeak in return. Of course.

“Hey, wait,” the man says once he wakes up. You pull the door open, racing down the hospital hall, searching for an exit, but the man has caught up to you and grabs you. 

“Help!” you scream but he clamps his hand over your mouth, looking at you hard.

“I’m the good guy,” he says, “I saved your life,” he further explains, “Those guys that were at your place were going to take you, do you understand?”

You nod, eyes wide as events from the night before return to memory, “I understand,” 

“Good. Now, would you like a ride somewhere?”

“I need to go home,” you reply, heading towards the exit. 

He stands in front of you, “You kind of can’t,”

“Why not?”

“They know where you live.” 

You stand there, your eyes burning in frustration, “Hey,” he says and you look at him, “It’s going to be all right,” 

You ignore his words dripping with false hope, “I have to go home,” 

He sighs before nodding, “All right. I’ll take you there,” 

You shake your head, “No, no. You’ve helped me enough and there’s no way I could repay you for this,” You give a slight bow before heading towards the hospital doors.

“We live in the same building, so I might as well take you there,” he says coming up beside you.

You turn to him, realizing you have no idea who this man is, “Who are you?” 

He holds out a hand to you, “I’m B/N,”

You take his hand gingerly, “Thank you, B/N,” with that you turn to leave again. 

“When someone gives you their name, you’re supposed to say yours back. It’s basic greeting courtesy,” you ignore him, “I called the police and-” 

“You what?” that gets your attention. 

“I called them but something was odd. The cop helped those guys.” 

“Of course. He’s on their side,” you say more to yourself than him.

You stand there for a moment, taking in the situation. You can’t stay home. You really have nowhere to go, and a friends place is out of the question. 

“Hello?” he says waving his hand in front of your face, “Still want to go home even though I’m recommending you not to?” 

You stand there, feeling helpless. But you need your passport, “Yes.”