#To be fair the semester break will be short this time

[marigoldenblooms]

An Important Lesson - One-Shot

Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint. 

A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again!  Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)

Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds.  Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners! ~~~ 

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were. 

Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad. 

You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long,  And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?

Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date. 

As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly. ------------------------------------------

Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam. 

“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?” 

You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.

------------------------------------------

“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces. 

You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”

Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”

“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”

“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”

“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat. 

“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.

“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?” 

You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat. 

“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer. 

“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that. 

“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”

“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.

Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.

Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-” 

You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it. 

“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again. 

“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?” 

If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”

“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk. 

“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.” 

Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes. 

And your secret?

You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.

#bearrrwrites #minors dni #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda smut #dom!wanda #sub!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #college au #one shot #smut fic #wlw ns/fw #god why was this so hard #once again #fuck it we ball

[torotauri]

Another Gym Buddy (18+) | Kwon Eunbi

Waring Sexual Content (18+) Read At Your Own Risk

Hyewon Gym Buddies Here

1436 words

***

Ever since your encounter with Kang Hyewon in the gym, you have been going out with her. Hyewon was the "It girl" of your university and you were very lucky that you can go out with her. It was nice to get back on the dating scene and most importantly gym sessions are more fun, especially when Hyewon gave you some incentives.

Moving towards the start of another year in university, you went back to the university so you can get a few gym sessions under your belt before university starts. However, your usual gym buddy Hyewon wasn't around campus this week which means you will have to hit the gym on your own this week.

Gym sessions alone were boring, especially when you are now used to having Hyewon around. There aren't anyone around because the semester hasn't officially started yet. However, it was something that you had to do so you plugged your earphones in and did your normal routine. After a while, you were finally done, sweaty and tired. You were prepared to finally go home, take a shower and have a break.

As you were heading out the empty gym, someone came in. It was Kwon Eunbi, one of the more open and popular girls in the university. She was always looking for fun with a very naughty side. Most importantly, Kwon Eunbi was famous for having the nicest rack in the university.

You can't help but stop and stare at her for a bit, especially when she was wearing a Calvin Klein sports bra.

"Like what you see?" Eunbi joked as she caught you staring at her.

"Oh hi Eunbi, didn't know you'd be here this early" you greeted back.

"Empty gym is my favourite place to be" Eunbi replied to you with a smirk.

Instantly you knew what she was up to, she was the famous Kwon Eunbi who knows how to use her body to get her way and today she was planning to use it on you.

"Well I'm going now, enjoy the very empty gym" you said as you were to leave.

However, as you were leaving, Eunbi grabbed your hand.

"Come with me sexy" Eunbi dragged you into the girls changing room.

You haven't been here for a very long while, but you certainly have fond memories from your last time here. It was in this very changing room that you first had sex with Kang Hyewon, where you started dating Hyewon. Despite the two of you not being exclusive you weren't so sure about what Kwon Eunbi has planned.

Eunbi sat you down on one of the changing benches and stood back up.

"Enjoy the show while it lasts pretty boy" Eunbi told you.

Eunbi then stood back a few steps and slowly took off her sports bra exposing her naked chest to you, before cupping her big boobs to making your already semi hard cock twitch inside your gym shorts.

"Do you like them huh? All the guys I've been with says I have nice big tits" Eunbi said in a seductive voice.

You can't answer, all you could do is nod and adjust your seating position so that your crotch area doesn't feel uncomfortable as your erection continued to grow.

All of a sudden, Eunbi then sat on your lap, her big tits right in your face. You were trying your hardest to not compare her rack and Hyewon's but it was not easy when both of them have a generous sized chest. But it wasn't really a fair comparison, Eunbi's boobs were way bigger than Hyewon's and you were desperate to give them a feel to make sure.

"Go on, you can touch them" Eunbi gave you the green light.

Immediately, you were let loose. Grabbing a handful of her breast before licking and sucking on the other. The sudden touch on Eunbi's breasts caused her to moan.

"C-careful, ah- they're sensitive" Eunbi moaned softly.

You ignored her as you continued to attack her tits with your hand and your mouth. Sucking and squeezing her nipples causing Eunbi to moan louder and louder. The more you feel her breasts, the more you feel how much bigger Eunbi's boobs were bigger than Hyewon's, it wasn't really a fair competition.

"W-w-wait, s- ah- stop" Eunbi suddenly moaned.

Reluctantly, you stopped all your actions wondering what Eunbi has planned next. But she didn't tell you, she used her actions to let you know what was coming up next.

Eunbi then kneeled down in front of you and slowly pulled your shorts down as she clumsily fished your cock out of your pants.

"Oh my, I think I'm going to enjoy this" Eunbi said as she smiled smiled and slowly stroked your cock.

"Fuck, yeah stroke it Eunbi" you said as you enjoyed Eunbi touching your already hard cock.

"Oh don't you worry. I'm going to so much more than just stroking it sexy" Eunbi said seductively.

With that Eunbi started kissing the tip of your cock and licking the slit causing you to jolt in pleasure before spitting and taking your whole cock into her mouth.

"Fuck that's so good" you moaned out as Eunbi started giving you a blowjob.

Eunbi's blowjob was sensational, the way she took your cock in and out of her warm and wet mouth. Occasionally licking the slit of your cock causing you to jolt in pleasure and never leaving the tip of your cock unattended by swirling around your head. It was magical and you were trying your best not to blow your load in Eunbi's mouth prematurely. As much as you wanted to cum, you also wanted to enjoy this blowjob as long as possible.

"F-fuck Eunbi, that thing you just did with your mouth nearly made me cum" you said as Eunbi swirled her tongue around the underside of your cock.

"Not so quick yet hot stuff" Eunbi said after releasing your cock from her mouth making a pop sound.

Your cock was already coated with Eunbi's saliva which acted perfectly as lubrication for what Eunbi was going to do next.

Eunbi shifted her body closer to you before spitting on your cock a bit more and trapping your cock in between her cleavage preparing to give you a good titty fucking.

"If you've enjoyed my mouth, let's see if you enjoy this" Eunbi said as she started moving her tits up and down your shaft.

"F-fuck it's about t-time you put those tits into good use" you moaned out as you started fucking Eunbi's tits.

The previous saliva from the blowjob made your cock well lubricated which means it was able to slide up and down Eunbi's tits smoothly giving you a sensation of pleasure as you continued to fuck her big tits.

Occasionally as your cock head poked out of her cleavage, Eunbi would lick the tip of your cock to give you just that little bit more pleasure trying to take you over the edge.

However, despite her big boobs, fucking her tits doesn't feel as good as her mouth. Nevertheless the constant rubbing of your cock in and out of her cleavage just provided enough pleasure to send you near your orgasm.

"Fu-f-fuck Eunbi I'm going to cum soon" you moaned out as you were very close to your peak.

Suddenly Eunbi stopped and took you back into her mouth. This time using her hand to stroke you whilst sucking you off. The pleasure of her stroking, her warm wet mouth and her tongue swirling was too much for you and shortly you were ready to blow your load inside Eunbi's mouth.

"F-f--fuck cumming-g-g" you moaned as you reached your orgasm.

As the first shot of semen shot inside Eunbi's mouth, Eunbi wrapped her lips tightly around your cock welcoming the next spurts of semen that your shot out from the tip of your cock. Eunbi took all the thick white liquid in her mouth like a champion. Once your orgasm died down, you pulled out of Eunbi and Eunbi opened her mouth to show you what you deposited into her mouth before closing her mouth swallowing the load in one gulp and showing that she has swallowed everything you gave her.

"I hope you have another load of that tasty semen prepared because I'm not done with you just yet pretty boy" Eunbi said after swallowing your load as she cupped your balls.

"Fuck that was so hot Eunbi" you said trying to gather some strength.

After that intense session, Eunbi put her clothes back on and pulled your pants back up.

"You're coming with me now" Eunbi said as you followed her out of the gym.

#kpop #kpop fanfic #kpopfanfic #kpop smut #kpop idols #kpop fanfiction #kpop fluff #izone eunbi #eunbi #kwon eunbi #eunbi smut #izone smut #izone

[eddywoww]

Eddie Munson is the defacto leader of a coed theater fraternity at his Uni. They’re a close knit bunch who have each others back at all times, even if the rest of their school might see them as a joke.

The only problem is that their meetings are historically usurped by the Alpha Phi frat house who happen to be placed right next to the classroom that they are forced to squeeze their meetings into. Do they get a frat house? No, of course not. It doesn’t help that Eddie has actual beef with the frats vice president, some floppy haired idiot he refuses to learn the name of (Steve Harrington) because he’s stolen Eddie’s parking space like five times since the semester began and he keeps stopping by their class, seemingly looking for Eddie (who definitely doesn’t dip out to hide every time, he’s not about to fight some sports scholarship kid)

It doesn’t help that the animosity between the two groups isn’t new. It doesn’t help that they’ve been fucking with each other years before Eddie even arrived at the Uni. It’s kind of a time honored tradition to try and get under each others skin.

So when Benny the Octopus goes missing one day, naturally, Eddie freaks the fuck out. That’s their octopus made of welded together scrap metal, thank you very much and he’s been in the theater for over a decade. They protect Benny, they love Benny. How did the frat even get their hands on him? And if you, like Robin, are bothering to ask “Why would you assume it was them, Eddie?” Then you can actually just shut the fuck up because it was definitely 100% them.

This entire ordeal leads to Eddie taking one for the team, obviously. Which further leads to Eddie sacrificing himself in the name of Benny to climb the short distance up the back of Alpha Sigmas stupid little frat house and into their second floor bathroom because it’s the only point of entry that Eddie can truly find that won’t get him automatically tackled to the ground. Could he go to a higher up and solve this problem without breaking and entering? Maybe. But that’s boring.

So he goes on his espionage recovery mission, realizing too late that maybe he isn’t the sneakiest person imaginable as he grapples with vines and barely manages to get solid footing on the ledged roof below him. And then he’s in the bathroom, pulling himself through the window and- right. It doesn’t matter that it’s 2 am. This is a frat house, Eddie. These are frat guys, why would they be asleep?

It’s with a big whopping holy fuck oh no what have I done, that Eddie falls through the window and onto the floor of a steamy, recently used bathroom. Because someone had been showering. Because said someone is standing there with a towel held firmly over his crotch, a deer in headlights expression marking his face as brunette hair drips onto his chest.

And Eddie has no clue what to do because being faced with a naked, let alone wet Steve Harrington is doing things to his brain (and his dick) that he can’t really handle.

And then Steve opens his mouth to blurt out “Whyareyouinmybathroom pleasedonthurtme!” And okay, that’s maybe a little dramatic. Which Eddie tells him, before realizing that he is in fact wearing a ski mask. So like, fair. But then it clicks on Steve’s face and he relaxes fast into a bitchy frown. “You’re that fucking theater kid, aren’t you?”

Which, okay. Eddie wasn’t aware Steve even knew him.

He makes his way off the floor and “I’d offer to shake your hand but uh-“ Steve turns bright red and winds the towel around his waist as quickly as possible. Right. Down to business. “I want Benny back.” Which, as it turns out, Steve feigns like he has no clue who Benny even is. Rude. “Big, metal, kind of looks like shit.”

Steve could not get any redder as Eddie tries to explain himself in a roundabout way, not at all going into a tangent about his distaste for the frat while Steve drips onto the floor. And then-

“I have no clue what you’re talking about and it sounds like you have weird one sided beef because I have never intentionally done anything to upset you.”

And that’s just- that is not true. That’s not true. At all.

“You steal my parking space!”

“They’re not assigned!”

“It’s a respect thing and you keep coming to my meetings, looking for me by name! Which is weird by the way!”

“I wanted your number!”

As soon as Steve blurts it out, he clams right up and Eddie just- he just- “You wanted my number?” Because that’s inconceivable. That doesn’t make sense. “Why didn’t you just ask for it?”

“Because you hide every time I try to find you!” Steve blurted out again, eyes squeezed shut like he was genuinely embarrassed and right. He was naked and maybe had a crush on Eddie? Which was- yeah, Eddie wanted to touch him now. But he wanted to be cautious too. So he made his way closer slowly, trying to give Steve an out. He really was so pretty close up, a fact that Eddie had been trying desperately to deny for so long now.

Eddie reached up and pulled his stupid mask off, staring at Steve as his eyes opened back up, tentative and stressed.

“You could ask me for it now,” Eddie said with a small grin, lips upturned as Steve chewed on his bottom lip. “I might say yes.”

Steve rolled his eyes, reaching up to smack Eddie across the back of his head. Eddie caught his hand and pulled him into an unmasked kiss.

#my fic #blurbs

[jamneuromain]

Straight-A Student

Andy Barber x You / Reader

Warning: Smut, Fluff and Smut, a lil angst?, Alternate Universe - College / University, Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor!Andy Barber, Student!Reader, Student!You, Pet Names (sweetheart, baby, sweet girl, sweet thing), Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, spanking, talking about Dom/Sub, implied Dom/Sub, authority kink, choking if you squint, possessive Andy Barber, rough sex

Word count: 3k

Summary: You argue with Andy, during your ninth date.

A/N: Part of the conversation came up by @rogerswifesblog <3

Dancing in the Daydream M. List

“Hey,” Andy breaks your kiss, lips tracing your forehead, muttering your name. He is panting because of the passionate kiss you shared, “… I should probably drive you home.”

You wish you could contain your anger. You really wish you could.

“What the HELL, Andy?” You snap, swatting away his arm around your waist, “WHAT THE HELL?”

To be fair, you have every reason to be angry with him.

This is the third time when he pushes you away during a heated kiss, either saying ridiculous shit about “driving you home” or waving you goodbye in front of your apartment.

This is the ninth date! NINE fucking dates and two months. That’s where you are, kissing.

And only kissing plus something PG-13.

“Is there something wrong with me? Or…” something’s wrong with Andy, but you didn’t say that out loud, “are we a thing?” You ask, unable to understand why the second before sex he’ll push you away, “why’d you do that?”

Of all the boys you’ve dated, no one made it past the fourth date and still didn’t mention sex.

Apart from Andy, apparently, who is not just any “boy”.

No, he is your fucking professor from last semester. And since classes are over, one encounter in the pub turns into more, which turns into dates, which turns you head over heels for him, which leads you to this precise moment.

Andy tries to hold your hand. Judging by your hurt expression, he lowers his palm to your knees. “N-No! I mean we’re…There’s nothing wrong with you.” He licks his lips, stuttering to explain.

“Then what the hell Andy? I like you and want to have sex with you.” You sigh in frustration, looking down at the short sundress barely covering half your thigh.

It is a cute sundress, light blue, with white daisies patterns. You choose this dress tonight with sex in mind-why else would he ask you to come to his house “for dinner”?

Now you despise your own interpretation of his invitation.

“For dinner” actually means “dinner” and no sex.

Har Har. Joke’s on you.

Andy massages your bare skin with his palm gently. He doesn’t even attempt his hands to go a bit higher under your dress, only warming your knees with his hand. “It’s not you-please,” he trips over his words, “I-I like you too, it’s just…”

You’ve had enough, “one last chance, Andy, or I’m walking out of this door.”

You set a ten-second countdown silently.

Nine.

Eight.

What’s the worse that could happen? He has erectile dysfunction?

Seven.

He visibly gulps, looking more nervous than before.

Six.

Andy? Nervous?

Five.

Four.

Looks like you are walking out of that door after all. You glance at your handbag, planning for an exit.

Three.

Brilliant. You will never date anyone older than you ever again.

Two.

You are only making yourself look bad by pushing him.

One.

Great.

“I-” “I have… needs.” You and Andy speak simultaneously. His voice lower, hesitant. He realizes he’s cutting off your words, mumbling a quiet “sorry”.

You are perplexed, to say the least. “Needs…? Sure. What needs?”

Andy looks like a balloon, full of air a minute ago when you were kissing, but now, the air drained, “I… I like to be dominant during sex. I like,” he swallows a lump down his throat, unable to meet your eyes, “holding my partner still, I like telling them what to do.”

The words are weighing him down, instead of up. The more he speaks, the more his heart dies.

“I like going rough. Leave marks on them. Bruises.”

Every sentence feels like torture.

“I want to discipline my partner.” The proper word is, “…spanking. I want control.” He winces.

Silence.

He knows he is going to regret it by the morning, when the headline of the university news would be “Professor Andy Barber, A Sadist in Life AND Sex”.

You are completely awe-struck for a minute.

You weren’t expecting this.

Not even a little.

But damn didn’t what he confessed make you feel things.

Good things.

First, you need to make this clear, “you are into BDSM … stuff?”

“Dom/Sub and bondage. Yes.”

More silence.

He is ruined.

He is completely over.

He messed up the chance with you.

Andy buries his face in his hands, hoping it could make things easier if he doesn’t see you walk away.

“Spanking, as if, the kind of spanking we get as a kid?” You swallow thickly, feeling your pussy clench with his response.

“Yes.”

It takes your whole body not to shake at his words.

“Can we… umm, try that?” You whisper.

Andy raises his head from his palms, turning to look at you, “I’m sorry?”

This must be a dream.

He is dreaming.

He pinches his wrist to make sure he is in the real world.

A sharp pain nearly has him yelp.

For Christ’s sake, you are asking him to spank you.

He returns your question with another, “you tried spanking before?”

Honestly? No.

You’ve had sex before, that’s for sure. Plain vanilla. Sometimes you have to fake your own orgasm to protect their fragile ego.

There’s nothing wrong with vanilla. It’s fine. It’s only a bit dull. Like there’s something missing. Something you’ve read about, “la petite mort”, dying a little. You’ve always wondered what’s it like.

No, you have never tried spanking before. But your unsettling heartbeat in your ears tells you it might be the solution to what you are looking forward to. To be put down. Maybe a little fight and struggle. To be taken.

“No, but I want to give it a shot.” You admit shyly. You blush from head to toe. The air in his apartment suffocating you. Heating you. Wrapping a hand around your neck – no, wait, that’s Andy. Andy caresses your jawline with his thumb, his blue eyes blown wide, and he nods, “before we get anything started, you need a safe word. It can’t be ‘no’ or ‘stop’, that could confuse me with you actually wearing out. Pick something short and irrelevant to sex. When you say it, it means a full stop to whatever I’m doing. Something you can remember and pronounce clearly. Something like fruit? Apple?”

“Yeah, apple sounds good.”

“Okay.” He pecks your lips, then orders you with a soft voice, “lie across my lap. On your stomach.”

He holds on to your shoulder to help you lie down. His jeans feel rough, even with a thin piece of dress between your body and his.

You don’t know where to put your arms, when he rubs the back of your neck and tells you to get comfortable.

You put your arms above your head, touching the soft material of the couch.

He moves your body slightly, for your ass to perch up.

“It’s all about relaxing.” He runs a hand down your bare thigh, warming the cool skin under his palm. He explains calmly what he is going to do, when the muscles on your waist are no longer tense, and your body gains a rhythmic speed of breathing, “I’m going to spank you ten times. Start with a small swat, and I will go harder. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes.” You reply shakily.

“Shhh. Don’t be scared, sweet thing.” He lands a kiss on your spine, his hand still massaging your thighs, his other hand spread over your upper back, giving you the soothing warm you need, his voice dropping to a whisper, “you can always safe word when it’s too much.”

Your body melts to his touch.

“One more thing.” He mutters, “could you be a good girl for me and count your spanking?”

The first slap is nothing more than a small pat on your right cheek. Even so, you count as he asked you to: “One.”

“One, Sir.” He corrects you, flipping the thin piece of dress to your waist as you unmistakably feel his shaft hardens under your soft stomach.

Bet he didn’t see your black lacy panties coming, huh?

“One, Sir.” You repeat what he says, biting your lower lip to stiffen a giggle.

The next blow comes harder to your bare flesh. A smack with no actual force. There’s not even a sting.

“Two, Sir.” You breathe steadily as he trails his left hand up and down your spine.

Somehow, you know the next blow is a real spanking instead of the last two playful swats.

A patch of sting blooms on your right cheek when he lands the third smack, dissipating quickly into your skin.

You let out a small squeal, “three, Sir.”

Your clit is aching for some touch. You press your thighs together for some comfort, but he stops your squirming with a warning pinch on your thigh.

“None of that.” He tuts, a hint of dominance in his voice, “getting needy, are you?”

Your whimper turns into another squeal when the fourth smack meets your cheek. The sting leaves for a longer period of time, still not truly painful.

“I asked you a question. I expect you to answer, sweetheart.” Andy squeezes your cheek with his fingers, kneading your ass as the pain grows fainter.

You grab onto the smooth sofa surface. The tinge of pain blooms into your wetness down your core. You crave something more at your entrance. Something stronger. Something harder.

“Four, Sir. Yes, Sir.” Your face flushed-red, abashed by your confession.

You yelp as the final blow to your right cheek paint your ass pink, even only for a couple of seconds. You forget all about counting his smacks as the buzz of pleasure leaves your body. Andy’s palm massages your tender skin slowly, turning you around to face him, “is that too tense for you, sweet girl?” His eyes nothing short of worry and concern, cerulean blue orbs filled with warmth.

His action speaks more than his words: Did he hurt you? Does he need to stop? Do you need to safe word?

“No. I’m good.” A shy smile hanging on the corner of your lips, “Sir.”

Andy closes his eyes and groans, “you’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.”

He flips you over with one fluid motion, delivering the next five smacks on your ass as promised. He watches as your skin blooms with pink traces of his spanking, clenching his teeth when you count each one. His cock strained in his boxers, painfully hard. He wants to paint your pink ass with his cum, the milky substance drips down your thigh, making a mess on…

“Can I have some more… Sir?” You look over your shoulders, lifting your body from his lap slightly, “a little harder, maybe?” You chew on your lower lip, in anticipation of his answer.

You crave more, after your spanks. His blows are not enough. You want his hands to come down just a little harder. And deep down, you can tell he is still holding back. Probably because he’s afraid of scaring you.

Yet you want it.

You want him behind this façade. You want him for all he is. You want to see the worst he can do to you.

You are so excited about his unfiltered dominance.

Andy chokes on your request, but huffs out a laugh.

They were married for ten years, and Laurie refused his dominance for ten years.

Laurie never wanted any of this. Laurie never liked any of this. Laurie thought BDSM was sick.

Not like young people saying skateboards and weed kind of “sick”.

The other kind.

The bad kind.

So, he hid that side of him away from her, tucked it into a dark corner in his mind, locked it, and threw away the key.

While you.

You found the key.

You unleashed the beast inside him.

Feeding it more of your given-up control.

He nudges your elbow to have you lie back in place, and mutters, “since you’ve asked so nicely… three each. Be a good girl and remind me of your safe word, will you?”

“Apple.”

“God you’re perfect.” He combs your hair to the side, rubbing circles on your back, planting a small kiss on your lower waist.

A loud smack has your body spasm, your nails bite into your palm, and you wince for the first time.

This is exactly what you need. What you want. What you crave.

“One, Sir.”

The sharp pain spreads with the numbing sensation. The shade of dark pink stays on your skin. Pain blend into pleasure, shooting sparks down your core. Andy kneads your ass until it doesn’t hurt anymore, which is only a matter of seconds.

Smack.

“Two, Sir.”

He could see the palmprint, covering the previous spank, leaving a beautiful pink imprint. He doesn’t wait to deliver the third blow.

“Ah-Three, Sir.”

Your ass is numb. Smack overlapping smack is both pleasure and torture to your delicate skin.

Three more smacks on your other cheek, and you know your core is leaking. The wet patch of lace clings to your soaking pussy, making you want to squirm.

“Fuck.” He pulls you close to sit on his lap, devouring you in a searing kiss, “fuck, you’re so good for me baby.” Andy rests his forehead with yours. Your pussy grinds over his bulge, when his hand kneads your ass. “I want you, Andy,” you moan into his mouth, your lips burning for his beard, but that’s what you want, “I want you, Sir. Please.”

Succumbing to his needs. Succumbing to his wish.

He makes it all so easy.

He makes you thirsty for more.

Andy wants to take you, right here, right now.

Rip you to pieces just to put you back together.

But no. The Couch isn’t the nicest place to take you.

“Bed.” He pants into your hair, kissing your temple, “bedroom.”

A tangled mess of limbs, groping, and kissing brings the both of you to his bed.

You are out of the restraints of your clothes in no time, eager to pull him down for more kisses, dragging him down, grasping the base of his neck, clawing his back.

Even if you are occupied with his kisses, your hands tell you all about his body.

He is built. Strong. Muscles flex under your touch. He has pecs, but you don’t bother counting them with your fingers, reaching for his shaft. Pumping it in your hand.

His thick girth twitches, oozing pre-cum, damping your palm, when he looks you in the eyes. Lip swollen, pupils blown, Andy gazes into your eyes, breathing out one single thing: ”Safe word?”

“I’m good. No need.” You giggle to pull him to your lips again, when he flips you over single-handedly, his shaft pressing against your ass. The pink shade on your skin long gone.

He puts a condom on, before covering your body with his, your back to his chest, “fuck, I want to spank your ass sore till you can’t sit on a damn chair without thinking about me.” He pushes himself into your tight channel entirely, hissing, groaning, kissing your shoulder and neck.

It is a fucking dream come true.

You pinned under his large frame, taken, fucked. Fisting the sheets, the pillows, his arm, his bicep. Your hips arched up, being pounded into. His balls smacking your clit. His hand sneaks around your throat, holding your chin so he can kiss your neck easier. His other hand holding your waist, gripping so hard it might bruise.

He doesn’t care.

No, he cares. He wants bruises. He wants you sore. He wants you pumped full of cum.

Slick runs down your thighs, gushes out of your pussy.

You have never been fucked this hard.

Tears slide down your cheeks, dampen your hairline, as you are being rutted into. His tip brushes your cervix. Ramming you into the mattress.

Rearranging your guts.

“Jesus. Fuuuck-” You moan into the sheets – his hand when he starts losing grip. When your bodies are slick with sweat. When his hand slide to your chin.

You didn’t mean to dart out your tongue, but you taste the salty sweat in his palm. Engulfed in his cologne.

You suck on his finger. His thumb, to be precise. Toying it with your tongue and swollen lips. Biting it when he rams into you.

He sputters a curse, “fuck, you’re trouble.”

Andy smears your saliva on your lips and your chin, pulling out his thumb so that he could hear your moans and whimpers, “poor pussy will be ruined tomorrow.” He rasps into your ear, “tell me, who’s making you feel this good?”

“You, Andy.” You choke on a scream, “you. Sir. Professor. You.”

He rams into you harder every time you squeak a new word for him, for all of him.

He bites your shoulder and rubs harshly on your clit, his dick twitching, cumming, shooting ropes of cum into the thin piece of rubber. Your walls pulsate. Creaming his dick. White hot pleasure burns to the very tip of your nerves.

He quickly throws away the condom before climbing back onto the bed with you. Panting. Breathing rapidly. Having an arm around your shoulders as you flip yourself over on your back.

“You did great, baby.” He murmurs to your hair, kissing the top of your head. He knows it probably doesn’t bother you anymore, but he has to ask, “does your ass still hurt?”

“No.” You rub your chin on his bicep, looking into his warm blue eyes, “not bad yourself, Professor Barber.” You smirk, teasing him a little, “you make a great teacher. Even outside of class.”

He chuckles at your words, capturing your wandering hand for a kiss, “well, I’d give you a B+ or even an A. Though we should probably work on your-”

You smack his arm, “ANDY!”

“OH, okay. B then, for your attitude.” He raises his brows to your “challenge”, earning another playful smack.

You push yourself up on your elbow, hogging most of the sheet because he annoys you, “is there any chance to…” your fingers circle his chest in a seductive way, “I don’t know… argue my marks?”

Andy pulls you down for a kiss, grinning in contentment with you in his arms, “lemme see your efforts. Perhaps I’ll change my mind for my favorite straight-A student.”

#andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #defending jacob #professor andy barber #student reader #possessive andy barber #andy barber fluff #andy barber fanfiction #dancing in the daydream #straight a student

[zoeysdamn]

Bloodied petals - Xavier Thorpe x reader | Epilogue

A/N: /!\ Hold up! did you read Part.8?? Also, bonus aesthetic to celebrate the last part of this fic!

[Masterlist] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4] [Part.5] [Part.6] [Part.7] [Part.8]

Three weeks later

Nevermore closed its doors sooner than usual. After the passing of Principal Weems, the semester had to be cut short, which meant a longer spring break for the students. Most of them were secretly glad of it, and to be fair Xavier was among them. The reason for this elongated holiday was dreadful, but a break from school could do him some good. Standing in the passageway of the first floor above the quad, he gazed at the crowd of students getting ready to go home. He made a mental note to bid Ajax goodbye before his friend left. 

 “Hello Xavier,” greeted a voice beside him. 

He turned his head to the side to be greeted by the sight of a woman cladded in a very sophisticated black outfit, dramatic black hat and sunglasses. She looked intimidating, but he knew better. “Hello Miss Cordelia,” he greeted your aunt. “I didn’t know you were picking up Y/N.”

“I’m not,” she said flatly, “but I wanted to make sure of a few things.”

 Approaching the ledge she followed Xavier’s eyes fixated on you, currently hugging Enid goodbye, no doubt promising to text her during the holiday break. 

 “Does she remember anything?” asked your aunt in a surprising soft tone. 

“Of the disease? Most of it. About me, she remembers more and more every day,” said Xavier, not tearing his gaze away from you. 

Aunt Cordelia hummed pensively, in appreciation. A long moment of silence followed, before Xavier spoke up again. 

“How is that even possible?” he asked your aunt, “I thought removing the flower with a surgical operation would make her forget about me completely.” 

Your aunt sighed, indicating how little she knew about this too, “I don’t know. That’s why I wanted to come here, the doc had said that during the surgery, the flowers’ roots were already not clutched around the lungs and heart anymore.”

Xavier frowned, not getting where she was getting at, “Why does it matter?”

“It’s the forceful removal of the roots that triggers the memory loss,” explained the elder witch. “Or we think it’s the source of it. But given that he hadn’t to tear it out…I’m wondering if that’s why she still has some memories of you.” 

At her words, Xavier’s eyes widened slightly, “You think she can actually remember everything one day?”

“It’s possible,” shrugged Cornelia, “after all, you said it yourself, her memory is recovering day by day.” 

 His heart thumped in excitement at the prospect. Xavier had dared to imagine this possibility but…hearing someone else confirming his theory was something else entirely. 

 Fixing her sunglasses on her nose, your aunt continued, “I’ve spoken to a certain Miss Bianca Barclay, I assume you’re familiar with her?”. At Xavier’s nod she continued, “She told me what she had done for Y/N with her siren’s song; it’s most likely that’s what caused the flowers and their roots to retreat from around her heart.”

“You mean that Bianca might actually have saved Y/N?” said Xavier in surprise. 

Aunt Cordelia eyed him from head to toe and let out a small laugh, “Well, her, you, Miss Sinclair and that new roommate of hers. So thank you, Xavier.” 

 His eyebrows rose up in surprise. For as long as he had known your aunt, Xavier couldn’t remember the last time she had actually thanked someone. Witches’ pride or something like that. 

 “I must go,” she said sharply before Xavier could add anything. “Take care of my niece Xavier.”

“I will,” he assured. 

She offered him a thin smile before rummaging in her hand bag, “Oh one second, here,” she said, handing him a small vial, “as a thanks.”

“What is this?” he frowned. 

“It’ll help to get the last petals out,” she explained and let out a small snort at Xavier’s expression painted in surprise. “You must be in the end of the healing process now, according to the petals you cough.”

“How did you…?”

“Oh honey, you’re not half subtle as you think you are,” she said with a sweet voice, before turning serious again, “At least I can content myself at the thought you had a taste of what she went through for you.” Xavier’s wince made her brush away her last bitter comment with a vague gesture of her hand. “But you’re healing; the more she remembers how much she loves you, the more you heal. Knowing her,” she said, casting one last fond look at your figure downstairs, “it won’t be long.” 

 With that, she disappeared to a nearby corridor. For a few seconds Xavier stood on his spot in astonishment, but then chuckled at your aunt’s antics. Grabbing his backpack he walked down the stairs, where he saw you talking with Wednesday from afar. He couldn’t hear what you were saying but you both seemed cordial to each other. You even handed her a wrapped box, giving her a phone. Wednesday didn’t hug you, but a tiny smile definitely crept on her face before she turned and walked away sharply. Taking this as his cue, Xavier strolled next to you, sliding an arm around your waist and dropping a kiss on your forehead when he came by your side. 

 “Hey,” he said softly, “you’re good?”

Smiling at him you nodded, “Yep. I think that Wednesday and I needed to bury the war hatchet.”

“Did it work?” 

“She did try to kill Crackstone to save us,” you admitted. “And she apologized, the counts are even. And maybe I’ll miss my creepy roommate after all,” you added with a playful nudge on his side. 

 Xavier let out a laugh, and the two of you made your way to the school’s gates. While you packed your bags in the trunk of the car Xavier’s dad had sent for the two of you, you stopped for an instant and looked back at the school. It had become your house over the years, but more importantly it had brought you a sense of normality even among werewolves, sirens and vampires. It has brought you friends, and so much more. 

 You felt Xavier’s hand sliding into yours. 

 “You okay?” he asked softly. 

 Looking up at him, you gazed deeply into his brown eyes. This, this place, this moment, was what made everything click altogether, and all the things that have seemed fuzzy fall into place. 

 “I love you,” you breathed out. 

 The grin on Xavier’s face was everything. 

 “I love you too sweetheart,” he said before kissing you softly. 

 The annoyed honk from the car made you pull away a few seconds later, giggling like kids and you tugged on Xavier’s hand to the vehicle. In your newfound euphoria, you missed the faint cough coming from him, but it didn’t matter. As the car led the both of you away from the school, the last petal Xavier would ever cough laid on the cobblestone of Nevermore.

A/N: Aaaand there it is! The last part of the fic finally out! :DD I hope you enjoyed it and that the ending didn’t disappointed you too much! 

I really want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of you, finishing a fic is always like a sort of sad goodbye and I swear I’m crying a little by writting those words. 

I loved writting every parts, but more than that I loved exchanging and talking with you about it, whether for crack thoughts, or theories! You were incredible and the kindest readers I could ever ask for, so thanks a billion time for your support and you kindness! (especially your tolerance for my crappy English, it’s the first time I’m cristing something this long in such a short time, in a language which isn’t my mother tongue!)

Thank you for the laughs, the cry, the crazy demands to be tagged (we have 119 tagged people!! This is insane for me!!), and if you ever want to rant or talk about the fic, or anything in general, I’m always here! 

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

-Zoey

Taglist: (no need to ask at every chapter, you're added once, and you're added for the whole fic :D)

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Usernames unfound by Tumblr:  

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#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier x reader #xavier x y/n #xavier thorpe angst #xavier thrope imagine #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #hanahaki disease #no beta we die like men

[epochofbelief]

Strictly Confidential: Chapter Five

A Modern Feysand AU

She’s a law student turned confidential informant. He’s a federal prosecutor with one goal: bringing down her boyfriend for his white collar crimes. What could go wrong?

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long everyone. Life is... insane. But it's spring break, so I finally had the time and energy to devote to this. It's kind of long, so fair warning ;) Also, I did just spend four straight hours writing and editing this so if there are typos… there are typos💓

Strictly Confidential Masterlist

My Other (Completed) Feysand AU Fic: What to Expect When You're (Not) Expecting

Chapter Five:

A week after Feyre told Azriel she would turn informant against her partner, she still hadn't heard from the FBI.

And her week only grew worse with every passing day. Her professors had hit the mid-semester stride, assigning longer and longer readings. She continued to receive invitations to networking events and all manner of schmoozing and boozing opportunities from her future firm. Various midterm writing assignments were ramping up, and she had just finished a particularly brutal round of citation checks for the Law Review legal journal on which she was a staff editor.

Her only saving grace had been Tamlin’s obvious exhaustion. He left the apartment before Feyre woke up and returned long after she fell asleep.

If it had been any other way, Feyre wasn’t sure how she would have survived the week. The thought of Tamlin touching her sent shivers down her spine and images of what Rhys’s younger sister might look like spinning through her head. Did Tamlin know about what had been done to keep his secret? How involved was he in the more violent aspects of his criminal enterprise?

The questions were endless, and yet Feyre had no one to ask. She was supposed to be the one finding answers, anyway.

And while she desired to put a stop to Tamlin's crimes, she couldn't help but find it ironic that this was just one more thing that had come to rest on her shoulders.

And the FBI didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry, Feyre thought irritably as she waved Tamlin out the door on Thursday night. He had come home early to pack a bag—once again leaving town for the weekend. On business.

Feyre let him press a kiss to his cheek, then shut the door on his back, doing her best not to slam it.

She turned and leaned against the wood, scrubbing her face with her hands. If the FBI didn’t tell her what to do soon, she would forget about the deal and break up with Tamlin. Move back in with her family. It would mean adding a job to her academic workload, but she didn’t think she would survive more than a few months in her family’s house. Nesta would freeze her out until she needed something. Elain's perpetually present boyfriend disliked Feyre for some reason. Her father wouldn’t know what to do with her.

Feyre sighed, then jumped as a knock on the door behind her head reverberated through her skull.

“Did you forget something?” She asked, flinging open the door, expecting to find a harried-looking Tamlin on the other side.

Instead, she came face-to-face with Rhysand, a stunning blonde woman next to him.

“Oh,” Feyre squeaked.

Rhysand grimaced at her, dressed once again in all-black suit, tailored perfectly to his muscular body. Though he looked more casual than Feyre had ever seen him—his usual black tie was missing, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone. Feyre swallowed, averting her eyes from his tanned upper chest and violet eyes, instead surveying the blonde.

The woman was also clad in all-black, her blazer buttoned around a narrow waist, a short pencil skirt emphasizing long, tanned legs. Her blonde hair cascaded over both shoulders, and her lips, coated in a bright red lipstick, tugged into a smile.

Perhaps this was Rhys’s partner? Feyre’s eyes snapped back to Rhys’s at the thought, as if she would find the answer there.

“As much as I would love to stand here and watch you two stare at each other, the hall is a little exposed. May we come in, Feyre?” The blonde asked, brushing past Feyre without waiting for an answer, disappearing into the apartment behind her.

“You came,” Feyre breathed.

Rhys cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry it took so long.”

“Would you two get the hell in here?” The woman’s voice sounded from behind Feyre.

Rhys grimaced again, gesturing for Feyre to lead the way into the apartment. “Please excuse my cousin, Morrigan Underwood. She’s one of the best the FBI has to offer, but most days she’s just a pain in my…” Rhys trailed off, and Feyre couldn’t help but grin as Morrigan extended a manicured hand toward her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Feyre,” Morrigan said, smiling warmly down at her. Morrigan was tall, and the heels only added to her height. Next to the beautiful FBI agent, Feyre felt short and grubby in her socked feet next and oversized t-shirt. “Sorry to barge in on you. We got lucky tonight—video cameras are down. So we thought we would come to you.”

“Just luck?” Feyre asked, folding her arms and leaning against the kitchen island.

Morrigan and Rhys exchanged a glance. “Luck with a little help from Azriel,” Morrigan admitted, shrugging.

Gods, they really were the FBI, Feyre thought, walking around the kitchen island and opening the fridge. “Can I offer either of you—a water? Or something else?”

“We don’t want to trouble you,” Rhys said, at exactly the same moment Morrigan said, “Absolutely. Tamlin took forever to leave, and even though someone knew there would be a stake-out, he didn't think to stock refreshments in his car.” Her brown eyes cut to Rhys.

“Mor,” Rhys groaned.

Feyre smiled to herself as she retrieved three bottles of sparkling water from the fridge and returned to the living room, sitting in the armchair across from the couch where Rhys and Mor had seated themselves.

“Nice place,” Mor commented, her eyes scanning the room appreciatively. “Very . . . minimalist.”

Feyre shrugged. “It’s not exactly to my tastes, but thank you.”

Feyre ignored Mor’s cocked eyebrow and the crease that formed between Rhys’s eyebrows at her words. She cleared her throat. “So. Care to share why you’re here?”

Mor popped the top off her water and sank back into the plush white couch, lifting the drink toward Rhys. “You’re up, cousin.”

Rhys leaned forward on the couch, his own water forgotten on the sleek coffee table in front of him. Feyre couldn’t figure out where to look as she waited for him to speak. His large hands, clasped in front of him. The sliver of exposed skin just below his neck. Those violet eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul.

She settled for his forehead as Rhys began to speak. “You took a risk last week, going into Spring Solutions without backup. If something had happened to you in there, we would have had no way of knowing.”

Feyre folded her arms. “I thought you wanted me to gather information for you. How am I supposed to do that if I can’t go anywhere without an escort?”

“Backup doesn’t necessarily mean an escort.”

-----

Two hours later, Feyre’s mind was about to explode with all the information Rhys and Mor had drilled into her head. They had provided her with a wire, an earpiece that she could hear and speak to them through, an exhaustive explanation of how dangerous being an informant was, and a briefing on proper reporting and contacting methods she would have to engage in when reaching out to the FBI.

She drew the line at the bulletproof vest Mor retrieved from her bag.

“Where am I supposed to hide that?” Feyre demanded. “The tech is enough.”

Mor and Rhys exchanged a glance. “Feyre…” Rhys trailed off, his eyes searching her face.

“You make me take that and this whole thing is over before it began.”

Rhys held up his hands. “Alright. But if you dream up any more ridiculous plans to go into the heart of enemy territory, you contact us first. We’ll get it to you.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. She didn’t envision herself getting shot any time soon.

“Lastly,” Mor said. “Here’s the address of our future meeting place.” She handed Feyre a scrap of paper. “Memorize it and then destroy it. You can get there by train, so transport isn’t a problem. You’ll have to switch trains about halfway there, but that’s your opportunity to determine if you’re being followed. If you have any suspicion whatsoever that someone is on your tail, do not go to the safe house. Just board a train back in the direction of the city.”

Feyre looked down at the address. “How often will we be meeting?”

“Only as often as necessary. You let us know through that earpiece and we’ll arrange it. Best not to create any new strange habits that people might notice. Memorize.”

Feyre nodded, swallowing the sudden wave of anxiety cresting through her. She was truly doing this. Working for the FBI. Attempting to inifiltrate a strange and possibly deadly organization. Betraying her boyfriend—the man who had fed her and housed her for the better part of her law school experience.

Mor cleared her throat, glancing at her watch. “I’ve got a meeting. Finish up here, Rhys?”

Rhys nodded, clapping his cousin on the shoulder as she stood, extending her hand once more to Feyre. “Good luck, Feyre. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again very soon.” Feyre nodded, and Mor paused, her manicured hand squeezing Feyre’s. “Do try not to get caught.”

Then she was gone.

Leaving Feyre and Rhysand alone in the enormous, stark apartment.

“Is there much more?” Feyre asked, forcing herself to keep her arms at her sides rather than swinging them in the awkward silence.

“No, but—” Rhys halted midsentence as Feyre slumped into the enormous white armchair next to the window, relieved to hear those words coming from Rhys’s mouth. She honestly hadn’t been sure if she could take much more.

Her entire relationship was a lie—everything was a lie. She had trusted Tamlin with her safety. With her nights and days and most of the time in between. He had given her a place to stay after years spent under her family’s influence.

And yet.

“He’s been lying to me,” Feyre muttered, more to herself than Rhysand, who had leaned closer to her as her thoughts spiraled deeper and deeper. “This whole time.”

Her eyes drifted down from the ceiling, locking instead with Rhys’s blue eyes, drinking her in from his position on the couch.

“I never knew,” she said softly. “I never even suspected. You must think I’m some kind of idiot.”

A muscle fluttered in Rhys’s jaw, and he shook his head, one hand extending toward her as if to rest it on her knee. But he thought better of it, instead clasping his hands between his knees. “On the contrary. I’ve spent a year investigating Tamlin and he's slipped through my fingers every time. It’s no surprise you never knew."

Feyre bent over her knees, hands covering her face. “How long will it take?”

Rhys cleared his throat, thankfully understanding her meaning. “It depends. The more and better information we get, the easier it will be to charge him.”

When Feyre didn’t respond, Rhys continued.

“But if you want out, Feyre, say the word. We—I—would never dream of forcing you to stay in this relationship just for our purposes. There would be no hard feelings if you changed your mind.”

Feyre’s hands slid from her face, and she returned Rhys’s stare with one of her own. “No.”

“No?”

“I want to do this. I have to do this. If what you say is true, Tamlin is the reason your sister—and who knows how many others who knew too much—are gone. I can’t stand by and watch that happen. Can’t leave him knowing about the horrible things he is causing, or at least sanctioning.”

She could have sworn a glimmer of pride shone in Rhys’s eyes as he surveyed her. And despite everything, despite the loss of his sister and the investigation and the potential threat to Feyre’s life, he smiled.

“Then let’s bring that bastard down.”  

Feyre couldn’t resist the grin she shot back.

-----

A week later, some of that excitement had died down. Tamlin had been at work around the clock, busy with various “projects” as he described them to Feyre. However, he had revealed that his next out-of-town venture would take place in late October—just a few weeks away. And Feyre was determined to discover the destination. So in addition to her studies and checking in every so often with the FBI through her earpiece, she spent the wee hours of the morning combing through Tamlin's computer in secret, digging through his bags and looking through his phone for anything that might reveal his future plans.

She continued to come up empty-handed.

But she didn't intend to give up, even though her exhaustion grew worse with every passing day. Feyre resolved to take a break from her sleuthing that night as she walked to another networking event, this one just a few blocks from her apartment.

She arrived in her best black suit, pencil skirt just brushing the tops of her knees, black tights beneath warding off the crisp fall air. She had spent extra time on her hair that evening—adding a little extra dry shampoo, teasing the golden-brown strands into a gentle curl at the ends. She even went so far as to add an extra layer of mascara before she came to her senses.

There was only one reason Feyre was putting in this extra effort, despite the minuscule chance that the reason would even be present at the mixer.

United States Attorneys surely had better things to do than attend every attorney/law-student networking event in the city.

And besides. Feyre was still unavailable, even if Tamlin had barely laid a finger on her the past few weeks, as busy and stressed with work as they both had been. Even if in her mind, her relationship with Tamlin had long since come to a crashing halt.

So she had resisted the urge to dab on some blush before she rushed out the door, tying her black overcoat around her waist as she rode the elevator to the lobby. Just a half hour later, she found herself engaged in a spectacularly dull conversation with a pair of junior associates from one of the other firms in Prythian. Feyre had forgotten their names almost as soon as she had heard them, distracted as she was with thoughts of her mission for Rhys—with thoughts of whether Rhys might be present tonight.

“Do you have plans to pursue partnership?” One of the attorneys—a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and brown eyes—inquired, taking another sip of her mixed drink. The woman was tipsy, but quite adept at hiding it. If Feyre hadn’t spent years observing her older sister Nesta’s drinking habits, she might not have noticed.

Unfortunately, the woman was staring at Feyre so intently that Feyre decided she would be forced to answer the question. Feyre’s mind raced, and she genuinely wondered whether saying, “I don’t know—nor do I much care at this point,” might be disadvantageous to her career. If it might get back to Hybern & Night.

But then she felt a hand at her elbow, a warm male body sidling up next to her, the scent of citrus and the sea washing over her in a wave.

“Feyre, darling. You’ve been avoiding me. My father insisted I meet his firm’s future associate.”

Feyre bit back her smile as she turned her attention from the attorneys in front of her to the man who had just stepped up to her elbow. Blue-black hair slightly tousled, as if he had just run his fingers through it. Violet eyes dancing with mirth. Black-on-black suit only emphasizing his imposing figure.

“I didn’t realize we were engaged in a game of hide-and-seek,” Feyre said. “Will you excuse me, ladies? It was wonderful to meet you both.”

And she allowed Rhys to whisk her away, through the crowded ballroom where the event was being held and up a set of stairs, where he pulled her out to a small balcony overlooking one of Prythian’s many parks to the rear of the building.

“That’s twice now,” Rhys noted, releasing Feyre’s elbow only when she leaned against the railing, her own elbows resting against the cool metal.

“Twice what?”

“That I’ve saved you from the vultures. However will you repay me?” Rhys asked, leaning onto the railing next to her.

“I’ll think of something,” Feyre said quietly, raising her eybrows.

“How are you holding up?” Rhys asked.

Feyre blinked. She had expected him to press her for details on Tamlin’s movements, or perhaps encourage her to try just a little harder to get him something, anything he could use to find justice for his little sister.

“I’m—fine,” she said haltingly. “Tamlin has another trip in two weeks, but you already know that. He’s…resistant to the idea of me hanging around Spring Solutions. Keeps insisting it’s going to interfere with my studies.”

Rhys sighed, shifting on his feet. Feyre tried to ignore how the motion brought his arm closer to hers, so close she could feel the heat of his body soaking into hers. “He may be an insufferable bastard, but the man is cautious.”

Feyre tried, unsuccessfully, to hide her wince at the words “insufferable bastard.”

“I’m sorry,” Rhys said, once again surprising Feyre at how adeptly he said the right thing, how flawlessly he interpreted her mannerisms and expressions. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

But Feyre shook her head. “You have every right, Rhysand. After what he did to your sister…”

Rhys let out a long sigh. Feyre echoed him a moment later.

"You called them vultures," Feyre said after several silent moments passed.

"And?"

"Why did you become an attorney if—if you find most of those people in there as abhorrent as I do?"

Rhys shrugged, the movement causing his shoulder to brush against Feyre's. "I come from a very long line of attorneys. In a way, it was the only future I ever really considered for myself. Even though I hated the way my father's work kept him so busy, how he constantly chose his billable hours over his family. I knew he never had any passion for the law he practiced. He merely craved the money, and the prestige, and the reputation."

Feyre turned to observe Rhys, studying the side of his face as he gazed out over the park.

"But I think watching all that made me want to be a different kind of attorney. Someone who cares about the people I'm representing, the cases I'm bringing. And a career as a prosecutor seemed like a good place to start—at least for now.” Rhys paused, as if weighing whether to say what he said next. “I'm not sure if it's made me any better than my father."

"For what it's worth, Rhys, I don't consider you a vulture."

Rhys met her eyes then, his face so open, so vulnerable, for one brief moment. "Likewise," he said quietly.

Feyre grimaced, choosing not to argue with him. Even though she was the one chasing the money that came with a big law job. Even though everything Rhys had said could very well describe her situation exactly.

“You want to get out of here?” Rhys said suddenly.

Feyre turned to look at him. “And do… what?”

“Take a walk. Grab a drink. Do anything other than talk to those insufferable sycophants prowling around that ballroom.”

Feyre swallowed, and before she could talk herself out of it, she heard herself saying, “Let’s go.”

An hour later, Feyre was two glasses of wine deep, laughing at something Rhys said to the strangers they had befriended at the bar a few blocks from the networking event. She hadn't had this much fun in—in a very long time. She couldn't remember the last time she went out with her friends on a whim, talking about everything and nothing, without discussing law school or work or anything serious.

But Rhys was fun. And Feyre was enjoying herself immensely. She even felt a little sad when Rhys paid the tab over her protests, insisting that he remembered all too well the weight of law school loans, before he ushered her out of the bar.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said as they emerged into the dark streets of Prythian.

“You don’t have to do that,” Feyre said.

“It’s dark and we’re downtown.”

Feyre bit her lip, but nodded in assent, turning right to lead Rhys in the direction of her apartment. They made it all of five steps before Rhys's phone rang.

"Sorry," he mouthed at Feyre, answering the call and guiding her over to the edge of the sidewalk.

"Night speaking," he said quietly, leaning against the wall.

Feyre leaned next to him, grateful for the buzz of the alcohol keeping her warm and relaxed as she waited. Grateful that it kept her from thinking too hard about the fact that she had just gone out with drinks. With Rhysand. Alone.

But the languid peace coursing through Feyre's veins evaporated when Rhys stiffened next to her.

"Who is this?" Rhys bit out.

Feyre shivered at the ice in his tone.

"Tell me who you are," Rhys growled, even as he seized Feyre's elbow and tugged her down an alley to their right, pushing her against the wall and crowding close, as if he could shield her very existence from the world around them.

"Who is this?" Rhys demanded once more.

Who the hell was on the other end of that phone call?

"Fuck!" Rhys exclaimed, the phone going dark in his hand as whoever he had been speaking to hung up.

"Who was it?" Feyre whispered.

"I don't know. They wouldn't tell me."

"What did they say?"

Feyre felt the blood drain from her face as Rhys explained.

"We have to go," Feyre said, hands coming up to push at Rhys's chest.

"No. I have to get you home. I'm calling Cassian. He'll handle it." Rhys unlocked his phone, fingers flying across the screen.

Feyre gritted her teeth. "We're two blocks away. I'll be fine. Let's just go."

And before Rhys could argue, she took off down the alleyway, jaw set.

They made it to the alley in less than five minutes, Feyre skidding to a halt at its mouth. Rhys had just hung up with Cassian, whom he had told to meet them there as quickly as possible. Feyre made to plunge into the dark alley, but Rhys grabbed her arm, shaking his head. "Stay behind me," he insisted, moving in front of and stalking slowly down the alley.

They were halfway through the space when Feyre caught sight of what looked like a pile of rags or fabric slumped against the alley wall about twenty feet in front of them.

Only, they weren’t rags, Feyre realized, watching the dark lump on the alley floor shift as Rhys approached.

It was a person—a man—laying on his side, head facing away from them, legs tangled together.

Azriel.

Feyre dropped to her knees next to the agent, the two glasses of wine she had drank earlier now threatening to come up when she beheld the state Azriel was in.

Two black eyes were already forming, his eyes so swollen they were mere slits in his red, black and blue face. Dried blood crusted the skin under his nose and continued all the way down his chin.

Feyre rested an arm on Azriel's shoulder, praying the agent wasn't bruised there as well.

“Azriel,” she breathed.

To her surprise, the agent chuckled. “Believe me, Feyre,” he grunted, his raspy voice echoing slightly in the alley around them. “I’ve had worse.”

Feyre bit her lip as Rhys brushed a hand lightly over her shoulder before joining her on the ground before Azriel.

"How long?" Rhys asked.

"Half hour," Azriel rasped, a series of hacking coughs interrupting him before he could continue. "Maybe longer."

Feyre saw the shadow of rage that passed across Rhys's face as he realized how long Azriel’s attackers had waited to call him. But he didn't verbalize it, instead murmuring, “Let’s get you up, friend." He gripped Azriel’s shoulders and pulling him into a seated position. A shaft of moonlight illuminated the agent, allowing Feyre to more fully appreciate just how battered his face was.

“Gods,” Feyre breathed, following Rhys’s lead and ducking under one of Azriel’s arms.

“It was Spring,” Azriel said quietly, once they had managed to drag him halfway down the alley.

Feyre sensed, rather than saw, Rhys stiffen at the words.

“How do you know?” Feyre asked quietly.

Azriel coughed, spitting a wad of blood onto the alley floor in front of them. “They jumped me,” he said. “Took my gun, then a few of them held me down so they could take turns hitting me. I couldn’t do anything but let them—let them—” He broke off. “Then they dumped me and said they would send someone to retrieve me. I didn't know if that meant someone to finish the job, or help. The only other thing they said, the whole time, was right before one of them stomped on my head: 'Stay the hell away from Spring Solutions. Or else.' I was out cold after that. I think."

A chill ran down Feyre’s spine.

What did or else mean?

None of them spoke another word as Rhys guided them to the mouth of the alley, where a black car awaited. Rhys ripped open the door, revealing a tense-looking Mor in the backseat. She beckoned, taking Azriel from Rhys and Feyre.

Rhys got into the front seat, and Feyre climbed into the back with Az and Mor.

"Gods above," Mor breathed, surveying the damage done to Azriel's face. "What happened?"

Rhys explained as Cassian drove them quickly away from the alley, winding through the dark streets of downtown Prythian.

"Do you think they know?" Mor asked. "About Feyre?"

Rhys shook his head. "No. It was just a coincidence that she was with me at the time."

"They're getting more confident," Cassian noted, pulling his car to a stop in a darkened side street.

It took Feyre a moment to recognize where they were.

"I'll walk you to the building," Rhys said, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car.

“What?” Feyre demanded, mouth falling open as her eyes found Mor's. "I can't go up there knowing—knowing." She broke off, unable to finish her thought. How could she return to her apartment after people from Tamlin's company had just beat Azriel into a bloody pulp just to make a statement?

"Please, Feyre. We need to get Azriel medical care, and the longer you're with us, the greater the chance your cover is blown," Mor pleaded, one manicured hand brushing back Azriel's silky black hair.

"I want to help," Feyre said quietly as Rhys opened the car door next to her.

"You are helping. You already have helped," Rhys said, reaching inside the car to unbuckle Feyre's seat belt. "We need to keep you in a position where you can help."

Feyre swallowed, and let Rhys coax her from the car.

"I'll call you to let you know how he's doing," Mor offered as Rhys shut the door.

Rhys was quiet as he escorted Feyre to the side entrance of her building. "Use that earpiece as soon as you get upstairs. Let us know you go to your apartment safely. Okay?"

"And what if my cover is blown?" Feyre asked.

"If we don't hear from you in ten minutes, I'll come bursting into that apartment myself. They wouldn’t waste time on Azriel if they found out about you.”

Feyre repressed a shudder at the implication in those words: That if Tamlin’s people discovered her treachery, they would come straight for her rather than risk her retreating to the FBI before they could silence her.

Feyre gritted her teeth, lingering in the open doorway.

"Please, Feyre. We have to get Azriel help."

There were so many things Feyre wanted to say, things that the attack on Azriel now made impossible. Had it really been less than an hour since she and Rhys had sat in that bar, laughing and talking without a care in the world?

But Feyre said nothing, instead letting the glass door swing shut between her and Rhys. And since she knew Rhys wouldn't turn to leave until she did, Feyre trudged up the stairs, fighting the urge to turn back for a last glimpse of the attorney watching her.

Taglist: @rhysiedarling @shedoessoshedoes @popjunkie42 @adreamof-spring @that-little-red-head @witch-and-her-witcher @cinnamonmelody @azrielover @1islessthan3books @jenahid @toporecall @martzja @marinated-fish @riribbonss @tunaababee @muaddib-iswriting @queenofdivas

#acotar #feysand #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #acomaf #feyre archeron #a court of mist and fury #fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #feyre x rhys

[comphy-and-cozy]

Sundress Season - Andrei Svechnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x teammate’s sister!Reader (f)

Summary: Being a Staal sister, you’ve seen your fair share of cute hockey players, but none that have struck you like Andrei has. What will happen at the postseason summer barbecue at the captain’s house?

Word Count: 4.3K

Author’s Note: I am a sucker for the summer sundress trope. The rest is just pure, unadultered filth. I don’t know where it came from, but I will be blaming (crediting) @ryanpulock for keeping Tumblr’s Svech-thirst train alive.

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). A cocky Russian, swearing, brief alcohol use/mention, absolutely filthy dirty talk, risqué sex, unprotected sex, choking, very brief voyeurism reference, creampie.

Masterlist / Sequel

As a Staal sister, you’d spent more than your fair share of time around hockey players — of all kinds. The rugged veterans, the hot shot rookies, the career 4th line grinders. You grew up around it, living in the rink alongside your brothers, old sticks and rolls of tape scattered in the trunk of your car. You’d met some legends, both humble and cocky, and you’d met fresh faced kids who were just drafted, still pimply and uncertain. 

But none of them struck you like Andrei Svechnikov. 

Most of the Canes were cordial to you, friendly, but kept their distance because you were their captain’s sister, duh. It was a respect thing, but it was also a little bit of a fear thing. There had been a few guys through the years that weren’t careful with their lingering glances and flirtatious winks, and had promptly been chewed out by one — or more — of the menacing Staals. 

That wasn’t the only reason things had never progressed, though. For the most part, your own interest was never piqued past some surface-level flirting, primarily because you knew that the large majority were scummy, and dirty, just looking for a quick fuck — certainly never the kind of guy you’d bring home to meet mom, dad, and four huge brothers.

Simply put, none of them caught your attention enough to even consider the idea of risking the wrath of the Staal boys.

Except Andrei.

When he came back from his summer break following  his rookie year, he was stronger, more filled out, and, undeniably, downright delicious. It was a notable change, to everyone, and you were no exception. He was cooler, more confident, almost cocky in the way he carried himself, and what’s worse is that you liked it — you couldn’t help it. In just a few short months, he’d transformed from just another one of your brother’s teammates to an absolute Russian dreamboat who you couldn’t keep out of your head. He was pesky, cropping up on Instagram or in casual conversation just as soon as you’d forget about him, never completely slipping from your mind.

He noticed, too. Being less than an hour from your brother, spending holidays and the occasional weekend with him, you saw Andrei somewhat regularly, and he never failed to make you sweat with just a glance. The tension between you two had been growing, steadily and slowly, over the last few months, through subtle glances here, ghosting touches there. Which is why you found yourself nervous for today, an excited energy fluttering low in your belly.

Playoff hopes dashed, Jordan was hosting an end-of-season party before everyone parted ways for the summer. It’s pure coincidence that you happen to be visiting at the same time, having just finished your semester at Duke. Mostly coincidence, at least. 

Just like it’s a coincidence that you picked your flounciest sundress, the one that ripples in the wind and fits your bust in just the right way to show the perfect amount of cleavage while still maintaining your ‘Captain’s Little Sister’ image.

And you play your part well, flitting through the groups that form, making the casual conversation and ensuring that drinks are filled and snacks are stocked. You play catch up with Brendan, joke around with Aho, tell Brady about your program. Heather appreciates the extra hands, chopping up the veggies for the dip, mixing the lemonade for the pitcher, and replenishing the huge spread of food on the kitchen island.

You’re chatting with Jaccob’s wife, Kylie, when Andrei walks in, the air suddenly different and the feeling of eyes that aren’t Kylie’s on you. A glance at the patio confirms what you already know to be true: the object of your affections has arrived, and he’s already taking in the sight of you, offering a close-mouthed smile and a wink before he turns to find a drink.

“He always looks at you,” she comments when she sees where your eyes have trained, returning his smile. “I think our not-so-little Andrei has a crush.”

“My brother would skin him alive, and then kill me, too,” you shake your head, ignoring the heat that her observation brings to your cheeks. Surely the sun beating down had more to do with your sudden hot flash than a certain Russian’s presence, right? 

“He’s a really sweet kid,” she says, as if she’s talking about a boy who is courting her teenage daughter and not a six-foot-something professional athlete. “Always so polite.”

You hum, nodding vaguely in agreement, before stepping away to refill the chips on the table. Once you’ve completed a quick check of the spread, you retrieve your beverage, moving out of the sun to cool under the shade of the large oak tree. Casually, you glance over your shoulder, eyes sweeping over the groups chattering in the yard, until you’re met with two rich sepia irises, already staring back at you. A shy smile quickly forms on your lips, and you look away.

Not two minutes later, you glance back to see a large, dimpled Russian offering a wave as he walks up to you. Part of you wants to smirk, to chirp him that he’s by your side the moment you’re alone, but then he’s standing next to you and his cologne is invading your senses and suddenly you can’t think straight, barely able to look up at him and meet his eyes. 

“It’s nice to see you,” he greets you, smiling, taking a swig of beer from the sweating bottle in his hand. You can’t help but let your eyes drag along the tendons of his arms, over his enormous hands. Had his fingers always been that thick?

You blink, snapping yourself out of it, and offering a, “You too, Andrei.” Then, “I’m sorry about the playoffs.”

“Ah,” he waves his hand, as if all of the frustration and pain could be shooed away with the gesture. “It sucks, but we’ll do it next year. I’m sure of it.”

Humming, you agree, and when you ask if he’s going home for the summer, he says, “I’m here for another few weeks, and then my brother and I are going to Hawaii. Should be fun.”

Again, you nod in agreement, doing your best to push out the mental image of him sitting shirtless on a beach.

“Marty wasn’t sure if you would be here,” he changes the subject, wordlessly in control of the conversation, like he has a purpose and isn’t even going to bother with small talk. “But I knew you would be.”

“How’s that?”

He smirks then, smug in the way he looks at you, and somehow you know he’s got you right where he wants you. 

“Since you’re dying to fuck me.”

Instantly, your eyes widen and you choke on the Mike’s Hard you’re sipping on, heat rushing straight to your cheeks at the blatant, sudden call out. How — ?

“You’re not very good at hiding it, you know,” he continues, as if he can read your mind, has seen every single filthy thought you’ve had about him since he strolled in through the sliding door with his casual, easy air and his shirt that’s just a little too tight around his biceps.

“I — you — it’s —“ you splutter, all thoughts in your mind completely void. What are words, anyways? 

Andrei ignores you, shifting on his feet in a way that looks casual but ultimately gets him a few inches closer to you. He lowers his voice, “It’s okay, ‘cause I’m dying to fuck you, too.”

The air of the conversation shifts dramatically as his words settle in, right into your core where you’ve been dreaming of having him, and you’re both mortified and inexplicably turned on at his certainty. He loves watching you squirm, you can tell by the pleasure in his fiery eyes, like he’s playing a game that he has all the cheat codes to.

“Andrei,” you finally manage to choke out. “Jesus Christ.”

“Moaning my name and I haven’t even touched you yet,” he shoots back with a smirk.

“You can’t – you can’t just –” you gulp again, looking around frantically, ensuring that no one is listening in, “– say that!”

He shrugs, taking another swig of his beer, and you know you’re fucked when you watch his tongue dart out to lick the leftover foamy liquid off his lips, wishing you could do it for him. “Why not? It’s true.”

“That doesn’t mean – I’m – Jordan –” a pause, a deep breath, a collection of thoughts. “Jordan is my brother, and your captain, in case you forgot.”

Andrei must have known that response was coming, because he’s quick with a, “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, it kinda makes it hotter, no?”

You feel like your brain is going to explode at his casual air, as if he’s asking you to pass the salt at the dinner table instead of suggesting you fuck your brother’s teammate inside his own home. To keep up the image of casual conversation, despite the fact that it is far from it, you take another sip of your drink, willing it to cool you down.

He watches you, amused at your attempt to gather your thoughts. Of fucking course you want to, your pussy practically screaming at you to have his mouth on her, and, you admitted to yourself, it would be kind of hot —

“You gonna let me? Fuck you?” his low voice pulls you out of your thoughts, posing the question plainly, and you can’t decide if the bluntness is the Russian in him or simply just his confidence. 

Despite every ounce of your brain shouting at you to say no, you’re nodding before you can think twice about saying yes, head moving of its own accord. With a short glance around the yard to Jordan, ensuring he’s thoroughly preoccupied as he holds someone’s newborn baby, you feign a goodbye to Andrei, muttering, “Guest bathroom. 5 minutes.”

All he does is smirk, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, tempted to take back your words if he doesn’t bottle up his attitude. But you know that’s not what you want, not really.  

Once you’re in the bathroom, door shut firmly behind you, you take a deep inhale and look at yourself in the mirror as the reality of your decision comes crashing around you. Are you fucking crazy? In Jordan’s bathroom?

This isn’t you, never daring enough to do anything even remotely risqué as this, but you can’t deny that the anticipation that thrums through your veins is exhilarating. Besides, it was only a matter of time before you’d develop a crush on one of your brothers’ teammates, and they’d be stupid not to expect it. 

There’s a soft knock on the door, startling you and popping your thought bubble. With another quick inhale, heart panging in your chest, you open the door, your knees nearly buckling at the smirk that greets you on the other side. 

Andrei pushes in, making sure the door is closed and locked behind him before he’s on you, grinning, hands gripping your hips to pull you close to him. His enthusiasm encourages yours, and your hands find purchase on the sides of his face, pulling him in to tug your mouth to his. For a moment, you’re taken aback by the taste of him and the fullness of his lips against yours, distracted by the way his tongue teases you. It’s everything you wanted and more, and he’s only just kissed you.

“What took you so long?” you ask, voice muffled, broken by a sigh as one of his large hands reaches to squeeze your ass.

“Your fucking brother cornered me on my way in here,” he says, giving your other cheek a knead, grinning at the involuntary moan that he pulls from you.

“Y’tell him what we’re about to do?” you tease, deciding that if he was going to let his hands roam free over your body, you’d do the same. Palms run over the smooth, hardened muscle of his chest, feeling the cut of his pecs, then his strong core, admiring with your hands through the material of his shirt.

You’re not sure if it’s your movements or your words that draw a low groan from him, a dark chuckle sounding from his throat as he moves to press kisses along your jaw. “He’d murder me if I told him what I wanted to do you.”

You hum, his admission sending heat directly to your core. Head turned to the side to allow him more access to the tender part of your neck, you manage, “Why don’t you tell me instead?”

“Driving me fucking crazy with this dress all afternoon,” he murmurs hotly, taking advantage of the space you allow him. “Could barely control myself.”

A gasp leaves your lips as he nips at a spot beneath your ear, careful to place it so that it’d be covered by your hair. Fingers tangle in the fringes of his hair, holding his head close to you.

“You still haven’t told me.”

It’s Andrei’s turn to hum, distracted when he unceremoniously tugs the ruching of your dress down, exposing your breasts and immediately moving to get both hands and his mouth on them, fondling and kissing every bit of skin he can touch. A shiver runs through you as his lips find your nipple, flicking and laving the sensitive part with his tongue. 

“This, for starters,” he murmurs, voice muffled by your skin. The depth of it rumbles through you, vibrating your chest. “Been wanting to see these tits for so long.”

He tastes you, hands cupping your breasts as he allows his face to press between them. Your hand moves between your bodies, tugging at his shirt, and he pulls his scorching mouth away from you for a few unbearable moments to throw his shirt over his head before he’s back on you. 

“Andrei,” your voice calls him, a sharp reminder that he doesn’t have time to worship you the way he really wants to.

“All I could fucking think about all afternoon was pulling this,” he says after tearing himself away from your tits, grabbing the flowing skirt of your dress, “Over these pretty hips of yours and bending you over, fucking you ‘til you scream.”

“Well, what are you waiting for, Svech? We don’t have all day.”

He lets out a mix between a groan and a growl, twisting your body so your back is to his chest, facing the mirror, and you watch his hand, heavy on your thigh, move its way up to your breast while he plants another open-mouth kiss to your neck. Your mouth falls open, eyes fluttering shut, unable to do anything but revel in the pleasure — and he hadn’t even touched you yet, not really.

You’re impatient, and a whine slips through your lips as your hips move against him. He’s hard, you can feel him where he’s pressed up against your ass, and if not for the layers and layers and layers — far too many layers — of clothing between you two, you think you could shift your hips just so and he’d slip into you with ease.

“Be quiet,” he mutters in your ear, the depth of his voice settling into your core. “I’m the one who’s gonna get my ass beat if we get caught.”

Andrei’s hand latches to your hip, his other hand moving under the fabric of your dress, finding the soaked cotton of your panties. He’s smirking behind you, into your shoulder, but you can see his dimple poking through and you want to smack the smugness off of his pretty face. You open your mouth to retort, but the words falter on your tongue when you feel his fingers running over your slit, pausing briefly to prod at your clit. 

“A-Andrei,” you groan out, doing your best to keep your voice from wavering. “We don’t have time for teasing.”

“Can’t help it, baby,” he grins back. “Been wanting to feel this pussy for years.”

Your head falls back against his shoulder when he pushes one thick finger past the waist of your panties, slipping into you, pushing, teasing, working you. It’s not long before he adds another, and you gasp because fuck, are his fingers thick. 

“God, you’re fucking tight,” he groans, twisting his arm to get better leverage so he can fuck you better, working you open until your eyes are ready to roll back in your head, white hot waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

The sound of distant chatter down the hall makes you freeze, and if you weren’t moments away from coming all over this man’s fingers, you’d probably laugh at the sight of yourself in the mirror: hair a mess, mouth hanging open, tits haphazardly hanging out of your dress, skirt bunched up with a very large, very talented, hand down your gray cotton thong. Your eyes lock with his, brown and wide, not scared but listening intently, as you frantically search for an excuse of why you could possibly be in the bathroom with your brother’s teammate. 

Heather’s voice gets closer in the hallway, eventually passing and moving further into the house. As soon as he realizes the coast is clear, Andrei resumes his movements, bringing you closer and closer to the climax that the brief moment had quelled.

“Give it to me, baby.” His voice is deep, rough, muttered in your ear as you watch the toned muscles in his forearms flex with his movements. “Just give me one and I’ll fuck you so good you see stars.”

It doesn’t take much longer for you to fall apart, slumping forward against the support of his arm as your orgasm hits you, clenching tightly around his two thick fingers. Your hips rolls against his wrist, already desperate for more of him.

Andrei presses a kiss against your neck, gently, drawing the final waves of your release out with long, slow strokes of his fingers. Without an ounce of hesitation, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, as you watch, jaw dropped, while he sucks your essence off of his digits.

“God, you taste fucking good,” he says, smacking his lips. “Next time, I’m gonna spend all day eating this cunt.”

“Oh, there’s a next time, is there?”

“Judging by the way you just soaked my fingers, yeah, I’d say so.”

“Shut up and fuck me, Svechnikov,” you fire back, pressing your ass back against his crotch, sending him a smirk through the mirror as you grind against him.

He growls, not liking your display of control, and murmurs, “Bend over, then, baby. We don’t have much time.”

“Whose fault is that?” 

“I didn’t see you complaining,” he’s quick to retort. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you were moaning.”

“Are you gonna fuck me or not?”

He smiles, clearly enjoying your banter, as the palm he places between your shoulder blades pushes you down until you’re leaning against the marble countertop, shivering when your bare breasts hit the cool surface. Your dress is still bunched up around the swell your hips, but he tugs up the material even further before he’s making quick work of his own pants, shucking them down his legs and stroking himself. You barely get a glance at it, thinking vaguely to yourself that next time you’d like to spend a lot more time studying.

“You can have it down your throat next time,” is the statement that pulls you out of your daydream, another dimpled smirk meeting your gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

With one smooth push, Andrei takes the words — as well as any snarky remark — out of you, only able to focus on the feeling of him filling you up. Your mouth falls open, pleasure flooding your system as he begins to move, the friction enough to have you throbbing against him.

Hands grip your hips, pulling you back onto him and you swear you can feel him in your stomach, sure he is quite literally rearranging your guts. He’ll leave bruises, you think, hope he does, so that you can trace your fingers over the marks tomorrow when you’re remembering what he feels like inside you, drawing pleasure with each push of his hips.

When his hand trails up your body, securing a place at the base of your throat, fingers wrapping around with ease due to the size of his hand, your eyes lock with his in the mirror, pleading with him to squeeze tighter. Being the gentleman he is, he obliges as he fucks into you, rough, but careful to make sure his hips don’t slap too loudly against your ass for fear of attracting unwanted attention. He’s forceful with steady, slow thrusts opposed to the fast, hard ones he’d like to give you if you were in private, the ones he’s dreamed of giving you since he first met you years ago. Biting the meat of your palm to stay quiet, you lose yourself in the feeling, letting the desire and heat of the moment take over.

A knock at the door has both of you freezing yet again, Andrei pausing with his hips pressed against your ass, conveniently completely sheathed within you. He’s so fucking deep, stretching you to your fullest, wrapped tightly around his cock, and you know he can feel the way you flutter around him as your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Y/N? You in there?” It’s Heather.

Andrei’s hand releases its grip on your throat slightly to let you speak, though his fingers stay pressed against your neck. Your voice fails you, swallowing, before you’re coughing and replying, “Yeah?”

“Have you seen Andrei? Jord’s looking for him, they’re starting a game of volleyball.”

Resisting the urge to laugh, thinking that you’ve more than seen him, you meet Andrei’s eyes in the mirror and see the sparkle in his eye as his free hand moves to place his finger over your clit. With a glare at him, you do your best to ignore the way he rubs, threatening to pull a moan from your lips. “Uh, no. Think maybe I saw him by the — by the cooler.”

She hums a thank you, and you hold your breath before you hear her shuffling away. Andrei lets out a low chuckle, muffling the sound with your shoulder blade. 

“God, that was so hot,” he murmurs, so low you can barely hear him. “Should’ve felt the way you were squeezing me, fuck. Almost makes me want to get caught.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

With a wink, he resumes his movements, this time rougher now that you’ve both had a brief moment to catch your breath, and you know he’s determined to get you off. Thick fingers tighten around your throat once more, tugging you backwards by your neck so your spine is arched and his lips are pressed against the back of your head, breathing heavily against you. “You gonna hurry up and come for me?” he whispers, breath hot in your ear, his accent thick as he nears his own release. “As much as I want to, I don’t think we should have big brother Jordie walking in while I’m balls deep in his sister’s pretty little pussy.”

“Andrei, please,” is your choked reply, eyelids fluttering shut as he begins to hit that spot repeatedly. “God, right there, please —“

He’s a good listener, striking with precision, and it’s only a few more pumps before you’re shuddering in his arms, your strangled cry quickly muffled by his large hand over your mouth. He fucks you through it, pulsing around him before he’s groaning, pressing deeply into you as hot liquid fills you.

A long exhale leaves you, panting, as his arms release their hold on you, ensuring that you’re stable enough to stand with a smirk. The feeling of his cum leaking down your legs makes you bite your lip when he pulls out, and you watch his eyes flick to it, licking his lips at the sight.

You feel like a kid learning how to bike without training wheels, shaky on your legs, briefly wondering to yourself how the fuck you’re supposed to walk back into the backyard and continue socializing like you didn’t have the lights fucked out of you by your brother’s star teammate. 

Andrei seems to have similar thoughts as he’s tugging his pants back up, running a hand through his hair, laughing, “How am I supposed to go play volleyball with your brother now?”

“Guess you should’ve thought about that before you decided to fuck me in his bathroom,” you say, accepting the tissue he offers you to clean up your legs.

“I would never pass up the opportunity to fuck you,” he says, and you see a hint of seriousness and sincerity behind his eyes, despite the crude words coming out of his mouth. “As hot as this was, next time it should be in private. After dinner, maybe?”

You feel heat in your cheeks at his insinuation, the invitation hanging out in the open before you’re hesitating, your brother’s name hanging heavy on the tip of your tongue.

“I’ll deal with him, when it comes time,” he adds, noting your hesitation, already knowing the look he’d have in his eyes — he’ll save that for another day. 

You smile, nodding an agreement, suddenly shy despite the fact that his cum is pooling in your panties as you adjust your dress. A date. A real date. With a hockey player, your brother’s teammate, yes, but more than that: a gentleman. Finally, a man that was worthy to bring home to the Staals. 

When you make your way back to the party, carefully staggering your arrival from Andrei’s, you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips when you make eyes with him as he takes his position by Jordan at the volleyball net. 

This one, you thought, was worth the wait.

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[sitp-recs]

Another year is almost over, and what a year this was for the Drarry community! This list is a “thank you” to everyone’s continuous patience and support during my recent break. I considered not doing anything but in the end I got some free time and didn’t have the heart to break tradition. So here it is, my last reclist of the year showing I’ve actually read A LOT in the first semester alone lol. I did my best to include different tropes and lengths, popular works and hidden gems. As a side note there are no Erised works in here, as the fest is still going on and authors are yet to be revealed. Classic disclaimer goes “pls mind the tags, this is not intended as the ultimate reclist etc etc.” It’s a personal selection based on my tastes and preferences; the idea is to celebrate these fantastic works and their beloved creators. This fandom keeps on giving and I’m so happy to be part of it. Enjoy, give these some love and see you next year!🥂

Drarry:

Without Sunshine by @sweet-s0rr0w (T, 1k) 

Trust SS to come back from a writing break with this banger, holy shit. Brilliant concept, perfect execution. I can’t believe this is only 1k, there’s so much build up and details I wanna learn more about. This tender and urgent apocalyptic AU will steal your heart with perfect vibes and the softest flower shop romance.

Receipts by @moonflower-rose (M, 2k)

Rosie never fails to blow my mind with her creative mind and brilliant sense of humor. This is the perfect bite-size snack, hilarious and so very sweet. I am obsessed with Draco & Pansy’s brOTP, their banter made me laugh out loud and we are treated with Drarry and Ginsy! Here’s your next read if you’re looking for something short, sexy and witty. You’re welcome 💅

Bright Side by @floydig (T, 2k)

Floyd is another master of short form and here’s why. This series of vignettes made my heart ache for these two broken boys finding their place - and each other - in he war aftermath. I’m impressed by how sharp, nuanced and sensorial this is. The heat! The humidity! Love the strong sense of place, it’s so intimate it feels like you’re intruding into something private and special.

Willing Blood by @lqtraintracks and @the-starryknight (E, 2k)

This iconic duo tailored a short yet intense creature fic dripping UST and gorgeous characterization as per. The way Harry and Draco are drawn by - and crave - each other left me salivating, I’m feral for their dynamics. Ultimate power couple vibes (reluctant Draco + fearless Harry make such a great match!) and great evocative 1st person POV.

The Mating Habits of Snidgets by @shealynn88 (G, 3.5k)

I can’t believe this doesn’t have more comments, such a lovely hidden gem. I found it when I needed a soft read before taking a break, and have been thinking about “am I your little bird, then?” since. Quidditch rivals to lovers is becoming my kryptonite and this story does a great job exploring what brings them together despite their social gap. The character development is so good this feels like a 30k story packed within 3.5k.

Magpie by @corvuscrowned (E, 4k)

If you ever have to choose a dark!Harry fic to read, I urge you to go with this one. His klepto characterization is so damn lush and compelling I was half terrified half turned on the whole time 😔✌🏼Thanks to Crow’s masterful and addictive writing, there’s no possible way to resist his charm when it comes with razor sharp dialogue and sexy power dynamics. Come collect my jaw on the floor pls

No Distance by @skeptiquewrites (E, 4.8k)

Is it fair to include a sequel in order to make everyone go read this fabulous verse? Who cares, not me 🤷🏻‍♀️ Tee’s way of writing Drarry always leaves me aching for this kind of love. Their longing for each other is strong but unhurried, the dialogue is fantastic (the nose piercing exchange!) and the smutty scenes hit all my boxes. The characters feel so lovely, tangible and relatable as real people. I will never get enough of this verse, no matter when or where they are, as long as they’re together.

An Emerald In The Sky by @corvuscrowned (M, 6.6k)

My favorite read of the year - as you probably already know since I haven’t stopped screaming about it. My heart belongs to this breathtaking Draco, so full of yearning and melancholy, as he falls in love with time traveller Harry and wonders if they’ll ever get to be on the same page. The astronomy motif only makes it all even more poetic and devastating (but in a cathartic, hopeful way!). This hurts as much as falling in love and I wanna wrap myself in this fic and never let go.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed and @lastontheboat (T, 10k)

Possibly the funniest thing I’ve read all year, which is not surprising considering flux’s inimitable brand when it comes to humor. This epistolary slow burn is light and creative and such a delight. I got immediately attached to the characters and giggled my way through Drarry’s banter; special kudos to Harry’s amazing crew and their perfect spot-on voices. An adorable comfort fic to be revisited at all times!

Witness Marks by @gryffindorhearts (M, 15k)

After so many excellent vampire fics this year, it’s getting hard to resist this trope. Here’s a quiet and atmospheric gem that made me fall hard for clockmaker!Draco. Such an original concept! I adore the lore behind his job, his strained relationship with Lucius, the way he’s pulled towards mysterious Auror Harry. Also- the flirting and sexual tension at the Tate Magique?!! Chefs kiss

Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites (M, 15k)

It’s getting impossible to choose a Tee favorite, my god. Go check her brilliant microfics then come feast on this stunning take on fake dating, choke-full of light humor, found family feels and wonderful world building. Smooth pacing, phenomenal cast, have I mentioned Draco’s into magical ecology?! My favorite kind of slow burn, sweet, tentative, heartwarming and so damn romantic.

Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (M, 15k)

The perfect kid fic exists and I can prove it! Nothing leaves me aching and raw open like Tacky’s Harry with his soft, gentle yearning for hot dad Draco. I’m so in love with his love, I could actually feel my chest expand with this series of incredibly tender and precious moments of friendship, complicity and domesticity many couples will never experience. Extra bonus points for the SEXIEST non-explicit smut and the brilliant commentary on the autistic spectrum, especially related to kids. My whole kingdom for little Scorpius 👑

With Hands Full of Dusk by @corvuscrowned (E, 15k)

Yes I’m proposing to Crow after posting this because I suddenly feel exposed with 3 recs 😳 hands down the best case fic I’ve read this year, I’m obsessed with Drarry as creature hunters and the suspense-y vibes here. The slow burn is mature and thought-provoking, heavy with a deep sense of loneliness and so evocative it hit me just right. This story is sharp but also strangely comforting, a perfect read for a rainy or foggy day. I wish I could bask in its atmosphere for the first time, over and over again.

Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo, art by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 17k)

I’m so happy I found the time to check this one fic from Fan Fair because this was a truly special read, surprising in the best ways and very cathartic. The gorgeous prose finds a perfect tone between sexy and contemplative bringing food, gender, racial and political discussions together in a coherent and powerful way I wouldn’t think possible for a 17k fic. Loved seeing Harry and Draco so open and vulnerable, experiencing who they really are together. Lush, powerful and healing.

Heartlines by @sorrybutblog (T, 22k)

One of my first reads this year remains a iota fave, this was so much fun and so charming. A delightful case fic combining sentient house, Auror Harry, smitten Draco, everything we deserve. The best thing is the surprisingly clever and charming humour, it made me giggle at the most unexpected times, giving the suspense a light tone I can’t get enough of. Despite the underlying tension, this will make you smile from beginning to end.

What Makes a House a Home by @writcraft (E, 27k)

The only Drarry fic Writ writes this year ends up being a banger, figures 🙌 honestly this is a masterclass in tension building with a gorgeous take on recluse!Harry and delicious slow burn. It was so cool to learn more about this Harry through Draco’s curious eyes, as the forced proximity pushes them together. Sexy adult dynamics and compelling characters, right up my alley!

At the Doorway, On the Stair by dwell_the_brave and @p1013 (T, 30k)

I love myself a good mystery fic and this was such a nice surprise, so very spooky and immersive. The author did a fantastic job creating an intriguing atmosphere while advancing the plot, I was at the edge of my seat trying to figure things out while falling in love with “ghost” Draco as he tried to help Harry along the way. Excellent slow burn and a gorgeous setting that will lure you in!

Eager for the Sky by @oknowkiss (M, 35k)

This list wouldn’t be complete without a classic 8th year and here’s my 2022 pick by this author whose talent and range blows my mind. This fic pulled me back from my fandom break quite violently; I ate it up in one night and was immediately taken by their Quidditch rivalry and achingly sweet romance. The Drarry journey is so very wholesome it filled me with wonder and nostalgia for my teenage years. Being the multishipper I am, the brief nod to Harry/Ron at the end was just my kind of extra treat!

Rush (For A Gap That Exists) by @sleepstxtic-drarry (M, 42k)

I never thought I’d get obsessed with a F1 AU but here we are. Another incredible ride that pulled me in with impressive, detailed world building and sexual tension so insanely electric it was hard to resist. Brilliant movie adaptation keeping the Drarry dynamics recognizable with sexy and complicated UST. I’ve also loved the interesting storytelling format and exciting twists which kept me at the edge of my seat.

Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 47k)

This fic requires no introduction, I imagine everyone has read it by now. Once again Astolat slaps us in the face with her superior storytelling skills, effortlessly building this rich and compelling magical healing universe told from this brilliant Draco POV. His arc is a triumph, his voice perfectly spot-on, sharp but charming, proud and bratty and competent in ways that made me very emo. This has become an instant Healer!Draco classic and has one of my all-time favorite characterizations. A masterpiece to be thought of - and talked about - for years to come.

Vis-à-Vis-à-Vis by @vukovich (E, 50k)

I wasn’t prepared for how immersive and exciting this would be, what a ride! The secret identity motif and case fic atmosphere got me immediately hooked, I couldn’t get enough of those perfect cat-mouse dynamics, the thrilling twists, the delicious pining and the intense, hot smut I deserve 🤌🏼 Vuk’s narrative voice is a delight, lush, full of personality and with an easy humor that makes this story even more surprising and remarkable.

what husbands are for by @softlystarstruck (E, 52k)

Yet another charming creature fic I’ve read in one sitting, this has the most wonderful sloooow burn - with lots of tension and non-sexual intimacy - and some great world building full of interesting lore and political shenanigans about vampire & wolf verse that I found quite interesting. I’m fascinated by fashionista and prosthetic artist Draco, such a cool job idea! A refreshing take on “enemies to friends to lovers” with Bee’s soft & sweet trademark.

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k)

I’ve been in love with Starry’s work for so long, and they still render me speechless when a new fics comes out. MMM is the most creative and cathartic fic I’ve read this year. This jaded craftsman Harry holds my heart in his hands, and the impressive amount of world building and lore behind the Dreamwalker figure sets an enchanting atmosphere. The settings are vivid and immersive, the slow burn so very tender and romantic it left me aching. And Teddy is absolutely perfect which is a big bonus on my book since I love him so much. This is a heartfelt love letter to every creator out there struggling with burnout. Here you’ll find hope, healing, and resistance to start 2023 the right way.

The Trouble with Wanting by waldorph (E, 60k)

Draco fans, rejoice! Those who adore a convincing posh and quirky characterization need to check this brilliant rendition asap. Positively Slytherin with its mischievous charm, this is fun and sexy af. Love myself a good old Draco-centric story following his post-war journey until he finds Harry his place in the new order. The Silver Trio is an absolute delight and this smitten Harry instantly found his way into my (and Draco’s) heart. One of the best get together fics I’ve read in the past few years.

9 ½ Days by @magpiefngrl (E, 69k)

Technically I’m cheating since this is from 2017, but I want to take a minute to appreciate Magpie’s generosity and hard work finishing this even after going on a Drarry break. One of my all-time faves when it comes to canon divergent war fics, the flawless narrative combines an urgent and dangerous “on the run” atmosphere with the softest teenage love, gentle, charming and tentative. It was bittersweet to see their journey coming to an end but this adventure was so well done and the ending was so emotionally satisfying, I can’t rec it enough.

Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 76k)

An epic Drarry romance mixing two tropes we all love: down & out Draco and magical creatures! This fic is very creative with a rich and detailed world building, and also many interesting and charming creatures. SS brings her tender melancholy trademark and an intriguing subplot involving Draco’s parents that I found very engaging. I loved this lonely Draco arc, his quirky personality and all the little things that make him strong and proud instead of meek and pitiful. Joy’s artwork is a masterpiece on its own and helps bringing this beautiful, magical universe into life.

A Case of You by @epitomereally (E, 97k)

This lovely reunion fic combines so many of my favorite tropes it felt like a special treat for me. Case fic, break up/make up, Unspeakable Draco, non-linear narrative, forced proximity, sparking sexual tension, what a feast! I found myself invested in both timelines, waiting for those beautiful, competent and stupid men to get their shit together and become the power couple we deserve. The pacing and character development are so smooth this barely feels like 100k, and have I mentioned how hot bossy Harry is? Oof!

In the Bleak Midwinter by @the-fools-errand (E, 105k)

Once again this author takes my breath away with another excellent, refreshing and exciting AU - this time based on Peaky Blinders - and I’m so impressed by the inventive world building here. Not only it expands to accommodate a huge cast, but also translates every little detail into the HP universe. Gripping narrative, clever plot, delicious enemies-to-lovers sexual tension and a heartbreaking Sirius arc that will hit you right in the solar plexus. You can’t go wrong with this author’s AUs, 10/10 recommend.

When Times are Dire by @aibidil (E, 130k)

I’ve been following this fake marriage epic since it first started posting and was super excited to see it being finished this year. Trust aibidil to do older!Drarry justice: their witty personalities, fond camaraderie and clever dialogue serve impeccable friends-to-lovers dynamics. I’m so into this brand of old couple domesticity and their exchanges with the grown-up kids are sweet and fun. Perfect balance of light humor, found family vibes, sweet romance and sexy times, this story has everything!

Rarepairs:

Mischief Managed by @maesterchill (E, 1.7k) - Harry/Sirius

Few things left me as emotional as this perfect gift that marked Em’s first (and maesterful! ha!) exploration of this ship. The way she grasped everything that hits me right in the feels is almost terrifying: it’s as if she looked into the most vulnerable parts of my brain and went “hmm tender devotion, idyllic aesthetics, foreplay, cute endearments, filthy wall sex, happy ending”👩‍🍳 and put together this light, sexy, fun and wonderfully hopeful smutty short that made me cry at the spot. Don’t forget to check the equally lush and self-indulgent sequel here!

Weather Warning by @sweet-s0rr0w (T, 1.7k) - Draco/Albus 

One of the best, most refreshing takes I’ve ever seen on this ship, this is so very different from your usual age gap tone and vibe, and I’m here for it. I was immediately charmed by their voices and light yet charged dynamics, T-rated but still holding so much heat and promise. This short leaves a strong impression and will make you crave for more ;) it’s also the perfect way to be introduced to this ship, come along and satisfy your curiosity!

Coming Up for Air by @lqtraintracks (M, 2k) - Harry/Teddy

*sigh* the amount of times I’ve read and cried over this stunning Harry/Teddy romance... this fic means so much to me because it was written by the one who set the foundation for how I see this ship, my favorite rarepair ship, so many years ago. With an incredible amount of character and feeling packed within 2k, this has the flavor of mutual devotion I yearn for, and a tormented Harry being loved and seen by this wise, generous and understanding Teddy, as they find their way back to each other. It doesn’t get any better than this!

Like A Brother Would by @wolfpants (E, 5k) - Harry/Ron

Tent sex my beloved! Another rarepair master, Wolf delivers everything I love the most about this ship - the easy familiarity, the tenderness and quiet devotion, the shared understanding and delicious sexual exploration amidst war chaos. It’s painfully clear how much they care about each other. Hung service top Ron is a sight to behold and I wonder how such a short fic was able to convey the depth of their trust and connection. Oh, to be young and feel love's keen sting… *Dumbledore’s voice*

Green Light by @sorrybutblog (E, 6k) - Ginny/Hermione

I got obsessed with Ginny/Hermione very recently and this was my first venture into this ship - not gonna lie, it was so much more than I had expected. Don’t let the (deliciously hot and self-indulgent - as it should be!!!) smutty tags distract you, this has fascinating dream-like summer vibes and perfect characterization, with spot on voices and a light tone of mirth and freedom that made my heart smile. Living for the edging and the “no one’s cheating everyone’s getting laid” tags 💦

The Hollow by @wolfpants (E, 12k) - Draco/Remus

This ship had never even crossed my mind before and here I am, utterly obsessed with this verse Wolf created so masterfully. Poignant and devastating, this fic has such a compelling narrative. My jaw was on the floor as the story went on and both characters revealed their layers through sexy smut and heartbreaking melancholy. There’s so much nuance to them, so much yearning and pain bringing them together and informing their decisions. Trust me when I say Drarry and Wolfstar fans will also adore this!

Still the pine-woods scent the moon by @fluxweeed (E, 15k) - Harry/Remus

I rarely read fics featuring Remus but both Flux and Wolf decided to slap me in the face with hot daddy vibes, and who am I to say no? Hands down one of the hottest, most erotic things I’ve read this year, a masterclass in UST that had my heart racing in anticipation. Scorching smut and a mesmerizing Harry desperate to be seen and treated right. I love how easily they fit together, I was immediately sold on this rare pair. Don’t read this at family dinner kids, you’ve been warned!

A Life Worth Remembering by @writcraft (E, 23k) - Established Drarry + Severus

Never thought I’d read this triad with de-aged Snape but watching his delightfully stubborn young version trying to resist those hot daddies was way too satisfying. This fic surprised me in so many ways, especially in tone and characterization. I love how their dynamics are slowly established here; Severus’ POV actually delivers not 1 but 3 superb character studies and we get to see how loving Harry changes these two difficult men and brings them all together. A nuanced and adult portrayal of open relationships, this is a must read for anyone who’s into voyeurism intrigued by this triad.

just call this what it is by @queenscrown (M, 27k) - Harry/Draco/Theo

The softest poly fic you’ll read today, this 8th year triad was based on this art by @t4tdrarry​ and celebrates wholesome friendships and gentle healing. Harry, Draco and Theo come together first as friends then as lovers in such an organic, uncomplicated way I wanted to live inside this verse. Love their easy banter, Harry’s sass (!), his camaraderie with Hermione and the way she helps him figure things out. A sweet and comforting hidden gem that deserves more readers and love.

you will burn right now but then you won't regret it by @thistlecatfics, art by SecondSilk and @veelawings - Fleur/Tonks

I’d never expect to find such a complete fic for this rare pair (which I admit I haven’t explored much), this was an absolute feast bringing together fascinating characters (love this badass Fleur!), politics and A+ family drama. I loved this deep dive into the Black family - so much angst, so much plot! Complicated and heartbreaking, this is a a wonderful exploration of trauma and a treat for any femslash fan looking for a nuanced and carefully developed romance that makes both characters justice.

Passion, Patents, and Pen Pals at the Ministry by yrfrndfrnkly and @violetclarity, art by @anaxandria-writes and @veelawings (T, 32k) - Hermione/Pansy

Easily my favorite Pansmione fic this year, this was such a surprising and refreshing story. The charming protagonists and clever development mixing dialogue and epistolary create a lively and exciting work universe at the Ministry. I felt immediately immersed in their routine None of that would work without the perfect supporting cast (meddling Harry is such a gem!) and the unique spice only an identity porn + epistolary combo can bring. Fun and refreshing, a must read for all femslash fans who are thirsty for good long fics. 

#2022 faves #drarry recs #hp rare pair

[multifandom-simp-page]

Lazy Snowy Mornings

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!Reader

Word count: 0.6K

Summary/request: based off this request

Because this is a Christmas request I just couldn’t help myself but to write it! I love this request, thanks so much anon!

You were roused out of sleep as calloused fingers played with the hair at the base of your neck, occasionally drawing formless shapes on your nape. You grumbled and begrudgingly opened your eyes, finding your boyfriend already staring at you, with a lazy smile on his face. The corners of your mouth turned up at the sight and you sighed happily curling yourself more into his side. 

Coming home with him for the holiday break was easily the best choice you made all semester. Thank the gods for the fact that you grew up together as your parents were business partners or you doubt his parents, dad especially, wouldn’t have been too keen to have you over for the holidays. 

The past week had been almost a fever dream for you, waking up in your boyfriend's bed, in his room, with him either snoring beside you or giving you the look he was giving you now, and all without trying to sneak back to your dorm before the staff woke up and punished you for breaking the rules.

It gave you butterflies thinking about it, you sighed contently and lifted your hand to tuck some of his unruly bedhead behind his ear. He leaned over to place a sweet kiss on your forehead and mumbled “Good morning beautiful” in his gruff morning voice you’ve oh so come to love. 

He wrapped his free arm around your waist and brought the other one by your head to clasp his hands together and pull you up on top of his chest, he squeezed you in a slight hug before moving his hands to rest in the dips of your hips and traced shapes as he kissed the top of your head. 

You smiled and placed a kiss on his shoulder over the fabric of his shirt, placing your ear on his sternum, hearing the gentle thrum of his heartbeat. “Good morning handsome,” you said and felt one of his hands snake up under your shirt and splay across your back. 

You sat up slightly and placed a kiss over his heart and then looked up at him with a soft smile “I love you Xavier” You hummed and crossed your arm over his chest, resting your chin on it to drink in his morning expression. 

He shifted underneath you and leaned forward kinda awkwardly to place a soft kiss on your lips, “I love you darling” He said sweetly lifting both his hands to cup your cheeks, he peppered your face in kisses. You giggled and squirmed away from him. 

“Nooo let me go” you cried playfully and shoved at his chest, sitting up to try and escape his grasp, but failed as he followed your movements, shifting so his arm slung around your waist, pulling you against him. 

You squealed and tried to push against him for another minute or so, before giving in and slumping against him, he chuckled triumphantly as he peppered kisses all over your face and down your neck, then across both your shoulders. 

His laughing was cut short as a knock sounded on his door, you both turned to see his mother opening the door to peek in she smiled knowingly as your and Xavier’s movements halted, his arms falling lack around your waist. Your arms were slung around his shoulders and you leaned into his chest, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 

She laughed and smiled at her son “Hate to interrupt the puppy love, but breakfast is ready you two,” She spoke softly, and Xavier smiled at her and thanked her. She nodded and closed the door, leaving you to yourselves again. 

Xavier started softly laughing at your embarrassing state, rubbing your back and kissing the crown of your head, “I guess it's time to go get some breakfast love” He said and you shifted off him, your stomach grumbling in agreement. 

You both laughed and crawled off the bed, stretching before heading downstairs to eat some food. You didn’t know how you would fair at Nevermore after the break was over, you had really grown to love the domestic relationship with your boyfriend. 

----

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, i really loved this it was so fun to write! Please forgive any spelling or grammatical mistakes there might be.

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier x reader #domestic fluff #anon request #christmas requests #tooth rotting fluff #fluff #puppy love

[noramoons]

feels like we only go backwards

pairing: seo changbin x fem reader (afab)

genre: college au, frat boy!changbin

includes: angst, smut, (slight) fluff

rating: mature/18+ (minors DNI.)

warnings: mentions of drinking, food, language, explicit sexual content, friends with benefits, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), a relationship that starts out toxic (please communicate with your romantic/sexual partners :D)

word count: 8.5k

summary: it’s been three years since you’ve seen changbin. you’ve gotten over your crush on him.

haven’t you?

This is, without a doubt, the worst frat party you've ever been to.

In all fairness, it's also the only frat party you've ever been to. You've spent almost the entirety of your college career away from this crowd; your goal has always been to get in and get out of university, nothing more, and nothing less, and you've done it in record time—just over three years, with your next semester also being your last. You're proud of yourself for how hard you've worked—how you've put your nose to the metaphorical grindstone and done nothing but work for three years, turning down all the party invitations, the weekend getaways, the spring break trips—all of it, so you could be done with school and get started on the part of your life that actually matters.

Well—you turned down most of them.

Your roommate, Saori, had begged you to go out with her this weekend—you’ve been such a stick in the mud (a direct quote!) for the past three years. She’s known you for years, your whole life, practically, and she says she misses who you used to be be. Back when you used to be fun. And it’s almost the end of the fall semester—there won’t be that many parties after this, after all.

So you agreed to go, albeit begrudgingly. Those goddamned emotions were finally getting to you again, of all things.

But now you're here. Saori had left you for the dance floor hours ago, leaving you with your back against the wall at the back of the room with a half-full red Solo cup in one hand. How revoltingly cliché.

You scan the room in front of you again. These kinds of parties have to only be fun if you're drunk—you can't understand the appeal otherwise. The dance floor across from you is full of nothing but senseless swaying and grinding, half of it not even on beat with the music booming in the speakers, reverberating in your chest and pounding against your ears.

It's on this final scan that you see a familiar face, though, and you nearly drop the plastic cup in your hand.

You almost laugh, but you don't.

Instead, you stare at the side profile of the man you think you'd recognize anywhere until he finally turns to make eye contact with you, and he looks just as surprised as you.

Seo Changbin.

"Y/N?"

You throw up your free hand in feigned defeat, plastering a fake smile on your lips instantly as he strolls over. You have an instant of mental panic thinking he's going to go in for a hug, but he saves you from your thoughts when he delivers a light punch to your shoulder.

"What are you doing here? I didn't know you even went to this school."

You let out a short laugh at that. "Yeah, I didn't know you did either. Kinda defeats the whole purpose of going to college this far away."

He cocks one eyebrow at you. "You came all this way just to avoid me?"

You make a face. "N-no, I meant people from high school. In general."

Changbin's grin widens. You could smack him. "Right."

You change the subject. "So...you're in this frat?"

He nods. "Sure am. Thought it would be a good way to meet people, get involved."

Right. "How's it been?" The small talk is killing you, you think, eating you away from the inside out—but you suppose it's better than the alternative. Besides, the two of you have always been good at this—practically lying to each other's faces to keep from actually having a serious conversation.

"It's been great, I've had an awesome time so far. I'm surprised I've never seen you before though—did you transfer?"

As if. "Oh, no—I came with my roommate. This, uh, isn't really my thing."

Changbin smirks at that. He lifts his index finger from being curled around the drink in his hand to point at the cup in yours. "That your first drink?"

You nod.

"I'll grab you another one. These are no fun if you're sober."

Funny—you'd just been thinking that. "Oh, Changbin, you don't have to, I—"

But he's already waving your words away as he walks towards the drink counter on the other side of the room.

He'd been your lab partner in chemistry senior year. God, you'd hated chemistry—but he hadn't. Rather, he'd taken to the subject like a duck to water, much to your chagrin—at least, until you realized he couldn't write an essay to save his life. A bargain was struck: he'd help you in chemistry, you'd help him in writing composition. Simple.

Simple. Which was exactly what it was supposed to be. And, in your defense, it had been, at first: his house wasn't even that far from yours. You'd walk over after school, or he'd knock on your door an hour or so after you got home. You'd exchange tips on your respective homework, and you'd return to your respective houses.

Before long, you're both doing well enough in your classes to stay afloat—but you still find yourself over at each other's houses several days of the week anyway. Half the time you don't even talk about school—you catch up on a show you're both becoming obsessed with, or he shows you a new song from some group you've never heard of, or you tell him about how crazy your parents are driving you this week, and he tells you about his ex-girlfriend being passive-aggressive towards him in the cafeteria, and it all still feels simple. Easy. Meant to be.

It still feels that way the day he kisses you on the couch in the middle of your movie marathon. You're glad you'd seen that movie before, because you don't end up getting to watch the end of it—or any of the sequels afterward. It's nothing more than background noise with Changbin's lips on your neck and his deft fingers unbuttoning the front of your jeans.

You barely make it in the front door the next time you come over before his hands are on you, and the time after that is the same way—all hurried, hushed words and soft kisses and clothes in a pile on his bedroom floor—and God, you've never known anything like this. You've fooled around before, maybe, but it almost scares you how fast you fall for Changbin. You had admired him long before you became lab partners in your shared chemistry class—you'd secretly been so glad when those classroom assignments had been announced, and you had been happy to just be friends at the beginning. This—whatever the two of you are now is more than you could have ever hoped for. It feels like all the pieces are falling into place.

That's why it's such a surprise when he doesn't ask you to come over the day before your next chemistry exam. You'd been planning a big study session for both of you—flashcards, color-coded notes, the works. And maybe you'd put on that pink set of lingerie he liked so much underneath your clothes that morning just in case anything else happened. Again.

Instead, he sends you a message, asking you to meet him in the parking lot after school. You'd felt that uneasy pit of nerves forming in the bottom of your stomach at the text, something you've never felt around him, and you hope you're just overthinking things.

You aren't.

Those last words of his to you stick in the front of your brain for weeks, like gum you can't get off the bottom of your shoe.

"I just don't think I can do anything like this right now. You know it hasn't been that long since Suran and I broke up, and I just think I might have moved too quickly on this."

You'd nodded quickly—too quickly, swallowing back tears as you did so. "Y-yeah, no, I get that. It's okay."

Changbin had given you a sad little smile. "You know, you can keep my jacket. If you want."

Asshole.

He'd said he didn't think he could do anything—so why had he done anything in the first place?

You're distracted from your thoughts when he returns with another red cup, holding it out towards you. "How're classes going?"

You almost miss the smirk that flashes across his face for a brief instant as he watches you down the rest of your drink in one gulp, taking the new cup from his outstretched hand. "Alright, I guess. How about you?"

Changbin shrugs. "Same here. What's your major again?"

'Again—' as if he'd asked before. "Communications."

"Oh, nice!" he says, nodding. "I'm in music production."

You almost let out a laugh. "Music production, huh? What, are you on SoundCloud, too?"

His grin only widens. "Want me to send you my link? Or you could come over and listen to it, sometime," he adds with a wink.

You laugh, despite yourself—and maybe it's the alcohol in your system loosening the tension in your chest, and maybe it isn't—but you feel suddenly stricken with the reminder that the two of you were friends, once. And he'd been easy to get along with, easier than any other guy you'd ever hung around.

Those first few weeks after you'd broken up (could you even say you'd broken up, really, if you'd never actually been together?) had been weird, to say the least. You'd done horrible on the exam the following day, something you would spend the entire rest of the semester making up for, and neither of you said a word to each other for weeks, about the class or otherwise. It wasn't until the next test rolled around that you reluctantly suggested comparing notes again—after school, of course, and in the coffee shop downtown. You weren't letting him in your house again, and you certainly weren't going over to his.

It had struck you in that moment, too, how well the two of you got along—sure, it had been awkward at first, pulling out your notes and talking about chemical titrations again like nothing had happened—but maybe it was better this way. You both work better as friends, clearly, so maybe that's all you should ever aim to be. At least you have this.

You think about that as your gaze flickers back up to his. You should say no, you think. You should yell at him for being such a pretentious dick, for not even bringing up how you'd left things senior year—but you don't. Instead, a half-smile crawls its way up the side of your mouth before you can stop it. "Sure."

~~~

It had scared you, those years ago, how quickly you'd fallen for him. Now, it scares you how easy you're able to fall into a routine again with him—as if nothing at all had happened. As if you're simply picking up from the last day of your shared chemistry class.

You still have an infuriating amount of things in common—you may even have more of the same interests now than you did in high school. You still watch the same shows, listen to the same music—and you'd be lying if you said he wasn't talented in that department, too. He invites you over one night while he works on an assignment with a few other students from the music department, and they're all good. Unbelievably so.

You fit in well with his friends, too—they're all just as funny and quick-witted as Changbin. Seeing him laugh again—especially when you're the cause of it, making him laugh that hearty, musical chuckle with something you said or did feels better than you remember.

You're all laughing together one night, playing a stupid drinking game at your apartment, and the alcohol in your system isn't the only thing making you feel so light headed. Changbin keeps grabbing hold of your shoulder when he laughs, throwing his head back and holding on to you for support, and you're suddenly having a hard time remembering why you'd been so stressed to see him nearly a month ago at that party.

The oldest of Changbin's friends—Chan, the grad student, points at you as he tries to stifle his laughter. "You lost!" he says, a little too gleefully. "Again!"

"Okay, okay! I get it, I'm going!" you shout over the noise of the music playing in the background, shooting him a fake grimace as you throw back another shot of vodka as punishment for not knowing the drummer for some obscure band you've never heard of.

They all cheer when you slam the empty shot glass back on the counter, and now you're the one giggling as you hold onto Changbin for support. He shoves your shoulder lightly when he notices, but he doesn't push you off of him.

"Alright, alright," Chan starts again once the commotion starts to quiet down again. "Changbin's turn. Truth or dare?"

Changbin shrugs. "Truth."

"Okay. What was the first thing I asked you last year in Professor Jang’s class?"

Changbin tilts his head to the side, but he only has to think for a few moments. "'Do you have a pencil I could borrow?'"

There's an immediate chorus of laughter around the circle, Jisung's laugh heard almost above everyone else's from your left. "He's too good at these, man. Changbin's no fun with these games."

Chan waves his words away. "Quit complaining already, it's your turn. You lost last round, so you get to ask."

Jisung scans the circle. "Alright...Hyunjin. Truth or dare?"

Hyunjin takes a moment to decide. "Dare."

Jisung, however, doesn't take long to choose a dare. "You should kiss Y/N."

You feel like everything slows down immediately, as if you're suddenly completely sober. All four pairs of eyes are on you, looking you up and down—including Hyunjin's.

You meet his gaze right back.

"You don't have to, you know," Chan reminds Hyunjin (and the rest of the group). "You can always take the shot instead."

Hyunjin's eyes haven't left yours. "I know."

You think you'd probably be panicking internally if you were sober—this is only the second time you've seen Hyunjin, and you were decidedly much less tipsy the first time you'd met. Not to mention the fact that he's practically Adonis reincarnated—you'd have to be blind to not notice the sharp cut of his jawline or the fullness of his lips.

But you aren't sober now—and that's probably what gives you the courage to take a step closer to him. The rest of the group practically melts away when he cups a hand under your jaw, tilting your head up to press his lips to yours in a brief kiss—hardly more than a peck, really, but you're brought back to Earth by the cacophony of cheers from the men around you, taking a step back as Hyunjin lets go of your jaw, both of you grinning sheepishly.

Your eyes flicker past Hyunjin, to the man right behind him, and your blood practically runs cold when you see the look in Changbin's eyes—the quiet kind of anger you've only ever seen on him a handful of times.

You suddenly feel a twinge of guilt—why? There's no reason for you to be thinking about him. There's no reason for you to feel guilty about doing anything without his permission, for Christ's sake—you couldn't be less involved if you tried. And yet, you think about that inexplicable emotion in his eyes, that clench of his jaw with his hands in his pockets, for long after the party ends.

~~~

This is stupid, you think.

Changbin's ignoring you. There's not a doubt in your mind.

You'd been meeting Changbin at least once a week for food or studying before that party—he'd text you or you'd text him. It's been three weeks since that now-infamous party, since your barely-there-kiss with Hyunjin, and there's been nothing from Changbin. Complete radio silence.

You tell yourself you don't care. You've gotten by for three whole years since high school with scarcely a thought about the man. Surely you can carry on now without seeing him every now and then.

You don't care. You don't.

Which is definitely why you practically jump out of your seat when his name pops up at the top of your notifications.

s.c

> you going to jisung's tonight?

y/n

< hadn't planned to lol. is something happening?

s.c

> we're doing a movie night

> i told him to text you like a week ago lmao

You could've told me, you think. You're reminded of the feeling you'd had at that first frat party where you'd seen Changbin, almost three months ago now—you knew as well as you knew your own name then that you should have said no when he asked you to come over.

s.c.

> you coming? it's at 8

You should say no this time.

y/n

< yeah, i'll see you there

~~~

Changbin's friends are, to put it nicely, absolutely terrible chefs.

Chan and Jisung had meant to make pizza rolls for the group, using the oven they were so happy to have in the apartment to feed their friends with. Once everyone comes over, however, the rolls are all but forgotten in the commotion of six people talking in the apartment all at once—at least, until Hyunjin suddenly smells something in the kitchen, he says. Something really bad.

Both Chan and Jisung let out an anguished yell at the same time—"the pizza rolls!—" but it's far too late for the blackened, melted orbs in the oven that were once frozen rolls. 

There's only a few other things the boys keep in the pantry that you could even consider edible—which is how you find yourself on the couch a few hours later, a bowl of stale popcorn on your lap and a half-empty bottle of water in the other.

Half the men had fallen asleep in the middle of the first movie, and the rest had dozen off somewhere in the second. You're the only person awake to catch the end of the trilogy, but you find that you don't really mind, even if it's a movie you've seen once or twice before. There's something impossibly and almost beautifully serene in the moment—five other men around you, who have been some of the loudest people you've ever met, all perfectly quiet and asleep, empty bags of chips and candies strewn around them on the other couches and armchairs. It's an unusual scene, but it's one that you find yourself comfortably content in anyway.

Once the movie's over, you tell yourself you're going to go home, letting the TV go on autoplay as it selects another random movie to begin as you slowly rise up from the couch, trying your utmost not to disturb any of the sleeping men in the room.

At least, you'd thought they'd all been asleep.

A hand clasps at your wrist as you move to stand.

You look down. "Changbin?" you whisper, sitting back down as slowly as you can. "I thought you were asleep."

He shakes his head, moving to sit up beside you on the couch. "I've been awake for a bit. That movie bored me half to death."

You laugh quietly. "I didn't think it was that bad. Not like that stupid space series you used to be so fond of, though."

Changbin gasps, clutching his chest in mock offense. "I can't believe this, Y/N. We're too different these days," he says, laughing. "We used to be so similar."

There's a pang in your heart at those words. You had been so similar, once. There was a time, albeit a brief one, where you did everything together, and it had felt so right. Like you'd been meant to do so.

He grins, continuing. "I'm glad we're friends again."

A soft smile flies to your lips before you're even aware of it. "I'm glad we are, too."

You sit in that moment of contentment with him for just a moment too long, or maybe not long enough, before you feel it shift. You're suddenly aware of his hand on your knee—when did it get there?—but his eyes are still locked on yours. You find that you aren't entirely surprised at all when his free hand comes up to cup your chin and his lips press to yours, softly. Hesitantly. And when he pulls back again, waiting to see if you shove him off of you, to stand up and walk away like you know you should, but you don't, you aren't surprised when he kisses you again, deeper this time, because this feels right, too. Like you'd known he was going to do this all along.

You curl your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as you kiss him back, and the soft sound of a groan into your mouth at your actions makes you feel far prouder than you probably should. In return, he squeezes at your knee, sliding his hand up your thigh to rest at your waist as you maneuver against him, practically sitting in his lap at this point.

The kisses turn more intense quickly, neither of you stopping until you're both left gasping against each other's lips, Changbin kneading at the skin of your waist reassuringly. But you don't miss the way his eyes flicker down to the waistband of your jeans, slowly moving a hand to gently rest over the button. "Is this okay?" he whispers, his warm breath cascading over your lips and making you shiver all the way from the top of your spine down. You know what he's asking.

But you know you shouldn't. For fuck's sake—there are four other men in the room, fast asleep on different couches and the floor, and you don't think you could ever look any of them in the eye again if they woke up to Changbin fucking you at what was supposed to be a movie night with friends. "Changbin," you start. "I don't know if we're—"

He guesses how the end of your sentence was going to go. "Hey," he reassures you. "If you want to, this doesn't have to be anything. No strings," he says, mimicking a pair of scissors cutting with the hand not currently resting on your stomach.

That hadn’t been what you’d meant, but you wish he'd said something like that when you'd known him back in high school. You should've known back then that Seo Changbin has never wanted an actual relationship with you—not in the way that you want. Used to want.

No, your mind corrects. Look at how quickly he's wrapped you around his finger again. You absolutely still want him, regardless of what had happened in the past—there's no point in lying to yourself anymore. Maybe it'll be different this time.

You know that's a mistake to think. It has to be. But the way you feel is the truth—a part of you has hoped, since that fateful moment in the parking lot nearly four years ago, now, that you'd end up in this exact situation, with Changbin wanting you again. You've tried to lie to yourself for years. But you still know this isn't healthy.

You kiss him as an answer anyway.

~~~

You'd thought it had been easy to fall into a friendly routine with Changbin before, fitting into each other's schedules to study or watch movies like you'd made your schedules for each other. Falling into a friends-with-benefits routine is almost easier—he eats you out before class, or you suck him off after an exam he'd been particularly worried about, or the two of you fuck in between note-taking sessions. It works surprisingly well, and you think again that this is the only way you and Changbin seem to be able to work. And you're happy with that, even if you can't stop that ping in your heart every time he leaves almost immediately after cleaning the two of you up.

Your roommate catches him walking out one day as she returns to your apartment from class, and you wince at the thought of having to explain whatever the hell you and Changbin are—you hope she'll find it slightly awkward and just avoid the subject altogether.

You have no such luck.

Saori raises an eyebrow before gesturing to the door behind her. "Who was that?"

"Changbin," you say plainly, as if that explains anything. "He's a friend from high school."

She stares at you for a beat too long. "Just a friend?"

You take a moment too long to answer, and she immediately crosses the room to plop on the couch next to you. "Spill. Now."

And you do—you think you may have needed to tell someone about all of this a long time ago, because it seems like once you start, you can't stop, seemingly talking for hours.

The only time Saori interrupts you is at the end—she can tell you just need to vent. "So...why do you like this guy, again?"

You almost laugh, but you think the fact that it takes you a moment to think of an answer is telling in and of itself. "I...I always looked up to him in high school. I still do now—he's so talented, and smart, and funny, and it feels like a miracle that he wants to keep someone like me around."

She frowns at that. "Someone like you?' Y/N, you're one of the most talented, smartest, and funniest people I know. You've got everything this guy has and then some. Why are you so convinced he's out of your league?"

That is something you don't have an answer for. "I think I'm just happy to have him around at all, whatever that means."

Her eyes widen with concern. "Y/N...there's no way you don't hear how that sounds." She lets out a shallow laugh. "He's funny and cool, maybe, but he's still just a guy. Come on. You deserve better than someone who just gets to pick and choose when you get to do anything. Having a friend with benefits is one thing, if it's truly 'no strings attached,' but it's not, is it?" she asks softly. "I don't think it's ever been."

You wish you had an answer for you why'd become so fixated on Changbin—why you were willing to let him treat you this way, why you were so willing to let him be oblivious to your feelings. But you don't have one. Your heart had picked him a long time ago, and it's refused to let go ever since. Affection apparently does ridiculous things to people, after all. "So...should I tell him? How I feel?"

Saori licks her lips nervously. "I think so. I think you should cut off the friends-with-benefits for sure—it's not fair to either of you since you're obviously on different pages about it. And you deserve someone better who won't just look past how you obviously feel."

You know she's right. You know what it is that you have to do.

You just don't know if you can do it.

~~~

Changbin texts you the next day that's he's coming over to work on homework. Of course, you know what that's code for (sitting between his legs while he reworks the same song for the seemingly thousandth time), but you're convinced you can tell him what you need to tell him, that it's time to end this weird, vicious cycle you've wrapped yourselves in because of your own feelings. At least, you hope you can.

But you can tell something is different from the moment he walks in the door to your apartment—there's a strangeness in the way he's carrying himself, in the set of his shoulders that you know you've never seen from him before.

You try to discard the observation, attributing it to your own nerves about the situation as he sets his backpack down beside the coffee table and pulls out his laptop, offering you a brief smile before getting to work.

You let him work in silence for a bit, going through your own pages of notes to summarize what you need to for the essay that's due next week, but you can't focus on any of it in the slightest, the words on the pages all swirling around in your mind and combining into one massive mess at the forefront of your thoughts.

You set down your notes, clearing your throat to speak just as Changbin takes his headphones off and sets them aside on the couch. "Y/N," he starts, shifting in his seat. "Do you mind if we talk for a minute?"

You nod, maybe too quickly. "Yeah, I—I actually wanted to talk to you today, too."

He nods. "Okay—great. I, um—there's no easy way to say this, is there?"

You feel a lump forming in your throat. No way.

"I...I'm not sure if we should do...this," he says, gesturing with one hand at the space in between the two of you, "anymore. It's completely my fault—I think I've made it to be something in my head that it's not. If you're okay with going back to being friends, that's fine, but if you're not, I'd totally understand, too."

You don't know what to say. You're in shock, frankly, and you feel like your mouth may even be comically hanging open.

He's breaking off the friends-with-benefits. He wouldn't even let you have the moment of getting to decide it for yourself.

The haze that you've felt over your mind about Changbin for the past several months finally, finally evaporates—you see your emotions clearly for the first time. You feel like a shaken-up bottle of soda, and his words are the catalyst that finally flick the cap off.

You speak, finally. "I'm sorry—you're breaking it off? You think this is unhealthy?" You scoff. "You've got to be fucking joking."

Changbin frowns. It's obviously not the response he thought he was going to get from you. "Y/N, I—"

You don't let him finish. "Changbin, I...I've been practically head over heels for you since high school. I let you treat me however you wanted because for whatever reason, my stupid brain picked you, of all people, to fixate on. I was fine with just being friends. I was fine with being your occasional fling, all because I just wanted to be around you—and you're the one who thinks this is unhealthy?" You let out a short laugh. "You're right. It is. And I should've seen that a long, long time ago. So if anyone's calling this thing off, it's me."

Changbin stares at you for a long, long time—you almost keep going with what you've said before, just to break the uncomfortable silence you've created, before he opens his mouth to speak again. "You...you've liked me? Since high school?"

You throw your hands in the air in exasperation. "Yes!" you say. "I thought that was obvious."

He slowly shakes his head from side to side. "Y/N....I thought you'd hated me, after how fucking immature I was senior year."

You let out a sigh. "I wanted to. Believe me, I really, really wanted to—but I didn't. I was mad at you for a while, sure, but I've never hated you."

Changbin's eyes still haven't left yours. "I...Y/N, the reason I wanted to call this off is because I like you. I didn't say anything because I didn't dare think you could ever feel the same way after how stupid I was in high school, just treating you as a rebound when you deserve so much better than that. I was surprised that you were okay being friends with benefits, but I never let myself think you'd ever want anything more than that."

It takes you a long time to process everything he's just said. "...What?" you whisper. You think about how long you've wanted him to say something like that—you wonder if this is all a dream. Is it something you really still want to hear from him? "Changbin, I was going to call off the friends-with-benefits today because I'm tired of liking you and not doing anything about it. I...I never would have ever guessed that you felt the same way." You let out a nervous laugh as you shake your head in disbelief. "Why are we so fucking bad at being honest with each other?"

Changbin lets out an uneasy laugh too. "I don't know. I just didn't want to fuck this up—I like you too much for that. I didn't ever want to push you past what you were comfortable with, but I...I guess I still did. Y/N—I'm so, so sorry."

You can't believe this. You really can't—but this is real. Changbin's sitting in front of you, right now, and he's saying something you never thought you'd hear him say in your entire lifetime. "What about back in high school?" you ask, trying to keep the sudden nervousness out of your voice. "When you told me you didn't think this would work, that you'd moved on from your ex too quickly...dammit, Changbin, why did you do anything to begin with?"

He winces. "Y/N—I should have apologized for that a long time ago. I pushed you away from me back then because I was scared. I was eighteen, and an idiot, and I'd just gotten out a relationship that had lasted way too long and...and I was falling for you. Really fast. And that scared me, so the only thing I could think to do was push you away where I couldn't hurt you."

You take in his words for a moment. You think about how you would have done anything for him to say something like that three years ago—but maybe that was immature, too. Is he different now? Are you? Certainly—but clearly neither of you are any better at communicating how you feel, too afraid to step on the other's toes.

You let out another sigh, your breath still shaky. "This is...insane, honestly. I wish we could just start over, somehow—undo whatever the hell this is that we've gotten ourselves into."

He nods. "I...I think we can do that. If that's something you want—I'd be more than willing to try."

You laugh. "Changbin, I really—"

But you look down to see Changbin's outstretched arm pointing towards you before you can say anything else. "Hi," he says. "My name's Changbin. I like you."

You stare at his hand in utter disbelief—disbelief that he's doing this, disbelief that the two of you have gotten to this point that you never thought you'd get to—for only a moment before you clasp his hand in yours. "I'm Y/N," you say, decidedly. "I like you too."

It seems stupidly comical for the situation you've found yourselves in—but you both dissolve into laughter within an instant, mostly out of relief. "God, Y/N," Changbin says, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. If you can forgive me for being so stupid, I...I'll be amazed, honestly, but—I promise I'll be better. I'll do everything I can to be better."

You take a deep breath. "I need to be better, too," you say honestly. "I should've been upfront about how I felt so we didn't get into this mess of trying not to make the other person uncomfortable, even if we both felt the same way. If...if you want to try again, I'll do everything I can to be better, too."

Changbin nods. "I...I think you deserve better than me," he says, swallowing uneasily.

He's probably right. "I know," you say, and his expression doesn't change. "But for whatever reason, I don't want better than you. I still just want you."

The relief in his eyes is palpable as he lets a small, soft smile appear on his lips at your words. "Y/N...I know we just met," he says, his smile growing slightly wider at his own joke, "but—can I kiss you?"

You smile at him, too. "So forward," you tease, biting back a smile. "But yes, man I just met—you can kiss me."

That grin widens ever so slightly before he cups your cheek with his palm, leaning in to press his lips to yours. He kisses you, but it doesn't feel at all like that kiss you'd shared in Jisung's living room—rather, the soft touch of his lips to yours feels like that first kiss you'd ever had with him, on the couch of your childhood home, where you'd been so hopeful of what the future with him held.

You know that was foolish, now—but that was then. Now, that you're both older, better, smarter (maybe), determined to make a change and actually tell each other the things you feel when you feel them—you feel a new kind of hope for what you could have with Changbin.

Regardless of that, you still can't believe that you'd psyched yourself up last night to break your friends-with-benefits situation off with him, and now you're kissing him softly on your couch. "This doesn't feel real," you admit to him.

He grins at you. "It's real."

You shake your head, biting back a grin. "I don't believe you."

Changbin laughs at that. "You don't believe me? Damn. I guess I'll have to do something to make you believe this is real, then," he says, crashing his lips against yours again, gently winding his fingers through your hair and pulling you close to him, and he doesn't pull back away until both of you are gasping for breath.

"Well?" he asks, and you'd almost forgotten about what you'd started. "Did that feel real?"

You smile coyly, shaking your head. "No," you whisper. "I think I'm going to need a little more convincing than that."

You practically see the switch flip in his head when he finally, finally catches your meaning. "Hmm," he says, pretending to mull it over. "Let me see what I can do about that." Before you can blink, he's slid one hand under your knees and the other around your shoulders, lifting you into his arms with ease before he makes his way into your bedroom, tossing you haphazardly onto your bed before he crawls beside you, meeting your lips once more.

This is already decidedly different, and it warms your heart instantly—he’s only been in your room once or twice before, anyway. Your hookups before have almost always been in less-than traditional places, somewhere the two of you could get off quickly and hide the evidence quicker—a couch, his desk, that one time against the wall—but this is different. It's a small, minute difference, but it's practically night and day to you. It's a sign that this might be different.

So you kiss him back again, holding tighter to his arms above you as his hands slide down your body to tug at your hips. You feel him laugh softly when you shiver at the feeling of his hands on you, but his hands hover at the hem of your shirt—an unspoken question, but you know what he's asking. You take hold of his wrists and guide his hands under your shirt, and both of you let out a moan that feels positively electric as his hands skim your bare skin, running their way up to your chest and gently cupping, circling your nipples with his thumb before you tilts your head back against the pillow behind you, sighing into his mouth.

Changbin moves one of his hands out from under your shirt, feeling your breath on his fingers when he cups your chin with two fingers and brings your gaze back to his. "You're so beautiful, Y/N," he says.

He’s said this before, but you’ve never looked at each other this way, or for this long. There’s meaning behind what you feel now, not just unspoken hopes behind empty words, and that’s why your face flushes pink at his words, enough to bring a wider smile to his face at the reaction.

You lean your head to the side enough to kiss the inside of his wrist before he pulls his arm away. “You’re beautiful too, you know,” you say, and he grins back at you as his hands trail back down to the hem of your shirt, playing with the fabric gently. When he tugs it over your head, you let him, and you yank at the collar of his own shirt before he’s laughing, pulling his own shirt off to join yours on the floor beside your bed, just like how both of your pants and underwear follow until you’re both bare before each other—which, again, shouldn’t be anything new for either of you. It isn’t, frankly, but there is something new in the atmosphere, and you know he feels it too. There’s none of your usual hurriedness to disrobe each other, to get everything started as soon as possible so it can be over as soon possible, too—instead, his hands on yours are unbearably tender, rubbing over the skin of your arms, legs, and stomach softly like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you. You’re vulnerable underneath him in a way you’ve never been before—he knows your heart, now, and you know his.

He doesn’t stop the tender touches, squeezing reassuringly at your hips while he gives soft bites to the skin of your thighs, smoothing over the skin with his tongue before moving to where he knows you want him—where you need him. You shiver just at the feeling of his breath between your legs, and you know he can feel it when he smirks up at you. “You okay?” he asks teasingly.

You roll your eyes. “I should be, unless you keep taking your sweet time down—ah!” You cut yourself off inadvertently when he lays the flat of his tongue against you, licking one long stripe up your slit.

You feel him laugh quietly against you, the vibrations of his voice against your cunt enough to make you squeeze your thighs together, but he’s wrapping both arms around both your legs and pushing them further apart before you can even protest.

You cry out when he moves ever so slightly further upward, sucking hard at your clit that doesn’t take him any time at all to find, now—he knows your body so well, even if his hands on your skin are as gentle as if it’s your first time. It’s not long before he lets go of one of your thighs, moving a hand down so he can slip a finger, then two beside his tongue, pushing and curling in and out at an achingly slow pace to get you to beg for him—and you do.

“Ngh—Changbin,” you pant, grasping the ends of his hair in your hand. “Please.”

He increases the speed of his fingers ever so slowly as he pulls his mouth away from you, breath ghosting over your pussy. “You want me to make you come, sweet girl?”

You shake your head. You’ve never said no to him before, that’s for sure, but you can’t wait any longer. You need him inside of you—now. “Want you,” you manage to get out. “Need you inside of me.”

Changbin lets out a deep exhale. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groans as he pulls himself above you. “You really always know what to say.”

You very nearly laugh at that before you see him stroking himself once, twice, taking his bottom lip in his teeth with a hiss at the sight of you before lining his member up with your entrance. It’s a stretch you’ve grown accustomed to, certainly, but it still burns slightly as he pushes into you, watching your face when he finally bottoms out, hips against yours while he waits for you to tell him he can move.

You nod, wordlessly, and he leans down to land a quick kiss to your nose before he finally, finally starts to move inside of you. He starts at that same teasing pace as before, obviously enjoying the look of frustration on your face as you grasp at his shoulders. “What is it, Y/N?” he asks sweetly, grinning at you while he slowly fucks into you.

“‘Bin,” you gasp out when he just barely misses that spot inside of you that usually makes you see stars—and you know he’s doing it on purpose, too. Bastard. “Fuck me. Please.”

You see his grin drop almost immediately, clenching his jaw at your words and the nickname that you know drives him wild. “Baby,” he starts, grabbing a hold of the sheets on either side of your head as he starts fucking into you faster, rolling his hips into you the way he knows you like. “If you ask like that, I’ll never say no.”

Just the sight of him like this has you near the edge—none of that usual hurried nature, his eyebrows knit together as he tries to focus on being quiet enough so the two of you can make it last as long as possible—no, now he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you hung the stars in the sky, the same stars that you see in his adoring eyes now.

You can only take so much of his beautifully intense gaze, though, paired with the bruising pace he starts to keep up between your legs, and you turn your head to the side in an attempt to muffle your moans against the pillow beside you.

Changbin, of course, will have absolutely none of that. He lets go of the sheets on one side to grab your chin again, tilting your head back towards his face, keeping you you from looking away. “Nuh-uh,” he chides, tightening his grip on your chin ever so slightly. “Let me see your pretty face like this, while you’re being so good for me.”

You let out another moan at his words, especially when he moves his other hand down to draw tight, slick circles on your clit. “Fuck,” you gasp, digging your fingers into his shoulders, pulling him as close to you as you can manage. “Feels so good—Changbin—”

He’s heard that warning tone in your voice enough to know what it means. “Feels so good for me too, baby—shit. I can’t believe I get to have you like this,” he groans as you tighten around him. “All mine.”

You are his—have been for probably longer than either of you knows. So you nod. “I’m yours,” you repeat, and you think his eyes nearly darken immediately at the admission. He swallows, nodding too.

“Mine.”

The sound of his skin slapping against yours fills the room, as crude as ever, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, no, not as his deft fingers speed up their ministrations against your clit while he continues to fuck you as hard as he can, coiling that pleasure below your stomach into a tight knot until you finally feel it snap with a cry of his name, shuddering as you arch your back against him—and Changbin isn’t far behind you, grabbing one side of your waist hard enough that you know you’ll have marks tomorrow as he thrusts back into you three, four more times before he reaches his own climax, stilling inside of you.

For a brief instant, you halfway expect him to pull out, clean the two of you up quickly, and leave for his own apartment the way he has before—but he doesn’t. Changbin lies there, on top of you with his forehead pressed lightly to yours, him softening inside of you for a few beautiful, quiet moments—at least, until you think you might stop breathing if he doesn’t get off of you. You shove at him lightly, but he gets the message, grinning against you before he rolls over to one side, keeping an arm slung around you while he gazes at the ceiling, the both of you slowly catching your breath in gradual exhales.

Now this, certainly, is different. You’d never let yourself lay in the afterglow with him like this, too afraid of the conclusions your hopeless romantic brain would draw if you let him hold you as you both came down from your highs, but he never stayed around very long afterwards, either. Now you know it may have very well been for the same reason.

He kisses the crown of your hair before pulling back to meet your gaze once more. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

You almost feel like you’ve gotten whiplash from the question, seemingly coming out of nowhere. “What?”

Changbin’s grin widens slightly. “Can I take you out? On a real date? If you…you know, still want to try this.”

Oh. You laugh softly, feeling every worry you’ve had dissipate like a puddle under the warm sun. “Yes, Changbin. I’ll go out with you.”

He makes a show of wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. “Thank goodness.”

You continue to lay there, gazing at each other in an unbelievably loving way for longer than you could have ever anticipated Changbin to have the patience for—but you don’t feel uncomfortable under that gaze at all, occasionally moving a hand to comb through his hair as he strokes a thumb over your cheek.

You suppose you have no real way of knowing if this will be better than how your relationship with Changbin has been before—he’s said he’ll be better. You’ve said you’ll be better. What else can you go off of? All you can do, you think, is hope that you—the both of you—are better. That you’ll both do better for each other. It’s what you both deserve.

And as you feel his heartbeat slow down against you, his hands gently stroking the small of your back while he holds you as close to his chest as he can, you feel more optimistic about your chances of this—this beginning, the ending of the old chapter and the start line of a decidedly new one—occurring than you have in a long, long time.

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @quinnsmindpalace​

©️ noramoons 2021-2022. do not translate or reupload my writing.

#stray kids oneshot #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #changbin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz smut #skz angst #changbin smut #changbin angst #stray kids fic #skz fic #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin smut #seo changbin angst #beck writes ✍️

[catcze]

⠀「 Feel my heart 」 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 FEAT : 」 Diluc. Childe, Kokomi, Thoma (separate) x gn! reader

「 ### : 」 Fluff ! Comfort, cute smooches & just good feels all around. A little ooc? Because of softness. ‘Love’ used to refer to the reader. 

Collab entry for my beloved @anantaru​ & @bluexiao​ ‘s Sweet N Spice collab ♡

Catch me cramming these like how I crammed my paper last semester lmao

⠀ 「 DILUC 」

Parties ! Absolutely fun and festive ! A grand excuse to dress up and mingle, and the promise of an enjoyable time! And free food ! To everyone except Diluc, maybe. Though he can appreciate a good party, the crowdedness of it (not to mention how his time wasted there could very well be more useful hunting the abyss order) was often a turn off.

Not to you though! The moment you caught sight of the fancy-schmancy party invite at the Goth Grand Hotel that he was prepared to throw out, you asked and asked and asked him to go. Pleaded. Whined. Pulled out every trick in the goddamn book to get him to bring you as his plus one.

“Do you even know how to dance?” You still remember him asking, arms crossed and a quirk in his brow. How naive of him, thinking such a menial thing would deter you. “Nope!” You say, smiling. “But you’re going to teach me.”

And this is how you find yourself getting the crash-iest crash course on dancing for rich people that you’ve ever heard of. Day in and day out for the last three weeks— Diluc Ragnvinder, the supposed love of your life, has put you through some of the most grueling shit you can ever dream of. It almost makes you think twice about going, but no way in hell are you about to see him be smug over you accepting defeat.

But, to be fair, merely three weeks into it, and according to Diluc, you probably won’t get roasted by the other members of society attending the event. Not to your face, at least. Probably. Hopefully.

“Caught your breath?” Diluc asks, approaching your starfished form on the ground. There’s an empty glass of water not to far away— a good sign, despite the almost-corpse of his beloved currently unmoving. 

You don’t respond to his question, merely moving to roll away from his voice and grumble some non-savory words under your breath. 

“You can always call it quits, you know. There isn’t even any practical need to go.” Even without seeing his face, you can practically hear the amused little quirk at the corner of his mouth, and by the archons, feel free to call it petty, but you feel life rush back through your cold, dead limbs, if only to stick it to the amused redhead looking over you. 

Getting to your feet is a chore and a half, and you’re definitely going to pass out the moment you get to bed, but you still manage to get back up. Diluc looks impressed, if anything. Either from your stubbornness or your drive, you’re not entirely sure. At the very least, your short water break had left you slightly better off with less sway in your step.

“You’ve made good progress, love. I think we can try to dance the full length of a song today, just before we finish up,” Diluc says, taking your hands in his.

You perk up at his words, exhaustion momentarily gone. “Really? But… there’s no music, though.”

“Music.”

“I mean— yeah.” You shrug. “It would be good for… for immersion.” Then you double down on your bullshit. “Mhm. Yup. Immersion.” You’re nodding to yourself now, self-assured in your words. Diluc just looks on for a second before he sighs, all too easily bending to you when you want something.

“Alright,” he acquiesces, looking like he’s trying very hard not to drag a hand down his face. “Well, what do you propose we do about this lack of music.”

“Youuu… could sing for me?”

It’s like he visibly blanches at the prospect.

All your exhaustion gone at the opportunity that presents itself, you easily sidle up to him, intertwining your fingers together. “C’mon ‘Luc, please? Just this once, I swear, then we’ll go to sleep and go at it again tomorrow and you won’t have to sing! I promise.”

Another deep breath, and Diluc looking like he’s weighing the choice between doing as you ask and jumping out the window right then and there, but eventually— “Alright, fine. Just once.”

Immediately, your grin is blinding, like you’ve just been hooked up to a power source. You giddily press a kiss to his nose, already spewing out your thanks.

“Just this once, really! You’re the best, Diluc.”

He sighs, knowing that, despite what he’s said, if you ask again, he’s too whipped to ever tell you no. Not that he minds too much, if it makes you so happy. “Love you, too.”

⠀ 「 CHILDE 」

He’s a harbinger— someone who’s made his fair share of enemies and seen his fair share of shit. Undoubtedly, there’s a long list of people that he has to watch his back for.

And now that he’s dragged you into his mess (though you’d argue that you willingly walked into the shitfest that is dating a harbinger) he’s extra jumpy when nighttime comes.

It didn’t bother you at first— it was kind of along the lines of Childe to be like that. But it did become worrisome when you see the bags under his eyes darken, and the weariness in his smile grow.

“Childe,” you call, brows furrowed. “Come inside— it’s late.”

From where he stands at the balcony overlooking the harbor in all its nighttime glory, Childe turns back to smile at you over his shoulder. It would be a pretty picture, you think— the person who treats you right and makes you happy, illuminated by the glowing lights of the beautiful city of contracts. The only thing that detracts from it is the heavy bags under his eyes, visible in even this low light.

“I’ll be right in. Feel free to go to sleep ahead of me,” is what Childe says, and a muscle in your jaw twitches.

Each step you take on the floor is audible in the silence that grows between you. When you’re just a few steps away, you scoff, eyes narrowing. “You look like shit, you know that?” Childe doesn’t even bother to rebut with an easygoing quip, knowing that it’s all too true.

“C’mon, Childe. Even you have to sleep sometime.” Gently, you take a hold of his wrist, tugging him backwards and away from the balcony rail. He doesn’t even bother to put up a resistance— maybe it’s because he’s too tired and he knows you’re all too right, but he lets you pull him back into the warmth of your space and to your bedroom, where you sit him down at the edge of your bed and stand before him. With a concerned frown, you reach up to cup his face and gently rub at the bags under his eyes with your thumb, and he lets you, head going limp against your hold. 

“You’re very overdue for some long, uninterrupted sleep,” you tell him matter-of-factly, cradling his head. “Is there any way I can help?”

“Sing for me?” He asks quietly, eyelids already drooping. “That Snezhenayan lullaby that I taught you. Please?”

“I… don’t know,” you tell him. “I doubt I can even pronounce all the words correctly—”

“Please?”

“…I… Alright.”

And by the archons did you try your hardest for him. Despite tripping over some of the more unfamiliar words, and fumbling the tune once or twice, damn it, you tried. And when you stopped for a breath and glanced at your redhead curled up on the bed, you could deem it all worth it— seeing him finally getting some rest was all you ever wanted.

⠀ 「 KOKOMI 」

A visitor to Watatsumi island. That’s all you ever were, at first. A traveling musician making the most of the Sakoku decree being lifted to finally see the entirety of Inazuma. Who would eventually leave to find other sources of inspiration.

That is, though, until the day that Kokomi wanders the streets of Borou Village and comes across the children laughing and dancing. In the center is you, playing your music and singing songs of adventure from far-off lands. 

“Feel free to seek me out whenever you’re in need of music, divine priestess,” you had told her that day.

“Good morning, Kokomi— I see you’re once more in need of my songs,” you greet with a smile, easily spotting the figure robed in pink and purple. As you approach, it’s like your very presence brings a song— one that soothes her stresses and has her forgetting the work that she had escaped from.

The divine priestess sighs, her poise slipping from her just the slightest bit. It’s a sight you can never grow tired of, seeing her so relaxed in your presence. “You can certainly say that,” Kokomi replies, already beginning to instinctively walk in the direction of the tree with the nook that she had begun to call her own space. You easily keep stride with her, already familiar with the path after so long. “It seems that there are problems popping up around Watatsumi one after the other. I always try my best to remedy them as soon as possible but alas— there is only so much even a divine priestess can do.”

“And it seems like you’ve still be trying to do more what you can do despite many people telling you to take it easy. Myself included, I’ll have you know.”

The divine priestess laughs, shaking her head, though you both already know that it’s true.

The walk to Kokomi’s hideout is a quick and easy one, and in no time at all you find yourselves at the foot of the beautiful tree. Kokomi finds her place on a fallen log, her view consisting of both you and the sprawling sight of the island. 

“So,” you start with a smile, settling down beside her, close enough that your sides touch and you can smell the ocean breeze on her clothes. “What kind of story are you interested in today, dearest priestess?”

As you count off all the stories you know —both ones that you’ve already regaled to her and ones that you haven’t— you count them off on your fingers. “There’s the story of the fair, tragic maiden who used to sing at the fountain in Mondstadt, or the green-clad hunter who once roamed the forests of Sumeru, or, actually, I don’t believe I had told you the story of Guili Assembly yet—“

You’re cut off, though, when Kokomi places a hand on yours, preventing you from holding any more fingers up. Your mouth dries, eyes staring at her in both surprise and intrigue.

“Actually the song I want to hear about today… would be about you, actually. If you don’t mind, of course!” She’s quick to correct herself. “I just realized that you’ve told me so many wonderful stories of the places you’ve been but… I don’t know as much about you as I would like to. A song about yourself— are you… would you sing that for me?”

It takes you a moment— one that you spend staring at her, wide eyed as you process her request. Then you smile, intertwining your hand with hers, reveling in the blush you see grow on her face. “I’d be more than happy to, priestess.”

⠀ 「 THOMA 」

It’s no secret that Thoma is a hard worker. He cooks, he cleans, he attends to the Kamisato Clan to the best of his ability. He does his best, but sometimes even he —the housekeeper extraordinare— falls a bit short.

The days have just been a bit busy, and with another festival coming up, the entire Yashiro commission has been in a tizzy trying to get everything sorted out. It certainly hadn’t been his intention to leave you for so long (even though you told him you understood.)

So as soon as he could, he cleared his schedule for you. Took you out for the afternoon in Inazuma city, spending time together petting the dogs and eating good food, with the intention to end it off watching the stars together in the cliffs by the estate.

“Today was really nice, Thoma,” you tell him, hand in his as you both sit on the cliff, legs dangling in the wind as you gaze upon the stars.There’s a small smile on your face as you glance away from him, too bashful to meet his gaze. “I’m… really glad we did this. I missed you a bunch, you know?”

Thoma gives your joined hands a squeeze, leaning in to place a soft kiss to your cheek that only serves to fluster you even more. “I’m glad too,” he admits, giving you back your space, but not letting go of your hand. “I was scared you’d want to break up with me after all that, y’know?”

At this, you snort, having to reign yourself back from bursting into laughter. “Really? Please, it’s gonna take much more than that to make me wanna break up with you.”

“Like?”

“Like stealing my food for example.”

Now it’s his turn to snort, jokingly shoving your shoulder with his own. “Even if I’m the one paying?”

“Hey, the moment that food is on my side of the table, you lose all custody, my guy.”

He laughs, then, and you join him not a second later. The two of you go back and forth for some time— bantering and joking and (on occasion) stealing quick kisses from the other. It’s something you had missed greatly when he was busy— this ease of being together. How it feels so easy and fun to talk about even the most mundane things with him.

“You know,” Thoma says suddenly, cutting into your previous topic. His eyes are trained on the ocean and the stars that settle in the sky, a wistfulness overtaking him. “When I was still with my mom in Mondstadt, she taught me this song. I only remember bits and pieces of it now, but she said that it was something that my dad had written for her, as a sign of his love.”

“You only remember bits and pieces?” You echo, and he nods. You fall silent for a while, mulling things over. “Can you… sing it for me?”

“Even if it’s not whole?” He asks, tilting his head, though he hadn’t refused. 

“Yeah! And I mean—“ there’s the bashfulness again, creeping back in little by little. “I mean, we can… try to fill in the gaps ourselves? Kinda like we’re writing our own song, you know?”

Thoma’s silent for a moment, still as he looks at you, and it’s almost enough to make you nervous and apologize instead. But he takes your joined hand and squeezes it, smiling to himself. “ Our own song… yeah, I’d like that a lot, actually.”

#Diluc x reader #Diluc Ragnvinder x reader #Childe x reader #Kokomi x reader #Sangonomiya Kokomi x reader #Thoma x reader #Genshin Impact x reader #bloru.sweetnspice #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #cw gn reader

[faithfulcat111]

Stonathan Sunday

"Alright, who am I beating up?"

Jonathan couldn't help but smile as he watched his boyfriend try desperately to follow along with the kids' overlapping answers and defences to that question. It seemed he still hadn't learned that you must pick one to specifically answer or it was just utter chaos.

"But why were you guys harassing this James-kid anyway?"

Then again, Steve was always the best at somehow following along with what the kids were saying. Probably all the practice he got from listening to Robin and Vicki helped.

"Sounds like you brought that on yourself, Dustin."

Jonathan tried to tune back into what the kids had started arguing about. Something about a biology class and betrayals when it came to lab partners. Probably stemming from the fact that only five of them were in the class. Which meant someone had to pick a non-Party member to be their lab partner. And apparently, Dustin had drawn the short straw. Which had led to him being shuffled through multiple lab partners because none of the other students could put up with him in a science class like the other Party members could. Jonathan had felt sorry for him the first couple of times. He knew what it was like to have to be shuffled around on a partner project or in a lab class because no one wanted to work with the creepy kid. Then he realized that Dustin had sort of brought it on himself.

"Look, there is only a couple of weeks left of the semester, right?" Steve was rubbing at his brow again. "You guys agreed to re-draw straws after Christmas Break last summer. Whoever gets Dustin as their partner, just stick with him. And whoever gets the short straw, behave." He focused his glare on Mike and Max, which fair.

The kids wandered away, exploring the woods behind the Byers house, and Jonathan shuffled closer to Steve, "I think we should head inside."

Steve turned in confusion, keeping his voice low to match Jonathan's volume, "Why? You getting tired? Feeling alright?"

"Just tired," Jonathan lied, his eyes focused on the tension he could see building in Steve's shoulders and neck. They had a huge talk last summer themselves about actually reaching out when they needed help or weren't feeling well because they both tended to push it down. Jonathan wasn't sure how Steve hadn't picked up yet on Jonathan's tendency to only mention anything when he noticed Steve wasn't feeling well, but he was sure Steve was doing the same somehow. So, really, fair was fair. He let Steve lead him inside, out of the nippy cold that always came before it snowed.

#stonathan sunday #faith writes #stonathan #jonathan byers #steve harrington #the party #ngl this is all i wrote this week #i've been tired and editing is more enjoyable right now #so no six sentence sunday this week #more winter fluff

[mrsackermannx]

Have fun chp39

minors and ageless blogs DNI

click here for one shot masterlist

pairing: levi ackerman/afab reader one shot

word count: 5.1k

synopsis: after years of tension you and levi are left alone together for a week. it turns out that neither of you can hold back any longer.

tags: college au levi, afab reader, mentions of weed, degradation (slut is used), dom levi, unprotected sex, minor anal play, choking, sexual tension, orgasm denial.

author’s note: i might have to do a part 2 omg. i really enjoyed writing mean levi after so long and i haven’t written something this intense in a while it felt like a horny purge! i wish i was as studious as reader rn but anyway…

###

"I'm not highly strung!" You groaned into your coffee, shooting your best friend a glare. "Hange, seriously."

They sighed but swatted you fondly regardless. You met Hange in your first semester and have been inseparable ever since. The platonic yin to your yang, the best friend you never had but always needed. The kind of best friend young girls yearn for when all the bullshit that comes with growing up arrives. 

"Well! You areee though, Levi too. I don't know what I'm gonna do with the two of you. Seriously, you should have seen what I walked in on Erwin doing last week. He had this guy bent-"

"Yeah yeah, well lucky for you, you have a week not to worry about any of us," you mumbled, continuing to type. "I'm glad Erwin's getting some. And you too-"

"I'm just saying, this is what college is for right? Drinking, fucking—wait scratch that sober is great! We can always be sober! But like fucking, socialising-"

"We're in the fucking library!" You hissed.

They groaned but pitched their voice down to a whisper, "Experiences like that are downright integral to the college-"

"Hange! I've gotta submit this by 12pm! I promise all of your plants will be watered and that all of your fish will be fed in your absence!" 

Levi caught your eye as he approached the usual corner occupied by you all between classes. Except Erwin and Moblit were in class, so Hange was rattling with caffeine and trying to push you to download tinder again.

Levi raised a brow at you in a silent hello before sitting down beside you, an apple lodged in his mouth. "You could try tinder again!"

Even Levi groaned at the mention on your behalf.

"Fuuck off!" You grumbled into your palm, feigning annoyance but still breaking into laughter. "Did you forget about last time?"

"Okay, fine! Fair enough!"

"I'm going to enjoy this week of silence. Hear that, silence? No roommates, just Levi down the hall."

You agreed to take care of Hanji's fish and plants whilst they and Moblit took a week trip abroad together. Some ski-resort somewhere beautiful, screw them both. You told them if you don't receive tons of photos you're letting their favourite cactus die. 

Erwin was supposed to be home with you and Levi too, but as he's inheriting his fathers company after graduation he spends more time in New York than on campus anymore. 

When Hange asked you initially you'd wanted to say no, but your roommates had been driving you crazy. Eren fucked girls like it was going out of fashion, Jean yelled out explosively during early hours whilst gaming, and Armin was never even home to complain to or study with anymore (god knows what he was getting up to).

Your eyes flashed to Levi's forearms, the veins were prominent today...Your eyes drifted along them until you realised his attire, a form fitting slinky black gym shirt, and loose shorts. It also explained the black cap. He'd been to the gym. Fuck, he was all pumped-

"Hungry?" he asked absently, typing with one hand.

You hummed just as distantly, watching him rotate the apple to where he'd not bitten it. As it brushed your lips you stalled. 

The realisation suddenly hit you as to who you were spending a whole week with. 

He turned to you, a glint in his eye. "Bite," he ordered calmly. 

You nodded, feeling your cheeks burn under the library air conditioning. You took a bite, his eyes still in yours. Then he took a bite from the same side you'd bitten from, a smirk on his lips before he turned back to his computer. 

This unsaid thing you had with Levi was arguably the most exciting yet daunting thing that contributed to your college life experience. When you went to parties, you and Levi were often left together, drunk and conversing with one another. 

Sometimes his hands lingered, sometimes you fell asleep with your head on his lap. After all, you spent more time at Hange's than your own place.

Your mouth went dry when Hange introduced you both in the beginning. It was still humid even though it was fall, he was topless, back from a run and about to shower. 

But it was more than his killer physique or the calm and silent way he always knows when you're not at your best. The blunt texts to come over and eat something "fucking healthy for once. Hange gets sad when you're away, come eat."

The way he massages your shoulders when you're studying sometimes, swapping your coffee for tea and hearing no arguments. The way he breaches your bubble, pulling away your headphones to massage your temples. "You're hopeless," he tells you. But he's speaking more to himself and the fanciful images his brain paints of you.

—

You stretched out your arms at Hange's desk, having unpacked all of your clothes and toiletries for the next several days. You were all settled in, if not a little on edge with Levi a few doors away for the next seven days though. 

You'd spent a few hours finishing up some assignments so you could spend the weekend bingeing on some shows guilt free and avoiding the outside world.

Levi was silent, so much so you'd assumed that he was spending this Friday night at some party or other social function.

But a soft knock at your door reminded you that he'd never left, he'd have told you first. "You know about these?" Levi asked, exasperation clinging to his voice as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Two blunts settled at the bottom of the clear plastic sandwich bag he was holding. "I wouldn't mind smoking tonight, but I hate the smell."

There was a sticky note sellotaped to it, "For when you two are ready to act like college students! Have fun! 

Hange, Erwin."

"Ha, ha. Classic, right? Where'd they leave those?"

"On my nightstand," he deadpanned, leaning against the doorframe.

Fuck, he was wearing sweatpants. 

"For real?..." You performed a clumsy but determined reroute of your vision. Instead you glanced at the clock. 10pm.

"And you only just found them now?"

He gestured toward you vaguely, "I was at my desk." His brow rose, as if to say, the same thing as you idiot.

You licked your lips, "Ha, same."

Levi liked seeing you like this. All casual and in your own element. Not dressed up or for anyone else's consumption except for your own. 

He only ever saw you like this when you woke up here at his place. When you all fall asleep on the couch after hours of laughter, debate, and pizza. 

Warmth surfaces in his chest at the sight of you like this. So familiar, so understated. So only the sight you let your closest people see, so his. 

Your hands tensed into fists above your knees. 

The tension was so thick that one match could burn down this entire apartment complex. 

Satin shorts fell around your thighs, and you wore a long sleeved v neck top. Teasing slithers of your sternum and your nipples that were hardening by the second. Were these your pyjamas?

Cute.

He folded his arms and you almost forgot yourself for a moment. "Up for it?"

"For what?" you immediately garbled as heat rushed to your core.

He did a smoking gesture with two fingers and you melted, a deep sensuality brewing in the way he was eyeing you. He huffed your name, "Fuck me, gardening? What else?" he spat.

"Oh! I-fuck you!" You laughed as nonchalantly as you could muster, "One sec. Let me save this file and store some readings I found."

"Sure. I've got all the time in the world." 

"Oh yeah?" You chuckled wryly, making a point to rise from your seat as you fiddled with your mouse. "Just gotta save this...upload that." 

"Okay good, so you'll be quick?"" He muttered a silent 'fuck' behind you, resisting the urge to bite down on his knuckles for heavens sake. 

"Mm, mm! Will take me two seconds..." When the gentle breeze billowing through the window hit the back of your thighs you realised you'd made a huge fucking mistake.

You were wearing shorts, and quite literally jutting out your behind for him to feast on. It felt too late to back down now.

You jabbed at the keys below you, searching for your bookmark folders for the various assignments you'd compiled research for. Your brain was suddenly going to literal shit. His eyes were burning through your behind, you could practically feel them caressing your skin. 

He called your name, but you were so used to his nagging you were immune to it as you fumbled

through all of your chrome tabs. So, you continued saving the readings you had loaded up to use for citations later. 

"What's this for?" His voice ghosted your skin and the heat of his body utterly smashed through your barrier of personal space. Curse his silent creeper footsteps. Fuck him. 

Your voice disappeared. Your heart pounding in your chest. His arm slid under yours and you sucked in a breath. His hand settled over yours, pushing your pointer finger until the mouse clicked, so he could toggle and skim at your documents.

Levi really has no concept of personal space sometimes. 

You all but gulped, "Someone's nosy."

"Curious." He firmly corrected, his chin now brushing your shoulder. "I mean well done, you've got a good system here."

The simplest of praise from Levi always made your knees a little wobbly. 

"Can you just let me save my shit?" You nudged him, but the heat of him was still stifling you. 

His hand moved from yours but then he realised he had no idea how he'd gotten in this position with you. Now his arm was leant under your own, palm flattened against the desk. You'd smacked it aside so you could monopolise the mouse instead. 

He'd glanced up from his phone to catch your ass so shamelessly offered in his direction and his body had moved for him. And now here he was, his mouth growing dry at you in these skimpy little shorts just centimetres away. Fuck you. 

He kept his lower body pulled back from yours, but he dithered a moment. His own breath was becoming hard to control, especially as his eyes scanned over your pretty face while you focused. 

"Might as well just sit back down and finish up, I'll go set up my room," he said, swallowing every few words 

"Just give me a sec! I don't wanna lose this page. You're fucking stressing me out by hulking over me like this."

 You refused to look at him, you could already feel him grinning at the way you'd tripped on your words a little. Fuck that. 

A tiny tsk sound ghosted your earlobe and you stifled a giggle at the familiar sound. He finally moved, sitting down in the desk chair beside you instead.

He sighed, drumming his fingers against the desk.

"Vi, you're being annoying."

He didn't think this through, now he could see the way your ass was peaking through your shorts. The material was so thin—too thin. Were you even wearing panties under those?

He sighed into his palm, quieting his filthy mind with an absent scroll through his phone.

"You took the fucking chair..." you hissed under your breath, tilting the computer monitor. But before Levi could think of a snarky remark you'd plonked yourself onto his lap and his phone had smacked face down onto the floor.

You regretted it instantly, having been driven completely by the incessant throbbing between your legs. 

"Sorry!" 

"No worries, I'll grab it in a minute, just hurry up."

Levi's inner voice was cursing so much it would make a sailor blush.

"This has been more than a few seconds, you know?" His tone was shorter now, strained and moodier than him in the mornings. 

"Please. While I understand this concept I want to finish the last paragraph, then I can fully relax for the weekend," you bluffed, though with complete sincerity.

"Whatever."

He only accepted because your voice sounded so sweet. You only ever talk to him like that.

The warmth of you was making his skin flush. He couldn't help but envision all the other things you could both be doing in this position.

A hand of his drifted to rest on your thigh. You felt your cunt throb in need at the close proximity teasing it just inches away. How much longer could you do this?

Then he started drumming his fingers, so close, the subtle vibrations making you grow slicker. You didn't dare say a word about it, especially because he only moved his tapping from the desk to your thigh to piss you off even more.

But as the minutes passed by, you found yourself wondering, how many telltale signs Levi was being polite enough to ignore. 

"Maybe you are boring," he began, chuckling when you whipped around to scowl at him. His hand stilled now, his thumb stroking against the sensitive part of your inner thigh. He handled you with such subtle possession it made your brain foggy, unable to think of anything else but him.

"It's a Friday night, you've got weed. Company that isn't two tall idiots that exceed the cities alloted decibels." 

You chortled at that, making Levi's stomach swim with an emotion he quickly shoves aside. 

"You're worse than me, too. Studying for hours like this." 

"I don't know what to say, just entertain yourself. For five more minutes!" you groaned, typing as fast as you could to make it believable. Just two more sentences and then you could make a break for it to-

"Entertain myself?" he repeated.

His hand shifted until it was fitted snugly between your legs, his knuckles nudging your thighs wider. "I suppose I could think of some entertainment quite easily. Some things I could do right here, right now," he purred dangerously against your neck.

You had no idea how you were keeping your composure. His hand was drawing so close, you could feel how hot your sex was becoming. 

He drew a single finger toward the heat between your legs and you hissed in defeat. Palm closing over your mouth to muffle your breaths, "Levi?"

"Mm? Want me to stop? Because I will." He inched closer, his chest pressing against your back. "Why'd you stop typing? I thought you were a good student?"

Your fingers returned to the keyboard, but this time with a disjointed flow and broken concentration. "Can't answer my question? Can you?"

"Don't be a dick?" You'd meant to say a command but you'd asked a question. Oh yeah. You were definitely fucked.

"I know, you're too embarrassed to let me see that you've soaked these cute little shorts? Aren't you?"

He teased the hem of your shirt, before he slid his hand underneath it, gripping at your breasts before settling it over your throat. "I asked you a question, you're not a stupid girl, are you?"

"No, Levi," you whimpered. 

His voice softened as his lips pressed against your nape. "Then answer me and stop being a brat. You're better than that." 

"Don't stop," You hissed, "There. I said something."

His mouth felt so good as he explored your skin, sucking and kissing until you moaned. "No, you didn't. You're embarrassed by how wet your pussy is, and I want to know why." 

You groaned a curse into his hair in response. "I can't say something like that."

"Your body's already talking for you." His fingers ripped aside the gusset of your silk shorts. The sodden fabric soiling his fingers. "She's telling me how much she needs a cock inside of her— but you?"

"I do! Wanna tell you!" You moaned and tried to garner some stimulation from his fingers, but they were already gone.

His fingers shined with your slick. Levi sighed so erotically in your ear at the sight you felt yourself drip tenfold upon the seat cushion. 

"God, what a fucking mess you've made. All alone too. Being sat on my lap made you this slutty? You couldn't control yourself?" 

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. The words on the computer screen blended into nothing. "I couldn't help it," you offered weakly. Levi lifted and then repositioned you with ease, slack jawed at the slick darkening the crotch of his light grey sweats.

He sighed deeply behind you, fuck you were too good. Offering yourself up like this, needy and already so fucked out. 

"I had no idea you needed to be fucked so badly..." He shifted your shirt up, gripping your tits until you moaned. "You just need to be fucked, don't you, baby? Go on, say it." 

Your voice was barely above a whisper. "Need you, Vi. I need to be...fucked." 

"Don't be shy about it now, how can you? You've even soiled my pants. Did you think I wouldn't realise?" he mocked. 

You shook your head. "Don't know..."

"What didn't you know?" 

"I-"

He wrapped his hand around your throat once more. He didn't squeeze it, but he rubbed at your pulse point. "You were trying to buy time, weren't you?"

"Maybe," you all but squeaked out. "Think you know everything, huh? Maybe I wanted to finish my paper."

"Oh? I think I've had enough of your bratty little attitude today." His hand squeezed the sides of your neck, until all you could focus on was the deep throbbing in your core.

He shifted his hips underneath you, delighting in the noise that parted your lips at the sensation of him so hard and now rutting against you. 

"My god, what about you huh? What's got you like that?"

He tugged aside your gusset once more, exposing your pussy to the cool air of Hange's bedroom. "You, like this. No panties, dripping just from being sat on my lap and being so fucking embarrassed about it.”

"Stop fucking teasing me, please. I'm begging." 

"You're begging? So you're finally saying that you want me to play with this messy pussy of yours?"

"I do, I want you to touch me. Please, your fingers. Anything."

"I'll play with it, I'll touch it just for you, I'll even make you come. You just have to wait a little longer." 

No voice should be so husky and seductive like his is, it's a weapon. That's what it is, it's hypnotising, dumbing, downright unfair. 

"Please, I'm gonna fucking explode," you hissed, pulling aside the shorts yourself. "Don't be so mean. Please, do something—anything."

He gripped your neck with even more claim, making you whimper at the switch. "Don't tell me what to do, you fucking brat. You don't have the right to give me any commands right now. Not when you're so desperate." 

But Levi's own resolve was slipping. So finally, his thumb brushed your clit and you gasped out for air. Your chest heaving at the contact.

"Fuck it's all swollen, isn't it? Your clit." He circled it with his thumb before he started to tap it. Firm enough to set the nerves there on fire but so gentle you were dripping all over his palm for more. Aching for release. 

"More, please. Levi."

"Oh this is precious. Begging for more like you're not already being touched? You're so fucking desperate, baby."

He administered slow rubs to your clit, teasing and-

"'Mean. Levi, you're so fucking mean," you whined.

"You like it," he whispered darkly.

You hate that he's right. "But-You're being mean, I don't even know...Can't think."

He was turning you into mush. You were such a smart girl, so studious, rarely at parties. Dedicated. But in his hold you were nothing but a whiny slut. And he loved it.

"And I can be meaner. So if you're bitching this much now, I should probably just knock it off, right? Because you hate it so much?"

His thumb toyed with your clit, delighting in the way you were soaking all the pads of his fingertips and muffling your moans into your palm all the while.

"I'll have to make you answer me, huh?" He sunk two fingers into you and you almost came undone. You were so earnest, so sensitive. He worked his thumb with renewed speed, whilst his fingers stroked that spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling back.

"Fine! Be mean. Just let me, fucking-"

His movements grew faster and his hand moved from your neck to your breast, manhandling you to his liking. "I thought you were a good girl— a smart girl."

"I am, I promise!" Levi was going to drive you into a daze, a daze where all you could do was hear his voice and be stroked and fucked by his cock and fingers. 

"But you're just a fucking slut who's desperate for some cock. My cock. This was just bound to happen, wasn't it? 

"Don't make me say it," you whined, his fingers fucking you even harder. 

"Tell me, did you think about it? Have you ever thought about it?" 

"Of course I have!"

Levi's the type to talk you through it. It's that that makes your cunt grip his fingers all the more tighter. 

"Tell me what you fucking thought about then? My fingers didn't just slip inside did they? You made a mess on me. I had no choice."

"M' sorry!" 

The pleasure was overwhelming, Levi's voice in your ear, so gravelly, so degrading. His large hands felt like they're touching and brushing every erogenous zone. His fingers were fucking your cunt with such precision you were withholding screams.

"You're not sorry, sluts are never fucking sorry. I had to take care of you like this," he panted. 

Lewd sloshes of your pussy filled the absence your voice couldn't manage to. The more embarrassed you felt, the better it felt. But every time you got close, clenching all over Levi's fingers. He slowed and let your orgasm drift away instead. 

"You like being spoken to like this too, I can feel it."

"Lev!"

With his hand on your throat he tipped your head back to speak directly into your ear. "You were dripping all over me like a bitch in heat. Over fucking nothing. Would've tried to fuck my thigh otherwise, wouldn't you?"

"No, it's just, you were touching me. An' so close!" 

Fuck you're so cute, getting all worked up over him like that. He loved every second of it. 

"No, I think you would have. Gonna be crying when you finally sit on my cock too huh? Or are you still gonna be begging for more like the greedy little slut you really are?"

"C-Can I have it now?"

Levi stopped at once. Sucking his fingers clean, his heavy breaths filled your ears. His clothed cock stopped rutting against your ass.

"Sorry I-"

He grabbed you, tossed you over his shoulder and then threw you beneath him on Hange's bed. His hands ripped away your shorts, you pulled away your top, leaving you stripped bare beneath him.

You yanked him close and he groaned, quickly catching all of his weight in his forearms. His eyes widened at how eager you were to be close to him too.

Your noses met, Levi roughly grabbed your jaw. "Kiss me, please," you whispered. 

Fuck you were even prettier up close. 

Levi's lips were on yours in seconds. Gripping you close as you groaned into each other's mouths. You worked away his t-shirt, rushing to feel the heat of his skin. 

You could barely withstand your lips parting in his undressing. Levi's tongue was in your mouth, on your throat, and then his lips were sucking on yours all over again, he raked his teeth over your lower lip, he bit too. He sent you spiralling down a hole of lust that was like nothing you'd ever felt. 

He was so fucking passionate, so fucking filthy.

You peeked down as you and him worked away his sweatpants, his hand cradling the back of your head as his lips coasted down your throat simultaneously. 

"Fuck me, fuck me now. Please."

Levi was far bigger than he felt under you minutes earlier. His cock was strained, dripping and flushed pink, its veins throbbing and thick. It was visibly praying for release. "Want you inside of me, need you inside." 

Levi fell apart against your neck, fingers toying with the slick drifting down to your ass. You moaned out at the new sensation as he teased the entrance

"How many times have you thought about me filling all your needy holes? You'd let me fuck this one, wouldn't you?"

"I'd let you do anything," you whimpered, "But I want to come, you still haven't let me come!"

"Because I want you to come on my cock. I thought you were smart?" He waded his tip through your heated folds, groaning at the way it lubricated him.

"Wait shit, does Hange have condoms in here?"

"I'm on birth control."

Seconds of tense silence passed. 

Levi sat up, his cock throbbing so much he felt dizzy. His eyes were half-lidded and dark as he eyed you below him. Drinking in your statement.

Your thighs were spread and clenched around his hips, your pussy glistening and swollen. "Last time I got tested, I was all clear," you continued. 

"Me too." Levi felt speechless all of a sudden. He'd never fucked anyone raw. But you, you were different, this was different. Fuck. How the fuck wasn't he going to come in seconds?

After he'd waited to have you come on his dick. 

"I've never done it without one, though. Where would you want me to..."

"Inside... of course."

"Of course?" 

Levi's eyes were so alight with lust it was making you shiver. 

Daringly you moved your fingers to your pussy and spread yourself. He sighed, shaky and resigned as he said, lowly, "I can't believe you baby." 

He gripped his cock, slapping it against your pussy. Smirking at the way your back pulled up in an arch, moaning so devotedly under him. "Will you? Do it." 

"Depends because...." He kissed along your jaw until he reached your ear, nipping your earlobe, "You're telling me you're a filthy girl who wants her pussy fucked full of cum in her best friend's bed. Huh?"

"Hange doesn't need to know," you moaned as Levi slotted his palm to your pussy, thumb toying with your clit as he finally sunk his cock inside of you.

"Damn fucking right they don't. As if I could say no to you."

Levi hissed as he bottomed out, teeth threatening to draw blood from his lower lip at the obscene way you mewled. "Fuck you feel good, don't you baby?"

"Levi, you feel perfect." 

"Oh yeah?"

Levi was so drunk on your pussy and he'd only just entered you. "Choke me, again." 

You were swept up in your pleasure, basking in the embarrassment. Expecting for his teasing and also wanting it too. "Please."

"Anything." His one hand gripped onto the headboard, the other holding you by your neck as if to only so he could tug your mouth to his. 

He rolled his hips into yours, making sure he reached deep enough that you shook at the motions. And sensual enough that he could feel your heart throbbing against his own.

"Fuck, you're so damn pretty."

Your cheeks burned at the tenderness in which he gasped your name after the soft compliment. 

The faster he got the more broken your voices became. The more you clenched and throbbed on his length—the more you unravelled him. Your hands settled in his hair, pulling and adoring. 

You wanted to tell Levi how pretty he was too, but you could barely speak. Not as he was growing faster and spluttering in your neck. He was fucking you so hard the bed frame was smacking into the wall and surely catching his fingers too but he didn't seem to care.

"Pretty little slut wants her pussy ruined with cum? My cum all inside of her?" 

"I really fucking do!" Levi gripped your throat harder, which seemed to only intensify the relentless sensations of his cock. 

"You're okay?" He asked, loosening his grip. With a sinful sheen of lust clouding your expression your hand coiled over his own.

"You're a pervert, baby. A pretty fucking pervert." 

"But you like it!"

Levi moaned your name over and over. Until it sounded like something else. Until he was pushing your thighs up and pressing you down to take everything he was giving.

His thumb worked your clit as he slammed his cock upward, abusing that spot that was making you gush all over his cock. Then finally, you broke, your climax shattering your senses and every sexual encounter you ever had before him. 

You felt Levi's teasing, his touch, his purpose, his cock, in every pleasure centre your body housed.

"On my cock just like that, fuck. Just like we wanted huh, you ready to be filled, filthy girl?"

You were clenching on him so tight, throbbing all around him. "Levi, fuck-" you tugged him close until his lips crashed onto yours, delighting in the way he was an incoherent garbling mess. The way his hands were sinking into your thighs with possession, slapping, grabbing, squeezing. 

"Fuck, baby. Take it—all!"

You moaned in tandem as he painted your walls white. Pressing kisses all over his face as he fell apart. He came so much that when he removed himself and saw how much you were dripping with him, he fixed his hand to his cock and came some more.

Loud pants filled the room, your arms reached out for him and he took them, enveloping you in warmth. 

"Fuck, Levi. How long has it been for you?"

You fell into fond breathless laughter, "You don't even wanna know. Trust me." 

He settled on his stomach, forcing your thighs open. "Oh my god, Vi—T-The sheets!"

Levi's cum oozed out of you everytime you throbbed from the aftershocks of your climax. "You wanted it messy. But, I guess it'll have to be me that cleans you up."

He kissed and sucked along your thighs, keeping them spread. "Levi! Levi, you can't..." then he peeled back the hood of your clit, and flicked his tongue experimentally. Your entire body wracked with a shiver.

Perfect. 

"Did you think you were only coming once tonight?" he chuckled incredulously. "And if you're this sensitive, I wonder what's gonna happen when you smoke."

mrsackermannx2023© all writing works are my own, do not repost, steal or translate my work.

#levi x reader one shot #levi x fem!reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi x reader #levi fanfiction #i had so much fun writing this omg #tw: weed mention #tw weed #tw smoking mention

[thebluestbluewords]

Jane’s Spring Lemon Cookies (aka the whisk incident) part 1/?

"Janey?" 

The counter is nice. The counter doesn't lose her favorite whisk, or scold her about how she's not taking enough public service hours this semester, or turn the heat on high in the classroom and make her feel like her brain is melting. 

"The world is an uncaring, awful place," Jane says, instead of just opening her mouth and screaming like she sort of wants to. "And I lost my favorite whisk."

Lonnie's high heeled boots click over the blue tile floor that Jane picked out for their kitchen. "I might know something about the whisk, actually. If that would help." 

Jane turns her head to the side so that her cheek rests on the cool surface of the counter, instead of her forehead. It's more comfortable for her nose this way. Her regular, plain-Jane nose that she never did convince Mal to fix, back when she was all insecure and shy at Auradon Prep. 

She doesn't regret that, but it would be a little bit nice if her nose was smaller. She could mash her whole face into the stone countertop at once if she had a flat nose. Like a snake. All flat, just nostrils sticking out of a little bump. 

"It wouldn't," Jane sighs, and then sighs again when Lonnie rests a hand on the crown of her head. "But thank you. I appreciate it anyway." 

Lonnie's nails are short now, because she's got to keep them short for her position on the fencing team, but she scratches gently at Jane's head anyway, and the warm pressure of her fingertips feels good on Jane's overheated scalp. It's not fair that they're getting hot days in March now. She's supposed to have another month of cool weather before she starts breaking out the enchanted headbands to keep herself cool. It's not fair, being a half-winter fairy and choosing to live in Auradon City, where every month feels like it's temperate and beautiful at least half the time, even the days where there's pretty snowflakes floating down over their city, and Jane can almost feel phantom icicle wings fluttering against her back. 

"Aww, Janey, it's alright," her beloved girlfriend, bringer of warm fingers and tension-relieving head scratches says. "You're gonna be okay." 

"I wish--" Jane starts, and then has to cut herself off to sigh again, because wishing is exactly the problem. "My mom is asking me when I'm going to start doing Fairy Godmother work with her again, and I wish I could tell her that I don't want to do godmothering, but every time I visit her office she looks so happy to see me there in this stupid uniform and I feel like I'll be an awful person if I let her down."

Lonnie doesn't say anything for a long moment, but she's still scratching the headache out of Jane's skull, so that's nice. 

"Do you want to call my mom?" 

"Your mom?" 

"Yeah," Jane can't see her girlfriend from the angle she's smooshed against the table at, but she can picture the way that Lonnie shrugs when she's thinking through an idea. "My mom's good at talking through stuff. She's been through the whole thing with disappointing your parents already, so maybe she can give you some advice." 

"Would she really talk to me?" 

Lonnie stops scratching. "Janey," she says, reproachfully. 

Jane's cheeks flare horribly red. "I just-- I don't--" 

"Janey, my mom thinks you're the best girlfriend I've ever had, and she literally loves talking to you. If you make those lemon cookies that she likes, I'm pretty sure she'll ask you to marry her before I even get the chance." 

#this isn’t serious but I’m having fun and looking cute and that feels more important today #all of this is subject to change later as I actually edit ofc #my fic #jane descendants #lonnie descendants #carlos is 100% the one who destroyed the whisk and Lonnie was there and didn’t stop him #sugar and spikes AU

[livwritesstuff]

Eddie is the luckiest bastard on the planet.

He has to be.

There’s no other way around it.

There’s no other possible explanation for why he got to wake up this morning with Steve Harrington still fast asleep against his side, an arm curled around Eddie’s stomach so his hand rests warm on the curve of his waist, his cheek smushed against Eddie’s collarbone, and their legs entangled beneath the sheets. There’s no other reason for why he’s gotten to wake up like this pretty much every morning for the past year and a half (they’ve actually been together for a little over two, but it’s been a year and a half since Ed replaced Robin on the lease for their little apartment by the harbor in Tacoma, Washington).

Maybe luckiest on the entire planet is up for debate, but, god does Eddie feels fucking lucky — and not just because he’s the one who bagged Steve Harrington, king of Hawkins High (though he seriously hopes Steve will be up for attending their high school reunion whenever it comes around).

Steve just loves so hard, he’s like a bottomless pit of goodness and kindness and love, and by some grace of whatever God is in charge of that kind of shit, Eddie gets to be on the receiving end of it.

Christ, is he fucking lucky.

In the two years that they’ve been together, Eddie has spent a considerable amount of time wondering if he even deserves Steve. He’s pretty firmly landed on he doesn’t, but Steve doesn’t seem to be with the program (and Ed is irreversibly head over heels for him, so he’ll take it).

“Ed,” Steve mutters from beside him as he rolls back towards his side of the bed, his sleep-addled voice rough like gravel, “Go back to sleep.”

Though Eddie is far too awake to fall back asleep, he hums his agreement, molding himself to Steve’s back and tucking a hand between his thighs.

Eddie’s sleep schedule is kind of fucked at this point. To be fair, it was kind of always fucked, but his saving grace as a teenager had been the fixed schedule of school, and then as an adult, work. Ten months ago, however, he signed a real-life publishing deal for the book he’s been working on for ages that came with an upfront payment and the expectation of writing full-time. Since then, he’s had free reign to live by whatever hours he sees fit, for better or for worse.

Recently he’s been trying his damndest to stick to normal waking hours, which hasn't exactly been easy for the night owl that he tends to be, but Steve’s last semester in his PsyD program started up last week after a short break, so spending time with him means abiding to the same hours (and more than anything, more than any vocation or any job or any amount of money, Eddie just wants to spend time with Steve).

At this point, they’ve got a whole routine down —

Steve will pull himself out of bed with his alarm.

Eddie will do whatever he can to convince him to skip out on his clinical and spend the day with him, which Steve will ignore.

Eddie will then spend the morning killing time.

Steve will call home midway through the day. He’ll asks what Eddie’s been up to and tell him he misses him, and Eddie will fall just that much more in love.

After they hang up, Eddie might manage to put in a good few hours of writing, might have a meeting with his agent or his publishing house, and sometimes he’ll go out to pick up some things for his and Steve’s evening — usually groceries and a bottle of wine (Steve is becoming a wine guy in his old age of twenty-eight, and while Ed’s not totally sure he’s convinced, he has been noticing his taste in beer becoming less and less redneck, as Nancy ever-so-kindly describes it).

Steve is the designated cook in their relationship (thank god, because any relationship where Eddie is the more culinarily-inclined of the pair is not a relationship destined to be sustainable, and Ed needs this to be sustainable), so Eddie won’t actually get dinner started per se, but he will put a tape on (Led Zeppelin’s IV, more often than not, because “Going to California” reminds him of Steve), and he’ll clean up the kitchen, put the wine in the fridge to chill, and get a pot of water boiling because he’s usually pretty sure that whatever Steve has planned includes pasta.

(And if it doesn’t, it usually works out anyway because when Steve returns home, they’ll make out against the kitchen counter for so long that all the water boils off).

They might watch something after dinner or maybe they’ll start a new puzzle or maybe Steve will convince him to play Mario Kart with him or maybe they’ll do something else entirely, but no matter what they’ll talk and rib each other and tell each other about their days.

If Steve turns in early, Ed will go with him. He’ll stand behind him in the bathroom with an arm around his middle while they brush their teeth together, and once they’re in bed he’ll let (let, as if he’d ever say no) Steve cuddle up against him while he jots down something that had popped into his brain in the notebook he takes with him wherever he goes.

It’s a routine Eddie is pretty goddamn happy with, actually.

He loves Steve — he loves him, he loves him, he loves him.

He loves his old-man schedule that has him rising and falling practically with the sun. He loves his sexy early-morning voice, loves the way he snores when he sleeps on his back for too long, loves the way Eddie can gently smush a hand into Steve’s face for a moment so he’ll stop.

He loves Steve and his absurd collection of houseplants and the way their coffee table is almost always consumed by a puzzle (Steve likes the tricky ones — they’re a 1000-piece minimum household) and his determination to try a new recipe every week.

He loves how Steve ends every phone call with love you, Ed and every note with a doodled heart, smiley-face, and star, and how he cuddles with his nose shoved into the bend of Eddie’s neck so he can feel his heartbeat and how he likes to keep his socks on during sex.

“I don’t like it,” Steve always responds whenever Ed brings this up, “I'm just not gonna put a pause on everything to take my fucking socks off if it doesn’t make literally any difference to me.”

Which, Eddie supposes, is fair enough.

CONTINUE ON AO3

#steddie #the satellite and the sky #steve harrington #eddie munson #he's just so so so in love

[blog-name-idk]

Everything Falls (Into Place) | 17

*Banner by the incredible @bangtansmauyeondan

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Word Count: 2766

~~~~~

Namjoon Guys, I have a problem

Jin What did you break this time? You've already burned through your security deposit

Yoongi maybe he got an A- on his last assignment

Namjoon Please guys, I'm serious I don't know what to do

Taehyung Hyung, what's wrong?

Namjoon I think I'm in love

Jimin !!!!!!!

Hobi !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yoongi about time your balls dropped

Jin Ah, to be young again…

Namjoon Hyung, you're only 2 years older than me Also, please guys It'll never happen I'm doomed I have no idea how to proceed

Hobi What are you talking about?? How could anyone turn down that face?

Jimin Yeah, hyung! You're a total catch!

Jin Yeah Joon, you're almost as beautiful as me, don't sell yourself short

Namjoon Thanks guys… But really, I'm not fishing for compliments I just want to know how I can get over someone who is literally perfect

Jungkook Hyung if she's not willing to give you a chance then she's prob not worth your time You deserve someone who can see how amazing you are

Jimin OMG Kookie!!! Yes!

Jin From the mouths of babes…

Namjoon Well, she doesn't actually KNOW I like her

Yoongi dude

Taehyung Aw, it's cute that you're being so shy!

Namjoon No, like I CAN'T like her She can't find out

Jin ?

Jungkook Oh goddammit

Taehyung ??

Hobi ???

Jimin ????

Jungkook It's [y/n], isn't it

Namjoon … Yes

Yoongi join the fucking club

Jin Wait what

Yoongi what

Jimin Kookie, how did you know??

Jungkook Are you guys idiots It's obvious we're all in love with her

Taehyung Shit, it is?

Hobi OMG I thought I was the only one! Wait, should I be happy or sad?

Jin Wow kids Your first female roommate and you all have the hots for her?

Jimin I mean, do you not?

Jin Nevermind

Namjoon Fuck Jackson is going to murder all of us House meeting tonight [Y/n]'s having a girls night with Mina

Jimin Wait how do you know that?

Yoongi probably because unlike some people he actually asks about her day instead of staring at her tits

Jimin RUDE

Jungkook Lmao rekt

Taehyung To be fair, they're pretty nice

Hobi Do you guys think she knows?

Jungkook Doubt it She's the only one more oblivious than you morons

Hobi LOL

Jin Don't talk about my wife that way!

Jungkook changed the group name to Boys in Luv

Namjoon Why did God put me on this earth just to suffer

~~~~~

"Why are we getting ready here again when your place is closer to the club?" you complained as Mina fussed with her hair in the mirror. Both of your last exams had been today, and you had already either finished or turned in all of your final projects. The two of you were long overdue for some irresponsible fun.

"Because you have double sinks," she said as if it was the most obvious response in the world. Well, actually it kind of was. "Which is so unfair by the way."

"I mean one of them is Hobi's," you hedged, though you were secretly incredibly smug at your good fortune. Not only did you basically have an ensuite bathroom, the boy you shared it with was tidy and respectful. Besides the shower debacle, there had been zero issues sharing.

"Yeah but he keeps it so clean," she whined, and you grinned.

"I know, it's great."

"Man, he's gorgeous, sweet, funny, clean, AND has a huge - "

"MINA!" you screeched, hoping your friend wasn't in his room. He was actually in the living room with the other boys waiting for the two of you to leave, but you had no way of knowing that.

"Heart," she finished with a smirk. "What? What did you think I was going to say?"

"Why do I love you?" you asked with a groan, making sure your mascara had dried without smudging.

"Because I'm amazing, and still your best friend despite the fact that you've been ditching me for your hot harem for the past semester."

You winced, knowing she was right. It hadn't been on purpose - it was just easier to study and make plans with people you literally saw every day. Tonight was in fact one of the ways you were making it up to her. You didn't actually hate clubbing - every once in a while you were in the mood to dance - but you usually preferred house parties or smaller groups where you could relax and not worry too much about things like getting roofied or bending over and flashing your ass at everyone.

Today however, you submitted yourself to Mina's whims. So you put on your finest hooker heels and shoved yourself into a tight dress that made you feel like an overstuffed sausage. You knew you actually looked amazing, even if you felt like you were one wardrobe malfunction away from getting written up for indecent exposure. Your eyes were smokey and alluring, and your hair had been painstakingly styled to look effortlessly breezy.

"I know, I know. I'm the worst. Tonight I will partially make it up to you by dancing my heart out and hip bumping any gross randos away from your beautiful butt," you promised, taking a swig of your whiskey and ginger beer. You'd need a healthy buzz going before you started believing you had good dance moves, and you weren't about to rely on overpriced, watered-down bar drinks.

"You better," your best friend responded with a wink. "I called an Uber, I think we're about as hot as we're going to get."

"Which is incredibly hot," you finished for her. You clinked your glasses together, downed your drinks, then went downstairs to await your night's chariot.

~~~~~

Mina grinned in anticipation as the two of you headed down the stairs. She could not wait to see the reaction of your housemates. Would it be obvious if she pulled out her phone to take a picture?

"You two heading out?" Jin asked when they reached the bottom, turning to look at the two of you with a smile. His face froze when he got a good look at you, and Mina internally snorted. And you thought he wasn't whipped for you? For someone so brilliant you could be so endearly stupid sometimes.

The other boys turned as well, and if she had lower self-esteem she might have been a little miffed that they only had eyes for you. Luckily for everyone involved, she had a great therapist.

It was hard to contain her amusement at the various ranges of emotional constipation on display. Namjoon was staring, a forgotten book dangling from his hands. Handsome Jin had recovered somewhat and rearranged his expression, but his ears were bright red. Hobi's eyes darted from your face, to your bare feet, and then back up to your face as if he wasn't sure where it was safe to set his eyes. The grumpy one, Yoongi, was actually licking his lips.

The youngest had the most hilarious (and adorable) reactions, though. The three had turned to look at you at the same time, and their eyes bugged and jaws dropped in perfect unison. Jungkook's eyes, already naturally large, had widened into saucers. She could really see what you meant when you said he was a mixture of cute woodland creatures. Taehyung's eyes held a deep longing that actually made Mina feel a little bad for the guy. You loved reading - how did you not see the emotions written so plainly on his face?

The deafening silence was finally broken by pretty Jimin, whose face was dusted a pretty pink.

"Y-you two look great," he squeaked, chewing on his lip as if trying to prevent other words from spilling out.

"Thanks Chim!" you said cheerfully, and Mina almost rolled her eyes at the way your smile made him melt into the couch.

"Bye guys! Have a good night! Don't wait up!" You called as you headed to the front door with your heels in hand, apparently oblivious to the tangible yearning in the air. God, you were more clueless than an anime protagonist. Mina, however, was not. She smirked and waggled her fingers at the stunned group.

"Bye boys. I'll do my best to keep her in line, but no promises," she teased with a wink, enjoying the different degrees of jealousy flashing across their faces. So she wanted to stir the pot a little. Sue her. They were all good guys. Things might get weird or embarrassing or messy for a while, but you were all adults enough to resolve things in a healthy way. Life was all about change, and one of them (or more, she wasn't going to judge), might be the one to help you grow into living for yourself as much as you did for others.

Or maybe it would all end in disaster. It was certainly a possibility - nothing was absolute, after all - but she had a feeling things would end up just fine. And if they didn't, well, she would be there to help you back up when you fell. Just like you always did for her.

Shaking the alcohol-induced sappiness out of her mind, Mina followed you to the door and sat next to you to put on her shoes. It was time to forget about schoolwork and boys and problems and get jiggy with her best friend.

~~~~~

As soon as the front door closed behind you and Mina, the group in the living room let out a collective exhale.

"I kind of feel like going out tonight, actually," said Jungkook casually, starting to rise from the couch.

"Me too," chirped Jimin, moving to follow.

"Sit. Down."

At Namjoon's authoritative command, the two troublemakers immediately dropped back into their seats, looking chastened. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts and trying to scrub the image of you looking like sex personified out of his brain. Well, not scrub it completely - more like cache it for later perusal.

"Okay," he began, looking at his friends - his brothers. "Okay."

Despite the topic having consumed his thoughts since that disastrous group text, he still wasn't quite sure how to start. So he stood there like a lump, letting the silence grow to suffocating levels.

"We all like [y/n]. We don't know how she feels about us. Also we all love each other so we have to figure out how to deal without letting this get between us."

Everyone stared at Jungkook, who shrugged. Despite being the youngest, he often surprised them by showing his deeper, more mature side. It was easy to forget that he was actually quite astute and intelligent when he was rage quitting a video game or pouting for attention.

"That's… a pretty accurate overview of the situation," Namjoon agreed lamely. "So… We should talk about possible outcomes and how to handle them, maybe set some ground rules."

"That makes sense," Hobi agreed, though he looked uncomfortable. Well, most of them did. They had all been through a lot together, but this was an awkward, unprecedented situation.

"Before we continue, I need a drink," Jimin announced, bouncing up to head to the kitchen. "This is too much to think about sober."

In the end, everyone ended up joining him to get a glass or bottle of something. The dancer was right, a little social lubricant would make this entire situation easier to deal with.

"Alright, so let's discuss the possible outcomes," announced Namjoon when everyone had settled. He had taken the opportunity to grab the small whiteboard and easel from his room and set it up in the corner despite the teasing from his friends.

"One: She chooses me," said Jin immediately, snickering at the glares from the other boys. Namjoon rolled his eyes while uncapping his marker. The brainstorm went more smoothly after that, and by the end of a discussion filled with jibs, pouts, and giggles, they had settled on a final list.

1. She chooses one of us. 2. She chooses some of us. 3. She chooses none of us.

"Anything we're not thinking of?" asked the leader, looking around the room. Taehyung raised his hand.

"What if she liked all of us?"

Everyone stared, and Namjoon sighed. He couldn't say the thought hadn't crossed his mind, but it just seemed so unlikely. Still, it was a possibility, however remote it might be, so he added it to the board.

4. She chooses all of us.

With the options laid bare, the floor was now open for discussion. Unfortunately it seemed no one knew where to begin, until Hobi bravely made the first comment.

"Well… as long as she's happy I guess I can accept any outcome," he said bashfully. "I mean, I guess it would kind of hurt to see her with someone else, but I'd like to think I could eventually get over it."

"I'd rather see her with you guys than anyone else," Taehyung added with a nod, blushing. "At least then I'd know she was being treated well."

"Speaking of which, what are we going to do about Dongmin?" Jimin asked suddenly, looking pointedly at the older dancer. "He's sniffing around [y/n] and she's way too good for him!"

Namjoon sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. As much as he didn't like the idea of you with someone he didn't know, it definitely wasn't right to interfere in your life to that extent.

"[Y/n] is an adult and her own person," he said sternly. "If she decides to date someone else, we have to respect that." Jimin pouted and gave a sulky nod.

"So… what happens if she likes more than one of us?" asked Yoongi, speaking up for the first time that night.

"I mean, I was in an open relationship once, but it didn't really work out," Taehyung offered, frowning in thought. "I think it was more because of poor communication than the situation itself, though."

"I've only been in monogamous relationships," Jin mused. "I'll have to think about it."

The boys were all nodding thoughtfully, and Namjoon was pleasantly taken aback that no one looked offended or scandalized. Then again, perhaps it wasn't that surprising - the reason they all got along so well was that while their differences complimented each other, they were generally on the same fundamental wavelength. Huh, maybe this would be less complicated than he thought. Though these were all hypotheticals - there was no guarantee that you wouldn't eventually just fuck off and ride off into the sunset with this Dongmin guy.

And then Jungkook had to go and make it awkward.

"So, what about like threesomes or - "

"OKAY! Remember, these are theoretical situations, and if they come to pass, this would be something to discuss with [y/n] present!" Namjoon interjected in a strangled voice.

As if the exchange had broken the ice, everyone started laughing and the air in the room lightened visibly. The guys began falling into their usual interactions as they grew more comfortable, and eventually the conversation devolved into what almost felt like a [y/n] fanclub. Finally, Namjoon called an end to the meeting, feeling satisfied. He headed back to his room then sent the house group chat (minus you) a text with the final "rules" before erasing the whiteboard.

Namjoon Just sending this out for reference

1. No matter what, [y/n] is our friend and we will be supportive no matter what happens (even if it sucks at first) 2. We each decide for ourselves if we want to pursue this or not 3. Don't out anyone else 4. Jealousy happens, but try not to be an asshole 5. Communication and consent are the golden rules - if we get angry or upset about something someone else has done, we will discuss it like adults

Anyway, good talk everyone This is uncharted territory, so I'm sure things will be harder than we're thinking but I hope that we can all be open and honest about this stuff with each other Remember, we're all a team It'll always be us against a problem, not each other I love you guys

Yoongi you forgot one 6. no glove no love but i love you guys too I guess

Jimin Awww, hyung I'm gonna cry! Love you <3

Jin You kids make an old man sentimental

Taehyung You guys are the best :)

Hobi Love all of you!!!

Jungkook Love you guys

Taehyung Oh, the semester ending means that Jackson-hyung will be back soon, right? Should we invite him over for dinner some time?

Namjoon Oh fuck

~~~~~

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#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts ot7 x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #park jimin x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #min yoongi x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jung hoseok x reader