#someone greeted me by walking up to me while t posing

[bettyfrommars]

Stop the World and Melt with You//Part 3

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

In this part, reader meets the Nancy Wheeler and Joyce Byers of this au, and starts to feel a bond with Eddie as you navigate the Twilight Zone episode you are in. You also find out what happens when you try to leave this place called Hawkinsgate.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: reader feels lost and confused in general, talk of being an outcast, feeling misunderstood, mention of having a period, lots of 80's nostalgia, eventual smut (I think) but not for a while. Word count: 4.3k

🔸currently posting with my clown shoes on because this is the second Eddie series I have going 🤡 I really adore and appreciate the three of you who have been reading this, I know it is a little "out there".

-------

When you came out to lock the door of your motel room, you looked up at the ornate, brass, number ‘8’ and noticed that, at one point, someone wrote a ‘6’ right after it in permanent black marker. Another someone clearly tried to clean it off as best they could, but only succeed in fading the dark green paint down to a grass green. Claudia was locking up the lobby and putting a sign in the window that gave a number to call if you needed any assistance, and she waved at you, but then she looked you up and down, and her face pinched.

“You’re not going somewhere tonight, are you?” She shouted to you from halfway across the parking lot.

“Um, I’m meeting someone?” You posed it in the form of a question as if to see how she felt about it before you decided to get in your truck and drive the short distance instead of walking and having to answering more questions.

“Well, be safe. There’s a strict no noise policy after 9pm here, so no parties in your room.” She had a ring of keys on her wrist and her hands on her hips.

“I won’t. I mean, there won’t be. We’re just—”

But Claudia was already on the other side of the door, locking it, and waving goodbye to you.

Again, your eyes did a sweep of the empty motel parking lot; even the Police Blazer was gone now.

There were shallow puddles of water in the pavement from the rain earlier and you watched the reflection of the red MOTEL sign on the roof disappear into ripples as you stepped in it with your boot.

Eddie was already sitting at a booth in the diner when you walked in---in fact, you’re pretty sure he saw you from his window seat as you approached, because he was already standing up to greet you when you came in the door.

“Welcome to Newby’s,” a small, brunette waitress greeted you immediately, bending down to grab a laminate menu from the side of the wall. “Just one for this evening?”

You looked over and Eddie had his arm up, motioning you over. “She’s with me, Nance,” he called to the waitress.

The long diner had booths to the left and right, with a row of bar stools at a counter ahead of you and a kitchen beyond with what looked like a mom and a pop back there making the food. The place was getting busy, with only a few open booths available. The waitress looked you up and down, smiled uneasily, and then motioned for you to go ahead and continue down the linoleum aisle.

You scoot in across from Eddie, the vinyl seat squeaking as you go. Eddie had his hair down, and it was still damp from his shower; he wore a tattered denim vest and leather jacket on top of a clean, white t-shirt, and your eyes went right to the jewelry on his hands that you hadn’t noticed before—there were chunky, metal rings on his fingers.

He points to an item on the menu in front of you, and his face is serious. “They make the best homemade mac n’ cheese I’ve ever had in my life here.” He pauses and then, your gaze follows his finger up the length of his arm to meet his warm, hazelnut stare. Something about the eye contact flusters him and he loses his train of thought, but then he squints at you. “But why do I take you for more of a liver and onions kind of girl?”

You make a yuck face and wrinkle your nose, and he snorts a little laugh.

Running your finger down the menu, realizing you might need glasses soon, something odd catches your eye. “What do these letters next to the dollar amount mean?”

He lifts up out of his seat a hair to see what you are pointing at. “Oh, that means four dollars or ‘T’ for trade,” he points to another part of the menu. “And the ‘OT’ means trade only.”

“Well, I checked my wallet again just before I came here,” you gave a nervous chuckle. “And there are no more mysterious daffodils in there.” You scratched your head, listening to the preposterous things that were coming out of your own mouth.

Eddie sat back and winked at you as he reached into the front pocket of his denim vest. “Don’t worry, I got you. Dinner is on me tonight.”

With that, he procured a stack of ten or twelve Garbage Pail Kid cards and fanned them out, showing them to you covertly, as if they were hundred dollar bills. He raised both of his eyebrows several times to accentuate that the two of you would be living high on the hog for the evening, before tucking them back into his pocket and snapping the button closed.

A different waitress came by and you ordered the Mac n’ cheese Eddie had suggested; you could tell he was pleased that you went with his suggestion. He ordered a burger with waffle fries and a chocolate milkshake, and you weren’t sure why—but you hadn’t expected that. A soda maybe or a beer, but a milkshake? It was so wholesome in contrast with his persona.

You both ate in silence for a few minutes, each of you ravenous. Once your stomachs started to fill up, you whispered across the table at him: “Why do I feel like everyone in here is staring at us?”

He pushed some of his burger into the side of his cheek with is tongue like a chipmunk and leaned forward to whisper back at you. “Because they are.”

You turned your head to find the girl he called ‘Nance’ and one of the customers at the counter both looking at you as they talked. Their eyes shifted away immediately once you caught them.

Eddie swallowed his bite. “They’re staring at you because you’re here with me, and they’re staring at me because I’m here with you. Get used to it if you ever want to hang out again, sweetheart.”

Now, none of that made sense to you, and the confusion must’ve registered on your face, but the idea of seeing Eddie again made your heart flutter in its cage.

He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “It’s a stupid thing, I know, but we’re not supposed to...fraternize much with Visitors.”

You had a lot of questions, but you asked the obvious one first. “How do they know I’m a...that I’m not from here?”

Eddie gave you a patient look, as if the reason should be obvious. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with you, okay?” He assured. “It’s just...your hair, the way you dress, the fact that you’re staying at the motel. Most of these people have been here for so long, they can sniff out a new person right away.”

For a second, you felt like the proverbial sore thumb, like you had this throbbing, red bubble around you to let everyone know that you didn’t belong. You were a foreigner as Eddie had put it earlier. But, what you didn’t realize at the time is that—you were used to feeling that way.

“So,” you took in that information and pushed your shoulders back, trying not to appear like you cared about any of the spying eyes. “What about me with you? Why would it be a weird thing for me to agree to have dinner with you?”

Eddie picked up the last piece of his food and looked at it pensively, and then realized he was too full and put it back down. He scooted his plate to the side and put his arms on the table, interlacing his fingers. “The thing is, I’ve never fit in here either,” he opened his hands and looked at his palms. There was a lot more to the story, but he didn’t feel comfortable talking about it right there in the middle of the diner, maybe another day, if he ever saw you again.

You pushed your plate to the side as well and Nance (her name tag officially said Nancy) came by to collect them, and asked if you needed any refills. You both declined and Eddie asked for the check.

“I’m really grateful to you, for this, for...dinner and everything,” you stammered. You felt like it was time for you to both go your separate ways, and you weren’t ready. You weren’t ready to stop asking questions, and you weren’t ready to...say goodbye to Eddie. You felt your mouth drying up with anxiety, and you took the last sip of your tea through the straw; it made an audible sucking sound.

Eddie didn’t want the night to end, either. In his mind, he was panicking: should he ask for a dessert menu? He was full, but he’d have something with you if it meant you would stay. Should he walk you back to your motel? No, he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable—he was a stranger to you, after all. What about bowling? He could ask if you wanted to try the bowling alley next door or…? Nancy put the check down by Eddie’s arm and it forced him out of the trance he was in.

“You know what’s weird?” You asked, pulling your sweatshirt sleeves over your hands so that only the tips of your fingers were visible.

“You mean, besides everything?” Eddie gave you a wide-eyed, crazy look, and it made you giggle; forgetting, if only for a second, that you were stuck in some episode of The Twilight Zone. He looked down at the check and started sifting through his Garbage Pail Kid cards. He pulled out a ‘Duncan Pumpkin’, a ‘Manny Eater’, an ‘Undead Ed’, and a ‘Jay Decay’. He also pulled out some coins that looked like they were from the early 1900’s. You gasped and picked one up to see it closer.

“Where did you find these?” One was dated 1927.

Eddie shrugged, as if they were as common as mosquitoes. “You’d be surprised at the stuff that shows up here. Someone’s trash ends up being our treasure, I suppose. I’m still not entirely sure how it works.”

He noticed how you were looking at one of the coins. “You can keep that one if you want, I have a ton of them back at my place.”

You thought about it, only because, it was a rare coin worth a lot where you were from, but here, in Hawkinsgate---it didn’t seem to have much perceived value.

“Thank you, that’s okay,” you set it back down in the pile.

“What was it you were going to say?” Eddie interlocked his fingers again on the table.

For a second, you feared that perhaps you were losing your short term memory as well, but then he prompted you.

“You were about to tell me what you thought was weird, and I interrupted.”

“Oh,” you remembered. But for some reason, now you felt shy about saying it out loud. “I was just thinking that you feel really familiar to me. Have we met before? I mean, before today?”

Eddie unlaced his fingers and drummed them on the table softly, nodding, biting his lip. He had been thinking the same thing. Certain things you said, and the way you looked when you said them, were plaguing him with multiple instances of de ja vu.

“I highly doubt it,” he adjusted the collar of his jacket. “But anything is possible, I guess. You ready to get out of here?”

You each put your hands in your pockets as you shuffled outside, both dragging your feet, both of your mind’s racing on how to not let the night end. You stood under the awning as the rain drizzled, the sky threatening to burst open in a matter of seconds.

Eddie took a chance. “How about I drive you back to the motel?”

-----------

He parked his van next to your truck and turned the engine off because you were still going through his cassette tapes and he didn’t want to rush you. He also liked watching your face as you picked up each one to look at it---you were almost as excited as when you were looking at the coins.

“I haven’t seen these albums on cassette tape in...well…” you stopped short, picking up a few that came out in the ninties/early 2000’s, including a few you’d never heard of—and were almost certain had never existed. The sleeves were warped from water damage and a few of the plastic covers were cracked or broken. You should’ve been glad to see them, because it let you know that you weren’t trapped back in time. The thought occurred to you that Hawkinsgate was a place, and not a time.

“I found those,” Eddie told you with pride, answering the question before you could ask it.

“In the same place you found the coins?” Anyone else might have had a hard time wrapping their brain around the idea, but you were fascinated. His van smelled just like you imagined it would: clean, Irish Spring scent, mixed with vanilla, cigarette smoke, leather, and just a whiff of mold after a rainy season.

“No, princess,” he turned in his seat and stretched one of his legs down between the two seats. “They are usually in the abandoned cars we find and have to tow back to the junkyard.”

...abandoned cars…lost things...someone else’s trash…

You looked down at a mix tape that someone had made that said, “Sandy Loves Roger”, and then a bunch of handwritten song titles in blue ink that were too water damaged to be legible.

“Eddie?” Your voice wavered.

“Yes?” He returned in a sing-song way.

“How many Visitors like me have you met?”

“A few.”

“10? 15?”

He shrugged. “Hundreds, I think.”

“Hundreds?!”

You hadn’t been prepared for that number, and your reaction made him wish he had told you that he simply wasn’t sure, instead of giving you a number. Maybe this place was like those vortexes where balls roll up hill and magnets stop working.

“I’ve never taken one to dinner though,” he picked at something invisible on the steering wheel. “Some of them end up here for years, and some for only a few hours.”

You were staring at the dash in front of you now, your thoughts far away, trying to pinch a bubble of a memory before it floated away or broke. “Do they ever get their memories back while they are here?”

“Not usually until the end,” he cringed at his wording. “I mean, not until right before they go back.”

You looked down at the handful of cassette tapes in your hand. “Tomorrow I’m going to have to try and get back home, wherever that is.”

“I know,” Eddie swallowed. If you were still there in the morning, he knew you would try—everyone did.

“But I promise to come by the garage and say goodbye,” you smiled halfheartedly, but you couldn’t look at him.

Eddie turned to you with a genuine smile. “I’d really like that.”

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

In the morning, after getting some coffee from the lobby and eating a stale granola bar that had been stashed in your purse while watching an old Bugs Bunny cartoon, you showered and packed up your truck. You used the last one of your tampons and made a mental note to stop at the next grocery store you found to replenish. You locked up your room and drove over to park in front of the lobby to drop off your key and pay for the night.

Claudia gave you a concerned look when you told her you were checking out. “Well,” she took the key you were holding out to her, but kept her palm flat and didn’t close her fist around it. “Would you like me to hold the room for you, just in case?”

“That’s okay, I really need to get back,” you fumbled with your bag to get your wallet out, forgetting for a moment that it was empty.

“Back where, hon?” She meant it genuinely, but you had to look up at her to make sure she wasn’t being sarcastic.

“I’m not sure, but I’m just going to go back the way I came and get back to the freeway,” you said with all of the confidence you could muster. “Are there any internet cafes around here?”

Claudia looked almost offended by the question. You opened your wallet and, with a flood of relief, realized that your unused credit card with the $500 limit was still in there. The ID and the cash and the debit card were still gone, but at least you had something to work with.

You shook your head apologetically for expecting her to know what an internet cafe was. “Do you happen to know a place where I could buy a phone?”

But to that question, she had an answer. “There’s one over there you can use,” she told you with an enthusiastic expression, pointing to the payphone that was just inside the door. But then, she remembered that you were a Visitor, and she put her elbows on the counter, moving her fingers to make a rectangle shape as she talked. “Or do you mean one of those handheld devices with the computers in them?”

“Yes,” you were excited that she understood. “I need to get one of those. Do you know a place?”

“No, sorry,” she stood back up to make room for another cat to walk across the counter.

You tried to pay for the room with your credit card, but Claudia showed quite a bit of interest in the bracelet you had on, and so you traded that, and a can of half empty hairspray, and an unopened palette of six eye shadows for your stay. You weren’t attached to any of the items, so you felt like you got it for a steal.

Claudia stood in the window and watched you go, putting the key to your room in her pocket for when you came back.

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

There was an older man with gray hair at the pumps filling up another car when you pulled in. You drove right by him and over to the garage side of the building that had two open bays. You could see Eddie’s legs sticking out from under a car, and so you turned the engine off and tried to sneak up on him.

As you tip-toed into the bay you could hear Black Sabbath playing from a boombox on a nearby chair, and then the sound of a wrench turning and bolts tightening. You were just about to kick the bottom of his foot when---

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, giving you a start. And then he used the heels of his feet to roll out from underneath on the creeper, his hands braced on the bumper, and gave you a smile. “You must think I’m dumb as hell,” he teased. His hands were covered in dirt and grease, and there was a smudge of black on his cheek.

“I didn’t know you heard me drive up,” you wrapped your arms around yourself and waited for him to stand.

Eddie got to his feet with a bounce in his step, holding the wrench he was using in one hand. “Oh, I could feel you coming a mile away, sweetheart.”

It was a playful flirtation, mostly a joke, but it was also true.

Without realizing what you were doing, you stepped forward to cup his face in your hand and used your thumb to wipe some of the dirt off of his cheek. “Sorry, there,” your eyes met, and something stirred in you. His breath caught in his chest, grateful for your touch.

Flustered, you moved back, clasping your hands behind your back so that you wouldn’t be tempted to touch him again.

“I guess this is goodbye,” you told him. “And thank you again, for everything.”

He couldn’t lie, the fact that you hadn’t evaporated in the middle of the night made him happier than he should be under the circumstances.

“Take care of yourself,” Eddie told you. “If you need anything, you know where I’ll be.”

“I’ll come back to visit.” It was a promise you didn’t know if you could keep, but you wanted it to be true.

“I’ll be here,” he gave a chuckle, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his coveralls.

You looked both ways and turned onto the highway, headed back in the direction you had come the day before. It was still overcast, but the sun was bright behind the clouds, and the rain had ceased for now. You flicked the radio on to Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now by Starship and took an unsteady breath as you drove down between cornfields, feeling like you were back on track; grateful for a new day, and looking forward to getting back to your life. Whatever that meant.

The two lane highway seemed to go on forever without any turn off or side roads, and you swore that you came off the exit ramp not too far down from Gary’s Garage. You reasoned that it had been pouring down rain, and you were...sad about something...so maybe you had driven for a longer distance and didn’t realize it.

45 minutes later, all of the radio channels went to static, and you pulled off to the side of the road to catch your bearings. You were the only car on the road that entire time, and at one point, you thought you saw a stop sign up ahead, but it ended up being a red piece of clothing hanging from a mile marker.

You swallowed back your fear and frustration and kept going, continuing to turn the radio dial, hoping for a song or some sign of life, but the static persisted.

“How do I not remember all of this corn?” The fields of tall, green corn stalks were endless, and you were sure that there had been tall trees at some point in your journey the day before.

God, you must’ve been really out of it that day.

Almost two hours later and you hadn’t passed a single street sign. The numbers on the mile markers were all out of order and didn’t make any sense. At one point you realized that there must’ve been some turn off that you missed, but it was too late to go back and find it, and if you just kept going, you were bound to run into a freeway or, at the very least, another town.

Later that day, after pulling over to weep frustrated tears several times and shout muffled screams into the palms of your hands, your heart leaped as you could see up ahead that the corn ended and turned into a cluster of trees. There were outlines of buildings and telephone poles: signs of life!

You pressed the gas to the floor, whispering “we did it we did it we did it” to your truck, choking on a sob of joy. You entered the city limits and wiped your eyes, glad to see an official speed limit sign. You passed by a friendly looking park and a Family Video, and then there was a quaint downtown area with a Radio Shack, and a general store. You yanked the wheel to park in front of the general store, because you were scared to know how well that one tampon was holding out, and you hoped to hell that they had a bathroom.

The woman named Joyce who worked there said they didn’t have a public restroom, but at second glance, she could tell that you were in a bad way, and said you could use the one in the break room. There were only a couple boxes of tampons on the shelf, and all of them were different brands and sizes. You had a weird feeling in your gut, but you disregarded it.

You tried to pay for the tampons and a bottle of water, but Joyce wouldn’t let you. She put her hand on top of yours, looked directly into your eyes, and what she said made the hair stand up all over your body. “Listen, I know it must be scary. But you’re going to be okay. Everything will be okay.”

She looked around to see if the other coworker on the opposite side of the room could hear her, and then she lowered her voice again, pushing the merchandise toward you discreetly on the counter. “These are on me, okay? You take care of yourself while you’re here.”

“...while you’re here…”

You were afraid to ask her where “here” was, and you wanted so badly for her to hug you and tell you it was all just a dream. She was just that type of person; the type you knew gave really tight, genuine hugs.

By the time you recognized Newby’s Diner and the Grove Motel from the road, you weren’t shocked to see them, in fact, a strange, empty resolve had begun to settle in you, one born of exhaustion, hunger, and mind-bending fear.

Later that night, on his way home from work, Eddie saw your truck parked at the motel again, and he felt guilty for being glad. He had this urge to check on you, to console you and let you know that everything would be okay—but he didn’t want to lie to you. There were two strands of your hair left on the passenger seat in his van, and he planned on leaving them there, just in case one day the rest of you didn’t exist, at least he would have that.

#eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem reader #80s nostalgia #80s

[artzychic27]

A little something for the Monster High au, because… True Monster High is honestly a bop for me

@imsparky2002 @msweebyness

“Hey, guys,” Nathaniel greets as his wings take him over to his class’ usual lunch table. Ivan and Alix make room for him so he can stretch them out a bit after his guard shift. “Did I miss anything?”

Kim answers, chucks of his steak flying out of his mouth and onto his tray. “Nah, you’re just in time. Looks like Jean’s got a performance planned.” Alix gives him a swift slap to the arm, reminding him not to talk with his mouthful. “He’s been hinting that he got inspired by a history lesson from like… A week ago?”

Nino gives a low, impressed whistle. “Damn, he writes fast.”

Rose’s bones begin to rattle with excitement. “Well, I can’t wait to watch! Do you think he has someone singing in his place, or he’s using a recording?”

Quickly swatting away one of the flies buzzing around her, Sabrina groans and gets a few nods from around the table.

“Yeah, I do like hearing his voice,” Marinette agrees. “Well, fingers crossed.” She struggles a bit to cross her felt fingers. When Nino tries to help her, she swats his hand away. “I got it, hold on…” Eventually, she gets it. “Fingers crossed.” Alya gives a fond roll of her eyes and tussles her yarn hair. “Oh! It looks like it starting!”

The lights in the cafeteria dim a bit, the only source of light coming from Aurore’s hand, scenting as sort of a spotlight for the young phantom who stands in the middle of the room as a soft guitar melody plays from somewhere, followed by Jean’s disembodied voice.

Jean: Have you ever heard the story

Of dear old Mr. Hyde?

Half human and half monster

Whom everyone despised

Alya gasps and quickly whips out her phone.

Many of the students were becoming interested and were literally on the edge of their seats. The story of Jekyll and Hyde was the most famous story in monster history, of course, they were interested.

Jean: It's a cautionary tale

That should never be forgotten

Jean walks through the cafeteria, which turns into more of a glide thanks to his phantom powers

Jean: His secret was his undoing

Then things turned out really rotten

He gets up on top of a table and strikes a pose before flipping his hair and turning to the crowd with a smirk

Jean: Gimme a beat!

While there was a rhythmic drumming coming from wherever the music was playing, the students added on by hitting their lunch trays against the table or tapping their feet/talons/hooves against the floor

Jean: Mr. Hyde, he tried and tried

To fit in with his kind

Monsters hated human Jekyll

And humans hated the monster Hyde

Could you imagine being both and neither at the same time?

Mr. Hyde, he was truly cursed

'Cause we know monsters are the best, yeah

“Hell yeah!” Cosette cheered.

Jean: And humans are the worst, bleh

Jean stuck out his tongue on cue with the lyrics

Jean: Humans are the scariest, smelliest and hairiest

They're all a bunch of creepy freaks

In time with the beat, the students and even some teachers clap.

Jean: We're the coolest of the cool

We all know that monsters rule

Clap along if you agree!

The students all clap.

Jean: Don't be afraid to show your tru-u-u-u-ue monster heart

Don't be afraid to show your tru-u-u-u-ue monster heart

At this point, a few of the students, specifically the couples have gotten up to dance around the phantom in what almost looks like a choreographed routine

Jean: Okay okay okay yeah

Go ahead and let it out

You know it's time to shout

Do what us monsters do and show your tru-u-u-u-ue

Show your tru-u-u-u-ue monster heart

M O N S T E R, hey

Show them who you really are

H U M A N S, hey

A few students on the fearleading squad spell out the letters with their severed limbs and serve as sort of back up dancers for Jean when the couples take their seats for a moment

Jean: Humans are the worst and we're the best!

Mr. Hyde was put on trial

His crime, hiding the truth

No one would believe him

'Cause his heart was half untrue

Jean approaches his boyfriend and taps where his heart would be. The young reaper plays along and pretends to look aghast before the two share a quick kiss

Jean: Rules are rules and when monsters chose

To enforce the rules it got gruesome

No one ever had his back

Hyde was shunned, that's a fact

They were scared 'cause he was half human, ugh

Chloé gags in time with the lyrics and smiles a bit when she sees Sabrina dancing in her seat.

Jean: Humans are unbearable, altogether terrible!

Chloé: Just a bunch of freaky creeps!

Zoé looks almost shocked when she heard Chloé sing along, but still claps.

Jean: Humans smell like dirty socks

Denise: We all know that monsters rock.

Simon looks at his partner with fondness in his eye at the sound of their singing voice.

Marc: Clap along if you agree.

With that line, Marc crossed one leg over the other and clapped all four of his hands to the beat.

Jean: Don't be afraid to show your tru-u-u-u-ue monster heart

Don't be afraid to show your tru-u-u-u-ue monster heart

Okay okay okay yeah

True to his love for the Rockabilly genre, Jean does a knee slide, eliciting an uproar of cheers from everyone in the room and got a few students to throw up the goats

Jean: Go ahead and let it out

You know it's time to shout

Do what us monsters do and show your tru-u-u-u-ue

Show your tru-u-u-u-ue monster heart

M O N S T E R, I say

Show them who you really are, let's go

H U M A N S, ugh

Humans are the worst and we're the best

Jean finishes his performance with a pose in the middle of the room as the students and teachers clap and cheer for the phantom. He gives a bow and preens off the praise.

“Thank you!” They finally speak. “Thank you! As usual, it is a pleasure performing for you all!” With a quick flip of their hair, Jean sits at their table where they’re met with congratulatory pats on the back.

“Bonito!” Denise gives Jean a strong pat on the back, almost making him fall out of his seat. “It was so worth the wait.”

“Warn me before you come at me with that masterpiece!” Ismael exclaims and curls up by Jean to purr against him. “In all seriousness, that was a total bop. Give me a copy of that, will ya?”

Jean smiles and gives Ismael a scratch behind the ears. “Of course, Ismael.”

“That was by far the greatest performance I have ever seen!” Her eyes turn a bright yellow to match her current emotions. “An excellent retelling of Hyde and the Doctor. Though, it does make me wonder what happened to him.”

Cosette points to the extraterrestrial. “Oh, now that’s a mystery. No one knows where he went, but anywhere he goes, he’s not gonna be accepted.”

“It is the sad life of a monster-human hybrid,” Reshma chirps. “Humans fear him, monsters hate him. He cannot win.”

Out of the corner of their eye, Denise catches Simon staring at something from across the room. “Everything alright, amour?” The students all look at what has Simon’s attention and find a strange blur going past the window.”

Marc squints his eyes. “Am I the only one who saw that?”

“Definitely not,” Zoé answers.

“Maybe it’s one of the shadow imps,” Mireille figures, and their friends all shrug and take that as the answer.

Outside, a hooded figure sprints away from the school, thankfully going unnoticed as the gargoyles were all on break. Feeling his hood starting to fall, he pulls it back over his head to cover his blonde locks and continue his sprint.

‘Well,’ he thinks in between pants. ‘They’re definitely not going to like having a human at their school next month.’

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #school for monstrous youths #monster high au #mlb au #songfic

[yaehao]

WC: 2635

Content warnings: Party scene, suggestive content, alcohol use, cursing, someone kind of being mean to Yn </3

October 29

⊱ ────────── ⊰

If there was anything Jeonghan was bad at, it was coordinating times with the friend group. While he had told you he was going to pick you up at 10, here he was knocking on the door of your dorm at 9:30 while you hadn't even picked an outfit yet.  

"YN OPEN THE DOOR U DON'T HAVE TO BE READY YET."

"HOLD ON I'M LITERALLY HALF NAKED."

"GROSS WHAT THE HELL."

You laughed loudly before throwing a t-shirt on and heading over to unlock and open the door. He threw his arms around you in a hug and let himself into the room, immediately heading over to your bed to throw himself on it. You returned to your desk to finish up your makeup.

"Why are you here so early? I thought you said you'd be here at 10."

He pouted at you and exaggerated a sad voice. "But Momo, Cheol, and I miss you."

You turned around sharply.

“YOU MISSED DEEZ NUTS-”

“Bro- okay.”

You let out soft giggles as you turned back around to finish your eyeliner, sharp enough to cut paper. 

“Do you wanna pick out my outfit?” You asked Jeonghan as you began closing your different palettes to put everything back into place. 

He immediately jumped off the bed, heading over to your closet.

“YES, DUH!”

After putting your makeup back, you turned around in your chair to watch Jeonghan rummage through your clothes. He pulled out a pair of high-waisted black denim shorts and a white bustier top.

“These are cute!”

“Hello? It’s 10 PM, what if I get cold?”

“Then come get me and I’ll give you my jacket, duh.” He said nonchalantly and tossed the outfit to you.

“Go change, pretty thing, and then we’ll go.”

You rolled your eyes at him and headed to your bathroom to change into the outfit he picked. Once satisfied with how you looked, you stepped out and stood in front of Jeonghan again, striking a few poses.

He smiled and looked you up and down. “I have such good fashion sense.”

You laughed and lightly hit his arm. “So you compliment yourself but not me?”

“Oh, I guess you look okay too.”

You glared at him and he put his hands up defensively in front of him.

“I’M JOKING YN, PLEASE. You look absolutely gorgeous.” 

A small smile grew on your face and you walked past him to grab your purse off your desk before walking towards the door of your dorm.

“Let’s go!”

⊱ ────────── ⊰

Upon entering, you noticed that the party was already fully underway. You grabbed onto Jeonghan’s arm and looked up at him. “Don’t leave me alone, okay?” He chuckled and nodded, leading you into the house. Once entering the kitchen, you found a large group gathered around a pong table, and could immediately pick out two faces.

“MOMO! CHEOL!” You waved at them, and they immediately left the table to greet you with tight hugs.

“YN I DIDN’T THINK YOU’D ACTUALLY COME!” Momo did her best to talk over the music. “WE HAVE TO PLAY RAGE CAGE LATER, OKAY?”

“OKAY, I’M GONNA EAT SOMETHING WITH HANNIE REAL QUICK AND I’LL COME BACK TO YOU GUYS OKAY?” 

Momo smiled and nodded and let you off with Jeonghan. He poured some soda into a cup and picked a slice of pizza from the many laid out on the kitchen counter.

You pouted at him. “I thought you were going to pour me a shot.”

“Eat and drink soda first. You need a chaser, I don’t want you drinking alcohol without a chaser.”

“Okay, fine.” You took the food from him and sat down on one of the nearby couches to eat. While chugging down the cup of soda so you could finally get something else to drink, you noticed Jeonghan smile at a girl who passed by the two of you. She looked familiar but you couldn’t exactly pinpoint where you’d seen her before.

“Stay here, Yn. I’ll be right back. Call me if you need something but I’ll be back in like five minutes tops.” 

You nodded at him and smirked as you watched him chase the girl down and disappear into a crowd. You immediately knew that he’d probably be back in half an hour. Not that you minded, your other best friends were at the party as well and you could easily go to them if you needed anything.

A few minutes went by and you’d finished eating, now just scrolling through Instagram on your phone, before the seat next to you on the couch was suddenly taken. You’d never seen the guy before, but the sight of him admittedly took your breath away. He was gorgeous. There was absolutely no way he was real.

He turned toward you and flashed a charming smile.

“What are you doing here alone?” He asked, his voice sounding like honey.

“Oh, I’m here with a few friends but I just wanted to eat.” You answered back at him. “I’m probably gonna get a drink in a bit.”

“Do you want me to get us some?” 

“I’ll go with you!” You nodded. You were smarter than to have a random stranger pour you a drink without you watching him. You followed him back into the kitchen and chose a seltzer from one of the coolers. You cracked it open and began drinking, watching as he poured himself a few shots of soju to drink as well.

“My name is Jaehyun by the way.” He leaned down to explain. “This is my frat’s house.”

“My name is Yn! It’s my first party this year.” You smiled and he laughed.

“Oh I know. I’m sure I’d recognize a face as pretty as yours if I’d seen it before.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his comment and opted to take another large swig from your drink to avoid him noticing. 

“Do you wanna go dance?” He finally asked, and you nodded with a big smile.

He led you out of the kitchen and into the living area, where he immediately pulled you into him, his hand resting on the small of your back. Your hips instinctively moved against his to the beat of the music, not a care in the world for anyone else around you.

You felt his breath on your neck as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous, Yn. I’m so glad you’re here tonight, I feel so lucky.” His voice was low, your stomach doing flips as the words left his mouth. You sighed and leaned into him more, the alcohol beginning to take over your senses. The both of you would’ve continued if you weren’t taken off guard by someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you off of Jaehyun, shoving him away in the process.

You looked up at the offender and came face to face with familiarity.

“Chan- what the fuck?”

You studied his face more, noticing his jaw clenched and eyes dark. He looked absolutely livid.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Jae?” Chan paid no attention to you as he cursed at the frat member.

You ripped your wrist out of Chan’s grasp and stepped in between Chan and Jaehyun, staring up at Chan.

“Are YOU fucking kidding me, Chan?” You cursed, and he finally turned his attention toward you. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I’m having fun and you’re acting like you’re some fucking jealous boyfriend!”

His voice softened as he tried to explain himself to you. “Yn- that’s not what I’m- Jae- He’s-”

“I don’t care. I didn’t ask you to ruin my fun. Leave me alone.” You spat and returned back to Jaehyun.

Chan opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He left the living room, walking back to the kitchen and frantically pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Performing arts buddies

Chan: Kwan, Yn’s with Jeong Jaehyun right now, can you call Jeonghan pls?? I don’t think she knows what she’s doing, she’s never met him, she doesn’t know anything about him

Kwan: Wtf??? Okay hold on

Han isn’t answering his phone

Chan: Shit- okay hold on

Where’s Shua and Vernon

Kwan: With Mark and Johnny

Chan: Can you tell them to tell Jaehyun that they need him for something or something like that??

Shua: What’s going on??

Chan: SHUA please take vernon mark and johnny and go inside to the living room, yn is dancing with Jaehyun and I don’t want her to get herself into trouble, she’s drunk rn

Vernon: Jaehyun like Jeong “Campus Frat Fuckboy” Jaehyun?

Chan: YES PLEASE GET HIM OUT OF HERE

Kwan: Operation save Yn from Jae ig

Chan shoved his phone back into his pocket and looked around the room for Seokmin. He found him grabbing his own drinks from the cooler and ran over to him.

“Seok- please help me. Can you come with me to the living room I’m trying to get Yn away from Jaehyun but I know she won’t listen to me- can you help?”

Seokmin’s eyes widened before he nodded and followed Chan into the living room.

You were still with Jaehyun in the middle of the dance floor, another seltzer in and his hands still on your hips. He took your hand after a while, ready to lead you to the upper floor to find a room for the two of you. Your stomach twisted, though you weren’t sure if it was in excitement, nervousness, or flat out regret. However, you didn’t have to find out when a very panicked Vernon and Mark came running toward him, grabbing his hand and dragging him outside, screaming something about a broken table.

Jaehyun, obviously pissed, called out a “Stay right there, Yn, I’ll be right back.” to you before following the two boys outside where you saw Johnny sitting on a broken table on the ground.

In your disoriented state, sitting on the bottom stair of the staircase, you noticed a tall figure and a bright smile come up to you.

“Yn! It’s Seokmin! We have English5 together!” His voice was way too cheery for it to be almost midnight.

You smiled up at him back as he continued talking. “You look tired, are you okay? Do you want something to eat?”

You thought about it for a bit, then nodded. Frankly, you really didn’t want to do anything with Jaehyun. Seokmin brought you back to the kitchen, where Chan was waiting, sitting at the counter and eating his own slice of pizza.

You reluctantly sat next to him and whispered a “Hi, Chan.”

“Hi Yn. You okay?” He asked and rubbed your back.

“Yeah- just kind of tired I think. And my head is starting to hurt.” You laughed lightly and he smiled sympathetically. 

“Did anything happen with Jaehyun?”

“No, some of his friends needed him for something. Which I’m kind of grateful for- I really wasn’t planning on letting some guy fuck me tonight.” You sighed and thanked Seokmin when he came over with a slice of pizza on a plate.

“Yn! What the fuck?” You turned to see a very angry Jehyun standing at the entrance to the kitchen. 

“Sorry Jaehyun- I don’t really w-”

His words struck hard. “Whatever. You’re not even that pretty anyways, I knew you’d just be an easy bitch-”

“Shut the fuck up, Jaehyun.” Chan spoke up next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder protectively. “Don’t you fucking dare think that you can talk about Yn like that.” His voice began rising in volume. “Get the fuck out, and don’t ever talk to her ever again.” 

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “You’re a little shit aren’t you, Lee Chan. You’re never gonna amount to anything but a failure.” He left the kitchen, and you heard the door to the backyard open before slamming shut.

"God- what an actual fucking child." Chan muttered under his breath, then turned toward you, his eyes widening immediately. “Yn- are you crying? Shit-” He took his jacket off and wrapped it around you. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I don’t want you to be here any longer than you have to.” 

You nodded silently, feeling the tears streaming down your cheeks. He took your hand and led you out the front door of the frat house to his car. He opened the passenger side door and helped you in before walking around to his own side and getting in as well.

He glanced at you worriedly while starting his car.

“None of what he said is true, Yn, you know that.” You could only respond with soft sniffles.

“Yn.” His call of your name prompted you to look up at him.

“You are the strongest, most beautiful girl on this entire planet.” He spoke with a sincerity that you’d never heard before.

Your heart fluttered and a small smile crept on your lips as you wiped your tears.

“There’s that pretty smile.” Chan smiled with you and you turned away from him.

He sat back into his seat and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Do you wanna get ice cream or something? Or do you want me to just take you back to your dorm?”

“Can we just go back to the dorm?” 

“Anything you want.”

He started his car and handed you his phone to input the directions and pick songs for the ride. The drive back was mostly silent aside from soft music coming from his radio. It didn’t take long for him to pull into your building’s parking lot. He cut the engine and helped you out of the car. You led him into the building and up to your dorm, unlocking the door and opening it.

He was satisfied knowing that you had gotten back safe, and turned to leave. However, your hand wrapped around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Chan- this is embarrassing to ask but- will you stay with me? Just for a bit?” You asked. He nodded quickly, his heart breaking as he heard the quiver in your voice, and followed you into the room. You shut the door and locked it behind you, quickly excusing yourself to the restroom to wash your face and change into something more comfortable.

You did so, stepping out shortly after to see Chan sitting at your desk on his phone.

“I think I kind of just want to sleep.” You admitted, and Chan nodded.

“Go ahead, I’m right here, okay?”

You smiled and thanked him before slipping under your bed sheets.

“Can you turn off the light please?” You requested, and he obliged immediately.

Another few minutes passed by, but you couldn’t sleep. Chan was still sitting at your desk, idly scrolling through his phone, waiting to make sure you fell asleep. An idea popped into your head, but there was no way you could ask him. Or- was there? Well, there was no harm in asking.

“Chan?”

“What’s up?”

“This might be a bit weird but-” You paused. “Could you come sleep with me?”

He felt his heart hammer in his chest. “Are you sure?”

You responded by scooting over in your bed, leaving an open space for him. He laughed lightly before taking his shoes off and pulling your blanket up to slip into the space. You scooted yourself back into him, his hand moving to rest on your waist. The warmth of his body transferred into yours, allowing you to finally feel safe and comfortable. Your tiredness took over you shortly as you slipped in an out of consciousness before finally allowing sleep to overtake you.

⋆⑅˚₊ imperfect love: a seventeen social media au

-ˏˋ summary: after he transferred out of her highschool during their second year, yn thought she’d finally gotten rid of her school bully, lee chan. however, that proves to be false when he shows up in her first university lecture. this time, though, he wants to make amends and prove that he’s not the same kid he was before, but yn and her friends won’t give him the chance that easily.

-ˏˋ part 15: stay here

-ˏˋ next: room selfies

-ˏˋ previous: guy problems

-ˏˋ series masterlist

a note: i need to buy my svt tickets soon LFMAO also sorry yall i had to do it to jaehyun HAJFHDSF PLEASE I JUST LIKE NEEDED SOMEONE I COULD MAKE THE FRAT HOUSE VILLAIN IM SORRYYYY </3333 I KNOW HE’S NOTLIKE THAT

ask/dm to be on the tag list!

tag list: @yaebbinnie ​​@mythicalamphitrite ​​@softforqiankun ​​ @amazingly-amazing-loser ​​@illymontyshit ​​ @seventeeneration ​​@pooofthechicken ​​@plushjeno ​​ @atomoonchild ​​ @http-mewchuu​​​ @projectjuvia​​ @irantoyouwithoutthinking​​ @shuaeunie​​ @sonje78​​ @moon-gyus​​ @odetoyeonjun​​ @shrutiajit​​ @charlieshelves​​ @geniejunn​​ @dimpledinnie​​ @iho6hi​​​ @horangheyy​ @imcoenffl​​​ @ourschan​​ @tailah-haderson-gilbert​​ @jinskiy14​​ @en-boyz​​​ @candidupped​​ @dearly-somber ​@jeminiepabo ​ @cass1814 ​

#imperfect love seventeen #seventeen #seventeen social media au #senveteen sm au #svt sm au #svt social media au #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen texts #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt imaines #svt scenarios #svt texts #svt fluff #svt angst #svt au #svt dino x reader #seventeen dino x reader #lee chan x reader #seventeen dino au #svt dino au #lee chan au #yaehao #chai writes

[fanficwriter284]

I actually have my own idea for this but I wanna see yours!! How about a teen!chiffany fic where it's prom night for them?

OOoooO!!!!!!!!!! NOW, THIS......THIS IS CUTE!!!!! I'd love to read yours!

Chucky stared in the mirror for 10 whole minutes. He was continuous, adjusting his bow tie. Trying to find a way to distract himself from the task at hand. It was prom night. Tiffany had been looking forward to the day ever since the date was announced....him on the other hand. A nervous wreck. He was never the best with this sort of thing. The ticking from the clock on his nightstand irritated him with each progressive tick growing louder and louder. He silenced it making sure no sound came from the clock. He did one final bow tie readjustment before heading out. He turned back looking for his mom to say goodbye and that he'll be back soon.... however, his thoughts snapped back to reality when he remembered that she was in the hospital. He let out a long sigh and shut the door behind him walking to the school in his freshly pressed suit. It fit nicely against him as the made his way to the school. With each step, he grew more and more anxious and fiddled with the sides of his suit to distract himself. Noticing how close he was getting to the building he felt his heart pounding against his chest, now tugging at his collar to release some tension. With one final tug he entered the building, greeted was loud music, several students dancing and others drinking punch...however Chucky assumed that it had most likely been spiked, judging by the crowd.

He helped himself to the snack bar grabbing mini sandwiches to satisfy the hunger within him. He jolted when he felt someone tap his shoulder from behind. He turned over to see who it was but was greeted with the sight of no one. Chucky raising an eyebrow smirked and took another bite of his sandwich.

"I know it's you Tiff"

"Hehe!! Surprise!!! What do you think of my dress?"

Chucky nearly choked on the sandwich, he studied her, looking at the dress. The vermillion color, it nicely shaping her, and the flowing ends of it. Her blonde hair brushed back slightly curling behind her ears, making her emerald earing pop and seem to glow. Her makeup was applied to make her look even more flawless and beautiful. Chucky was left speechless.

"W---wow........"

Tiffany giggled to herself and took a look at her date. His suit, fitted against him, giving his upper body some shape, his hair was short and combed backward giving him more of a sophisticated look. Tiffany grinned at this and ran her manicured nails through his hair ruffling it a bit. Giving it that puffy look she loved. She took him by the hand and dragged him to the dance floor, Chucky reluctantly trailing behind. She grabbed the side of his suit and simply held him close. The two of them waltzed together, in sync with the hypnotic melody.

"You look handsome tonight"

"T--Thanks you too.....wait....I mean..."

Tiffany giggled burring her face into his chest. He never ceased to make her laugh.

"I mean you look beautiful tonight"

"Thank you Sweetface"

Their fingers interlocked with one another, as they dance, Tiffany resting her face on his chest, listening to the thumping of his heart.

"Hey Chucky?"

"Yeah?"

She tilted her head up, her coffee-brown eyes locking with his baby-blue ones. She caressed the side of his cheek and pulled him close for a kiss, shutting her eyes, and feeling Chucky smiling while they kissed. Chucky ran his hands at her sides pulling her in a little tighter, with one of his hands in her hair lightly running his fingers through it. Neither of them wanted to break the kiss. However, both were in sync and parted, resting their heads against each other.

"Hey excuse me? Would you two like a photo?"

Tiffany nodded her head, and Chucky responded with a light head nod. They posed, Tiffany resting her head on Chucky and Chucky with his arm around her waist.

"Ok, 3 2 1, got it! Enjoy the rest of the night!"

"Thank you"

"Thanks"

Tiffany tugged at his side and motioned for them to both resume their dance. Together embracing dancing, the night away.

#Teen Chiffany #Prom!!! #This was so much fun to write!!! #chiffany

[short-hot-stories]

Posing Leads To...

Artwork leads to passion for virgin artist.

By SoCaliDude. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I’m a 19-year-old sophomore at Pasadena City College where Ron, 24,  graduated a few years earlier. He’s now a junior at CSUF.

Ron and I met at a retirement event for our favorite teacher, Joe Keene.

I’m a 5-7, average blonde, brown eyes and freckles. Ron is 5 foot 10 with brown hair and green eyes. Folks say I’m shy, but Ron say’s my smile is captivating. while Ron could talk to anyone. His friend Joe suggested that we date, but I wanted friendship to prevent dating "distractions."

I’m was an art major. Ron is a media major.

Later, Ron bumped into me at Nicodel's, a popular Colorado Boulevard lunch spot across the street from P.C.C. Many of us ate there as our campus cafeteria was awful. As in really awful. Nic's had great food, was quiet with red brick and plenty of plants.

When Ron arrived, I was in a, rear, booth, crying. When he asked why, I told him the guy I hired to pose for my final figure project took my $100 and walked out.

"I had to draw him today,, I sobbed. It's my final project... I am ruined!"

"What were you drawing? Why $100?"

"Silly boy, it was a figure pose... as in nude..." I explained.

"Oh, he said. "I didn't know... I bet there are plenty of guys, on campus, who will get naked for you..."

"Yea, right," I responded. "They will want something other than $100, and I am, now, broke and I don't want their STDs. This is a major project. I am in, awful. trouble, here..."

"If you need a naked man, and put someone else's face, I could volunteer if you let me take naked pictures of you for my photo class..."

"Seriously?" I said. "Kind of like me posing for Playboy? That is a college girl's fantasy."

"Seriously..." Ron responded. "My SLR is in my car. I just need some 400 film-for natural light. Do you really want to pose nude?"

"I really need this grade... I am not much to look at... Covered with freckles and a hairy bush. I hope I don't scare you away..."

"You won't scare me. I lost my v-card last year and hairy pussies turn me on.."

"I hope you aren't planning sex," I admitted. "I've never even seen a naked guy and still am a virgin.."

We walked to his car, drove to the store-for film, and to my house...

"My mom is on the closing crew-at Sears, so we have about six hours of time..."

Ron dropped me at her door and parked his Camaro on the street... probly not believing I would see me, naked, within the hour... He knocked on the front door, I shouted, "It's unlocked, walk in. I am changing into my bathrobe..."

He walked in, shut the door behind him, and I greeted him in a plush, white, robe... walked him to our family room, turned around and dropped my robe, revealing my natural pine-cone shaped breasts, covered with freckles and a, very, bushy pussy... He couldn't help getting rock-hard, and dropped his jogging shorts and briefs and removed his t-shirt, revealing his plush hairy chest and crotch. This nude project was, quickly, moving forward...

I, quickly, grabbed my sketchpad, then, told him to stand on the end table, and started to draw him as his cock, shrank in his nervousness. I quickly, started drawing, acting as if he & I wern’t nude... I was just another model-to him...

I placed the sketch pad in my lap, covering my bushy pubes. However, my excited nipples pointed directly at him. For the first time, my good friend, was sexually attracting me, causing him to get hard, again. I acted like I didn't seem to mind, just smiled as I sketched.

About an hour, later, I concluded my work, stood up and showed him the final product, having added longer hair and a beard with goatee, to protect his anonymity, walked up, hugged, and French-kissed him, saying, "Thank you for saving my grade."

Ron had me stand next to the curtain, and took a, single, frontal nude, for his side of our deal. He said I was beautiful!

As he laid down on the comforter, on the sofa, I gathered up my nerves and gave into some new aroused passion, and shocked him by placing my pussy above his cock, reached for his manhood, which, quickly, became erect, saying, "We've done everything except make love," kissing him, again, as I slid onto him, popping my cherry, and surrendering my virginity.

"This is fantastic!" I shouted, as we joined, in passion. "I never dreamed sex would be this great!"

He gasped as he entered my warm, wet, hairy, pussy. I was in shock, then, quickly, reacted, as we pumped, together. Soon, we both "came" as Ron shook. Then, I grabbed the, bloody, sheet from the sofa, dumped it in the washer "to destroy the evidence," then led him to the shower "to wash off more evidence." All of our bathing had his cock, rock-hard, though, as we French-kissed under the shower... When he attempted to slide himself into my hairy pussy, I stopped him, saying... "Let's go to my bed. NOW!!!"

Moments later, he was eating my hairy pussy and stroking my breasts as I screamed in ecstasy, "Oh, oh, please don't stop. Your tongue, RIGHT THERE on my clit! Oh my..... OH MY... Uh!" before my first oral orgasm thunderstruck my body into convulsions!!!

He gently held me as I returned from orbit.... As I moaned in pleasure....

"That was so, freaking awesome!" I sighed... "I didn't think I was capable of feeling so great! Can I keep your tongue at my command???"

"I don't give it away, I laughed. Love my tongue, love me... And my tongue comes with a cock, that wants to be inside your bushy pussy! He is turned on by you..." He said....

I pulled Ron on top of me and he sucked my breasts as he slid his rock-hard, cock inside my soaking wet pussy... We rocked, together, missionary, kissing and stroking into a mutual climax and creampie before spooning to sleep..."

"Robyn? Robyn??? Who is that with you????? We woke up to the sound of my mother's surprise in the bedroom... "This is my, uh, friend, Mark, from school..."

"You are naked, under the covers, together..." said my mom... "You are closer than most friends..."

"You are right," I responded. "Mark saved my art project by posing for me when my model bailed out. Mark is a sweet man from school and I gave him my virginity after his tongue sent my pussy past the milky way... I hope he wants to stick around... I've crushed on him at school and want to share our lives..."

"Thanks for making my girl happy!" Mother said to Ron... "I hope you two used protection..."

"Don't worry," I assured mom... My period starts in two days... "I am in my safe zone... Which is great, because I want Mark's cock, again, as soon as you give us some privacy... Goodbye, mom!!!"

As soon as mom left the room, I rolled over and slid his cock into me, doggy-style... We rocked, into a passionate, mutual climax... together...

by SoCaliDude for Literotica

[writerleo86]

Terravenger - Season 5: Part Two - Episode 438 (Do Not Copy)

   During one bright morning, a biker arrived at the front of a large circular building which was surrounded by great grass and beautiful trees. The person parked their motorcycle near the right side of the building. And the person began walking on the short stairway which led to the two doors of the large white building.

   The biker wore a white T-shirt with signatures on the chest area that were posted in black letters. He had on a pair of dark-blue jeans, gray socks, and tied brown shoes. He also wore an opened coat which was made of dark-brown leather. And the person still wore his black helmet.

   The biker made his way through the long building and found himself in a large backyard that was by a beautiful forest. And around the yard were people either sitting on small chairs or standing at various spots.

   Standing before the forest were two younger people. One of them was a young man with gray eyes and pale skin. He had blond hair that lowered to his back. And he had a fine beard. He wore a light-gray undershirt with a picture of a white magnifying glass in a gray circle printed at the left side of the chest. He also wore a pair of baggy light-gray pants, white socks, and gray slippers. On the top of his right arm was a large golden tattoo.

   Once he noticed the biker standing nearby, the young man walked forward. Then the biker took off his helmet.

   The biker who was revealed as Bryan Chaolan wrapped his helmet around his right arm.

   He soon gave a soft smile and greeted "How are you doing, O?"

Terravenger -- Season 5: Part Two -- Episode 438:  Former Inmates Turned Friends

During one afternoon, the counselor Mercury who was undercover as an inmate had sat alone with a tray of food at a table near the door out of the eating room which was at the Asprosippos Prison.

Someone else walked toward the table while carrying their own tray of food.

The person asked "You're new here right?"

Mercury looked up at the man and answered "Yes, I am."

He allowed the other inmate to sit down. And the inmate began eating as he sat across from Mercury.

The inmate was a young man with pale skin, short blond hair, and gray eyes. He wore a white T-shirt underneath an opened gray top with long sleeves. He also had on a pair of gray pants, black socks, and brown slippers. And he had a small white plate placed on his left shoulder that had six different numbers.

After a few minutes had passed, the man presented his right fist.

"Everyone calls me O," He introduced himself.

   Sitting at one of the small white tables were the two men -- Bryan Chaolan and O -- as they remained at the backyard of the large building.

   "So?" asked Bryan. "How are they treating you here?"

   O shook his head and answered "Great. The boss is taking great care of me."

   Bryan implied "The owner of this building is an old friend of your mother's. Not to mention he is a reformed drug addict. He should know exactly what you are going through."

   O lowered his head and informed Bryan "After being here for three weeks, I figured out what triggered me. I remember exactly what made me start using again. It was the death of my dad."

   Bryan shook his head and asked "You were close with your dad?"

   "I was very close to him," answered O. "Mom and I weren't always. But I know she's making up for it now."

   Then O asked "How's our man doing these days?"

   A saddened Bryan lowered his head and said "I guess you haven't heard yet."

During one morning on the prison planet K3-0, the young knight Mercury posing as an inmate had walked through the long hallway with another inmate who became an unlikely ally to Mercury.

It was the former assassin named Kyle Troi. He was a slender man with pale skin, tan eyes, and short white hair. He wore a white T-shirt underneath an opened gray shirt that was sleeveless. He also had on a pair of gray pants, black socks, and brown slippers.

The pair continued through a long hallway of prisoners who remained locked inside their small cells. Then Mercury stopped at the middle of the hall as Troi continued. And Troi stopped as well.

"Hey!" Troi called. "Are you coming?"

A calm Mercury soon walked a few steps toward a closed door at the left side of the hall. And he found someone sitting on an old bench at the other side of the small cell.

This inmate was revealed as Bryan Chaolan with short blond hair and a full beard. He wore a white T-shirt, gray pants, black socks, and brown slippers. And he had his large golden tattoo on the top of his right arm.

Mercury placed his right hand around one of the bars that made the door. Bryan soon rose his head. And he faced Mercury with no emotion.

Then Bryan heard a familiar male voice tell him "It will be alright, Bryan Chaolan."

And Bryan grew scared as Mercury gave a soft smile.

   A few minutes later, the calm Bryan informed O of the outcome of their friend. After that, a concerned O lowered his head.

   "Are you sure?" He asked.

   Bryan shook his head and replied "He said it himself. I still can't believe it."

   In the Principal's Office at the Midas Academy, the principal and commander of the Midas Academy -- Beau Ravenstone -- sat at his desk with his head lowered.

   He wore a white shirt underneath a buttoned khaki top that had his MAF badge placed on the front left side. He also had on a pair of long khaki pants and black boots. And a thick silver cuff was around each wrist on his top.

   After he read a thick piece of white paper which was actually an important document, a concerned Beau stared at the door in front of him.

[fmdduri]

famedscheduleq422 - self para.

character(s) involved: n/a. about: duri’s at the photoshoot for titan’s season’s greetings. main themes include being tired and wondering why the pants don’t seem to go past his ankles. trigger warnings: n/a. notes: me vs trying to actually do schedule self paras early instead of doing them all last minute. word count: 844.

every year they had a photoshoot to do for a season’s greeting; it was one of the many things that duri had gotten rather used to when it came to schedules. photoshoots were something that he had gotten comfortable with after so long, considering it seemed to be one of the things that he does the most now. since  a lot of his solo schedules had become photoshoots and shoots with his brand ambassadorships, which almost felt a bit odd that so many people wanted him to be the face of their brands. he wasn’t entirely sure if it was something that he was ever going to get used to; it just never seemed right, but that was probably just those incredibly ridiculous insecurities that duri has for no reason what so ever. but, that was something that wasn’t that important currently. 

he had gotten through doing the group photos, something that generally took a bit with how many photos tend to be taken with the different poses, the different positions, things changing, and everything in between. it was your normal thing, something that never changed for group photoshoots. they filmed the teaser videos of the group speaking, which felt a bit different because he felt like that was something that titan didn’t often do. but, he always welcomed that kind of change, to say the least. they finish up a few more things, before being told that it was time for the individual shots. which just meant that it would be a while until they got to duri. which also meant that duri would have find ways to entertain himself until that time came.

duri does the normal things that he does, linger around the set, and talking to the staff members that he comes in contact; always looking for someone to have a conversation with. which was probably always why duri always seemed more extroverted than ambiverted, but he swears that he’s an ambivert because he always needed to recharge from social settings. though, probably not really from this, considering it wasn’t as big of a social setting. though, he could say he was rather tired, something that was pretty normal for park duri, it seems. but, he always got through it, and he was determined to get through the day, even if he was rather tired. he always managed to do it. 

though, he’d probably search for some coffee to actually help with that - and he was sure to do just that. it helped to really just wake him up a bit more, which was always nice. so, he went on the hunt to find at least something lingering around, and luckily, there was an area of coffee to really be his savior in this moment. he had quickly made his way, before making sure to fill up a cup, and drink the coffee rather carefully, and a bit quickly (even though it was hot), just incase he was up soon. then again, that wasn’t actually the case, considering the fact that he still had a while to go with him often being one of the last members to shoot the individual shots. nonetheless, following his coffee escapade, duri simply just makes his way to relax for a while, even talk to the group’s youngest for a bit. 

after that while, he had made his way towards a dressing room, just to fix his outfit a bit from the walking around, the sitting, and everything else. he enters, before going over to a mirror, where he looks over himself, and straightens things out. he still was rather confused by his own outfit, mainly why he felt like the fact that the pants didn’t go pass his ankles. was that some kind of look that he didn’t quite understand? or was it an accident on the styling part? it was too late now to tell minho, especially since he went through group shots like that, and no one saw anything wrong with the pants. so, he’d just kind of pretend like there wasn’t anything wrong; even if he does think he looks a little weird with the pants. but, what was he meant to do? nonetheless, he’s sure to straighten everything out, before he’d make his way towards other stylists to adjust his makeup and fix his hair a bit before he was off to do his own individual shots. 

he goes through those same old motions, doing everything that he knew, that he’s learned; and that he apparently does really well with photoshoots, never excepting to actively be as good as he gets praised when it comes to photoshoots. perhaps, maybe, duri had to really just get over those ridiculous insecurities, because he kind of realizes that they’re really ridiculous - but, he also can’t ever seem to really shake them. but, nonetheless, he had finished his own shots after a good while. 

there was a few other things needed to be done, but truth be told, he was just glad to be done with most of the shooting, nonetheless. 

#famedscheduleq422 #☆ ⠀ ── self para ⠀ !

[magnusthefish]

kit, with a lush bag: listen, i know we don't get along with each other but i got you a bath bomb for your birthday, so whenever you're feeling stressed and you need a bath, just fill your bathtub with water and drop this in. i guarantee all your worries will be over

zara, opening the bag: this is a toaster

#ALKSDJFAJSKDH WHY DO I MAKE MYSELF LAUGH #earlier today i saw a bottle of bleach and accidentally said damn i thought i was a snack but here's the REAL snack #i jest i jest #today was pretty good actually! #my group of gay friends is growing #someone greeted me by walking up to me while t posing #i accidentally made a thicc joke and someone i barely know started laughing #i ate like three cookies #big ones too #it's goin great #honestly famous last words but #oh yea i just failed a physics exam ahahhahaha #we get the results back in a week big oof #rip me #kit herondale #kit rook #zara dearborn #zara dearbitch #kit vs zara #is that a tag?? it is now #tsc #tda

[goldenpogue]

L-O-V-E

Drew Starkey x Reader (Inspired from L-o-v-e by Nat King Cole)

warning: spoiler for avengers: endgame(I feel like its been out long enough for spoilers not to matter but still), slightly suggestive 

Author’s note: This could have been way better if I hadn’t slipped up and deleted my first one smh. Anyway I hope you enjoy my first(technically second) writing. Sorry for any typos.

——————————————————————————————————

(This gif lowkey fits one of the parts)

L is for the way you look at me

“Drew, you’re supposed to be enjoying the view.” You whined, while pointing to the skyline of Paris in the sunset. You look at Drew unamused as he goes back inside the hotel to grab his camera. Walking back onto the balcony, he smiles and aims the camera up at you.

“You are my view, beautiful. Now, smile.” You blush at his comment and pose. He snaps the picture and walks closer to show you. Looking at the picture, you grin and look back up at the sunset. Drew wraps his arms around you as you take in the beautiful horizon. You relax in his arms and sigh, “It’s nice being here with you, we should do this more often.”

Drew didn’t say anything but the admiration in his eyes as he looked down at you said more than enough.

O is for the only one I see

You and Drew had just arrived at the afterparty for outerbanks’ newest season. After greeting everyone, you made your way to the kitchen. While browsing the different drinks, you heard someone say your name. You look up to see a somewhat familiar face. “Hey, you enjoying the party?” The guy asked.

“Well, I just got here but it’s great so far.” You let out an awkward chuckle. You didn’t really know much about him. Only ever seeing him hanging around set, apparently he’s the son of one of the staff members. “Yeah, its pretty nice.” He nodded in agreement.

“So, uh- are you really dating that guy Drew?” He smirked slyly as he stepped closer to you. You looked at him confused. Confused as to why he would all of the sudden ask such a question. What was he hinting at? Everyone knew that you and Drew were a couple, it wasn’t a secret. “Yeah, Why are you asking that?” 

“Because I know I could treat you better than him.” He stepped even closer, closing the gap that was left between you. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous he sounded but all you could do was scoff. You looked at your boyfriend, who was clearly pissed about the situation playing out in front of him. You turned back to the guy to see him still smirking at you. You scoffed once more and grumbled an “as if” his way before walking over to Drew. You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled, “You know you’re the only one I have my eyes on, right?” He just nods in response and softly smiles back.

V is very, very extraordinary

The first time you met Drew, you knew it was love at first site. It was a damp, autumn day and you had just gotten done with developing the film from your camera. It had just stopped raining so you decided to make your way to a nearby cafe. On your way, you bumped into a stranger and dropped your photographs.  As you were picking them up, a tall brunette walked up to help. Luckily most of the photos didn’t mess up but that was the last thing on your mind. You couldn’t help but to admire the man in front of you. You almost got lost in his ocean blue eyes. “T-thank you.” You smiled, taking the photos remaining photos from him.. 

“No problem, people don’t like to pay attention to where they walk these days.” He gestured towards the stranger that is now almost out of site. “By the way are you okay?” He asked, looking at you as if to check for any distress or discomfort. “yeah, I’m good. I guess they were in a hurry, though.” You both laugh at your sarcastic remark.  

“So, what kind of photography do you do?” He curiously looks at the photos in your hand. You start to fiddle with them, “Um, you know. All kind but mostly nature. I have more in my bag if you’d like to see some?” He agreed and after a long talk about photography, you decided to invite him to come to the cafe with you to repay him for his kindness. He obliged at first but eventually gave in.

“Wait, let me guess. You’re a hot chocolate with whipped cream type of girl, yeah?” You playfully gasped at his comment. He chuckled at your reaction, “Well, am I right?” He smirks confidently. You nod, “Yeah, how did you know.” He shrugs in response, “You just have that vibe, I guess.” 

Once you had gotten your drinks, you decided to sit at the table right outside the cafe. You learned that you both had a lot in common. He gave you his number and the rest is history. You’d think after dating someone for so many years, you’d get bored of them or argue a lot but you and Drew are intangible. Some people say it’s weird and unhealthy that you don’t argue. And when you do argue it doesn’t last long. The truth is it’s not weird and it’s not unhealthy. You and Drew just aren’t an ordinary couple. 

E is even more than anyone that adores you can

You and Drew recently watched a MCU marathon and ever since you’ve been gushing over Chris Evans. You even got a Captain America t-shirt. It would be an understatement to say Drew was jealous but he didn’t show it. Not until, he heard you talking on the phone with your friend. “ He is so hot. Like why did he have to go back into the time machine. I feel betrayed but then again, that just shows how much he adores the woman he loves. I wish I could have him as a boyfriend.” 

Drew walks up and takes the phone from you, telling your friend you’ll call back before hanging it up. You looked up at him shocked. “Do you like Chris evans more than you me? You’d rather have him as a boyfriend, seriously?” He stares at you waiting for a response. You break the silence with your laughter, “Its called a celebrity crush, Drew. It’s not that deep.” 

“I should be your celebrity crush.” He leans over, placing his hands on each side of you. You grab his chain swinging from his neck to pull him closer, “Are you jealous, baby?” You smirk up at him. He rolls his eyes and leans in to kiss you. You giggle at his neediness and wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. Your hands make their way to the hem of his shirt and you pull it off, tossing it on the floor. 

“Come on,” He picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, “I don’t have a time machine but I can show you how much I adore you in the bedroom.” 

———————————————————————

Thank you for reading, I hope it’s not too cliche or corny. And I know the last one doesn’t necessarily match the meaning of the lyrics but roll with it. Opinions/criticism is welcome. By the way, I may not do these regularly. It is more so just for fun. Anywho, bye!

#drew starkey #outer banks #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew x reader #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey x black reader #drew starkey x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rudy pankow

[snackhobi]

pairing: jimin x reader / word count: 9.1k / genre: smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost. 

but there’s only so much you can resist park jimin, especially once he gets that peach involved.

warnings: sexually explicit content, Jimin being completely shameless/a lowkey ho, messy peach eating, mentions of masturbation, oral sex (m + f receiving), overstimulation, protected sex, multiple orgasms (f), dirty talk and some cursing, hmm I think that’s it?

a/n: I was so close to calling this ‘jimin and the f*cking peach’ as some terrible homage to ‘james and the giant peach’ 😂🤧 as always I would like to thank @hobi-gif for beta reading this, putting up with me having a meltdown at her, and encouraging me to write smut at work rather than doing my job, ty queen xoxo

--

It’s official. Park Jimin is the neighbour from hell.

He’d tricked you, to start with. With those cherubic features, those doe eyes, and his cute little smile? He looks like an angel. A sweet, innocent angel, one who’d knocked shyly on your door and presented you with a small selection of chocolates when he’d moved into the apartment next to yours. Your heart had gone boom boom at the sight of that cute smile, the slip of teeth, the way his lovely face had scrunched up. 

Nowadays, whenever you see that face, you want to punch it.

Well. Not punch it. Maybe slap it a little. Because Park Jimin is a fiend. 

Your studio apartment is cheap for many reasons. The plumbing is creaky and the heating isn’t exactly great but those are small sacrifices for such low rent—ones you’re willing to make. Creaking doesn’t bother you and throw blankets exist for a reason, right? You get a balcony and a parking spot, which is more than you can say for a lot of other places in this price range, so you’ll take the negatives for these positives.

But you’d give up all the things you love about this cheap flat for some sound proofing.

Because Park Jimin fucks. 

A lot. 

He’d been nothing but lovely for the first few weeks. You’d barely been aware of his existence, minus when you could hear him in the bathroom—your flats are mirrored, rooms sharing walls, so you’d been washing your face when you’d heard his shower start up and then the sound of his dulcet tones drifting through the wall. That had actually been really nice; Jimin can hit some high notes, and it had been a pleasant backdrop as you’d cleansed your face. It had been another bullet point you’d added to the list of things you thought were cute about him (along with his face, his laugh, his smile), and you’d stupidly started to develop a tiny little crush on this boy-next-door, thinking him some soft, kind thing.

But then he’d started to have people over.

You’ve lost count of how many days you’ve had to listen to the moans and gasps that echo through your walls. You can’t escape from it. As a freelance programmer, you’re pretty much always working from home, so it’s not like you can get away from the sounds of pleasure that shudder through Jimin’s flat and into your own.

It’s never consistent, either. There’s not a single hour of the day that’s off limits to Park Jimin. Morning, afternoon, night; the boy is always ready to go, apparently. And judging from the sounds through the walls? He never leaves anyone unsatisfied either.

Which, like, fine. People fuck. You get it. You’re not judging. You just wish it wasn’t so loud. You have to sleep, for God’s sake. But it’s not like you can knock on a new neighbour’s door and be like hey, I appreciate you have an incredibly active sex life, but can you keep it down, please?

So you’d bit your tongue. You’d gritted your teeth to bear it. You’d still smile at Jimin if you ever passed in the hallway, acknowledged him with a small nod, exchanged pleasantries, all the neighbourly stuff that you’d do with anyone. You’d just invested in some good earplugs and thought that was it.

And then Jimin had started doing his morning yoga routine outside. 

You start each day with a cup of tea on your balcony, watering your hydrangeas and enjoying the dawn sun that lifts up over the horizon alongside your plants. It’s a small, singular moment of quiet in an otherwise dull day and you treasure that serenity.

Well. Treasured. Past tense. Because Jimin has invaded this part of your life, too.

The first time Jimin had unrolled his yoga mat on the balcony adjacent to yours, he’d been dressed in a deceptively unassuming outfit—a loose white t-shirt and leggings that hugged every inch of his calves and thighs and shapely ass, which you had pointedly Not Looked At. He’d tilted his head at you with a smug little smile flickering at the edge of his lips, and when he’d greeted you good morning, you’d responded in turn, even if you were still annoyed at how he’d interrupted your afternoon nap the day before with the sound of his headboard smacking into the wall repeatedly. You were still fairly new neighbours and you still felt like you had to be polite, even if he was starting to fray your nerves.

And then he’d started to bend. 

Now, you’ll be the first to admit that you don’t know much about yoga. But you’d swear Jimin was choosing poses that did the utmost to display his flexibility, the flex of his muscles and twist of his limbs, balancing his body on his arms before easing into a pose that had him bent in two, head towards his toes—and with how he had his back to you this meant you got full glimpse of his ass, straining against his leggings, the way his loose shirt slipped up his body to reveal the lines of his stomach and chest, how his face was still twisted into that little smirk even if it was upside down.

Staring at you.

You’d promptly stopped watering your hydrangeas and walked inside your flat, shutting the sliding door behind you.

Jimin is relentless.

He’s pretty and he knows it. All that shy, new-kid-on-the-block innocence he’d had initially is completely gone, and all he does is flirt, flirt, flirt. He winks at you. Stands a little too close whenever you talk. Lets his eyes flicker down to your lips, trail over every inch of you, lashes fluttering when he catches you watching, unashamed and unabashed. He frequently just… hangs around on his balcony. Not topless, no, but he may as well be, his thotty muscle tees doing nothing to hide him from your eyes.

(The worst thing, though, is when you catch him unawares. When he’s tired and clearly not expecting you to be awake, too, his eyes sleepy and his hair ruffled; a little vulnerable, a lot softer than he usually presents himself. Curled up on the small seat on his balcony with a hot drink in his hand, phone in the other, his screen throwing blue-tinted light over the easing lines of his features.

You wish Jimin was like that all the time. But the second he sees you, his eyes flicker, and his brows lift, and his mouth curls, and once again you rue the day you had a fuckboy move in next door to you.)

It’s not that Jimin isn’t hot. It’s not that you wouldn’t fuck him, either. But you have no interest in being some sort of convenient hook-up for him, purely there by circumstance, fate, whatever you want to call it. You dread to think of him sending you haha wyd x texts whenever he feels like having sex and you just happen to be nearby. So you weather all of his obvious come-ons and swerve him something chronic, even if he seems intent on making his attraction to you obvious.

You’ve been managing it for months. But as time goes on, your patience wears thinner and thinner, an atom-thick layer of fortitude the only thing keeping you from grabbing Park Jimin and kissing him and/or killing him. It doesn’t help that you haven’t fucked for a while now, and you’re reminded of this every time you hear another pornstar moan through the wall (the people Jimin brings home seem to like hamming it up for effect), every time you see another mosaic of hickeys laid across the column of Jimin’s gorgeous throat, every time you see the way his yoga outfits do nothing to protect the delicious shape of his body from your eyes.

You dig your fingers into your palms. It’s fine. It’s okay. You can handle Park Jimin and his overt sexual energy, oozing out of him almost every second of every day.

It’s a little harder to handle how he still seems sweet despite his fuckboy nature. How he picks your parcels up for you. How he lets you use his laundry detergent when you run out. How he lets you keep food in his fridge when yours breaks down and you have to wait for a replacement. How he sheds that fuckboy facade whenever it seems like you genuinely need help, how you’ve heard his soft phone calls through the wall, to his friends, his family, sweet and kind and supportive.

Park Jimin is a multi-dimensional being, for sure, and maybe you sometimes wish he was actually genuinely interested in you as a person and not as a lay, so you could peel back those layers to the lovely core at the centre of his being.

But it’s fine. You can handle this stupid yearning and pining. You can handle the knowledge that Park Jimin is a genuine gentleman who just happens to like fucking, is open in his desire for it, and is apparently Very Good at it. It’s difficult, but you can do it.

You can do it.

The date you set up with someone from Tinder ends up being disappointing and lacklustre. You’d escaped before dessert, unable to put up with one more second of this asshole going on and on about stocks, and investments, and trading, or whatever, cursing the day you’d decided to swipe on him. You’re so sick of your luck (or lack thereof) with guys. (At least the food had been nice.)

Of course Jimin sees you schlepping your way back into your apartment, disappointment obvious in the line of your shoulders and lips; it doesn’t take a genius to clock your date outfit, cute as it is, makeup and hair soft. But the night has barely begun and here you are, stepping back into your flat. Alone. 

“Bad date?” Jimin asks, voice gentle, and you just snort.

“Just like the rest of them,” you reply with a small sigh, before shutting your door quietly behind you, missing the look on your neighbour’s face.

Jimin, to his credit, eases off after this. You’re not sure if it’s due to a misplaced sense of pity or something, but even if he still smiles and flirts lightly with you, it’s less… salacious. Still there, still obvious, just a little softer. You hate how this has you feeling grateful towards him, because he’s still got so many fuckboy tendencies that it should outweigh this gentler side of his flirtation, but your traitorous heart still goes gooey every time Jimin smiles at you.

But then. 

But then.

There’s that fucking peach.

You’re just chilling on your balcony, sipping at a glass of lemonade in the warmth of the afternoon when you hear Jimin’s door sliding open. You flick your eyes over at the sound, watching the way Jimin slips out onto his own balcony, how he throws something up in the air and catches it with ease, a flick of the wrist, a curl of the fingers each time he catches it again.

He hasn’t had any fuckbuddies over for a while. A few weeks, almost a month. It’s the longest Jimin’s gone without having sex for as long as he’s started having people over and you’d been sort of concerned. Which, yeah, you know it sounds super weird when you think about it, especially considering how much you complain about Jimin to your friends—help, my fuckboy neighbour hasn’t fucked anyone in nearly a month so I’m worried if his dick has fallen off or something.

(Well, actually, you know his dick is still attached, based off the little gasps and moans he lets out whenever he pleasures himself in lieu of fucking someone else. You’ll take this secret to the grave but those noises that Jimin lets out have been the melody you use to reach your own peaks, although you’re a lot quieter than he is whenever you touch yourself, biting your lip and muffling the wet sounds of your fingers thrusting into your cunt under layers of blankets. You’d never give Jimin the satisfaction of knowing that the mental image of him fucking into his fist and cumming over his stomach and chest is what throws you over your own edge, toe-curling orgasms that shake through your body in time with Jimin’s own.)

Anyway. He looks loose limbed and relaxed when he saunters into view, utterly unsurprised by your presence behind your window box of hydrangeas, giving you his usual, sultry smile. 

He’s started to ramp up his flirtations again. This smirk is one which you’ve learned not to respond to. You just stare levelly back at him, unimpressed as you start to water your flowers, which does nothing to dissuade him. It never does. He clearly revels in the challenge.

Jimin keeps his eyes locked with yours as he lifts his hand to his lips. You catch a glimpse of what he was throwing and catching—a ripe, flush peach, tiny droplets of water shimmering on its fuzz, freshly washed.

And then he starts to eat it.

The peach yields immediately to the press of his teeth. Juice bursts out of its softness, running down his lips, his chin; he makes no moves to wipe it away, the lewd sound of his slurps as he curls his tongue into the fruit, messy and sweet.

It’s shameless. He’s shameless. His gaze is unwavering as he stares at you, his mouth glistening with the peach’s juices, the only sound the wet smack of his lips and tongue as he licks up the honeyed liquid that drips from his skin, curving around the fruit as he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing.

Water’s been trickling from your small can onto the hydrangeas, cascading over the plants; the soil is waterlogged now, but you haven’t noticed, fixated on the way Jimin is looking at you as he wantonly eats out this peach.

Drip drip, goes the watering can.

Drip drip, goes the peach.

By the time there’s nothing more than the pit in his hand, Jimin is a mess. His fingers and mouth and chin shine with peach juice, eyes dark and heavy as he watches the way you drink the sight of him in, the way his tongue slowly drags over his full lips, catching the sweetness that lingers.

The second he puts his tongue to his fingers to get the stickiness on them, that’s it. You watch the way he sucks his fingers into his mouth and promptly put the watering can down and turn on your heel to walk inside, slamming the balcony door shut behind you.

You’re done. You’re only human. You’ve spent months with Jimin parading himself in front of you, seen the way he contorts his body every morning in an unnecessarily complex sun salutation, listened to the way his voice rises when he cums; the peach is the metaphorical cherry on top, and you’re just. Over. It. 

You hammer your palms against your neighbour's door, rap-rap-rapping on the wood, your blood rising and your heart thudding in your chest, every part of you tense, wound up, pent up. The door swings open to reveal Jimin, his chin still slick with sweet peach, lips curling up in a self-satisfied smile when he sees you.

“Park Jimin.” Your voice shakes and you hate yourself for it, hate the way Jimin’s eyes glitter at the sound, the little hitch in your breath. “You are a fucking menace, you know that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. He leans against the doorframe, effortlessly gorgeous, hip cocked, head tilted. He lifts his hand, and there’s a heavy moment of tension as you watch him slowly swipe a thumb over the last remnant of juice on his chin, before his tongue lolls out of his mouth and he licks the final taste of peach from his fingers.

When you grab hold of his collar his expression shifts from something coy into something far more self satisfied, months of his brazen come-ons finally culminating in this—you, shoving him backwards into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind you.

“I swear,” you say. “I swear to God—”

“You swear? I can think of better things you could be doing with your mouth,” Jimin says, and then laughs when you scowl at him. “Damn, you’re so hot when you’re mad.”

“You are infuriating,” you bite out, and Jimin just laughs again, his whole body shaking, every part of him still loose and relaxed even as you continue to tighten your grip on his clothing, feeling every motion of his body under your hands. You hate how pretty he is, even now, utterly unafraid of your frustration—the brightness of his eyes and his smile, that undercurrent to it all, the way his hands slide so smoothly around your waist, your hips, sliding down to grope at your ass.

“I know,” he agrees, still giggling, and then he kisses you.

Jimin dives straight in, no holds barred, and you immediately melt into putty under his touch. He lets out a hum of satisfaction into your mouth as your hands go lax and slide down his chest. You can still taste the peach on his lips, his tongue, licking into his mouth.

You’ve thought about this mouth more times than you’d like to admit: the full swell of his lips, the little curve of his cupid’s bow, how it’d feel pressed against your own, and honestly? It’s so much better than you’d let yourself imagine it to be.

He nips at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue, and you bite off a gasp when he pulls you forward, grinding against you. You shudder. Jimin’s mouth is a pleased curve against your own before he pulls away, murmuring in your ear in a voice that’s equal parts sultry and sweet.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, kissing the sensitive skin of your jaw just under your earlobe, making you shiver. “Just relax. You’re always so tense.”

“Maybe that’s because my neighbour keeps me up all night,” you say, but your voice is weak, no strength behind your words, breath stolen out of you at the way Jimin starts to trail his lips down your neck, across your throat. “I find that constantly getting my sleep interrupted—oh, oh—”

Jimin sucks at the hollow of your neck, the delicate skin there so sensitive to his touch, the warmth of his lips magnified, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Your hands have slid into his hair and you unintentionally tighten your grasp, fingers tugging at his dark locks, and Jimin bares his teeth against your skin.

It’s maybe a little embarrassing how wet you are just from a little making out. But after months of Jimin teasing you and putting you on edge, coupled with how long it’s been since you've had sex? You’re allowed to be a little desperate. All the small frustrations you were about to voice die on your tongue, slipping away from you as Jimin starts to walk you backwards with a confidence that shows just how often he’s done this—leading people to his bed, never taking his hands off you.

By the time Jimin eases you to lie down, you feel breathless. He hovers above you with that satisfied smile flickering at the edge of his lips, taking in the sight of you, finally underneath him—lips kiss swollen, exquisite, all the sharp words on your tongue softened and gone, goosebumps trailing down your skin. You tug at his collar, which catches him off guard; he sways forward and almost hits his face against yours, but before he can spend too long looking smug at your desperation you capture his lips again. You melt into the mattress, hooking a foot over his calf and revelling in the weight of him between your legs, your hips flush, and how hard he’s getting through those stupidly tight leggings of his.

When he grinds against you, the outline of his cock pressed up against your cunt, an embarrassing whine leaves your lips and trembles against Jimin’s own. Jimin goes still before pulling away from the open-mouthed kiss and when you see the expression on his face you slap a hand over your mouth, burning with shame.

“Oh.” He sounds delighted. “You’re noisy, huh?”

“Shut up,” you say, though your words are muffled against your palm. He grinds down again, a slow and deep roll of his hips that lets you feel how hard he is, and a noise shudders out the back of your throat, audible around your hand.

“It’s hot.” There’s that little smirk on Jimin’s lovely lips, every inch of him dripping self confidence. He knows how you’re entirely at his mercy, in spite of your words; your voice is weak. “You’re normally so quiet.”

“Some of us try to be considerate and think about our neighbours.”

Jimin just smiles, pulling your hand away from your mouth before gently kissing your palm, a motion that’s surprisingly tender and makes you pause. 

“Trust me.” His voice is low. “I do think about my neighbour.”

Your breath hitches when he slides his free hand under your shirt, trailing his fingers over the softness of your stomach. He pulls the fabric up, letting his gaze rove over the bared skin. The way Jimin looks at you makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world, like he’s never seen anyone prettier.

You wonder if he looks at his other fuckbuddies like this.

The thought slides away from you as Jimin dips his head and starts to kiss your throat again. You tilt your head back as his lips trail across the soft skin, his hands coming to rest under your breasts, contained as they are by your bra; once he coaxes you to sit up, it only takes him a few moments to strip your upper body, kneeling between your spread legs as he starts to trail his hands over the parts of you that are now bared to him.

“Pretty,” he says. You’d roll your eyes if he didn’t sound so reverent, and also if you weren’t distracted by the way he flicks his thumbs over your hardening nipples, your core clenching as he does, biting your lip to stop yourself from making a sound. A frown flits across Jimin’s face and he lifts one of those thumbs away from your breast, dragging your lip away from your teeth, letting his grasp linger so your lips are parted. “Don’t do that. I've been waiting for months to hear you properly.”

Before you can reply, he kisses you again, licking into your mouth and swallowing down the noise you make when he drags his hand between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and settling between your legs, running his fingers over your cunt, the feeling dulled by layers of fabric even though he presses with intent. Your hips jolt at the sensation, and Jimin repeats the motion, dragging the fabric across your flushed lips.

“Jimin.” Your voice is a gasp against his mouth, and you can’t keep the pleading out of your tone, desperation bleeding into every letter of your words. “Please.”

He just hums, sounding pleased, and a breath of surprise escapes you as he pushes you back against the pillows. He wastes no time in getting to his prize, drawing a scattered constellation of kisses that trail across your chest, your nipples, your stomach, the line of your hip bones as you lift up so he can pull your shorts and underwear off. You’re entirely naked underneath him, bare and wet, cunt flushed and shining, and Jimin groans at the sight.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, fingers digging into your thighs as he pulls your legs wider. Your cheeks burn as Jimin stares at your pussy, but you can’t help but feel a pulse of self-satisfaction at the visible twitch of his cock in his stupid yoga leggings. “You’re so wet.”

You should probably feel embarrassed, but by now you’ve thrown all your previous inhibition to the winds. You’ve ended up somewhere you’d privately sworn you were never going to—in Park Jimin’s bed, leaned up against his pillows, laid out for him to touch and take and have, every inch of you desperate for it. There’s nothing in your brain or body but arousal and need. So instead of letting out a snip of a remark you just cant your hips towards him, another pleading sound slipping from your lips.

He gives you what you want. He dips his head and trails his lips and tongue down, down, down, wet and hot, until they press against your cunt. He looks at you with the same hooded eyes as earlier, motions of his mouth an echo of his peach eating, sloppy and messy; he’s unabashed in the way he slides his mouth over you, lips slick and tongue hot, sliding over every sensitive inch—sucking your clit, licking your folds, burying his face between your legs and drinking up every sweet drip of your juices. 

You can’t help but make noise. Small gasps that slide into moans of pleasure, hitches in your breath that make your chest jump and your breasts shake; Jimin lets out noises too, muffled against your cunt, sounds that let you know he’s enjoying himself almost as much as you. It’s honestly pretty fucking hot, the way your own pleasure seems to turn him on, how he chases that feeling, eyes blown as he takes in every one of your reactions, repeating the motions that are affecting you the most.

The sight of him between your legs has you tensing. He continues to stare up at you, the curve of your stomach when you bow towards him, the fall of your breasts, which he slides his hands over, cupping them in his palms, pinching your hardened buds, layering sensation on sensation, never taking his mouth off you.

When he presses one finger inside, and then another, both thrusting firm and deep as he mouths at your clit, you tangle a hand into his hair. He watches the way your hips jump from the sensation of his tongue directly on your clit, and does it again, and again, your voice crescendoing from the explosion of sensation, how it’s too much, before he circles his lips around it and sucks messily. Your brain registering nothing but his lips and tongue against you, the hands that are trailing up and down your sides and still skimming across your breasts.

You’re not even aware of the words that are falling from your lips, oh fuck, yes, Jimin, there, oh, the way your grasp tightens in his dark hair, your hips bucking against his mouth as you can feel your orgasm approaching. The pleasure keeps building, flames fanning brighter and brighter as Jimin buries his mouth even further in between your legs, fingers speeding up as you gasp.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you chant, voice getting higher. “I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming, oh—”

Your words slide into a moan as your back arches and your thighs tighten around Jimin’s head and you cum. Jimin continues to finger fuck you through it, your cunt pulsating around him as he keeps licking and sucking at your clit, his gaze fixed on your face as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth falls open and every line of your body sings of the pleasure that Jimin has given to you. Even when your legs and hips start to jolt from oversensitivity and you cry out at each ripple of his tongue against you, he’s relentless, almost cruel in how he watches you writhe from a mixture of pain and overextended pleasure.

You're sobbing by the time Jimin pulls his mouth away from your cunt, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, body shaking as you try to suck in air. He thrusts his fingers into you one more time, slow and deep, watching the way you turn your head into the pillow and muffle a gasp against it. 

“I knew you'd look and sound gorgeous when you cum,” he says, and though you feel boneless from your post-orgasm high, you can’t help a little huff escaping your lips. Jimin clearly catches the sound, quiet as it is against the linen of his pillowcase, and takes your chin in his hand to turn his face towards you. His fingers are slick with your arousal, wet against your skin.

“You sound like you’re reading off the script to a porno,” you murmur.

One of his eyebrows arches. “Oh? You don’t think I’m just speaking my mind?” Those fingers move away from your chin and trace over the swell of your bottom lip; you let your mouth fall open and swallow them down, licking the taste of yourself off Jimin’s skin. “You don’t think that I’ve been thinking about how pretty you’d look as I fucked into you, begging for me to let you cum again and again?”

Your tongue stutters against his fingers and your core clenches at his words, the dark undercurrent underneath them, and Jimin’s expression shifts as he notices.

“You really have no idea, do you?” He runs his fingertips over your tastebuds, saliva starting to pool in your mouth, the slide so wet and messy. “Who do you think I picture whenever I touch myself? Who do you think I was wishing was in my bed every time I took someone else home?”

You nip at his fingers, running the edge of your teeth along his knuckles from equal parts surprise and disbelief at his words. You find it impossible to believe that he really means that, but then you realise—recently, on the few occasions you’d bumped into Jimin in the hall when he’d had one of his lays trailing behind him, for as different and unique each of them was, each one of them had shared some sort of trait with you. Hair colour, eyes, the set of their lips, the shape of their face; once, you’d heard a girl giggling through the wall before it had trailed off into a moan, and you’d done a literal double take at how much she’d sounded like you. Similar, but not exactly the same, a slightly off-tone echo of the sound that spills from your own lips whenever you laugh.

And the emptiness in his bed had only started after the night that he’d seen the way you’d trailed into your apartment with discontent heavy around your shoulders, disappointed at that awful Tinder date.

Oh, fuck.

“You’re shameless,” you say, words a little garbled around Jimin’s fingers, but you know he understands.

“No, I’m not,” he replies, a small smirk curling up the corner of his lips. It should be illegal: the way he has such soft features that can turn so quickly into something sharper and entirely sensual, eyes hooded, lips flushed, the column of his throat so lovely and graceful as he tilts his head to one side. “I just know what I want and don’t try to hide it. What’s shameless about that? I know you want me too, but you always deny yourself the things you want. Don’t you?”

You hate that you’ve been so transparent in your attraction to him. Because the truth of the matter is that for as much as Jimin frustrates you with his entire existence, you do want him. After all—you wouldn’t be naked underneath him, still trembling from the aftershocks of a deep orgasm, if you didn’t.

“You’re not always as quiet as you think, you know,” he adds, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and enjoying the way your eyes widen at his words. You thought he couldn’t hear you through the wall, but it seems like you were wrong.

Before you can say anything in reply, though, he grinds down. Without your clothes in the way you can feel the drag of his yoga pants against your cunt, how the wetness of your cum and Jimin’s spit soaks into the fabric, his hard cock hot, and you let out a whine. He still has yet to remove any of his clothes and you want to  see them off so he’s finally naked. You’ve seen enough of his bare skin over the months to have a pretty good idea of what that looks like, but you want to see the real thing.

Jimin seems just as eager to shed his clothes, yielding to your grasping hands and carelessly throwing his top aside; you end up straddling his waist and kissing down his chest in an imitation of his motions earlier, letting your fingers trail over the lean muscle from his yoga and dance. When you tongue at one of his nipples and he gasps, you feel euphoric. He’s unfairly beautiful, from the lovely collarbones to the flex of his shoulders and arms and the line of his chest and stomach, delicate and somehow entirely masculine. You still sort of want to slap him, but settle with kissing the hollow of his neck instead, digging your fingers into his ribs as you roll your hips down against him.

His own hips buck up. You can tell that he’s desperate to be inside you, but you want to taste him first. 

When you slide down his body and settle between his legs, you hook your fingers into the tight waistband of those stupid leggings and tug them down. Jimin hisses through his teeth as you let the material settle just under his hips, baring the top of his briefs to you, how his cock strains against them, the patch of wetness at the head, darkening the fabric.

You don’t strip him. Not completely. You just hook your fingers into those dark blue briefs and pull them down just enough to reveal the flushed head of his cock, wet with precum. You let your tongue flick out to catch that salty bitterness, and Jimin bites off a curse at the almost shy licks you start to lave across his slit, circling around the weeping head.

Hearing Jimin’s gasps without the wall in the way is honestly an experience. Before, whenever he had people over, they usually drowned him out, theatrical wails and groans overpowering his far more natural noises, but now there’s nothing to prevent you from hearing the way his breath hitches in his throat or the way he moans. Even the smallest things have him letting slip sounds, a noise escaping him as you coax him to lift his hips so you can finally, finally peel those leggings and briefs off, dragging over the hardness of his cock as you do. You want to take in the sight of him fully naked, give it the proper attention it deserves, but then you feel his cock throb in your hand and you can’t stop yourself from immediately lowering your mouth to it again.

His whole body shudders. You let your jaw fall open as you take him in, tongue curling around him, hands touching every part of him that isn’t in your mouth, making sure there’s no part of  him that isn’t receiving attention. His eyes are wide under the mess of his fringe, hair falling over his forehead as he watches the way you run your lips down the side of his cock before sucking one of his balls into your mouth, circling his length with your hands, a twisting rise and fall in the motion as you drink down the noise of surprised pleasure that drops from his lips.

Jimin’s fingers have been tangled in your hair but he lets you control the flow. The sounds of you swallowing him down into your mouth as you bob your head are obscene, wet and messy, but you can still hear how his voice starts to rise, how his fingers tighten against your scalp, and you know he’s close when he tugs you upwards and drags your lips away from his cock. 

Jimin pulls you towards him and you settle against his chest as you start to kiss again, shivering at the way he rolls his tongue in your mouth. This time when Jimin rolls his hips, there’s nothing between your skin and his, dragging the underside of his cock across your flushed lower lips, the slide between your folds and against your clit making you shiver.

“Condoms?” 

You’re breathless, and Jimin quirks a smile at you.

“Top drawer,” he answers. Of course they would be, in easy reach whenever he needs them. 

You lean forwards to reach for the bedside table and Jimin takes the opportunity to circle a hand around your breast and capture a nipple in his mouth, ignoring the way you bite back a surprised noise, staring up at you with almost innocent eyes as he sucks at your skin in the way he’s worked out that you like best. Your hands are a fumble as you pull a condom out of the pack, ripping the sachet away from the others, a bottle of lube rolling into your grasp. You try to focus on your task and not the sensation of Jimin switching attention to your other breast, cupping the swell of flesh in his hand and drawing his teeth gently across your skin.

“You’re insatiable,” you mutter, and Jimin laughs before he kisses between your breasts. 

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you since we first met,” he says, utterly unrepentant. “I don't want to take my mouth off you.”

“Insatiable,” you repeat, but you’re flustered. Even if you know he’s not lying, and you’re naked and straddling his hips, the taste of his lips and cock now familiar on your tongue, it’s… kind of incredible to think that the gorgeous Park Jimin has been lusting after you for that long. 

Or lusting after you at all, really.

But as you tear the foil of the condom, the look he levels at you is burning with desire, roaming over you, every inch of your nakedness, every movement of your body. His hands rest at your waist, thumbs rubbing over your skin as you hold his cock in one hand and roll the condom down with the other, letting your fingers circle his length, dragging your touch over the heat of him and revelling in the way he twitches. As much as you’ve thought of Jimin as a fuckboy, you know that he wouldn’t lie just to get someone in his bed, so as unbelievable as his words are, every single one of his actions backs up what he’s said: he wants you.

You don't notice how soft his gaze is as you take time to warm the lube in your hands, even though you’re desperate to feel him finally slide home. You've always been so considerate, even when he knows you've been frustrated at him, and that's evident now, in this small thing.

You spread the warmed lube over his covered cock, pumping it in your hand to get him slick and ready, loving the way he hisses though his teeth. He has to stop his hips from bucking up as you line his cockhead up with your entrance, his fingers digging into your sides as you hover in place.

“Come on,” Jimin urges. “Give it to me.”

“Insatiable,” you repeat, one last time, then you bend your knees.

You finally ease yourself down and onto his cock. You both let out moans; Jimin, finally feeling the wet heat of you around him, and you, falling into the sensation of him stretching you open, snug inside you, slowly splitting you open as you take him in, inch by inch, until you’re sitting on his hips and he’s fully buried in your cunt.

It’s been a while since you’ve had someone inside you. You grind downwards, rolling your hips, biting your lip at the sensation. Jimin’s chest expands as he sucks in a sharp breath, and you roll your hips again, a hand bracing on one of his lovely, thick thighs, the other resting just under his stomach as you lean back and arch your spine. You lift your hips, easy and slow, and then fall, Jimin’s cock dragging and pressing against your inner walls, a gasp shuddering out of your lips at the electric feeling.

Again and again, noises of pleasure drip from your mouth as you ride him, head tilting back at the sensations rippling through your body and across your skin, the apartment full of the sounds of your sex—the moans, the wet thrust of Jimin’s cock into your cunt, the praise that falls from his lips, months of feeling pouring from his lips. How pretty you are, how gorgeous, how well you’re taking his cock, how wet and tight you are around him; all the things he’s been thinking about, come to life, his hips snapping into yours as a sharp cry cuts through your lips at the sudden change of pace.

The pleasure’s been steadily building between your legs again, warm and unrushed, but then Jimin flips you without warning, fluid and graceful. Your eyes are wide as you end up on your back, Jimin’s hands braced either side of your head as he looks down at you with those dark, dark eyes of his. He thrusts forwards and your hands fly up to grab at him, your entire body shifting up the mattress at the force of his movements. His eyebrows are drawn together as he starts to drive himself into you, unapologetic in how aggressive he’s being, each thrust pushing the air out of your lungs in harried little gasps that shake the air between you.

The sound of his headboard slamming into the wall, a noise that’s been haunting you each time you’ve been trying to sleep or relax, is one you don’t even register. All you can think about is Jimin, Jimin, Jimin, caught up in the way there’s sweat beading across his forehead, strands of his dark hair sticking to it, the intense look in his eyes, the way his full lips are parted, small ah-ah-ahs falling from his lips in time with his thrusts, your body tightening around him each time he slides home.

You can’t remember the last time you were fucked this good. Jimin reads the language of your body with ease, knowing exactly when to lean back and trail a hand over your hips, circling his thumb over your swollen clit, the slide over that bundle of nerves messy from the mix of cum and lube and spit that’s laid slick across you. Each fluid roll of his hips is perfectly timed with the press of his thumb, your thighs going tense and your pussy clenching around Jimin’s hot cock as you start to reach another peak of pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby.” Jimin sounds breathless. “Let me see how pretty you are when you cum around my cock.”

Normally dirty talk seems so ham-handed and stuttering, but the words fall out of Jimin’s lips  as natural as breathing, thoughtless. Stirring your arousal even further. He’s gripping your hips, pulling you down each time he presses up, and you circle your fingers around his wrist as his other hand is occupied with rubbing at your most sensitive part, tightening your hold as you feel another orgasm approaching.

“Jimin.” Your voice is a keen. “I'm so close, please, there, right there, theretherethere—”

You can't blame Jimin's other partners for being so noisy. The sound you let out is just as loud, maybe even louder, Jimin continuing to snap his hip forwards as you cum hard, a drawn out moan that crescendos as you pulsate around Jimin's cock, still hard inside you. He watches the way you writhe beneath him, tangling his fingers with yours when you reach for him and swallowing the end of your moan in a surprisingly sweet kiss, his lips gentle against yours as he slows to a stop before you become too sensitive.

Your voice is a quiet murmur against his lips. “How have you not cum yet?”

His eyes squeeze into a smile as he laughs, light and bright, the sound so sweet. “I've got stamina for days, darling,” he says, oozing that trademark arrogance you’ve gotten used to.

You clench as hard as you can around him and feel smug when he bites off a shocked curse, his smug facade broken. You can’t help but laugh at his expression, scandalised at it is, though your giggle cuts into a gasp when he pinches one of your nipples and then soothes it with his thumb. He seems amused by the look on your face and then laughs in turn, the two of you dissolving into laughter that’s edged with pleasure, your motions shifting his length inside you.

When the laughter trails off, Jimin stays smiling down at you. You draw your hands over his body, tracing all that smooth skin, and he touches the back of your hands with gentle fingers. There's a beat of silence but it's not an uncomfortable one, the air light after your shared giggles. It's… really nice. It's nice and soft and sweet, just like the expression on Jimin's face, tender, even if he's still buried inside you.

You feel so empty when he slips out, already missing the thickness of his cock when it seems as though he’s about to coax you to roll onto your front. Your hands are still linked with his and you tighten your fingers, making him pause.

“I want to see your face,” you confess quietly. It’s probably too much to ask of him but you feel like if you’re turned away from each other then you’ll feel like nothing more than a fucktoy. Just another warm body in Jimin’s bed. You don’t want that.

Jimin stares at you, surprise written across his features before his expression softens. 

"Okay, baby," he murmurs indulgently. The small pet name sounds so sweet in his mouth. "We can stay like this."

He lets your hands go so that he can reach for a pillow that ends settled under your ass, tilting your hips up towards him. You’re not as flexible as he is—maybe you should start doing yoga too—but Jimin doesn’t push you far, hitching your legs up and draping your calves over his shoulders, leaning towards you so that the back of your thighs are warm against his chest. He's bent forward, face hovering above yours, so much skin-on-skin contact that your entire body feels warmed by him.

When he slides back in, you can feel the change in angle immediately. The head of his cock brushes over your g-spot and you suck in a sharp breath; Jimin notices, of course, aiming to hit it again, and again.

It feels good, of course. Amazing. But as much as you’d be happy for Jimin to make you cum again, you’d rather see him fall apart. 

You dig your nails into his shoulder blades, turning your head so you can press kisses along the line of his jaw, murmuring into his ear.

“Are you going to let me see you cum?” 

Jimin’s hips stutter as your words curl out of your mouth, warm against his skin. You’ve been picturing Park Jimin’s o-face for an endless amount of weeks and you’re ready to finally see the real thing.

“Cum on me,” you say, and then choke in a sob of air as Jimin responds with a sharp snap of his hips. “I want you to cum on me, Jimin, please.”

Your begging is shameless and you know it. Jimin’s face is so close to yours in this position and you can see how blown his pupils are, how his mouth is flushed from your kisses and how he’s been biting at them, his teeth digging into his lip as he starts to get faster, sloppier in his thrusts. It feels so good to know that you’re making him feel like this, that he’s reaching the peak of his pleasure with his body against yours, inside you, above you; he might have had other people in this position in the past, but right now it’s you who’s making Park Jimin come apart. 

You urge him onwards with large, pleading eyes, rocking down on his cock each time he thrusts forward, begging the whole time. Pleading for him to cum, to give it to you, to cover you. Jimin obviously likes you loud and desperate, and you're more than willing to give him what he wants.

He slips out of you, fumbling with the condom and carelessly tossing it aside before he starts to pump his cock, hungry to reach his peak as he fucks into his fist. You let your legs fall open as you watch the way his body tenses, his brows drawn together and little breaths falling out of his mouth, barely audible over the wet slide of his cock in his hand. You run your hands over your body, across the swell of your breasts, down your stomach, dipping between your legs, trying to look as arousing as possible, anything to throw Jimin over the edge.

"I've imagined you cumming for months," you confess, words thoughtlessly falling from your lips. "On me, inside me, in my mouth—"

Park Jimin’s o-face is just as gorgeous as the rest of him.

You love how noisy he is. He paints your stomach with his cum, ropes of white spattering across the soft skin of your stomach and hips as he rides out his orgasm, moaning as he continues to milk his twitching cock. It’s so fucking hot, honestly, as is the expression on his face when you swipe your fingers through his cum and lift it to your lips, mouth filled with salt and warm.

“Fuck.” He’s breathless, panting. “You’re unbelievable.”

You let out a small scoff, but it’s edged with affection. “Says the man who was ready to fuck me six ways to Sunday,” you say. “If anyone’s the unbelievable one here, it’s you.”

“I can last longer, but you’re just so hot,” Jimin says. You respond by curling your fingers at him, beckoning him towards you, and you end up sharing a series of messy kisses. 

You were, honestly, genuinely angry when you'd stepped into his apartment earlier, even if that irritation had been rounded out with arousal and desire. Now, though, you feel thoroughly boneless and content, loose limbed on Jimin's mattress, his lips and tongue moving against your own.

He leans too far forwards and smears his own cooling cum against his stomach. He doesn’t seem bothered, though. You’re the one who has to coax him to clean up, though with the way he looks at your still naked body, you know he would happily launch straight into a second round of fucking so he can add more cum to the canvas of your skin.

He really is insatiable, apparently, when it comes to you.

Even so, you wonder if Jimin’s going to kick you out now that he’s finally had a taste of you. He doesn't. He keeps you close, your body pressed against his side in a way that feels far more intimate than you would have expected.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin breaks the soft silence.

You’ve been trailing nonsensical patterns over his chest but pause when he says this. “Hm?”

“Are you hungry?” Jimin repeats, and there’s a cheeky smile flickering at the edge of his lips. “I have some more peaches in the fridge, if you’d like one.”

“That peach.” Your voice is an embarrassed hiss and your cheeks burn, but Jimin just laughs, boyish and bright as you slap halfheartedly at him. “That was just unfair. Who eats fruit like that?”

“Someone who’s trying to make it obvious that he’s imagining the peach is his neighbour’s pussy instead.” He’s so brazen. “And it clearly worked, didn’t it?”

It had worked. It's annoyingly effective, actually; thinking about the way Jimin had been staring at you as he tongue fucked that peach has arousal shooting through you, even after being so thoroughly fucked by him.

“Yeah, now you’ve had me,” you say. “What do you plan to do next?”

Jimin goes quiet. You wonder if you’ve misstepped, but then he sweeps his hand down the curve of your spine, goosebumps appearing in the wake of his touch.

“I was planning on asking if you wanted to go out for lunch,” he says, his voice so sweet, miles away from the fuckboy persona he usually puts on. This is the softer Park Jimin that you’ve caught glimpses of when he’s unaware, the side of him you wished he’d show more often—revealed to you, now. “Then, if you said yes, I was going to take you out on a date. If that date went well, then I was going to ask if you’d like to go on another one with me. And then another.”

One thing you know about Park Jimin is this: he doesn’t do dates. Each of his lays are one time affairs, no attachments made, no real connection beyond the physical act of sex. Your heart rate picks up.

“Obviously we’d fuck between dates,” he adds, raising his eyebrows at you in a way that’s so exaggerated that it makes you laugh. Of course. Jimin likes to fuck. “Unless you didn’t want to, but there are only so many peaches I can eat, you know?”

“So if I said I didn't want to fuck, and you ran out of peaches, what would you do?” 

Your question seems casual and light but Jimin isn't stupid. He knows what you're really asking. Is he genuinely interested in something more exclusive, or would you just become another notch in his bedpost if he grew tired of waiting for you to spread your legs again?

"I can always buy more peaches."

You stare at him. He's looking at you levelly, a small smile on his face that's a little cocky but mostly warm. And, well, you know he's already gone without other partners for you, even before he'd gotten you in his bed. Park Jimin is serious about you, it seems. He'll wait.

You mouth at his collarbones, tasting the salt of sweat as you kiss and lick at his skin.

"After lunch, we can go back to my apartment, if you want," you whisper against his throat.

Just because Jimin's willing to wait doesn't mean you're going to force him to, especially as you're still as hungry for him as he is for you. 

His hands squeeze your sides as you end up kissing again. You feel soft and ripe and sweet, easing under the touch of Jimin's hands and mouth.

"I still think you're a fucking menace, though," you add, and Jimin laughs so hard the bed shakes, still utterly unrepentant and entirely yours.

--

taglist: @beyoncesdragon​ 

#btswritingcafe #jimin smut #jimin oneshot #jimin x reader #bts #bts au #bts smut #jimin fanfic #jimin #jimin x oc #bts oneshot #park jimin #jimin imagine #jimin scenario #bts fic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist

[albaedhoe]

when only the two of us exist

pairing : immortals x gn!reader (separate)

summary : places to kiss him and his responses to them.

tag : @anormalguyreader

a/n : this includes zhongli, venti and xiao.

z h o n g l i : hands

admiring and loving the hands of the god you served for centuries (and hopefully more to come) had posed a sort of fondness no mortal love could ever equate to.

they were rough and sturdy in texture; millennia’s spent shaping soil and rock and protecting those who build their life atop it. yet, there was more to it than that meets the human eyes, they were gentle and kind; the way he holds you close, when he strokes your cheeks or massage your scalp.

a shame, really, that nowadays your lover hides his pretty hands underneath those wretched gloves. when he touches you, you can no longer feel his natural warmth nor the crevices of his palms. he knows what he’s doing. though, despite this, you’d like to think that you were the only one worthy of seeing his bare fingers.

behind closed doors, when only you and him exist in this world, you would sometimes tease him by kneeling on one knee and pull his hand towards your face in a light but urging grip. you’d kiss his knuckles, thoughtfully and with adoration.

after your ministration, you close your eyes lightly and would bring the back of his hand onto your forehead, savouring and capturing this moment in your memories like the many others you made with him.

“i would like to spend the rest of my life by your side, if you would allow it, my archon.” you tease him, a sarcastic tone lacing your tongue. he chuckles and plays along. “now, now, darling. we have been through this plenty of times, have we not?”

seconds of a comfortable silence pass and he would slide his hand down to your cheek and tilt your head up to look at him again. his eyes, so amber and bright, filled with love and fondness, you would not think this was the same god known as the god of war and commerce.

even if he were to have no title to his name, you would still serve and love him the very same.

v e n t i : hair

though you are aware that this façade of a form he has taken doesn’t belong to him, but a dear friend, you still find comfort in his unique and trance-inducing ombré locks. they would often glow when he is feeling a burst of emotions, whether that be happiness to anger.

if you squint, ever so slightly, you would often notice the feint luminescence in his hair when talking to you. you wonder how the people of mondstat hasn’t noticed anything yet (perhaps they did, but chose to ignore it).

during the early mornings when the sun has barely appeared in the horizon and late nights after drinking and the moon is at its peak, he would leave his hair unbraided and free. if he allows it, you run your hand through his hair, playing with it, braiding it for him. unsurprisingly, he smells like alcohol, but it has grown to be a scent you recognise as so him.

you would bring his hair to your lips and plant light kisses, your common gesture of greeting him in the mornings and saying goodnight before you drift off in slumber.

often the times where he feigns drowsiness just so that you kiss his hair more. he thinks he is discreet in his act, but you catch on once his hair emanates a soft glow that lights up in your hands. you keep quiet about it.

do not be surprised nor alarmed if you catch wind of a new ballad dedicated to these moments between you and him. of how he knows that other couples do not show their love the way that you do, how he would give up the entire world if it meant you did this with him for the rest of your lives.

“well, if it isn’t my little songbird.” you welcomed him home after a long day of entertaining the public. he collapses into your embrace while you untied his braids, he rests his head onto the crook of your neck. “i’ve been hearing of this new ballad you’ve supposedly made about me, correct?” he only nods, too tired to look into your eyes, but he eventually speaks up, albeit, muffled. “i did it with intentions of making the people of mondstat jealous of you and i, my cecillia.”

x i a o : forehead

if ever someone asks our dear vigilant yaksha about the purple diamond that sits perfectly at the center of his forehead, he would only shrug them off and say it is nothing of their concern. he does not want to admit that he, too, does not know why it is there, only that it has been with him for as long as he could remember. the only thing he does know, however, is that he finds comfort in it when it is the spot you kiss the most when quelling his depressive episodes.

when the karmic debt builds up to the point where it becomes unbearable, it starts affecting his thoughts more so than before. he thinks of scenarios of evil taking over your body and having to kill you. or how he may be the one possessed and forced to watch as his body fights yours until you are nothing but a memory. he imagines you leaving him for being too harsh. he imagines you dying in his arms.

you would often be the one to snap him out of this state. you gently take his hands into your own, interlacing your fingers together so he couldn’t escape from you. you would ask him to breathe with you and focus only on you. he would take your advice, desperate to escape the voices that plague his mind.

he calms down and his breaths were much more stable than before.

you remind him that you are still here, with him. alive and well. you reassure him that you are not going anywhere as everything you would ever want or need is him.

moving towards his forehead, you place a delicate kiss on his purple diamond, instantly eradicating all the corruption within him if only for a moment. you then face him and lean your head against his, eyes meeting.

you frown slightly as you witness the uncertainty and insecurity swirling in his amber hues.

“xiao, i have walked and defended the lands of liyue along side you for several hundred years now. you of all people should know by now that i am more than capable of defending myself.” you sigh softly, your lips only millimetres apart from his own. xiao closes his eyes and relishes in the temporary stop to time around the both of you. he trusts that you will keep your word.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #Xiao x reader #Xiao #alatus #alatus x reader #Zhongli #Zhongli x reader #venti #venti x reader

[just-some-yandere-writer]

it is so okay if you don't want to write this! but i read over your rules like three times ;; it might not be yandere but who knows the definition for me is pretty flexible. also i really hope i do this right ;;;

i wanna make this fun and put it in first person

this sparkly mf (tengen) has been stalking me for a while now and it's getting on my nerves. i don’t think he’s noticed i know and i want to get back at him. can the words for this one be observant and baseball bat?

again it's totally fine if you don't want to write it!

▶ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪʟᴇ . . .

▶ ꜰɪʟᴇ ʟᴏᴀᴅᴇᴅ .

▶ ꜰɪʟᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇ : ᴏʙꜱᴇʀᴠᴀɴᴛ ʙʀᴀᴛ [ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ! ᴛᴇɴɢᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ]

▶ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ , ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ , ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ [ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀᴄᴀʙ ] .

▶  ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ . . . ᴠᴇʀʏ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴊꜰᴄ - ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴜɴ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟᴍᴀᴏ [ ᴍᴏᴅ ᴜᴅᴏɴ ] .

Tengen knows how observant you are .

he ’ s aware on how you notice every single detail , every feature , every gesture of a person .

it makes stalking you all the more harder , but he finds his ways .

walking through the streets , the six foot man hums a chipper song .

his beloved [ Y / n ] is sure to be working in their café today , and that ’ s just exciting !

he can ’ t wait to see you again !

-------------------------------------<*>-------------------------------------

a person sits inside a café , scrolling on their phone .

not many people have been entering the café , but that ’ s fine .

a bell hanging from the entrance rings , signifying that someone has entered .

[ e / c ] eyes look up from their phone , seeing a young man walking straight to them .

` ` nice to see you again , [ Y / n ] . ` `

the young man greets , leaning on the counter .

[ Y / n ] tenses up a bit .

` ` Tengen . . . what would you like to order ? ` `

` ` the usual . ` `

Tengen answers , grinning smugly .

the barista nods sharply and turns around , cutting the conversation short .

-------------------------------------<*>-------------------------------------

Tengen frowns , confused .

why are you acting so cold to him now ?

did you find out about him ?

no , no . . . that can ’ t be the case . . . he made sure to be careful .

` ` you know , i ’ ve been thinking about you a latte . ` `

Tengen flirts .

that ’ s bound to make you laugh .

you only hum as your reply .

-------------------------------------<*>-------------------------------------

occupying themself with the task at hand , [ Y / n ] tries their best to not shake .

beside them , there ’ s an open notepad with a bullet list down .

weapons to have near you :

baseball bat .

knife

glass

keys .

once the barista finishes making the coffee , they turn around and give it to the stalker with a bright smile on their face .

` ` here ’ s your coffee , Tengen ! ` `

the man who was addressed takes the cup , a dark look on his face .

his lips have formed into a frown , while his eyes are swimming with obsession .

the barista nervously swallows .

-------------------------------------<*>-------------------------------------

it ’ s late in the night , and Tengen is walking along the streets .

his face is faster than usual , and a vein pops on his face , showing his anger .

you observant little brat .

he made sure to be careful , but you still found out , and now you ’ re trying to distance yourself from him .

that can ’ t happen .

-------------------------------------<*>-------------------------------------

sitting inside of their room , [ Y / n ] hold a baseball bat close to themself , waiting for your ex - friend ’ s daily arrival .

notes are sprawled across their desk ; notes about self - defense , where to aim , so on and so forth .

someone rings the doorbell  to their house , making the person slightly jump .

taking in a deep breath , they head to the front door and put their hand on the knob , ready to open it .

-------------------------------------<*>-------------------------------------

Tengen sighs in relief as he hears your footsteps approach the door .

so you didn ’ t know .

that ’ s good , that ’ s good .

as the door opens , Tengen strikes his usual pose , saying :

` ` it is i , Tengen Uzui , the god of festivi - ! ` `

before he could finish , though , a bat comes swinging down on his head .

-------------------------------------<*>-------------------------------------

[ Y / n ] swings a bat on Tengen ’ s head right as they open the door .

the male yelps in pain , falling due to the sheer force of the hit .

not even a second passed as they swung it down again , and again , and again , beating the weapon onto Tengen until he lied on the floor , groaning in pain .

` ` STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME , YOU DISGUSTING FREAK ! ` `

[ Y / n ] screams in between breaths .

` ` I DON ’ T HAVE EVIDENCE AS TO HOW YOU ’ RE STALKING ME , BUT FUCK OFF ! ` `

` ` you . . . little brat . ` `

before they could defend themself , Tengen graps [ Y / n ] to the neck , pushing them to the ground .

he ’ s smiling , but the veins showing on his neck say otherwise .

` ` you observant little brat . so you knew i was stalking you , huh ? ` `

his grip on your neck increases , making [ Y / n ] ’ s vision start to go dark until they fully lose consciousness .

-------------------------------------<*>-------------------------------------

after a few seconds of making sure you ’ ve fallen unconscious , he hoists you over your shoulder , ready to take you away , but he hears police sirens outside of your house .

they must ’ ve come because of the neighbors hearing you screaming .

smiling nervously , only one though comes through his mind .

` crap . `

#Anon #yandere Demon Slayer #yandere Demon Slayer x reader #yandere Kimetsu no Yaiba #yandere Kimetsu no Yaiba x reader #yandere KnY #yandere KnY x reader #yandere Tengen #yandere Tengen x reader #yandere Tengen Uzui #yandere Tengen Uzui x reader

[cower-before-power]

Naked Attraction

Summary: A typical day in your art class turn into anything but when you’re introduced to your nude model for the week- a devastatingly gorgeous man named Levi.

Pairing: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x F!Reader

TW: Nudity, swearing, suggestive content, age gap (reader is 20, Levi is 30), dick jokes, reader is thirsty and lewds Levi hard, perhaps poorly written stuff about art and drawing because I literally know nothing haha

(minors please do not interact, just to be safe)

Link to A03 here

A/N: Hello all! This is my entry for @ghost-party’s Meet Cute Collab with my darling husband Levi. I’ve never written for him before so I was a little nervous haha, I hope I did him justice! Thank you to everyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs- you are all wonderful and I appreciate your support! I hope you enjoy, my sweet potatoes!

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

“Morning,” Jean greets you with a crooked smile and a steaming cup of coffee. It’s the good stuff from the café by his apartment, your favourite thing to help your brain shift into creative mode. “You’re later than usual.”

You grab the cup from him, sighing as you feel the warmth bleed into your hands. “Overslept. Barely had time to get dressed and brush my teeth.”

Jean’s eyes rove over you as you sink into your chair, humming to yourself as you sip on your drink. “I can see. Do you know you’re wearing two different shoes? And I think your sweater is on inside out. Why do you still even have that ugly thing anyways?”

“Thank you for your comments,” you roll your eyes. “I know I look like a hot mess and I don’t need any words from you, Mr. I Asked The Nude Model Out And Got Shot Down.”

Jean’s ears turn red, and he shoots you a dirty look before busying himself with arranging his pencils. “Shut up.”

You snicker to yourself as you set up your own area. Last week’s model had been a soft, pretty brunette that had instantly made Jean all starry-eyed, like a teenage boy with his first crush. It was generally considered a bit taboo to ask out the nude models, but he’d thrown that aside and gone for the kill after she’d slid back into her clothes. She’d laughed and patted his cheek like he was a naughty child asking for candy before dinner. Then proceeded to walk out and climb onto the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle (but not before making out with said boyfriend for a good 5 minutes, minimum).

Jean had been left with red cheeks and no date, and you’d been left with great blackmail material.

“I wonder who will be our victim today,” you decide to take mercy on your poor friend and change the subject. “Most likely a guy, since we had a woman last week.”

“We’ll know in about 5 minutes,” Jean looks up at the clock on the wall. “Old Cueball is never late.”

Sure enough, in exactly 5 minutes your very bald and very punctual professor casually strolls through the door. A short man in a green coat is following him, presumably your newest subject. You crane your neck, trying to get a better look at his face, but all you can see is dark hair falling like a curtain over pale skin.

“Good morning class,” Professor Pyxis greets you, tossing his briefcase down on his desk with his usual nonchalant air. “I see you are all ready, so let’s get right to it.” He gestures to the person beside him. “This is Mr. Levi Ackerman. He’s your model for the week.”

The class murmurs in curiosity as the mentioned Levi Ackerman turns to face the room.

You swear your heart actually skips a beat.

Steel gray eyes observe the room from a face that practically begs to be immortalized through art. Every line is hard and strong, covered in clear skin that looks like it would slide under your fingers like the smoothest silk. Your eyes drink in his features greedily, from the regal bridge of his nose to the proud edge of his jaw. You decide your favorite thing though, is his cheeks. They are utterly cherubic, round and full and dusted ever so lightly with the lightest shade of pink.

He’s possibly the prettiest man you have ever seen.

“Hey, I know him,” Jean whispers, cutting off your entranced thoughts. “That’s Mikasa’s distant cousin, the one I told you she found on Ancestry.com last year. I’ve met him once, he’s got a stick so far up his butt, he’d need surgery to remove it. Never would have pegged him for the type to do this sort of thing.”

You vaguely remember a previous conversation involving Jean’s childhood friend and some long lost relatives.

“He doesn’t look that uptight,” you muse, too busy admiring the way his lips glint temptingly under the fluorescents to really process Jean’s words. “He’s beautiful, like something out of a Renaissance painting.”

Jean opens his mouth to reply, but Pyxis begins to speak.

“As usual, draw whichever side of him is facing you, all angles will be graded equally,” your professor plops himself down in his chair, already scrolling through his phone to find the playlist for the day. “Completed drawings to be submitted to me by the end of class on Friday. Please remember be respectful and courteous to our guest. Mr. Ackerman, whenever you’re ready.”

The man nods to your professor, already slipping out of his coat as he steps up onto the platform in the center of the room. You watch, mesmerized, as he proceeds to shed himself of his clothes. It’s rigid and methodical (he folds his clothes like he’s worked his whole life in a department store), but somehow oddly endearing. Every inch of his body that is revealed is consumed eagerly by your shameless stare, and you sincerely hope you don’t start drooling. By the time he carefully removes his final items, you feel like you are vibrating in your seat.

Holy fucking shit, he’s built like a god. Like Michelangelo himself carved him out of a block of the most pristine marble. You trace your gaze down the column of his throat, over the strong shoulders and sinewy arms, the impressive set of abs, the thighs that look like they could crush your head and you’d be nothing but happy about it. It takes a minute before you’re able to make yourself look between his thighs, and when you finally do, you have to looks away immediately. Good grief, even that is stupidly handsome. You can’t help but wonder if it would feel as nice as it looks.

Your face heats from your lewd thoughts, and you grip your pencil so hard it almost snaps. Beside you, Jean snickers.

“You okay over there? It looks like you’re about to explode.”

“Can it,” you hiss, glad that the ambient music Pyxis chose will probably keep your conversation private. “I can’t help it that I’m looking at the most gorgeous dick attached to the most gorgeous man I think I’ve ever seen.”

“You haven’t seen mine.”

“I don’t own a microscope.”

“Ooooh, see if I buy you coffee tomorrow, bitch.”

You stick your tongue out at him before turning back to your easel. As you move, you catch the gaze of Levi, his expression unreadable. Warmth creeps up the back of you neck, and you duck behind your sketchpad in embarrassment. You seriously hope he didn’t hear you, he’d probably report you to Pyxis for being creepy. You decide to lock all your stupid horny thoughts deep within the recesses of your mind, and take a few deep breaths to clear your head.

It works, and as you touch pencil to paper, the desire to create overflows inside of you.

Unsurprisingly, you become utterly engrossed in your work, your pencil sweeping over the pad with almost a mind of it’s own. Levi is the perfect model; you swear he’s not even breathing as he majestically hold his pose without even a quiver. The contours of his body spring to life on the page, and you can’t stop the joyful smile that blooms on your lips as you work. It’s times like these, when everything is so perfect, that you truly realize just how much you love making art.

Before you know it, Pyxis announces class is over, and you’ll resume with Levi tomorrow. The man of the hour begins to re-dress as your fellow classmates pack up their supplies and file out. You absent mindedly wave to Jean, who is practically sprinting out the door so he can make his next class all the way across campus. You’re still engrossed in your drawing, staring at it with critical eyes. It good, one of the best starts you’ve had all year, but now that the high of creating has worn off, you can see where you need to improve.

“You’re very good.”

You gasp and jump, whirling around to find Levi standing behind you, eyes fixed on your sketch. How did he even get there? You hadn’t seen him or heard him.

“Oh, uh, Mr Ackerman!” You squeak, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon.  “T-that’s very nice, I mean, thank- thank you very much!”

“It’s Levi,” your muse says, seemingly unbothered by your stammering. “Yours is going to be the best one here.”

You blink stupidly at his bold statement. “Did you look at all of them?”

“No,” Levi’s voice is firm, a tone that brokers no argument. “But you had the most joy on your face while you worked. That much passion doesn’t churn out stuff that looks like shit.”

“Oh, that’s only because you are such a great model,” you gush, insides turning warm at his praise. “You stayed so still and you looked so damn regal and you’re just so pretty and-” Your eyes go wide as you realize the absolute words vomit leaving your mouth, mortification slithering up your spine.

“I’m pretty?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”

“No!” You shout, and the man’s other eyebrow joins the first. “No wait, yes! I mean, fuck, I mean you are probably the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

Levi’s eyebrows have now practically become one with his hairline. You wring your hands, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow you. “I-well- come on, people must tell you how good looking you are! I can’t be the first.”

“No, but you certainly are the most enthusiastic about it,” Levi deadpans.

Oh, someone just put you out of your misery now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, cringing internally at your complete ineptitude to hold a conversation with an attractive man. “I....get carried away sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Levi’s stoic expression softens just a little. “It’s kind of nice to hear, actually. Usually I’m told I’m good looking, but ‘far too short’.”

“That’s bullshit.” you say vehemently, honestly shocked people would deny this man his godhood over something as trivial as height. “Who cares if you’re shorter? It doesn’t detract from you. What’s that phrase again? Good things come in small packages? Well, not that you’re small, I’m not saying that, I just meant-”

“Yes, you did seem to find my package....good,” Levi interrupts, and you swear you see the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as your brain replays your hushed conversation with Jean. “You heard that?!”

“I’m told I have exceptionally good hearing.”

“Oh fuck me,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “I am literally so, so, sorry. That was completely out of line. I have no excuse other than it’s clearly been too long since I’ve gotten some, but that’s no reason to make you uncomfortable. Please, if there’s anything I can do to to make it up to you, I’ll do it!”

“Have tea with me.””

Your head shoots up, surprise coloring your features. “What?”

“Tch, you heard me,” Levi tuts, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his phone. “I haven’t got free time till Saturday-stupid Shitty Glasses wanting to trade shifts-but if you want to go out, give me your number and we can work out the details.”

You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure if this is really happening or you’re vividly daydreaming again.

“Umm, are you sure?” You ask, wondering if you should pinch yourself to see if you are indeed imagining things. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m wearing two different shoes and my sweater is inside out. Believe me when I say these sorts of fashion statements happen more often than not. Plus, I practically salivated over you like some sort of horny middle aged suburban housewife who hasn’t been laid in years.” You pause to take a breath, once again unable to stop the words from spewing forth like a fountain. “And I’m so awkward! I mean, are you comfortable in this conversation? And I can’t stop talking once I’ve gotten going, and I say the weirdest shit, and, and-”

“I like you,” he says simply, as if he’s just declared something as obvious as 1+1=2. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about all the stuff you just said, you’re just... you, and I like it. So, do you want to go on a date or not?”

“O-oh,” you suddenly feel shy, your tummy filling with butterflies at the look of sincerity on his handsome face. You’d never met anyone quite like Levi Ackerman before, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know the man behind the drool-worthy muscles.  “Uh, yes, please, I would like that. Very much.”

An almost relieved expression crosses Levi’s face, and he hands you his phone to type in your number. You notice the time as you do so, and sigh sadly as you hand him his device back.

“Well I better go,” you say reluctantly, suddenly fervently wishing it was Saturday already. “I’ve got another class in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Levi says briskly, slipping his phone back into his coat. “To make sure you get there safely. Someone might murder you on account of their eyes being assaulted by that garish sweater. ” The corners of his lips twitch upwards once again, and you grow warm all over, from both his gentle teasing and the knowledge he isn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet either.

“Excuse me, I thought you said you didn’t give a ‘flying fuck’ about my attire,” you huff, but you’re grinning as you quickly pack up your bag.

“I don’t care it’s inside out, but you have to know that is the ugliest fucking color know to man,” Levi says, holding out his hand. Your brain malfunctions slightly for a moment, until you realize he’s offering to carry your bag for you. The butterflies inside you whip themselves into a frenzy as you pass him your stuff, your hand just grazing over his. Handsome, funny, honest, and sweet? How is this guy even real?

“I’ll have you know, this sweater is an absolute delight. When it’s inside right,” you stick up your nose, but unable to stop he laugh that slips past your lips.

Levi rolls his eyes in an almost playful manner. “Doubtful .”

You’re not sure where it comes from, but a sudden rush of confidence fills you. “If you’re so offended by it, maybe you should just rip it off of me.”

The tips of Levi’s ears turn a delightful shade of pink. You’re sure your own skin is hot enough to cook an egg on.

“Wear it Saturday then,” Levi’s ears may be flushed, but his eyes flash with something that makes your spine tingle. The insinuation of his words has your gut clenching and your mind whispering fervent prayers to please please please make Saturday get here faster, I don’t ask for much, please!

“Only if you wear your modeling outfit,” you manage to say, trying your best to sound coy when you feel like you might combust into a pile of lust and giddiness. “I’ve never seen someone wear it so well, and I want a closer look.”

If possible, Levi’s eyes grow even darker, and you just know Saturday is going to be one of the best damn days of your entire life.

“Deal.”

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Taglist: @clovertitan @millenialfanfictionaddiction @stigandr-the-cat @axoxtxhxh @bowandcurtsey​ @chaotic-nick​ @manjiroarchiviste​

#meet cute collab #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman imagine #levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, forty-eight

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompts:

“This wasn’t supposed to happen – this wasn’t – the plan was…”

Seeing someone’s made them their lockscreen

“Take these clothes and make them smell like you again.”

“I’m mad at you because I love you”

“Is that all you’re going to sleep in?” “Yeah, you know this is what I sleep in when it’s this warm.”

“Want to kiss me?” “Not in the slightest.”

Aelin did her best to keep a smile on her face as they drove the short distance from the beach to Aelin’s house, but inside she felt like she was dying a thousand deaths. She kept Rowan’s hand in a vice grip, laced with her fingers, and tried to focus on every detail of his hand instead of the gnawing feeling in her stomach. She turned his hand over in hers and let her thumb trail down each long finger, tapping the pad gently and trailing back down. He shivered as he pulled into her driveway, causing her to smile softly. But it was wiped off her face as he turned to her, concerned, pulling his hand away and resting it on his lap.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

His side-eye was enough to let her know that he’d clocked her sudden silence in the car, but she didn’t want to fight tonight. She just wanted to be with him. She wanted to pretend that he hadn’t just torn apart the future she’d imagined for them; she wanted to feel him pressed against her and kiss him senseless until all her bad thoughts had emptied out of her head.

“It kind of feels like you’re mad at me?” Rowan prodded, not getting the hint that she just wanted to ignore things and barrel forward. But she was always better at ignoring things than he was. “Is this about the, uh… sex stuff?”

“I’m not,” she said. It wasn’t even a lie – she’d been so distracted by the college news that his new sex parameters had been completely erased from her brain. Plus, it wasn’t even that she was mad. She was confused. Really, really confused. “I’m just hungry.”

At that, a wide smile cracked across Rowan’s face, his green eyes glinting with laughter as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. She hummed happily at the feel of his soft mouth against hers.

“I should have known,” he chuckled against her skin. Then it was her turn to shiver.

His voice was ever so slightly lower, and she loved the new feel of the vibrations against her cheek. Her eyes widened as he pulled back, giving her some sort of indiscernible look, and then immediately closed as his lips crashed against hers. The kiss took her by surprise as the ferocity melted away into something softer. This kiss was unlike anything she’d experienced before; it was slower, more prolonged, his tongue just barely brushing between her lips to touch hers. An uncontrollable guttural noise escaped her mouth as his hands knotted in her hair, grabbing fistfuls of her salt-dried locks. He reared back quickly, his eyes downcast as he rubbed his hand over his face and groaned a low, painful sound. But he smiled at her again, regardless.

“Who taught you how to kiss like that?” Aelin asked, breathless and eyes glazed over with lust, feeling phantom tingles against her mouth, remembering the kiss in excruciating detail.

Rowan’s cheeks flushed, but she barely noticed, too distracted by the way his new muscles flexed beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt as he ran his hand through his unruly hair.

“I told you the guys at camp were…informative,” he laughed under his breath. His eyes flicked up to hers, nervously, and she couldn’t help but sigh happily. That was the reunion she had imagined. Incredible kisses and sweet smiles and soft blushes.

“We were supposed to eat hours ago,” he laughed. “And you’re going to get even grumpier if you keep looking at me like that because I’m not going to let you out of this car.”

“We can arrange for that,” Aelin laughed, leaning over the console, but Rowan just laughed and grabbed his vibrating phone from his pocket. A long string of text alerts appeared on the screen, garnering Aelin’s curiosity. “Someone’s popular…” she said, wondering who could possibly be texting Rowan that much.

“Camp guys group chat,” he explained, quickly clearing the notifications away with a swipe of his thumb and revealing his lock screen – Aelin’s own face smiling back at her from his hand.

“Am I your lock screen?” she asked, though the answer was quite clear. His lock screen was the picture she’d sent with him to camp – her smiling and posing in her lifeguard uniform. At his shy answering smile, she wanted to launch herself at him again, but he stopped her with a soft kiss. She couldn’t help but pout.

“Food,” Rowan protested weakly.

“Kisses,” Aelin said, leaning forward again. “I need to collect on a thousand of them, remember?” Her lips pressed against his softly over and over, her words escaping between the thousand kisses she meant to collect.

“Babyyy,” he said, pained.

The sound thrilled Aelin and sent a jolt of electricity down her spine. She pulled back, flushed and smiling, their discord pushed to the back of her brain, erased by Rowan’s thorough kisses.

“So, not that I mind… at all,” Aelin said, unbuckling herself and finally getting out of the car. “But, I don’t think you’ve ever called me baby so much before.”

Rowan slung his arm over her shoulder and pulled her tight, and she inhaled his scent that she’d missed so much and exhaled the tension from her shoulders.

“It’s so I don’t confuse you with my other girlfriends,” he said so nonchalantly that Aelin froze and looked up at him. And up a little further. It was going to take some getting used to his new height. His answering smirk was enough to have Aelin pulling herself out of his grasp and punching the side of his arm. “Ow,” he laughed, rubbing at the spot where Aelin had landed her first. “What?” he joked. “If I call you all baby I have less chance of mixing up your names…baby,” he said with a wink.

Though she was a hundred percent certain Rowan was joking, she couldn’t help the small tug of insecurity, reminding her that she wasn’t always his one and only.

She must have made a face because Rowan tugged at her hand and pulled her close again. “I’m kidding, Ace.”

“You’d better be,” she mumbled, opening the front door.

They were greeted by the sight of Rhoe and Lorcan in the kitchen, which barely phased Aelin at this point. Lorcan was sitting at the table, hunched over as he scooped tortilla chips into a large bowl of guacamole, while Rhoe cooked something on the stovetop.

“BABE!” Lorcan bellowed through his mouthful of chips.

Aelin practically rolled her eyes as her hulking friend galloped across the room to embrace her boyfriend. Though she couldn’t help but notice that Rowan was only about an inch or two shorter than Lorcan. Wow, he really had grown. Apparently that was the first thing that Lorcan noticed, too, because his eyes widened as he took in Rowan’s new form, perusing him up and down before smirking soundly and clapping his friend on the back.

“Well, well, well, look who finally grew up,” Lorcan said with a salacious grin. “You fill in that much everywhere?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Salvaterre, don’t be gross,” Rhoe chastised weakly before giving his own hug to Rowan. “Welcome back, kid. We missed you. And it looks like Antica agreed with you,” he said with a smile.

“I guess?” Rowan shrugged, but Lorcan wanted to make sure her boyfriend knew exactly what that meant.

“Babe,” he began, getting Rowan’s attention back. “You got hot. Like, really hot.”

A steady blush crept up the back of Rowan’s neck as he shyly tucked his chin into his chest, his eyes sliding to Aelin for confirmation.

“I don’t know about that,” he mumbled, but Lorcan just let out a snort.

“Well, I do.” He paused and looked at Aelin, concerned. “Come on, Aelin, tell him. He looks like a golden god.”

Aelin frowned at the boy who had become like an annoying older brother to her in the course of the summer, and reached up and covered Rowan’s ears as best as she could, lifting up onto her tiptoes. “Don’t tell him, Lor! It’s much better for all of us if he doesn’t know.”

“I can still hear you,” Rowan laughed, eyes amused as he pulled Aelin’s hands from his ears.

“So, Golden God,” Rhoe said, trying his hardest not to laugh. “Don’t keep us waiting forever. Maeve said you had some very exciting news to share, but she wouldn’t tell us.”

Rowan looked nervously at Aelin and then back at Lorcan and Rhoe as they waited impatiently, and Aelin’s stomach twisted again. She’d been able to push away this information for a little bit, but she knew she’d have to deal with it eventually.

But she stood dutifully beside him, always smiling as he showed them his Wendlyn recruitment letter.

“Wowwwww,” Lorcan said, taking the letter and looking at it closer. “Better get those grades up this semester,” he joked at Aelin, causing her bad mood to return in full force. She was afraid she was going to cry, seeing how happy her dad and Lorcan were for Rowan. She should have been just as happy, but she just couldn’t bring herself to be.

She lifted herself up onto her toes again and pressed her lips to his cheek.

“I’m going to go shower and change. Will you figure out dinner?” she asked softly. She didn’t bother to wait for Rowan’s acceptance of her request to bolt upstairs and shut the door.

Carefully encased in her room, she let her shoulders sag. She felt the weight of the night collapse onto her, her emotions running wild as she finally let herself really truly feel. The strong spray of the shower wasn’t enough to clear away the feelings of upset, but then she was clouded with guilt. She should be happy for Rowan. Everyone else was. It was a fantastic opportunity, what he was being presented with. A full ride to an incredible school.

An incredible school that she had no shot of getting into.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d thought about their future. She’d imagined walking across campus hand-in-hand and sneaking kisses between study sessions in the library, of coming back to her dorm late at night, tipsy on cheap alcohol and endorphins and twisting into a tiny twin bed, legs entangled as they slept together. She imagined going to his games and getting decked out in their college colors and sitting with their group of friends as they cheered wildly for him, for their team to win. She imagined meeting on campus for coffee between classes and coming back home together.

As the water pelted onto her sore muscles, she mourned the loss of her imagined future. She took deep breaths as the images faded away, becoming something horrible, something sinister. She saw Rowan on the Wendlyn campus, surrounded by other girls far smarter and more talented than her, all laughing and trading stories about their exes from high school. A wave of insecurity swept over her, tugging her mood down, down, down, until all her dreams had swirled down the drain with the last droplet of water as she turned off the faucet.

She looked at herself in the mirror, her usually bright eyes looking sullen and angry, and tried to shake it off, but it was too late. She’d let it wash over her. She’d been overtaken.

Her mood only worsened when she realized most of her pajamas were dirty, and she had nothing more than an old dryer shrunken tank top and well-worn shorts to wear. So, now she didn’t even feel cute. She was calling tonight a wash.

Heading downstairs, she was unsurprised to see all the men in her life, huddled around the chips and guac on the table, shoveling food into their mouths and discussing Lorcan’s favorite parts of fire academy. But as Rowan heard her footsteps creaking across the floorboards, he inhaled sharply and began coughing wildly.

“What are you wearing?” Rowan managed to wheeze out as his coughing subsided, and Aelin looked down at her ratty old pajamas with a frown.

“Pajamas?”

“That’s all you’re going to sleep in?” he asked, his eyes slowly trailing down the expanse of her exposed legs.

Aelin crossed her arms over her chest protectively. “You know this is what I sleep in when it’s this warm,” she replied, nonplussed. The pajamas were old, yes, but he didn’t have to make a big deal about it. She didn’t get why he was so hung up on it. Rowan blinked and blinked again, clearing his throat slightly as he looked away.

“With Lorcan here?”

Aelin frowned. “Lorcan’s always here.”

Lorcan snorted loudly. “You weren’t kidding. She is hangry.”

Aelin’s brows furrowed as her eyes narrowed in Lorcan’s direction as she took the empty seat next to Rowan. She sat stiffly beside him, neither of them reaching for each other how they usually would, no hands held or knees caressed or hair tucked behind ears. She felt all weird and prickly and wrong.

“So,” she said turning to him, “Did you figure out dinner, or did you just eat chips?”

Rhoe paused mid-bite, looking between Aelin and Rowan curiously. His brow raised, but Aelin just shook her head slightly.

“I thought we’d go out for pizza, but if you’re already in pajamas, we could order delivery?” Rowan suggested. Aelin just shrugged and took the empty seat next to him.

“And wait an hour for Aelin to be fed?” Lorcan gasped. “That sounds dangerous.”

Aelin frowned. “You think you’re so funny.”

“He’s not funny, he tells the truth, Fireheart,” Rhoe said, pressing a kiss to Aelin’s forehead as he made his way to the kitchen. “Let’s see what we have in the fridge.” She watched as her dad opened and closed all the doors and cabinets, shouting out options to them, each one sounding worse than the last.

“I think, maybe, pizza is the safest,” Aelin said.

“We have stuff for BLTs?” Rhoe called out, and Lorcan lit up at that.

“Oooh, a BLT sounds perfect,” he bellowed back.

Rowan snorted. “Yeah, I bet you’d like to B your L on someone’s T’s,” he mumbled under his breath, causing Lorcan’s eyes to widen in shock.

“Did you just say what I think you said?” he asked, laughter bubbling up in his chest, his dark eyes filled with amusement.

“No,” Rowan replied quickly, his cheeks burning red as his eyes trained down on the table, away from Lorcan’s prying eyes. Aelin looked between the two boys, not understanding what was just said.

“My little boy grew up in more ways than one this summer!” Lorcan said, pretending to wipe a tear away from his cheek. Rowan threw a chip across the table at Lorcan’s face, shaking his head. "Naughty, naughty..."

“Shut up.”

“I don’t get it,” she said, frustrated, but Rowan just shot her down.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aelin stared at him, willing him to break, but he just shook his head and looked down and away from her again as Lorcan smirked.

She wanted to throttle him. It was enough to be rejected sexually and then have him go to college without her, but now for him to be talking about things and not explaining them to her? Inside jokes or whatever, that she was purposefully being excluded from. She felt a burning fury overtake her sadness, replacing her disappointment with a consuming fire, flames raging on the sides of her cheeks as she spat, “Fine,” and stood up from the table and went to go help her dad with their dinner.

There was something comforting about going on autopilot and making sandwiches with her dad. She’d done it so many nights in her life that she could shut her brain off as she reached for the bread, putting it into the toaster and grabbed a tomato and began slicing. Her dad stood beside her, flipping pieces of sizzling bacon.

“So…” he finally said, his voice low and concerned. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but I thought for sure you and Rowan would be… reuniting—” he cleared his throat uncomfortably as his eyes shot down to focus on the meat in the pan in front of him, “—elsewhere, until late tonight.”

“Dad.” Aelin couldn’t bear to have her dad talk about her and Rowan’s lack of reuniting.

His low chuckle was countered by his concerned side glance, his blue eyes prying for more information that Aelin did not want to give.

“I’m just saying, there is a distinct lack of hand-holding and all-around general cuddliness between you two, and I was prepared for much, much worse from the girl who spent every night kissing Rowan’s picture before bed.”

Aelin’s eyes shot to her dad as the toast popped out of the toaster. “You said you’d never bring that up!”

“Fireheart…” Rhoe continued.

But Aelin wasn’t ready to talk yet. “It’s fine. We’re fine.”

“Uh huh,” Rhoe said, pulling the bacon off the pan and laying them on paper towels to de-grease. “Well, if you want to talk, you know where I am.”

“With Lorcan?” she snapped, and immediately felt bad. Her dad had nothing to do with her bad mood. “Sorry,” she apologized quickly. She snatched a warm piece of bacon between her fingers and plopped it into her mouth, letting the salty goodness comfort her. “I really do need some food.”

Luckily, her dad heard her loud and clear and let her stew in her bad mood as she put the sandwiches together while he sliced up some carrots.

Aelin nibbled on her dinner as Rowan and Lorcan wolfed down three sandwiches each.

“I guess you were hungry?” Aelin asked as Rowan brushed a crumb from the corner of his mouth.

“I wasn’t joking when I told you I was hungry all the time,” he laughed, finally resting his hand on her bare knee.

“Hungry and horny,” Lorcan laughed, sending a wink to Rowan across the table. Rowan snatched his hand back from Aelin’s knee, grasping it in his lap, his fingers interlocked as demurely as possible, as Rhoe smacked Lorcan’s shoulder.

“Get out of my house, Salvaterre,” Rhoe said, and though he said it with a joking chuckle, it was clear he was serious. “You’re a terrible influence on my child. I don't need you corrupting Rowan, too.”

“I was jokingggg,” Lorcan insisted, but Rhoe just shook his head. "And I think Rowan has already been corrupted."

The blush that deepened on Rowan's cheeks made Lorcan laugh, but Rhoe merely sighed, telling Lorcan he still needed to leave.

“These two are going to hang out upstairs in Aelin’s room," Rhoe said, "And I am going to catch up on some work.”

“We are?” Aelin asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

“With the door open,” Rhoe warned. “The rules haven’t changed.”

“Except for later curfew,” Aelin reminded him of the conversation they’d had last week, begging to extend her hours until midnight this year. They compromised at 10 on weekdays, but midnight on weekends.

“Except for later curfew,” Rhoe repeated back to her, ignoring the way Lorcan grumbled as he got his things together. “See you in the morning, trainee,” her dad said, sending Lorcan off with a salute.

“Yes, sir,” Lorcan replied automatically. He wrapped his arms around Aelin from behind and whispered in her ear, “Have funnnn,” causing her to elbow him off of her. She didn’t know how she’d ended up with an older brother this summer, but somehow she had. And sometimes he was really annoying.

“So…” Rowan began, standing suddenly. “Upstairs?”

Aelin nodded and watched him grin and sprint up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Aelin took them slower, climbing them one at a time, and she wasn’t surprised to see Rowan already laid out on her bed when she made it to her room. His face was buried into her pillow, inhaling deeply as he groaned, “I missed your smell. Like flowers and lemons.” He rolled onto his back, a big dopey grin on his face, his green eyes lit up with mischief as he asked her, “Do you want to come kiss me?” His hand patted the comforter next to him, but Aelin shook her head.

“Not in the slightest.”

Though she’d tried to make it sound like a joke, it was clear it hadn’t landed. Rowan sat up quickly, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Okay, now I know you’re mad at me.”

And Aelin exploded. She couldn’t bear to keep it all inside for one more second.

“Of COURSE I’m mad!”

“Can you tell me why?” Rowan asked, standing up and coming closer. But Aelin put her hand up to stop him. She couldn’t think if he got too close. And now that she’d cracked, she needed to explain herself. But the emotions were spilling out, pouring over in tidal waves, and she was having a hard time articulating the right answer.

“Because! This wasn’t supposed to happen!” she exclaimed, but Rowan just looked at her like she was crazy.

“What wasn’t supposed to happen?”

“No, that’s not…” she took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. “We had a plan, and the plan wasn’t – fuck!” Then it was her turn to start to pace. Why couldn’t she just string a god damned sentence together.

“What?” he asked, pushing her to tell him more, his eyes probing for more information as his hands came to rest on either one of her cheeks, steadying her with his concerned face. “What?” he asked again, and Aelin shook her head, letting a tear fall down her cheek. She hadn’t even realized she was crying. Rowan’s thumb swiped against her skin softly, moving the wetness away. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice nothing more than a whisper. “What did I do?”

She steeled herself, took a deep breath and looked up. “We were supposed to go to college together,” she said, hoping her voice wasn’t shaking as much as it felt.

“I…” Rowan’s hands dropped from her cheeks as his broad shoulders tensed. “You’re mad that I got into college? I thought you’d be proud of me… You know how worried I was, and it’s my shot to actually do something with my life.”

“No…no, no… that’s not…” Aelin took another breath. “I am so proud of you, Ro. Wendlyn is incredible.” She watched as the tension drained from his muscles at her words. “I just thought the plan was to go to college together.”

“It is,” Rowan insisted, but Aelin shook her head.

“I can’t get into Wendlyn,” she finally admitted out loud what had been plaguing her all night. “That’s a top school. And even if I did get in, it’s a private school. I have no idea how I’d afford it. And I certainly can’t get a scholarship to a school like that.”

Rowan looked struck for the first time. As if he hadn’t considered Aelin’s words. As if he’d just assumed that she’d be able to go to the school he got into, no matter how exclusive and elite it was.

“There are so many schools by Wendlyn,” Rowan finally said. “Mistward is filled with them. There’s Doranelle and Varese and Mt. Cambria and College of Rivers. So, you could be nearby, even if you don’t get into Wendlyn.”

“So you admit, you don’t think I can get into Wendlyn,” Aelin said defiantly, and she thought that Rowan’s eyes were going to pop out of his head with frustration as he threw his large arms up into the air and then back down again.

“You just said you didn’t think you could get in!” he said, exasperated. But Aelin could only hear the negatives ringing in her head, unwilling to hear what he was really saying. “Ace,” he said steadily. “We promised, no matter what, we’d make this work. This is no exception. You’re mad at me over nothing.”

“I’m mad at you because I love you,” Aelin said. “Because I want to be with you forever, and the idea of four years apart makes me want to cry.”

“Please don’t cry,” Rowan said, but it was too late. Tears had started falling down Aelin’s cheeks again. “We’re going to be together forever. We are,” Rowan insisted. “No matter what. Forever." Aelin nodded through her sniffles, feeling overwhelmed and a little stupid at her outburst. "Can I kiss it better?” Rowan asked, rubbing his nose against hers.

Aelin sniffed loudly, laughing at the feel of his nose poking at her. “Only if you take your sweatshirts back and make them smell like you again,” Aelin said.

His answering smile was blinding, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared as he moved his mouth to hers. Ready to kiss it better.

She accepted his kisses readily, letting his arms wrap around her waist and pull her close. He had to duck down to reach her mouth, and she had to tilt her head to the sky, but no matter what, kissing Rowan always felt like a soothing balm on her weary soul. His lips healed her aches and bruises, the cracked edges of her anger and sadness smoothing over with each caress of his tongue against hers. They stood there, kissing until Aelin’s tears dried and a new ache formed in her chest – one of longing and hunger. Her hands played with the ends of his hair, relishing in the sounds that came out of his mouth, tugging him tighter, and refusing to let him go until they were startled by the loud sound of Rhoe’s boot stomping up the stairs.

They parted quickly, wiping at their mouths and faces as Rhoe appeared in the open doorway.

“It’s late,” was all Rhoe said. But Rowan understood.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Rowan asked, and Aelin nodded, the small tendril of sadness sneaking its way back out as he stepped away from her. As if he could sense it, he leaned back in and kissed her again, not caring that Rhoe was standing right there. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Aelin countered.

“Impossible,” Rowan said, kissing Aelin again until Rhoe was forced to clear his throat loudly.

“She kissed your picture goodnight every night you were gone,” Rhoe said, trying to hide his own smile beneath his hand.

“DAD!” Aelin’s cheeks heated as Rowan’s face lit up.

“Me too,” he said, smiling as he said it. As he was turning to leave, Aelin remembered the bag in her closet and ran to grab it.

“Wait!” she exclaimed, shoving the bag full of hoodies back at him. “You know what to do,” she said, lifting herself up on her toes to kiss him one last time and wrapping his hand around the bag’s handle.

“Goodnight, Rowan,” Rhoe laughed.

Aelin sighed loudly and collapsed onto her bed as Rowan made his way downstairs, and she couldn’t help but smile as her phone lit up with a text from her boyfriend before he even pulled out of her driveway.

Forever, Ace. We’ll figure it out.

The bed dipped beside her as Rhoe sat and turned toward her, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Want to tell me what that was all about?”

“No?”

But Rhoe wasn’t letting her off the hook anymore. He’d endured the weirdness downstairs, and then she was sure he heard them shouting. She was sure he was dying to know what was going on between them, especially since they parted with kind kisses and flushed faces.

Aelin groaned as she fell back onto her pillow, but she couldn’t help but smile as she smelled faint traces of Rowan’s bodywash there. Yeah. She’d missed that scent, too.

“Fireheart?” her dad asked, poking at her side.

“It’s nothing,” Aelin said, propping herself up onto her elbows.

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” Rhoe replied, raising an eyebrow. Fuck. Aelin knew he’d heard the shouting from downstairs. She’d hoped the television would drown them out, but of course it hadn’t.

“Rowan is going to Wendlyn.”

“I know,” Rhoe said. “Pretty awesome, right?”

“Yeah,” Aelin sighed. “Awesome.”

“Or, not awesome?” he prodded. Aelin collapsed back to the bed, staring at the ceiling as she unloaded onto her dad.

“Awesome for him, for sure. Not so awesome for me, who definitely can’t get into that school.”

“Says who?” Rhoe asked.

Aelin chuckled without humor. “Um, everyone? We’ve had two valedictorians get rejected from there. Somehow I don’t think little old me with my A’s and B’s is going.”

“Hmm,” was all Rhoe said.

And nothing else.

Aelin couldn’t stand it. She sat back up and looked at her dad, who was staring at her thoughtfully. “What?” she asked.

He shrugged and shook his head, rubbing his hand against his beard which desperately needed to be shaved.

“I just didn’t expect you to be such a defeatist,” Rhoe said. “I thought you were a fighter, who liked a challenge.”

“There’s a difference between liking a challenge and being delusional, dad,” Aelin said with a scoff, but his sentiment prickled at her skin.

“I don’t know about that, Fireheart.” He paused. “I don’t think it’s delusional to try. What happened to the girl who refused to go to sleep until she learned the top hundred most difficult words to spell?”

“She was ten, and she didn’t even make it past the first round of the spelling bee because she forgot tomorrow has only one ‘m’ in it.”

That brought a wide smile to her dad’s face. “Yeah, but you were so driven. Still are.” He laughed. “You’ve always been an overachiever. Weren’t you the only junior in a senior math class last year?”

“Yes…” Aelin admitted. She was good at math. She always had been. This year she’d be taking an Advanced Placement calculus class, and she didn’t know who else would even be in it.

“The only thing you’ve ever wanted I’ve seen you not go for… is Rowan.”

That made Aelin pause. It was true. She usually had no problem shooting for the moon, but when it came to Rowan, she suddenly questioned everything about herself. She thought she’d outgrown that insecurity, but at the mention of his college admission, it came rushing back to her. Could she actively squash that insecurity? She didn’t know.

“So,” Rhoe continued, “what would you need to do to be a competitive applicant to Wendlyn?” he asked.

“Seriously?” Aelin couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but her dad nodded. “Okay, well… I’d probably have to make my course load way harder, to weight my GPA. And I’d need to get A’s in all of them. And I don’t even know if it’s too late to do that.”

The edge of Rhoe’s lips curled into a small smile. “Okay, well, let’s say it’s not, and you do that. What else?”

“I’d need a direction. Something to make me stand out. An extracurricular or volunteer work or a job, or all three that all tied together somehow.”

“Last I heard, Petrah was begging you to come back and take more classes. Think she might have a job for you, too?” he asked, and suddenly Aelin’s mind was reeling with possibilities. She wanted to temper her excitement, though. She couldn’t just assume she could make this happen.

“Lots of kids dance, dad,” she said.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I doubt many of them learned all of Clara’s choreography in sixth grade just in case the understudy and Clara were both sick.” That made Aelin laughed. She remembered practicing the twirls in the studio, following along the choreography until she knew it just as well as her snowflake dance. “You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take,” Rhoe finally said.

“That was cheesy, Dad.”

But she was smiling. He was right. Maybe it wasn’t likely that she’d get into Wendlyn. Hell, it was the longest shot she could possibly imagine. But she had to try. Not just for Rowan, but for her, too.

“Alright, what else?” Rhoe asked, and Aelin got out her journal, ready to make a list of everything she needed to do to try and hold onto her dream. She wasn’t willing to let it slip away. Not yet.

~*~

#idwtw au #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #charincharge writes #tog fanfic #throne of glass fic #i'm not nearly as angsty as you thin #there will be dramz #but come on #i'm me #LOVE YOU ALLLLLLL #review #reblog #inbox me #i wanna hear thoughts and thoris #theories

[hotchscvm]

best friend’s daddy - part three

Warnings: dark!andy barber, language, mentions of age difference, mentions of sex, underage drinking, pregnancy

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: A series of snapshots with your past and current life with Andy Barber.

[highly requested—and i mean highly]

masterlist

Newton, MA - 2017 Homecoming Game

He saw you immediately, shamelessly staring at the bright, yet fake smile slapped on your face as you posed for the picture. Andy's eyes drifted to the football players arms around your waist, too far down for the assistant district attorney's liking, not that he could do anything about it. He was unable to contain the eye roll when one of the players pressed a quick kiss on your cheek while you looked at the camera.

Andy knew he had no right feeling that way. He knew you thought he hated you. The glares, the tone he used, the disapproval glances he gave Jacob whenever you were with him. It was enough evidence for you to think he didn't want you around. He didn't. But not for the same reasons as you think.

Jacob ran past him, pulling you into a hug as the players around you ran back to their pre-game huddle, hyping themselves up. He heard your laugh, his previous annoyance washing away as he listened, wishing he didn't have to keep up his act. Instead, he watched from afar, noticing the fake smile replaced by a genuine one as you hugged your best friend, your cheer skirt rising before dropping back to it's already short length as soon as Jacob let you go.

Like the years before, Laurie didn't come to the homecoming game, claiming she was far too busy with work but Andy wasn't dumb. He could see it in her face everyday, helplessly watching his wife distance herself from him. But he couldn't blame her; he was doing the same. After all, not everything is supposed to last forever.

He secretly admired you, silently praising your will to pursue the career you wanted despite the very many attempts, and lectures from your parents about becoming a lawyer. Andy had gotten calls from them, more than happy to show you around the building with your parents hope of you magically being interested in what they had planned. But you were stubborn, and you hadn't backed down. He was impressed.

You glanced at Andy, surprised he wasn't glaring at you but rather staring at you with an expression you couldn't quite place, and you quickly diverted your eyes back to Jacob. "I'm so glad you came! Thank you for not being a total nerd tonight."

"My dad practically dragged me out of the house, grumbling about how I had to support my best friend when she's on the cheerleading team." Jacob explained, motioning to his father, the older Barber climbing the stairs as he claimed a spot on the bleachers next to your father. "I think it was just an excuse to watch a game that didn't feature the Patriots."

Once again, you were surprised. As said before, you thought he didn't care for your presence; to hear he wanted his son to support you was surprisingly shocking no matter how small it was. "Oh. Looks like he and Dad are gossiping again. Your mom didn't come?"

"No, she had work. What about yours?" asked Jacob.

"Business trip." you answered, sarcasm dripping from your voice. You saw the Instagram posts her friends posted, the so-called business trip had turned into a vacation with the girls. You heard your name being yelled, your cheer squad waving you over. Turning back to Jacob, you smiled. "They're calling me over so I gotta go. I'll find you after halftime, okay? We can ditch."

Jacob arched a brow, the corner of his lips twitching up. "But you're head cheerleader. Aren't you supposed to stay for the whole game?"

"Nah, Leila can take over after halftime. I'll just make up an excuse and say I went off with a guy or something." you said, tightening your ponytail. "Oh, and don't use the last stall in the boy's bathroom. Pretty sure someone had sex in that."

"Pretty sure that someone was you." he replied, grinning as you flipped him off. He laughed when you nearly ran into toddler, apologizing to the little person before running to the squad.

Jacob joined Andy and your father, answering questions from your dad, and listening to the two fathers talk about the mundane life as the game started. Andy's vision kept drifting off to you, cheering on the sidelines as the game, accidentally missing parts of the game. Not that he minded to much, he had a nice view, and he knew the score. It wasn't that much of an inconvenience for him.

Before halftime, you snuck away, going into the school to grab another hair tie from your locker. Thankfully, the field was close to the west side of the school, the locker bay only a short walk from the entrance. Coincidentally, just as you walked towards the bathroom with the hair tie, Andy bumped into you, the phone in his hand dropping to the floor.

"Oh, shit." you cursed, quickly bending down, grabbing the phone and handing it back to your best friend's dad. "Sorry, Mr. Barber, I wasn't looking."

Andy sighed, studying his phone instead of giving into the urge to comfort your tense state. For the millionth time, he wished he didn't have to act like a dick to you. "It's fine. Just watch where your going or you might head into the mens' room."

Not knowing whether he was serious or not, you gave an awkward nod, walking pass him. You hadn't seen the lingering glance he gave you before walking back to the game. Pushing on the bathroom door, you let yourself drown in your jitters, hyping yourself up before coming back and performing.

You had forgotten about Andy by the time you returned.

—

Newton, MA - May 14, 2018

Andy heard the knock, getting out of his seat to unlock the door. A presence befall him, a feeling he only got when you were nearby. With that thought, he immediately opened the door, greeted by the sight of you soaking from the rainfall, shivering, eyes slightly swollen, and downright miserable.

He called out your name in surprise, shocked to see you in such a messy state, let alone see you in his office. "What happened? Come in, come in. Are you okay?"

"Sorry, I—" you shivered, biting your lip to keep from spilling every problem you had faced on him. "It was raining so hard that I had to stop so I wouldn't crash or anything. And this was the closest building I parked to. I ran inside but I guess it didn't make any difference seeing how soaked I am."

Andy wrapped his jacket around your shoulders, unable to find a stray blanket or anything warm to give you. He led you to the leather couch, softly pushing you down to sit on it. "Come here, sit down. Did school end early?"

"No, um, I skipped." you sniffed, sinking down on the leather, letting Andy's coat fall over your shoulders. "I had a fight with my mom. A big one. So, I didn't exactly feel that great to come to school and I've been driving around since eight."

"Sweetheart, you're soaked. You're going to get sick." Andy murmured, wiping his warm hand over your forehead, the little droplets of water wetting his hand. "I have some clean clothes in my gym bag. Tell me what you were fighting about, it might make you feel better."

You watched him grab his duffel bag from under his desk, opening your mouth to protest but the cold, wet clothes made you close it. "I made some backhand comment about having a job in fashion, then she just blew up. She wants me to be a lawyer, go to the best schools, and be successful even if I'm not happy. I told her to fuck off, yelling that I'll do what I want. She didn't like that answer, so I grabbed my keys and drove around."

Andy gave you his Patriots shirt, and a clean pair of sweats, taking his wet jacket from you. You whispered a thank you, before taking off your dripping shirt, not caring Andy was watching. He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes away from your half-naked body. "Well, what did you want to be? What do you want to do after school?"

"I don't really know, except for the fact that I don't want to be a lawyer, that's for sure." you replied, putting on the sweatpants Andy gave you, relishing in the warmth. "I'm sorry for getting your couch wet, I—"

"It's okay, don't worry about it, sweetheart. Are you okay, now? Do you want me to do something about it?" Andy asked, unsure to hug you so he settled for an awkward pat on your shoulder, moving closer to you.

You scoffed, fidgeting with the hem of the large Patriots t-shirt, rolling your eyes at the question. "Trust me, there's nothing you could do about it. They're both so persistent on me being this successful lawyer that it doesn't matter if I want to be one. Tell me, Mr. Barber, what's so fucking great about being one?"

He bit back a smile, shifting on the couch until he was touching you, the serotonin you gave him encouraged Andy to brush back your dripping hair behind your ear, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. With wide eyes, and a slight frown, you meet his eyes. "Well, firstly, you're able to help people. In layman's terms, you either can defend a client, or prosecute a criminal. Putting the bad guys away. Um, you can meet new people, have some experiences that's unlikely for others. But, you're right. You shouldn't have to do what you're parents have planned for you."

"Try telling them that." you sniffled, goosebumps appearing on your arms, subconsciously leaning your cheek on Andy's hand. He heard the angelic sigh escape from your lips, his smile appearing. "Thank you for the clothes and everything Mr. Barber."

"Don't mention it." he replied, bravely wrapping his arms around your slightly shivering body. Andy felt you tense for a few moments before slowly relaxing, shifting so he could rest his chin on your head, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your back. After a few minutes of silence, Andy reluctantly broke the silence. "Would you like me to call Jacob?"

He saw the flash of hurt in your eyes before you composed your expression, nodding slowly as you pulled away. "Yeah, I'll call him. He has free period so he won't be missing anything, I promise. Sorry for keeping you from work, Mr. Barber."

Andy shook his head, helping you up from the couch. "No, no, no. I just had some papers to go through, you didn't keep me from anything. The rain is slowing but you can stay in here until Jake comes. If you want."

You nodded, giving him a weak smile. "Thank you."

—

The Barber House - June 1, 2018

Giggling uncontrollably, you leaned against Jacob, a bottle of beer in your hand. Jacob laughed over the cartoon character with you, throwing his head back at the ridiculous scene on screen. Scooby had just stared at the screen, ending the episode, the screen turning black before another episode started. The noise Scooby made just had you and Jacob in another fit of uncontrollable laughter.

The sleepover had been spontaneous, yet long way overdue. In less than a week, you'd have graduated, and moved out of Boston, living in New York City as you went to the same college. That was one of the upside of finally leaving Newton, but even with the continuous nagging from your parents, you were still going to miss them.

You had been extra quiet, knowing full well Andy was stressed for something Laurie had done, the wife walking out of the house just as you had pulled up on the driveway. She had given you a friendly greeting, asking questions about graduation, before hugging you and driving away in her car. You knew it was bad as soon as you entered the house, seeing Andy glaring at the kitchen counter as you waited for Jacob to come save you. Thankfully, you didn't have to make small talk with the lawyer.

But the his tense expression was enough to keep you quiet in Jacob's room. Well, until he turned up with beers he had gotten from a mutual friend of yours, Cory Gilbert, the bartender at the bar and grill you and Jacob frequented at. He was over 21, legally able to buy the beer, giving it to Jacob as a present for graduation. Cory had given you a nice bottle of brandy, but you had decided to save it for graduation night instead.

Getting drunk hadn't been hard, for Jacob anyways; it took more than a few pleads from your already drunk friend to convince you to drink with him. Once you did, you felt the liquid slightly burn down your throat and you greeted the giddy feeling it left you. Soon, you were found leaning against Jacob's bed, sitting on the floor as the both of you cackled at the animations playing on the screen.

Andy still hadn't came up to hush the both of you; and to be honest, you weren't sure to be relieved or disappointed. You settled for relieved once as you saw Scooby and Shaggy running away from a "monster."

It was half past ten when you finally got up from your spot on the floor, leaving Jacob to drunkenly slur at his phone while the tv played in the background. Getting up, you headed to the bathroom, careful not to make anymore sounds than you already had. You were too drunk to notice Andy standing outside his door, arms crossed as he amusingly stared at your little tip-toe walk to the bathroom.

You finished your business, washing your hands, and heading back to Jacob's room when you lost your footing and stumbled into Andy's arms. You yelped in alarm, glad for the muscular arms that caught you. Looking up, you saw what your drunk brain could only describe as Adonis. You smiled, patting his pec as you slurred. "Thank you, Mr. Barber."

"How drunk are you, sweetheart?" Andy asked, not letting you go. He felt you swaying slightly in his arms, bringing you closer to his chest until your face was only a couple of inches away from his. His eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue licking his own. "You look flushed."

Giggling, you couldn't help but grin at the human contact. You had been so sure he hated you, but from your current position, your assumption seemed silly. "You're making me blush. Me and Jacob haven't been drank—drinking that much, pinky swear."

He snickered at the tiny slip up with your grammar, the slowness and laziness in your voice evidence enough if it hadn't been for the burst of confidence, and shouts from Jacob's room. "You shouldn't be lying, especially to a lawyer. Let's get you sobered up, wouldn't want you waking up with a bitch of a hangover tomorrow, now would we?"

Andy places a hand on your back, his hand intertwining with yours as he tried to lead you downstairs safely but you halted in the middle of the hallway, laughing as you sneaked behind him. You tapped his shoulder, trying to push him down. "Gimme a piggy back ride, Mr. Barber. Like the ones you gave me when I was four!"

The lawyer burst out laughing, finding your drunk confidence adorable. He couldn't help but agree, squatting down enough for you to climb onto his back, your legs wrapping around his waist, your arms locking around his neck. Andy held your legs in place with his hands, shifting you upwards so you rested comfortably on his back. Turning his head, he raised an eyebrow. "You ready, princess?"

You nodded in response, your hair ticking his neck as you snuggled closer to his neck, nuzzling your cheek. All the alcohol had rushed to your head. Andy walked down the stairs, careful to keep his grip on you as he did so. He heard all the tiny giggles and gasps you made, his bad mood dissolving with each sound. He couldn't remember a time Laurie had made him that happy.

Reaching the kitchen, Andy sat you down on the kitchen island, reluctantly letting you go as he went to grab a glass of water. He gave you the glass, but you rejected it, too busy looking at the game on the tv, seeing past the arch and into the living room.

He set the glass on the counter, leaning against it as he crossed his arms, staring at the mesmerized—and drunk—girl in admiration. You turned your attention back on him as soon as the commercials rolled, catching him ogling you. Blushing, you giggled once again, waving him over.

Curious, Andy stepped towards you, surprised when you gripped the collar of his shirt, dragging him closer to you until he was only a couple of inches away. Leaning in, you whispered in his ear. "I have a secret."

"What is it?" Andy asked, one word away from kissing his son's best friend. The tension radiating from interaction had him weak, helpless from the very tempting chance to take you right there and then.

Cupping your hand around your lips, you felt him snake between your legs, bringing you even closer. With your lips near his ear, you whispered, "I have the biggest crush on you. Sometimes I wish you were single so I could ride you until I physically can't."

Andy growled, his hands digging into your waist as his lips hovered over yours, his blue eyes piercing yours. He murmured your name, so close to losing all of his control.

"Every time I come over, I hope you'd push me against a wall, rip my shirt off and fuck a baby in me." you confessed, loving his body warmth. His grip had tighten on you to the point it was borderline painful, but you relished in it, the alcohol numbing the rational thoughts in your head as they screamed at you to shut up.

The lawyer was so close to doing what you wanted, nearly taking you right there. But much to his dismay, his morals had held him back; surely all it would take would be another sentence murmured from your lips but he considered himself strong. "Sweetheart..."

Just as Andy's lips brushed over yours, loud, heavy footsteps made him pull away, spotting his son drunkenly enter the kitchen. You smiled brightly at Jacob as if you hadn't been about to kiss his father. Andy raised an eyebrow at his son, irritated for interrupting. "Jacob, what're you doing?"

"I—" the boy frowned, forgetting momentarily on what he was doing. Jacob pointed at you, returning a random wave. "I was looking for her, because I got worried she fell in the toilet or something."

"She's fine, I was just sobering her up." Andy answered before you could, reluctantly helping you off the table, wishing he had a few more minutes alone with you. "Don't let your mom see all those bottles when she gets home. She won't be lenient as I am."

Jacob saluted in response, watching his dad help his best friend off the table. He was too drunk to notice the longing looks you had exchanged with Andy. "Okay, dad. Night."

Andy stood in the kitchen, alone, watching his girl giggle at something his son whispered. With more confidence than ever, he pulled out the manila envelope from the kitchen drawer, placing it on the table. Laurie would find it when she comes back.

—

Newton, MA - July 4, 2021

"You're so fat." Jacob commented, eyes widening when he felt the baby kick. Without much thought, he invaded your personal space, placing his cheek against your stomach. You sighed, rolling your eyes at your best friend. Jacob chuckled. "This little guy is gonna be a soccer superstar. Like Cristiano Ronaldo."

Andy chuckled from the driver's seat, pulling into the driveway, pulling Jacob off your stomach and back to his seat. "Don't antagonize her, Jake. She might rip your head off for breathing the same air without her permission."

Childishly, you stuck your tongue, making your baby daddy burst out laughing before as he turned off the car and opened the door. But you could hardly say his comment was an exaggeration, grimacing at the memory of nearly snapping Andy's arm off when he had forgotten the almond milk from the weekly visits to the grocery store. It had been both a blessing and curse to have Jacob in the outs of the pregnancy when that incident occurred. You hadn't wanted him to see the growing bump.

With the help of both Barbers, you got out of the car, carefully and slowly for the sake for both you and the babies. The two were chatting as they unloaded the baggage from trunk while you made your way to the house, reminiscing in the days when Jacob's glances weren't filled with betrayal, as if you had ripped his heart from his chest.

It wasn't everyday he looked at you with that raw emotion in his eyes—the betrayed looks had started to decrease the more time you spent together—yet you still felt guilty. With a hand over your growing belly, you opened the door, bombarded with memories from childhood, once again reminding you who you were having a baby with.

Once Jacob had sprinted out of the room, in anger and denial after seeing his father tangled in bed with his best friend, you had pushed Andy off you, wanting to go after him. When Andy argued it was better off for Jacob to be alone, you had blamed him for everything, for ruining the lifelong friendship with Jacob and weeks of stress caused by sleeping with him the first time. The lawyer hadn't denied the guilt or blame like you thought he would—like you wished he would—instead drowning in the insults you threw his way.

You didn't start to forgive him until Jacob came back, but then loathed him after the your best friend announced he needed some time and space to think it out, uncertain which conclusion he would come to. Thankfully, he couldn't live without you in his life, no matter how hard he tried, so he came running back, wishing for an apology when all you wanted to do was cry and wish you didn't have to spend two months without him.

Andy, like the charming bastard he is, had slowly broke down the wall of bricks made from your anger and hatred, and unwillingly, you let him in. Jacob had explained, quite awkwardly, he should be in no way a problem to yours and Andy's relationship, only to be slapped by the pregnancy news. Surprisingly, he kept it light and took it well.

Unsurprisingly to Andy, the fetus (he had been very upset when you occasionally called the baby that) had been conceived on Thanksgiving, proving the plan B useless. You had given up any pretenses at that point, and gave in to Andy's precautions no matter how ridiculous they had been; safety for the fetus.

Your parents had been content with the excuses you've made, only a little suspicious on not wanting to see them during the months of carrying the baby. The baby boy to be precise. But the lack of visiting since college was consistent enough for them to not rise suspicions.

You settled down on the couch, exhausted by the road trip despite how short it was. Newton was hardly small, but with Andy's former title, it wouldn't be long before rumors spread, and with rumors came exaggerated stories along with middle-aged women judging your life decisions because they had nothing to do all day other than sit in their lazy asses.

Andy and Jacob set the bags down by the doorway, Jacob letting out a huge sigh while his dad walked over to you, kissing your forehead. You couldn't help but smile at the gesture. He sat beside you, leaving no room to breathe.

"Hello, gorgeous."

"Ugh." Jacob groaned, turning his eyes away from the PDA. "Okay, I'm gonna go before any more of this happens. I'll see you guys for dinner."

Before you could ask, Jacob closed the door, practically sprinting to his car. Seeing his father in bed with his best friend had scarred him. You turned your attention back to Andy, head tilting in confusion. "Where's he going?"

"He's giving me some alone time with you. Had to pay him a few bucks after he complained about stealing you, but he'll manage for the next couple of hours." Andy explained, his hands absentmindedly stroking your belly, his smile beaming.

"What's happening in the next couple of hours that he can't be here for?" you asked, curious. The blast of hormones had been a gift Andy knew he didn't deserve, with you crawling over his body in the earlier months of the pregnancy, waking him up with lips wrapped around his cock. With his precautions for the baby, he'd been a tease for the past few weeks with the due date just barely two months away.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head in amusement. "It's not that, sweetheart." Andy chuckled at your pout, disappointed by the outcome. "I just wanted to spend some time with you."

You knew there was something more, but you let it go, one thing at the front of your mind. Your fingers clawed at his shirt, biting your lip. "Then let's spend some time together." Leaning closer, you softly nipped at his earlobe, whispering in his ear. "Daddy."

Andy murmured your name, stern and sure but the bulge in his pants deemed a different story. That was enough for you to stop seducing him. "You're going to be the death of me."

Laughing, you turned the tv on, cuddling next to the soft man. Well, as close to cuddling as you could with the belly in the way. Your feet had been sore despite the not having to walk much all day, but the road trip had taken a lot of your already drained energy. Andy understood, gently taking off your shoes and massaging your feet until they no longer felt sore.

Two hours were wasted watching true crimes documentaries, Andy passionately commenting on the evidence they clearly had missed, and voicing his opinions of who was clearly guilty. You muffled a giggle, amused by the former lawyer. It still surprised you to see Andy so ... light? The forehead creases only coming together when something had displeased you, no matter how tiny. Retiring must've done something to relieve the stress he carried.

It wasn't until the third Buzzfeed Unsolved episode came on that you got tired. Andy, sending the change, muted the screen, pressing a soft kiss on your close eyelids. He positioned you so you were leaning against him, your back to him as you laid on the couch, a hand over your growing stomach. Anxiety seeped through his veins.

Andy cleared his throat. Playing with your hair, he said, "Marry me."

Your eyes snapped open, growing wide as you pondered if you had heard him right. "What?"

He shrugged. "Marry me."

Andy had said if so casually, it wasn't a question, but a statement. Or more accurately, a demand. You turned around, putting space between you two. Your eyes were hurting from the lack of blinking. "What?"

He reached in his pocket, the small, velvet box that had rested uncomfortably in his pocket took your breath away. Andy opened the box, revealing a diamond, far too beautiful to look at. His smile widened, taking in your shocked expression. "Please marry me."

A minute of silence passed.

"You're fucking insane." you whispered, staring intently at his blue eyes who were sparkling in excitement. He knew the outcome.

Andy's smile hadn't wavered. "Is that a yes?"

"No!" you shouted, getting up from the cough. He stood up, his arms ready to catch your unbalanced body. You glared at him. "I'm not going to marry you because I'm pregnant! No! No, no, no. I forbid you to ask me that question until this baby is out of me."

He laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist. "So, when I ask in two months ... ?"

"You'll just have to see." you murmured. A smug smirk fell on his face, but this one was warmer, more heartfelt.

"You'll say yes."

You shrugged, but couldn't help the smile appearing. "Probably."

< previous

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #steve rogers #captain america #reader insert #dub con #dark!andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #pregnancy #mentions of dubious element #under age #defending jacob #jacob barber #laurie barber #andy barber fanfiction

[sgwrscrsh]

winter days: underneath the tree

☁️a/n☁️ this made my heart very warm to write even though i pulled an all-nighter to get it done because my time-management has gone to shit after finals. requested by @sachirou-senpai​. thank you, ellie, for giving me a reason to bring back my boys. i’ve missed ‘summer on you’ so much. this can be read as a stand-alone or as a spin off of ending b, my fave. either way, merry christmas to my babes who celebrate! i have one more christmas fic for tmr and then i’m hiding away to plan + write an smau.

includes: female!reader, poly!seijoh four, post-timeskip (very minor manga spoilers), lots of domesticity, a little suggestive bit, a lot of eating and sleeping now that i realize, a christmas tree, matching pajamas, a very special christmas gift, makki slapping your ass once, a lil teary moment w tooru, homemade curry + pancakes (but not together), lots of cuddling, lots of love, happy holidays, 4.35k words

☁️masterlist☁️

shivering slightly, you unlock the door to the rather spacious apartment you shared with your four boyfriends later into the evening than you would’ve liked. 

yes, four boyfriends. whom you love very much and are loved by in return.

living with four towering hunks has it’s ups and downs, but you wouldn’t trade tooru’s extensive skin care regiment sprawled across the bathroom counter; hajime’s bag of protein powder that he always forgets to put away; issei’s boots that you always tripped over when you came through the front door; or takahiro’s costco-sized box of cream puffs in the freezer that he insisted he would finish by the end of the month, almost half a year ago, for the world.

you made sure to stomp off the snow stuck on your boots before entering the building, but you couldn’t help but sigh at the warmth that greets you once you toe them off.

“ahhh,” you think. “thank goodness tooru convinced us to invest in heated floors.” another perk of having four boyfriends was that two of them brought in enough bank for you to seriously consider becoming their cute little housewife. snorting, you shake your head, though the idea of prancing around in a maid outfit to tease them seemed very appealing. “maybe we should make hiro dress up and clean the house since he still hasn’t found a new job yet.” 

“what’s so funny, sweets?” speak of the devil. makki’s head pops out from the bathroom nearest to the front door, steam rolling out and droplets falling from his hair, signifying that he had just taken a hot shower. wordlessly, you stare at him, lost in thought imagining the water caressing his toned body, but a second later, he gets a better look at you and laughs. “you look like a wet dog!” your glare loses some of its edge when he takes in your own damp strands. 

“did someone say something about a dog?” tooru comes bounding round the corner, and you could’ve sworn he drooped a little when he realized it was just you in the hallway sans dog. turning your icy glance on the setter, you open your mouth to complain about how mean the two of them were being to you when your prince charming comes in to save the day.

“you two, stop bullying the poor girl and let her take a warm bath before she gets sick!” iwa chides as he helps you unbundle the layers that protected you from the snow and sharp winds of the winter. pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead and promising to pick out comfy clothes for you, he ushers you into your spacious en suite where a steaming tub full of rose petals awaits you. hajime chuckles at the starry eyes you give him, heart warming at the love and appreciation shining clear as day on your face, before he leaves to grab a clean pair of underwear, one of issei’s t-shirts, and a pair of his own sweats, knowing you much prefer to wear their clothes at home.

submerged in the bath, you exhale contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut as you enjoy the product of iwa’s consideration and foresight. letting the stress of work and the chill of the outdoors melt from you, you stay in the water until it cools and your fingers prune. a lone thought of how much more you would’ve enjoyed the bath if the boys had joined you flits through your mind, but you jolt when you open your eyes and find issei sitting on the counter with a towel and your robe in his lap, some of the water sloshing over the side of the tub. 

“oh thank god, i was scared you fell asleep and would drown or choke on a rose petal.” you giggle while he wraps you up in your robe before gently toweling your hair dry. “you can’t leave me to deal with the three of them alone.” 

rolling your eyes, you retort easily, “if anything, i’d feel bad about leaving hajime to deal with the three of you alone. the poor man puts up with enough from his team, he doesn’t need you guys ganging up on him, too.”

“well i’ll have you know, sometimes he really enjoys us ganging up on him.” his cheeky quip paired with his wiggling eyebrows earns him a smack on the chest but regardless, you let him sweep you up into his arms and drop you on the massive bed the five of you shared. “get dressed, babygirl. as much as i’d love to spend more time with you naked, i gotta help haji finish dinner.” with a quick peck on your lips, issei leaves you to do just as he said. 

emerging revitalized and relaxed, your mouth waters at the smell of homemade curry, distracted enough to not notice tooru’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and waist. 

“hey, cutie, i’ve missed you,” he sings, face snuggled into the junction of your shoulder and neck. you spin around in his hold to slip your arms around his slim torso, relishing his firm lines against your soft curves. 

“‘ve missed you too, tooru.” and you really did, grateful that all of you were able to take time off work and he was able to come home a week before the holidays, giving the five of you a whole month to spend together before he had to jet back to argentina for his next bout of training and practice games.

“hell yea! group hug!” makki comes running towards you guys, only for you to twist out of his reach at the last second, sending him straight into the sofa behind you. “oof, that was cold, y/n.”

you stick your tongue out at the strawberry boy. “yea, well that’s what you get for laughing at me when i got home. sucker.” still entangled in tooru’s embrace, you feel his body shake with mirth and bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from dissolving into giggles when you see a pout take over hiro’s pretty face.

“dinner’s ready,” comes iwa’s call, beckoning the three of you into the kitchen before you could antagonize each other some more. once you all got your servings of curry, you settle into your proclaimed seats on the large sofa, your body comically small compared to their tall frames dwarfing the cushions. noting the way tooru threw his long legs over iwa’s and how mattsun and makki leaned against each other as they ate, you fold your legs to tuck your feet under takahiro’s thigh and dig in to your meal with some trashy reality show lighting up the tv screen, completely certain that the warmth in your chest was from the company of your loved ones more so than the piping hot potatoes in your stomach.

during breakfast the next day, you blearily rub the sleep out of your eyes before taking a sip of your coffee, a satisfied “ahhh” escaping your parted lips as you lean against the kitchen counter. slowly peeling your eyelids open, you notice all of their gazes were focused on you. “yes? can i help you?” you ask amusedly, awake now that caffeine had be introduced to your tired body.

“how are you still so gorgeous in the morning?” you blink at the dreamy look on iwa’s face propped up in his hands with his elbows on the surface of the island. looking around, you see the other three matching the athletic trainer’s pose and expression next to him. thinking over your messy bedhead, mysteriously stained pajamas, and almost impressively dark eyebags, you want to scoff, but the unfairly handsome men giving you their undivided attention despite all of that (“because of all of that, y/n-chan,” tooru would argue) make you blush instead.

“you’re one to talk, haji,” you opt to remark, hoping to divert their focus from you and your rosy cheeks. “and don’t look at me like that,” your pointed finger swinging wildly between the four of them like the needle of a compass. “you already know you guys are way outta my league, you don’t need me to tell you that.” with one last flourish, you wave your hand dismissively before grabbing your mug with both hands, palms warming against the ceramic.

“as wrong as you are, you can’t blame us for wanting to hear the love of our lives compliment us first thing in the morning as we admire her natural beauty,” mattsun grins once he sees the success his words have at deepening the flush on your face. tooru nods gravely in agreement, but it’s makki’s one-two combo of a wink and an air kiss that breaks you. you roll your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh but release it immediately when the playful atmosphere takes a heady turn. clearing your throat, you pay no heed to their hungry expressions, knowing full well that they all noticed your little action and how they would react to it.

“a-anyways,” you stutter, “i’m gonna go get ready ‘cause i have things to do today so-” you try to slip by, leaving your empty cup in the sink, only to get caught in your tracks by hiro’s long arms. 

“ah, ah, ah, princess. and where do you think you’re going?” soon enough, you find yourself surrounded by your smoking hot boyfriends and heat up in anticipation of their next moves. 

“this so isn’t fair,” you complain aloud, though you were just as eager as they were to get you out of your worn sleep clothes. 

“tough shit, babygirl. guess you’re just gonna have to add four more things to your to-do list, huh?” 

naturally, you leave your errands for some day later in the week when you’re able to walk properly again.

the opportunity comes when you rise earlier than the rest of them, a rare occasion where you found yourself graced with the freedom of sleeping on the outside instead of being sandwiched in the middle of the bed. tiptoeing about, you brush your teeth and get dressed, somehow managing to not wake any of the sleeping beauties. you scribble little love-filled messages on post-it notes and stick them around your apartment on your way out, but not without one last soft smile in the direction of the bedroom, the sight of the four of them cuddled together through the door left ajar renewing your motivation to accomplish your tasks and come home sooner. 

with your laptop bag in tow, you set out for your first destination, settling into a corner booth at the coffee shop with a full cup and a pastry. once you finish your breakfast, you pull out your laptop and get to work, scouring the internet for the perfect gifts for your lovably imperfect partners. you rack your brain for any recollection of any moment where they would’ve let a potential present slip into conversation and light up when you come across volleyball print pajama pants. you check the availability of the sizes you needed and upon realizing that they were all in stock and would be delivered before christmas, you place your order without a moment’s hesitation. satisfied with your progress, you pull up the animal shelter’s hours before heading out of the cafe, the barista’s greetings and the jingling bells echoing behind you. 

by the time you return home, it’s late in the afternoon and you’re greeted by a wall of warm bodies as soon as you step through the front door. 

“where’ve you been, babe?” once again, takahiro is the first to meet your return, but this time he plants a sweet kiss on your lips with his long fingers encircling your waist after his inquiry. 

“oh, you know,” you sigh, dazed from the saccharine embrace. “out and about.”

“busy day? hope it was productive.” you nuzzle into tooru’s chest, feeling the timbre of his voice through your skin, and nod.

“as a matter of fact, it was.” their eyes soften at the proud grin stretched across your face. but your grumbling stomach just had to ruin the moment, making the three of you stare at each other before bursting out in chuckles.

“you skipped lunch?” oiks asks, wrapping each arm around yours and hiro’s waists and guiding you into the kitchen. you rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“i guess so? i didn’t really notice i was hungry until now.”

“good thing we saved your favorite from that chinese place down the street for you,” mattsun comes up behind you and lands a kiss on the crown of your head. you beam gratefully up at him and skip over to the fridge to retrieve the takeout.

“welcome home, love,” iwaizumi emerges from the bathroom to complete the set and gives you a once over. “you look tired.”

“gee thanks, hajime.” he rolls his eyes playfully at you while you wait for your food to heat up in the microwave.

“what time did you get up this morning?” 

“uhhh,” you start, mouth full. at iwa’s stern glare, you swallow before answering, “seven-ish? earlier than i would’ve like for a vacation day but it was worth it.”

“hm, well i’m glad you had a good day at least.” you shuffle over to kiss his cheek before dropping yourself on top of where tooru and hiro were cuddling on the sofa, eyes drifting around the room to take in the holiday decorations adorning the space.

“thanks, haji. but you’re right, i am sleepy.” suppressing a yawn, you lean back against the broad chests behind you and tuck back into the paper container. “can we take a nap once i’m done?”

“sure thing, babygirl.” the innocent smile mattsun sends your way turns mischievous with his added comment. “we really tuckered ourselves out while you were gone.” you nearly choke but makki’s hand thumping your back helps you dislodge whatever food got caught in your throat. iwa shakes his head and looks to the side in an attempt to hide his face, but the reddening tips of his ears give him away. meanwhile, oikawa catches your eye and winks.

“how else did you suppose we keep ourselves occupied when our baby wasn’t home?” you get up to toss your now empty container, shaking your head as you go. 

“i’m glad to see you at least got the christmas tree up before going at it. god, you’re all insatiable.”

“i mean, it’s hard not to be in this relationship,” hajime grumbles.

“aww, iwa,” makki pushes his lips into an overexaggerated pout. “you make me hard, too.” full-bellied chortles escape the four of you, ignoring iwaizumi’s indignant huffs.

“whatever,” comes his miffed reply, but you know he takes all your antics in stride. soon enough, he returns to the living room with a stack of blankets and finds you and issei added to the pile of limbs tooru and hiro founded. somehow, hajime situates himself to fit perfectly in your cuddle fest, blankets sprawled about to keep you warm.

one last yawn leaves your mouth before you mutter a sleepy, “night, guys. love you,” barely registering the quiet “love you”s you get in return as you drift off, the lights adorning your christmas tree twinkling above you.

christmas day, you wake up before the others again, this time more than willing to feign sleep and revel in the warmth of your shared bed. luckily, you don’t have to wait long for your boys to stir. sitting up, you stretch your arms above you head and begin to climb out of bed only to be caught by the wrist and dragged back down.

“haji, please,” you draw out. “we can finally open the presents under the tree!”

“i don’t care, it’s too early for you to leave me, princess.” you hum as he pulls you closer to him, revisiting your mental note that iwa is much more openly (and selfishly) affectionate in the mornings. 

“oi, the rest of us are still here you know.” face buried against tooru’s back, mattsun’s muffled complaint gets hajime to loosen his hold on you. 

“yea, yea,” he props himself up on his elbow to lean over you and kisses the former middle blocker’s temple. “unfortunately.”

“so mean, iwa-chan,” oikawa pipes up, stretching his arm across you to caress your boyfriend’s toned arm before lacing his fingers with makki’s. the pink haired man himself, still half-asleep, squeezes tooru’s hand before sitting up.

“hey, wait. it’s christmas, isn’t it?” takahiro’s question reminds you of the package you received a couple days prior, prompting you to spring out of bed before one of them could reel you back in. the four watch you rifle through the closet and resurface with the pajama pants you ordered.

“merry christmas!” you cry excitedly, tossing each boy their respective pair and eagerly awaiting their reactions. “they’re matching pj’s! look, i got one for myself, too.” thankful that you chose to go to bed in just one of iwa’s godzilla t-shirts and underwear last night, you rush to slip on your volleyball print pants. the boys take in your childlike joy, chests tightening at how precious you are. “hurry up, i want you to try them on so we can match!” at your insistence, they roll out of bed and dutifully don your gifts. 

“oh these are actually really soft,” tooru murmurs thoughtfully, fingering the fabric on his thigh.

“right?” you pipe up, nearly bouncing off the walls. “i wanted to do something to commemorate our first christmas together in this apartment and i thought these were really cute since volleyball is what brought us together in the first place.” eyes meet each other as you all reminisce that special summer, grateful that you stayed close despite your individual journeys after graduation.

suddenly, the doorbell ringing catches your attention. a brief glance at the clock on the bedside table tells you it’s much later in the morning than you though, but you’re quick to answer the door.

“who could that be?” the boys are left wondering, wandering out into the living room in time to see you wave goodbye to whoever it was with a large gift-wrapped box sitting on the floor next to you. 

“babe? who was it?” tooru is the first to ask the question on all of their minds. 

“oh, just my best friend. they wanted to drop this off on their way to their parents’ house.” you gingerly pick up the box and bring it to where your boys were waiting for you. “go ahead!”

“go ahead?” hajime parrots. 

“yea! open it!”

“it’s not for you?” takahiro ponders.

“well yes and no. c’mon just open it already!” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet at this point. tooru finally takes the initiative to remove the lid of the box, eyes widening when he sees what it hid.

“oh my gosh,” he breathes. the other three nearly knock heads with how quickly they lean over the opening.

“is that-?” a furry little head pops up over the edge of the box, round eyes peering up at the four of them.

“a dog! yes!” you squeal. “he’s a shelter dog!”

“he is?” hiro is in awe, slowly reaching out to cradle the little guy in his arms.

“i met him the other day when i woke up early and ran errands without you guys. isn’t he just the cutest?” big hands dwarf the small pooch as they gently pet his head and stroke his fur.

“does he have a name?” tooru has the good sense to ask. 

“mhm, the lady at the shelter said his previous owner named him ponyo.”

“ponyo…” issei whispered, eyes shining. 

“i know we’re nowhere near ready to start thinking about kids,” you start, the topic of the conversation instantly drawing their attention. tooru even ignored ponyo’s little tongue lapping at his fingers. “but i thought we could use an addition to our family.” 

“y/n, princess, we obviously all love him already, but we’re busy with work- well, most of us are. who’s gonna take care of him?” hajime questions, almost reluctantly.

“i mean, hiro is home all the time since he’s still unemployed (“i said i was looking, damn!”), but i actually got promoted so my schedule is way more flexible and i can work from home most of the time.” your voice trails off bashfully, but they give you no time to be embarrassed, swallowing you up in a huge hug. 

“why didn’t you say anything sooner, baby? we’re so proud of you!” now you know how the dog felt being smothered by their affection, not that it was anything new for you.

“uhh, surprise?”

“fuck yea, surprise! god, you’re incredible. lemme make a list of things we’ll need to get for ponyo once the stores reopen tomorrow.”

“actually…”

“you didn’t.”

“i did, with help from my best friend.” going into the lowest cupboards in the kitchen, you show off the bag of dog food and water and food bowls you bought soon after visiting the shelter. “his bed and crate are in the other closet by the washroom.”

“how did we get so lucky?” takahiro asks aloud, making you blush as the others nod in sync, all of them blown away by your thoughtfulness.

“this is nothing. i just wanted to show you guys how much i love you.” you play with your fingers, a little overwhelmed now that the initial excitement has worn off. “oh wait!”

“there’s more?” tooru asks, shocked.

“but wait, there’s more!” mattsun and makki chime in simultaneously, making you laugh as you retrieve the last present. you hop over to where tooru was sitting on the sofa with ponyo on his lap, scooping the dog up and locking the two of you in the bathroom. a couple minutes later, you open the door to let ponyo scurry over to his dads, who coo softly once they see him come around the sofa.

“when did you have time to do this?”

“my pants were a little long, so i hemmed them one night after you guys passed out on the sofa watching your old volleyball matches. i kinda guessed ponyo’s measurements based on standard info i found on the internet, but it fits perfectly so i’m glad!” looking at the little sweater you made for your new family member out of the extra fabric from your pj pants, you couldn’t stop the pleased grin that broke out on your face. “now even ponyo matches with us!”

while your gaze was trained on the tiny dog that was exploring his new home, theirs were stuck on you, your resemblance with a proud mother struck something in them, giving them thoughts of you with their children. yes, children. but for now they shoved those images to the backs of their minds, meeting each other’s stares to confirm they were all in silent agreement.

“we’re gonna make breakfast, you just sit there ‘n look pretty while you watch ponyo, yea?” issei announces before pulling you into a searing kiss as he walks by. 

“not that that’s hard for you,” iwa tags on, kissing your cheek and ruffling your hair following mattsun into the kitchen.

“but i’m always hard for you.” you yelp when hiro playfully slaps your ass, flipping him off as he trails after the other two with a loud hoot. tooru comes up behind you and rubs your sore cheek, spinning you around so that you were face to face.

“why’d you do this to me, y/n-chan?” you meet his frown with a confused look of your own. “now it’s gonna be even harder for me to go back to argentina.”

“oh, tooru,” you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to bring him close. “you have the next few weeks to spend with us and our new baby.” as if he knew you were talking about him, ponyo pads over to sit by your feet, tail wagging. oikawa sighs melodramatically.

“a few weeks is nothing compared to the months i’ll be gone!” 

“oi, shittykawa, you better not be complaining after everything this morning,” hajime hollers from the kitchen.

“love you, too, iwa-chan!” tooru calls back instinctively then he looks back down at you, his eyes giving away how much leaving will hurt him and it nearly makes you tear up with him.

“tooru, baby, it sucks every time you leave us, but you’re following your dreams and doing what you love. and we want to support you all the way, even if it means doing so from across the world. but with my new work schedule, i’ll be able to call or text you pretty much whenever. and just think how much sweeter it’ll be the next time you do come home to us. so don’t be too sad, okay, my love? we’ll all be here waiting for you.” 

as the last words leave your lips, tooru has you pulled flush against him, arms wrapped tight around your body. his face was hidden, but you could feel the sobs in hot breaths against your shoulder. you guided him over to the sofa and let him cry, petting his hair and peppering kisses on his tear-streaked face until he tired himself out. 

issei, hajime, and takahiro come out of the kitchen with stacks of pancakes and all the fixings, setting them down on the coffee table in front of you once they see tooru snoozing in your lap. iwa picks ponyo up before he could get a bite of your breakfast while you gently shake your boyfriend awake. mattsun and makki set up ponyo’s crate and bedding, leaving him with a toy to keep him occupied while the five of you filled up your plates.

sitting in the living room of the apartment you shared with your four boyfriends on christmas day, stuffing your face with fruit and whipped cream topped pancakes that they made, in matching pajamas with your new rescue dog scampering about, you couldn’t ask for a better gift underneath the tree.

taglist: @lovemeafterhrs​ @sachirou-senpai​ @honey-makki​ @kenmaki​

#skye writes fluff #seijoh four #seijoh third years #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu poly #haikyuu post time skip #skye writes a series #summer on you: the series