#AND THEN SHE WAS LIKE ‘ok maybe his forties’ like Girl Best Friend that is a bonafide GEEZER right there

[todayisafridaynight]

in todays edition of Things My Friend Says she thinks adachi looks 36

[zweiginator]

ok ok good cuz i am NOT done talking about college!artrick, it's literally my favorite version of them atm. (potential tw: dubcon and drugs 😵‍💫)

i need to be so fucked up/out that i'm unable to do anything, just totally limp. idgaf if it's from like overstimulation, weed, too many cocktails, or just like being fucked so good my brain turns off. completely helpless and at their mercy, y'know. need to have art and pat grab my jaw and nod my head for me, i'm too weak to do it by myself. :(((( but it's okey, they know what i want, they know what's right for me 😵‍💫

maybe it's them teaching me how to smoke weed and i just get waaaaaay too high. i was havign a hard time learning how to do the inhale properly, and they insist on repeating it until i get it right, and suddenly it's just too much too fast. and they just have to take care of me!!!!

and poor baby, my little pussy is so wet, she's crying for attention :((( they should help her shouldn't they, we wouldn't want her to cry? look at her so sad and lonely, bet she feels so empty doesn't she baby? she just wants some attention, huh? i'm too gone to properly give them an answer, but they know what i want, theyll nod my head for me :((((( RRRRAAAAAHHHHHH

-🐞

cw: noncon stuff, somno stuff, drug usage

college!artrick who quickly became your best friends. it was unconventional, at first. art had hit on you at the run-down bar that had since closed. and patrick, being the good samaritan and even better wing man slash best friend that he was — told you to go for it. to ditch your stupid asshole boyfriend that he mentioned hadn’t even bought you a drink. to fuck art.

“it’s truly harmless.” and your boyfriend was a douchebag. he hadn’t bought you a single drink but was nursing on his sixth beer. watching your empty hands and then turning to his equally awful friends to loudly ogle women that would never give them a second look.

art was sheepish and didn’t look at you. but obviously, patrick had gotten the idea of art wanting you from somewhere. so you squeezed in between them and nudged art’s shoulder and tried to get him to come out of his shell.

“he’s weird when he smokes weed.” patrick whispered in your ear and smoking a joint sounded way fucking better than swiveling on an unoiled barstool off campus in uncomfortable heels.

“do you have some?”

art looked high and he smiled at you for the first time since you met them. he pulled a little baggy from his jeans and nodded his head towards the door.

“can we go to your place?” patrick asked. he explained how he was visiting, how art was on the tennis team and his roommates slash teammates—one of which who was the coach’s son—were major fucking snitches. so it really had to be at your place.

you rolled your eyes and agreed that they could come over.

and they sat on the balcony all night with you. forty three missed calls from your boyfriend didn’t cajole you from the trance you were in with them. of course, they were hot. and the humidity was suffocating even past midnight. so of course, their shirts hung over the railing of your balcony as the three of you passed a joint around, leaning forward in plastic green lawn chairs, splintered and uncomfortable on your asses.

your high was heady, and patrick was feeling bold.

“if you’re not gonna make a move then i will.”

so patrick kissed you. it was a parched and awkward kiss at first; you both were dizzy from too much weed, your mouths awfully dry. but then art joined and his kisses were sloppy, his tongue prodding into the corner of your mouth until you grabbed his hair and kissed him proper. patrick sat back and reveled in his creation, swigging a beer he stole from the fridge.

and your relationship with both of them just sort of remained stagnant.

you had long since dumped your boyfriend after he told you he fucked a blond sorority girl that night you had met the boys. you just shrugged and told him it was whatever—you made out with two tennis players anyway.

and people around campus had come up with filthy rumors and lies. patrick didn’t live in town. people conjured up fantasies about patrick being a prostitute. that art was a goody two shoes and wouldn’t fuck you so he paid someone else to.

it got so tiring that art had confronted his team and coach about it, after it had gotten to them. said his relationship with you was none of their business, but slammed down an old photo of him and patrick when they were kids at the tennis academy, their cheeks plump and red from the sun, a racket in each of their grasps.

it wasn’t until one friday night that everything between the three of you changed. the ticking time bomb’s fuse had finally burnt to its end. patrick was back in town for the weekend and art was excited about it. he hadn’t been there since that fateful first weekend.

your roommates were out of town, too. so it was perfect. art picked patrick up from the airport and brought him to your place. you found it odd that the first place they would go was to your apartment. but you let them in nonetheless.

“what is your plan for the night?” you asked.

art took a shitty bong out of his backpack and a bag of weed.

“just smoking? there’s nothing else you wanna do?”

the boys shook their heads like there was some ulterior motive controlling their movements.

“okay, alright.”

so you smoked. and before you had hung out with art and patrick that one night, you really hadn’t smoked all that much before. you saw art’s bloodshot eyes as a way out of the shitty bar with your boring boyfriend and you took it. you had coughed your way through the joint last time—but the bong was intimidating.

“how do you use it?” you looked at the stem of it; it was nasty and you had already given art shit for it.

“what do you mean? i thought you were a huge stoner chick?” patrick said, between coughs.

“i never said that. i dabble but pretty infrequently.”

you were sat in between them and both their sets of eyes flickered from the expanse of your neck, to your eyes, down to your lips again. a cycle of ogling you that you dismissed. and as you grabbed the bong they shook their head.

“that’s gonna make you cough like a bitch.” art warned.

“probably enough to make you nauseous.” patrick was seemingly parroting every point art was offering in favor of not using the bong.

“then what do i do?”

they said they could help you by shotgunning it into your mouth. and you had somewhat heard of that but you said that would be okay. you watched patrick light up while art sucked the smoke into his lungs. he grabbed the back of your head to pull you in and then the smoke was in your mouth.

“inhale it.”

and you did what he said, but you felt yourself stumbling over your sandals as you mounted him, still sat in the wobbly lawn chairs that could barely support the two of you.

art grabbed your waist and pulled you in by your belt loops. he was sunken in eyes, puffy and half-shut. he was chapped lips, which you licked for him. he was shoving his tongue into your mouth and you were grabbing his jaw to maneuver him how you wanted him and patrick just watched.

“your turn.” you turned to patrick, and art reached for you to stay. but then patrick took a hit with art’s kind help. and he repeated everything art did. grabbed you and pulled you to him. pushed the dank smoke into your mouth and ordered you to breathe it in.

you were so high and dizzy. outside of your body. you kissed patrick too, clawing at his chest and grinding yourself down on his very obvious erection. you were certain people could see you if your neighbors were out on their own balconies.

so you stumbled inside and into your room. patrick slammed the door and didn’t bother locking because it didn’t matter. art was on his knees, taking your sandals off. you could barely keep your eyes open but you could feel your cunt weeping with arousal. you wanted them so bad and you mumbled that as you fell on your back onto your bed.

art looked at patrick. patrick looked at art.

“what’d you say, sweet girl?” patrick stroked your cheek and pushed his thumb into your mouth. you sucked it, hallowing your cheeks.

“i want you guys.” you mumbled it softly, but that was enough for art, still on his knees, to yank your shorts down your legs.

you flipped onto your stomach and the boys looked at how your ass moved, still in your little pink panties. art kissed your lower back, your plump ass cheek. it was patrick’s turn to undress you, so he shimmied your panties down your legs and they stared at your cunt.

glistening, warm, inviting. patrick spread your legs further and you moaned. let them.

“fucking shit.” art ran his thumb through your folds. “she’s so fucking wet.”

patrick did it himself, confirming art’s conclusion.

art petted your hair. “your little pussy’s so wet.”

“i know.” you nestled your head further into the pillow.

“i bet she wants to be filled up.” patrick offered.

you nodded. it was faint, but a nod.

patrick hurried to pull his jeans down, letting his cock spring out.

but now your body was limp as you fell asleep. drool pooled onto your pillow and patrick rocked against your cunt.

“wake up pretty girl.” art shook your shoulders and you moaned.

"hm?" you giggled and art kissed you hard.

"do you want us to fuck you? fill your little pussy? she looks like she really wants it." art cooed in your ear.

"mm. yes."

patrick pulled your hips up and pushed into your cunt, using the flesh of your ass as leverage as his thrusts got harder and deeper. your body rocked forward and soft mewls and whimpers left your mouth. but god, you were so, so sleepy. just felt heavy from the weed. from the weight of patrick on top of you as he reached around to rub your clit.

you clenched around patrick.

“that feel good?” patrick groaned against your ear and you let out a tiny, almost indiscernible whimper. patrick grabbed your jaw, nodded for you.

“fuck—baby—“ his thrusts got sloppier and art was still hard.

so he pushed his boxers down and stroked his cock. up and down. up and down. you were dozing in and out of sleep; they could tell when you came to due to your sweet, saccharine moans that were pushed out of you when patrick’s cock was in you, to the hilt.

“fuck you make me so hard.” art rubbed the head of his cock against your lips. so plush. drool running out from between them. his precum leaked on your mouth and he used it as lubricant to rub himself all over your lips, your cheeks, your face.

“artie-“ you whimpered and stuck your tongue out. you still could barely open your eyes; they felt glued shut. would be easier to keep them shut.

art held the back of your head and fucked his cock into your mouth slowly.

“good fuckin’ girl.”

you sputtered around him and your eyes watered as art jerked himself into your mouth, using you. but your sounds of contentedness fueled them. your poor, limp body so high and outside of yourself. your best friends wouldn’t want you to be so empty, so alone like this.

patrick came on your back and art on your face and then they were spent and all three of you fell asleep, after they wiped you clean.

[skyteller143]

TILL DEATH DO US PART (1) • C.STURNIOLO

PARTS: 2

warnings: swearing, school😔💔

authors note: kinda shit but yk it gets better js stick around

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summary: the most popular girl in school being known as a goody-too-shoes and the captain of the schools hockey team end up sitting with each other in class, she hates him and he hates her. until one day everything changes.

but remember, not every story has a happy ending.

enjoyyy

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People wish to be popular. They wish for the crazy parties and all the “friends” that comes with it. But this makes me wonder do they wish for the secrets that are kept, do they wish for the bitchy glances that you get given simply because you walked past. do they wish for the eyes that are always on them.

But it’s clear that they don’t care about that. they care about the attention and so called fame that they desire so desperately they’d practically trade their soul for it.

it’s the first day back from summer break and i woke up at practically sunrise just to make sure that the stares aren’t as judgemental. doing my hair and makeup, picking out about 5 outfits before finding a good one. gosh sometimes i wish i could trade lives with someone who wasn’t a cheerleader and i could go to school wearing sweatpants, not worrying about being watched.

my outfit was a skimpy black skirt matched with a white crop top and a black puffy jacket. i straightened my hair and did my normal makeup.

since it was the first day back my schedule had changed meaning i was in all new classes. great.

when i got to school i met up with my best friend ivy and we caught up about what happened over the summer.

“yeah and then vacation boy asked for my snap” ivy rambled on “butttt i had to turn him down because he was like 25 but he was so fine” she giggled leaning on me a little as we stood at our lockers. Me and ivy had been friends since middle school we always had our lockers next to each other. well that was until this year.

“oh our lockers are one apart” ivy mumbled opening her locker. “huh” i looked down at the paper i had been given “oh”.

“bummer i wonder who is gonna be our locker buddy this year, maybe they could like be our new best friend!” she jumped excitedly. “yeah maybe” i laughed at her, she looked like a kid in a candy store. “ok we’ll i gotta get going meet me here at lunch” she walked backwards facing me for my reply. “yep! of course” i laughed.

i reached into my bag getting out a few books and pictures to put in my locker. when i was finished i headed to class. i sat in the back corner and put my headphones in. it’s too early for this. i made sure to sit by myself so i wouldn’t have to deal with some weirdo yapping my ear off for an hour and forty minutes. since it was the first lesson we were just meant to be meeting new people and interacting. however i already knew everyone in here so what’s the point?

about five minutes in everyone had stopped talking and the teacher was explaining what we would be doing this year when the door swung open and some boy walked in. i honestly couldn’t care less who he was so i continued jotting down notes when he sat down. next to me. i looked up to see who it was and rolled my eyes. of course the captain of the hockey team decided ‘oh yeah let’s sit right next to the only cheerleader in the room, she’ll love that.’

he huffed as he leant in his seat, crossing his arms. i looked at him to see he looked pissed off and i noticed that every other seat was full. oh.

i turned my music up and just kept to myself when he taps my shoulder. “what you listening to?” he asks. “music” i reply dryly hoping he’d just leave me alone. “no wayyy” he smirks “let me listen” he puts his hand out as if i’m a dog.

“first off, no. second off why would i share with you i don’t even know you” i rolled my eyes. “oh princess everyone knows me and you definitely do being cheer captain and all” he smirks at me. “oh yeah Chris i’m in love with you here have my airpod” i say sarcastically “oh come on just give it” he begs like a child, “i know you secretly love me” he laughs. “the only thing i know is that your ego is bigger then you dick baby” i pout at him and out my airpod back in. that shut him up.

after class i went back to my locker to meet ivy and i see that our new locker buddy is there. “hey” i call out to see who it was. “what do you want” they reply.

you’ve gotta be kidding me.

“why are you just standing there looking like an idiot, did you want something?” he asked clearly still annoyed about earlier. “no i was going to my locker” i mumble.

after about like 30 seconds of silence i speak up. “soo, this your locker?” what a stupid question.

“noo, i’m just putting my stuff in here for someone else” he reply’s sarcastically.

“jeez don’t get your titties in a twist, was just asking” i laugh slightly trying to ease some tension.

he slams his locker door and leans down so he’s closer to my face. “at least i have some” he smiles and walks away.

cunt.

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feisty

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taglist (if you wanna be added js comment and i’ll add you): @lacysturniolo @breeloveschris

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[starpearlz]

Seven minutes -> Nikki Sixx

Summary -> 1975, you never expected to see an old classmate at a party especially be locked in a room with him for seven minutes.

Warnings -> says his old name once, making out but nothing too bad,

A/n -> I’m working on my request but I really wanted to right something for Nikki

2.0k words

Your intention was not to kiss him, but fate was chosen for you. You only live once especially just being seventeen, high school is either one of the shitiest, or the best years of your life. Your peak. No matter how bad it is, you’ll always remember those high school party.

Underage drinking, skinny dipping in the pool, people hooking up left and right, and stupid party games. You laid on your bed reading with the bright light from your new candle you had gotten earlier. You looked up to the sound of knocking, “go to sleep soon ok?” you nodded as she closed the door. No way, Linda said their was a party downtown.

You blew out your candle and climbed out your window. You would take your car, but you decided to ride your bike; just so your parents wouldn’t hear the car. You chuckled remembering the story your mom said how she got sneaking out with your grandmas car when she was in high school. Yeah, you’re not making the same mistake.

You finally pulled up to the house, wasn’t too long of a ride. But they lived on a hill, you put your bike near a bush hiding it and walking to the porch. It was a really nice house.. it was one of those houses that had big glass windows, maybe four bathrooms and a nice pool. Kids were coming in and out of the house you can tell it’s gonna be a god party by seeing red plastic cups.

You walked inside it was crowded with people you even saw two people making out on the stairs while two people were trying to get by. You walked down the hall to the kitchen and noticed Linda standing near the counter talking to someone, she may look like the sweet girl who makes cookies for a nursing home, but man she can party. “Linda!” I yelled out walking to her, she turned and started waving at you and gave a signal to go over.

You walked over too see that she was talking to some guy with a stubble who stood next to another guy with long brown hair. “Hey!” She yelled over the loud music before squeezing you into a hug. “This is Jasper, the guy I told you about! And this is his friend Nikki!” ‘Jasper’ hands were crossed as he gave a awkward wave. You looked at Nikki and pointed to him, “oh yeah I remember, we had a class together last year.. Frank!” He gave a shy smile, nodding his head looking down an the floor.

“Yeah.. I go by Nikki now.” He said looking back at you and you nodded “cool.” He nodded back as some girl grabbed Linda shoulders from behind. “Come on we’re playing spin the bottle!” You looked at Linda as she nodded grabbing your hand. You looked at Nikki, he looked back confused you shrugged following her.

You followed Linda into the living room, three guys were moving the small glass table while two girls started sitting on the floor. Linda sat down and you sat next to her. Next thing you knew their were a bunch of people that made a circle. You didn’t know the guy that sat next to you, you saw he had a letterman jacket and you could smell the alcohol on him.

You looked forward and saw Nikki in front of you as you smiled at him. “Whoever spins the bottle and whoever it’s pointed at has to go upstairs in the master bedroom for seven minutes.” People started whispering to each other until one guy got up and spun the bottle. The only bad part about this game is having too fully wait those seven minutes.

It’s already about forty minutes into the game, and the only interesting thing that’s happened is two guys getting each other. “Who’s next?” A blonde girl asked, your guessing that it’s the host. You looked forward hearing the sound of laughter, you saw Jasper laughing throwing Nikki’s hand up. He quickly shoved his hand down, “no give it a shot.” The blonde girl said getting up and passing him the bottle.

You couldn’t see his expression from the girl blocking your view, but his expression said it all s as she walked away. He crawled to the center and spun the bottle. The bottle spun slowly in suspense as it started to slowly stop.. to you. You looked up at him in shock, same as him. “Go on love birds!” The blonde girl said as Linda gave you a slight shove to go.

You two walked upstairs with the blonde girl leading the way. She pulled out a key and opened the door, when she opened the door you saw two girls making out. Making the blonde girl laugh loudly as the two ran out. She held out her hand as a motion for us to get in. The bed was huge taking up most of the room. You noticed the decorations wooden bed, a wooden desk and you even saw a deer head in the corner of the room. It would’ve creeped you out but it made you chuckle because someone threw a bra on it. You got in sitting the the corner of the bed and he sat next to you. The girl chuckled “have fun..” she said smirking closing the door and locking it.

“Seven minutes!” She yelled outside the door walking away. You sighed at the awkward tension in the room, you looked at him. “I’m sorry.. I know you didn’t want to do this…” you said maybe to relieve the tension. He shook his head “no it’s ok.. I’m happy it’s you rather than anyone else.” Your eyebrows furrowed is confusion, “why?” You said looking at him.

“Well.. you’re nice, I would’ve hated if I got someone like Michael..” he said shyly. He’s not wrong tho, Mike was a real asshole. “Well.. I’m happy I’m with you too.” You said smiling at him moving closer to where your knees were touching. “So.. why are you here?” You asked him as he took a sip out of his red cup, you didn’t even realize he brought it. “Free jack.” He said bluntly putting it on the wooden nightstand.

“Wait are you drinking straight up Jack?” He nodded as if it’s nothing making you chuckle. “That’s badass.” You said without even thinking, he shook his head “you’re pretty badass yourself.” You rolled your eyes. “Not even..” you said chuckling and he nodded “you are, like at the diner how you make those badass doodles.”

You looked at him in confusion, “how did you know that? I would’ve remembered you, I would’ve said hi!” He nodded, “I’ve only been there a couple times.. but you’ve never served me before.” You gave him a look, “that’s crazy.. I have to give you my number so I can tell you when my next shift is.” He gulped nodding, “I’ll.. I’ll definitely go then.” He said smiling.

You nodded smiling, “well, I’ll be waiting then..” you just realized how close you are too him, you can smell the booze on his lips. You bit your lip, you want to kiss him but at the same time you don’t know if he dose. He closed the gap kissing you slowly, almost like if was hesitant. You leaned more into the kiss you wrapped one of your arms around his neck and cupped his cheek.

You leaning in the kiss making him assertive, he put his hands on your hip and you slowly put your back on bed. You put your arm that was on his neck and wrapped your hand in his brown hair. He got a boost of confidence and started kissing you harder. You moaned in the kiss brushing through his soft hair, you opened your eyes and saw he was staring at you.

You freaked out and pulled away fast, making him think he messed up. “What— what’s wrong?” He asked slightly scared. As you started giggling, “nothing wrong, I wasn’t expecting you too have your eyes open..” you said still giggling. “I’m sorry..” you shook your head, “I know you have definitely kissed someone before.. just relax.” You said before kissing him again making sure his eyes closed.

Your have still tangled in his hair cupping his cheek. He moved his hands down to your ass fondling with them as you gave out a shocked moan. For him being so nervous earlier he sure is getting more confident. He pushed his tongue inside your mouth making you moan again.

He pulled away from you making you open your eyes gasping until he started kissing down your face. You picked up your head as he started sucking on your neck making you moan softly. “Nikki..” you moaned out. You can feel him marking up your neck. He moved his face and you saw his flushed face heavily breathing making you smile.

He smiled in confusion “what?” You shook your head. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize how pretty you are..” he rolled his eyes. “I should be telling you that.” He said before kissing you again. But this time it was slow and sweet. He pulled away again, “you want to know a secret?” He asked still out of breath.

“What?” You asked smirking amused. He bit his lip smiling. “I remember..” he stopped to chuckle making you scoff and gently nudged his shoulder, “what? What do you remember?” Your asked bending your elbow so you can stare at him. He sighed before staring back at you, “remember how you said that last year we had the class together?”

You nodded, you drank but you didn’t drink that much to not remember that conversation forty minutes ago. “I remember.. how much of a crush I had on you in that class.” You looked at him in shock and confusion, “really?” You asked softly making him nod. “I remember I saw you reading.. and seeing you in a ‘Black Sabbath’ shirt, and I thought you were the prettiest and sickest girl I’ve ever seen..” you two chuckled. “And then I found out you had worked at the dinner.. I only went two times, and one of them you weren’t even working.” He bit his lip debating on if he should keep going but he saw how happy you had gotten.

“And when I was there when you were working you were on break.. and I sat in the booth near the door, and I saw you sitting on the table close to the employee door. I was gonna walk up too you but, you looked so peaceful, just drawing your heart away. I felt like a creep for staring so I just left.”

You shook your head “you should’ve said hi, I would’ve been so happy.. and I don’t think you’re a creep.. the opposite even.” You said smiling at him cupping his cheek as he smiled back. You pulled him in again kissing him passionately. You giggled in the kiss going back to laying on your back.

Then the door slammed open as you gasped getting up. You saw the blonde girl again with Jasper and Linda. “It looked liked you two had fun.” Linda said it in a teasing way. Making you roll your eyes standing up, same with Nikki. “Are you two going next?” You asked to Linda and Jasper as she nodded.

You nodded too grabbing Nikki’s hand to walk out the door. “Oh wait,” Nikki said making you stop before your fully out the door. “Is it ok if I leave already?” Nikki asked Jasper as he nodded. “Have fun!” Linda said to you as Nikki grabbed your hand again. “You too!” You said before blondie closed the door.

“Where do you want to go?” Nikki asked making you think, “I could go for some pancakes at the diner.” Making Nikki chuckle kissing you. “You read my mind.”

[creative-heart]

"My thoughts will echo your name"| Esteban Kukuriczka

Chapter four: "No one has to know what we do."

Lucia’s notes: First off, I’m so sorry about last chapter, might have been a bit of a downer, but I trust me, it’s gonna get better soon. We’re back to the usual POV now. BTW the playlist “my hot girl revenge era” really exists on Spotify and it’s amazing.

+18 ONLY: If you’re no interested in reading the smutty part, please stop reading at “Whatever you say babygirl”; you can go back to reading at the next cut.

Playlist: 

Bejeweled- Taylor Swift

Wildest dreams- Taylor Swift

Could you love me when I hate myself- Lily McAlpine

Love in the dark- Adele

August- Taylor Swift

Starving- Hailee Steinfeld.

Ready for it- Taylor Swift

Content Warnings: Some not too heavy smut, mainly a makeout session; Social Drinking; mention to smoking.

Word Count: 2.4k

Five days, five whole days had gone by since that night when Y/N had told Lucas to leave the apartment, not one single text or call to check how she was doing, much less him coming home and as much as the hazel eyed woman wanted to pretend like it didn’t hurt her, truth is she had been laying on the couch in her pj’s without moving, just watching Grey’s Anatomy for the fifth time. Y/N was curled up on the couch one evening when she heard the front door but she stayed in the way she was, not enough energy to move to see who it was, coming into her place. “Oh. My. God, babe….nuh, hell no, you need to get your shit together” she heard the voice of her best friend Gabriel coming in from the living room’s threshold as the tall guy made his way to her pulling the blanket off of her and turning the tv off she whined.

“Gabi, nooo. let me, I’m in the best part” Y/N protested pointing at the tv without looking at the arched brow on the black haired guy.

“You know Grey’s by heart, don’t know what this fucker did now, but I’m taking you out, you haven’t answered to my calls or texts in days, come on” as she reluctantly let her friend pick her up from the couch and walk her to the bathroom “also, you smell, and your hair is so greasy I can fry an egg on your head, you’re not this, come on, you take an all in all shower and I’ll make you something to eat, we’re going out tonight bitch” he smiled turning around and going straight to the kitchen after leaving Y/N to stare at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. As she took her image in, she rubbed her face and stepped into the shower letting the steaming water run through her body washing that week off her body, mind and soul; maybe Gabriel was right and going out would be good to her, after all, it was clear that Lucas wasn’t thinking about her, so why should she be sulking over that wanker.

Forty minutes later, she finished blowdrying and styling her hair, her staple beach waves adorning her strawberry blonde locks, she took her makeup bag out and looked at her friend who came into the room with a sandwich just as she said “Alexa, play my hot girl revenge era playlist” as …Ready for it? by Taylor Swift started playing through the speaker Gabriel handed her the plate. “This is my bad bitch bestie!” he smiled turning around to look at the outfit laid out on the bed “damn, red lace top, leather pants and jacket, you going out to eat! I love” Y/N chuckled as she ate her sandwich while doing her makeup. Once they were ready they ordered an Uber and headed out.

“Ok, so…you know how I am obsessed with Andy from La sociedad de la nieve? well, I saw he will be at this club tonight, so, that’s where we’re going, I ain’t asking, just letting ya know mkay?” Y/N chuckled softly nodding knowing that if Andy was there, there was a chance that Esteban would be and she bit the inside of her lip, because why did the thought of kuku being there made her insides flutter and the heat rise in her whole body, she hadn’t told Gabriel about the whole Esteban thing tho, and she decided to keep it that way.

“I’m gonna get so drunk tonight” Y/N chuckled as they got out of the uber before making their way inside with the passes Gabriel had secured for them. As soon as the blonde set foot in the club, she headed to the bar to get herself a drink needing to keep her mind quiet only knowing that way to do it. Y/N rested against the bar looking out into the dancefloor as she downed her mojito, searching for her first victim, determined as she was to two things, get herself drunk, and secure a hot man to make her forget about the fact that the man she had loved for 5 years had all but forgotten about her in the last week. She knew she was the one who had told him to leave, but Y/N never thought he wouldn’t come back after that night, they might be in a horrible spot, but Lucas was still her boyfriend, and in some way she still loved him, or maybe it was just the comfort of knowing what it was like.

As soon as Esteban walked into the club with the guys later that night, he could see Y/N. She was up on a table dancing and immediately a mixture of feelings cursed through his blood. A perfect combination of lust, desire, rage at seeing how the other men around her gawked and touched her legs and protectiveness over the fact that she was clearly intoxicated, the cigarette hanging from her lips quite a sexy sight as she moved to the beat of the music. Without even hesitating about it, he made his way across the dancefloor swiftly, he didn’t give a flying fuck anymore about Lucas, if he wasn’t going to take care of her, he would. When he got up to the table where Y/N was he pushed the men aside and looked at her “Y/N can you please get down from that table?” he held his hand out for her. When Y/N heard that voice over the music she knew exactly who it belonged to, only Esteban’s voice could send a jolt of electricity down her spine straight to her center and she turned around to face him shaking her head moving down just so she was at his level.

“Now…why would I handsome? can’t you see how many gentleman are offering to get me drinks?” she smirked whispering in his ear biting her lower lip as she moved in front of her face stopping just mere inches away from his, staring down into his eyes and kuku swore she could see right into his soul, those Hazel orbs were so deep and entrancing. Before she could get away he picked Y/N up in his arms, his hands resting on the back of her thighs just below her ass cheeks and put her down from the table walking away. “Esteban put me down” the girl said in a tone she hoped to be firm and demanding but that much against her will came out breathy and whiny. Once they were far enough from that table and closer to the rest of the guys the brown eye guy let her down purposefully running his hands up Y/N’s sides which caused a new wave of electricty and goosebumps to course through the younger one’s body.

“Whatever you say babygirl” Esteban said looking straight into Y/N’s eyes his hands resting on the girl’s exposed waist. Her skin is as soft and warm as he had dreamt it would be. His eyes switching between the blonde girl’s eyes and lips as she spoke, not that he could hear what she was really saying all he was really thinking about was how much he wanted to kiss her right now, press her against his body and finally taste her lips. As Y/N kept complaining about what a killjoy he had been for taking her down from the table she found herself quite intoxicated, not only by the booze running thought her bloodstream but also by the taller guy’s perfume flooding her senses, she couldn’t think straight, his hands were still on her waist, her boobs pressed to his chest and she could see how dark his eyes were while looking at her.

Y/N didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that she couldn’t deny anymore how hot Kuku was but she grabbed his shirt in her fists to pull him down to her crushing her lips to his, her eyes fluttered closed and she felt the sigh escape from the eldest lips and she took the chance to deepen the kiss as they started fighting for dominance in the kiss. Esteban’s hands slowly moved around exploring Y/N’s body at the same time as he pulled her closer to him if that was even a possibility, the soft moans escaping the girl’s lips taking his chance to tug on her lip as he pushed her up against a nearby wall her hands wrapping around his neck holding him closer to her as his lips trailed down her jaw to her neck slowly kissing all over, each touch setting a fire on her skin that lingered after he had moved on to the next. When kuku placed a kiss onto the spot right under Y/N’s ear she moaned into his ear closing her eyes as she could feel the smirk on his face right before he bit down on it gently.

Before Y/N could even stop herself she pressed her center to his, eager to feel as much of him as she could without taking their clothes off, but as soon as kuku felt her doing that his hands went back to her hips and he pulled himself apart a bit biting his lip, their breathing heavy and irregular with desire and need. He looked at the girl and leaned in whispering in her ear “as much as this is turning me on, and no matter how much I wanna take you home and fuck you right now, you’re one, quite drunk, and two, still my friend’s girlfriend as far as I know, and no matter how much of a douchebag he may be, I won’t do that” kuku rested his forehead against hers closing his eyes and while Y/N wanted to hit him for cutting of the moment like that, the fact that he was so respectful made whatever she was feeling inside her at the moment for him, grow stronger and she nodded looking at every single one of his freckles.

When Esteban pulled up outside of Y/N’s place he turned around to find her looking at him “wanna come in for a cup of coffee?” she smiled softly, her eyes still slanted from the alcohol pumping through her “I swear I won’t try to jump your bones…not that I don’t want to” she whispered the last part hopefully quiet enough to not be heard by the elder guy, but judging by his smirk, she hadn’t been successful “I just wanna thank you for bringing me home, plus I think you could use the caffeine”.

The brunette nodded getting out of the car with her and locking it before walking into her place as he looked around “so…Lucas isn’t here?” As soon as she had stepped foot into her home Y/N remembered the state of the place and hurriedly picked up around so that it wouldn’t look too messy shaking her head “no….truth is….he hasn’t been here for the past 5 days” she bit her lip hard as admitting it outloud made it all the more real. Once she had thrown everything out of sight she went to start the coffee pot and rested against the countertop looking at kuku, was that a slight smile she saw on his face?

“Have you two…broken up then?” He knew he shouldn’t be this happy over this possibility, a break up is always shitty but he couldn’t help but feel at least hopeful over the chance of things working out for him. He sat down on the kitchen island in front of Y/N.

“Well…not in so many words no, I mean, not officially, but we did have an argument, five days ago, I told him I didn’t wanna see his face around here that night and he left, hasn’t come back, texted or called since then.” She whispered the last part wrapping her arms around her own body and looked down to the floor to try and blink away those stupid tears that shouldn’t even be there in the first place. Kuku frowned seeing her upset and reached out pulling her to him gently making room for her to stand between his knees and hugged her tight kissing her head.

“Honestly….if he doesn’t see the kind of woman he has standing next to him he’s even dumber than I thought, it’s his loss, truly, if I were lucky enough to be in his place…” he mumbled cutting himself short when he realized what he was about to say when he saw Y/N look up at him with glossy eyes. He sighed  gently wiping her tears from her cheeks and took a deep breath before picking up where he left off, there was no use on denying what he felt now, even more so after seeing her cry, he only wanted to protect her and take care of her “If I were lucky enough to be in his place. I’d make sure to show you how important you are to me, I would do anything and everything in my power to help you achieve your dreams, you’re a wonderful person, gorgeous inside an out from what I’ve gotten to know you, and you deserve to have as your partner someone who sees how special you are and helps you shine on your own, who builds your light up, not someone who tries to dim you down.” Y/N kept looking at Esteban, not only could she look at him all night because he was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen, but hearing him say that, not only made her insides burn with desire, it made her heart swell with love.

That night, standing on that kitchen floor between Esteban’s knees, she understood two things, not only she didn’t love Lucas anymore and was determined to officially break things off with him as soon as possible, but she was also falling in love with the man in front of her, she was falling fast, she was falling hard, and she was falling deep in love with him and this was either gonna be the love story she was gonna tell her kids, or the break up that was gonna ruin her life. But either way, she was ready to find out.

Lucia’s notes: I told you all it was gonna get better didn’t I? and you haven’t seen the half of it! If you wanna be tagged in coming posts, please coment below. Also, no comments or likes needed but they are much appreciated. I love hearing what you think!

Credit to @cafekitsune for the MDNI divider and the section divider, they're amazing!!! go follow her if you wanna find amazing resources!

Taglist: @madame-fear  @cyliarys-starlight @castawaycherry @luceracastro @espinasrubi @lastflowrr @koiibiito @candycanes19 @nperoconelcositoarriba @lxdyred @deepinsideyourbeing

[imnotsorryforanyofthis]

Quirkless Advantage

Chapter forty-six: Text message...again

Warning: Lots and lots of cussing…..

———

These chapters are going to be stupid and short. Enjoy reading! ——— "Where do you want to go now?" Dabi asks, walking right next to me.

"I don't care. I'm hungry," I say as my stomach starts to feel like it's tying into a knot.

"Ok, I know where we are going to go," Dabi says, turning to go down a different path. — "This diner again," I say, walking in through the doors.

"Yup," Dabi says, sitting at a booth that is in the back corner by the window. He sits facing the door.

Of course he does.

I sit down across from him and the same girl from last time that is around my age comes up. She asks for what we want to drink. Dabi gets a coke and I get water.

"Really? A water again? Even on your birthday?" Dabi asks.

"Well, I think I'm made up of mostly coffee so I think I should probably drink water instead. You know so then I'll be mostly made up of water... like I should be," I say.

"What do you want to get?" He says, picking up the menu.

"I guess I'll get the same thing as last time," I say, not even looking at the menu.

"Why are you bothering to look at that? You and I both know that you're going to get a grilled cheese and tomato soup," I say, taking the menu out of his hands.

"Maybe I want to choose something for myself," Dabi says, taking it back from me.

I glare at him, "Hey, you didn't have to choose my tattoo. All I did was ask you."

Dabi sets the menu down on the table, "Well, you looking adorable being all excited made me do it. It also didn't help me saying no either."

"Aw, you think I look adorable," I say, smirking and he rolls his eyes.

"I could say many more things about you that's not so flattering," Dabi says, leaning on his elbows that are on the table.

"Can you just be nice for a day without saying anything to ruin it?" I say, rolling my eyes.

"Can you just let me say something nice and not tease me about it?" Dabi says.

I sigh, looking away and crossing my arms, "Fine."

"You better not regret getting that tattoo since I paid for it," Dabi says, leaning back against the booth.

"Since it was you that paid for it and chose it...I regret nothing," I say, now leaning on the table the same as he was.

I hear my phone go off and I groan, "I just want one day without Haru or anyone else texting me."

I take out my phone and look at it.

"Who is it?" Dabi asks.

I sigh, "Haru."

I click on the text message and read, "Hey, when are you going to get back?"

"I don't know yet. I'm at lunch with a friend. I'll text you later," I send and put my phone down on the table.

"Who is Haru?" Dabi asks and I look back at him and sigh.

"He's my best friend. I love him to death but he can be overbearing at times," I say and I hear my phone go off.

I pick up my phone and look at it.

"Ok... well, tell me when you will get back when you can. I have something that I'm going to do. It's a surprise!" Haru texts with a close-eyes smiley face.

"Ok, I will. Can't wait to see my surprise!" I send, smiling softly.

Even though Haru is difficult, he is caring and does nice things.

I put down the phone again, I hear it go off.

A text message... again...

---

Here is the link to all of the chapters

Link to next: Chapter forty-seven: How the fuck -

[calypso-finale]

Forty Four. Part 2

I didn’t think he would be in my room again, the girls will murder me “I don’t want to have sex with you, I don’t want this. It’s making me feel like shit” I admitted “then we won’t” he just shrugged “then why are you here? What is this? Why do you want to be here when you can have any other girl that will give you that, I don’t get it Oakley, this isn’t it. It’s unfair on me” he pushed the door shut, I frowned “people are asleep you know, you just come here in the middle of the night. We saw each other today, we took Aziel out, what more do you want?” I am so confused, he just stared at me “you” putting my head down, I don’t get it “why me? Don’t you want other people, other girls?” I am not getting it “nobody makes me feel the way you do Rylee, we can just talk. I rather be here with you and talk then be in the home alone with nothing going on” he sat on the bed “I can’t do this” I mumbled “let’s just talk, like friends again. I know you, you know me Rylee” crossing my arms across my chest “Ti said I have an attachment to you because you were my first, so I will always go running back to you and I don’t want that, it is draining me because I love you and I let you do it” he is going to make me cry “I am not using you Rylee, ok maybe it is coming off as that but you could say I am using you if I was with other girls, that ain’t it and you know it. Come” he waved me over, looking away from him shaking my head, I can’t do this with him “Rylee, angel come please” shaking my head, what am I doing. My legs just made me walk to him, he watched my every step, didn’t take his eyes off me, I was going to sit on the edge of the bed but he sat me on his lap “I am not using you, Ti said that I was your first so you’re attached but you’re my first too, I am attached too, you showed me this and I really can’t let it go. You make me mad but in my heart, I want you. I just think we have to take it slow, if you want that” I swallowed hard “but you treating me like a second fuck which hurts” he wrapped his arms around me “never that” I don’t know what he wants “I just want to talk to you until we fall asleep” he said, the bed has been feeling empty without him.

My ears perked up hearing light knocks on the door “Rylee? Fucking bitch wake up” my eyebrows came together in a frown, clearing my throat as I opened my eyes “Rylee” light knocks on the door again, Ti is being so annoying. Looking to the side of me and seeing Oakley in the bed with me but he didn’t run away like he does “wait” I just stop as I got up from the bed “what?” Oakley said, pushing myself up on the bed as he turned onto side and wrapped his arms around my waist “move, I have to get up” moving his arms away, he is not caring at all, he is just sleeping like he hasn’t slept in forty nights. Grabbing my robe as I got up, placing my feet in my slides. Placing my robe over me, Oakley just takes over my side every time “idiot” pulling the covers back over and made my way to the door, I would like to know why she is fussing outside the damn door, if it isn’t about Aziel then I don’t want to know. Opening the door a little and peaking in the gap “took you time” she said, “I know, what is it?” she shook her head “dad is here, he landed and came here straight away, I thought I would let you know. He is waiting for you to come out, he has been here for an hour now. He is asking to see you and said why isn’t she awake, it’s fucking nearly twelve” my eyes widened “right, fuck” Ti shook her head “leave him asleep, you know you’re bad right, how you doing the very thing we spoke on” she said “we didn’t even have sex, he just slept in the bed with me actually. Stop being so dense, I will be out. I slept in, just say that ok. I will be out” closing the door, with my hand still on the door handle I closed my eyes, well this is not good, I mean I don’t want my dad knowing he is around still but we aren’t actually together, he will not be best pleased with me but then how will he leave the apartment, we didn’t even do anything at all. We literally just stayed up talking and then fell asleep, I told him I am not having sex with him, and he accepted that, he wanted to sleep in the bed with me. Shaking Oakley “hey” I said, shaking him again “what?” him and the word what “my dad is here, to see me. You can’t leave the room, I will say we will go out to eat or something and then you can” he just nodded his head, he is sleeping for the gods, I mean we did sleep about five in the morning, just talking which was sweet for us.

Fixing my hair as I made my way to the living room “mommy” Aziel made a little run to me “aww hey baby” picking him up “he doesn’t want to know me” my dad said, I laughed “he does; he’s just clingy. Hi dad” making my way over to him “Rylee” my dad wrapped his arm around me and Aziel didn’t like it, he moved away whining out and then tried to kick my dad “hey!” I spat “my dad you’re kicking, stop it” my dad laughed “he’s just a child, I think he’s mad with me” moving back from the hug “how come you’re here?” I asked “come to see my daughter and your biggest fan wanted to see you” Imani waved at me “Imani, I didn’t even see you there. You back overseas” I laughed, Imani made her way over to me “I missed you all” she hugged me, wrapping my arm around her “I miss you too, just early that you came along” I said “early? Well you’re the one sleeping in but I came because I need to speak to my daughters” letting out an oh “ok, well we can go out to eat? What you think?” My dad nodded his head “sure, you’re paying though” taking in a deep breath “I hope that white man has left, banging on the apartment door in the early hours!” Halle barked and I just died inside “what white guy?” My dad said, I just stared at Halle “yeah what white guy?” I questioned myself, how dare she just do this. Eyeballing her “just someone” she smiled innocently, I mean she just aired me out and now my dad is questioning it “sorry” she apologised but I think it’s a little too late now because now my dad wants to know “she is drunk still dad” I laughed nervously “right well, you want to get ready so we can go?” Nodding my head “sure” Halle is a dumb bitch, I don’t want anyone knowing that Oakley and I are doing anything really, not at this point because anything could happen, he is telling me he wants me and he wants all these things but then what makes me think he won’t turn around and say he doesn’t actually want me and he was playing a game all this time, I need to be careful. I won’t make that mistake, I can’t make that mistake even if I do love him “can you take him” I said to Ti, Aziel will be shouting dad loudly and I really don’t need that right now.

Hearing a wolf whistle behind me as the tee fell down my body, his tee to be exact. Turning around “sshhh ok” I said to him “I just watched you get changed you know” he’s acting like I didn’t know he was “I know, I’m not stupid, but we will be leaving. Then you can come out and leave. Don’t come back and be knocking on the door in the early hours either, I mean you will be gone anyways. You got the tour” he cleared his throat, Oakley just waking up is a vibe, he’s actually at his peak finest when he has just woke up “mhmmm yeah” he grumbled “what’s with the negative vibe, what happens on tour stays on tour, my dad came up with that, I remember. Just before he went in his tour, he said that and my mother went fucking crazy on him, but it’s a boy thing, have fun anyways” watching him rub his chest, his eyes half asleep “I’m not that guy though, you know what I want” I shrugged “we spoke those hours for what? If you don’t want me then say it, I get it. You young and shit but just speak!” He spat “don’t shout, I want it yeah, but it has to be different, maybe we need to go back to basics and just get to know each other in that sense of friendship. Oakley you’re literally the guy I’ve been with properly, that’s all I want but also I don’t want it to be a ploy to hurt me for what I did to you” he shook his head “there is no ploy, you jumped and assumed I was cheating, that wasn’t me right, we will see then after the tour but you could come with me” I shook my head “have fun” he looked away from me “you really piss me off, you have trust issues” walking off to the bathroom “your bed is nice by the way, I like it” looking at myself in the mirror “thank you” I mumbled “on a real I will miss you, I’ve been peak at your place every night” I sniggered “I know, lack of sleep getting to me. But Oakley, if you do want another, then please just do it and let me know” I said, I worry because I mean, I have to worry “man, fuck this. I don’t need to be here and hear you be this fucking way” he spat “like what?” I stepped out “insecure! I never was with an insecure woman! I got with the most confident, most vibrant girl. What is your problem?” He jumped out of bed, staring at him “having a baby can do that, just let us go and yeah. Just leave, Halle will be around” grabbing my bag from the side, people change, I’ve changed in myself “Oakley” I said, he wrapped his arms around me “you’re the most beautiful girl ever Rylee, you had a baby so what, your body is banging. Nothing ever changed with me, just you became insecure and you didn’t need too” I just melted in his arms, breathing out like a defeated person “I’ve seen my mom battle herself always with my dad, I get how she felt when her body changed, when she became used as they said and then you see the young fresh girls” Oakley kissed my cheek “you are still that and I love you Rylee, I always did” looking to the side of me “nothing has changed on my side” he said staring into my eyes “I’m sorry” I mumbled putting my head down and he kissed my forehead “I love you too Oakley” turning to him to hug him.

I left Aziel behind with Halle, but I told Halle to let Oakley have him, my dad said he doesn’t want distractions, so I am now wondering what this is about. Putting my hand up looking away from my dad, he is putting his phone in my face “seeing my daughters, look at these girls. All grown and hiding their face” moving my hand away “whatever dad, stop being so dramatic” I chuckled “I am not being dramatic, just proud. I will be posting it and tagging you all” looking at Imani “so what are you doing on tour? Creative watcher” she pulled a face at me “I am actually the one that will be meeting his fans and dealing with them, I have a job actually” looking at dad keeping her busy “that will be fun, are you over Ti and I going on holiday?” she shook her head “still hurting” of course she is “tagged you all, so before the waiter comes. I am happy that I am able to see you three, I adore my daughters so much, I do. I know there is a big gap between you three and Emi but I pray she gets the same love, I want that for my kids, which brings me onto the hostility going on” he looked at me “dad isn’t stupid Rylee, I know Oakley was at the apartment so before you pipe up think about what you going to say, I know everything, I also know that guy more then he knows himself” staring at the table “but we move, and I am here being ok about it, because it’s not my business anymore right, so shut your mouth and listen to me” this took a turn “I know you have a issue with Robyn, you three girls are acting like my wife is the enemy, you treat her like shit and I have had enough of it. The disrespect you all exhibit to her is disgusting, and on top of that you are taking it out on Emi like she has hurt any of you, and the ignorant comment you made Rylee talking about who is Emi, ignorance. Look at me” he said, looking up at my dad “it was ignorant, you chose to push yourself out of the chat, out of the family because you don’t like that we had another, you are angry at her because of Brian, I was mad, I know now but the thing that happened and how you dealt with it after, that isn’t her fault, that is your own actions. You need someone to blame, and all you girls are taking it out on Robyn, my wife, I don’t like it and I am not having it anymore” looking at Ti, well I didn’t think this would be how it went down, the waiter has come so it’s a break.

My dad is pissed off “my wife loves you kids so much because if you little niggas treated me that way you all would be on the streets, the amount of things she has done for you all and you treat her the way you do” I feel like dad is just speaking to me and not the others, like he is pointing at me “me” I said “you’re the lead Rylee” he said “she gives bad advice, she dislikes Oakley so much that she will do anything to break what we have” my dad squinted his eyes “and we don’t need to take on the advice given, your mom will get over that. I want you to think about everything, I want you girls, all of you. To talk to your mom, to air it out because if anything happens to us right now. I would die knowing Emi doesn’t have her sisters and that hurts me, just because you want to be like this” shaking my head “dad, that is wrong. I would take her on” I defended “then act like you would, your mom misses Aziel, she misses her daughters, she misses it all. I want you all to think and at some point apologise, mom isn’t the bad guy and any advice given you girls don’t need to take it in, Rylee you are too grown to be acting this way, but going forward. I won’t have you girls being disrespectful towards her, it’s gone too far at this point, got it?” nodding my head, I didn’t think this meal would be about mom but clearly it’s upsetting my dad and mom “I didn’t think it was that deep really” I mumbled “it is Rylee, you’re so spoilt at times. I don’t want you to go and call her now and apologise, you do that shit when you mean it and talk it out, you are the main one because the eldest so I am looking at you” like I am the leader of these two, but I get it, I have been selfish.

[crackspinewornpages]

Rage 17/35 -Stephen King

(yes the infamous banned Stephen King book that King himself pulled from publishing let’s see what was really so bad about it now as warning King not only is the King of Horror he is also the King of Fucked Up) 

1 

It was a nice May morning because Charlie kept his breakfast down and he saw a squirrel while in algebra. The lawn of Placerville High School is a good one, it comes right up to the building. Two years ago, there was a meeting to put a gazebo on it in honor of those who went to the school before they got killed in the wars. “Two years ago to the best of my recollection, that was about the time I started to lose my mind.”p.7 

2 

 9:05 in the morning, Mrs..Underwood was walking through the basics of algebra since only Charlie and Ted passed the exam. Charlie was watching the squirrel, it seemed to keep his breakfast down more than him lately, but for now he was riding ok. Charlie was called to the office and his stomach began to turn. Halfway down the hall he imagined Underwood coming after him saying they don’t need boys like him here, he belonged in a reformatory or a hospital for the criminally insane, to get out. He reached for his pipe wrench in his pocket that wasn’t there, she wasn’t there, he’s been reading too many books. (is this King taking a dig) 

3 

In the bathroom he ate Ritz crackers (I did not they were this old) to calm his stomach and thought of Sandra from class, how she’s always losing buttons, (the button on her jeans popped off and her zipper rode down so he could see her underwear) she was a Nice Girl. If Mr. Denver and Mr. Grace send him to Greenmantle, he won’t see her again. He always thought you should be alone in the bathroom, but the neighboring classes can hear the flush. “The bathroom should be a confessional sort of place. But they fail you. They always fail you. You can't even blow your nose and keep it a secret.”p.10 Guys like Denver and Grace are paid to peek. He was alone in the hall then he went back to the bathroom and took out his flair, (not a vest full of buttons but a pen) maybe write something dirty on the wall. He saw the bags under his eyes and wrote EAT SHIT, breaking his pen. He breathed in slowly to regain control and went back upstairs. 

4 

The administration office is on the third floor, along with the library, (seems an odd place every school I been to has them on the ground floor or close to the entry) study hall and room 300, the typing room, the clicking never stops. He associates the sound to the administration office like drum beats in an African safari film. Charlie waited for Denver and saw his father’s friend Al Lathrop was there with his suitcase of text books, (he’s a text book salesman) he’s never seen him in a suit before, usually it’s hunting gear. “I had been on a hunting trip once with my father and Al and a couple of my father’s other friends. Part of Dad’s never ending campaign to Make a Man Out of My Son.”p.12  

Al was nervous to be near Carl Decker’s psycho son who nearly killed the chemistry physics teacher. He didn’t want to needle him anymore, forty and just trying to make a buck, if he spoke of just wanting to murder his wife it was just talk, Charlie was the one with actual blood on his hands. He wanted to yank his face up and yell at him. “You and my father and all your friends, you should have to go in there with me, you should all have to go to Greenmantle with me, because you’re all in it, you’re all in it, you’re all a part of this!”p.13 

5 

He was startled from a bad dream where a monster was coming for him in an alley, if he saw it it would drive him insane, a dream he hadn’t had since he was nine. He was in a sleeping bag on the hunting trip he didn’t want to go on. His dad and friends were drunk, Al made a comment about having sex with Carl’s wife, Carl’s response was that if he caught someone doing it, he’d castrate them with his hunting knife and for the woman to slit up to their nose, (called it a Cherokee nose job) Al said he’d blow their heads off. Charlie had to pee but they scared him too much, but he couldn’t wait anymore, he left the tent not wanting to be out in the woods but with his mother.  

When he left the tent, they stopped talking and looked at him, his father still holding the knife told him to get on with it. When Charlie got back, they were talking about the war they were all in. Three days later his father got a buck and used the knife to gut it, Charlie puked and his father looked at him in disappointment. “I had seen it there often enough. I didn’t say anything either. But if I had been able to, I would have said: It isn't what you think. That was the first and last time I ever went hunting with my dad.”p.16 

6 

Charlie was called in the office of principle Denver, he’d finished reading the report Grace made and has been considering recommendations and he’s been discussing it with John Carlson, he’ll be back in a month. It's something he didn’t kill him, does he wish he had, no. Denver says he’s been doing this since 47, he has to say it because it’s necessary but it makes him unhappy. “Because I still can't understand why a thing like this happens.”p.18 (we’re still trying to find out) 54, a boy beat a girl with a bat because she wouldn’t go out with him, (could report that today and it wouldn't be unusual) Charlie tells him not to bother trying to understand. 

Denver says Carlson was in the operating room for four hours, Charlie tells him he doesn’t want to hear anymore sermons. Do what you have to do but don’t try to understand, it’s not his job to help him understand. He’s also tired of them and he’s decided he doesn't have to put up with it. He’s warning him to stand back, he’s not qualified, he’s warning them. 

Denver agrees with Grace’s report that Charlie doesn’t understand the consequences of what he did, he’s disturbed. “They were shark words at deep fathoms, jaws words come to gobble me. Words with teeth and eyes.”p.18 Charlie’s felt calm and detached, almost floating and told Denver to go to hell, he’s already judged him and starts goading him to be a man, (by goading I mean Charlie is mocking him in a stereotypical southern black accent think Ah Lawdy Missuh) stop jacking, pull up his pants and be a principle. Denver snaps that he’s lucky, they're in a progressive state in a progressive school. (this was back in the day schools were allowed to give corporal punishment) Charlie thanks him for now treating him like a human being, Denver tells him he has a filthy mouth and mind. (buddy kids from now would make your head spin) 

Denver grabs Charlie’s shirt demanding respect and orders him to get out, he’s been expelled to Greenmantle as of Monday. Charlie ruffled his shirt and undid his pants before staggering into the office for the secretaries to see claiming they were talking about panty raids and he tried to rape him and he avoids Denver as he lunges at him. He knew Denver couldn’t say anything he confronted him with, (he already knows how to manipulate situations to his advantage) what he said was wrong with him, but they hadn't expected any irrational act. (this is why in these situations you need witnesses) Getting him mad made him dangerous, but he was ready to protect himself since he decided people might be following checking, he gave Denver every chance to grab him. “I didn’t want salvation. I was either past that part or never reached it. All I wanted was recognition... or maybe for someone to draw a yellow plague circle around my feet.”p.21 When Denver didn’t come at him Charlie went ahead. 

7 

It happens sometimes when things get horrible your mind goes to wonderful places as you look back to the bridge you burned. 

8 

The hall was deserted. he went to his locker he put his padlock in his shirt pocket as he overheard Johnson lecture on the Hessians, German killing machines and tore up his textbooks. The only thing left on the shelf was a picture of Raquel Welch (she was an actress and died this year back in April) and a box of shells, the ones from his father’s desk. This pistol, however, was from a different drawer, probably forgotten, but not anymore as Charlie shoved it into his belt. He put the shells in his pocket and lit the textbooks on fire, shut the door and watched the fire through the vent. A kid came out and walked past Charlie, probably didn’t see the gun, so Charlie went to Room 16. 

9 

Underwood paused from her teaching to ask if Charlie had an office pass, he tells her no and shoots her in the head. 

10 

Sanity is going your whole life thinking the world is logical and sane, he thinks it is and he keeps coming back to Underwood’s last words. “So you understand that when we increase the numbers of variables, the axioms themselves never change.”p.27 He believes it, logic and sanity, it’s real, but every Jekyll has a Hyde, this logic eats itself, no one looks at it unless they have to. It’s not just on the outside, it’s growing inside you, he’s the sane one, but what about them. After he shot Underwood there was a moment of silence as they watched the ball on the roulette spin, he thinks the moment ended but sometimes he thinks it’s still spinning, and he dreamed the rest. That feeling when suicidals step down from the ledge, it must be sane, that’s why they scream. (I read somewhere that survivors claimed that after they made that leap all their troubles seem easily solvable) 

11 

 If someone had screamed it would have been over, someone would have jumped him, but everyone was silent. He shut the door and sat at Underwood’s desk, that’s when Irma screamed but it was too late to act and she stopped. Voices outside as the fire alarm went off, he told them it was his locker and to stay in their seats. He could see students filing outside, the door was yanked open and Charlie told Mr. Vance to get out as he fired and missed him. Vance didn’t register it and Mike warned him before a bullet hit his throat, he fell back into the hall, Charlie orders Ted to lock the door. John, also called Pig Pen, had just fainted and he had them wake him, as they break into hysterical laughter Pig Pen started to cry. Johnson tried to open the door but Charlie shot through the window and Johnson shouted he had a gun. People began to panic with the rising fire alarm and Sandra commented that it sounds like the end of the world. 

12 

Five minutes later the fire engines rolled up and the classroom looked at Charlie silently asking why they didn’t run, he didn’t answer. “I don’t answer any questions about what happened that morning in Room 16. But if I told them anything, it would be that they’ve forgotten what it was to be a kid.”p.32 To lie with violence, fist fights, brawls. TV, movies. what happened wasn’t much by comparison. (he’s not wrong even today I’d say it’s gotten worse) “I know they thought they’d be all right. That’s part of it. What I wonder about is this: were they hoping I’d get somebody else?”p.32 (thinking at least it’s not me let it be the other guy is a sad part of the human condition) Ambulance sirens joined the fire siren, he wondered when they’d stop scaring those they’re trying to save. 

13 

The classroom watched the firemen spill into the parking lot as Johnson and Mr. Grace ran to talk to the fire chief and pointed to the room, Denver joined them. The fire chief got a bull horn and ordered people to move away to the highway, school was cancelled. (kids cheered as they didn’t understand yet) Charlie let the students smoke if they wanted, (it was the 70s babies smoked) just don’t rush him or the door, there had to be things he wasn't thinking of but it didn’t matter. Denver contacts them on the intercom and asks what’s going on, Charlie tells him he’s gone berserk, Ted tells Denver what happened, they’re being held hostage. He has Ted call a roll and asks Charlie if he’ll let them go, not yet, when asked why Charlie almost feels sorry for him but quickly crushed it. 

He warns if he’s not called Charlie hell shoot somebody and he’ll call him Tom. The police start to arrive and Charlie warns if they use tear gas he’ll make them sorry. Why is he doing this, he doesn't know, he’s probably realized it, but he doesn’t like him, but up until now he hasn’t cared how he’s felt about it. Does he get it now, that’s he’s not a file he can tuck up, when the day’s over he’ll understand, tell them all. The students outside were being bussed home, they’ll learn on the TV, but here, the education went on. 

He gets the classes attention he gives them permission to shoot off their mouths and asks if anyone thinks he’s just going to murder them, Ted points out he just killed Underwood. He had to and Vance, but they don’t have to worry, Carol asks when they can go, they’ll have to wait and see. When someone says their mother will worry Sylvia said she knows where they are, there was laughter except for Ted, Charlie decided to watch him. Ted was a popular star on the football team until he quit without explanation except for football being a stupid game.  

Harmon asked if he was nuts, maybe since he just killed someone, Harmon tells him to see a doctor. Sylvia calls Mr. Grace a creeper wanting to talk about her sex life. Jack asked what are they going to do, just get it on. Corky asked why he beat up Carlson, if he knew what he had to do with it, he wouldn’t have done it. Susan suspects it’s his parents surprising Charlie as Susan was a student that didn’t speak unless called on, Charlie thinks about the hunting trip but decides it’s too revolting. (didn’t you just think about how they experience worse shit than in this class) Susan was aware she was speaking and stopped, and he remembered the hunting trip again, he didn’t want to talk about it besides, Ted didn’t care, or it was important, perhaps he could still be helped. “I suspect it was much too late for me, but even on that level, don’t they say that learning is a good and elegant thing for it’s own sake? Sure.”p.39 

14 

His parents met at a wedding reception, less than a year later the bride burned to death. His mother married the brother, they dated six months then married he came fourteen months later conceived around when his aunt died. He was an only child, his mother didn’t want another, his father became an army recruiter. His first memory is around three, waking up thinking he was dead and seeing a full moon and elm branches. Something terrible coming in the darkness, the creaking thing in mom and dad’s room, his mother telling his father to stop and let her sleep. (so his first memory is hearing his dad force himself on his mother) 

15 

Nobody said anything even if they got the point, outside more police cars arrived, Ted double flipped him off and mouthed shit. (yeah that’s right Ted piss off the mentally unstable guy who’s holding a loaded gun just killed two people and has your class hostage) 

16 

“My dad has hated me for as long as I can remember.”p.43 He knows it sounds petulant, but it means no one will believe you if it’s true, it’s true for him. He doesn’t think his dad really knew until after the Carlson incident, probably say he was hating him for his own good, he was the bird shit on his windshield. Being a recruiting chief was rough on him. “It says in the Bible that the sin of the fathers are visited upon the sons, and that may be true. But I could also add that the sins of the other father’s sons were visited on me.”p.43 People throwing away their lives come to him, and Charlie had characteristics of all of them, he hated him because he was unequal to the challenge., maybe he was a momma’s boy.  

62, he threw rocks at the new storm windows, maybe in revenge on his old man, he was four, he doesn’t remember. His father caught him at the last window and threw him on the ground then said he didn't mean it. When Charlie started to cry his father told him he shouldn’t have broken the windows to shut up and be a man. (he’s four you you micro penis macho jackass) His mother ran out and he ran to her, she saw he was starting to bruise, and his father denied hurting him. His father was angry the neighbor saw the scene (you mean the scene you caused) and they get into an argument about her babying Charlie, and she yells at him to get out of her sight, go drinking with his friends. He says her head is filled with liberal bullshit from college next time Charlie will break something more valuable and her heart. After seeing how easily his father could be banished, he began to hate him back (at four he learned his father isn’t all powerful but for now he’s too small to fight back) and while drinking cocoa he told his mother his father lied about hurting him. 

17 

It all blew over, he remembered a kid he dared to eat a dead mouse, his mother saw it just as he swallowed and forced him to throw up and she threw up as a result, the mouse didn’t look too bad compared to the rest. “The moral seemed to be that puking up your past when the present is even worse makes some of the vomitus look nearly tasty.”p.48 It was too revolting to tell them. (you think everything is revolting) Ted was grinning and threatened to take the gun, Charlie tells him to sit down. Ted tells him it’s sick to blame this on his parents and to put down the gun and fight fair. Charlie asks why he quit the football team, he refuses to answer. Some laughed at the verbal shoot out, Charlie won, but why. Maybe they need to see everyone the same, mob spirit, wipe out the strange one, but that’s Charlie not Ted. 

Someone says they know why, Ted threatens to kill Pig Pen, his mother is the town nosy shrew listening on the party line. Sylvia tells him to go on, Ted’s mother is an alcoholic, he had to quit to help out. Ted threatens to kill him again, Charlie says he can blame his parents if he does it. Charlie starts to needle him, and no one told him to stop, all watched Ted until he snapped that it was disgusting, why would he write to her when she copped out and he couldn’t play football and swears to get Charlie for this. He might and agrees with Ted, an old drunk mother is disgusting. (Charlie would know his father is an alcoholic) Now to move onto other things, no one said anything for a long time, there was a lot to think about. 

NEXT

[thewritingginger]

So so late, like so many other prompts, lets not talk about it :)

Have an overdue post 

I knew this could’ve been something cute and fluffy buut... DILFs! Blame Tumblr I’ve done DILF! Reiner before so I decided to give some love to Mr. Yeager - whom of which I believe would become a major DILF. 

**Mind any mistakes, edited lazily :)

Fandom: Attack on Titan Pairing: DILF! Eren Yeager x Fem! Reader Word count: 12.9k + words Warnings: 18+, Best friend’s Dad, Age gap (reader early 20s & Eren mid 40s), Unequal power dynamic, Infidelity, Virginity loss, Dirty talk, Alcohol consumption, Fem! Masturbation, Slight exhibitionism, Pet names, Oral sex (Fem! & M! receiving), Vaginal fingering, Use of a condom, Daddy kink, Praise, Teasing, Corruption kink, Slight dumbification, Light aftercare, Eren smiling every two lines cuz idk

Enjoy ~

Sophomore year of high school you met your best friend and since have spent many nights at her place. The Yeager’s had always been welcoming of you and only being across the street from your place made it that much easier to see your friend. Her place truly became like a second home to you.

Over time you found yourself developing a little crush on your friend’s dad; Mr. Eren Yeager. A feeling you never dared to tell your friend.

But how could you not develop one?

Although he was well into his thirties, breaching forty, he sure didn’t look it. His body was toned and adorned with well fitted clothing. His long hair is always tied up in a messy but sleek looking bun, that’s not to mention how attractive it is down .

On the night of the graduation party your friend’s parents were throwing was when your crush truly set in. Maybe it was from the hard lemonade you and your friend snuck into her room but you swear you kept feeling eyes on you and when you turned to look it was always him.

~~~

Four years later.

It’s winter break of your third year of college. You and your friend were both going home for break, however she had to do a few things before she could, meaning she was going to leave a day or two after you.

You arrived at your family home that remained unoccupied while your parents were on an extended vacation. After settling in you wander the house for something to do, after making lunch you went out to check the mailbox and saw a car pull into your friend's driveway.

Mr. Yeager steps out.

You forget yourself for a moment as you lean against the mailbox, admiring the man walking to his front door and before you can turn away he catches you. You gasp and look down at the mail in your hands trying to act normal but when you look up your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you see the man striding across the street. Your mouth dries as you try not to gawk at how his long sleeve fits him perfectly and with that studly smile it’s hard not to melt under his emerald gaze.

“Hello, Y/n. I was told you would be coming back before my daughter. I see your parents are still on their trip,  hope you aren’t getting too lonely in there by yourself.” He stands before you, one hand resting on the mailbox between you and the other resting casually with his thumb through his jeans belt loop.

“Um, it’s ok. Just settling in from the trip back.” You laugh, brushing your hair behind your ear. You want to slap yourself for how stupid you sound but you just smile nicely and he gives one in return.

“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight, you know you’re always more than welcome in our home.”

“Oh I don’t want to in-.”

“I insist.” He interrupts and you can’t argue with those eyes, so you just nod your head.

“Okay, sure.”

“Perfect.”

~~~

After an admittedly awkward dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Yeager you were helping clean up after the other women went upstairs.

“Sorry about her.” Eren says coming up behind you with another glass.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“My wife. I know you're a smart girl Y/n and as a woman I’m sure you can tell when another is upset.” Turning the water off, you try to think of a response.

“Mr. Yeager, I-”

“Just call me Eren, we’re all adults here.” He smiles. “Would you care for another drink?”

“Um, sure.” You accept knowing he’d insist, besides it’s not even nine o’clock yet. Another drink won't hurt, right?

But it wasn’t just another drink. Two hours and a few drinks later you and Eren are sitting on the couch, talking and watching a show that has since been forgotten.

“Do you have a boyfriend, Y/n?” He asks casually, taking another sip of his bourbon. You’re sitting on the other side of the loveseat facing him, legs criss-crossed.

“No.”

“I find that hard to believe. A beautiful girl like you probably has to bat boys off of you.” He says, smiling into his glass as you blush at his complimentary words. “I’m sure given the chance any guy would gladly eat you up.” You laugh coyly at his forward insinuation.

“Thank you, Mr. Yeager but-” You pause looking down into your glass. “I wouldn’t know.” The last words fall from your lips in your buzzed state.

Placing his glass on the coffee table he leans back, arms spread over the back and the armrest of the couch, ankle crossed over his knee. His emerald gaze combs over you in assessment.

“You’re not still a virgin, are you?” He asks. Your face feels hot and it’s not from the alcohol this time. Fuck. You think to yourself, he probably thinks you’re a loser.

“Um-.”

“No need to be embarrassed, Y/n, it’s perfectly normal. You’re a young woman. You should save it for a real man, one that would treat you the way you deserve.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you are right to wait. You shouldn't waste it on some frat boy that just wants to add another knot to his bedpost, another flower he had picked for some bet. You should give yourself to a man that knows what he’s doing. One that’d make sure you’re so drunk on pleasure you wouldn’t be able to decipher up from down.”

Without realizing it as Mr. Yeager spoke, eyes locked, he scooted closer to your side of the loveseat. Your heartbeat is increasing with every advancing inch of him. Swallowing, drinking up the intoxicating things being said to you, trying to wet your throat that is drying. His fingertips graze your arm, a simmering gaze trailing up and down your body before coming back to yours. Your lips are slightly parted but no words come out.

“At least that’s what I would do.”

“What you would do?” The parroted question falls from your head to your lips before you could stop them. Embarrassment overtakes you, getting swept up in your own fantasies. You’ve blurred the line between dream and reality. Mr. Yeager was just trying to make you feel better by putting himself in your shoes.

Right?

“Sorry I didn’t mean it like-.” You try to correct yourself, the alcohol must have caught up with you quicker than you thought, but he cut you off.

“You didn’t mean what?”

“Uh, nothing. Forget I said that.” You try to sweep what happened under the rug but the humorous glint in the man’s eyes tells you he has another plan.

“You know, Y/n you’re such a sweet little thing.” He tilts his head at your blushing face as the hand on his lap reaches up to brush your hair back. Your breath hitches and you hoped he didn’t hear but the curve of his lips tells you otherwise. As he continues to speak, the palm on the side of your face begins to trail down your neck and shoulder, the line he draws down your covered skin ignites your senses.

“So innocent and easily flustered. To answer the question plastered all over that pretty face of yours, yes. I would gladly, if you so desired, strip that pesky chastity belt from you and show you the true meaning of pleasure.” His face draws near yours, you can feel his hot breath against your lips.

You want him.

You’ve wanted him for so long, long before this moment.

But you stop yourself.

“I-” The two of you hear footsteps coming down the wooden staircase and a part of you is greatful. Backing away you stand as Mrs. Yeager, the wife of the man that just offered to take your virginity, turns the corner.

“Y/n, it’s getting late. I think it’s time you get back home.” She says, looking at her husband.

“I was just getting ready to walk her back.”

“I think she can manage.” The tension between the two makes you squirm.

Does she know what we were just doing?

It doesn’t matter. You need to get home and sleep off the alcohol in your system, maybe then you can think more clearly.  

“Thank you for having me over.” You say to the two of them.

Walking towards the front door, Mr. Yeager right behind you. Opening it for you he stops you before letting you go.

“It was lovely having you, as always, Y/n.” He says before pausing to peek over his shoulder.

“Think about what I said. My door is always open to you.” He leaves you with a wink. As you walk across the street to your house you didn’t realize how hot you were till the cold night air hit your flushed skin.

~~~

A few days had gone by since that night. Your friend had returned the next day and you had made an excuse as to why you couldn’t sleep over that night, you couldn’t tell her you were spinning with thoughts of her disgustingly hot father.

However on this night you and your friend went to a bar to meet up with a few other friends. Instead of going home you went to her place.

It is the middle of the night, your friend is fast asleep in her drunk induced slumber. Your buzz has died down to a low hum but the heat between your legs have not subsided. No matter how hard you tried drinking and dancing with other men you couldn’t get the eyes of one particular man out of your head.

Laying on the blowup mattress made up next to your friend’s bed you begin to rub your thighs together in frustration. The ache between them continues to build the more you try to erase his face from your mind. The more you try to forget the way the baritone of his voice vibrated through you and the words he spoke, the worse it got. Every syllable oozing with sex and desire. It all made you so hot that you almost couldn't breathe.

You start to rub your hands over your body, imagining they were his. Cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples, you play with yourself pulling soft sighs from your throat. One hand slides under the waistband of your sleep shorts, over your underwear. You halt your movements when you hear your friend turn in her sleep but continue once she stills.

With closed eyes you picture him.

In your mindseye he is shirtless, it wasn’t hard to know he has a great body from the tight shirts he wears. A strong arm holds himself up on his forearm as the other draws a line down your front. Dipping into your shorts like yours. His hot breath fanning your ear as he calls you all the pretty names you want him to call you. Fingers run over the wet spot on the fabric between your fingers and your needy core. A sigh floats into the air from your lips once more as you rub circles over your clothed heat.

You need more.

You feel the rough fingers that had grazed your bare arm that night now between your thighs. Gently scratching at the bundle of nerves that is begging for release. You bite your lips together to hold in the airy moan that wants to escape. Tears threaten to seep from your eyes in need and frustration. How badly you wished he was between your legs rubbing your most intimate parts. Teasing your unused hole with his fingertips before inserting them, stretching you for his manhood. The fire in your belly roars with desperation and the knowledge that he is just across the hall laying in a bed next to his wife makes it burn even brighter.

Your fingers eagerly move you towards your peak. Your free hand cups over your mouth to suppress your pleasured sounds. Your breath comes quickly from your nostrils and muffled mewls are held under your palm. You rock your hips against your fingers at the deviant thought of being caught touching yourself. Caught thinking of laying with a married man, your friend’s father no less. The tides of euphoria finally wash over you as your toes curl, body spasming as a silent moan falls from your lips.

Your body relaxes from its tightened up state. Pulling your hand from your shorts you lay there looking at the ceiling wanting to feel guilt for what you’ve just done but you don’t. It did not aid in anything other than making your hunger for Mr. Yeager greater.

Although you feel more relaxed than before, you're still too hot to sleep. In your half buzzed state you creep out of the room to sneak downstairs to fetch a glass of water, however on your way to the kitchen you see a light on in the office off to the side of the living room. Thinking it had been left on you peeked in but found the room still being occupied by none other than Mr. Yeager.

Leaned back in his desk chair he is loosely tying up his hair, you admire the way his arms flex when raised. You take in the image of him, knowing it will most likely be used for another future round of your sinful thoughts. However, in your lust filled daze you were caught staring before you could move away.

“You’re up late.” His voice is a low relaxed hum. What you don’t see in the smirk that plays on his lips when you swallow, trying to collect yourself. Admitting defeat of your poor attempt at spying, you open the door to his office.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep and I saw the light I-.” You scramble trying to make it seem your presence is casual but he cuts you off with an invitation.

“Come in. What seems to be on your mind?” He asks with false concern, his eyebrows quirked and head tilted.

Closing the door you take a few steps into the room. You wring your hands together as you gather your courage, it’s now or never.

“Um, I- I thought about what you said the other night.” Your words come out meek and uncertain of what you plan to do.

“Come.” He says the single word with a gesture to the chair in front of his desk.

You take the few timid steps it takes to reach the plush leather chair. Before you can think of something else to say he starts.

“Tell me, Beautiful, what is it you’ve been thinking about in that pretty head of yours?” He asks with a small smirk. Your breath catches in your throat for a moment by the pet name.

“Uh, I don’t know.” You say, your words come out stuttered and nervous. God, you must sound stupid. You think as you look at your hands.

“You don’t know?” He parrots back. “Surely you didn’t come here for no reason.” Your gaze looks up when you sense him standing from his seat. Going around his desk he sits on the corner of it in front of you, one hand resting atop the surface for support as he looks at you.

“From the look on your face I think you know what you want to say but are too shy to say it or perhaps you don’t want to admit it at all. So tell me, what's the decision you’ve come to?” You take a deep breath because he hit the nail right on the head. Licking  your lips you finally respond.

“Mr. Yeager, you’re my friend’s dad and-.” You pause.

“And what?”

“And you’re married.” Your words hang in the air in a balloon of silence before it is broken by a deep chuckle.

“Both are true statements but what’s that got to do with our little discussion?”

He responds so casually as if the infidelity he is playing with is nothing. Like how this can possibly change your relationship with your friend was not worth a second thought.

Stepping off the desk he stalks around behind you like a predator circling his prey. Your breath wavers when you feel his hands touching the back of your chair, his body leaning over your shoulder.

“My wife doesn’t please me. We haven’t properly had sex in months and you are sitting here never having been properly touched, if at all.” His face turns to yours, his hot breath hitting against your right ear. “It seems to me we could both benefit from this arrangement and nobody would have to know. It can be our dirty little secret.” 

His nose is touching your head, breathing in your scent as you’re flooded with his musk. So manly and earthy, you want to bathe in it. You gasp when you feel his warm hand touch yours, gliding up your bare arm. You almost get lost in the residual of your high from earlier mixing with the new heat brewing till his deep voice speaks again.

“What do you say, pretty girl? You can walk back upstairs and go to sleep like nothing happened or you can stay here and I can give you a little taste, or rather you'll be giving me a taste of what this can offer.” His heavy breath fans your ear and you melt under his searing touch. His hand slides from your hand, down the armrest to glide along your bare leg and gently back up, fingertips grazing your inner thigh teasingly but never making contact with the needy junction between them.

The sane part of you tries to speak but is greatly overtaken by lust. You open your eyes, you never realized you closed, and turn in the leather seat completely. Mr. Yeager stands back as he looks at your kneeled form on the cushion in front of him, your hands resting on the back as you look up at him.

“It’ll just be between us?” You ask. His lips curve up at your sweet naivety. Bending at the hip, his hands gripping the chair back, he puts his handsome face in front of yours with a gentle smile.

“Of course, if that’s what you wish. You have full control here.”

“I do?” He nods his head with a hum as he strokes your cheek.

“All you’ll have to do is say the word and I’ll stop.”

Walking back around in front of your seat Mr. Yeager kneels before you on one knee, green eyes remain gentle yet primal.

“So tell me, Y/n, what do you want to do first?” His question makes you open and close your mouth a few times as you try to find the words. Of course you’ve thought about sex and all the things that go around it but being presented with it is different than thinking about it.

“Um, I don’t know.” You let out a nervous laugh.

“Why don’t I show you a few things then and we can move on from there. You just let me know if you want to stop.” He offers and you nod your head. Your heart is beating out of your chest, you’re still in shock that this is even happening. Sure you’ve dreamed of it but to actually be met with it, with him, is nothing like you’ve imagined.

Your breath hitches when your hips are suddenly pulled forward, your back now almost completely laid onto the seat of the chair.

“Do you mind if I take off your shorts?” You nod your head, biting your lip.

“I need a verbal yes or no, Sweetheart.”

“Yes.” You say quickly. He smiles in approval at your submissiveness. Lifting your hips you help him strip you of your pajama shorts leaving you just in your light blue underwear. You bend your knees together but his large hands are quick to pry them back open

“I can’t help you if you keep your legs closed now can I?” You shake your head brushing your hair behind your ear. “No I can’t, besides how else will I see your pretty panties if you do.” His added comment makes him laugh and you blush harder.

Oh how he’s going to enjoy toying with you.

His callused hands run up and down your thighs soothingly. He places a few kisses on your inner thighs, never looking away, to see your reaction of soft intakes of breath. A low growl comes from his throat from your scent. It takes everything in him not to tear off the useless fabric and bury his face between your open legs.

He takes one hand and slides it down your inner thigh. He feels your muscles flex and shiver under his touch. Not yet touching your waiting womanhood he drags his hand up to rest on your mound, his eyes go back to yours.

“May I?” He asks and you hastily agree with a nod but he waits for you to say it.

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” His praise melts over you and is accompanied by his thumb gingerly rubbing over your covered folds. A hungry hum that turns to a breathy chuckle erupts from his chest.

“Already so wet for me. Has my presence had such an effect on you or have you perhaps been thinking of this before you stepped into my office?” His knowing statement comes out less like a question but you find yourself needing to answer it anyways while under his gaze.

“Yes.” It seems to be the only word you can utter while caught in his stare.

“Yes what, Sweet girl?” He punctuates his question with another kiss on your inner thigh.

Breathing in, trying to collect the words in your head that have scrambled under his touch. You try to sit up more but his hold on your hips doesn’t leave enough leniency to do so. You try to focus on your response through the torturous slow movements he is making.

“Yes, I thought of you while I-.” You stop yourself before revealing too much but it was too late, he is quick to pull you back to it.

“While you what?” You shudder at his words.

The air around him shifts from light and gentle to that of a hungry beast. You stutter but he stops you when he stands to tower over you, hand holding the back next to your head, a predatory glint in his green eyes.

“Were you touching yourself at the thought of me, Y/n?” His face is so close to yours you almost stopped breathing.

“Yes.” You whisper and his chuckle vibrates through you once more.

“How naughty of you. It’s not enough to just have dirty thoughts of your friend’s dad but you just couldn't help but touch this little pussy in the same room as her?” His fingers begin to rub your clothed core, just as you had done not even ten minutes prior, pulling a soft sigh from your lips.

“Is that what gets you off? The thought of getting caught?” He chortles at the idea. “And here I was thinking you were some innocent little flower.”

“What are you going to do to me?” You ask, the words coming out before you can think them through. He pulls away from your ear and looks at you.

“Baby girl, I plan to enjoy you for everything you are. I’m going to lick up all the sweetness that your body has to offer and most importantly I’m going to take much pride in making you a woman.” Your head spins, it’s as if you’ve been holding your breath this whole time and perhaps you have but all you do know is you like what he is saying.

“Really?” It’s all you could think to ask in the moment, like some reassurance that you aren’t making this up.

“Absolutely, if that is what you want.”

“How will you do that?” Cupping your sweet face he gives you another smile.

“You, my sweet girl, are going to lay on my desk while I clean up this messy little pussy of yours with my tongue and all you have to do is try to keep those pretty sounds of yours to yourself. Wouldn't want to get caught now would we?” You nod your head silently, doe eyes looking up through your lashes.

Before you know it you’re weightless when Mr. Yeager picks you up and carries you to the front of his desk. Swiping away the papers that laid there to the floor he replaces them with your back.

Propped up on your elbows you finally take a moment to take in his appearance, a white t-shirt and black pajama pants with a growing bulge becoming apparent. Pulling your eyes away from his body you meet his - a knowing look on his face but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead he takes a seat in the swivel chair behind him. Rolling forward he curls his fingers under the band of your underwear.

“May I?” He asks, even though you were laid before him more than ready for him to strip you bare and devour you.

“Yes.”

Lifting your hips he slowly pulls the last scrap of clothing separating your heat and his gaze. You want to close your legs on reflex but his hot hands stop you. He gently nudges them to the side, spreading you open wider for him. Looking away, unable to look him in the eyes as you sit in this embarrassing position of you being half naked, spread eagle and him fully clothed.

While you aren’t looking you miss the devilish smile that spreads across his face as he looks at your weeping hole. Completely untouched by any other, sickened with need and he holds the cure. He licks his lips as he drags his thumb up your hot folds, sighing hungrely at the moistness. He can’t wait to lick up every bit of it, nothing sweeter than a ripened fruit ready for the picking and he is a starved man.

As he did before, he began to trail kisses down your inner thigh and when he meets your apex he goes to the other, not only to tease you but himself. He wants to see just how far he can push himself and in turn it tests you as well. His hands pull your hips closer to his face, gripping you like a vise.

“Please, Mr. Yeager.” You whine as he blows cold air against your fevered cunt. Your needy plea is music to his ears and without another word he plunges in. Mouth open, licking around your seeping hole, up and down your folds and everywhere his tongue can reach. He moans into your scent, your taste, the feeling of your delicate fingers tangling into his hair. All of it is amazing.

You try to keep your moans in by folding your lips in as you watch the man between your legs eat you out as if you’re his last meal. One hand is firmly planted behind you, nails digging into the edge of the desk, as the other is curled into his chocolate brown locks. You fear that you’ll draw blood if you bite your lips any harder so with your hand still tangled in his hair you fully lay back onto his desk cupping your hand over your mouth.

Your attempt to muffle your moans was lazier than before considering no one else was on the main floor but you still didn’t want to risk it. It was easier to hide your sounds before when it was only you touching you but with someone else you don’t know what to expect. The randomized flicks of his tongue and suctions on your clit get you by surprise and you love it.

“Fuck!” Your whispered cry reaches Mr. Yeager’s ears, drawing his eyes up. Locked in, he stares at you watching him suckle on your clitoris -spinning you into oblivion.

“Mr. Yeager, please- ah.” Your legs wrap around his shoulders for leverage. Your nails scratch at his scalp which pulls another guttural groan from his throat that vibrates against your already sensitive bundle of nerves. His breathing is heavier and his eyes are fiendish as he tries to pull you towards your climax.

“Please, I need you -ah- I need your fingers.” You say, finally being honest of your wants without shame, making the man between your legs chuckle darkly into your sloppy folds.

Happily complying with your needs he unwraps one of his arms around your thighs and puts it between you two. Retracting his lips you whimper at the loss but he coos at you reassuringly.

“Shh shh, quiet down, Sweet girl. I just want to see your pretty pussy stretch around my fingers.” Rubbing his index and middle fingers up and down your folds he collects the mixture of his spit and your slick on his fingertips, teasing your entrance. Lining his fingers up he glances at you before finally pushing his digits in. You moan at the new sensation. You’ve fingered yourself before but it was nothing like this. His fingers were thicker and rougher than yours and reached you further than you could yourself.

“Fuck. So pretty.” He says, to himself, as he admires the way his fingers disappear into your tight hole. Pulling them in and out he watches as your essence coats his fingers before turning his hand up, fingers still inside, to curl them against your g-spot.

You clench around his moving digits and almost didn’t catch the moan that fell from your lips as you adjusted to the new found stretch. You see Mr. Yeager’s emerald eyes darken and an excited grin grew across his face.

“Just like that, Sweetheart, you’re stretching around my fingers so beautifully. So tight and pliable for me. Just listen to the way your sloppy pussy sounds, Babygirl. You’re gushing all over my desk and fingers. Making such pretty moans from just having my fingers. You gonna cum for me, Baby? Cum all over my fingers?” His taunts are a sea of vulgarity and you are drowning in it. captured by the lust that is coursing through you.

“Yes, Mr. Yeager -fuck- yes.” You struggle to keep your voice down. “Please-.” You try to continue but are cut off by the roaring of pleasure shooting your spine, rendering your speech useless.  

“Please what, Y/n? Use your words.” He tries to hold back his amusement as he watches you struggle to compose a simple sentence.

“Make me feel good, Daddy.” The last word fell from your lips before you could stop it, your small moment of realization was so cute to him. Seeing your cheeks flush brighter than before and your fingers covering your mouth makes his chest rumble with desire and a carnivorous smirk cuts across his face.

You try to cover up your words with more musings but your useless sentiments fall on deaf ears.

“Call me that again.”

“Um- ah.” You try to question him but you’re crossed between your embarrassment and the feeling of his fingers rubbing your insides. Getting up Mr. Yeager leans over you combing his fingers back through your hair, holding your face up to his.

Pulling his fingers from your dripping hole, sliding his slick covered digits up and down your folds.

“I said, call me that again.” He cuts off your response by slotting his fingers back inside your aching core, curling and pumping them into you with more zeal than before.

“As long as I am touching you, you’re to refer to me as ‘Daddy’. Can you do that for me, Princess?” Your eyes threaten to roll to the back of your head as your back arches up and your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the uncontrollable moans spilling from your lips. His words, accompanied with the squelching of your cunt as his fingers move inside you, is making it increasingly harder to breathe out a response.

“I can’t hear you.” He says. Trying to collect your thoughts and breath as you tighten your abdomen in an attempt to suppress the overwhelming pleasure that is shooting up your spine to answer him.

“Yes.” You answer shortly but he doesn’t let up, his fingers tighten in your hair making your scalp sting in the best way.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Daddy- ah.”

“Good girl.”

That was it, that one final word snapped the last remaining restraint he had before ripping his digits from your weeping pussy to rub furiously at your throbbing clitoris. A dark satisfied titter vibrates from Mr. Yeager’s chest as you seize up and struggle under his touch.

With eyes screwed shut you try to throw your head back but are held in place by his grip in your hair. One hand is cupped over your sweet lips as your other is holding onto his forearm, digging into his flesh as you're overcome by your orgasm. Rough waves of pleasure crash over you as if you’re stuck between a riptide and a rock wall, being forcefully knocked against it over and over again till your head is spinning.

“Just like that, Baby. You’re cumming so beautifully for me.” His hot breath brushes against you as his voice rings in your ear. His hand doesn’t falter in riding out your intense high till he sees your body beginning to slack and twitch from overstimulation.

Your chest is heaving as your hand falls from your lips and rests on your breast. Your eyes are still closed, relishing in the afterglow of pleasure that was far greater than when you’ve pleasured yourself. Fatigue racks your body as you feel soft lips peppering the curve of your exposed neck with soothing kisses.

“You did so good, Sweetheart.” He coos. His hand between your legs moves to gently rub along your thigh as his other hand untangles from your locks. Sliding his hand up your body he combs a loose strand from your face with a satisfied smile. Opening your tired eyes you gaze into his emerald ones, expectant of his next move as you lick your lips.

He straightens you to an upright position on his desk, standing between your legs he runs his hands down your arms to stroke your hips and thighs. Looking over your body that's clad in nothing but your sleep shirt..

“Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks knowingly.

“Uh huh.” You nod, doe eyed still enthralled in the rush of serotonin and dopamine in your brain.

“Good. Now you should go off to bed before you’re seen missing.” His words snap you back.

“I thought…” You breathe, trailing off a bit embarrassed for expecting that he’d take you but he cups your cheek to direct your gaze back to his. A gentle smile curved on his lips.

“Sweetheart, I intend to follow through with our little arrangement, you just got to be a good girl and be patient. Don’t worry, Daddy will take good care of you.” Your eyes flutter at his words as he combs both hands across your scalp. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Okay.” You smile breathlessly, coyly biting your upper lip.

Letting you down from his desk you put your underwear and shorts back on but before you leave his office he stops you as you open the door.

“Oh, one more thing.” You turn to meet his burning gaze as he walks your way. Standing in front of you holding the door, he on one side and you on the other he leans his face next to yours and whispers his last command in your ear.

“You aren’t to touch yourself till the next time we meet.”

~~~

It’s been a few days since that night in Mr. Yeager’s office and you can’t stop thinking about it. When you’re taking a shower, running errands or going to bed - anytime your mind has space to wonder your thoughts go straight to the way his hands felt on your body. The sound of his voice in your ear and the growing need for him. You see the bulge in his pants in your mind's eye and can’t help but lick your lips at the thought of it, thinking of how it will look, how it’d taste and most importantly how it’d feel inside you.

Would it feel the same as the times you’ve shoved a toy inside your snatch, trying to fuck yourself? Would it feel like anything you’ve ever experienced with yourself before?

You know the answer to that already.

His fingers already pleased you more than any toy had. You can only imagine how his cock would stretch you out. How good it’d feel to have his weight on your chest, holding you down as he plowed into your aching body. Just the thought of it is enough to make you cream your panties.  

To distract yourself from your lust filled thoughts you go to check the mail and see your friend and her mom pulling out of the driveway and standing at their doorway is Mr. Yeager, his eyes move up to catch you from across the street. Your stomach flutters when a grin graces his handsome face. His gaze lingers on you a little longer than what’d be normal as a friendly greeting between neighbors before he finally turns and goes back inside.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Was he trying to tell you something with his eyes? Should you go over there?

Your mind is racing a million miles per minute trying to conjure up your next move.

I’m going over!

You make the choice without a second thought. Running upstairs you go to your room to make sure you are ready. Looking in the mirror you examine yourself. You were wearing jeans and a white tank top with a warm brown cardigan draped on your shoulders, the only thing you changed was your undergarments to ensure they matched.

Staring yourself down in the mirror you take a few deep breaths trying not to overthink it.

You’re just going to go over there and lose your virginity to your best friend’s dad. It’s no big deal. You try to tell yourself over and over that everything is just fine, you’re both adults and besides this is something you’ve been wanting for years.

Before you can back out you knock on the door three times and wait with your hands behind your back, rocking on your heels anxiously. You straighten your gaze when you hear footsteps and the lock clicks before the door is swung open to a smoldering Mr. Yeager. He stands there in his well fitted jeans and a t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination. When his emerald eyes glaze over your waiting form a smirk pulls at his lips.

“Well hello, Y/n. What can I do for you?” He asks nonchalantly.

“Well um-” You comb a strand of hair behind your ear trying to find the words you didn’t think of before you came knocking on his door. Wanting to not come off as totally helpless you try to muster up as much alluring calm you can as your heart is beating rapidly against your chest.

“I saw that you were home alone and thought I’d come give you some company.” You smile up at him, biting your bottom lip. His response comes with an amused huff as he opens the door further for you.

“I’d love that.”

Walking in he offers to take your sweater to which you accept. Standing behind you, his breath brushes your ear as he slips the cardigan from your arms placing a gentle yet sensual kiss upon your bare shoulder.

“You look beautiful today, as always.” He says in your ear before he walks past you to hang the discarded article, like he didn’t  just set your nerves on fire.

What you didn’t see, while your heart was beating like a drum in your chest, was the satisfied and conniving smirk Mr. Yeager had but soon hid when he turned back to you.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Um sure.” You didn’t specify what exactly but either way would be nice to distract you. Besides, if he gives you anything with an alcohol content you wouldn’t be too mad. God knows you might need something to take the edge off of your nerves.

Returning with your drinks the two of you sit on the couch much like you had the first night this started between you. Whatever *this* is.

“Tell me Y/n, have you been a good girl since we’ve been apart?” His question almost made you choke on your drink. Swallowing you put your glass on the coffee table as you catch the amusement on his face at your surprise.

“What do you mean?” Leaning forward, his hand rests on your crossed knee allowing his breath to invade your space.

“I’m asking you if you’ve touched yourself since we’ve last seen eachother or if you’ve been good and refrained as I’ve instructed.” He curls a hair behind your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Looking up through your lashes you shake your head slowly.

“I was good like you asked.” He sighs, pleased with your answer and your wording especially.

“That’s my good girl. Just so obedient aren’t ya’?” You hum in agreement, slowly getting lulled into his subtle touch that’s trailing down your neck.

You sigh as his hot lips meet your pulse, gently sucking the skin making a pink bloom appear. His lips are but a breath away as he locks eyes with you.

“Tell me, Y/n, you didn’t just come here to talk did you?” You shake your head, your lower lip caught between your teeth.

“No? Then tell me, Babygirl, what could’ve possibly brought you over here when my wife and daughter are out?” He flashes you knowing smirk again.

Eren is enjoying the view of you beginning to squirm under his gaze. Your exposed cleavage from your tank top moving up and down with every ever increasing breath at his words, at the thoughts that must be going through your pretty little head.

You’re so innocent.

Untouched and he can’t wait to get his filthy hands all over your pristine body. He wants to walk all over you like freshly fallen snow on Christmas morning but not before he’s properly teased you. He wants to see just how far he can bend you. How much it would take to have you breathless and begging for him to take you. Begging him to stretch out your tight unused hole. He licks his lips at just the thought of your pretty pussy dripping all over for him again. Your face all scrunched up in pleasure before he spoils your body with his cock, making you cry out beneath him.

“Well I-” You swallow and take a deep breath. “I wanted to see you again. Wanted to feel you again.” You say inching towards his face daringly. Eren would be lying if he said he didn’t like your timid boldness.

“That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say.” A sinister glint flashes in his emerald hues before he catches your lips with his for the first time. If given the chance you would’ve laughed at the fact that his lips had met the ones between your legs sooner than the ones on your face but his all consuming kiss wiped those thoughts away.

His lips are soft and plush against yours. His tongue explores your mouth as he steals the breath from your lungs. You cup his clean shaved face as his hands slide up your sides, squeezing and groping as he makes his way up to your breasts. You gasp into his mouth as his large hands knead at your clothed swells. Both your hands are resting on his shoulders now as you lean closer to his body. Your hands move up his neck to tangle your fingers in his chocolate locks, wanting so badly to ruffle his perfectly tied up hair. The adrenaline in your veins begins to flood your system making your heart race faster. Each pound against your ribcage; a demand.

Closer. 

More. 

Closer.

Your fingertips play with the loose strands at the nap of his neck as you shift to sit on your knee to lean into him more. In all this excitement to give yourself fully to him you are stopped by one of his hands moving to your neck, index finger and thumb gripping your jaw. Looking into his eyes your tummy flutters cause you can see the heat in his green gaze, simmering behind his pupils.

“I’m sorry.” You say, trying to sit back but his grip holds you in place. His other hand moves from your breast up to rake back your hair.

“No, don’t apologize, Sweetheart. You’re eager, I like that. But not yet. Not here.”

“Not here?” You furrow your bows confused as to what he meant.

“Don’t you think if we’re going to commit to this sinful act then we should do it right? If I’m going to have you it won't be in my office and it won't be on the couch. It will be in my bed.” He pauses, “ Is that okay?” His hot breath brushes your lips, melting you in his hands and you just nod your head in a daze.

~~~

He closes the door behind him and for the first time ever you are standing in his bedroom -the one he shares with his wife. You’re  taking one step back for every advancing one he takes towards you till the back of your knees are stopped by the foot of the bed.

Standing before you, loose strands of hair framing his handsome face. He cups your cheeks in his hands like he’s holding a precious gem.

“Is this what you still want?” He asks, waiting for your response you nod your head slowly.

“Yes.”

“Good. Sit on the bed.” You do as instructed and sink down onto the mattress. Your eyes move down his body, wanting to rip off every scrap of clothing that covers his hot skin, and back up to meet his pleased stare.

“Tell me, Baby, what do you want to do first?” He asks, brushing his knuckles across your cheekbone. The air in your throat becomes thick, threatening to choke you. “Don’t be shy, tell Daddy what you want.” He coxes you further into lust, your mind already spinning and he’s hardly even touched you.

“I want your shirt off.” You say in an exhale. Wetting your dry lips with your tongue you watch as he carries out your simple wish.

His eyes never leave yours as he stands in front of you slowly trailing his hands down to the hem of his shirt, watching your eyes follow his movements. Fingers grip the cotton fabric and slowly pull it up to expose his toned midriff. As his arms move up his frame, you admire the way every muscle flexes and contracts as he strips himself for your viewing. Lean abs and chiseled pecs reveal themselves as he pulls his top over his head, bare arms flex and ripple with toned biceps before tossing the unwanted cloth to the side.

Your breath stutters as you breathe in, lips parted slightly. He looks godly and he’s only taken off his shirt. No one's dad had any right to look this hot.

“Is that all, Baby? Or do you want to see more?” He asks knowingly. He tries to restrain the chuckle brewing in his chest from coming out as he looks at your dazed look. You’re like a doe in headlights, looking at him all wide eyed and in need for more.

“Uh huh.” You nod your head, clenching your thighs together in an effort to ease the ache between them.

Undoing his belt and pulling it slowly through the loops he tosses it aside, then undoes his jeans. Your eyes follow his meticulous fingers unhooking the button and dragging the zipper down. You try not to stare too hard but you can’t help it.

He now stands in front of you in nothing but his black boxer briefs, a clear bulge begging to be freed. You breathe in as you stare at his waist, your bottom lip is pinched between your teeth but your eyes dart up to his as you hear a breathy laugh echo in the room.

“Naughty girl, you know it’s not nice to stare.” He scolds playfully as he takes a few steps towards you, closing the gap between him and the foot of the bed. “Is this what you want, Babygirl?” He asks, his hand gripping his thickening length over his underwear creating a sigh that escapes his throat. You nod your head eagerly in response.

Standing but a few inches away from you, your eyes look through your lashes at the man standing above you. Bringing one hand up you place your palm on his thigh.

“I want to do what you did to me in your office.” You heard a low hum that almost verged on a growl in response..

You can’t talk to him like that.

It’s already taking everything in him not to flip you over and take you right now. The way you’re looking up at him so innocently, seeking guidance in his wisdom of the things done behind closed doors. He wants so badly to tear every scrap of clothing off your untainted body and carve his hands across it. Mark your body, claim it as his own. But not yet.

Instead he brushes your cheek sweetly once more and smiles down at your open face.

“You want to please me with your mouth?”

“Yes. Show me how to do it.” Unknowingly you’re really trying his willpower with everything you say.

“Of course but first let's take this off, if that’s okay.” His hands grab the hem of your tank top then begin to pull it up over your head, slowly, waiting for any restraint but none comes. You just watch his eyes hungrily take in every inch of your exposed skin.

You hold back the urge to cross your arms over your bra clad breasts. Instead your attention is brought back to him as he combs his hands back through your hair, pulling your strands to direct your face up to his.

“Pull down my underwear.” Without another word you do as you’re instructed. Shaky fingers wrap around the band of the last piece of clothing separating you from his manhood. You slowly pull them down, his muscular thighs flex at the gentle touch of your fingertips. Unable to take your eyes off his, you blindly unleash his erection.

Without any word from him you instinctively wrap your hand around his shaft, he hisses through his teeth at the sudden contact. You can’t look down but you can feel how thick he is in your palm, your fingers strain to wrap fully around his girth. You take an experimental stroke along his length which is rewarded with a low groan.

“Look at you, already knowing what to do.” He says, amusement lacing his words. His grip on your hair slacks and you finally glance down to your hand that is slowly moving up and down his thick shaft. You swallow as you gaze upon his rather large member.

“Hmm, that feels nice, Baby. Use both your hands.” He takes your other hand and assists in your movements. His fingers are wrapped around your wrists, slowly  jerking himself off with your smaller hands.

“Just like that -ha- keep going. Squeeze me tighter” His praise fills your chest up like a balloon as you fall into a rhythm.

But you want more.

Your hands work his shaft a bit faster than before earning you another groan. His eyes are still burrowing into you, taking in all that you are and what you’re doing at this moment. Wetting your lips you hold him in one hand and rest the other on his thigh as you timidly lean forward and brush the tip of your tongue over the head of his penis, his lips curve hungrily as this.

“Your tongue feels so nice, do that again for me.”

“Like this?” You ask, wanting to hear more of his praise and need for your touch. Dragging your tongue up the underside of his shaft, never breaking eye contact, his muscles tremble slightly under your hand.

“Oh, just like that, Babygirl.” He says with a deep growl. He grabs his member from your hand and tangles his fist in your locks. “Open wide for me.” He says pressing his  tip to your parted lips, a bead of precum ready for you to taste dribbles out. Looking up at him, your hands rest on his thighs, mouth open with your tongue hanging out. The perfect image of a submissive, making the fire in his chest blaze hotter with every passing moment he doesn’t have his cock in your mouth.

He inserts himself into your mouth and lets out a drawn out moan as you greedily begin to suck his tip. His other hand combs into your soft hair as he begins to softly rock you up and down his shaft, slowly and steadily to ensure your comfort.

But he doesn’t want to be gentle with you.

He wants to use your mouth like the perfect toy he knows it is. He wants to fuck your throat till tears streak down your cheeks and you’re covered in drool and cum. Gasping and spitting before him with that fucked out expression he needs to see plastered on your pretty face. He grits his teeth at the thought and holds back.

“So good. So pretty. Ha- just like that, Princess. You look so good with my cock in your mouth.” His honey rich affirmations make your body hotter. Your fingers gripping his thighs tighten, digging your nails into his flesh as he gently pumps into your willing mouth, jaw becoming sore from the wide expansion you’re not used to. Breaking from his eyes you look down to realize he hasn’t sheathed himself fully into your mouth, you’re only fitting half of him.

You want more.

More of his songs of praise.

More of his pleasure.

Your chest swells at the knowledge that you’re the one making him feel good. That the guttural moans and pleased sighs are all for you and from your doing. But you’re desperate to go further.

Wrapping one hand around the base of his cock you look up through your lashes as you try to swallow more of his length. You find that it is much harder than porn makes it look and you gag on his tip when it hits the back of your throat but you persist and you’re glad you did. At your attempts to take more of him Mr. Yeager chuckles down to you through sighs.

“Is my Baby Girl hungry for more of Daddy’s cock?” He asks teasingly, pulling your mouth back from his throbbing length. Once detached you gasp for air, a line of spit going down your chin. Cupping your cheeks his thumb whips the spittle and a few stray tears away, crouching before you.

“You did so good for your first time but let's not get too ahead of ourselves.” He smiles at your panting expression before placing a chased kiss upon your spit slicked lips.

Standing up fully you watch from your seated position as he walks around you out of sight. You feel the mattress dip behind you as he crawls on. A shiver goes down your spine as his rough knuckles drag a slow line down from the nape of your neck to the line of your bra. His breath cascades over you as he leans into your back placing gentle kisses along your bare shoulder.

“Can I take this off?” He asks between soft pecks.

“Yes.” You say breathlessly, you can feel him grin against your skin as his fingers make work on the clasps of your bra. The garment slacks at your front, you allow it to fall down your arms as you close your eyes, getting lost in the sensual caresses of the man behind you. One hand glides up your side as the other grabs the discarded article from your lap, tossing it to the floor.

Before you know it you're hauled further onto the mattress, a surprised gasp falls from your parted lips. You’re laid on your back, bare chested, lips swollen from kissing and sucking. You watch Mr. Yeager in all his naked glory crawl to your feet to part your legs. His green eyes flick to you questioningly as his hands move to undo the button of your jeans. You silently nod allowing him access.

Now you’re laid in nothing but your underwear. You’ve never been this exposed to anyone  before, especially a man, and your body is buzzing with excitement and nervousness as your legs are parted for him to rest between. His body covers yours, forearms dig into the mattress next to your head. You shyly drag your palms up his sides, needing to touch him again, never looking from his gaze. He breathes in from your delicate touch and leans in to catch your lips in an urgent kiss. Your teeth knock together in the frenzy of your tongues dancing for dominance, not that you had a chance. Everything about Mr. Yeager exuded confidence and control. His very being demanded submission and you were a willing victim.

You moan into his lips as he begins to rut his hard cock against your clothed heat. Your hands find their way to his hair, uncaring in their needy tugs at his roots. Loose strands hang around his face tickling your cheeks. He pulls back allowing you air, his hips rock against you with force pulling another beautiful mewl from you.

“Your voice is so pretty. Do you like the way I feel against you?”

“Yes, Daddy.” His eyes darken, pleased with the needy lilt in your voice.

You’re so meek and malleable under him. He hasn’t had this kind of thrill in a long time. He’s been married for nearly two and a half decades to a woman that hasn’t given him a proper fuck in years, seemingly only willing to exert enough energy to get it over with. But here and now he has a pretty young thing writhing underneath him seeking for the excitement he has wanted for so long. Seeking release from her lifelong virtue. Seeking him. And who was he to deny an eager young woman like yourself.

Snaking a hand between your bodies he brushes his fingertips over your aching core. You’re surprised gasp turns to a soft moan at the sudden contact. His fingers fondle your clothed lips, feeling the small damp spot growing in the center.

“Hmm, I can feel how wet you’re for me already, Baby. Have I excited you so much already?”

“Mhm.” You sigh as pleasure crawls up your spine in a wave thick like molasses.

The world around you melts away as you let yourself sink into the pool of pleasure surrounding you. His weight of muscle and heat holds you down, dousing you in his musky scent of mint and pine. The ends of his hair graze your flushed cheeks, reaching up you untangle the loop in his hair letting it fall down around his face. He sighs happily as you scrape your fingers across his scalp, combing his hair back, fingers tangling in his strands as his touch narrows in on your neglected clit that is pulsating, begging to be touched under your panties.

“Please, Daddy.” You whine, eyes scrunched closed trying to hold onto any loose threads of pleasure that dangle in front of you.

“Please, what?” He asks, placing a wet kiss on your neck. “I will give you whatever you need, Princess but you have to tell Daddy what that is?” Kisses along the expanse of your neck and chest break up his words, melting you further into the mattress. Gathering your breath you finally get the words out.

“I need your fingers, please.” You beg, uncaring of how you sound. He loves it.  

Without another word Mr. Yeager pulls away to rest back on his knees, hands sweeping down your frame as he curls his digits under the waist of your panties. He looks between his hands and your eyes for any objections, although he knew there’d be none, before stripping the last scrap of clothing between the two of you.

Laid out completely bare for the first time you unconsciously cross your arms lightly over your chest, feeling a confounding combination of feeling over exposed and in need of more. Sitting between your spread knees, Mr. Yeager balls up the piece of lace in his fist before bringing them to his face to inhale your scent.

Your lips part lustfully at the erotic act of the well experenced man above you. The satisfied hum that leaves his throat warms your belly, stirring your insides like a cauldron beginning to boil over with anticipation.

His eyes sear into your exposed skin in calculated swipes, ensuring no patch of heated flesh goes unseen.

“So beautiful.” He breathes, tossing aside the useless fabric. His rough hands slide from your bent knees, down your thighs to rest on your hips. In a swift jerk he pulls your hips closer to his to lean over you. His attentive lips create a trail from your jaw down your neck, over the cusps of your breasts, along your belly, till he reaches your hip. Hunkered down between your legs he spreads them wider, looking you in the eyes as he peppers your inner thigh with wet kisses up to your knee and then the same on the other.  

Your breaths are coming out labored in unbridled want as you stare into Mr. Yeager’s hypnotic emerald green gaze. You bite your lips together with doe eyes as he props himself on his elbows, one arm curled around your left thigh as the other moves in front of him.

He brushes his index and middle finger up your folds in a ghosting touch, a small whimper escapes your lips making him sigh with contentment.

“You look so beautiful laid out for me.” He says, his digits sliding along your slit with ease. “You’re the cutest shade of pink right now. Are you that excited to have me touching you?”

“Yes.” You say automatically, breathlessly.

“Such a shame it took us so long to do this.” He smiles. “Ever since you were in my office, legs spread wide for me, I haven’t been able to stoping thinking about this.” His statement is punctuated by his thick fingers pushing into your dripping core.

You let out a short groan at the stretch you’ve missed since you last had his fingers, and you weren’t alone in that craving. Mr. Yeager hums darkly as your hot cunt squeezes his digits like a vise. Curling and manipulating his fingers within your walls, he pulls moans and sweet whines from your lips.

He lets out a satisfied sigh of his own. “Ever since you walked out of my office I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you again. Wanting to stretch out this pretty little pussy for me. To taste the sweetness that oozes out of it. Everything.” His hungry words melt over you as his digits curl inside your gummy walls. You don’t even try to hide the pathetic whines and whimpers that come out of your mouth.

“That’s it, Sweetheart, let me hear how I make you feel. Don’t hold anything back from me.” He encourages you, pushing in a third thick finger -one your body accepts happily. Your tight sheath accommodates his wide stretched fingers as if you were made to have them inside you. A strangled mewl leaves your lips as the tightening in your belly grows but isn’t enough to snap your tie to sanity. Rocking your hips against his fingers you scrounge for your own pleasure. A sight he gladly accepts.

“Such a needy girl you are. Trying to fuck yourself on my fingers? Does this little pussy need me that badly?”

“Yes.” You whine in response.

Since it’s your first time Eren decides to indulge your needs. Usually he’d deny you such a luxury. Play with and taunt you till you’re crying, begging to be filled and fucked anyway he saw fit. But he wants to make this special for you -a first time worth remembering. However, that doesn’t mean he’s not going to enjoy himself while doing it.

With his fingers still plugged inside your dripping core he latches onto your clit, rolling the hardened bud between his tongue and teeth. Your head rolls back and a howl of pleasure erupts from your throat. Digging your nails into the sheets, your hips begin to rock against Mr. Yeager’s face and fingers. The combo of his meticulous digits and his hot wet tongue was unholy but not as blasphemous as looking down to see that his eyes haven’t left you.

His emerald gaze is trained on every little reaction you have, determined to drink in every moment of your intense pleasure.

“Fuck. I’m gonna -ah.” Your pleasure filled exclamation was cut off by your first orgasm, washing over you in intense waves. Your hips begin to stutter in their movements as your high begins to dip before relaxing fully into the mattress. Detaching his mouth with a wet smack, Mr. Yeager props himself up.

“So fucking beautiful.” He purrs, looking down at the junction between your legs as he slowly unsheathes his fingers, you sigh from the emptiness.

Your tired eyes flutter as you watch him slowly lick and suck his fingers clean of your white cream, drawing a pleased hum from his chest. Rubbing his hands up and down your legs once more he sinks his fists into the mattress on either side of you and begins to crawl up till his body is parallel to yours. His forearm rests beside your head as his other hand gently strokes your side and hip so softly it almost tickles.

“You still okay?” He asks, you nod. “Good.”

Breaking your staring contest he reaches over to his night stand to grab a foil packet.

As much as he’s dreamed of fucking you raw and filling your swollen cunt with his cum, that will have to come after he’s ensured you’re on proper birth control. Because he can already tell by the neediness in your eyes this will not be the last time he lays between your legs -God willing.

Sitting back, allowing you an unhindered view of his strong body and flexing cock, Mr. Yeager tears open the condom and rolls it down his throbbing shaft. Taking his covered cock in his hand he begins to slowly rub it between your folds. The feeling of his thich latex covered tip teasing your wet hole and slick lower lips is enough to kick start your heart again, your chest rising with increasing breath of anticipation.

“Is this what you want, Sweetheart? It’s okay if it’s not.”

As much as it killed Eren to say it he saw the nervousness all over your face along with the glimmer of lust in your eyes. You nod your head again in agreement. Leaning down with his forearm pressed firmly into the mattress beside your head once again, his nose almost touching yours.

“I need to hear you say it, Y/n.” He reiterates in a lower hushed tone.

“Yes, I want this. Just stay like this… if that's okay?” Petting your head Mr. Yeager gives you a comforting smile.

“Of course. Besides, I want to see the look in your eyes as I take your virginity.” His words flood your body with another wave of heat.

His strong hand keeps petting and playing with your hair as his other hand resumes messing in your wet pussy lips with his cock tip. You both sigh with anticipation. Your hands hold onto his sides as you feel the thick crest of his cock force itself past the tight ring of your entrance.

“Fuck.” His voice is deep and restraining.

There is nothing more he wants to do than plow into your sweet little cunt. Stretch it with his cock. Ruin you for any and every other man. Fuck you hard and deep in every position imaginable till he is the only man that your cute little head thinks about. The only man that can truly satisfy you.

Your virginal hole contracts around his girth. Soft whimpers slip past your lips. His hips are slow in their movements. Painstakingly holding himself back from taking what he’s waited so long to have. Savoring the way your body grips him, inside and out. Your nails dig into his sides and rack up his back till your arms are wrapped around his shoulders holding him close.

Your face is scrunches up in a mix of pain and pleasure. The actual penetration isn’t what hurts but it’s the fullness you are experiencing. Your pussy cramps around his cock in the most delicious way as you try to allow your body to accept every inch of him.

“You’re doing so good, Princess.” He coos into your ear. Cradling your face in one hand you look up at him. “You’re taking my cock so well. Such a good girl.” His praises wash over you. You want to do good for him. You want to take all his cock. Whimpering you wrap your ankles around the back of his calves. And in one final push Eren is fully seated in your tight walls. Your collective voices harmonize in unanimous pleasure.

Allowing your body to grow used to accommodating his manhood, Eren captures your lips in a heated kiss. Devouring your mouth, he can’t get enough of you. He assaults your mouth with his tongue like he wants to with his cock. It is taking every grain of willpower in him to not destroy you in all the delectable ways he’s played out in his head but your perfectly tight snatch hugging his shaft is making it increasingly hard.

There will be time to indulge his fantasies. He knows by the star struck gleam in your eyes. You’re hooked and your dumb little head doesn’t even know it yet.

“I’m gonna start moving.” He smiles at your whimpered response and excited nod.

Slowly a smooth rhythm has been set. Not too hard and not too soft, Mr. Yeager’s hips move against yours.

“Please -ah.” You don’t know what you’re even asking for, just that you are asking for more.

More of his touch. More of his words. More of his dominance. You’ve seen the way he looks at you, especially the night in his office. The way he towered over you, demanding you spill the naughty act you committed in his house and in your friend’s room no less. The thrill of having him wrapped around your finger but none of the power, that is what you wanted. That’s what you’ve been craving all this time.

“Please what, baby girl?” He asks, his voice heavy with breath.

“I need- I need you.” You whimper pathetically, making him titter darkly.

“Sweetheart, you already have me balls deep in you. What more could I possibly give you?”

“I- I-.” You can’t think straight. His cock is stirring everything up inside you, you can’t find the words of what you need. “More. Please, Daddy. More.” You beg but little did you know that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

“Such a needy little girl. So selfish. Is what I’m giving you not enough? Do I need to teach you to be careful of what you ask for, Princess?” His deep voice vibrates against your chest as one of his hands pushes between your joined bodies and begins rubbing circles on your sensitive clitoris.

Your head falls back from the added stimulation. His hips pick up the pace ever so slightly as his words continue to flood your ears. He hand tangled in your hair, lightly pulling at your roots.

“Is this what you wanted, Beautiful? You want me to fuck into? Play with your little clit as you cream all over my cock? To think I was going easy on you for your first time but you don’t want me to be gentle with you, huh? You want me to fuck your sweet little pussy till there’s no thoughts left in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Those are the only two words your scattered brain can form. Over and over, that’s all your responses are made up of.

He’s right. You may have never had sex before but this is what you wanted. You wanted to be taken. To be used. You wanted to feel the full force of the man above you. Looking up through your lashes, your mouth ajar letting your obscene moans fill the room, you lock eyes with the hungry-predatory gaze of Mr. Yeager.

“Your cunt is squeezing me so tightly, Princess. Are you about to cum all over my cock? Make a mess of yourself as I fuck into you?”

“Yes.”

And you were. The familiar tightness wells up in your belly. The tantalizingly-torturous ache of your impending drop off so close you can almost taste it and how sweet it is. Your legs wrap around Mr.Yeager’s waist, encouraging his steadfast hips to keep pummeling your core. His finger scratching your clit doesn't falter making your nails dig into anything they touch; his back, shoulders, scalp - you name it. It’s sickening that no matter how close he is or how much he pours himself into you, it just doesn’t feel like enough.

“Please, Daddy, ‘m so close.” You pant against his lips.

“I know, Sweetness. Fucking take my cock, that’s it. Feel how I stretch you out. How I play with your body. Fucking hell, you’re amazing. Damn it.” His crass praises are chopped up by his own grunts and groans and continue to play in your ears till finally his hips have pushed you over the edge.

Your head digs back into the pillows, eyes shut tight and mouth in an ‘O’. Sitting back on his knees, still stimulating your clit and hand gripping your hip for leverage, Mr. Yeager helps you ride out your orgasm. Bullying your convulsing cunt with this throbbing cock, his balls tighten in sync with your contracting walls -threatening to spill into the condom.

“That’s it, beautiful. Fuck. You look so perfect cumming on my cock. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

Eren’s movements aren’t so quick to slow to your declining high. He is still chasing his own.

“Daddy- ah.” You cry from overstimulation. Gripping his wrist that rests between your legs you push at his hand that is soon to retract from your abused clit to clamp down on your other hip like a vice as he fucks into you. A string of curses and guttural moans follow the next few stuttering pumps as his climax draws near and in one final push he is undone. His cock twitches inside your exhausted walls as his sack tightens and spits out his white hot cum.

His hips come to a halt completely sheathed after a few last slow pumps till he was milked fully of all his seed. Resting above you, a forearm on either side of your head, you lay there connected in shared bliss and fatigue. Your chests push against each other as you try to catch your breaths. As your mind tries to piece together all that has happened, Mr. Yeager was the first to speak.

“Are you okay, Sweetheart?”

“Yeah. More than okay, I feel amazing.” Your honesty pulls a tired chuckle from his chest.

“Good. I was worried I may have gone too rough on you but now that I know you can handle it and more importantly liked it, I’ll be sure to remember that for next time.” He smiles, and his grin only grows more carnivorous with your next question.

“There’s gonna be a next time?”

“Sweetheart after getting a taste of you, and if it were up to me, I’d never let you leave this bed. But that is only if you want me too.”

“I do.” You say almost instantaneously. He already knew your answer but it felt so good to hear it aloud.

“Perfect.” He says finally before slowly pulling out of you.

Throwing away the solid condom he comes back in to see you propped up on your forearms, your naked body half covered with a throw blanket. Getting into the bed next to you he pulls you in for a tender kiss before lying down.

“I thought you weren’t done with me.” You pout, draping your arm across his bare chest but Mr. Yeager just shushes you and presses your head against his shoulder and soothingly runs his fingers along your spine.

“All in good time my greedy little princess. Unfortunately we can’t continue any longer today. So just lay here and rest with me before I take you home.”

This was long and kinda rushed at the end but I've procrastinated my way out of finishing and editing this long enough to I hope you enjoyed it.

Feedback and interaction is always appreciated :)

💛 ~

~ Valentine’s Masterlist ~ ~ Masterlist ~

[thefanficmonster]

Change of Heart

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A simp like Y/N is known to frequently 'fall' for people left and right, her most current crushes being the content creators Dream and Sykkuno. But she's in for a surprise when she meets their mutual friend.

Requested by @im-honeybee Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request! I'm so sorry for the long with but I hope the fic makes up for it and fulfills your expectations. Enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

"Leslie, this is a horrible idea! What the hell am I gonna say to them?! I have no topics prepared and I definitely can't just gush and drool over them for three hours straight." Y/N all but yells into the phone which is currently connecting her to her best friend who also happens to be a popular streamer - Fuslie. She's been ruthless on trying to get her friend to develop the courage to meet her idols but Y/N's refused every single time. To be fair, calling them 'idols' isn't exactly correct considering she doesn't have idols. What she does have is a herd of people she simps for shamelessly. Herd might seem like an over-exaggeration to some but it's a spot-on term to describe her situation. There's always a top tier of said herd which usually consists of three people. As of recent, however, there have only been two, both popular streamers by the names of Dream and Sykkuno.

"Why on Earth would you have to exercise topics in advance? You won't be delving into philosophy and nuclear physics with them! Just be friendly and be yourself." Leslie comforts her, not looking forward to having to deal with her friend's panicking ass until the stream starts. She now regrets managing to talk the girl into this when she was slightly tipsy last night - plus it might be breaking some law but whatever.

"Which one, I can't be both!" Y/N exclaims, running a hand through her hair as she paces through the living room, much to the confusion of her puppy who's following her movements with his gaze from his spot on the couch.

"Figure it out! Flip a coin! I don't know! I gotta go now, I have things to do. Kiss Lux for me. Love ya, bye!" Leslie replies, all in one breath, before hanging up the call, rendering her friend unable to complain further and keep her on the phone any longer. She maybe doesn't have things to do as she said, but she really doesn't want to remain in that awkward position.

"Wait! Hey!....Hello?" Realizing the line's gone dead Y/N pulls the phone away from her ear, "Screw you, Leslie!"

Her shriek of frustration scares poor Lux, catching his owner's attention and filling her with a tinge of guilt.

"Oh, I'm sorry baby. You'd be mad too if your friend did that to you." She says with a sigh, sitting back down and allows the small puppy to climb onto her lap. "What would you do if you had to meet two hugely popular streamers in less than an hour?" She actually pauses as if expecting an answer from the puppy who's only grown more confused and is looking at her with a concerned gaze, "Fuck, I'm asking a fucking animal how I should handle a situation a person half my age would be able to figure out easier." She huffs and stands up, whisking Lux up as she does so.

In her defense, she doesn't go on the internet actively looking for attractive content creators. It's literally destiny that she comes across them. Truth be told, it may be because she knows she'll never get around to dating them which probably sounds weird but allow me to explain.

If she never dates them, they can never hurt her.

She's had her fair share of damn-that-was-a-mistake type of relationships and she finds comfort in the fact that the majority of these people she'll probably never even meet. Well, in about forty minutes Dream and Sykkuno will be the two exceptions to that rule but the point still stands - no dating, no hurt, no money spent on post-breakup ice-cream.

Ok, she buys ice-cream anyway but I digress.

Y/N walks into her office where she spends a lot of time hunched over a tablet and/or a notepad she calls 'Ideatopia' due to how many designs have been jotted down in it with a very few of them making it in front of the eyes of the person or people who requested it be made. She keeps herself busy enough to not accidentally meet anyone decent in her day-to-day life but allows herself free time to browse the web for clearance of her mind.

In short, she's not a romantic but only when the romance is real and she's a workaholic only when she doesn't hang out and watch Minecraft streams.

Y/N sets Lux down on the soft fuzzy carpet where he immediately rolls over and enjoys its comfort. She boots up her PC, moving the tablet out of the way as to position the computer screen in the center of the desk. Plugging in her headset she can't help but sigh, fighting the instinct that's psyching her out.

Fucking hell, Y/N, they're just people. You don't take anyone you meet IRL this seriously. Although that may be cause they don't have millions of followers but that's besides the point.

Or maybe that's the whole point. She doesn't want to think of herself as a shallow person because she's not one, but it's almost second nature to feel a lot more nervous in the presence of someone who can be considered famous.

She sits down in her comfortable desk chair, curtesy of Leslie herself who knows how hard her friend works and knew the perfect gift to buy her for Christmas. She spins in it once, and then again, and then once more, giggling at her childish behavior. Hearing Lux bark, she pauses to let him jump into her lap again so they can both spin on the chair, surrounding them with a careless aura she hopes will carry over into the stream and won't let her lose her cool.

"Here goes nothing." She tells the puppy but is speaking more to herself, if she's being honest.

Lux is too comfortable to be bothered to find himself a new place to sleep so Y/N doesn't even try to ditch him, hoping his presence will have a calming effect on her.

She equips her headset, pushing its microphone down so it's about two inches away from her lips. She opens Discord and joins the VC Leslie told her to hop in earlier during the phone call. Y/N's hands have gone cold with anticipation and nervousness but regardless she proceeds to follow through with it.

"Hello?" She greets the already present players shyly, her voice barely heard which was actually her intention. The quieter she sounds the more invisible she'll feel, right?

"Hi!! Guys, this is my friend Y/N, the one I was telling you about." Leslie hurries to introduce the girl, giving her a momentary sense of relief cause she didn't mention anything else. That relief didn't last for long though...."And Dream, Sykkuno, she thinks you two are pretty damn cool."

Fuck you, Leslie.

The poor girl's face turns bright red at the statement. She hurries to hide it in her hands, hoping they'll cool down her burning cheeks, the embarrassment having turned them into stove burners.

"That's really nice of her. Thank you, Y/N." Sykkuno replies, ever the kind soul he is.

"Yeah, it's super flattering!" Dream agrees, "Now you're obligated to have my number and give me yours."

This actually manages to get a laugh out of her, the lightheartedness helping with her overdose of shame.

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind that." She can practically imagine Leslie winking as she says that which only irritates her more but she's never really been able to stay mad at her best friend so she knows she won't be able to make it last.

"Oh so no love for the rest of us? Wooowww." Childishly complains a voice she's not familiar with. One that catches Y/N completely off-guard with how deep it is. Had she been any cheesier she would've though it was mesmerizing to hear. Never mind, she is that cheesy.

"Holy shit, who's that?!" She asks with an exaggerated theatrical gasp that is halfway her real reaction to what she's just heard.

"That's Corpse Husband, the horror storyteller turned pro impostor in Among Us." Her best friend dramatically introduces the man who's left Y/N in a state of complete whiplash.

"Tis I. Waddup baby?" He wastes no time using his weaponized voice and charm on her as if he's not astonished her enough already. Corpse secretly enjoys putting new-comers in a state of disbalance like this but he'd never admit it.

"Um...hi! Wassup? Nice voice." One would this Y/N is actively trying to show how flustered she is but believe it or not this is her while trying to conceal it. Imagine if she wasn't.

"Thanks." He wheezes in amusement, "I like yours too."

"Great," his correspondent says with a newfound mirage of confidence, "Now you're obligated to have my number and give me yours."

This is more than enough to get the whole VC roaring up in laughter.

"Fucking hell, Corpse! You can't just sweep in and steal our girl like that!" Dream complains halfheartedly as he continues chuckling.

"Get yourself a voice changer and you'll be able to pick up girls as well." The accused teases his fellow faceless streamer.

"That's not fair!" The blond whines.

"Y/N, you've been here less than five minutes and have already left two guys hanging. Damn!" Rae - who Y/N has met before and grown to be friends with - laughs, enjoying the show her friends have put on.

"What can I say." The girl chuckles, her face now deep red but she still manages to pull off that hair flip like a pro as she plays off her confidence, "I simply had a change of heart."

"Worked out well for me." Snickers the bachelor who's ended up receiving the final rose. To think Corpse wanted to cancel on his friends and not show up for the stream, oh all the things he'd missed.

He's lucky he had a change of heart.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari  @renupf  @booklover76  @sra-verissimo  @beatrhizn  @blueberrystigma  @beatrhizn  @chicken-taco-burrito  @scorpio-echo  @nyctophiliiiiaaa  @squirreljoe   @azra-x  @ace-of-spaids2  @kxllanxtdoor

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Missing You

Aelin Week May 4th: When Rowan is away

CW: language, NSFW

AN: just so you know, I wrote this in half an hour sooo… not my best smut. But I had a goal to do every day for aelin week and I wanted to get this out. I don’t know if it actually counts since aelin week has been over for a little while but either way I’m still proud of getting it posted :)

Aelin Week Masterlist//2031 words

Aelin was lonely.

Rowan had left for his little work conference nearly forty-eight hours ago, and after a weekend to herself, Aelin missed him.

This was not to say Aelin couldn’t handle her boyfriend being gone for two days. She was an independent woman, and she’d spent the alone time working out, chatting with friends, reading several novels—all without thinking about Rowan too much.

But she still savored his company, and it was an adjustment to lose the man who’d become such a permanent fixture in her life. Aelin knew she wasn’t just conceited in saying that Rowan surely missed her by now, too.

It was getting later in the evening; Rowan was likely out of any meetings by now. He was probably in his hotel room, maybe washing up, maybe reading something. Maybe thinking about her.

Aelin could call him now, and she’d ask about his work trip, and he’d ask about her weekend… and it would be sweet and refreshing.

But Aelin was nothing if not a tease.

Aelin wandered over to her closet, lazily sifting through the overflowing space. After looking through all sorts of tiny, sexy items, she settled on a nightgown, rather than outright lingerie. Not that it was anywhere near proper—the golden material fell partway down her thighs and the neckline dipped between her breasts. Every curve was on display, every contour highlighted.

No, this “nightgown” was pretty damn revealing.

A smirk pulling at her lips in anticipation, Aelin adjusted the outfit one last time, then selected a pair of black stilettos. After that, Aelin added some smoky makeup around her eyes, a swath of sinful red lipstick, and a golden necklace with the letter R dangling from the chain. That would drive Rowan crazy.

Aelin stepped in front of the mirror and took herself in. Plenty of people called her smug, so to hear her say she felt like she looked good wasn’t necessarily saying much, but damn.

Aelin was, unbiasedly, unarguably, unequivocally hot. The fact that she knew it had nothing to do with the verity of the statement.

Lifting her phone, Aelin brought two fingers to her mouth and sucked. She snapped a photo, then reviewed it.

With her fingers in her mouth, lined with ever-so-slightly smudged red lipstick, eyes pouty and innocent, hair flowing down in waves, body on display and stilettos in the photo… Aelin looked like someone out of a high-class bordello.

Exactly what she was going for.

Gleeful, Aelin sent the picture to Rowan with a caption of do you think this will be ok for dinner tomorrow?, never missing a chance to antagonize the man.

She watched as immediately the three dots signaling Rowan’s typing appeared, then disappeared. Then showed up again… and disappeared again. Laughing maniacally, Aelin sauntered over to the bed, dropping down on her back and holding the phone over her head to watch the spectacle.

After a few more attempts at speech, Rowan seemed to give up, as Aelin’s phone started ringing.

She pressed the answer button and said, “Yes?” as sweetly as she could muster.

“You’re going to be punished for this tomorrow,” Rowan said, voice rough.

Aelin bit her lip, willing away a shiver as warmth spread down her body. “Oh, really? What will you do with me?”

“I’m going to tear that golden piece of hell to shreds, for starters.” Aelin grinned. “And then I’m going to make sure you realize what a bad, bad girl you’ve been.”

“Hmm,” Aelin murmured, “I think I already realize.”

“No, baby. I don’t think you do.” And this time, Aelin did shiver.

“Where are you right now?”

“Hm,” Aelin sighed with an exaggerated yawn. “On our bed, relaxing. It’s getting kind of hot in here; I might have to undress.”

“Don’t you dare,” Rowan murmured.

Aelin smirked. “Oh?” She shifted on the bed, swapping the phone to her other ear so she could lie down on her side.

“Don’t take off that little getup. Not yet.”

“If you insist,” Aelin replied, her voice honeyed compliance hiding an edge of disobedience. “What, specifically, do you plan on doing to me upon your return, love? I’d like to know what I’m in for.”

Rowan’s soft release of breath that could have been an affirmation or maybe a quiet laugh echoed through the phone. “I’d start with those tits I love so much. Play with them, tease you. Get you dripping.”

Aelin bit her lip. She imagined what Rowan’s hands on her breasts would feel like; it wouldn’t be his usual manner bent on pleasuring Aelin, but rather an attempt at working her up, leading her toward a pleasure she wasn’t guaranteed to find. Not when she was in trouble.

“What next?” Aelin asked, making her voice as naïve as she could muster. Holding her breath, Aelin set the phone on the pillow and pressed speaker. Then she relaxed on her back, shifting so that her legs were spread for easy access. One hand began caressing the silky skin of her thighs.

Before Rowan could say anything more, Aelin drew the other hand to her breasts. She played with a nipple through the nearly nonexistent material of the nightgown, twisting and pinching, closing her eyes at the bite of pain.

“Then I’d wrap my hands around your delicate throat. I’d squeeze gently, waiting until your breath hitched, then I’d stop playing nice.”

Trying not to let out a groan at the words, Aelin tugged her breasts free from the golden nightgown, both hands administering attention now. She kneaded them while her eyes remained firmly shut, Rowan’s voice emitting from the speaker a lifeline. Aelin’s whole body was begging for tomorrow to come.

“I’d choke you until you were clawing at my hands, gasping for air. Anything to rough you up.”

Aelin didn’t need Rowan’s commentary at this point; here was where he would lose any last pretenses of being the nice guy. Satisfied she was edged on enough, Rowan would flip Aelin over and spank her. He’d keep going long after she was begging him to stop, only when he felt satisified.

It took a lot to satisfy Rowan Whitethorn.

Aelin’s thoughts started floating away to tomorrow when Rowan would be home and making good on his promise. She almost didn’t hear what he said next.

“How wet are you right now?” Rowan’s gruff voice asked.

Biting down hard on her bottom lip, teeth grazing hard enough to draw blood, Aelin’s fingers trailed down her body and pushed against her pussy. She almost groaned at how wet she already found herself. She’d felt it, felt the warmth flowing downward as she dressed and imagined what Rowan’s reaction would be, felt it as her hands ghosted Rowan’s narration, but gods.

“Not very. I’m finding this to be a bit of a bore,” Aelin retorted, but she was sure the breathiness of her voice gave her away.

“Is that so? Well, I suppose I should just hang up then. Maybe I can find a pretty woman in Doranelle to play with.”

Aelin squeezed her eyes shut, lust roaring in her ears like a shout. She and Rowan weren’t exactly traditional when it came to their sex lives, and she’d watched him fuck women before. It never ceased to leave her dripping.

But she wasn’t with him right now, and the idea of Rowan walking away to find someone else while she lay here wishing for him was overwhelming. He may be messing with Aelin’s mind, but that didn’t mean he was joking.

“Don’t go,” Aelin demanded.

A soft chuckle emitted from the speaker and Aelin’s fingers brushed her clit as the noise reverberated down her spine.

“What would you rather me do, sweetheart?”

Trying to regain some sense of control—most certainly a lost cause, but she was nothing if not defiant—Aelin said, “It’s more what I can do for you. I’m sure you’ve been working so hard this weekend; I wanted to help you relax.”

“That’s awfully considerate of you,” Rowan replied, but Aelin heard the faint strain in his voice. She smiled viciously.

“Does it turn you on to know how I’m touching myself, Ro? One of my hands is playing with my breast. Rough, just how you like to.”

Rowan’s ragged breathing filled the speaker, mingling with Aelin’s own.

“Where’s your other hand, baby?” Rowan asked. His voice wasn’t shaky anymore; it was gruff, almost like a growl. Aelin was hit with a sudden jolt of longing for him to be here, so that he could treat her like the whore she knew she was.

Aelin hummed as that other, unmentioned hand slid over her folds. Too gently to bring her any pleasure but enough to leave Aelin bucking her hips. “It’s between my thighs. Right where I want you to touch me, but I know you never would, not when I’m being a bad girl.”

“You snarky little thing,” Rowan murmured, and from the distance in his voice, Aelin knew he was touching himself by now. “Take off your panties,” he ordered.

“I’m not wearing panties,” Aelin whispered.

“Fuck.”

Aelin didn’t even have it in herself to be smug about his reaction, or the way he gradually began cursing in a steady stream, surely attending to his own pleasure. Instead, she was spending all of her focus on not losing control as her fingers dipped into her sex.

“I’m so wet,” Aelin gasped out, her fingers sliding across her core and pressing against her clit. “All for you, daddy.”

Rowan groaned, and even through the poor quality of the phone’s speaker the effect was immediate. Aelin’s back arched and she bit her lip. Her fingers started drawing, quick, tight circles around her clit.

“You’re mine, baby girl,” Rowan murmured. “When I get home I’m going to show you just how much you belong to me.”

“Oh,” Aelin breathed, her hand still rubbing her clit, faster, harder, more desperately, searching for release. Her other hand, distracted as she was, had stopped toying with her breasts. She abandoned them fully and brought the other hand to her dripping pussy.

Aelin’s eyesight dimmed as her fingers slid inside, craving satisfaction too much to bother teasing. She gasped at the sudden fullness and bucked her hips, almost riding her own hand.

Rowan let out a low groan that sent chills down Aelin’s spine and she whimpered, wondering if he’d reached the pleasure she was still longing for.

“I need more, Rowan. I need you,” Aelin gasped into the phone.

“Alright, just let me hop in my teleportation machine and I’ll—”

“Fuck you,” Aelin snapped, pissed at his amusement. “Such fucking audacity.”

Rowan chuckled, and as much as she wanted to hate him for it, the sound send a wave of pleasure crashing over her. “Well, I would love to be there, but since that’s not possible, you’re going to have to do without.”

“Clearly,” she muttered.

Ignoring the venom in her voice, Rowan said, “You can do it, baby. I know you’re almost there.”

Aelin exhaled sharply. Her fingers had curled inside of her, coaxing herself forward. Rowan began murmuring his encouragement through the phone, and Aelin’s mind locked in on the words and the soft, dirty tone of his voice.

Finally, with one last bout of pressure to her clit, Aelin’s hearing faded to nothing as a wave of release crashed through her and swept her thoughts away. She was panting, her whole body tense. Aelin didn’t think she could get up if she tried.

“That’s it, Aelin,” Rowan mumbled.

Her head fell back, gaze glancing at the cell phone. “I love you,” she rasped.

“I love you, too,” Rowan replied. “And I love you in gold.”

A soft smile played across Aelin’s face at the words. “I’ll wear it again for you tomorrow, if you like.”

“Damn right you will.”

Aelin sighed as her head cleared from her orgasm. She shifted and drew a blanket over herself, ignoring the mess and the nightgown still draped over her skin. Then she reached for the phone and pulled it closer.

“Goodnight, Rowan,” Aelin whispered.

“Goodnight, baby.”

She fell asleep to the sound of Rowan’s voice.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@autumnbabylon

@charlizeed

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

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@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@morganofthewildfire

@mybloodrunsblue

@nehemikkele

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@rowaelinismyotp

@rowanaelinn

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@the-lonelybarricade

@thenerdandfandoms

@yesdreamblog

[rebeccccccaaa]

O̶l̶d̶ M̶a̶n̶ M̶o̶v̶e̶s̶

__________________________ Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve shows you a thing or two about being an old man. 

Warnings: *AGE GAP*, smut 18+ minors dni, very dark/inappropriate joke (only mentioned once but beware)

Author’s Notes: I know this isn’t the most original but hEr yA gO lol (ps this a long one but boy is it a good read #prettyproud ;) lmao) __________________________

“Hey Nat, do you know anything about World War II?” you peeked your head in her room.

“Nope, ask Steve.”

“Hey Tony, do you know anything about World War II?” you walked into the lab.

“Nope, ask Steve.”

“Hey Sam, where’s Bucky?” you walked in the kitchen.

“Mission.”

“Well, do you know anything about  World War II?”

“Nope, ask Steve,” you grunted and rolled your eyes.

“Hey Wanda, do you know anything about World War II?”

“Nope, have you asked Steve?” 

“Ugh! Everyone keeps saying that,” you flopped down on her bed.  

“And why aren't you asking him?” 

You looked at her raising an eyebrow. She was the only, well you think Nat knows but Wanda is the only person you told about your little crush on the super soldier. Upon seeing your face, Wanda chuckled humorously. One time she caught you during a meeting thinking about Steve; every part of Steve. To say you were embarrassed would be an understatement. 

“What about Bucky?”

“He’s on a mission. Hey, what are you watching?”

“Malcolm in the Middle.”

“Nice.”

You laughed at the show for a bit before grunting remembering that you had to finish the history report for your college professor who’s as old as sliced bread. Before you walked out Vision phased through the door. 

“Ooh! Vis, tell me everything about World War II!”

“No, Vis! Don’t tell her a single thing! You have to ask Steve,” she scolded. 

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Wanda,” you whined.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in his room,” she smirked.

“Please don’t make me do it,” you begged hyperbolically. 

“Then fail your report,” she smirked evilly.

“Dammit, Wanda,” you left her room hearing her snicker. 

You stomped to your room and collapsed on your bed. You sat at your computer for twenty minutes until a knock disturbed your dreadful staring. 

“Steve!” you shouted opening the door.

“Hey, Sam told me you needed help with a history report?”

“Sam told you?”

“Yeah; and Tony, and Nat, and Wanda,” Steve phoned chimed suddenly.

“Oh, uh, Buck just texted me saying Sam told him that you need help with uh, a history report,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, World War II,” you gritted.

“Well,” he stood awkwardly at your door still.

“Come in,” you moved over to let him in.

Steve walked in and sat on the edge of your bed. You scurried over and threw yourself on the bed gathering all your papers and books and your laptop. You sat criss crossed on the bed before looking up at him ready for learning, I guess.

“Ok so what exactly do you need to know?” Steve smiled.

“Oh well, uh, maybe we start with life before soldiers got drafted?” you suggested.

Steve smiled remembering tons of stories and memories of him and Bucky being teenagers in New York. You stopped caring about your report altogether and just kicked back to listen to all about Steve. The way he lit up whenever remembered something he forgot to tell you made your heart burst. 

At one point he started laughing so hard, as were you, when he slapped his hand directly on your thigh and squeezed hard from pure humor. Needless to say, you instantly stopped laughing and zeroed in on his large hand and the way it gripped your thigh. 

“Awe man, that such was a good day,” he breathed out once he cooled down.

“Yeah, it’s kinda weird,” you said, coming back to reality.

“Why’s that weird?”

“I don’t know? You’re the captain, you don’t have fun. You’re an old man,” you giggled.

“Old man? Kid, you’re hurting me,” he clutched his chest dramatically.

“Hey, I already told you to stop calling me kid. I’m twenty years old,” you crossed your arms. 

“Hey come on, I’m just joshing ya,” he smirked.

“Who the fuck says ‘joshing ya’?” you laughed.

“What, the kids don’t say that nowadays?” he laughed.

“No!” you were cracking up rolling on the bed.

“You’re supposed to be doing your history report,” he defended.

“You’re such an old man, oh god.”

“And you’re such a child,” he pinned you down on the bed.

“Ooh, someone busting out the old man moves. Get off grandpa,” you smirked.

“Make me, kid,” he emphasized ‘kid’.

You two glared at each amusingly, both trying you very best to not smile. Your shirt had ridden up your stomach and Steve could somewhat see the exposed skin. He didn't think you were a kid per say, he thought you were a very beautiful young woman; too young. He didn’t think it would be appropriate to pursue any sort of relationship with you; it’s not like you were very incognito when it came to checking him out. He knew that you liked him. 

Explains all the teasing you do too. 

The close proximity between you two make you both bothersome; Steve's muscle clenching and fighting every urge in his body to do something he might regret, or worse, something you’ll regret. Your stomach flipped and your mind wandered to what it would be like if you were in this position under different circumstances. 

In an attempt to relieve yourself without Steve knowing you clenched your thighs softly before moving your knee up. Upon moving your knee, your eyes widened and Steve instantly got off you covering his modesty with your sheet. Your face slowly turned into a mischievous smirk before raising your eyebrow at Steve, who profusely blushed under your taunting gaze. 

“Do kids turn you on?” you joked.

“Y/n!” Steve groaned at your highly inappropriate joke.

“I’m kidding!” Steve simply rolled his eyes at you.

“I’m just joshing ya,” you grinned, making Steve chuckle.

“How much of your report have you done?” Steve reached for your laptop; making you panic because you didn’t even have your name let alone a title typed out. 

“Seriously?” he looked at you like a stern father.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said.

“You don’t even have your name,” he cracked a smile.

“Well, your stories are just too captivating; I was distracted,” you weren’t exactly lying, seeing Steve seem so relaxed and carefree thinking back on memories made you smile. 

“Distracted,” he repeated sarcastically.

“Yeah, I was,” you felt small as Steve got closer to you.

“Is this distracting now?” he mocked.

“Maybe,” you whispered.

He looked at your lips before running his nose along your cheek and your own nose. He pressed his lips too close to your lips, of which you were desperate for him to touch. Your hands grabbed at his arms that were held tightly on your waist for any sort of stability. You felt like you were going to pass out. 

“You better finish that report if you know what’s good for you,” he whispered against your lips. 

“Huh?” you breathed out seeing as Steve has stood up and made his way to your door. 

“You heard me. Come find me when you’ve been a good girl and finished that report,” he slipped out smoothly leaving you high and dry, or rather soaking in arousal. 

Your eyes were practically bulging from your head and you couldn’t believe the Steve with that gnarly stick up his ass was the same one that just easily turned you on like an easy-bake oven and called you a ‘good girl’. You immediately rushed to grab your laptop googling facts about World War II and typed faster than Usain Bolt could run.

Meanwhile Steve stood in the shower with cock in hand, his thumb rubbing over the tip leaking with precum. He ran his hand down his shaft and threw his head back at the pleasure. He moaned your name and tensed his muscles getting close to a release. 

He had to hold on to the wall to keep his knees from buckling. The sight of seeing you under him, squirming and wiggling so innocently made his cock twitch. He knew that you liked him, it wasn’t necessarily a huge secret; you weren’t desperate to hide that fact. But he knew you weren’t going around telling people so he never said anything. 

He went to your room genuinely trying to help with your college report and he got enthralled with his own memories. He didn’t exactly know when the air shifted but he realized it indefinitely when your body tensed under his hand that rested perfectly on your thigh. 

He remembers the softness of skin and remembers the way your breathing quickened. He kept the conversation going as innocently as possible but then you started teasing him about his age, about what an old fashioned sucker he was. And all he could think about in that moment was flipping you over and fucking you into the mattress you showing his “old man moves”. 

“Fuck,” he moaned to himself.

Soon enough after a couple more pumps, he painted the shower walls with his cum desperately wishing it was your stomach or even your back. He just wanted you there with him. He felt guilty thinking about you like that. He knew if he were ever to get with you he wouldn't be able to keep up. You were so spright and mischievous and beautiful and gorgeous and sexy and… wait; slow down, Steve.

He got out of the shower and cleaned himself off. He changed and just stayed in his room letting the sounds of the TV drown any thoughts he might wandered to you. A sudden knock broke the silence settled in his room and he opened the door to find his best friend. 

“Hey, man,” Bucky smiled.

“Buck, your back,” Steve opened the door further letting him come in. 

“Oh, did you get my text? About helping Y/n with her report? Heard it’s like forty percent of her grade,” he said. 

“Yeah uh, I did,” Steve said hesitantly; Bucky narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Steve retorted.

“I don’t believe you. Come on what happened?” Buck chuckled.

“She called me an old man,” Steve pouted.

“Haha! Seriously?”

“Yeah but jokes on her cuz I-” Steve stopped himself, what if his best friend thought he was a creep.

“Oh no, did you guys fuck?” he asked suddenly.

“Buck,” Steve groaned.

“You did, didn’t you!”

“Almost!” Steve bursted out, his eyes widening in fear.

“Hey, why are you all freaked out? I thought you liked her?” Bucky questioned.

“Yeah, but what? She’s too young. I thought you were gonna think I was a creep,” Steve was confused.

“Well, how old is she?”

“She’s uh, she’s twenty, almost twenty-one,” he muttered.

“Oh, yikes. Uh, I don’t know man. I mean you’re both adults,” Bucky said. 

“Fuck, man. I really fucked up,” Steve said making Bucky ‘language’ him of which Steve glared back.

“Did you kiss her?”

“No, almost,” Steve responded.

“Ok then what happened?”

Steve explained to Bucky what happened just hours ago and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at his poor friend's antics.

“You’re such a fucking tease, Steve,” Bucky joked.

“Buck, you’re not helping,” Steve grunted.

“Well, either you keep your promise and fuck her good, or be that old man she called you with a stick up your ass and make her feel like shit. No pressure though. See for dinner, I’m going to beat the shit out of Sam,” Bucky stood up.

“What’d he do?”

“Nothing,” with that Bucky left. 

Steve sat there on his bed conflicted. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. All he knows is that you’re a beautiful girl and Steve wants nothing more than to show you; he knows you'd be more than willing to let him have his way with you. But on the contrary, you are too young. There are tons of guys who would be so lucky to call you theirs; and they’re your age. 

Then again, Steve can’t even imagine another man putting his hands on you. They’d never be able to pleasure you like he could. Ugh, but you called him an old man! Fuck this, Steve thought, I’m taking a nap.

-

You sat in your room busying yourself with facts about the war. You cried about the horrid things that happened, terrified that people that live in the world. You were even more shocked that Bucky and Steve lived through that. 

You glanced at the clock noticing the many hours that had passed you. It was sundown which usually meant Wanda was going to come by any minute-

“What do you want for dinner?” There she is. 

“Uh, I’m not sure. Haven't had much time to think about it,” you said lifting your laptop.

“Did Steve come?”

“I don’t know but he came pretty close,” you said snarkily. When he left about 5 minutes after you had to change your panties because you couldn’t focus on the report with arousal dripping out of you. 

“What the hell does that mean?” Wanda sat on your bed. You told what happened when Steve came by, how innocent everything seemed until it wasn’t. Wanda was rolling on your bed in laughter, snorting at your frustration. 

“Wandaaa,” you whined. 

“Sorry, sorry. But I’m confused,” she cooled down.

“What’s there to be confused about; Steve Rogers is a fucking tease,” you grunted. 

“I thought this is what you want. He clearly seems to like you back,” she said. 

“I don’t know it’s just-”

“Just what?”

“It’s not exactly clear whether he likes me or just wants some young, fresh meat. He didn’t say he liked me back.”

“Did you say you liked him in the first place?”

“No.” Wanda sighed at your answer. Were you overreacting?

“Y/n, I’ve known Steve for a long time and he’s not that kinda guy.”

“People change.”

“Y/n-”

“I just wish it stayed like a little stupid crush, because then I wouldn’t have to worry about my heart getting broken like that; worrying whether it’s real or not. Pining hurts so good, it’s comfortable.”

“Well, on a lighter note, how’s the report?” Wanda changed the subject so you wouldn’t feel bad anymore.

“I’m almost done, I think I’m gonna skip out on dinner. I’m really close to finishing,” you told her.

“Want me to bring you a plate?” she asked.

“Yes, please.”

-

Everyone sat at the table eating silently. Sam held an ice pack to his face because Bucky accidentally threw a rock at him; seriously it was an accident. Bucky threw the rock at his groin but Sam tripped back and the rock landed on his face. There are no hard feelings though, Sam said he was gonna get him and now Bucky’s arm is disabled and limp.

Steve stared at the seat across from him, it was the seat you always took next to Wanda. You weren’t here for dinner and he was wondering if it had something to do with him. Did he make you uncomfortable enough that you never want to see him? 

“She’s finishing her report,” Wanda said, her voice echoing in Steve’s head.

“Ooh what’s the gossip?” Nat said humorously seeing as Wanda’s eyes glowed red as did Steve’s. 

“Nothing,” Steve mumbled. 

“He was wondering where Y/n was?” Wanda said making Steve shoot daggers at her. 

“You miss your little girlfriend?” Sam joked.

“Shut it,” Steve growled.

“She never misses dinner. Where the brat?” Tony asked.

“She has a history report for a college class and she told me she was almost done and that she was gonna skip dinner,” Wanda explained.

No more questions were asked and everyone ate in peace. Small talk and laughter was exchanged appropriately but Steve couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you lied to Wanda to get out of dinner. What if you hate him now? What if you were creeped out by him now? Fuck.

“Steve your plate?” Wanda asked him. 

“Oh sorry, I’m finished. Thank you,” he handed her the plate of picked food. 

“Y/n, asked me if I could bring her a plate when we were finished.”

Steve simply looked puzzled at her. 

“Take this. And don’t break her heart,” she said handing him your plate. 

“I would never,” he said.

“Don’t tell me, tell her.”

Steve walked hesitantly up to your room. He knocked careful not to disturb you. He heard you shout, giving him access to your room and he found you laying on your stomach typing away on your laptop while cartoons played lowly on the TV.

“I brought your dinner,” he said softly.

“Thank you! Ugh, I’m starving but I swear I have like two sentences.”

He smiled and placed your food on your bedside before sitting on the bed with you. He watched your face carefully memorizing the smallest things about you that he’s never really noticed before. He noticed the dryness of your lips because you bit them whenever you were immensely focused just as now. 

He admired the small creases between your eyebrows and the way you scrunched your nose. Your hair was a little crazy and he noticed you had changed since he’d last been with you. He thinks he knows why that is and if it was true, he felt a sense of pride almost. Imagine if he really got to touch the way he wants. How ruined you would be. 

“Steve?” you asked.

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

“Are you ok?” you smiled awkwardly. 

“Oh uh, yeah. I’m ok.”

You ate quietly, eyes trained on the TV and Steve felt out of place. He went to stand up but you placed your food down and called after him.

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“I didn’t think you wanted me here anymore,” he said softly. 

“But, but you said to come find you when I finish my report. You’re already here,” you said shyly.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think-”

“I was a good girl and finished,” you said innocently biting your lip.

“Y/n,” Steve sighed. 

“What?” Oh no, you guessed it. He doesn’t actually like you and he's just messing with you.

“Hey look at me,” Steve grabbed your chin softly. You didn’t want to but you ultimately did.

“I want nothing more than to reward you for being a good girl but I can’t,” he said sadly.

“It's because I’m too young, isn’t it,” you whined. 

“I can’t do that to you. You have your whole life ahead of you, sweetheart. An old man like me shouldn’t keep you back like this,” he said.

“You’re not keeping anywhere, I’m an Avenger just like you. I don’t have anybody else. I’m only going to college because Tony’s paying for it and I took this stupid histroy class because I wanted to know more about what life was like for you. Because I like you,” you said. 

“Y/n, you can have anyone and you’re choosing me?” he chuckled.

“Yes, guys my age don’t even know where the clit is!” you shouted exasperated.

“Show them,” he said stupidly.

“Ah, yes. Because a twenty-two year old college frat boy is gonna wanna listen to you tell him how to have sex,” you said squinting your eyes, making Steve chuckle.

“I don’t want a guy my age, I want you.”

Steve cupped your face softly and you leaned into his hand with a childish pout. Steve smiled at you and your pout turned into a smile too. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, babygirl,” he sighed, pushing you down to lay on the bed.

“Not if you die from a stroke first old man,” you cracked. 

Steve wrapped his large hand around your neck bringing his face dangerously close yours.

“Smart mouth, and to think I was about to reward you.”

His voice gave you chills and you audibly whimpered under him. Steve pressed his leg between your thighs and your body shudder feeling his muscular thigh firmly pressed against your core.

“Fuck,” your voice shook.

“Does that feel good?” he asked mockingly, he knows what he’s doing.

“Yes, Stevie,” you whimpered.

“Fuck, you sound sweet whimpering and shaking under me. Almost feel kinda bad.”

His hand squeezed a bit harder and your body melted into the bed. He leaned down and kissed for the first time. Your eyes opened wide before fluttering closed again wallowing in his kiss. Your hand moved from his forearm to his face cupping it gently and your lips moved against his impeccably. 

His lips faltered and trailed down your throat, his hand pulling your hair gently to move your head back to give him more room. He nipped and bit at your throat hungrily before soothing his marks with his tongue. His hands sneaked up your shirt, his fingertips grazing the skin under your breasts. He could feel the chills that rose all over your skin and he chuckled darkly in your ear. 

“Is this ok?” he asked softly tugging the waistband of your shorts. 

“Yes, please,” you moaned. 

Steve pulled them down little by little pressing kisses to every new part of exposed skin. He littered your hip bones and thighs with light bruises and bites. You were practically dripping in arousal, toes curling under themselves anticipating Steve’s next move.

He stood up at the edge of the bed keeping his eyes trained on yours, slowly unbuckling his belt. He pulled his pants down showing off his very impressive length. He gripped with his hand pumping it softly. He grabbed your ankle with his other hand and pulled you close to the edge of the bed.

“Lay on your stomach, babygirl,” Steve directed.

You eagerly flipped over, pushing your ass up to the air. Steve smiled at your ambition and gently rubbed your cheeks you put up for him. He pumped his cock a few times before lining himself up with you. 

“Fuck, you gonna be my good girl?” he asked seductively.

“Yeah, fuck. Stevie, fuck me good,” you moaned. 

“Open up those pretty legs for me, will ya?” Steve smirked. You spread your legs wider and arched your back more. When Steve finally pushed past your entrance, you felt so full. 

“You gotta breathe baby,” Steve soothed. 

“Sorry, you’re just… so big,” you whimpered.

“I know baby but you're taking my cock so well, you're being such a good fucking girl.”

“Steve!” you squeaked. 

Steve snapped his hips in and out of you rapidly and you couldn’t help the high-pitched moans that escaped your mouth. Steve gripped your hips harshly, forming littles red and purple marks on your hip bones that you’ll have to admire tomorrow morning. 

You gasped and moaned at the feeling of Steve’s cock driving into you and you couldn’t hold back any longer. 

“Stevie, I’m gonna come! Fuck, I can’t hold it. Please daddy let me come!”

“Come on pretty baby, come for daddy. Make a mess all over my cock like a good girl,” he groaned above you.

Your body trembled and your arms fell forward as you nearly screamed Steve’s name in pure ecstasy. You breathed heavily but Steve wasn’t done with you yet. He pulled his still ever hard dick out of you momentarily to rid his shirt. He walked to the side of the bed and sat comfortably with his back against the headboard. 

“Come here baby girl. I know you’re tired but I think you pull one more for me, yeah?” his voice was silky. 

You whimpered and tried your best to sit up all the way, crawling desperately over to Steve. He kissed you softly before slowly pulling the hem of your shirt over your head to expose your breasts fully to him. 

“Fuck, you are just too beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear, his voice raspy making your body shudder above him. 

His hands roamed your body; smoothing over your ribs, your hips to your thighs, back to hips against pulling you impossibly closer to him. His lips again just as before nipped and pecked the skin along your neck and collarbones and you could resist the small whimpers you made. 

“Steve,” you moaned.

“I got ya, baby. I’m right here.”

You looked into his lust blown eyes before kissing him messily. Your age divulges your experience but Steve couldn't care less. You lifted your hips for him and he lined himself once again to your entrance. 

Your arousal made it easier this time around and you were able to fully bask in the feeling and pleasure from Steve’s length. You hastily moved your hips around, back and forth, the position completely new to you. You felt erotic and confident and Steve’s kisses and praises did nothing but egg you on. 

“You're doing so good, my love. God, you keep clenching me like that and I’m gonna blow,” he moaned.

“Please, Stevie. I want to make you feel good,” you encouraged.

“You already are, don’t even worry about that,” he smirked.

Your hands gripped at his shoulders hard, nails digging into his pale skin. Your clit rubbed against his pelvis and soon enough you felt another orgasm approaching quickly. As you grew tired, Steve’s hands went to your cheeks and aided you in moving back and forth.

Your arms gave out again and you fell against Steve's torso still thrusting your hips back and forth with his help. The pressure built rapidly in your lower stomach and you couldn’t hold it again. 

“Steve,” you moaned. 

“I know, just hold on, please. I wanna come with you; I’m almost there,” he gasped. 

You held back as long as you but soon enough your body shook against Steve, desperate to release everything you have in you. In an attempt to distract yourself momentarily, you treated Steve the same by nipping and kissing the skin of his neck and shoulder. Your hands combing into his hair, tugging on his short blonde hair. 

“Ok, go ahead babygirl,” he grunted, “Fuck!”

“Ugh, Steve!” you couldn’t help but sink your teeth into his shoulder. Ecstasy waved over you and you feel euphoric. Your body trembled from intensity and Steve whispered soft praises in your ear. His words soothed you and your eyes felt heavy. Steve tracing little patterns on the small of your back did not help your tired case. 

“I gotta clean you up, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, you could hear the smile in his voice.

“No, stay with me, please,” you whined. 

“I promise I’ll be back,” he chuckled.

“Hm,” you huffed.

You slowly rolled off of Steve and he practically ran to your bathroom emerging with a warm wet towel in hand. You laid limply on the bed, your breathing slowly returning to normal. Steve kissed your stomach and hips softly as he cleaned between your thighs gently. He went back to the bathroom and cleaned himself up as well.

“Come back,” you whined, making him chuckle.

“Yay,” you cheered softly when he did.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?” 

“Mh-hm,” you nodded tiredly.

“I freaking love you,” you said, hiking your leg over to lay on top of him again. You nuzzled your nose in the crook of his neck.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” There was a slight moment of pause.

“Do you love me?” your voice crack and tears brimmed your eyes.

“I shouldn’t…” he started. His heart nearly broke when you looked up at him with teary eyes; afraid he would say he didn’t and you fell in love just to get your heart broken.

“But I do,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you sniffled, making Steve smile.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he kissed the top of your head. 

“I love you too, old man.”

-

The next morning, Steve slipped out of bed while you were still asleep, you looked so beautiful and peaceful. It took everything in him not to just crawl back into bed with you but Steve had a couple things to do and it was already past eight. He promised to himself that he was gonna come back before you wake up.

So he softly closed the door before immediately running around the compound filing paperwork, directing agents and trainees, meeting with Nick Fury, and lastly making breakfast for you and him. Wanda, Bucky, and Sam all sat at the counter eating bowls of cereal watching Steve frantically run around the kitchen making breakfast. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Bucky spoke up. 

“I’m making breakfast,” Steve momentarily stopped to say. 

“Ok, but why are you freaking out like that? You’re running around like a crazy person.”

“I have to make it before-” Steve stopped himself. He didn't know whether or not he should say anything, whether you were comfortable with others knowing yet. 

“What did you do?” Wanda said, smiling like an idiot.

“Nothing, I’m just really hungry and I need to make breakfast before I starve,” he said.

“Really?”  Bucky said.

“Yeah.”

“Where’s Y/n?”

“She’s aslee-” Steve stopped himself again.

The three at the counter bursted into a fit of laughter at Steve’s slip up and he just simply rolled his eyes before finally plating the food and running upstairs. Not without flipping the three still laughing off. 

He slowly opened the door finding you still asleep in bed. He smiled at your beautiful form illuminated by the golden rays of the sun peeking through the curtains. He placed the food on your table before sitting on the bed, his hands softly running up and down your side to slowly wake you. 

Your eyes fluttered open and upon seeing Steve’s gorgeous face you smiled. 

“Good morning, old man,” you grinned cheekily. 

“When are you let that go?” he shook his head.

“Never,” you winked.

“I brought you food, pretty girl.”

“Thank you,” you sat up covering yourself. You ate the food he made for you and made grabby hands for him to cuddle you. He laughed before crawling back into bed with you. You made a face though before he got fully under the covers and he gave a puzzled look.

“What?”

“Why are you all dressed?”

“I had a couple things to do this morning and then I made you breakfast. I couldn’t walk around in my birthday suit,” he laughed.

“Hm, fine. I’ll give you a pass,” you said making him chuckle, “Can you at least take your shirt off again?”

He smiled cheekily before getting up and taking his shirt and pants off leaving him in his boxers. You cheered making him laugh even harder before he dived into bed cuddling you extra close. His strong arms wrapping safely around you and his legs entangling themselves with yours. 

You kissed him one last time before grabbing your TV remote and turning on the TV to watch cartoons.

“You know sometimes you really are a kid,” Steve snickered.

“Yeah grandpa? What about this,” you fluffed his beard that specks of grey hairs.

“Do I need to show my old man moves again?” he smirked.

“Yeah, I think you oughta,” you winked before Steve threw the covers kissing your stomach all the way to your core. You gotta admit, the old man’s got some moves. 

==================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l 

[harrieatthemet]

Mustache

He has never been keen on sharing. 

And Gemma’s mere existence, as well as the small indent on her left thumb she swears is a scar (though Harry vehemently denies it is), is living proof. 

Mr Ducky was his favorite bath time companion for a good bulk of his childhood. There were even times he’d carry it around with him in the house tied to a string like a pet, one of Anne’s fondest memories and favorite stories to tell whenever she found the opportunity. 

Maybe it was Gemma’s own fault; she was only six at the time and was foolishly under the impression that the stupid rubber toy was at anyone’s disposal, which is what led her to try and situate the duck in her backpack as she geared up for school. 

It’s also what led her to tears because Harry caught her on the way out the front door, Mr Ducky in tow, and he instinctively sunk his teeth right into the side of her hand in protest. And, okay fine, he may have bit down a little harder than he should have, but the overall message he was sending came across very clear. Gemma never touched anything he owned again for a very, very, long time; and eventually went on to tell everyone in her class she had a vampire as a brother. 

“What do we think of this little number,” your hip jut, innocent as it was, just now became a permanent memory in Harry’s brain, “too much, like.. revealing?”

You like nice in red; devilish, even, and in the best way possible. There’s nothing revealing about the dress at all. Somehow, though, he finds himself perched squeamishly at the foot of your bed in complete fucking anguish. In theory, no, the dress is not too much. It’s the perfect ensemble and flatters you so well he feels like whoever made the dress conjured it up with you specifically in mind. 

And no, it’s not too much, for literally anyone else except him. How is such a modest dress enough for him to think you up the way he is right now; bent over in front of him with your hair wrapped tightly up in his palm while that dress lays in a sloppy ball by his feet. 

“Would be nice with nude shoes,” he mules, “like, those sandals y’ave, yeah?” 

The way your eyes light up, that same way they always do when your mind starts to move at light’s speed as you start assembling a million different ideas into one, is enough to tug a grin onto his mouth. 

He didn’t really want to agree to this. When you texted first to ask he ignored it, that way you’d have just carried on without him and he could blame a busy schedule or an overrun nap on his delayed response time. It’s much easier to blame a missed text for no response. Of course it’s not in your nature to send a text, and he knew that already. So it came a son surprise when he was bombarded by 4 phone calls. By the fifth one he had picked up, succumbing to you and just the flat out unfulfilled urge he had to hear your voice at the other end of the phone.

“Seriously Harry,” your voice is like fucking honey, sweet and sullen like it always is, and he’s in euphoria listening to it as you poke your earring through the lobe of your left ear, “it’s just, y’know I don’t- I’m nervous and I appreciate you helping me do something as stupid as picking a dress.” 

“S’not stupid,” he reassures, “y’know I just like spending time with yeh, since y’so busy ’n stuff.”

Which is true. That’s the only thing that got him over here; and he rescheduled a zoom call just to sit in your bedroom for all of twenty minutes. Not one part of him regretted it, either.

“I’m busy?” You tease, “coming from the A lister who’s in London, than LA, than New York, London again, oh, than LA again oh, then ‘sorry love, m’in Tokyo.’”

Also true, he knows that, which is why he’s snickering at fault in response to your harmless teasing. He wouldn’t say it now, mainly because he doesn’t want to make it weird, but regardless of where he falls on the map he somehow still finds a way to fit you in. He’s never minded doing it, either. 

Twenty minutes isn’t enough. Maybe another twenty more could be a sufficient amount. That’s almost an hour, right? Forty minutes is almost a full hour with you and he’d love to get even that much. Or twenty more hours, even, would be that much better. It’s better for him to think of getting more time with you than to let his thoughts wander and remind him of where you’re getting ready to go off to. 

A date. It’s why he was so hesitant to come here. It’s hard enough as it is being a prisoner to his own thoughts, being around you and not getting to interact with you the way he actually wants; kiss you the way he wants, touch you the way he wants, hold you and talk to you the way he wants. Adding a new element to the mix, another man getting access to you the way he wants, well that’s just mental warfare. 

You don’t know anything about though. And thank God, because if you could get a peak into his thoughts and see just a preview of what he thinks he almost knows for sure you’d ice him out in a heartbeat. He’s got a soft spot for you, nonetheless, which is why he swallowed the massive-sized lump in his throat when you told him you needed help on an outfit for a date and b lined it over to your place.

“Who’s this guy, anyways.” He chimes, following you similar to that of a lost puppy as you start heading towards the staircase, “Like, wha’s he look like ’n stuff.”

Immediately after he asks he wishes he hadn’t. The way that pesky fucking lump reappears when you wiggle your eyebrows in response, stuffing your hand into your leather purse in an attempt to fish out your phone. A simple response like ‘handsome’ or ‘he’s a nice guy’ would’ve sufficed for him. Seriously, that’s all he needed. What he didn’t need was an entire fucking slideshow of an above average looking guy. And he had a cool mustache, to boot, which really pissed Harry off for some reason. 

“Should probably shave,” he squints his eyes at the photo you’ve got propped right in front of his face, trying his hardest to act like he isn’t so fucking jealous of that mustache, “kinda looks like a squirrel on his top lip."

“If I didn’t know you so well,” you tut teasingly, “I’d think you’re a dick.”

“You know me so well and still don’t think that?” 

He likes the way your laugh sounds, and it makes him happy that he said something amusing enough to drag it out of you. And the toothy smile you pair with it practically knocks the wind right out of him. Everything you do seems to wow him, corny as it sounds. It makes him feel so at ease, and the butterflies he gets each time gets him reminiscing to the days where he was just a kid and had the worlds biggest crush on the girl who sat three rows ahead of him in grade school. He’s giddy and he doesn’t want you to leave for this date. 

For a second he thinks about doing something elaborate; breaking his foot or faking an illness so that you literally have no choice but to hang back and look after him. That’s selfish though, and honestly just crazy and super fucked up, so he opts out of that. But he doesn’t want you to go so bad he seriously considers it, especially as you start sorting through the downstairs closet to find a coat that doesn’t clash with your shoes. 

He could just be honest. He could just tell you that he doesn’t want you to go, solely because he’s absolutely infatuated with you and for every hour he’s awake and functioning you manage to consume every thought he has. He could just be an adult and tell you he’s got feelings for you that very much surpass a platonic, friendly demeanor. That might be a better way into persuading you to stay back with him than breaking his fucking foot. 

“Ok now wait a minute,” he chokes, and there’s a painful twang that strikes his gut when you frown, “gotta tell y’somethin’.” 

“What,” you groan, and he swears he would rather die right now than do anything else, “it’s the shoes, right? They make my calves look like I’m a running back don’t they?” 

He wants to laugh but he thinks if he opens his mouth he would projectile vomit everywhere. But the thought occurs to him that if he does that than it would be an excellent excuse for you to skip the date. Though, of course, he runs the risk of grossing you out and absolutely humiliating himself all in one go of it. 

So he shakes his head no. In fact he loves the shoes, and they make your ankles look slender and really compliment your legs quite nicely. Still, he’s scrambling to string together a coherent sentence because his brain is working a lot faster than the muscles in his mouth are and it feels like someone just super glued his lips shut.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” you tease, and the cheeky wink you shoot him over your shoulder just edges him even more if that’s possible at this point, “Styles.”

“I don’t want y’to go on this date, (Y/N).” 

He’s well aware that he blurted that out in a way that he really, really, wish he hadn’t. Now the air in the room is stale and heavy, dense too, like someone just sucked all the air out and left the two of you here with nothing to inhale but words and unspecified tension. 

And he’s starting to get more anxious as your playful manner dissipates. He can tell your puzzled not just be the demeanor of your face, but by the stance of your body because your letting shoulders hang the way you do when you’re a little uncomfortable. 

“Oh,” you breath, and his chest starts sinking inward, “okay, I just- well why not? Do I not.. like, do I look bad or something?”

“No,” he coos, and he feels like the worlds biggest asshole when you start to frown, “No y’don’t- Christ, (Y/N) y’look amazing. Y’always look so fuckin’ amazing. It’s just-”

“What,” you huff, “than what is it, than? Why wouldn’t you want me to go?”

He’s really done it now. The proper thing to do would’ve just been to let you go, walk out with you and watch you drive off before he headed home himself. The proper thing to do would’ve been for him to just go home and think about you on a date with someone other than himself, curled up in a ball watching a Friends episode he’s already seen four times while he felt sorry for himself. But that’s not what happened, and what he should’ve done was just broke the fucking foot like he initially thought to do. That would’ve been less agonizing than this. 

“Because,” he’s frustrated now, not with you but really just himself, “I should be taking y’out. M’absolutely in love with yeh, (Y/N), and I don’t have a cool mustache but I could take y’out on a date, ’n I want to so bad.” 

There’s still that dense energy looming in the room, and his gut now too as he feels it winding up tightly in an anxious bundle of knots and twists. You’re not saying anything and the only thing he notices is that you’re breathing is vaguely staggered and your clutching onto that purse in your hand like he’s about to snatch it and run off. God, he should’ve just broken the foot!

“Please don’t go out wit him,” and now, his voice is small, “think it might kill me.”

[snackhobi]

pairing: yoongi x reader // word count: 15.8k // genre: smut

summary: your idea of a good night certainly doesn't involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there's an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), cursing, minor consumption of alcohol, oral (m and f receiving), protected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, pet names, slight exhibitionism, slight praise kink, light dom/sub undertones if you squint ig (reader is kind of subby)

– –

Throughout the years of your life, you've learned a few things. Some of them are pretty obvious (buying suspiciously cheap sushi from a petrol station is like playing Russian Roulette with food poisoning and diarrhoea), some of them are less so (just because something is 'on sale' doesn't actually mean that it's cheaper if they'd increased the overall price beforehand), but one thing that you're only just starting to learn is that— for all that Jimin says otherwise— blind dates will always stand you up.

jiminnie is he there yet??

you to my entire lack of surprise, no. i'm starting to wonder if this 'hoseok-hyung' of yours even exists tbh i should have been suspicious from the second you called him a 'friend' bc that implies that you HAVE friends

jiminnie ok RUDE. we're friends??

you suddenly i can't read

The two of you had been outrageously drunk after a night out on the town, once, and Jungkook had come to collect his tipsy boyfriend, and you'd seen the fond way he'd watched Jimin despite his messy behaviour— how he'd given Jimin a piggyback even though it must have been hard with the way Jimin had been squirming and laughing and kicking his legs back and forth— and your heart had squeezed tight in your chest. (You'd been so drunk.)

It had honestly been a slip of the tongue when you'd revealed to Jimin that you were kind of maybe feeling somewhat lonely, a little bit, potentially. You'd had one night stands and short flings but it's been a long time since you've been in an actual relationship, a long time since you've really clicked with someone. Maybe part of you had been missing it, that connection with another person. Normally you're fine with being single, but Jungkook and Jimin are so in love that it spills out from them and you guess in the moment you'd wanted to feel that, too.

You blame the alcohol. You also blame your own loose lips. And Jimin, you blame him too, for persuading you to go clubbing in the first place. You don't even remember what you'd said, waking up with a headache the weight and size of a tectonic plate, groaning at the pain of the morning light stabbing into your eyes, but with no recollection of your admittance that maybe you were tired of being single. Your best friend, however— despite having drunk more than you— could recall the previous night with crystalline clarity, much to your horror and embarrassment. And, because Jimin is Jimin, he'd latched onto what you'd said with the tenacity of a dog with a bone.

Fast forward to where you're sitting now, on yet another arranged date that he's planned for you— and once again, you've been stood up.

you i'm starting to wonder if any of the people you've tried to set me up with are even real

jiminnie omg they ARE you had a nice time with lisa??

Okay, so you hadn't been stood up for every date. Lisa had been the only person who'd shown up, and she was cute and friendly and you got on like a house on fire, but you'd very quickly found out that she was actually head over heels for her best friend Jennie. You being you, your first date had rapidly turned into you giving your new friend a pep-talk and hyping her up— and suffice to say you've been having weekly girl's brunches with Lisa and her now-girlfriend Jennie ever since. So, yes, technically you haven't been stood up every time, but still.

you yes, my ideal first date involves telling the other person that their best friend is definitely in love with them too :))

jiminnie I'VE ALREADY SAID THAT I'M SORRY :(

you LMAO it's fine, it's always nice to make friends but seriously minnie, like,, if your friends are going to stand me up, could you at least have had the decency to organise the date somewhere less fancy? i spent ages getting ready and noah fence it kind of feels like i just wasted a bunch of my time,,

Jimin doesn't fuck around. From the outside the bar, Dionysus, exudes a quiet aura of exclusivity. Inside, however, it has a surprisingly understated atmosphere despite its namesake being the Grecian god of Getting Turnt, the sleek interior paired with soft lighting and stylish fixtures, elegant. 

Either way, it's the kind of place that warrants you actually pulling out the stops with your outfit and makeup; you rarely have a reason to doll yourself up like this and it makes a nice change of pace, but it seems like you shouldn't have bothered. What's the point in putting on a cute dress and nice heels, or doing your hair and opening your expensive Too Faced eyeshadow palette for the first time, if you're just going to be sitting alone at a bar all night? At least you don't stick out, which is good, you guess.

You are the only person who's alone, though. It's midweek and everyone else is seated around one of the tables, couples and groups that are engaged in quiet discussion or watching the show— there's a small stage where there's a quartet performing live music— but you're perched on one of the barstools, tapping away at your phone, alone. If anyone were to pay any attention it would be obvious that you've been stood up, but they're all too busy having an enjoyable evening to spare a glance at the girl sitting by herself at the bar.

The only person who's paying attention to you is the bartender. He's clearly good at his job, keeping an eye on you and making you feel welcome without seeming like he's hovering; he doesn't act like you're being an inconvenience, but you give him a hefty tip each time you order a new drink anyway. Hoseok might not be turning up tonight but if you've gone to the effort of dressing this nicely and getting a taxi here then goddamn you're going to make the most of it.

It takes forty two minutes and three virgin cocktails before the handsome bartender speaks to you, saying something beyond the customary back and forth you've had so far as he hands you your next mocktail. 

"Are your friends usually this late?"

You let out a little huff of laughter. "Something like that." Normally you'd be more hesitant to speak to a stranger like this, but the bartender's eyes are warm and his smile seems genuine and from what you can tell, he's just making that sure you're okay. "Seems like it'll just be me for tonight."

"You're welcome to stay and wait as long as you like," he says, and you can't help but quirk a grin at him.

"I bet you say that to all the paying customers."

He laughs and raises his hands in surrender. "You got me." And then: "If you want another drink, just give me a shout. I'm Seokjin, but everyone calls me Jin."

"As in, Jin and tonic?" You smile. "Sure. I'll be sure to remember that. I'm Y/n."

"Nice to meet you, Y/n." Jin gives you a grin before disappearing down the other side of the bar to make drinks for some other customers. Your own smile slowly fades, and then turns into a frown, eyes landing on the clock on the wall; Hoseok is forty five minutes late at this point. (You know he's not going to show.) It's been so long that the musicians on the stage have finished their set and are leaving, a different performer about to step on, and you sigh. You'll finish this last drink and then you'll go.

You use your straw to stir the mint leaves and ice cubes around, muddling the flavours in your glass. You haven't really been paying attention to the music before now; you couldn't name the songs that have been performed so far, but they're common enough that you'd recognised the sound of them, the sort of music that most people could hum along to but probably wouldn't know the origin of. Easy listening. Pleasant, but nothing new. It's clearly more about setting a nice backdrop to the bar rather than music for music's sake. A background noise, rather than acting as the focal point of the bar.

You assume this is going to be the case for the next musician, and so you barely pay any mind as the he takes to the stage alone; you're looking down at your glass as he sits at the piano and puts his feet on the pedals and places his hands on the keys, but then, he starts to play.

Your eyes snap up. A chord hangs in the air, extended, haunting; a crescendo into a light melody; the chords dip, waters dark and deep while he weaves the higher notes with infinite softness, ebbing notes that fade into each other, his fingers dancing across the keys with grace and ease. You notice with a throb in your chest that he has no sheet music. He's pulling this music from inside him, his mind, entirely from his own memory.

His eyes are cast down as he watches his hands, but you can see how they slip shut whenever he tilts his head back, fringe hanging over them. His hair is bleached blond but he clearly hasn't been maintaining the look, with dark roots starting to show through. His posture is horrible, his spine a little curved as he slouches forward, and he's not dressed as sharply as the other musicians had been— there's no tie around his neck and he has a multitude of earrings in, rings on his fingers, changing his outfit into something a little messy and different and entirely unique.

He's fucking breathtaking.

Without realising, you've swivelled away from the bar to watch him. Your drink is still clutched in your hand but you pay it no mind, condensation gathering on the cold glass and dripping down your fingers the longer you sit there, ice cubes melting as he finishes his first song and moves onto the next. Same as the first, you don't recognise it, the melody echoing deep in your chest, speaking of some feeling that you can't put a name to, each sliding arpeggio and chord reaching inside you and hanging there, little glowing droplets that shine out like moonlight.

Each of his pieces are entirely different and yet they all feel like him, somehow. Strong and soft and lovely and aching. The water from your glass has pitter-pattered onto your lap, darkening the fabric of your dress in some nameless constellation, but you don't notice. Your world has narrowed down to: the sound of his music, the motions of his hands, the way he bends into the notes, him. 

Your eyes trace his profile, the cat-like eyes, the round of his nose, the pout of his lips, falling into the way he lifts his chin and tilts his head; thoughtless, gorgeous.

You don't realise that it's over until it's over. The final notes hang in the air, crystallising, and then they fade. He finishes with little fanfare, tilting a polite nod at the audience that claps for him, and then he slips off the stage and is gone just as quickly as he had come. You blink, coming back to yourself; you feel like you're rising out of deep water, motions slow and heavy, and you don't know how long you've been sitting there, entirely entranced. You'd been too distracted to clap. You'd just sat and watched in silence as he'd turned to leave, barely sparing the room a glance.

"Good, isn't he?"

Normally you would have startled at Jin's sudden appearance. Instead you just blink again, still trying to shake off the daze you've found yourself in. "Yeah." Your voice is hoarse. You clear your throat and suck in a breath and put your drink down, dripping wetness that leaves a ring on the smooth wood of the bar, and try to speak normally this time, willing your voice to be level. "Yes. He's very good."

"Yoongi is here at the same time every week," Jin supplies, tone conversational, like he's just having a regular chat. Yoongi. His name is Yoongi. You wonder if Jin can hear how your heart is pounding, the galloping hooves of a wild horse that tumble in your chest. You try to keep your expression stoic as you look at him, scared that he'll be able to read what's written across your face— but he's smiling at you in the same way as before. Just a barkeeper who's trying to get a return customer. (Although, you'd swear there was a glint in his eye for the briefest moment, but then it's gone.) "He changes the set each time, if you're interested in coming back to hear something new."

Your mouth feels dry and you swallow, trying to wet your lips. Dionysus is too fancy of a place to ask customers for tips for the musicians, but— "Can I buy him a drink?"

Jin cocks his head at you. "A drink? For Yoongi?"

"Yes," you say. You feel a little shy when you spot his expression, biting your lip. "I just really enjoyed the music, and I'd like to tip him somehow? Is that a normal thing that people do?"

Jin pauses, and then smiles. This smile is a little wider than the ones he's given you before, different, but he seems pleased. "Who cares about what's normal? I'll get a drink to him. What would you like?"

"Um, whatever he prefers," you say. You figure that Jin would have a better idea about what that is than you, which is proven true by his almost instantaneous reply.

"He likes red wine, or whisky, neat. I think tonight is a whisky kind of night." He's already going through the motions of putting the drink together, and you slide him money as he begins to pour. You know nothing about Yoongi but you can't help but feel like the drink suits him— simple, classic, masculine. "Do you want me to pass on a message for you?"

"Um, you can just say that it's from someone who enjoyed the music, I guess?" You giggle a little, feeling awkward and off balance. Jin is looking at you like he's expecting you to say something else, but you just want to express your enjoyment of Yoongi's music and nothing more. You don't— you don't want to be weird, you just like the sound of his piano playing.

Jin disappears into the back with the glass of whisky, and you finish the watery remnants of your drink before you leave, ice cubes completely melted in the— wow— forty minutes that Yoongi had been playing. It hadn't felt that long at all.

It's not until you're stepping through your front door that you realise you haven't looked at your phone since before the beginning of Yoongi's set. Jimin's messages have been changing from apologetic to concerned to downright frantic.

jiminnie Y/N BLINK TWICE IF YOU NEED HELP

you how many times should i blink if i don't need help?

jiminnie omg you're ALIVE where were you?? i was starting to get worried

you sorry i got distracted! but i'm fine, i'm at home hoseok never showed

jiminnie yeah i know :(( he messaged me saying he had an emergency and couldn't make it tonight but he's free this weekend??

you … remember when i said that this was the last blind date i was going to go on?

jiminnie it doesn't count as a date if hyung never turned up!!!

you that isn't true and you know it omg minnie… i appreciate what you're trying to do but pls bb. let it rest

jiminnie i just want you to be happy :((

you i don't have to be in a relationship to be happy

jiminnie you said you were lonely!

you omg i was DRUNK let it GO besides being stood up by multiple blind dates isn't going to help me feel less lonely lmao i get that you're happy in your relationship with kookie and you want to spread that happiness but you don't have to!! i'm fine!! yeah i get lonely sometimes but what single person doesn't?? i'm happy being by myself hhhhh

jiminnie fine :(( but if you change your mind, hobi-hyung would still love to meet you!

As you kick off your heels, humming a bar of Yoongi's music to yourself, you think that Hoseok probably shouldn't bother holding his breath.

(That night, when you sleep, you dream of dark eyes and the press of a sinfully perfect cupid's bow against your own lips, a pair of large hands drawing noises from you like a glissando, rings cool against your heated skin.)

–

Wednesday nights become a ritual of sorts. You get dressed, do your hair, match your makeup to your outfit and shoes, coordinating your look into something that doesn't look out of place in Dionysus before you hop into a taxi and make your way to the bar.

You're a firm regular by now. Your seat has become just that, your seat, the same one you'd been sitting in the first time you'd been there; it's towards the dimmer lights at the back and so you're sitting further away from the stage than you might like, but at least you can see the whole room from here. You turn up twenty minutes before Yoongi's set and Jin always greets you warmly when he sees you: you've quickly come to enjoy your chats. Jin is always unashamedly himself and the two of you joke and laugh as he works, but he always knows to leave you alone as soon as Yoongi steps onto the stage. 

For the next forty minutes the rest of the world fades away as you drink Yoongi and his music in, listen to the lilting notes he coaxes out of the piano, watch how his fingers rest on each key before he slides into his next piece, reverent.

You never ever explicitly mention Yoongi in your conversations with Jin, though. The bartender seems to bring the musician up anyway; he does it smoothly, in a way that's utterly casual, and he seems to know a surprising amount about someone who is, by all accounts, a very private person. (You're not complaining about the fact that you now know that Yoongi wears Kumamon slippers because his feet get cold easily— "he's cold blooded, like a lizard," apparently— but you do wonder how Jin knows that.)

The Yoongi that Jin describes is just as beautiful as the man you see on stage, but less mysterious, less distant— and yet he still intimidates you. 

Jin might be his friend but to you Yoongi is unapproachable. Untouchable. To him you're just a nameless face in the audience, nothing more. His eyes will slide across the room before he starts his performance, but he never seems to notice you; it's no surprise, sitting where you do, in an area of relative darkness in comparison to the rest of the bar, and once he sits down he only looks at the piano under his hands. He has no eyes for anything else. You're far enough away and his lashes are cast so low that even when his eyes are open it's hard for you to see where he's looking, and the shadow of his fringe hides how his pupils scan his hands as he plays, anyway.

Every week, when the set draws to a close, Jin is already pouring Yoongi's whisky or wine and you slide him the exact amount of change. Every week, Jin asks if you want to pass on a message, and every week, you say the same thing: that it's from someone who enjoyed the music. And that's that. Jin will disappear to give Yoongi his drink and you'll finish your own drink in quiet solitude before you slide off your barstool to go home.

(The only thing that's changed over the weeks is that the music Yoongi plays seems to be a little lighter and— dare you say— happier? He still looks down at the piano with the same intensity, still lays his hands on the keys with the same delicate pressing weight before he begins to play— but with some songs he seems to be teasing the music out, flirting with each note, eyelashes fluttering as he lifts his chin and moves his hands.

You're not a musician by any means, so you don't know how to describe it with any sort of accuracy or terminology, but to you it's like the deep waters of Yoongi's music have been cut through with light, beams of sun rippling through the dark blue. You don't know what's caused this change, the slow uplift in his mood throughout the weeks, but you hope he manages to keep hold of it, whatever it is.)

Between work and studying and volunteering and making time to see friends, you don't often have time entirely to yourself, and so Wednesday nights are a rare moment of peace during your otherwise busy week. That's why when Jimin says that he's had to rearrange your weekly film night to Wednesday— because he and Jungkook are going down to Busan to see each other's families this weekend— you decline. 

Jimin is rendered speechless and demands to know why.

"I'm busy," is your answer. Jimin doesn't buy it.

"You're never too busy for movie night," he says. "Wednesday is the only night we're all free."

"Well, I'm not free, Minnie. Sorry," you say. His head is in your lap, your fingers gently stroking his hair, and you can easily see the way his face contorts with disbelief as he stares up at you.

"Do you hear that, babe? Y/n is too busy for our weekly tradition." Jimin sounds scandalised.

Jimin is stretched out between the two of you— while his head is in your lap, his feet are in Jungkook's, the younger man idly massaging his boyfriend's ankles and feet. "Yes, babe, I heard," Jungkook says, indulgent.

"What's more important than movie night?" Jimin lifts one of his legs and Jungkook turns his attention to that one, digging his fingers into the arch of Jimin's foot. Jimin sighs in relief, but then turns the full force of his stare back at you. "We were going to watch Spirited Away. You love Spirited Away."

"I'm just busy," you say, and that had been your mistake. You should have had some sort of credible reason but you hadn't been prepared, and while he hadn't made it obvious at the time, Jimin had latched onto your vague excuse, sniffing out weakness like a shark with blood in the water. If you'd been paying attention you'd have noticed, but you hadn't paid attention and so you hadn't noticed. (Whoops.)

And so, Wednesday night that week is the same as always; Yoongi plays his music, you fall a little bit more in love, and pass your compliments to him with Jin as the mouthpiece. You go home, wash your makeup off, and arch into the touch of your own hand while imagining it's someone else's fingers sliding across your skin. Routine. Normal. Uninterrupted. Peaceful.

The next week, however, it all goes to shit.

Okay. Maybe that's a little dramatic. It's not as bad as all that. The night starts as normal: you're on your stool, and you have your drink, and you have ten minutes until Yoongi is due to play, shifting to get comfortable, crossing your legs.

But then: 

"Oh my God, you're wearing your come fuck me heels," comes Jimin's voice from behind you, and your blood turns to ice.

You turn on the barstool so fast you almost fall off it. You come face to face with Jimin who has an expression of what can only be described as sheer delight on his face. He's even dressed appropriately for the bar, a silk shirt tucked into his Very Tight jeans and a subtle smoky eye to top it off; Jungkook looks nice, too, but you have no doubt that he's only here under sufferance, if the infinitely apologetic look on his face is anything to go by.

"Jimin?" Your voice comes out as a hiss. If you were a cat your back would be up and your hackles would be raised and all your fur would be on end, your entire body going into fight mode. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see for myself what was more important than movie night," Jimin says simply, like it's obvious. "So here we are."

"Sorry, Y/n," Jungkook apologises from over his boyfriend's shoulder. Jimin ignores him.

You can feel how your face is starting to flush, your skin crawling with embarrassment. You change your outfit every week and your friends have managed to turn up on the one week where you've cycled into what could probably be considered your most promiscuous one, the hem of your dress high and the cut of it low, along with shoes that Jimin had rightfully named as your Come Fuck Me heels. It wasn't because you were trying to seduce anyone but you only have so many items in your wardrobe that are appropriate for Dionysus. 

"How did you find me?"

"I have my ways," Jimin says mysteriously.

"He stalked your Bitmoji on Snapchat. Ow." Jungkook pouts as Jimin slaps his arm. "Sorry, again. I said we should leave you alone but Jimin said we should check in case you'd been kidnapped because you never willingly go into bars."

You're interrupted by Jin, who'd been busy serving someone when your idiot friends had turned up; he leans across the bar and touches your shoulder and fixes Jimin and Jungkook with the most intimidating look you've ever seen on his face. You know Jin as a light-hearted pun master, harmless and goofy and approachable, a great friend— but right now he looks like some sort of beautiful guardian angel, broad shouldered and narrow eyed and honestly, pretty menacing. 

"Are you alright?" He keeps his eyes on the other two men as he speaks. "Are these guys bothering you?"

Jimin, rather than looking cowed, looks like he's reached a stage of absolute euphoria, eyes darting between Jin's hand on your shoulder to your face. Jungkook's face, meanwhile, is doing that thing it does whenever someone issues him some kind of challenge, his sweetness abruptly being swallowed by his competitive side and his stubborn refusal to lose anything. You're the only person who has the power to save this situation before it goes absolutely tits up, and you swallow down a resigned sigh.

"I'm fine, thank you, Jin," you say, looking at him with a smile as you pat the hand on your shoulder. "Unfortunately these guys are my friends, much to my infinite suffering. Well, Jungkook's alright. Jimin is the one who's the pain."

"Hey," Jimin whines. Jungkook looks quietly pleased, but pretends to scowl when Jimin looks at him, offended on his boyfriend's behalf.

Jin still seems unhappy but pulls his hand back. "Alright," he says, but then he pitches his voice low so that only you can hear: "If you need any help, just ask me for a rum and soda, okay?"

You always order mocktails whenever you're here, wanting to stay completely sober so that you can enjoy Yoongi's playing with all the attention it deserves. You've never asked for anything alcoholic, least of all a rum and soda. Although you really are okay, you can't help but be warmed by Jin's concern for you and how he's offering you this careful, considerate lifeline in case you need it. "I will do. Thanks, Jinnie."

He smiles at you and then gives Jungkook and Jimin one final frown before going to deal with a gaggle of customers who've gathered at the other end of the bar. While Jungkook remains standing, taking in the interior of the bar with wide eyes, Jimin slides onto the stool next to yours.

"He's fucking hot," Jimin says with no preamble, eyeing Jin without shame as the bartender starts to pour and mix different drinks. Jungkook makes a disgruntled noise but settles when Jimin pats him fondly on the butt. "I'm not surprised you're wearing those heels. I would too if I were you."

"Oh my God, Jimin." You hide your face in your hands. "Jin is just a friend, please don't make this weird."

"Come on, Y/n, it's okay," Jimin says reassuringly as he pats your shoulder, replacing Jin's touch with his own. "The blind dates might not have worked out, but you've met someone nice so that's good! I mean, you did meet him because I organised the date here in the first place, but I'll let that slide. Also I can't believe you missed movie night because of a boy and you didn't tell me, but I'll let that slide too because I love you."

Park Jimin is your best friend. Park Jimin meddles in your life despite your protestations and isn't beyond being passive aggressive to get his way, but Park Jimin is also one of the nicest people you know and everything he does is because he loves you and will do whatever he thinks is necessary to reach his end goal of making you happy. He's magnanimous and kind and caring, and he also has absolutely the wrong idea right now, clearly under the impression that you're attracted to Seokjin and have been flirting with him for however many weeks it's been since you were meant to meet Hoseok here.

"No, seriously, Jimin, it's not Jin." You look at Jimin through the gaps in your fingers. "He's cute, yeah, but I don't come here because of him."

Your friend looks genuinely baffled, hand stilling on your shoulder. "Then why are you here?"

And, with perfect timing— as if your life is some badly written film or romantic drama— the clock ticks over to 8pm and Yoongi steps onto the stage. His hair is dark, blond replaced with black a few weeks ago, though it's still long enough that it hangs in his eyes; he looks a little ragged around the edges, a little messy, a little tired, and altogether beautiful. You want to touch the coolness of your fingertips to the dark circles under his eyes, want to press kisses across each of his bony knuckles, want to let your tongue settle in the hollow of his neck that shows each time he leans back and tilts his head up just so.

You hadn't even meant to but you'd turned away from Jimin the second you'd heard piano notes begin to play, drawn in by the sound like a moth to a flame. Jimin's hand falls off your shoulder and you hear him breathe out a quiet oh of realisation. You tear your eyes away from the sight of Yoongi at the piano and turn on your stool to face the bar again, gripping your glass with both hands, shoulders hunched.

"I like to watch him play," you say, and your voice is near a whisper, so as not to detract from the music.

"It's beautiful," Jungkook says, speaking before Jimin can say anything. His voice is quiet, too, not wanting to break over the sound of the piano. 

And so you hear with absolute clarity as Yoongi shifts mid-song into something different and it startles you. Yoongi always varies his music, always has something new, but you've been here often enough that you had recognised the opening song— it was one of your favourites— and you know that he's cut himself off before finishing, soft melody jumping into the opening bars of something different, sharper, a little angry, maybe sorrowful. Something that pulls at you and demands your attention.

Of course you give it to him. You swing your head away from your drink to watch him once more, watch how his motions have changed, the way he surges forward and presses his weight into his arms and down into his hands, his fingertips, the keys. You turn your entire body at this point, settling in your usual position for when you watch Yoongi; you see how his head tilts and he shifts from a minor into a major key, the same notes and chords transformed from something pensive into something joyful as he leans away from the heavier hands he'd been forcing the keys down with.

"How long does this go on for?" Jimin asks.

"About thirty or forty minutes," you answer. Though you turn your head back over your shoulder so that Jimin can hear you, you keep your eyes fixed on Yoongi. It's probably entirely coincidental, the sudden change in his music coinciding with when you turned away from him and when you looked back. He's not playing for you, he's playing for the whole bar, and besides, he's been looking down at the piano the whole time. He hasn't been looking at you.

And yet. The idea that Yoongi has noticed you and wants you to watch him has something hot settling low in your belly.

Jimin leans forward so that his chin is on your shoulder, talking directly into your ear as his hands wrap around your waist from behind. "This is the guy?"

Yoongi finishes the song and you watch in captivation as he swallows and runs a hand through his hair before he starts the next one. He's never done that before. Fuck. "Yes. Yoongi's the guy."

"Do you wait until he's finished so you can speak with him?" Jimin asks, ever curious.

You pause. "No," you admit. "No, I've never actually spoken to him."

Jimin doesn't ask why you've been coming back to see a guy you don't know and haven't talked to. He just hums gently. Jimin is pushy but he's also understanding and empathetic and knows what to say, when to press forward and when to hold back. It's one of the reasons you love him so much.

Jimin lapses into silence as Yoongi starts the next piece. It's one you haven't heard before and it's a little fiercer than most of Yoongi's recent songs. Rather than each note sliding into the next, he hammers them out separately, each note a statement that builds into something larger, a provocation. A storm gathering above Yoongi's waters, threatening to pull you in, pull you under.

Behind you, you hear Jungkook and Jimin briefly murmuring to each other, then Jimin's hands slide from off your waist and you hear the sound of him shifting so that Jungkook can sit down, Jimin using his boyfriend's lap as a chair instead. You have to wonder if the barstools can actually support that kind of weight, but Jin doesn't come over to tell them off, so you figure it must be okay.

On stage, Yoongi's hands pause, an uncharacteristic caesura that breaks the flow of the notes he'd been stringing together before he resumes playing as if this hiccup had never occurred. To anyone else, it would sound like that break was meant to be there, but you know better. You know Yoongi had faltered.

No way.

No way?

He's paying attention to you.

(Oh, shit.)

No way.

You're suddenly so overwhelmed that you actually feel nauseous. You've been consumed with thoughts of Yoongi for weeks, had images of him playing you just as easily as he does that piano, thoughts of him laying you out bare beneath him, but the idea that Yoongi actually knows who you are? Is aware of you on some level? Wants your eyes on him?

Fuck. 

It's too much. 

You're already off kilter from Jimin and Jungkook's arrival— as harmless as their appearance was meant to be— and this is the cherry on top. You don't know if you can keep your composure right now and you need to get away from Yoongi before you end up walking onto the stage and pulling him off that stupid piano stool to show him exactly how much you enjoy his music.

"Jimin? Jungkook? How about you say we go to a club and get absolutely shitfaced?"

You haven't looked away from Yoongi in the time that you've said this, but you can just feel the confusion emanating from the men behind you.

"But you—"

"I thought—"

"We're already dressed up, aren't we? Besides, I still owe you for film night, so drinks are on me."

There's little argument from them after that. For the first time since you've been coming here you leave before Yoongi's set is done, slipping out of the bar without noticing Jin's confused gaze on you. 

It's not until much later, once you've drunkenly fallen onto Jimin and Jungkook's couch, that the sober part of your brain whispers to you: you didn't buy Yoongi his drink.

(That night you dream of stormy skies and tattered sails and a capsizing ship. Once you wake, the memory of the dream quickly leaves you, and the last thing you remember is the sight of someone reaching towards you, pulling you out of the water, skin pale and head ringed with blond hair, a halo— and then you forget that too, slipping through your fingers like quicksand.)

–

Of course you go back to Dionysus the next week. You make Jimin promise that he won't turn up without warning again, and then you make Jungkook promise that he'll at least send you a heads-up message if Jimin changes his mind. Despite both these promises, after the debacle last week with your outfit, you've actually bought new clothes, so at least today you don't feel as scandalous. (You still look hot, though.)

You're grateful when Jin doesn't press you for details or ask why you left early last week. He just greets you like he normally does and predicts your order with his usual aptitude, and as you stir your drink with your straw, you have to wonder at what happened. You're probably overreacting, overthinking things, grasping at nothing; there is not a chance in hell that Min Yoongi, reclusive piano savant, has noticed you. No way. Nuh-uh.

He's probably only aware of your existence because of the repeated drinks you've had Jin foist on him. If anything he's probably annoyed at you after not tipping him with last week— he's probably come to expect them by now and you'd forced him to miss out. Maybe you'll get Jin to give him two drinks this week? Ooh, then again, maybe not. Is two shots of whisky a lot? People drink doubles, don't they. How strong is the wine he likes, anyway?

Yoongi's appearance on stage pulls you out of your thoughts. He makes his way up the steps, towards the piano, scans the room— and then for the first time since you've been coming here to watch him, he stops.

He stops because he's looking at you.

It's only for the briefest moment, eyes resting on you for maybe five seconds, and then you breathlessly watch as his mouth twists into something that can only be described as a smirk, pleased at the sight of you.

Oh, God.

He looks away and sits at the piano like he normally does, but you would swear that his back is a little straighter— something in his posture that reads as cockiness, even. He launches into a song that starts light but then almost immediately dances into something flirtatious, seductive, and tonight whenever Yoongi glances at you, he makes sure that you know. He turns his head just so, looks at you through the curve of his lashes, each touch of those dark eyes against your own sending little shivers through you, punching the breath out of your lungs.

You've always been entranced by Yoongi and tonight is no different. The minutes slide by as easy as water, liquid, music gliding over you like the rising tide, kissing your skin like the ebb and flow of the waves. It feels like he's barely started when his set is over and he's finished, standing up with as little ostentation as always before he vanishes off the stage.

You already have the money counted out before Jin has made his way over. You slide it towards him as he pours the whisky, but rather than asking if you have a message to pass to Yoongi, a look of consternation passes over his face.

"The price has gone up," Jin says, and you blink.

"Oh, that's no problem. How much is it now?" You're reaching for your purse to get more money out when Jin puts the whisky on the bar in front of you.

"No, don't worry, I'll just go out back and get the right change for you," he says. He says it with such confidence that it takes you a beat too long to realise that what he's just said makes no sense— why is he getting you change if you haven't even given him enough money? Isn’t there change in the till?— but by this point he's already gone, the staff door swinging shut behind him. 

You tilt your head, beyond confused.

Someone chuckles from behind you, the sound quiet and low. "Ah, cute."

You twist in your seat to see who's talking and then freeze. Yoongi is standing right there, looking at you with his dark, dark eyes; it's the first time you've been subjected to the full intensity of his gaze, from this close, and your pulse picks up. He looks a little softer without the lights of the small stage throwing him into sharp relief but his aura is just as intense; your eyes dart across each feature of his face as you drink him in— the mess of his fringe hanging into his sharp eyes, the faintest freckle on his nose, his surprisingly cute cheeks, his pink mouth.

The mouth that's curving into a sly little smile, now, your eyes flying back up to meet his own.

"I'm guessing this is for me?" He points at the whisky. He takes it before you can answer, and there's something unfairly erotic about how he drinks it: the way he holds the glass, swirling the whisky over the chilled rocks inside; the way his mouth falls open as the tumbler touches his lips; the way his head tilts back as he lets the liquor flow into his mouth, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

You shamelessly watch him the whole time. He lowers the glass from his lips, still a little parted as he takes a breath in, and then he's looking back at you. You have to bite back a noise that's risen up in your throat, unbidden. Does he know how much he affects you? 

You adjust your position on the barstool, thoughtlessly uncrossing and recrossing your legs as you regain your balance. Yoongi's eyes fly down to watch the motion and you're close enough to him that you see how his pupils dilate at the movement. A breath escapes your mouth, a little pant of air that you desperately mask as a cough as you try to calm the racing of your heart, the flood of arousal that's pulsing through you.

"I'm glad you like the whisky," you say, your voice steady despite how your legs feel like they're about to give out. (Thank god you're sitting down.) "I'm sorry to have deprived you of it last week."

Yoongi's shifted so that he's leaning against the bar. He's standing while you're still sitting and you have to tilt your head back to look at him. "You did seem like you were in an awful hurry," he says, a teasing lilt to his tone, and yet his voice is still so low, deeper than you'd imagined.

Despite the levity in his words there's something heavy in his gaze. "Oh?" You can't help but react to it, helpless and unable to resist. "You noticed me leaving?"

Yoongi's eyes sharpen. Hooked. "Of course," he says. "You're the only thing I pay attention to when I'm here. You have been from the first night you walked in."

Your breath catches in your throat. You hadn't expected Yoongi to say something so forthright, to be so direct, more used to coy flirtation from the other people you've met in the past; it's like you've been dipped in cold water, a shock to the system, bracing and invigorating and refreshing.

"Oh," you say, at a loss with how to respond. Yoongi seems pleased to have gotten this reaction out of you, the corners of his lips curving upwards in a self satisfied smile.

"Besides," he adds, "I find it flattering that not only do you come here every week to watch me, you always make sure to make your appreciation known, too." He lifts the glass up and takes another drink, but this time he keeps his eyes locked on yours as he does, gaze unwavering as he finishes his drink. The rocks tumble over themselves as he sets the glass down on the bar, lower lip wet with a drop of whisky that lingers; his tongue sweeps across it and leaves a sheen, catching the light, shining. You can't tear your eyes away from the sight. "It would have been hard to ignore that even if I'd wanted to."

A shiver trickles down your spine. You'd really only ever meant it as a compliment, a quiet way to express your admiration about his craft, and you have to ask— "How long have you been playing the piano?"

This question seems to throw Yoongi off kilter. You see the way his lashes flutter as he blinks with surprise. "For as long as I can remember," he says, and then a small smile appears on his lips. "When I was young I had a toy piano that I constantly used to hammer at, so when I grew up a little, my parents bought the real thing so that I could learn how to play."

He sounds nostalgic and your heart squeezes in your chest. "You're self-taught, right?" You ask, remembering something Jin had told you before. 

Yoongi looks briefly startled. "Yes, I am," he says, and then his eyes narrow. "Did Jin tell you that?"

"Um, yeah." You squirm a little on the barstool. "Sorry, should I not have said anything about it?"

"No, no, you're okay. It's just that Jin says a lot of things, and I'm just wondering what else he said to you." Yoongi's tone is weirdly pained.

The concern is obvious on his face, and you wonder if Jin is to Yoongi what Jimin is to you— well-meaning but maybe a little overwhelming in their approach. 

"All good things, I promise. I love dogs, too." You smile up at Yoongi, who seems a little taken aback, and the smile starts to drop off your face. "Um. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." For all that Yoongi was smirking earlier, he seems a little unsure now. You feel confused, waiting as Yoongi clearly turns some thoughts over in his head, and then he says: "What exactly has Jin told you?"

You smile. You recognise that tone, the nonchalance that hides a little worry— it's exactly how you sound whenever you find out that Jimin has been speaking to someone about you, even if it's always positively. "Oh, just bits and pieces," you say. Feeling bold, you pat the barstool next to you, tilting your head invitingly. "Why don't you tell me about yourself instead so we can see if Jin was lying to me?"

Yoongi looks genuinely startled, his eyes widening imperceptibly before the expression wipes off his face as if nothing had happened. "Why not," he says, as if in equal parts to himself and to you, before he takes a seat.

Here's what you learn about Yoongi: he's intense, yes, and soft spoken, but as you continue to talk, he begins to loosen up, bit by bit. When he laughs he smiles so wide that his eyes squeeze shut and you can see his gums and you're so fucking endeared at the sight. He's sharp and smart and witty and just so, so intriguing. 

You prop your elbow on the bar and rest your cheek in your hand as he talks, wanting to take everything in, and you rapidly realise that Min Yoongi is less of an enigma than you'd thought, but just as complex as you'd expected— and you want to unravel that complexity. If he'll let you.

You've been talking for so long that the bar has started to empty out, patrons trickling away, the two of you so engrossed with each other that you barely notice. You find out that Jin and Yoongi are actually roommates, best friends, and that Jin is as chaotic as you'd expect and is also very good at drawing Yoongi into his shenanigans; you throw your head back to laugh at one of his stories, and when you catch your breath you find Yoongi looking at you, watching you with an expression on his face that makes you pause. He's been watching you intently all night, listening quietly whenever you talk, but this expression, this is new. He swallows.

"Can I ask something?"

You blink. "Sure, go ahead."

"Why did you keep coming back?" Yoongi asks, and that's not a question you'd been expecting at all.

"Uh," you say eloquently. "Well. Honestly? I couldn't stay away, I guess. I'm not really a musician, and I don't know a lot about the piano, but there's something in your music and the way you play— every song makes me feel something different and new, or reminds me of something I haven't felt, places I haven't been to, but I feel like I know somehow. Like I'm nostalgic for something that I haven't experienced, that doesn't exist. It's almost like you're taking my hand and showing me around some hidden part of the world that only you can see— like you've made it into music because that's the only way you can communicate it. How could I not come back after that?" You pause. "Um. Does that make sense? I feel like it didn't. Sorry?"

Yoongi's been watching you as you've been talking, silent, and by the time you've finished his mouth has fallen open a little. He stares at you for a few moments longer, and then he says: "Holy shit." And then he says: "Oh my God." And then he says: "What the fuck."

"… I guess it didn't make sense, then?" Despite the ease of your earlier conversation you suddenly feel awkward, laughing a little as your legs uncross so that you can shuffle to the edge of your barstool. Ready to hop up and make a quick get away if you need to. Run away from the embarrassment. "Um."

"Y/n," Yoongi says, and you realise with a start that you haven't introduced yourself to him throughout your whole conversation— Jin must have told him your name— but then he keeps talking. "I thought you just— I don't know, that you just kept coming back because of me. Not the music. Then Jin kept talking about you and—" 

He makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat and runs a hand through his hair; you stare at his bared forehead, and it says about how attracted you are to him that the sight of his forehead is enough to set your heart racing. "I thought that maybe if I let this happen just one time that it would be enough, but now I don't think it will."

"Yoongi." You're confused, unsure if you've correctly understood what he's just said. "Let what happen one time? What are you talking about?"

"Touching you," Yoongi says. "Fucking you." His voice is a rasp and the sound of it, the sound of his words, shoots straight through you and into your core. "I thought the drinks were— I don't know, an invitation. But they weren't, were they? You really meant it. You really like my music. And me."

Yoongi's voice is hoarse and you come to the realisation that he feels tense. Like he can accept that you want to have sex with him, but he's bowled over by the idea that you're attracted to the other parts, too, as few of those as you know. That you genuinely enjoy what he plays. That you think it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard.

"Yoongi," you say, tone deceptively gentle. "I really, really like your music, and I think you're an incredibly talented musician, and I've been memorising everything Jin's been telling me about you because I think you're one of the most interesting people I've ever come across and I'd really like to get to know more about you. So I'm really glad to have had the opportunity to talk to you like this." You gesture between the two of you, sitting as you are, facing towards each other on your barstools. And then you brace yourself to take the leap, to throw yourself into uncharted waters. "However, I am also insanely attracted to you and I've spent the past I-don't-know-how-many weeks picturing you bending me over that piano and fucking me so hard that I can't walk straight."

Yoongi freezes in the middle of rubbing the back of his neck, a clearly nervous habit. Though your voice has kept steady while you've been talking, your heart has been thrumming in your chest the whole time, feeling as nervous as Yoongi looks. Something flickers across his face, and his hand drops away from his neck as he straightens, pushing himself off from where he's been leaning against the bar.

"Oh?" He leans towards you. Your legs unthinkingly part as he moves, the material of your dress hitching up as you spread your knees so that he can get closer. "So you do want me to fuck you?"

His nervousness seems to be entirely gone, emboldened by your words. One of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, fingers sliding into your hair as he holds you in place, at his mercy. He's barely touched you but the feeling of contact makes you bite back a whimper. Even though it's darker here and you're away from the tables, away from the few remaining patrons of the bar, the two of you are in plain sight even under the dimmed lights; you're not doing anything illicit or inappropriate but a little thrill trickles down your spine at the idea.

"Yoongi," you breathe.

"What is it, babygirl?" He tips his head down as he moves closer, his nose brushing yours, each of his words a warm curl across your lips. "Tell me."

The pet name sends a shiver through you. Your hands rise from your lap, sliding over his chest to touch lightly at his neck, a little shy, a little bold. "I want you to kiss me."

"Oh?" Yoongi's mouth is so close to yours, and when you tilt forward to kiss him, he stays just out of your reach, leaving you wanting. "You think you deserve a kiss, do you?"

You can't help but make a little noise, a petulant whine at the back of your throat. He has you entirely at his mercy and he knows it. "Please," you say. "Please, Yoongi, wanna kiss you so bad."

The smile he gives you in reply is wicked. "How can I say no when you've asked so politely?"

Yoongi finally, finally dips his head down and then he's kissing you with such intensity it steals the breath out of you. It's open-mouthed and wet and dirty, his tongue sliding into your mouth in between taking your top and bottom lips between his own, alternating, sucking on them and lapping at them with his tongue. You chase after his mouth with your own, roll your tongues together, hands sliding over the smooth skin of his throat as they circle behind his neck, but then Yoongi pulls away; you bite that needy whine back again, kiss cut short far sooner than you would have liked.

Yoongi is taking the sight of you in, eyes lingering on your shining lips, and then he's rising to stand. You're shaken out of your kiss-induced haze when he does, a little confused, but he takes your hand in his and you let him lift up, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to the back of your knuckles.

"Do you want to get out of here?" His voice is pitched low, deep with a promise of pleasure to come, and you shiver.

"God, I thought you'd never ask," you say in a rush, and he just laughs quietly at your obvious desperation.

"Come on, then." He helps you off the barstool, your hand still in his— god, his hands are so big and his touch is so warm. His eyes are dark as he watches the way you reach to rearrange the hem of your dress with your free hand, but he beats you to it, palm flattening the material against your legs; his fingers dance just under the edge as he straightens it, hand sliding over the skin of your inner thigh and lingering before he pulls away.

"You're shameless," you say, a little breathless, and Yoongi just smirks at you. Tease.

Your fingers remain tangled with his as he leads you behind the bar and through the staff door. Jin's out back, scrolling through something on his phone, but as soon as you walk in he abandons whatever he's doing and raises his eyebrows. He looks surprisingly severe. "Customers aren't allowed back here."

Your eyes widen, but then Jin's serious expression cracks and he starts to laugh. Although he's joking and clearly doesn't care, you feel a little guilty at breaking the rules and duck behind Yoongi, shy. Yoongi snorts and holds a middle finger up at the bartender.

Jin gasps theatrically, clutching his chest while looking askance. "I raise you from birth and this is the thanks I get?"

"You're one year older than me, hyung."

"I carry you in my womb for nine months and birth you into this world and you— oh, okay, you technically shouldn't be doing that either," Jin says, stopping mid-sentence as Yoongi decides his hyung has been talking for too long and turns away from him to start kissing you again, shameless as he tugs you close to him and licks into your mouth; you immediately fall back into him, unable to resist. "Jesus Christ, Yoongi."

Once you part, you bury your head into Yoongi's chest as his arms come around you, hiding your embarrassment in Yoongi's dress shirt. "Sorry, Jinnie," you say, muffled.

"You are absolutely not to blame here, Y/n, you are an angel and a sweetheart." Jin's tone is soothing. "Yoongi, however, is a tiny evil gremlin who needs to learn how to control himself. Though I can't blame him, you are very cute."

"Hyung, I need the apartment tonight," Yoongi says without preamble. You wriggle in the circle of his arms. You're not normally this timid but Yoongi is just so direct and blasé with Jin that you can't help but feel a little shy, as hot and bothered as you are.

"I'll crash at Joon's," the bartender says. He’s obviously not surprised. You lift your head from Yoongi's chest to look at Jin and find that he's smiling at you. "If Yoongi starts to bother you, just whap him on the nose. I find a rolled up newspaper works best if you have one to hand."

"I'll kill you, Kim Seokjin," Yoongi says.

Jin just laughs as he waves the two of you off and you take the initiative to start pulling Yoongi towards the back door. He comes easily, but once the door has swung shut behind you he takes the lead again and guides you towards his car. He lets go of your hand so that he can unlock it, swinging the passenger door open for you, and he's unabashed in how he watches you step in and eyes the way your dress hitches up again as you slide into your seat; he leans against the car and just stares at you.

There's honestly nothing sexier when someone clearly wants you as much as you want them. It makes you feel bold, drunk on the way he looks at you. 

You glance up at him through your lashes. "The sooner we get to yours, the sooner you can have me," you say.

Yoongi curses under his breath. "You're going to be the death of me."

Surprisingly enough, though, he keeps his hands to himself when he gets behind the wheel. You can't help but feel a little surprised; you don't know how close Yoongi's home is to the bar, but you very rapidly tire of waiting to feel his hands on you again and so you lean over the centre console and press a fleeting kiss just behind his ear.

Yoongi doesn't outwardly react, continuing to stare at the road, so you take this as a challenge. You slide one of your hands onto his thigh— for balance, of course— and kiss behind his ear again, tug his lobe with your teeth, mindful of his piercings, and then proceed to trail little kisses down his neck and the little slither of his collarbone that you can reach without his shirt getting in the way. You finally get to lick your tongue in the hollow of his neck that you've been thinking about for weeks.

Yoongi's hands tighten on the steering wheel. Jackpot. 

"Y/n," he says, voice low, and you're so close to his throat that you can hear the rumble behind his words. You love it. "You should stop now, or we're not going to make it to my apartment."

You go still. Yoongi continues to look at the road but his knuckles are white with how hard he's gripping the wheel, and when you glance down you can see how much you've affected him, cock hardening in his slacks. It would be so easy to slide your hand up his thigh and finally touch him, have him pull over and wreck you, but you want something more than a quick fumble in the seat of a car. 

So you just press your lips lightly against the line of his jaw one last time. You let yourself breathe in the dark scent of his cologne— pinewood and pepper and something deeper— before you pull back, folding your hands in your lap demurely, trying to force yourself to be content with waiting.

"Good girl," Yoongi says. You can't help but preen; you don't normally respond to praise like this, but something about Yoongi just makes you want to please him, hear him compliment you again. Yoongi glances at you, a little flicker of realisation as he sees how you've just reacted to his words, and his eyes darken. "You like that, baby? Like being a good girl for me?"

Fuck. "Yes." Your pulse is rising. You've been craving Yoongi for weeks, but god, if he asked you to go home right now, sent you home without touching you, you'd go, just to hear him call you a good girl again. But you don't want him to leave you untouched, you don't want that at all. "I want you to touch me, Yoongi," you say. "I'll be a good girl, please just touch me."

"Fuck." Yoongi's foot presses down on the accelerator. He's never wanted to live closer to the bar before, but the sight of you staring at him from his passenger seat and rubbing your thighs together in a desperate attempt to give yourself some relief is making him rethink his housing location. "I will, baby. We'll be there soon."

Soon turns out to be less than five minutes, scarcely any time at all, though each second is torturous in how long it feels. Yoongi's careless in how he parks the car, wonky within the lines of his spot, but neither of you notice or care. You fumble with the buckle of your belt, climbing out of the car as quickly as you can and slamming the door shut with more power than you probably need to, noise loud in the quiet of the night.

Before you can react, however, Yoongi is rounding the car and grabbing you, pressing you against the metal and glass of the door. One of his hands slips under your thigh, lifting your leg and shoving the hem of your dress out of the way so that he can grind against you; you gasp at the feeling of his growing hardness against the dampness of your underwear, and Yoongi leans forward to swallow the sound into his mouth. 

The kiss is rushed and desperate, but you love the messiness of it. Yoongi pulls away to press his lips against the side of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, mouthing at the jumping pulse he finds there. You start to make small ah-ah noises when he laves his tongue over it, one of your hands tangling in his hair as you tilt your head back, each of his touches fizzing like electricity on your skin.

"P-people could see," you stutter, struggling to catch your breath with how good his mouth feels on you.

Yoongi smirks against your skin. "I thought you wanted me to touch you," he says, but immediately relents, pulling away from you so he can lead you into the building. You miss the heat of his body against yours but he keeps hold of your hand as you follow him; it's late and the building seems quiet, so you're mindful of just how loud your high heels sound as they clack on the floor, though Yoongi doesn't seem to care.

When you step into the apartment you reach down for the straps on your shoes so you can kick them off but Yoongi stops you with a hand to your shoulder. It's a light touch but you stop immediately, glancing up from your feet to his face.

"Let me," he says, and a hot trickle of arousal runs down your spine at the tone of his voice. 

You straighten up and watch as Yoongi gets down on one knee, hands circling around your ankle and lifting your foot. You rest the toe of your shoe lightly on Yoongi's knee, watching as he undoes the strap around your ankle and slides the shoe off, setting it to one side, before he presses his lips to the inside of your knee. You shiver at the light touch and Yoongi smirks, letting your ankle go so you can move and he can take your other shoe off, too.

He barely takes his eyes off your face the whole time, only glancing down when he has to. His motions are slow and unhurried despite his earlier rush, carefully setting the second shoe next to the first, and you can't help but feel like he's teasing you— drawing out your reactions just because he can. Before you can say anything about it, though, his hands trail up from your calves to your thigh before he hitches your leg over his shoulder, one hand staying on your thigh as the other grips at your hip.

You bite back a gasp. From his angle Yoongi can see everything and he's looking up with hooded eyes, staring at the dark patch on your underwear, wet for him; his gaze trails across the lace of the lingerie you're wearing, the small colourful flowers blooming across the dark material. It was something you'd put on to complete your outfit, the matching panties and bra making you feel expensive and pretty— even if you hadn't expected anyone to see it.

"Look at you," he says, hand lowering from your hip to trace lightly across your slit; it's a barely-there touch, sensation dulled by the material in the way, but you still jolt at the feeling of it. "Did you wear this for me?"

"Of course," you confess. You've wanted his eyes on you for so long. "Always dress up pretty for you."

"Fuck." He sounds reverent. "You've always been such a good girl for me, haven't you?"

A needy noise rises unbidden at the back of your throat when Yoongi spreads your leg wider and leans forward to mouth at you through the lace of your panties. Your knees go weak and you have to lean back against the wall for balance, grateful at how close you are to it when Yoongi draws his tongue upwards, wetting the fabric, your toes curling.

"Yoongi." One of your hands is resting in his hair and you can't stop your grip from tightening. "Yoongi, please."

He gives you what you want, fingers hooking into your underwear and pulling it down; he lets your leg drop so that you can step out of them, but as soon as you've finished he throws the panties to one side, one hand splaying across your stomach as the other lifts your leg again so that you’re spread open for him, immediately pressing his mouth to your clit.

"Oh!" You gasp. Yoongi seems to have tired of his teasing and is eating you out like a man starved, the slick sound of his tongue and lips filling the apartment as he laves attention on your dripping pussy, staring up at you as he drinks your reactions in. He dips his tongue into you and your hips try to buck forwards but the hand on your stomach holds you in place, firm, and you let out an embarrassingly loud keen at how good it feels to be this powerless.

You slap your free hand across your mouth and try to swallow the noise down. Yoongi frowns and stops, leaning his head back as he looks at you; his mouth is shining with evidence of your arousal, opalescent. "I want to hear you."

You bite your lip, forcing your hand away from your mouth; you don't want to be too loud, too noisy, but you want to be a good girl for Yoongi. He wants to hear you so you'll give him what he wants.

"O-okay," you breathe, and Yoongi smirks up at you; it's filthy, how he's looking at you like that while his lips are wet with you. You tilt your hips towards him, desperate to have his mouth on you again, and he immediately complies.

He's lapping at your clit when the hand on your stomach moves and slides down. You watch as he takes his tongue off you so that he can curl it around his fingers instead, before running those fingers across your lower lips to gather the slick there, wetting them even further. You roll your hips into the sensation, loving the press of his slightly rough fingers against your silken folds, wanting more, eyes wide as you watch how Yoongi's hand trails between your legs.

He puts his mouth back on your clit at the same time as he presses one of those spit slick fingers into you. You're so turned on that the initial slide in is easy, but he still takes his time; he's distracting you with the way he's sucking at your small bundle of nerves but you still feel when he presses his second finger in, longer than yours, the sensation of it even better than you'd dreamed.

He crooks his fingers and you throw your head back against the wall, dull thud barely registering over the sensation of Yoongi inside you. He sees how you react and continues to move his fingers in the same way, thrusting his fingers in and curling them as he pulls out, watching as you writhe; the pleasure inside you has been growing, the feeling building, and if Yoongi keeps doing that then you're going to cum. "I'm close," you gasp.

Yoongi responds to this by pushing a third finger inside you, rubbing his fingertips directly over your sweet spot. The stretch burns, just a little, but God, you love it. He purses his lips over your clit and flicks his tongue over it at the same time as he curls his fingers again and it undoes you; your spine arches away from the wall as you cum, ripples of pleasure sparking through your body as you tighten around Yoongi's fingers, sobbing almost deliriously at how good it feels.

Yoongi watches you the whole time, keeps his mouth on you as you ride out your high. He only moves away when you start to jolt from oversensitivity, pulling his fingers out carefully as he does. You feel empty without them inside you and you can't wait for him to fill you up with something better instead.

Yoongi holds you steady, his grip firm as you slip your leg from his shoulder and shakily push yourself off the wall. Once you've gotten your balance he stands up— his knees must hurt but he doesn't complain, too busy watching you lift his fingers to your lips, sucking them into your mouth so you can lick the taste of yourself off him.

"Jesus Christ." Yoongi stares at the way you flick your tongue across his skin, glancing at him coquettishly through your lashes. You reach out for him, hands moving towards his belt, but he shakes his head. "Bedroom," he says.

Of course you follow him. At any other time you'd be taking in the details of the apartment, the glimpses you get into the other rooms, but you're too busy looking at Yoongi to have a mind for anything else. He's been hard for so long by now that it must be driving him crazy and you want to give him what he wants. What he needs.

He swings a door open and flicks a light on. Yoongi's room is what you'd expected: neat and organised, with dark furnishings, the only mess being a few scrunched up balls of paper that have overflowed the trash-bin by his desk, which has a pile of notepads next to his laptop and a set up of musical equipment that looks far too complex for you to make heads or tails of. 

You forget about this instantly, however, when Yoongi captures your lips in another kiss, a hand splaying across your jaw so that he can control the pace, crowding you towards the bed until the back of your knees make contact with it and you fall onto the mattress. Yoongi cages you in with his arms and keeps kissing you, though when you palm him through his slacks he hisses through his teeth.

"Want you, Yoongi." You use your hand to stroke over the hardness of him as you nip at his lower lip. "Please."

"Fuck, of course, babygirl." Yoongi leans back and you move with him, sitting up as he stands straight. He unbuttons his shirt and you help him slide it off his shoulders, using it as an excuse to run your hands over the pale skin he reveals to you, sliding your palms down his chest and over his stomach; you dip your head to kiss where your hands have traced, letting your tongue flick across his skin. You lick shamelessly at one of his nipples and feel drunk on the way he lets out a surprised little breath, turning your head to do the same to his other nipple as your hands finally reach their goal: his belt.

You deftly unbuckle it, fast enough that the leather makes a snapping noise when you pull it, and Yoongi bites back a laugh— under normal circumstances you might be embarrassed by how obvious you're being, but you're desperate to finally touch him, especially after he'd made you cum as hard as he had. You look up at him as you reach for his zipper but falter when you notice that he's staring at you with something akin to awe, lifting your lips off his skin.

"What?" You ask, suddenly feeling shy.

Yoongi doesn't respond verbally. Instead, he quirks a little grin at you before he cups your face with both hands and bends down to kiss you again, deeper and slower than he has before. You match his pace, the two of you tilting your heads to get a little closer, but when you continue to pull Yoongi's zip down he laughs against your lips and you smile. He gets the hint, stepping back so he has room to kick his trousers and underwear off; he's not trying to be sensual about it, moving fast so he can get close to you again, but you're enraptured nonetheless.

You swallow at the sight of his cock when it’s finally freed. It's flushed red from neglect, fully hardened, curving up towards his stomach, and you can see how the head glistens with precum, slick and wet. Saliva floods your mouth. Yoongi looks briefly startled when you put your hands against his hips and lightly push him backwards, but then you slide off the bed and onto your knees in front of him and the shock immediately disappears from his face, tangling a hand in your hair as you settle in place.

He's so hard that you don't feel like teasing him. Instead, you take the precum that's gathered at the tip of his cock and rub it down his length, hand wrapping around and twisting as you dip forwards and take the flushed head into your mouth. You can't swallow him all the way down, thanks to your gag reflex, but you give it a damn good go— you relax your throat as much as you can as you lower your head, using your hand to touch the parts of his cock that aren't in your mouth. You tongue at the vein on the underside as you lift back up, using your free hand to cup his balls, and Yoongi curses, his hand tightening in your hair as he pulls you off.

You blink up at him in surprise, mouth still open after he's slid out of your mouth— you feel like you'd barely started— and you can see how his cock twitches as he drinks the sight of you in.

"That mouth of yours is downright sinful," he says, running his thumb over your lower lip. You go lax under his touch, which seems to please him. "As much as I'd like to cum down your throat, I think you want something else instead, don't you, babygirl?"

Your breath shudders out of you and you nod. You want Yoongi's cock inside you, itching for him to finally fuck you stupid, the way you've been yearning for so long. "God, yes, please."

Yoongi's lips twitch at your shameless desperation. "Stand up then, baby," he says, and you comply. "Turn around."

You turn towards the bed to show Yoongi your back, and he slowly unzips your dress; it slides off your shoulders easily, slipping down your body and pooling on the floor as Yoongi drags his hands over the revealed skin. You tremble under his touch, sensitive to each of his motions as he unclasps your bra, and finally you're entirely unclothed, lingerie carelessly tossed to one side before Yoongi pulls you close.

Your back is pressed to his chest, and you can feel the heat and hardness of his cock pressing against you, but you forget about that when his hands move to cup your breasts, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. You tilt your head back against his shoulder and he takes the opportunity to kiss down your neck, using his tongue to lick down the bared length of it, and your breath hitches in your throat as he pinches one of your nipples between his fingers, the perfect mix of careful roughness.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Yoongi breathes into the crook of your neck. You whimper and grind back against him, feeling the wetness of his cock as it slips against your skin, and he bites back a groan.

"Yoongi, I need you," you say, so close to finally getting what you've been craving for so long. "Please," you add, voice high with desperation.

You feel how Yoongi bares his teeth against your skin in a silent snarl before he's turning you around in his arms, and you squeal in surprise as he hitches you upwards onto the bed, your head falling onto the pillows. It wasn't a rough motion, Yoongi still careful even when he's clearly as hungry for you as you are for him, but you find yourself whimpering at how he's manhandled you, loving it. Seems like he's helping you discover things about yourself that you hadn't realised before now.

Yoongi settles between your legs, staring down at you, bare and helpless underneath him. You reach out your hand to touch his chest, sweeping your fingers down the line of his stomach and over the trail of dark hair that leads down to his weeping cock, still shining with your spit. He curses, leaning over you to paw at his nightstand drawer; he fumbles with the lube and condom when you wrap your fingers around his length again, stroking him hard and slow.

"Yoongi, please," you say again, practically begging, wanting him inside you as quickly as possible. He curses under his breath again but then wraps his fingers around yours, pulling your hand off his cock. You pout at him. "I've been a good girl, haven't I?"

"Good girls are patient." Yoongi leans back on his heels and you make a small whining noise, but you quieten when you watch him rip open the condom packet; you reach forward again to help him roll it down his cock, wanting to keep the feeling of his hardness and heat under your touch, but he fixes you with a stern gaze. "Hands."

You pause, wondering exactly what he means. You settle on pulling your hands away and stretch up to let them rest on the pillow above you. You must have done the right thing because Yoongi smiles, and you give a squirm of delight. He shifts closer and hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, turning his head to kiss your inner ankle.

"So perfect," he says, and you squirm again, pleased. He reaches for the bottle of lube and uncaps it with a quiet click, drizzling it directly onto his cock and biting back a noise at the coldness of it— but then he squirts more into his hands, warming it between his fingers. You make a small questioning sound, and Yoongi smiles before kissing your ankle again. "This is for you, baby."

Your eyebrows raise in quiet surprise. You're already so wet, dripping with a mix of your own cum and Yoongi's lingering spit, but he's still being this careful and considerate. He dips his slick fingers between your flushed lips and draws them upwards, making you arch your back as he grazes over your pearl of nerves, pleasure shooting directly into your core. 

"Oh, fuck," you gasp. "God, please, Yoongi, please."

"I've got you, babygirl," he murmurs, and you marvel at his self control, his restraint even now. He grips your leg with one hand and uses the other to guide himself into you. Finally. You moan as he sinks in, stretching you, slowly pushing in inch by inch; you can feel the way your walls stretch, parting for him, until he's bottomed out, and you feel so full.

"Holy shit, Yoongi." You've moved your hands and you're digging your nails into his back, trying to pull him closer even though it's not possible, Yoongi's cock so long that you can feel it filling you completely. "Oh, God."

Yoongi's fringe is hanging in his eyes but you can see how his pupils have almost swallowed the dark of his irises, the way he's drinking in the sight of you beneath him— your pupils are blown too, hair a messy halo against the pillows, nipples hard from arousal, chest heaving as you hiccup in air. He pulls out, just as slowly as he'd pushed in, the drag of his cock against your inner walls sending electricity shooting through your nerves; he stops before he's completely out, only the head of him still inside you, and you bite your lip in anticipation, waiting for the next slow thrust in.

You're completely blindsided when Yoongi snaps his hips forward suddenly, fucking sharply into you, and you choke on a surprised breath. He sets a brutal pace, the sound of his skin slapping against yours almost drowned out by the way you wail. Your hands fall away from his back and to the sheets, fingers gripping at them, twisting under your hands. His brows are drawn together with focus, but when you raise a hand up to touch his face he goes easily, letting your leg slip off his shoulder so he can kiss you.

His motions slow somewhat as you kiss each other, but he keeps the roll of his hips just as deep, and you end up all but panting against his mouth instead of kissing him; he swipes his tongue across your lips and you let them fall open so he can lick into your mouth, sloppy and wet. You can feel an orgasm building again, surprisingly fast— especially as he's not even touching your clit— and you clench around him, wanting to hit that peak again.

Yoongi stops kissing you to rest his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as he slows his thrusts, grinding into you each time he pushes all the way in, hips flush with yours. "Such a good girl." His voice is a low rasp, dark and heavy. "So pretty for me."

Yes, yes, yes. "Wanna be your good girl," you breathe. "Make you feel as good as you make me feel."

Yoongi actually growls, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you up. You grab his shoulders for support, legs spreading so that your knees hit the mattress, his cock still inside you as you look down at him, both of you kneeling now. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, stomachs flush, and Yoongi grinds up into you. His hands slide from your waist, to your ass, fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you up; the change of angle has the curve of his cock dragging right across your sweet spot and you gasp. "Oh, yes, there, just like that."

You press down as Yoongi's hips snap up, and you can feel how his motions are starting to get a little jerkier, staccato, the way he speeds up. With the drag of your nipples against his chest, and the way he's hitting your g-spot dead on each time, you're close to hitting your peak, pleasure riding up into a crescendo— and then Yoongi slides one of his hands between the two of you to rub at your clit and you're gone again, gasping and shaking as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, all the air escaping your lungs in a drawn out, shuddering wail.

"Fuck, baby." Yoongi's motions grow a little more hurried and sloppy, thrusting up into you as your walls pulsate around him. You try to match his pace, drinking down the way his face twists as he chases his own release— and then his grip on you grows tight enough to bruise and he cums with a surprisingly quiet moan. He grinds upwards, his cock twitching inside you as he empties himself into the condom; you shiver at the sensation, squeezing your legs around his hips in an instinctive attempt to draw him as deeply into you as possible, as futile as that is.

Your legs are shaking. You remain tangled around each other, sweaty and panting, but then Yoongi is grasping your chin and tilting your head down so that he can kiss you. It's soft, and gentle, and you melt into it, going lax and boneless in his hold as you tighten your hands in his hair. 

You feel how he smiles tiredly against your lips, and when you pull back, he looks thoroughly fucked out; his hair is a mess from how you've been running your hands through it and lips are kiss swollen, parted so that he can suck air in and try to catch his breath. You must look similarly wrecked. You feel hazy, though Yoongi feels solid beneath you, grounding you as you slowly come back to yourself.

"I'm going to lean you back, beautiful," he says, and you entwine your fingers together behind his neck so that he can tilt you onto the mattress, careful and reverent. He slips his softening cock out of you and you let out a small sigh at the sudden feeling of emptiness, though as soon as he's done tying the condom off and throwing it in the bin he comes back to you, lightly kissing you as he draws a hand gently between the valley of your breasts. Despite the tenderness behind the motion you're suddenly struck with wondering if he's about to ask you to leave, but then he asks: "Do you want to come wash up?"

You pause. "Oh, God, my makeup," you say with sudden realisation as your fingers come up to touch under your eyes. Your eyeshadow and mascara must be a mess by now. You splay your hand across your face, as if trying to hide it— which you know is stupid, especially considering the fact the rest of your body is naked under Yoongi's gaze. He huffs out a laugh and takes your hands with his own, pulling them away. "Nooo," you whine. "Don't look at me."

One of Yoongi's eyebrows rises. "Why would I ever want to look away from you?"

You wriggle. "Yoongi," you whine again, equal parts pleased and embarrassed, but you let your hands go limp and Yoongi pulls you to your feet. "You're shameless."

"And you're gorgeous," he says, simply. "Come on, you'll get cold."

Yoongi lets you clean up first. It's weird how comfortable you are as you navigate your way around Yoongi and Jin's bathroom— you pilfer one of Jin's makeup wipes to clean your face— and how natural it feels to accept the shirt Yoongi gives you, an oversized, stretched-out old thing that's gone soft from years of wear. You're perched on the bathroom counter as you slide it on, glancing down at the design on the front, and you instantly perk up when you see what it is.

"You do love Kumamon," you say with delight. 

Yoongi stops in the middle of brushing his teeth, looking a little ridiculous with the minty froth around his lips but still just as kissable. He rinses his mouth and spits, wiping his lips with a towel before he makes a face at you.

"Jin told you about that, too?"

"I want to see your slippers," you say in reply and Yoongi groans. You can't help but giggle, feeling sleepy and soft and affectionate, and you touch your fingers under Yoongi's chin so that you can press a quick kiss to his lips. "I think it's cute."

By the time you've both finished your ablutions and you slide off the counter, you feel tired, what little energy you had after being fucked by Yoongi completely gone from you; you slide onto Yoongi's bed gratefully, glad to be off your feet. You hold your hands up and beckon for him to join you, but then let out a sharp laugh of surprise when he tugs his rumpled blanket off the bed from underneath you and lets it drop to the floor. "Yoongi!"

"I'll be right back," he says. While you wait, you decide to stretch, eyes slipping shut as you extend your limbs. You know you'll feel the ache between your legs tomorrow, a little thrill skating through you at the knowledge that Yoongi's touch has left a physical reminder, something only you can feel and no one else can see.

When your eyes flutter open again, you see Yoongi standing at the bottom of the bed, a different blanket gathered in his arms. He's staring at you, and you realise that the material of his shirt has moved as you've stretched, hitching up over your hips. Even though you're both tired, Yoongi's eyes still darken when you shift your legs, and you bask under his attention.

"A different blanket?" You ask, curious, and Yoongi's eyes slide away from your still-bare core back up to your face.

"It's Jin's," he says. "I wasn't about to let you sleep on sweaty sex sheets."

"I don't mind," you say, honestly, but Yoongi proceeds to lay Jin's blanket across the bed anyway. "Jin's not going to be happy about this," you add, but you say it with a laugh, instantly curling up into Yoongi when he lays down beside you.

"He'll live." Yoongi's arm comes around you, fingers trailing over your shoulder; you lapse into silence and let your eyes shut, focusing on Yoongi's movements. It feels like he’s pressing piano keys down and playing a silent song against your skin. You can't help but smile, starting to drift off, when Yoongi speaks again. "Let me take you out for breakfast."

"Hm?" Your eyes open and you blink away your sleepiness to look up at Yoongi, who's still watching you. "Breakfast?"

"Yes." Yoongi's fingers still on your shoulder, and then he slides his hand down to tangle your fingers with his. "Or lunch. Or dinner. Whichever you prefer." He pauses. "Unless you don't want to," he says, and though his voice stays steady, you see a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. He's worried that you've gotten what you want and now you'll be done with him.

"You're so silly," you say softly, and you can see how Yoongi's face twists with confusion, unsure about how to react to being called silly— you can't imagine many people have said that to him, as outwardly intimidating as he can be. You squeeze his hand. "Of course I want to. But how about we plan it tomorrow? I don't know how long it's going to take me to be comfortable with walking in a straight line, so breakfast might be off the cards for now."

After a moment, Yoongi's face takes on a satisfied expression. "That's what you said you wanted," he says, and you huff out an amused breath.

"I technically said I wanted you to bend me over a piano, actually," you point out, letting your head settle in the crook of his neck again, and Yoongi brushes his lips against your forehead.

"There's a piano in the living room," he states casually, and you can't help the shiver that runs through you, even as your eyes start to fall shut again.

"I'll keep that in mind."

–

jiminnie y/n!! tae said you called in sick for work? are you okay??

you i'm good! just a lil busy

jiminnie with what?

you [image attached]

jiminnie … why have you sent me a photo of a piano?

you yoongi's gonna fuck me on it omg on that note i've gtg BYE LOVE YOU MINNIE xoxoxo

jiminnie WHAT??? OMG??? GET THAT DICK QUEEN!!!

[louiseleblancdiggory]

Speedy one night stand part 2

Part 1 here

“Ok, so do we go over our story again?”

“We did that a thousand times. Relax, they’re not the brightest.”

Aelin smiled, resting her back against the hospital chair. Even though only one day had passed, Rowan was already feeling infinitely better. His wrist still hurt like a bitch, and it would probably remain like that due to the surgery, but the rest was just some small ache.

Differently from the previous day, this morning Rowan had woken up to an empty room. Aelin had decided to go home around eleven, promising to be back in time for them to go over their plan one more time, but a part of Rowan wondered if she was actually going to be back. It wasn’t a usual situation, and now that she knew he was not dying, maybe she wouldn’t feel any responsibility over him at all.

It had worried Rowan more than he liked to admit.

And yet, she had returned today. Just a few hours after Rowan woke up, Aelin walked into his hospital room. She was her bubbly self, walking through the door while oozing so much excitement and brightness that it was like the sun lodged itself in the room. She plopped down on her usual chair, barely bothering to create small talk before jumping right back to what they had discussed the previous night. Aelin wanted everything to go perfect— had said that she had grown up with a cousin who made her quite competitive when it came to pranks.

Forty five minutes later, they had gone over the details twice, flirted shamelessly every now and then, and Rowan had the pleasure of seeing Aelin play the distressed wife in front of three different doctors.

The woman was a devil.

Rowan couldn’t help but smile.

“When do they get here?”

“You’re so impatient.” Rowan grinned, slowly turning his non-shattered wrist. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re impatient?”

“You and my cousin would be such great friends.” Aelin gave him a sweet smile.

“Sounds like a nice guy, then.”

“He isn’t.” Aelin’s sweet— and oh so fake— smile widened. “A fucking asshole, if you ask me.”

Rowan snorted, looking at the door just in time to see five guys turning around the corner and walking in the direction of the room. A diabolical smile grew on Rowan’s lips, and he turned to Aelin who had a raised brow. “Show time.”

Just like the devil Rowan thought she was, Aelin returned his smile.

———————

Honestly, she shouldn’t be this excited.

Tricking a bunch of men she had never seen in her life should not be that high in her list of priorities. And yet.

Part of her wanted to stay at the hospital yesterday, make sure that Rowan was ok during the night. Even though they had just met, Aelin felt a weird connection to him. Not love— because love at first sight is bullshit—, but she definitely cared for him as a friend. But the doctor insisted that there were no chances that Rowan’s condition would get that bad over night, and so Aelin went home.

She could barely sleep, and in the morning she rushed to get to the hospital.

Because of the prank, of course. Not because of Rowan.

And now that his friends were actually there, that the plan was actually in action, Aelin was having some small doubts.

What if they tell the hospital she’s lying? What if that doctor loses her job? What if—

“Rowan!” A blonde haired man ran through the door, followed by four others. Just like Rowan, all of the men were massive. Tall, muscular, and almost sucking all the air in the room with their presence.

They were all so focused on Rowan that none of them even paid attention to her sitting by a corner in the room, and Aelin used that time to transform the smirk on her lips into a loving smile.

“Fucking shit, Whitethorn.” The tallest of them— the only one as tall as Rowan— said. His pitch black hair was tied back in a bun, but some of it fell out of it when he ran a hand through his head. Aelin tried to remember Rowan’s descriptions of his friends, and if she was right, that was Lorcan. “One day alone and you get hit by a fucking truck.”

“Any cool scars?” One of the golden twins asked, a grin on his face. Either Fenrys or Connall, but judging by the personality and Rowan’s description of the twins, Aelin was betting on the former.

“Shut up.” The one with a buzzcut— Vaughan, she recalled— said, hitting the back of the golden twin’s head. “We tried to come as soon as possible when we heard. We didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“Oh.” Rowan said with all the innocence in the world, a smile as sweet as hers gracing his lips. “Of course I wasn’t alone, are you guys insane or something?”

“Huh?” The twins said in unison, looking at each other.

“I came with my wife.” Rowan said, the sentence sounding like a question. He let out a laugh, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Do you guys think she would just leave me alone?”

“Your fucking what.” Lorcan said very slowly after a few moments of complete silence.

Rowan looked so genuinely confused that even Aelin believed him for a second.

“Guys? Ace?” Rowan said, brows furrowing. His eyes then landed on her, and he gave her a smile that was supposed to be loving, but Aelin just thought he looked like a fiend. “Apparently they think you’re cold enough to enjoy your vacations while your husband is at the hospital.”

“I might not be the warmest, but that would have been low even for me.” Aelin said, voice charred with playful sarcasm. As if she was a magnet, all five heads immediately whipped at her direction, faces showing different levels of incredulity. “Hey, guys.”

Aelin had to bite her cheeks to keep herself from laughing. She didn’t know any human being could be that shocked and stand that still. The silence in the room was suffocating, except for Rowan who was smiling broadly now that no one was looking at him.

“Everyone is seeing the hot blonde, right?” The twin— Fenrys, she’d been right. It was just the type of comment he’d do— asked very carefully.

“I’m flattered, Fen.” Aelin said, taking some pleasure in how his jaw dropped when she said his name. She looked at each of their faces, forcing her expression to show both excitement and some confusion. “Guys? Not even a hug? I mean I know you guys are Rowan’s friends but I would expect some better welcome.”

At that, Aelin got up and walked in their direction. She hugged Vaughan and Fenrys at the same time, both as still as two pieces of stone.

She took a step back, doing the same to Gavriel and Connall. Aelin then looked at Lorcan, winking at him. “I know better than to hug you. Good to know that the change in continents doesn’t change the scowl on your face.”

They all just stared at her.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Rowan was near busting out laughing. She walked to his side, feeling the eyes of his friends following her across the room. She bent down near Rowan, kissing him on the lips before stroking his cheek with a thumb. For a split second, they shared a knowing smile, one that would look very loving to whoever was watching, but both of them knew better.

“I’m gonna go check with your doctor what time we can leave, alright? I’m gonna let you guys catch up.” Aelin said, kissing him again.

Rowan nodded, but then his eyes turned to his friends and narrowed slightly. “Sounds good, honey.”

Vaughan soundly choked.

Aelin made her best impression of being embarrassed— not by the nickname, but by the reactions of his friends.

She left the room with a final smile at the five guys, and when her face was not visible to them anymore, she finally opened the biggest grin she had ever given in her entire life.

As she walked down the hallway looking for the doctor, Rowan almost jumped out of bed just to kiss her again if only for the absolute horror in his friends’ faces. He never thought he’d seen any of them that shaken— even Lorcan was shocked.

Using the fact that all five of them were still looking at Aelin’s body disappearing among doctors, nurses, and other visitors, Rowan controlled his facial expressions and turned them to a disappointed scowl.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked when Aelin completely disappeared. “Would it kill for you guys to be nice to her? It was never an issue, what the fuck happened?”

“Bro.” Connall was the first to tear his eyes away from the door.

“Rowan, I don’t know how to say this gently…” Gavriel started, voice calm and cautious as always.

“You must have hit your head really hard because you’re not fucking married.” Lorcan, on the other hand, had no problem just saying what came to his mind.

“What?” Rowan asked, dumbfounded.

“Man, some hot crazy chick is pretending to be your wife.” Fenrys was smiling, but his whole expression screamed terrified. “Holy fuck, some hot crazy chick is pretending to be Rowan’s wife.”

“Haha, very funny.” Rowan said, relaxing. “Is this why you treated Ace like that? A prank?”

“Her name is Ace.” Vaughan said, the only one still visibly shocked.

“Crazy girl name.” Fenrys added solemnly. Connall nodded profusely.

“Her name is Aelin, and you guys know that. We have been together for over a year not, married for a few months.” Rowan was trying so, so hard not to laugh.

The guys looked at each other, different degrees of worry washing they expressions.

“Rowan, you really have to understand that—“

“Understand what?” Aelin interrupted what Gavriel was saying, causing all of the guys to jump and scream.

At that, Rowan couldn’t contain his laughter. He was laughing so hysterically that not even Aelin managed to keep a straight face and started chuckling too.

“What the fuck was that?” Rowan said between laughs, smiling up at Aelin as she approached his bed even though he was speaking to his friend.

“When is his birthday?” Fenrys ignored Rowan’s question, eyes narrowing at Aelin as she rested against Rowan.

“January twentieth-first.” Aelin said, brows furrowing in confusion. “What the hell is this?”

“Favorite color.” Connall dismissed her question.

“Green.”

“His pet’s name.” Gavriel asked much more politely than the others, but suspicion was palpable in his words.

“We don’t have a pet.”

“What is he studying?” Vaughan finally looked more wary than fucking shocked.

“He’s studying to become an engineer. STEM, then? I don’t know, I’m an arts and humanities major. I don’t understand that shit.”

The guys looked at each other again before Lorcan’s eyes dropped on Aelin. “Mom’s name. Ex girlfriend’s name. Favorite movie. Favorite song. Dick size.”

Rowan choked when he heard the last sentence, but Aelin simply smiled. “Anya. Are you talking about Lyria or Remelle? The Godfather and Patience by the Guns n’ Roses. I will not be discussing my husband’s dick size with his best friend.”

“Holy fuck.” Vaughan breathed.

“Give me your phone.” Lorcan said, even more suspicious now.

Aelin raised a brow, but took the phone out of her pocket. She stole a glance at Rowan, but he was just as confused as her.

“Call the first person in your favorites.”

Oh, fuck.

It had been fun while it lasted, and Rowan was about to get his ass beaten by his friends even though he was still in a hospital bed.

But Aelin simply unlocked her phone for everyone to see, went to her contacts and called the second person in her favorites. She raised her eyes from the phone to smile sweetly at Lorcan. “Rowan is the first.”

Lorcan’s jaw clenched minimally, as if Aelin had just passed a test she was supposed to fail. Now, just like the rest of his friends, Lorcan looked expectantly ate the phone on top of Rowan’s legs. Aelin had put it on speaker, and the only sound in the room was their breathing and the dialing sound.

“Hey, babe.” A female voice answered, soft and warm. “What can I help you with?”

“I don’t know, actually.” Aelin raised her face to Lorcan, and she looked so beautiful that the smile that grew on Rowan’s face was genuine. “Why did I call her?”

“Is she married?” Lorcan asked loudly so the girl on the phone would hear.

“What did he say?” She asked anyways.

“Lorcan asked if I am married.” Aelin raised the phone to her lips so her friend could hear her better.

“Uhm, yeah?” Her friend laughed. “Aren’t you married to his best friend for a few months now? What type of question is this?”

Aelin smiled smugly at his friends, and Rowan made his best impression of pissed off husband. In reality, all he wanted was to be alone with Aelin and kiss her for her geniality.

She wasn’t kidding when she said she was competitive when it came to pranks.

“Hey, what’s up, Lys. Is that Ace?” A man sounded through the phone.

“Yeah.” Lys answered.

“Is Rowan ok?” The man asked casually, and even Rowan was surprised by that.

Turns out Aelin had been a few steps ahead of him.

“I’m fine.” Rowan answered, trying to sound casual. “But apparently my friends decided to be assholes even though I’m already suffering.”

Aelin snorted, resting her back against his chest.

“What are they doing?” The guy asked and Rowan could hear the smile on his voice. Even though the voice tone was completely different, the man sounded so much like Aelin that it could only be her cousin since she didn’t have siblings.

“Pretending they don’t know Ace.”

“I would also pretend I don’t know my cousin if I could. Disgraceful woman.” He grumbled. “She must be loving the attention, though.”

“Fuck off.” Aelin snapped at the same time Rowan laughed. She turned her head to him, eyes narrowing with enough emotion that Rowan knew she was being genuine. He just smiled, giving her a quick kiss before turning to the phone again.

“Me and Lys gotta go, but we’ll see you this weekend for dinner, right?”

“Yep.” Rowan knew nothing of it, but now he was knee deep into his lie so backing out wasn’t an option anymore.

“Oh, and Ace, Lysandra says the airline just sent your ticket back to Terrasen to the apartment.” Aedion announced before hanging up, leaving the comment hanging in the air.

Aelin heard sharp intakes of breath, and raised her head to see all men staring at her dumbfounded.

“What?” She asked innocently, resting once again against Rowan. His hand sneaked up to the back of her head, massaging her scalp. Even though she tried to play it cool, her heart was hammering inside her chest— both because of how big the lie had just become and because of Rowan’s touch against her skin. Her whole back was against his side, and Aelin hoped he thought the racing heart was due to the lie, not due to him.

“Very well, Ace.” Lorcan said after a moment of prolonged silence. “We are so sorry for the prank. Why don’t we all go out to dinner to pay you back.”

Aelin was gonna vomit her heart. All the guys looked at Lorcan, and even Rowan’s hand stilled against her hair.

And yet she just forced a smile on her face, nodding her head. “Sounds amazing.”

Rowan’s hand in the back of her head massaged now her neck, reassuring her everything was ok.

But that definitely wasn’t the sentiment on his friends’ faces.

Oh, fuck.

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A/N: I’m sorry for such a small update for this story, but I’m trying to write some Valentine’s day oneshots but I wanted to continue this one a little! I’ll probably to a final part three for it sometime!

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* tags in bold don’t allow me to tag

[iwasbored777]

First of all, don’t be a coward, we know the only person brave or stupid enough to get Kagami pregnant is Adrian, secondly let’s keep this hilarious headcanon train rolling and go for Juleka and Rose for pregnancy headcanons

This is one of the best asks I ever got, it had me crying! 100/10

But my headcanon is in future (obviously) where Adrien and Marinette are married and already had their own kid but it happened WAY before the rest of their friends - I'm trying to tell you that Kagami would never have a kid with him cuz a) he's with her friend already and b) he knocked up her friend when she was a teenager so Kagami was like "nah this guy can't keep it in his pants and has never heard of protection, I'm not taking any chances". But maybe Kagami had sperm donor or something, maybe that makes more sense cuz I'm pretty sure she's a canon lesbian.

My friend did the Juleka headcanons before he knew you sent an ask about her and it's great:

Now it's time for our adorable girl, Rose:

- Rose also has the donor but it's some guy with a good medical condition and a good family, they don't know him personally but they know the name

- She goes from sweet to crazy all the time. No one knows why or how or when is that going to happen. Mood swings are INSANE with Rose!

- Rose is having triplets and she is panicking cuz it's too much kids but Juleka is super happy

- Uncle Luka is STILL trying to get pregnant women to like his music - apart from his sister - but Rose just smashed his guitar, poor guy can't catch a break. He's not even sad anymore, he's just offended

- In case you were wondering, yes, the baby Marinette and Adrien had is still madly in love with his music (I wonder why sjsksks)

- If you think Luka's music is annoying Rose, IMAGINE what Jagged's music is doing to her. The poor girl is running away every time he starts playing, Juleka told him that he sucks but he can't stop. Rose tried to jump off of the boat one time cuz she couldn't handle it

- Anarka is making fun of Jagged but feels sorry for Luka

- Speaking of boats, morning sickness is THE WORST on boats so Juleka and Rose had to move somewhere where it's calm, they also did it to protect Rose from Jagged's screeching

- Juleka is still worried because Rose was ill as a kid but Rose is telling her she'll be ok. Of course, Juleka is still overprotective of her

- Rose is crying like crazy all the time when mood swings hit her the hardest

- Juleka got her a puppy to play with as a gift before they get their babies - Luka will take care of the puppy once the babies come cuz these two won't have the time for it

- Rose has come up with at least forty possible baby names and she keeps getting more ideas but nothing sounds perfect for her

- You think your life is hard? Imagine being a sunshine flower kid married to a goth chick and you have to make a compromise for your kids' style. Nothing is ever good enough. Rose picks adorable pink dresses while Juleka picks ripped jeans but one thing they can agree on is that it's all cute cuz it's tiny

This is too adorable to write! Thanks, anon!