#and then I made sure I was free every Friday night and it eventually became something I’d watch weekly with my dad

[cross-crye]

•❣•୨୧ f̳i̳r̳s̳t̳ d̳a̳t̳e̳s̳ w̳i̳t̳h̳ t̳h̳e̳m̳ ୨୧•❣•

dazai/chuuya x reader

lowercase intended

a/n: was in a bad place mentaly for a while but im better so take this fic as compensation for my absence

"are you free this friday?"

"yea, why?"

"wanna go on a date?"

"do you actually need to ask? ill be waiting for you to pick me up at 8 o'clock on friday."

"how should i dress?" you ask chuuya over the phone

"don't worry about that, i told you i'd take care of every aspect of this date, that includes attire." he'd answer back, keeping you in the dark as to what he has planned for your date.

you'd be lying if you said that the surprise wasnt making you even giddier and more impatient. daydreaming about your date with chuuya didnt necesarily mean you were any less surprised when hed actually taken you out.

a fancy restaurant was something youd exepected from chuuya, knowing just how rich he is. but what he actually decided to do was way better. dining and drinking the finest of dishes and wines at his apartment while engaging in small talk was a great way to start the night. however a midnight-early morning motorcycle ride around yokohama made your date something unforgettable. driving (more like laying on chuuya with your hands around his waist) underneath the stars while talking about all manners of subjects, regardless of how philosophical or silly it seemed. sharing one last kiss by your door may have been a cliché, but it was a welcome one nontheless.

"how should i dress?" you'd eventually ask dazai, him having not have said anything about your date except the fact that you 2 will 'let loose'

"something comfortable, but also something you wouldn't miss. id hate it if i was the reason your favourite clothes got ruined." vague and cryptic as always, but still an answer. 'perhaps hes planning on taking me paintballing for our first date?' you'd end up wondering, no other questions of yours recieving an answer from dazai.

the fact that he'd instead took you out partying shouldnt have come as much a suprise though. what was surprising hiwever, was the fact that when the music and lights became overwhelming, hed taken you outside and stayed by your side as he made sure youd breathe in the fresh air as the sudden change of pace would calm you down. he was surprisingly caring when needed, remaining outside with you talking about everything and anything while pointing at gthe night sky to dostract you from your growing headache. maybe he wasnt as bad as he seemed.

[storiesofsvu]

Cautious Ch 3

Warnings: Language

Over the next couple of days Olivia found herself actually quite enjoying having another person around the house. She’d always been pretty adamant about not having a roommate, she loved her personal time, her alone time, the time to wind down from being in charge and in go mode all day. You however weren’t overbearing at all, and it wasn’t that you were tiptoeing around, you simply also enjoyed your own space, usually giving each other that quiet wind down time before reuniting for wine and trashy television. She came to find that you truly weren’t a morning person, and you often opted for a late sleep in and dashing quickly to work after she’d already left, leaving her mornings quiet. 

It was the following week when she came home, not surprised to find you there since you’d had the day off, busy moving through the kitchen, a soft playlist echoing through the apartment. At the sound of her dropping her keys you turned to face the door, 

“Hey! Perfect timing, I’m almost done.”

“Done…what?”

“Balsamic goat cheese stuffed chicken with lobster risotto.” You smiled right before your face scrunched, “Oh fuck, you’re not allergic to shellfish are you?” She laughed at the panic in your eyes.

“No.” She moved into the apartment, shucking her coat onto a spare chair, “Can’t say I expected this.” Tugging down a couple of wine glasses and filling them with pinot noir, you shrugged,

“I get antsy when I’ve got nothing to do.” You pulled the chicken from the oven as the timer went off, “I may have also taken the liberty of cleaning out your fridge…Ya know, you can’t survive of Szechuan noodles forever right?” Olivia laughed, taking a sip of wine,

“Yeah well, work tends to make things…chaotic…”

“You don’t have to tell me that.” You began plating up the meal, “I went to Whole Foods, may have spent the day meal prepping. There’s enough in there for you too, feel free to help yourself.”

“Y/N! You really didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m in your space rent free, it’s the least I could do.” You settled in at the island across from her, “‘Sides, there’s nothing better than a home cooked meal, after a rough day.”

“You’re not wrong there.” She gave you a warm smile as you both dug into dinner, she nearly groaned in satisfaction over the food, “This is incredible…you always been this good of a cook?”

“Picked it up from my Mom, she was always insistent on home cooked meals, never having the same thing twice in a week. I’d get bored and start to help her, I think she loved that more than the cooking, kinda became our thing together. I used to go over every Sunday to help her with dinner for the family…” LIv noticed the nostalgic far off look in your eyes, 

“What happened?” She asked softly, you sighed, stabbing at a piece of chicken.

“Cervical cancer…happened so fast we barely got to say goodbye…”

“I’m sorry.” Her hand reached out to give your free one a quick squeeze.

“Thanks.” You hummed over a gulp of wine, “It was five years ago, but now I basically never see my family. I tried to keep the whole Sunday dinner thing going but no one was having it.”

“Shame, they’re missing out on some incredible food.”

“Yeah well…turns out I found my new family at SVU…” You gave her a gentle smile that she returned, knowing that you’d fit in with the squad with complete ease, finding your place amongst them faster than any of her previous detectives.

The rest of the night was spent as you usually did, relaxed on the couch, though thanks to it being Friday you indulged in probably too much wine, and Olivia encouraged you to pick the entertainment this time. You’d eventually settled on the Scream franchise, shocked that she hadn’t seen any of them yet, you made it through the original three before realizing it was probably the responsible decision to head to bed. She made sure to remind you that she’d take care of any of the dishes, you’d not only cooked tonight but made meals for the entire week, it was only fair.

After that night Olivia realized how comfortable she was with you in her usual private space, you always had this knack to know exactly when she needed space, and when she needed a friend. Your meals were absolutely delicious and she was beyond thankful to not have to eat her millionth take out of the week anymore. She started taking the time to grocery shop alongside you, unable to not laugh at the way you would hum and haw over certain products, unable to decide which one was deemed the best. You alternated on who paid the bill, and she was always more than willing to clean around the kitchen after you were finished, no matter how much of a mess you had made. 

Sundays slowly became a day to make sure you always ate together, sometimes with a few other people from the squad over, her little way of bringing the Sunday family dinner back into your life. You were more than appreciative of the way Liv was accepting into your lifestyle, the way she’d taken you in at a time where you were at your absolute most broken and constantly made sure that you were doing okay, that she was doing everything she could to make sure you were happy. You both enjoyed each others company, you shared many similar interests, and started to slip from just detective and captain to actual friends, good friends who were more than thankful for the change in your lives despite the situation that had brought you together.

[senorablack]

I Gotta Know How It Feels (088 School)

Words: 1118 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes Additional Tags: Humor, Fluff, Alternate Universe - College/University, Halloween Series: Part 12 of Big Ass Rickyl Table Summary: Daryl’s back from the bar, needs sleep and the S.O.B. singing at his door needs to shut the hell up. Halloween/College AU.

It’s like a nail caught in a bike tire—ppttssssssssssssss. Like a faulty shower head. Plip. Plop. Plop. It’s all those types of fuckin’ sounds in one, really, and it seems much louder and annoying than anything else ‘cause he knows it’d just carry the hell on if someone don’t ever see to it.

Daryl ain’t feeling particularly ambitious right now, but like most nights in this undergrad-infested apartment complex, he’s annoyed. Almost to the point of violence. Usually it doesn’t get there, he means, but is no stranger to confrontation. Threatening his dumb-ass neighbors who are too good natured and stoned to take him seriously has became something of routine for him.

“Knock it off or I’ll knock out your teeth.” Daryl’d yell out his screen door.

Then, eventually, the noise will subside.

But not before someone shouts back, “you got it, old man.” 

Which he’ll never stop getting huffy over.  He’s in grad school, not a long-term care facility.

Anyway, tonight’s not worth the effort, because it’s Halloween. He made a quick night of it all. Was at the bar he frequents every Friday by ten, had some beers, took a few shots and played a set of pool with some friends, but was back and standing upright enough to unlock his door by twelve-thirty. He was whiskey warm, a little hungry, but most he was just tired.

But now, it’s nearing the 1:00AM mark and there’s still music playing from every flat. When he’d ambled up to his door, there was still paper mache streamers and ghost hung up, but all the pumpkins lit up in the court yard before he left had burnt out. For every seven count of lost and minimally dressed freshman looking for free alcohol and half quality reggie, there were 3 wandering juniors with bullshit pun costumes that were tricking on seniors with sexualized versions of regular ass uniforms—like the “Sexy USPS Courier” he’d seen eating a cold cut out their mail satchel—and treating on their own 750ml of lighter fluid and orange juice that they swear is a creeper bro.

And as you can imagine, it smelled great out there. Like sweaty sex he ain’t having, food that’s either cooking, burnt or expelled, and liquor. Lots of it. All of them. Some he’s not sure is legal in this state.

And it’s all wafted up into his cell block window.

But he cannot, forgive the fuck out of him, forget the hell hymn of the poor-pining S.O.B. outside his apartment door that has also been filtering in, making itself comfortable like an unwanted houseguest that helps themselves to your leftovers.

He’s sounds right up against the door now.

“Whoaaaaaaaaaaa,” the guy croaks. His voice cracks. He coughs some. Then he starts up again with a few hiccoughs.

“Will you walk—hic—with me down—hic—on the wiii—hic—wireeeee, ‘cause baby I’m a scared—hic—and—hic—lonely rider, but I gotta know how it feeeeeeels!”

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

Ok I just gotta say something here my friends found my tumblr by literally looking up a few of my interests with the word tumblr. Triangulated my location

[ericspinkhair]

dirty thoughts from a distance

pairing: dom!changmin x virgin!reader, best friends to lovers, college au!

synopsis: you masturbate while thinking of your best friend and he catches you moan out his name

word count: 3.8k

warnings: maybe slight angst, (getting caught) masturbating, mutual masturbation, sex in general ig

a/n: y'all are crazyy! it has barely been 19 days and I have already hit 100 followers🤧 thank you guys so much for your support and sending in requests!!! everytime I see leave me nice messages I feel so encouraged to keep on writing even though there is still a lot of room to improve and I am not always completely satisfied with what I create. I wish all of you a great day and hope that you stay happy and healthy!!

this chapter is especially dedicated to @bangcrispychannie​ and anon who requested this kind of scenario ❤️

masterlist + requests

for three years you wondered why you hadn't lost your virginity yet. it's not like you didn't have enough opportunities since you had been in two relationships so far, both lasted about five to seven months.

the feelings in your first relationship were been mostly one-sided however.

when a guy in your biology class named Minho confessed his crush for you, you thought that the only logical next step was to become a couple. you were quite flattered that he had taken such an interest in you and believed and hoped you would eventually develop feelings for him as well. the problem was you didn't. after not being able to be emotionally let alone physically intimate with him for a few months into your relationship, he finally confronted you and you confessed that you just couldn't bring yourself to see him that way. your relationship came to an end just before becoming a senior in high school.

in your last year, you got close with Seonghwa. you were seat neighbors in your english class and you'd chat all the time. he was perfectly sweet, smart and funny and you instantly got along just fine. you developed an interest in him and he seemed to feel the same way. he asked you out with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and some chocolate and you agreed to being his girlfriend without much thought. you caught yourself falling in love with this boy and didn't shy away from physical affection such as kissing and holding hands. you were convinced you were ready to give yourself to him during prom night but when it came to it you chickened out. a couple of hours before, you had found out that your best friend changmin had broken up with his girlfriend of six months.

for a long time you hadn't been able to decipher why you hadn't slept with Seonghwa then. as time passed, the unpleasant answer became clearer and clearer: you had brought up your hopes.

you had been best friends with changmin basically since you started elementary school. on the first day, he scared you with a stupid horror mask he had sneaked in from home and made you cry. he felt so guilty and was determined to make it up to you and to become friends. you had been inseparable ever since.

when he got his first girlfriend in junior year you were devastated. you convinced yourself that the reason for that was that you had been scared he was going to replace you as his best friend but in reality you had felt jealousy.

you were suppressing your feelings because if you confessed, things might become awkward. there was no way changmin could ever like you the same way.

all of this became more difficult as you moved in together for college. you were sharing an apartment now and every day, it became harder to avoid your growing and troublesome feelings. your heart would beat faster whenever he walked around shirtless (which was most of the time) and you decided to try to ignore him. this was especially difficult since you wanted to appreciate his physique. when had he become this handsome? changmin had been dancing all his life so he had always been fit but now that he was majoring in it and training most of the time, his body had developed and he had become super toned and his abs were more prominent.

he'd often make his way into your dreams and you'd let him do inappropriate things with you. you'd wake up wet and needy and even more confused. you were ashamed of seeing him this way. this was not how one normally thought about their best friend.

it was a wednesday morning and you were eating breakfast when changmin joined you in the kitchen. he flashed you a big smile, making his pretty dimples appear which you didn't see as you did not look at him.

'good morning, y/n!' he greeted you in a good mood. you just grunted in response, intensely staring at the cereal swimming in your bowl.

the fact that you couldn't even spare him a glance hurt changmin but he tried to not let it show. he wanted to get you to talk to him.

'do you want to watch a movie and play some board games today after class?' he proposed. you hadn't spent a lot of time together ever since you had become aware of your feelings.

'I have an essay due tomorrow,' you quickly made up as an excuse. the corners of changmin's mouth twitched but you didn't notice as you were too preoccupied with doing anything that didn't include looking at him.

'then maybe on the weekend. or next-' 'I'll be busy,' you interjected. 'I have lots to do.' you stressed the lots to emphasize there was absolutely no way you would be able to hang out with him any time soon.

'umm… okay. I'll be going to class.' he told you dejected. your heart sank but you didn't respond. he was wondering whether he had done anything to make you upset but he couldn't wrap his mind around it. this had been going on for a while and he was starting to become desperate.

when you first got the apartment you spent every free minute of the day together, happy that you finally moved out and could be with each other 24/7, but then you stopped talking to him completely out of nowhere. from one day to the other, you would avoid leaving your room when he was outside and barely talked to him anymore. at first, changmin thought you were just stressed and that you'd eventually warm up again when exam season came to an end but a few months had passed and, if anything, the situation was even worse than before.

you were watching the time and after ten minutes you decided to leave for classes as well. you had started doing this so you couldn't possibly catch up to him and risk having a conversation.

'hey, y/n, what's up!' your friend chanhee hugged you when you arrived on campus. you were both majoring in fashion design and were getting along on well since the beginning of the first semester.

you sighed exasperatedly. 'changmin's up.' you puffed your cheeks and pouted. chanhee nodded knowingly. he was the only person who was aware of your little secret and that was only because you had accidentally drunk confessed the whole story to him at your first college party.

'you know maybe you should tell him. this whole thing is clearly not making you happy and I saw changmin walk by a few minutes ago. if I had to guess I'd say he was in an even worse mood than you. someone accidentally ran into him and he pushed them hard and called them names. it's not like him to overreact like this. he's usually super collected. I think you finally managed to break his spirit,' chanhee reported to you.

this had never been what you intended. why did everything have to be so difficult? you didn't want to be the cause of your best friend's unhappiness.

'he must feel like I despise him. but I cannot confess to him, that would be the end of our friendship!' you were constantly torn apart by this dilemma.

'well, if you're not gonna act on your feelings, maybe try to move on? find something casual or serious with someone new? then you'd forget all about changmin and you'd be able to go back to acting normal around him' he suggested.

chanhee's advice didn't sound too bad. if you couldn't get with changmin then you had to de-crush yourself and find somebody different to focus your emotional energy on. but on who?

'is there anyone you could think of?' you ask chanhee. he had great taste in practically everything so you highly valued his opinion.

'hmm, you could potentially try younghoon hyung? I've seen him eyeing you for weeks now and he even told me thinks your gorgeous.' he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

younghoon was a pretty art student, whom chanhee knew from high school. you didn't talk to him often, mostly at parties and he wasn't exactly your type but you tried to remember shouldn't judge him by his first impression when you haven't even got to know him.

chanhee pulled out his phone and soon you felt yours vibrate in your back pocket. you looked at him questioningly.

'I sent you his number in case you're interested,' he explained proudly. he put his hand on your shoulder and you could see the concern in his eyes. 'you really need to get over changmin if don't want to confess,' he insisted firmly.

so you decided to text younghoon during class. he was very polite and you thought he was cute as he seemed excited to talk to you. you agreed to hang out sometime to get to know each other and decided to meet up friday for dinner.

after the end of your classes, you walked home to warm up yesterday's leftovers. to your dismay, changmin had also decided to come home for once. since you began acting all weird and refused to eat with him, he usually spent lunch time with his dance mates as they had practice after anyway. why had he decided to come here today? your question was answered when he ran up to you, smiling from ear to ear and you noticed he was hiding something behind his back.

'you know how there is a blackpink concert downtown on friday? guess what!' he held up two tickets. surely you would at least agree to spend time with him if it meant being able to see your favorite group, right?

he must have gone through so much trouble to get tickets for you and since blackpink were your favorite music artists you were actually contemplating on going but then you remembered you had made plans.

'I can't. I'm going out with younghoon friday night.'

'kim younghoon?' he raised an eyebrow skeptically.

'why would you to be spending time together? I didn't know he was even talking to you,' he questioned you. anger was boiling inside of you.

'maybe it's because you don't know everything about me,' you snapped at him. you were aware that you were being harsh but somehow his words hurt you. why did he doubt you? did he think you weren't able to get with someone as awesome and popular as younghoon? did he not consider you pretty enough?

the microwave beeped, indicating your food was ready, making you snap out of your thoughts.

'y/n, I swear, that's not what I meant.' he stepped directly in front of you so you were forced to look at him. you stared deep into his pleading eyes as you closed the microwave door, turned your back to him, stomped to your room and slammed the door shut, leaving changmin behind in the kitchen.

your whole body was tense as you listened closely to any sounds coming from outside and felt relieved when you heard the front door close. feeling sad and depressed always made you feel tired so you decided to take a nap to forget about all the negative feelings.

when you woke up you were horny af. you had a dream about changmin taking you on the kitchen counter and now your panties were completely soaked with your arousal.

desperate, you pulled them down and tossed them somewhere to the side. it didn't matter. you needed relief now.

you closed your eyes as you slowly started rubbing your clit, imagining it was changmin's slender fingers touching you instead. your imagination was running wild and you sped up the tempo.

eventually, you plunged your middle finger and then your index finger inside you, pretending that changmin was stretching your walls with his cock.

you moaned loudly and picked up the pace, chasing your high. oh, how much you wished he was the one making you come.

'yes?' you opened your eyes and gasped loudly as you saw changmin watching you from the doorway. you hecticly pulled up your blankets to your chest to cover your naked lower body. for how fucking long had he been standing there?

'oh fuck, changmin...' you cursed out loud.

to your surpise he laughed. 'oh, is this why you have been so distant? were you embarrassed about imagining doing dirty things with me?' your cheeks were burning red and you were unable to move a muscle.

'you know, if you had told me you were thinking of me while doing it then I could've helped you out already. that would have spared both of us a lot of frustration.' he stepped into the room and pulled the sheets away, his hungry eyes fixed on your desperately dripping pussy. you tried to hide it with your hands.

'n-no… what are you saying? aren't we best friends? ' you couldn't comprehend what was happening right now. the way he was acting was so unexpected that you didn't know how to react or what to say. he brushed his hand over your burning cheeks. his eyes were conveying disparity.

'but what if I told you I don't care? that I like you? that I see you as more than just my best friend?'

'wait, you like me?' you couldn't believe your ears. was he actually reciprocating your feelings?

he groaned in exasperation. 'y/n, why did you think I ended things with my ex out of the blue?' you shrugged your shoulders as you weren't sure. you had thought it was because she had lost interest in him, at least that's what changmin had told you back then.

'because I realized I was in love you, you dumbass. how could I be together with someone if I had feelings for someone else?'

'I actually ruined my chances of having sex with seonghwa for the first time for the same reason. it was just after I had found out about the breakup,' you confessed, relieved that you were finally beginning to make sense of everything.

he climbed onto the mattress and positioned his knees next to your closed legs, leaning his hands on the wall behind you so that he was hovering above you.

'I'm sorry that you lost that opportunity. let me make it up to you,' he whispered with his face mere inches from yours and then kissed you. losing all self-restraint, you immediately pulled his body closer so that he was straddling you. after all these months filled with sexual frustration and just frustration in general, you were desperate for his touch. your hands wandered under his dance shirt and you were finally able to touch those abs you had been secretly admiring for so long.

you broke the kiss to take off both of your shirts and changmin skillfully unclasped your bra.

while his tongue was exploring the insides of your mouth, his hands were kneading your breasts, occasionally rubbing and pinching your hardened nipples. you felt his hard dick press against your lower abdomen as he grinded himself into you to get friction.

after having dreamt about this moment for so long, you felt impatient. this was too good to be true and you were scared that if you didn't act quick, your bubble would bust.

without thinking twice about it, you pulled down the hem of his sweatpants and boxers just far enough so you could easily reach inside and whip out his dick. you stopped for a moment to admire his length. it looked even better than you had ever imagined in any of your wildest dreams.

he sat upright, leaning on the wall behind you, while you stroked his cock. he was sensitive to your touch and not shy to show you how well you were doing by responding with moans.

'fuck, y/n. you're doing amazing.' his praise made you eager to show him just how good you could make him feel. your lack of experience was barely noticeable as the adrenaline flowing through your veins was guiding you.

you tapped his thighs to signalize him to inch closer. that way your mouth had easier access to his dick. you hesitantly licked up his length and were fascinated by how he tasted. wanting to have more of it, you swirl your tongue around his pink tip. changmin eventually became impatient and forced more of his dick inside your mouth so you tried to take as much of him as you could but your gag reflex made it difficult for you. instead, you worked your hands where your mouth couldn't do its job.

not wanting you to feel neglected, changmin reached behind him to stimulate your clit. he skillfully started rubbing all the right places and you moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock.

he couldn't take this stimulation for much longer before he had to force himself to pull out of your mouth.

'wow, you almost made me come there.' he panted heavily. 'but I want to be inside you first.' you got lost in his touch as he placed a long kiss on your lips but a sudden thought brought you back to reality.

'wait, I don't have a condom,' you informed him embarrassed. you hadn't planned to lose your virginity any time soon so you hadn't bought any. did that mean the end of this wonderful dream?

but changmin laughed light heartedly. 'no need to worry. hold up, let me get some from my room.' you relaxed again as he disappeared and came back shortly with a condom wrapper in his hand.

you were prepared for him to start right away and took a deep breath in preparation but he didn't do anything.

'I don't think it's a good idea to start yet since I haven't even prepared you. the last thing I would want to do is hurt you so just lay back.'

he positioned your legs over his shoulders so your hips were hovering in the air. you felt his warm breath against your vagina before he drove his tongue inside you, seeing for himself how wet he had made you and tasting your arousal. you clasped your hands over your mouth to stop yourself from releasing any sounds.

'don't do that. I want to hear how good I make you feel,' changmin complained.

when he slid two fingers inside you, you couldn't hold it in anymore and let out some kind of aroused squeal. you felt self-conscious but it seemed like changmin was only more eager to please you.

at the same time, his tongue was abusing your swollen clit and it was impossible for you to hold back the curses that were spilling out of your mouth. the pleasure he was making you feel was a whole different sensation from anything else you've experienced before.

'more please, changmin!' you begged. you wanted more. you needed more. you needed him.

he carefully lowered your hips back down. 'are you sure you want this?' he asked you, waiting for you to clearly consent to having sex with him.

'I want you. you, and only you,' you reassured him and brought his face closer to kiss him. changmin's typical bright smile formed and you felt the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

he positioned himself at your entrance, swiping his dick between your folds like a credit card to coat it with your juices.

you gripped his arms tightly as he pushed in. he slowly continued until all of him was buried deep inside you before stopping. the feeling of a whole penis inside of you was very different from your or changmin's fingers. it filled you up to the brim and was rubbing all the good spots. while it initially caused you a bit of discomfort, it wasn't overwhelming and it also felt good in a weird way.

when your walls finished adjusting to his length, he began to steadily move his dick in and out.

changmin intensely studied your face. he couldn't believe that after all those years you were finally close to being his. he wanted to savor every single expression you made while he was inside you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso, trying to push him deeper. he slammed his cock back inside you.

'you are mine,' he declared and started going harder and faster.

'I am yours,' you confirmed and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

because of the extensive foreplay and your own masturbation prior to this, it didn't take long until your walls were tightening around his dick and you felt an orgasm approaching.

driven wild by you clenching around his cock, he thrusted into you even faster. you rested your sweaty foreheads against each other as both of you almost came simultaneously.

changmin kissed the top of your head before he pulled out and threw away the used condom. you opened your arms and he let himself fall right into your embrace.

'I know this might be kind of weird to talk about right now but do you want to be my girlfriend?' Changmin asked you. he still wasn't too sure what all of this meant for your relationship and he desperately needed to know where your mind was at.

'after having liked you for all this time I'd be an idiot to say no.' 'you're an idiot anyway,' he teased. you slapped his arm.

'hey! I'm not the one who ignored you for a couple of months because my hormones are out of control.' you hid your face in the crook of his neck, too embarrassed face him.

'I'm really sorry for that. you just mean so much to me and I didn't want my feelings to get in the way of our friendship.' he stroked your hair.

'I do understand that. if I hadn't heard you moan my name today I wouldn't have acted on my feelings either. but all is good now, right?' 'right.' you smiled and placed a small kiss below his ear.

'there is still one thing you need to do,' changmin tried to remind you. you looked at him, puzzled.

'what do you mean?' 'younghoon,' he hinted. you immediately started looking for your phone. that date was definitely going to have to be cancelled. there was no need for you to find a distraction anymore since you had been granted your wish after all.

[heyitsperfect]

Ride me - Herman Kozik

Warnings: smut, language, a bit fluff 

A/N: I have no clue about riding a bike, so please excuse any mistakes there and I totally suck at writing smut. But still, I hope you like it.

Request by anon: What about a Kozik x fem reader where she wants to learn to ride a Harley - and she takes to it really well, and the site of her on a harley does things to him and then there is smut?

A man on a bike turns you on. Period. So no surprise you are dating a biker and damn he turned you on in more than one way. Kozik was everything you ever dreamed of. Good looking handsome muscular men. It didn’t bother you what he did for a living or that he was a member of a MC. The first time you saw him, you had to have him. Luckily he thought the same and was quick to ask you out on a date. 

Your first date was spent on the back of his bike. He took you out for a picnic to some foreign place outside of Charming. It was a beautiful place and became your go-to place if you ever needed some space. You had your first kiss with him and your first time with him out there. He taught you a lot of things. How to take care of your car, because you knew nothing about mechanics. He taught you how to fight. More like he asked Happy and Tig was your “victim”. Much to Kozik's pleasure. 

But the one thing you wanted him to teach you, well, let’s say, you never brought it up to him. You were a bit scared of his reaction. Most of the guys like to have their girl clinging onto their back like a koala bear, but you wanted to ride by yourself. Sure you loved it when you were sitting behind Kozik. It was Friday night when you let it slip you wanted him to teach you. Eventually he agreed on teaching you. 

The next day you drove out to your favourite place. It was quiet and nobody would disturb you out there. Kozik explained everything to you. After what felt like an eternity the real fun was about to begin.

“Okay, get on the bike and I’ll get on behind you.” he said and he was nervous. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you said while getting comfortable.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” he looked at you with pleading eyes. You know how much his bike meant to him, so of course you were being extra careful. 

“Of course. I know you love your bike more than me and it’s okay. Now come on or it will be dark, before I’ve driven a single meter on my own.” Kozik got on the bike behind you. 

He instructed you to put your feet up on the footrest and your hands on the bars. He kicked the stand back and started the engine. Slowly, really slowly the bike started to roll. Kozik told you exactly what to do and you were becoming good at it. With every meter the bike rolled you got more and more confident. 

After an hour or two Kozik thought it was a good idea to get off the bike and let you drive alone. You were scared now. There was no one to prevent you from doing something wrong, but Herman trusted you. You made your rounds, one after another, smiling like an idiot. Kozik's face mirrored yours. He had the biggest smile on his lips.

Now he finally understood why him riding his bike was turning you on. He was getting hard at the sight in front of him. You stopped right next to him, kicked the stand down and shut down the engine. You looked up at him and saw him looking at you with those hungry eyes. you swung your leg over the bike, so you were sitting sideways on the bike and Herman was standing between your legs. 

“So now you finally know what you riding a bike makes me feel.” you smirked at him. He placed his hands on your bare arms and ran them up and down, like warming you up. 

“You have no idea how hot and stunning you look babe.” he stepped closer and kissed you. A kiss full of lust and need. Your hands flew to his belt, opening it and pulling it down far enough to free his already hard member. Kozik broke the kiss as you pumped him a few times in your hand, moaning out your name. Such a sweet melody to your ears. You took him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length, your hand pumping the part that doesn’t fit your mouth. Koziks hand flew to your head guiding your movements. 

“Fuck, babe, stop or I’ll cum.” you pulled yourself off him. In a quick movement Kozik lifted you up and sat himself down on his bike so you were straddling him. He pulled your shirt over your head and pulled the cups of your bra down. He attacked your nipple with his mouth, biting, licking, swirling his tongue around while his hand took care of the other side. Your moans were getting louder and louder.

“Kozzy, I need you, inside me, now.” You stood back up and got rid of your shoes, jeans and underwear and climbed back onto your boyfriends lap. You didn’t need anymore foreplay, you were already wet enough and couldn’t wait to have him inside of you. Kozik was biting down your neck, marking you for everyone to see who you belonged to. 

You lined his cock up with your entrance and slowly sunk down on it. You started riding him like it would be the last time. Kozik hands were gripping your ass, slapping it from time to time, making you cry out in pleasure. He knew exactly what brought you the most pleasure. Your hands were nailed on his shoulders giving you the perfect halt. 

At some point Kozik took over and slammed up into your pussy. Your release was building up fast. He moved his hand away from your ass to your clit, making figure eights on it, making your head spin and the coil in your belly snap. You crashed your lips against his as your orgasm took over you.  Your wall clenching around his dick and the fact that you were having a quick fucking session on his bike brought Kozik his own release. Both of you were moaning and panting messes. 

After a while your breaths came back to normal and you looked at him with hazy eyes. 

“Fuck, if this is what I get everytime I let you ride my bike, I’ll get you one for yourself.” He chuckled. 

“Nah, I like it more when you drive and I can hold onto you.” you raked your hand through his hair and caressed his neck as you kissed him a final time before you got off of him to get dressed again. Kozik pulled his pants back up and got on his bike. 

“Now hop on. I wanna continue this at home and treat you like the real badass you are.” he showed you his million dollar smile and got on the back of his bike and drove off to an eventful night ahead of you.  

[hermannsthumb]

possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

[bxngchxn]

strawberries and red wine || l. minho (lee know)

this is a fic that I have re-uploaded from my old blog, @ethereal-bang . I’ll be reuploading all of my old works here and deleting my old blog soon. hope you enjoy!

characters: minho x fem reader

wc: 4.8k

genre: SMUT, dilf!minho, some fluff

warnings: slight hard dom themes, unprotected sex (always wear a condom!), oral (male receiving)

THE FIRST OF THE DILF!SKZ SERIES IS FINALLY HERE!!

This contains mature content and is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.

    　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻��　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

“No, Mina what did I tell you we do NOT pull people’s hai- wait, BENJAMIN, where did you get that frog from?!? Let it go!!” You scramble around the classroom as you try and control the chaos that is your 4s classroom. Being the lead teacher in a room full of toddlers is nowhere near easy, but you’ve always had an affinity for kids. It started out with babysitting your cousins on the weekends, then volunteering as a counselor at summer camp. Eventually it led to you, taking early education classes in college and graduating with a degree in Early Childhood Education. Now, you find yourself here, making sure these kids keep the sand IN the sand box, for the third time this week.

No matter how frustrated you got, though, you could never get genuinely angry. They’re just babies, after all. They have no real concept of right and wrong (or object permanence for that matter), therefore their decision making skills are ~slightly~ off. Plus, they look so cute with their innocent, bright smiles and big eyes. How could you not love them?

The day is just about over, and you’re trying to get everything as clean as possible before the kids leave, that way you don’t have to stay too late to finish it all. It’s Friday, and the thought of going home to your quiet apartment for some much needed me time is all you’re thinking about as you wipe down the snack table. You survey the other children to make sure no one is causing trouble, and you smile as you take in the sight of everyone (finally) sitting in their assigned seats, various hobbies distracting them as they wait for their parents to arrive.

You hear a slight crash, and a teeny tiny voice accompany it.

“Shit!”

That single word, coming from such a small mouth catches you off guard. You want to laugh– but you know better than to encourage it. Shocked expression on your face, you walk over to the table where the two girls are playing Jenga. The tower has been knocked down, and you can only assume that the expletive was said by the loser of the game. A sweet little girl, brown hair almost nearing her waist and big eyes that still held stars in them, was looking up at you in confusion. “Now sweetie, where did you learn that word from?” You ask incredulously.

The way she was looking at you screamed innocence, her smile never faltering. “From my daddy! He said it when he dropped the casserole on the ground the other night. But it’s okay! He ordered us a pizza instead!” She says and you can’t help but giggle, while simultaneously making a note to speak to the girl’s father. Kids tend to overshare way too much, and it reminds you of all the crazy things you’ve heard over the years– those poor parents.

Before you know it, the day has ended and it’s time to walk the children outside. Calling your students to form a line at the door, you double check for backpacks and blankies and stuffed animals. Once everyone (and everything) is settled, you lead the children outside to their parents who are standing with open arms, ready to have their babies back with them for the night. The sight is always so endearing, the little ones getting overly excited and jumping into their parents’ arms.

 As you watch everyone begin to leave, you notice a certain brunette toddler waddling up to her father, who scoops her up into his arms and immediately puts her on his shoulders.

She looks like him, the way that his eyes seem to shine reminiscent of the sparkle you get to see in hers every morning. He’s rocking her back and forth as she’s sat atop him, her giggles ringing out through the daycare’s playground and bringing a sense of calm and happiness to the air. Making your way over to the two of them, your breath catches in your throat when you realize the height difference between the two of you. He’s at least a head taller than you, making you feel small as you get his attention. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lee? Would it be okay if I had a word with you for just a moment?” You ask him quietly.

He looks at you, and you can feel your heartbeat skip when a small smile graces his lips. Taking his daughter off of his shoulders, he ushers her over toward another parent, and the child runs off with Kim Seungmin and his daughter, with promises of ice cream from the truck down the road. “Absolutely, is everything okay Ms….?” He says, realizing (embarrassingly) that he’s never gotten your name. “Y/N! My name is Y/N.” You say with a smile, and he nods, wanting to commit your name to memory.

Minho has seen you day in and day out, greeting the kids in the morning at drop off, and bringing them outside to release to their parents. He’s spoken to you maybe once? Maybe twice? He really wasn’t sure, but something about your soft smile and the way you take care of the children is hitting him differently today. He has a mix of curiosity and slight panic running through his system, afraid his daughter had gotten into big trouble. She’s his whole world, and although raising her on his own definitely isn’t easy, it’s just as equally rewarding. She’s just like him, her personality so big and so funny for someone so little.

“Everything is okay! I just wanted to tell you, your daughter did something today…” you started, and you can see the look in his eyes shift from panic to humor as you explain the situation from earlier today. He chuckles a little once you finish speaking, and you’re laughing too. “Ah, oh my goodness I am so sorry…” he trails off. “It’s alright, Mr. Lee, dont wo-” “Minho,” he cuts you off. “You can call me Minho,” he says, and you nod your head in agreement. “It’s okay, Minho. It actually was pretty funny..just be a little more careful around her, okay?” You giggle, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks blush pink.

After that, talking to Minho when he came to pick up his daughter became a daily occurrence. It was never for long, maybe two or three minutes of conversation at a time, but it was something you looked forward to. He seemed so carefree, always coming in with a smile on his face. Each day his little girl runs to him and demands to be put on his shoulders, and he always obliges.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t form some type of crush on the man in question. You would find yourself hiding your smile after every little interaction, and you weren’t sure how to feel about the fact that you fell for him so easily. It had been a long time since you had decided to focus on your love life, so every time you get those butterflies in your chest you’re unsure of how to react.

Minho, on the other hand, is absolutely smitten. He never took this kind of interest in his daughter’s teachers before. He couldn’t explain it, but the feeling he gets when he witnesses his little girl run up to hug you in the mornings as you head to class fills him with a lighthearted emotion. Plus, the more he spoke to you, the more he came to find out that the two of you are fairly similar. He knew that he needed to take you out on a date. It was the only thing he could think about.

Would it be inappropriate? Absolutely. For as long as you were her teacher, there was no way he’d be able to openly express his feelings. So, he waits. He keeps his feelings at bay for the remainder of the year, waiting for summer to come so he can ask you out on an actual date. And when he does, it’s in the most unexpected way possible.

You see, Minho had a plan. Your birthday was coming up soon, and he was going to get you a small gift and a card with some cheesy pick up line, asking you to do him the honor of going to dinner with him. His daughter, however, has a (very unfiltered) mind of her own.

The summer months were in full swing, the heat and humidity taking over the town as people rode their bikes through the streets, and everyone who drove a car with their windows down, music playing at full volume. It was one of your favorite things about summer, you loved seeing everyone enjoying themselves, alongside the nostalgic feeling of freedom that comes with the warmer weather. This is why you decide one Saturday morning to get up early and head to the Farmer’s Market. The big, open air market held fond memories from your childhood, and going there to shop for your groceries became a stress reliever for you ever since you started college. The older women selling produce were the sweetest, always giving you free samples when you came round.

Today was one of those days, the smells of spices and different street foods filling your noose as you looked at some apples at a produce stand. You pick up what seems like the perfect apple. Round, shiny, no bruises anywhere. That is, until you feel a little someone bump into your legs.

The apple falls to the ground when you’re knocked over, and you hear a small, familiar voice give you an apology. It’s almost a shock when you hear Minho’s voice, too, as you turn around. “Oh my god, miss, I am so…Y/N?” He apologizes, stopping in his tracks when he realizes that it’s you who is standing in front of the two of them. “Oh! Minho, hello! And hi there sweetheart! It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me,” you say in a small voice, dropping down to her level so you can meet her eyes. “But I made you drop your apple! I’m really sorry,” she pouts, and your heart absolutely melts at the sweetness. “It’s okay, I can just get another one! Why don’t you help me pick it out, yeah?” You ask, and her eyes light up with their familiar brightness.

She nods her head furiously and you laugh, picking her up when she raises her arms. You hold her on your hip and lean down just enough for her to grab a new apple to put in your bag. On the sidelines, Minho is trying so hard not to die at the sight in front of him. His daughter looks so happy, and so do you, bonding over the differences between the fruits. He just smiles as he watches in the interaction.

“This one looks perfect! Don’t you agree, sweetie?” You ask the little girl, and she giggles and takes it from your hands. “Yeah! Daddy, look at the apple~~” she says, and Minho’s attention is brought back to the girl in your arms. “Y-yes pumpkin, it looks really perfect! Red apples are a lot sweeter than green apples, they’re your favorite right? Why don’t we get some too?” Minho rambles rather quickly, and it makes you laugh as you watch him clumsily put some apples into a produce bag and hand money to the lady working at the register.

Once you also pay for your apples, Minho invites you to come have lunch with the two of them in the picnic area. You can’t bring yourself to tell them no, so you follow them to an area of grass that is filled with families eating, playing and just enjoying the summer weather. You and Minho help his daughter with her lunch, all the while enjoying the time together, as well. It had been a while since you’d seen each other, because the little girl was no longer in your 4’s class. You spent a few hours with the two of them, and when it was time to go, his little girl scrambles into your lap before you can even make a move to get up.

“I figured something out!” She says, proudly. “Yes, dear, what is it?” Minho asks her, and you crane your head to look over at her. “I think daddy likes you, Miss Y/N,” she blurts out. Your cheeks turn pink, and Minho starts stuttering. “W-what makes you think that, love?” You ask her, and she shrugs her head, completely unbothered by the fact that the two of you look like you’ve been caught, even though nothing has happened.

“Well,” she says, determined. “Daddy talks reaaaallyyyy fast when he talks about me, or soonie doongie and dori, because he likes us a lot. And he does the same thing when he talks to you, or talks about you. I just figured that because he talks fast like that, it must mean he really likes you. Because daddy talks reeeaaally fast about you.” She says, and then goes back to eating a strawberry out of the container that Minho brought with him. The blush on your cheeks turns even darker, and Minho’s face isn’t too far behind, either.

“Aaah, I see. You must be really smart to have figured that out, huh?” You ask her as you laugh, trying to make your nervousness go away. Minho has since taken interest in his hands, not being able to look you in the eye. “Well,” you start, getting the girl’s attention. You lean in close, but still far enough away that Minho can hear, too. “I think that I like your daddy just as much,” You “whisper” in her ear. Her eyes go wide, and Minho’s face shoots up from looking at his hands. “Really?!” The girl squeals, and you just smile and pat her head.

“Really.”

The three of you wander the market for a little while longer, before you notice Minho’s daughter getting sleepy. Once she asks Minho to pick her up, he carries her on his back and she’s out cold within two minutes. He laughs at the snoring toddler, and looks down at the ground before he looks at you. “Did you mean it?” he asks, and you feel your heart explode when you look into his eyes. “About liking me, did you really mean it?” He repeats, and you can’t bring yourself to hide the truth anymore. “Mhm, I did mean it.” You say quietly. His smile brightens ten fold, and if he wasn’t hauling a sleeping child on his back, he would’ve taken your hand. “Well in that case, would it be out of pocket to ask you over for dinner this weekend? She’s going to a slumber party at Seungmin’s house, so we can have an actual conversation,” he asks sheepishly.

“I would love that.”

__________

The rest of the week flies by, and you can feel the nerves gathering in your stomach as you arrive at Minho’s house. Walking inside, it’s exactly how you could imagine it to be. It’s cozy, and you can definitely tell that a toddler lives there. Toys are in the living room corner, stacked neatly next to a two story dollhouse. Sippy cups align the kitchen sink, and you see cat shaped sandwich cutters sitting in the dish drainer. The sight makes you smile, as you remember cooing over the cute shapes at lunch time.

Minho looks absolutely stunning, you think to yourself. He’s dressed casually, but his button down shirt makes his shoulders look broad and the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows makes your knees feel weak. He greets you with a warm smile and a small hug, leading you into the kitchen. He really pulled out all the stops for this– candles at the center of the dining table, two glasses with red wine sitting next to empty plates as he brings the food to the table. “Wow, this looks amazing,” you tell him as you take a seat across from him, sipping your wine. “Thank you, I really hope you like it,” he laughs.

Dinner goes well, just as you expected it to. The two of you never run out of things to talk about, and the wine is definitely helping the two of you loosen up a little bit. Once dinner is over, you insist that you help with the dishes. Minho tries to decline, but you bump him out of the way with your hip, picking up a towel to dry the clean dishes with. He laughs and mimics the action, except his arm wraps around your waist in an attempt to catch you if you fall over. You feel electricity shoot through you at the action, and you turn to face him as you laugh.

He doesn’t let go, and the look in his eyes has you dropping your towel onto the kitchen counter. The air in the room feels charged, and you can’t help but reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. Everything just felt natural, with him. Like you were supposed to be this way all along. His other hand drops the dish he was holding into the sink, and he decides to wrap it around your waist instead. The feeling of finally being encapsulated in his arms makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

The two of you stay like that, for just a moment longer. It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, tightening his hold on you. “Is it..is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks softly. The action is so sweet, you smile as you pull him closer to you. “Please,” you ask, right before his lips crash onto yours. The kiss is soft, slow, everything you could have wanted. His lips still taste like the wine you’ve been drinking, and it makes you want to deepen the kiss. So you do.

Minho feels your tongue at his lips, and he immediately grants you entrance but quickly gains dominance over you. A hand of his moves from your waist up into your hair as he pushes you into the kitchen counter. Your hands roam his body, his broad shoulders and toned arms feeling like heaven under your fingertips. When your hands find his hair, you tug on it slightly and that’s enough to prompt Minho to lift you onto the counter. He’s standing between your legs, his hands falling to your hips once again. He traces light circles into the skin under your sweater as you start trailing kisses down his neck.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” you say breathily, and it makes Minho chuckle. “You really want this?” He asks, confirming that it’s okay for him to take it further. “I want all of it.” You say while looking him in the eyes. They darken, and you can tell that you’ve just awoken something inside the man. His hands bunch under your shirt, slowly lifting it up to reveal the royal purple bra that you were wearing. Thanking god that you chose a matching set, you take the initiative to take your sweater off the rest of the way, throwing it on a chair near the table.

Minho wastes no time attacking your neck, biting marks near your collarbone and trailing them down towards your breast. He takes one in his hands, feeling the fabric underneath his hands and relishing in the quiet noises you’re making. His fingers ghost over your nipples, the texture of the fabric bringing you an added sensation. You subconsciously move your hips against his, feeling how hard he is through his jeans. Minho sighs, and the sound is music to your ears. You continue to move your hips against his, and Minho quickly grabs the back of your legs. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they?” he teases, telling you to hold on as he picks you up and takes you in the direction of his bedroom. His lips never leave your neck, at least not until he has you lying comfortably on top of the pillows on his bead. The look in his eyes is almost primal, and it mirrors every feeling that is running through your body in the moment.

You sit up quickly, unbuttoning his shirt slowly as you kiss each inch of exposed skin. Minho helps you as he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, and you take in the sight of the gorgeous man sitting in front of you. You look down to his jeans and then back into his eyes, as if asking for permission. He grabs your hand and guides it to his belt, and that’s a sure fire sign that you can continue.

You expertly undo his jeans, pulling the zipper down with your teeth in a teasing way. “Fuck, baby,” he says at the sight, and his little praise just spurs you on. You move him to sit on the edge of the bed, and you sink to your knees in front of him as you pull down his jeans. His cock is something to behold– the perfect size, pink and standing at attention. Tempting. You grab the base in your hand, and bring your tongue out to lick at the head. Minho melts into your touch, his fingers going to your hair instantly. You begin slowly, sucking on the head and using your hand to stroke the rest of his cock. It’s taking every ounce of self control from Minho to not fuck into your mouth, wanting to savor the first of hopefully many encounters with you.

You look so gorgeous on your knees for him, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you begin to sink lower onto his cock. He can feel your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein and making sure to swirl your tongue at his head with each pass you make. If you keep this up, he’s going to cum fast.

“As much as I enjoy the feeling of your pretty little mouth, baby, I don’t want to cum inside it this time.” He says, pulling you back up onto the bed. You feel excitement rise in your chest at the idea of a “next time”. You giggle as he hovers over you, pulling you into another kiss. He can taste you on his tongue, and there’s something so inherently dirty about it that makes him impatient.

He starts working on your jeans, undoing the buttons with ease and sliding them down your legs. He stares at the matching purple underwear that you’re in, and he chuckles darkly. “Seems like someone had something certain on their mind when getting dressed today, huh love?” He teases, tracing slow circles over your clit in a teasing way. “I-I don’t know what you mean,” you say as you try to keep your noises to a minimum. He’s going at a pace that is way too slow for your liking, but you’re not ready to beg for it. At least not yet.

“Hm? Feigning innocence now are we? That’s not very nice of you, baby. Tell me, what were you thinking when you put this on today, hm? Were you thinking that I’d take you like a good girl tonight?” He asks. His eyes never leave yours, and you try your hardest to keep your voice level. “Maybe,” you tease, and his pace quickens for just a moment, just enough to have you keening, but then he returns to the torturously slow pace. “Trying to be a brat, are we? Don’t worry, I can have that attitude fixed in no time,” he warns. You want to test him, see how far he’ll go. “Really? I don’t see you doing anything about it,” you fight back.

Bad idea.

Before you can even blink, your underwear are ripped off and thrown across the room, and Minho’s hand is now around your throat. The sweet feeling of the air leaving your lungs has you dizzy, not able to form coherent words. “Oh? Where’s that mouth of yours now huh?” He says, his tone condescending. His fingers return to your core, but this time his pace is rough and fast. You try to move, but the grip on your neck is tight. “Tell me what you want, love. Use your words,” he says. He decides to loosen his grip to let you speak.

“Please, Minho God just-just fuck me,” you finally speak out, voice shaky as your high is quickly approaching you. “That’s all the permission I need, baby doll.” He laughs as he pulls you closer to him. Reaching down, Minho grabs his cock in his hands and runs the head up and down your labia, teasing you before giving you the real thing. “You’re so wet, this is all for me right? I’m the only one who makes you feel like this?” He asks, knowing that you’re slowly losing your cool.

“Yes! Yes it’s only fo- only for you, Minho please” you beg, and it quickly turns into a moan as he enters you. Your back arches, and a low groan comes from Minho’s throat as he feels how tight you are around him. He stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, but once you rock your hips into him even a little, he sets off at a steady pace. The feeling is euphoric, he’s stretching you in just the right places and somehow knows exactly how to make you see stars.

He’s panting, and when you whine a quiet “Harder, please,” he loses all control. Slamming into you quickly, he brings his hand back to your throat. “You’re so perfect for me, baby. Jesus. Only for me,” he says over and over again. He’s leaned close to you now, mouth against your ear and you can hear every ounce of praise that comes from his mouth. Your high is approaching, and you clench around Minho when he starts drawing fast circles on your clit once again.

“Minho I- I’m so close, please make me cum,” you moan, and with a certain swivel of his hips he’s hitting a spot that’s making you see stars. “Cum for me then, baby. Let me feel you,” he says, quickening his pace once again, so fast you didn’t think it was possible.

The only sounds in the room are skin slapping and your labored breathing, moans loud as you finally feel the knot in your core tighten and then burst. His name leaves your lips in a long, drawn out whine, and you feel him fill you up not long after your orgasm starts wearing off. He’s panting in your ear, grip tightening around your throat once again as you feel him spill into you.

Riding out both of your highs, Minho’s thrusts slowly come to a stop. The two of you lay there, basking in the glow of the events that just unfolded. You stay like that for a few minutes, and then Minho gets up to run the shower, placing a kiss on your forehead as he leaves the bedroom.

You end up going for another round in the shower, and then straight to bed as the two of you are too worn out to do anything else.

You wake up the next morning in one of his tshirts, and you can smell pancakes being made in the kitchen. You look over and realize that Minho is no longer next to you, and you smile as you hear the radio playing and a sweet voice singing along.

Aware that his daughter could be coming home at any minute, you throw your own jeans on as you walk into the kitchen, Minho’s shirt still falling off your shoulder. Quietly padding behind him, he jumps as you wrap your arms around his waist. “Good morning,” you giggle, and he quickly turns to place a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning to you too, doll.” He says. The name brings back memories of last night and you feel a blush on your cheeks.

You help him finish making pancakes, and when the front door opens, you hear little feet making their way to the kitchen, followed by the sound of Seungmin’s voice. “Hey, Minho I figured I’d stop in and say hi since I’m dropping off your- oh. Hello.” Seungmin says as he sees you at the counter with said man. “Hi,” you say quietly, giggling at his expression.

 “Y/N!!!!!!!!!!” you hear from behind him. You lean over and see Minho’s daughter coming at you full force. You quickly scoop her up into your arms, spinning her around as her bright laugh fills the room. It makes Minho’s heart explode, and he immediately feels embarrassed as he looks over at Seungmin. “I’m not judging, good for you bro.” The younger man says, sticking out his fist for Minho to bump. He laughs, but does it anyway, his attention turning back to your and his daughter.

“Are you here to have breakfast with us?!?! Daddy makes the best pancakes!!” The girl exclaims, and you laugh as you look over to Minho, sharing a secret glance.

“I sure am, sweetheart.”  

   ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

@dom--minnie @sparklemin @minholuvs @hanflix @moonlit-lixie @feliix

[princessmariaphiliper]

THE SLEEPOVER FIC | Part 1 The Meeting

Notes: James Acaster, Ed Gamble (Platonic), and other characters to be added.

Pairing: James Acaster x Reader 

Genre: Fluff with eventual smut, Slow Burn fic

Words: 1,951

Summary: You and James have put yourselves into trouble, but you think maybe it’s hotter that way. 

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

It was a boring, cottage cheese Wednesday if anyone had bothered to ask you. The sky held a greyish tinge and the London air tasted like exhaust fumes as you made your way back home from the studio. It was 5:50 and you were more than ready to curl into bed, put on a podcast, and stare at your ceiling until you slept.

You’d been tied up in a project lately that stripped every brain cell out of you whenever you tried to think about it. 

This wasn’t because you didn’t like it! Don’t get me wrong, you adored the concept you were trying to convey through your piece. It was just missing something. Hence, Wednesdays the past month had started to feel a little groundhog esque. You knew the fog would part soon. 

Pulling your clattering keys from inside your coat pocket you unlocked the door to your flat. Upon entering you noted the new letters. A missed parcel, various pizza menus and an enclosed envelope from Ticketmaster. Grinning, you opened it up. 

Ed Gamble, McDonalds Apple Pie, November 15th 2021. Sounded delicious, you pulled out your phone, texting Ed. 

Hey! Just got your tickets through. Where are you rehearsing? Let me know when it starts and we can plan something :) 

It had been a while since you and Ed had hung out. You lived on opposite ends of the city and for the most part you were usually busy when he was free ,or vise versa. That the trouble of being friends with theatre people, no matter how hard you try, the schedules don’t gel. However, Ed usually rehearsed his shows in the venue below your flat, luckily this time was no exception.

I start Friday, usual place. We can go for drinks after I finish at 7 if you like?

Yes :))))) would love that!! Can we say 7:15 though as I’ll have to get back from the studio and change 

Yeah that’s fine, I’ll invite some people if that’s okay. We can meet you at the pub first? 

Sounds perfect, see you then. Send Claire love! 

Will do :) 

You put the kettle on and made yourself a pot noodle. Getting ready to sleep before another day of making. Excited at least, with the knowledge that on Friday night, you were getting shitfaced with your mates. 

And so Friday arrived. You started the day off right with a banana and a coffee to go on your way down to the youth centre. Fridays and Tuesdays were your favourite days of the week currently. On these days you worked with other women exploring the ideas of femininity within society. For many years it had been a passion project of yours, creating dialogues with women who’d gone through difficult times in their lives to convey their struggles through art. 

Today you were hosting a dance workshop with a group you had been working with for a while. They had all been making tremendous progress over the past few months you wanted to hold a class in celebration.

“Good morning Y/N” a familiar face beamed from across the hallway. 

“Good morning Olive!” Olivia was a petite lady, somewhere close to her mid forties. She had dyed fire colour hair that she always wore up in a headscarf. She was dance ready, wearing an outrageous and gaudy pair of printed leggings. 

Olive had grown so much as a woman since the first time you had met her, in one of your first ever workshops. The two of you had become thick as honey ever since. She even occasionally helped you plan and run some workshops out of studio now. It gave you joy to know you helped her grow into her full potential in one way or another. 

“How have you been?” 

“Oh same old. Trying not to lose myself in projects. How about you?” 

“Brilliant! Officially divorced on Monday. Sorry I couldn’t make it on Tuesday I was feeling the effect after a few too many champagnes” she laughed, her smile was contagious. Olive had been going through a complicated divorce for a good few years now, some of the reasons she started the project stemmed from such a relationship.

She was such a resilient woman, managing to smile through whatever life had put her through. You loved her distinct lack of care for what people thought of her being a single woman in her forties. 

It made you really put your life into perspective when you had met her. Even encouraging you to drop ties with your ex partner four years ago, who simply, didn’t care for you as a person but rather as an stability object. You hadn’t been in anything serious since. Not that you didn’t want it, being single had it’s perks too. You simply hadn’t been searching. A “bold move” in your late 20’s.

“Congratulations, I’m so happy for you! I’ll have a few for you tonight darling”

“Out on the town are you?”

“Yeah I’m meeting an old friend and hopefully some new people too”

“Well don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she said with a wink. 

“I’ll try my best” 

It was 7:05 and you were definitely going to be late. You’d just set off from the studio, pushing your way through the crowds on the busy streets near your flat. It had been an intense day in the end, most of you and your class had gotten carried away with your choreography. Immersed in the music and memory you wanted to portray. In the end you had all learnt one another’s routines and combined them all to a jazz beat. 

You were still in your sports bra, leggings and oversized shirt with the duffel bag over your shoulder when you reached the outside door to your apartment complex. You heard a voice boom at you from behind. 

“Y/Nickname” you turned around, instantly knowing who it was by the stupid name. 

“Ed!” 

He was coming up from the basement venue staircase, there was another man loitering casually behind him. In an instant you recognised him from the telly. It was the one and only James Acaster, dressed in a deep green suit, white shirt and purple Oxfords. He had a peppering of stubble across his face that you hadn’t seen him sport on tv before. You noted it looked good on him. You made your way over to your friend and embraced him into the first hug you’d had in a long time. 

“Sorry I just got back, I might be a little late. I need to have a shower. Very sweaty” 

“Yes. Thanks for the hug” he said, making you chuckle. “We can wait around for you if you like. No one else is coming until later anyways. Oh! This is James by the way” James have a polite wave of a hello and smile at you then.

You didn’t quite know the etiquette of meeting people you’d seen on Dave for years. A simple, “Hi I’m Y/N” you decided was the most normal option. “You can come up if you like. I won’t be too long” 

“Sure” 

And so the trio of you braced the stairs and made it into your apartment. You moved rubbish around as you all entered. Slightly ashamed of how messy it was, moving open books into one corner of the living room to make space on the coffee table for some drinks. If they were waiting for you you’d at least fix them a little something as a thank you. 

“What would you like? I’ve got vodka, gin or tequila. Lemonade orange juice and pineapple juice for mixer” 

“Ooh vodka and pineapple sounds delicious Y/N” Ed said with some excitement, taking a comfortable seat on the sofa. James hung nervously by the door, as though he wasn’t sure of the etiquette this time. 

“Same here” he agreed

“Please have a seat, make yourself at home.” You said with a smile, watching as he looked around the room. You became slightly anxious that his glaze was clouded with judgement until he spoke as he went to take a seat next to Ed. 

“Nice place, where’d you get the paintings?” He asked genuinely as you began pouring three glasses of juice. 

“I made them myself” 

“Oh you’re an artist?” 

“Sort of, I work in lots of art forms, mostly theatre and community projects. Not painting though, it’s just hobby and plus, home décor is expensive”

He chuckled a little at that as you brought the two of them their drinks over. “I’ll put some music on while you shower is that okay?” Ed said, taking his phone out after taking a swig of his drink. “That’s strong” 

“Sorry might have given you mine” you said jokingly “let me disconnect my Bluetooth then” you said getting out your own and switching to Spotify. You played the music for a second or two just until you had it disconnected. It was the song you’d been working with all day at the studio with the jazz beat and hypnotic drumming.

“Is that Jon Bap?”

“Yeah, I was using it today at work” His eyes gleamed, visibly excited by the idea of it. 

“I love ‘What Now’,” he took a drink and shaking his head to himself “Such good drums on that album” 

“Yeah, you like the drums?”

“Was a drummer for years in my 20’s” 

You were slightly shocked by his comment on his age, always assuming he was younger than 30. Although it made sense for him and Ed to be in the same age bracket.

“Hey, that's cool, I never made it further than level two recorder. Guess I just don't have musical genes, anyways I’ll hop in the shower. Won’t be long” 

You made your way to the bathroom. Listening as the two men struck up a conversation. Giddy from the knowledge of their being pleasant conversation and good company tonight. You’d always admired James, never really considering the fact you may possibly meet him. You hoped that wouldn't mess up the possibility of a future friendship, by making a reference to something that he’d said on the telly before. Shaking the idea you stripped off, turning on the faucet and climbing inside. 

After you’d felt refreshed you did a little, awkward,  jig to your bedroom in your towel. You hadn’t considered the fact that from where James sat on the couch you could see all the way down the corridor. Your bathroom being on the right, and your room right on the very end. Embarrassment aside you dried off your hair and did your makeup quickly yet efficiently. Slowing down only to put on a red lip with care. You then got dressed. Choosing to opt for something a little fancy tonight as the other two had clearly made an effort. Even if you did end up somewhere at 4am, it still felt good to dress up for the walk of ‘platonic’ shame. 

You chose a silky skirt with a slip down the leg in a champagne iridescent colour. Paired with a tight long sleeved polo in white. You slipped on a pair of socks with ruffles over the top of your rhinestone tights. You emerged from your room feeling a little more confident and ready for a boogie. 

James smiled brightly at you when he noticed you’d come out. Something else was flashing across his face that you couldn’t quite pinpoint however. You brushed it off, blaming the triple vodka pineapple you’d been sipping through your ready-ing routine. 

“7:28, not bad” Ed said looking at his watch when you fully entered your living room. Pulling on your white leather converse. You told him to shut up in response and book an Uber.

[dangerouslyallaboutdraco]

Story of us

A/n: Angsty, post-Hogwarts and slightly r13 towards the end. 

The history between Y/n and Draco was... complicated. There was something between them that their friends just couldn't understand. On paper there was no reason for them to dislike each other as much as they did, she was a pureblood Slytherin who grew up very similarly to him and also had to change her views like Draco did after the war.

They shared trauma and multiple parallel life experiences but they just didn't get along. Pansy and Daphne never got it, why Y/n had that look of disgust on her face once Draco finished talking.

Blaise and Theo thought it would get better after they left Hogwarts and didn't spend all their free time together, but still, Draco rolled his eyes whenever she walked into the room.

Now they were adults in the wide world, jobs, partners but the tightknit friend group stayed close. Friday nights were always time they spent together, reserved for clubbing or a pub night out or even sitting on Blaise and Pansy's living room floor.

Tonight it was the latter. With a G and T (her favourite muggle alcohol) in her hand, Y/n sat on their couch next to Pansy who had had a lot more than her to drink.

Just as the boys had taken out their hidden stash of weed, Y/n spoke up. "I'm going to go outside." It wasn't that she was opposed to weed, she just didn't like the smell and the boys always insisted on smoking so much they couldn't see out the windows.

Blaise and Pansy's apartment had a beautiful wrap-around balcony. While Y/n and Draco were both fair wealthier, they both received substantial graduation gifts that went a long way to getting an apartment in a good part of London.

They had been together since the last year of Hogwarts, all of their friends watching them slowly grow closer over the year until they realised they were in love.

It was beautiful and while 17-year-old Y/n envied them, she always wanted to speak at their wedding.

As soon as she opened the balcony door the still night air hit her. While it was colder than inside, the sweet smell of the summer air made it a nice contrast.

The sun was just setting in the distance and the sky was the most beautiful golden, pink colour. It was the time Y/n always liked to look out her window at during the war, knowing there was peacefulness at the end of the day always made the long days feel slightly better. The way the warm light danced over the water, dancing on the walls of the usually dark dormitory.

Standing out on the balcony, where the world was right and falling into place felt a lot better. Like nothing could get her down.

She was off in her own world, not noticing when Draco opened the sliding door and walked out next to her.

"Shit Draco!" She shrieked once he put his hand on her lower back. She ignored the tingling feeling in her stomach as she glared at him.

Draco stepped closer to her, maybe too close for her liking. "You could really do with some weed to chill out." He told her, holding the joint closer to her face. "This stuff is the shit, just fresh from my guy." He continued to tell her.

Maybe she would have been interested in Draco if he were less cocky, less rude and a bit more sensitive. Something in his bad-boy image had developed over the year that meant she liked him less.

"Do you always insist on speaking like a druggy?" Y/n asked him, watching him carefully as he looked over the railing with his joint.

He retaliated quickly. "Do you always insist on being such a tight ass, Miss Goody-two-shoes?" He couldn't understand why she always seemed to spoil their fun, ever since they were sorted into Slytherin. 

She just rolled her eyes at him and stared out into the distance. While he was no longer disturbing her silence he was still disturbing her peace and alone time. 

She didn't feel like arguing with him either, it was just too much effort. Draco stood there, smoking his joint while Y/n gazed at the skyline. 

“Why are you even out here?” Y/n snapped at him, suddenly feeling annoyed by the smell of his smoking. 

“Because I can be, what even is your problem with me?” He was definitely going to find out how she felt now, pushing her to the limits made her snappy. 

She rolled her eyes at him, obviously annoyed. “We faced pretty much all of the same challenges in life, but you just became a failure and it really annoys me.” 

“Well, you’re just a slut who hooked up with several guys at school, none of which liked you for any reason other than your body.” Draco’s words did hurt her quite a bit, it wasn’t like she didn’t know he hated her but hearing him say that the people she’d been intimate with never actually cared for her hurt. 

“Fuck off, Draco.” She told him, carefully. 

The look on his face showed her that he was not going to stop for a second. “Just because you don’t like the truth, bitch.”  

“Just leave me alone.” She told him, turning away. 

Draco couldn’t stop winding her up now, it just brought him too much amusement. “Or what, Y/l/n, will you sleep with me like you did every other guy?”

Y/n turned around and put her hand up to slap Draco’s cheek. It wasn’t as hard as she could have hit him but it was the hardest she ever hit anyone. There was a loud sound as her palm contacted his face. 

Still stunned and with her hand in mid-air, Draco snatched her wrist. There they were standing in a face-off, Draco’s slim finger wrapped around her wrist and suddenly there was not one sound. Both of them staring into each other’s eyes. Although Y/n felt threatened, never one to back down from a challenge she scrutinized his eyes.  

Draco was seeing red, his least favourite of all the colours. He was like a bull staring down where he was going to charge. The colour of hatred, blood, anger and passion.

The passion she felt for him, it was surging from where he was touching her. He was the energy source that filled her usually with range but now it was amour fou. 

In a moment Draco released his grip on her hand and moved his hands to her cheeks. Unlike his prior roughness, his thumb stroked along her cheekbones softly and carefully like he was afraid to break her as he lay his fingers under her jawline. 

His softness was a complete shock to Y/n who was still gazing into his eyes. The cold fingertips were more gentle than she’d ever expected, dancing across her jawline with such care. She wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced a touch this delicate. 

There they stayed for a few moments, taking each other in. Both of their minds were on the other, brains frenzied trying to figure out how this had happened. Draco was sure he was infatuated with her perfume, obsessed over the perfect blend of coconut and vanilla that was all he could focus on.

Before either of them could think about the consequences their lips were pressed together in a heated kiss. The passion radiated off them, electricity circuiting through them. And it finally felt, for both of them, that every little puzzle piece fit. 

Eventually they lips parted, their eyes flickering open. Draco was an inch from her face, not believing just how beautiful she was. He held his hands on her face tighter not wanting to let her slip out of his grip. 

“Draco Malfoy, I am 100% in love with you.” Y/n slowly let out. She’d just kissed her arch-enemy so there was no point in not being truthful. 

He smirked, that cute little smirk that had only ever annoyed her from across the common room. “Damn it, y/l/n!” He exclaimed with mock anger. “Now we’re going to tell our kids that mum said ‘I love you’ first.” It was odd for Y/n to see him like that as they were usually at each other’s throats. And now he was thinking about their very distant future.

She smiled to match his. “Just tell me it back, you dork.”

“I am 110% in love with you.” Draco counted. “Do you want to come back to my place?”

Y/n’s face turned to worry. “This isn’t a joke, is it?” Usually, this isn’t the type of shit he would pull but she’d never know. 

“No, no, no.” His fingers were back stroking her cheeks. “I am really sorry about what I said, believe me, I’ll never say something like that again.”

Something in Y/n knew he wasn’t lying. There was no chance he didn’t feel the same passion he did in the kiss. “Well, you could take me to dinner before you try and get into my panties.” 

Draco let out a light laugh, blowing air right onto her face. “Whoever said I wanted to do that, you flirt?”

“Don’t act like you don’t want to fuck me.” The chemistry between them was electric and hot. The pair looking into each other's eyes with desire.

“Let’s go before I do you right here.” Y/n looked at him with challenging eyebrows. “Do you need me to prove it?”

 Y/n pulled back from his grip on her face, leaving Draco standing there like an idiot. “Hurry up then.” She said, looking back over her shoulder with a smile as she went to open the patio door. 

[andyet-here-we-are]

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 3 (aka Nurse Geralt AU)

(Check the pinned post for the first two chapters please~)

The next day flows by in a blur for Geralt. He wakes up, takes a shower, prepares a quick but nutritious breakfast for Ciri, and makes oatmeal for himself.

On his way to the hospital, he thinks about Jaskier and wonders if he should call him now. He almost does that, but then he decides against it because he knows that Jaskier is busy having his fourth dream right now probably. It's too early to call him as much as he wants to do so. 

His mind wanders on how cute Jaskier sounds when he is sleepy—when he has just woken up.

Cute, but also usually a bit grumpy even though he denies it with every inch of his being.

***

"That shouldn't be legal," is what Geralt thinks when he steps into the hospital room, unable to take his eyes off Jaskier's sleeping figure. "I can't believe I'm supposed to do that. God, have some mercy on me. I love my job, I really do, but it sucks big time sometimes. Why should I suffer this way?"

A moment later, he is well aware of how dramatic he is being, and how hard he frowns, making a source face. It's not like him to act like this at all.

Damn.

"That dramatic son of a flower must be rubbing off on me," annoyed at himself, he mumbles before he coughs as if that alone is enough to wake the musician up. 

"Good morning," he tries when Jaskier doesn't wake up and slightly turns to the other side of his bed instead.

"Mr. Pankratz, it's your medicine time."

Jaskier slightly opens his eyes just to look at him this time, and the first thing he mumbles is: "What happened to your ears?" before closing his eyes again. 

"What are you talking about?" The nurse questions, checking his ears with his free hand that isn't holding the medicine tray, wondering what he meant by that.

"Are you still asleep?"

"Yes... No. Maybe?" Jaskier mumbles again, half asleep as he rubs his eyes, trying to make sleepiness go away.

"You will have to pick one of them."

The musician opens his eyes after a while and smiles at Geralt.

"Morning. God, what a sight to wake up to."

Geralt must be used at this by now. Because whenever Geralt has to wake him up, no matter how much Jaskier complains at first most of the time, he always utters the same words eventually.

"What a sight to wake up to."

Yet, every time he does that, Geralt's heart flutters in his chest.

"You didn't sound too happy with my ears, though. What was that about?"

"Ah, about that. I had a dream that— promise you won't laugh?"

"Can't do."

"Anyway," Jaskier yawns and explains: "I had a dream that you were an... elf."

"I was a— what?" Geralt laughs.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't laugh!" The musician stares at him like he is ready to kill him. 

"I never said that," Geralt forces himself to stop laughing. "Well, that explains everything."

"Shh, stop interrupting me. It's mean."

"Sorry, I'm all ears. Not elf ears, though, sorry to disappoint you."

"Don't sweat it. Bad guys were trying to steal Mrs. Ansley's—who was a fairy, speaking of which—cookie recipe, which was also the key of a parallel universe, somehow. You were trying to protect the recipe, then puff. Some gingerbread men came out of nowhere to help you, but you tried to... eat them? Well, not just tried actually. You managed to eat their leader. Therefore they decided to join the dark side. Can't blame you, though. They looked pretty yummy. I was about to hop on my unicorn for help when you woke me up. A unicorn wearing a pasta costume. Pink pasta costume. Yeah, yeah, I know, that makes no sense, is there even a pink pasta costume?" He asks sleepily, raising an eyebrow. "Also, I had a magical lute, I think."

"You think that your whole dream makes sense, but just the pink pasta costume doesn't?"

"I've never seen a pink pasta costume, so..."

"Oh, sorry, right. I forgot you have seen everything else but that. The elf version of me, alive gingerbreads and all. My bad."

He chuckles at that lightly.

"Still more possible than a pink pasta costume."

"The most ridiculous dream you had this week might be this one so far."

Jaskier seemed to have taken it upon himself to tell Geralt about his dreams. This was the eighth dream he talked about this week, and it wasn't even Friday yet.

"It was like," he opens his arms wide as if he is presenting the name of his new song to the whole world, " 'Geralt and Jaskier in Wonderland' I blame the medicines. And you," he points at the nurse. "I also blame you. For looking like... " he then gestures at everything, "this."

"You blame me?" The other man snorts, amused. "If anything, you should blame yourself for having the wrong dream. Have you ever looked at yourself? You would make a good elf, not me. You are as bea— I mean, anyway, medicine time."

"I am what now? Wait, wait, wait, were you about to call me beautiful?"

"I was about to call you bearable, but then I thought that would be mean."

"I think you were about to call me beautiful, but then you thought 'That wouldn't be professional, you are his nurse,' or something along these lines. Also, that's not even how you start when you're about to say 'bearable' they are not even pronounced the— "

"That's not what happened."

"Nahh, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what happened, but eh, whatever helps you sleep at night, love."

"You're probably thinking you're still in 'Geralt and Jaskier in Wonderland', go back to sleep, you're delusional."

"I am so not! And that would be your problem even if I was. Wanna check my fever?" He says, giving the nurse a once-over, "I feel hot, suddenly."

"Well, that explains why you're delusional, doesn't it?" Geralt teases. "Take your medicine and you will be just fine."

Jaskier sighs and does as he is told.

"Geralt," Jaskier says before Geralt is about to leave, a grin on his face "I think you are 'bearable', too. "

***

Geralt means to call Jaskier.

He really does.

Yet, whenever he is about to call him, something comes up, and eventually, he just accepts that he is going to have to wait for his shift to be over. 

For some reason, he doesn't want to call him and get interrupted after a minute.

And he doesn't want to send him a text, because he prefers hearing his angelic voice instead.

So, yeah. He is kind of stuck there for now.

***

Geralt finds Ciri laughing at her own joke as she watches The Office when he gets home, and this reminds him of Jaskier since that's something they both have in common. Once again, he finds himself thinking about the musician.

***

“Shit, it hurts,” Jaskier says, holding his chest.

“Maybe it’s the universe’s way to tell you to stop laughing at your own jokes.”

“Oh shut up, the universe can kiss my ass.”

“Seems like it prefers to kick your ass instead.”

That draws an annoyed laugh out of him, which makes him hiss in pain.

“It wouldn’t send me here if it was trying to kick my ass, Mr. Should Have Been A Model But Became A Nurse For Some Reason.”

“I can't believe you still keep using that silly nickname unironically. Don’t you think that it is a bit long?”

“You may be right. Hmm, I’ll just call you ‘Mr. Handsome Nurse,’ from now on.”

“Please don’t. No.”

“How about just ‘Handsome’ ?”

“Still no.”

“Why not? It’s just a fact. You wouldn’t get mad at someone if they would point at a yellow wall and call it a ‘yellow wall’ would you?”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“I see no differences.”

“Then you better get your eyes checked.” 

“Speaking of which—” Jaskier reaches for his scratch book standing on the bedside table “can I borrow your eyes for a second?”

Geralt frowns, wondering what the musician is up to this time.

Jaskier opens his scratch book and stares in his eyes intently for a while and as he scribbles something. "Thanks," he says, "I just needed an accurate model of the stars."

"You know," the nurse shakes his head and answers smoothly: "you could just ask for a mirror."

Geralt can't help but smirk at his open-mouthed speechlessness. 

***

He hears a familiar voice singing, and for a moment he is sure that he has finally gone insane. 

Drying his hands on a washcloth, Geralt makes his way to the source of the voice, thinking "That must how Jerry feels when he follows the smell of a piece of cheese Tom tries to fool him with."

Jaskier's voice is irresistible to him, just like how cheese is irresistible to Jerry.

Absolutely irresistible, and hard to miss.

He could distinguish Jaskier's voice among all the rest if he heard it in a room filled with millions of men singing a song together.

This voice is coming from their living room. To be more specific, from Ciri's laptop—which she was supposed to use for searching her homework topic, but that can wait for now—

"Or I shall die," he hears Jaskier singing oh so sincerely and dramatically "or I shall die!"

"Dad! Please don't be mad, I swear to God I was going to start doing my homework, but—"

The first thing he does when he sits on the couch next to his daughter is grabbing the laptop and rewinding the video to the start. He then checks if the volume is at maximum.

"Shhh," he gestures, all of his attention is on the video he is watching.

He doesn't even realize that he takes a deep breath as soon as he sees the musician's face appear in front of him on the screen before Jaskier even starts singing.

He is as beautiful as ever in his ridiculous mint green shirt that he left the first four buttons undone.

It has cactus patterns on it.

Geralt can't help but wonder if Jaskier wearing this shirt is actually some kind of a secret message to him and him only.

Didn't he say that Geralt was just like a cactus?

"...prickly on the outside sometimes, but soft on the inside? A cactus in the desert.”

His words. Not Geralt's.

What does that even mean then? Something like "I wanna wear you on me like a shirt?"

Okay, he should probably stop because he is reading too much into this and—

"Anyway, so, this song goes to the cruel man who made me want to buy this shirt because it reminded me of him. You know who you are,"

Geralt's breath hitches.

He is not reading too much into this.

If anything, it's vice versa, because Jaskier dedicated a song to him.

Jaskier is thinking about him, too.

Thinking about him too much that he has decided he should dedicate a song to him.

The scene splits into five and one of the boxes on the screen shows Jaskier playing the piano, while in the other he plays the lute occasionally, violin in another one, and accordion in the other one. And in the other, he sings.

Good God. Is there anything this man cannot do?—Besides picking names for babies maybe, since picking names is definitely isn't his strong suit.—

"I tell myself what's done is done

I tell myself don't be a fool

Play the field have a lot of fun

It's easy when you play it cool"

"Does this mean he gave up on me because he got fed up with waiting for my call?" he thinks. But then again, why would he sing a song for him if he gave up?

While watching the video, Geralt is well aware of the fact that he will watch this video again and again and will take special care of each Jaskier— making sure not to miss even the tiniest of the mimic and gesture he does.

"I tell myself don't be a chump

Who cares, let him stay away

That's when the phone rings and I jump

And as I grab the phone I pray

Let it please be him, oh dear God

It must be him or I shall die

Or I shall die"

He was right, this isn't a song that screams: "I'm giving up." Thank God it isn't. Jaskier puts his hand on his chest as he sings, and Ciri sighs next to Geralt, resting her head on his shoulder as she watches the video with him. 

"Oh hello, hello my dear God

It must be him but it's not him

And then I die

That's when I die"

That dramatic son of a flower actually flings himself into an armchair.

"After a while, I'm myself again

I take the pieces off the floor

Put my heart on the shelf again

You'll never hurt me anymore"

While he sings the "put my heart on the shelf again" he puts a heart sculpture on his bookshelf with a serious look and frown on his face. He might have got this heart sculpture just for this video for all Geralt knows.

"I'm not a puppet on a string,"

At this point, Geralt wouldn't be surprised to see actual strings attached to the musician's body just so he could cut the strings. He really wouldn’t be surprised, at all.

Because Jaskier is that extra most of the time.

And Geralt loves that about him.

"I'll find somebody else someday

That's when the phone rings, and once again

I start to pray

Let it please be him, oh dear God

It must be him, it must be him

or I shall die, or I shall die"

The musician's voice goes up effortlessly into an unreachable octave as he sings the last part, and it's impossible not to be impressed. 

But then again, the man puts his heart into everything he does, therefore even doing something like folding a simple frog origami seems impressive when he is the one who's doing it, let alone singing as perfectly as this.

He then slowly walks towards the camera as the other boxes disappear and that one takes over the screen.

"Seriously though," he makes an aggressive 'call me' gesture, and the scene fades to black after that.

"Whoever keeps Jaskier waiting must be crazy," Ciri comments and gave a snort of disapproval and frustration. "He must care about this idiot of a guy a lot if he sings for him like this. What a jabroni. It would take him only a minute to call him."

"Ciri!"

"What? I'm right."

"That's not a nice thing to say," Geralt warns as he hands the laptop back to his daughter.

"I'm surprised that you watched the full thing, by the way. Actually, you don't seem too annoyed with me watching his videos nowadays, and you seemed quite interested in this one."

"I just love Vikki Carr," Geralt says. He has seen the title of the video, after all, so he knew this was a cover of her song. "I've wondered how he sang this song."

"Name five Vikki Carr songs then."

Geralt doesn't know five Vikki Carr songs— he can't even name two, let alone five.

"Okay, I think that's enough fun for you today," the nurse pretends not to have heard his daughter. "Do your homework while I go out to get some milk."

"We have milk at home."

"No, we don't."

"I put it in the fridge myself just this morning, so yeah, we do."

"We're out of these cookies you love, though."

"I thought you said they consumed way too much sugar so we were going to come up with a healthy and as I've read from your invisible subtitles, also probably boring recipe we can make together this weekend?"

"I— God, you ask a lot of questions today." Geralt whispers tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting Ciri's "boring recipe" comment slide.

Fuck him for not saying "I'm gonna go get some groceries," instead.

"I just asked one question, but okay. So? You changed your mind?"

"Yeah, I changed my mind, just for one more week, you can have it."

"Really?! Thanks!"

"Anything you want, pumpkin. Alright, I'm off!"

Geralt ruffles her hair before he grabs his wallet, keys, and most importantly, his phone.

Just before he closes the door, he can hear Jaskier's voice coming from the living room once again.

He cannot blame Ciri at all.

***

"If this is another spam call and not the important call I've been waiting for I swear on all my lute strings that I'll crush that damn phone on the ground and dance upon its bloody ruins! Actually, no, wait, that would mean the possibility of missing the call I've been waiting for, but you got my point."

As soon as Jaskier answers his call and starts talking, he feels like all the tiredness of the day disappears. Jaskier's voice manages to do that even when he is simply busy telling him off, having no idea who he is talking to. 

He can see that Ciri was right. He is an idiot for waiting for the right time.

"I'm seriously so sick of—"

Geralt finally cuts him off by saying: "Wow, I wouldn't wanna be a scammer or something right now, you aggressive Dandelion."

"Wait a second, this voice— Geralt?! Is that really you? Oh my God, you finally ca— I mean—"

Jaskier coughs as if he tries not to sound too excited, "Heey, the best nurse in the existence," Geralt can almost see his flirty frowning, yes, he manages to make even frowning look flirty for crying out loud, "How's it hanging?" he asks, his voice sounds deep, lazy, and dare he say, sensual.

"I should be asking you the same question. Are you still praying by the phone?"

"Someone does stalk me on social media, I see."

"And someone sings a song and makes a pretty impressive video clip for me, I see. My daughter was watching it, and that's how I found out about it. Just for your information."

"So you're not the one who stalks me online. It's Ciri," Jaskier says, and the fact that he remembers Ciri's name warms up Geralt's heart if he's being honest. "Sweet. Cool. Cool. I'm not hurt by that at all."

"Well..."

"Would you die if you let me be happy for just a moment? Not that I'm not happy to know that your daughter still watches my videos, but it would be nice to hear that you were the one who checked my account willingly."

"I'm sure I would see your video today anyway. Maybe it wouldn't be that soon, I admit, but I would see it."

"Is that so?"

"It is so."

Silence.

But it isn't an uncomfortable one.

"Did you really find it impressive?" Jaskier asks, his voice is full of hope and happiness.

"Well—" 

"Nah, I know it's impressive, forget that I asked," he lets out a long sigh, "If I knew making a video clip for you would make you call me right away, I would do that earlier. Were you playing 'hard to get' or something? You know... I find it kinda cruel to make someone who just got out of the hospital keep waiting on the phone for so long. For your information, that 'kinda' is kinda unnecessary here maybe. I call it 'the polite kinda'. Or 'the unnecessary kinda'. " 

The next moment, Jaskier's playful tone leaves its place to a caring, worried one as he keeps talking: "If something is going wrong with your life, I take it back though. Ignore everything I said in that case. Is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"Ah, about that— Don't worry, everything is alright," Geralt replies, "I was thinking about calling you today, but I couldn't quite find the time. I know that's not an excuse, and I know I could call you earlier, but I didn't want to call you only to say 'I have to hang up,' a minute later."

"I’m happy to hear that nothing is wrong. And well, even that would be better than leaving me hanging. Or a simple 'Hey, the best patient ever' text would do. You took so long that I would be lying if I said I didn't think about getting involved in another accident."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"I would get into millions of accidents just to see you, Geralt. Provided that I could have you as my nurse every time, of course. What's the point otherwise? I'm not a masochist."

"Such a flatterer you are, Mr. Pan—"

"I'm not trying to flatter you. Cross my heart and hope do die, I'm just scattering the facts around like they are glitters. Or cake sprinkles."

"God forbid! Accidents, death... Aren't we gonna talk about nice things at all?"

"I've been waiting for you to call me forever. I have every right to be bitter about it."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise. How about I start making up to you, starting now?" 

"Sounds like you have something in your mind, Mr. Handsome Nurse." 

"I do, indeed. Have you had dinner yet?" 

"Does strawberry yogurt count as dinner?"

"I highly doubt it. You were complaining about hospital food, and yet that's what you choose to have for dinner?"

"I've never said I count yogurt as quality dinner, but it's still better than the things you dare to serve people as 'food', I should admit, I thought you already came to terms with—"

"Maybe you should come over so I can show you how a proper, nice dinner looks like. I'm not half bad at cooking."

Jaskier is silent on the other end of the line.

"Are you still there?" Geralt asks finally, "I'm sorry if this was too forward of me or too soon, I just thought it could be nice. You could meet Ciri too, that way." 

"No! Yeah! I mean—" if Geralt didn't imagine it, Jaskier sighs and murmurs an angry 'get it together you dumbass,' to himself before he continues talking. "Yes, I'm still here. No, this wasn't too forward of you. I was just taken aback a little bit, sorry. I mean, not every day a handsome nurse who I've been waiting for his call for a decade calls and invites me over for dinner. I'd love that, Geralt."

"I'll send you the address, then." Geralt checks his watch, it's nearly 6 p.m. "Is eight okay for you?"

"Sure, that should be fine. Hey, Ciri still doesn't know, right?"

"I don't think I need to answer that."

"Huh? Why is that?"

"Don't you think she would just grab my phone and call you herself if she knew? Or reaching out to you on every social media possible? Shouting from the rooftops, even?"

"She really likes me that much?"

"She just called me, I quote, an 'idiot', 'crazy', and 'jabroni' after watching your video, so..."

"She did what?!"

"I mean, not directly at me since she doesn't know I'm the 'him' in the 'it must be him', but still." 

"Seems to me like you're in big trouble here."

"Don't even remind me about it."

"I'd be lying if I said that doesn't put some pressure on me though. I mean... What if she doesn't like me?"

"Wha— Ciri already adores you. She adores you so much that it's annoying sometimes."

"It's impossible not to like you," is on the tip of his langue.

"They say never meet your heroes. What if when she actually meets me, she goes 'Meh, that's it?' What if I disappoint her somehow?"

"Worrying about earth getting invaded by the aliens in pink pasta costumes and tutus would much more sense compared to this. Believe me."

Jaskier laughs at that, but Geralt can still sense that he is not completely convinced.

"If you say so."

"I know so, Jaskier. I know so."

[anxious2dsimp]

Everything He's Not | Iwaizumi x GN! Reader | Short Fic

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Flavour: Angst (Reader x Cheater!Oikawa) to Fluff (Reader x Iwaizumi)💔→☁️

Reader: Gender Neutral!

Format: Short Fic (alternating between two sides of the story, y/n and Iwa's)

Part: 1 out of 2 (read part 2 here)

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Y/N, has dated the very popular Oikawa Toru for a while, through him becoming friends with his group. However, little do they know about a certain stoic ace's feelings for his best friend's s/o. When Oikawa screws up big time, will Iwaizumi's true feelings finally show? And what will Y/N do when everything goes down?

Warnings: Cheating, cursing, breakups, basically Oikawa x Reader angst turned into Iwaizumi x Reader fluff.

A/N: I wrote this for myself a while back but I edited it into a gender-neutral reader insert on a sleep-deprived whim (sorry if there are any mistakes, feel free to let me know!) Ik it's very random, but hopefully someone likes it :)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Your POV

Dating Oikawa Toru was definitely different from what you expected; at first you were weary about the volleyball star, but after giving him a chance you started to see the real him. Yes, he was the captain of a powerhouse’s Volleyball team and had a ton of fangirls, but really he was just a regular guy with dorky interests and an alien obsession, which was the side of him you fell for. It wasn’t all great, dealing with his fangirls was rough; luckily you were safe being from another school, but they’d take any chance they had to try and gain Oikawa’s interest, flirting with him as he did the same back, not with bad intentions, it was just his personality. It did slightly annoy you, but you knew he was clear that we were together and wouldn’t take things further, he was just keeping up his image, and he promised you that was all.

Since your Karasuno friends didn’t particularly like your relationship with the setter (though they did respect it), you two hung out with his Aoba Johsai friends; that’s how your friendship with Iwa, Makki, and Mattsun started. You all became good friends, so they all helped you keep Oikawa in line while at school (especially Iwaizumi). Since you got along so well your friendship became its own thing besides Oikawa, and before you realized it, you and Iwa were such good friends that you chatted almost daily on the phone.

You don’t know what exactly made you bond so much, maybe you were similar in the sense that you were both used to being lowkey, keeping things together behind the scenes; regardless, you both enjoyed each other’s company. That Tuesday afternoon was one of those days, Oikawa had something to do at school, so Iwaizumi invited you, Makki, and Mattsun over to his place to wait for the captain like you usually did since it was the closest to the school.

So, you just chilled like always, laughing and playing video games, talking about whatever came to mind. While you were in the middle of a Mario Kart match, you heard the front door of the apartment open, “(y/n)-chan! I’m sorry for the delay~” the brunette said in a sing-song voice.

“Hi to you too, Oikawa,” said Makki, poking fun at him, to which he just rolled his eyes and walked over to the couch. “Aren’t you gonna give me a kiss?” Oikawa asked standing in front of the screen, causing all four of you to start yelling at him to get out of the way, making him pout. “One sec, Toru-chan,” you said, biting your lip while focusing on keeping your first place intact for the last lap. The setter just giggled and got out of the way, walking around the sofa to stand behind you.

Iwaizumi’s POV

‘Eyes on the screen Iwaizumi,’ the ace told himself as he tried to focus on the game, attempting to ignore the way Oikawa kissed (y/n)’s neck while they played, trying to get their attention but failing miserably other than a giggle here and there. Iwa could tell by the way their (e/c) colored eyes pierced the screen that they wanted to win. The boy could see why his best friend liked them, unlike most people (y/n) actually treated Oikawa like a normal person, which definitely got him going. It wasn’t just that though, you all became such good friends because they’re smart, funny and beyond kind; but that’s all you were, friends. So why did it make him moody to see them be all couple-y?

After all, they were together while he was just the friend, the one who kept the fangirls off Oikawa so (y/n) didn’t have to worry because he couldn’t do it himself. Even though Toru was Iwaizumi’s best friend since they were kids, he couldn’t help but think that his friend wasn’t the greatest boyfriend. However, that was the same reason why he couldn’t say anything either, after all, they made him happy and vice versa, so he just kept telling himself to keep his damn eyes on the screen.

Luckily for him, the game was soon over so you all ordered takeout and sat around talking. “Yo, (y/n), there’s this new scary movie on Netflix, we should watch it this Friday night,” Mattsun stated, stealing one of Maki’s fries and throwing it in his mouth. “That sounds fun, but I can’t Friday! Karasuno has a friendly match against a few Tokyo schools this weekend so we leave Thursday after school,” (y/n) explained with a sweet smile, Iwaizumi’s eyes casually wondering over to Oikawa to see him looking upset.

‘Ugh, here goes,’ the spiker thought to himself. Lately, Toru had been restless and uncomfortable because according to him, his s/o was slipping away from him. Oikawa had somehow managed to convince himself that Karasuno had made it their mission to get their manager (y/n) to stop liking him and had been getting increasingly dramatic and jealous lately for no reason.

“But I thought we were going to hang out this weekend,” Oikawa whined as he pouted at his significant other, trying to seem jokingly disappointed though his best friend could tell he actually was upset. “Babe, we literally talk every day and we hung out all this past weekend, and today,” (y/n) said taking his hand.

“Plus, you have friends too, Shittykawa,” Hajime said, trying to get his friend’s mind out of that dark place since he knew he was more prone to make stupid comments when it was there. Oikawa didn’t drop it, insisting on how they were talking less as (y/n) continued to explain that school had been busy and how he also had responsibilities that took up his time. They eventually got him to shut up, but Iwaizumi couldn’t shake the concern that he was being too stupid, and it felt like he was getting closer and closer to making a mistake.

Your POV

You had to admit you did feel guilty when you told Toru you were leaving for the weekend, it was true that you had been way too busy with school and that neither of you had much free time, but you knew that your feelings for him were still strong. So, that Thursday after school you were happy and excited to hear that the trip had been postponed and you’d actually travel on Saturday morning because Sensei had a very important meeting on Friday afternoon. With the change of plans, you decided to go surprise your boyfriend, and it already being late in the afternoon, by the time you got to his place he would be home.

As you got off the bus by his place and got closer to his house, the sun beginning to set, a couple by a small park caught your eye, causing a soft smile to appear on your face. That park was always where you two would hang out when you wanted to be just the two of you. Walking closer, however, the smile quickly disappeared as you realized the “couple” was none other than Oikawa himself with one of his persistent fans he told you not to worry about. ‘Maybe they’re just hanging out as friends,’ or at least that’s what you told yourself as you squinted and kept walking.

Picking up your pace you got closer, now being able to see their faces more clearly in the dimly lit park only to watch them kiss, the girl’s arms around his neck while Oikawa’s hand slid up her thigh. You didn’t know what to do, so you just stood there in shock as silent tears began to fall down your face. Almost as if you were in a trance, you reached into your pocket and took out your phone, dialing his number as you saw the brunette react.

He looked down surprised at his phone screen as he scooted apart from the girl and picked up the call as if it was nothing. “Hey beaut-” he started to say before you cut him off, not having the strength to hear his happy tone. “How could you?!” you sobbed angrily into the phone as his face became anxious. “What’s wrong babe?” How could he try to play it off as if he had no idea?

“You lying, cheating, son of a bitch! We’re over,” you yelled angrily, hanging up right as his eyes met yours. You were close enough to see the horrified and heartbroken expression on his face, but before he could say anything you turned around and just ran. Grabbing the straps of your backpack you sprinted back down the streets, your vision blurry with tears as your (h/c) hair was pushed back by the wind. It was only when you were back at the bus station and were sure that Oikawa was nowhere to be seen that you stopped and realized; you didn’t know where to go next.

You could go to your Karasuno friends, but you weren’t in the mood to hear “I told you so” and couldn’t go home to not worry your family. As you sat there and looked at the screen blankly, tears continuing to fill your eyes, a notification appeared. ‘Hey loser, how’s the trip going?’ you read as your eyes looked at Iwa’s name by the message. He was your best shot, you were close and he wouldn’t judge, so without opening your phone again and ignoring all of Oikawa’s calls you jogged over to Iwaizumi’s place.

After ringing the apartment and hiding your teary and now out of breath voice in the intercom, Iwa’s mom buzzed you in, and once you got to his floor you were greeted by Iwaizumi looking concerned, more so once he saw the state you were in. “(y/n), are you ok?” Iwaizumi asked as he walked over to you, hugging you as you hid in his arms and sobbed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go. It’s Oikawa,” you explained as he nodded and got you inside. He made some tea and brought it with you two to his room, both of you sitting on his bed. “Ok, what did Shittykawa do now?” he asked as he looked up at you and handed over a warm mug. “D- did you know h-he was cheating on me?” you managed to stutter out between sobs, trying to sound collected but being embarrassed by your inability to do so.

“He- wHAT?!” His reaction startled you, and when you looked up from the cup and saw his horrified, furious expression it made you feel less like you were overreacting. “I- the trip got postponed to Saturday morning, so I went to surprise him to his place and saw him in our bench making out with one of his fangirls,” you explained, watching as Iwa’s face became angrier and angrier, realizing how you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this, “I’m sorry I came to you, I know you’re best friends.”

Iwaizumi’s POV

Seeing them like this was already painful, but learning what Oikawa did was too much, Iwaizumi couldn’t believe how his friend could do this to (y/n). The spiker had never cared when he did stuff like this or worse than this to his fangirls. After all, he thought, they were the ones stupid enough to be blinded by his charm, but he never fathomed Oikawa would be able to do something like that to someone as great as you. “What? Hey, don’t even dare apologize,” he stated firmly as he took both mugs and set them by the bedside table, hugging (y/n) tightly and feeling them snuggle into him as they cried. Seeing them like this killed him. ‘Fuck Oikawa,’ he thought to himself, ‘if before I had stayed out of the way because they were good for each other that’s no longer the case.’

“I’m so sorry he did this to you; I should have stopped him. If I had known I would have, I should have been paying more attention,” the ace rambled into (y/n)’s hair as they cried softly, getting angry at himself before being interrupted by them pushing themselves away from him gently to look up at his face. “Why are you apologizing as if this was your fault? Iwa, he’s the one who’s an asshole, not you,” they stated, wiping a tear from their face.

“Because,” was he really going to say this? Screw it, here goes nothing, he told himself before continuing, “I knew you deserved better than him, but I convinced myself he would be different with you because I saw how good you were to him, and how happy you looked.” (y/n) just looked at him, mouth slightly ajar as they seemed to process what the boy had said. He couldn’t take the silence anymore so to avoid the blush he felt was beginning to appear on his cheeks he asked; “so did you dump him?” They nodded, looking down at their cup of tea as they chuckled and replied; “on the spot, over the phone.”

Iwaizumi chuckled back, releasing some of the nerves; “serves him right.” They smiled weakly at his comment and absentmindedly ran their fingers through their hair, My god were they gorgeous, Hajime thought to himself, only then realizing it was the first time it was just the two of them in his room, suddenly becoming self-conscious. Calm down, he told himself while taking a deep breath, looking over at (y/n). 'They just broke up with their boyfriend, being here with you is their last concern,' or so he thought. “Do you… want to watch (favorite movie) and eat ice cream?” the spiker suggested after thinking for a moment, he knew that was their favorite movie, and ice cream helps get over jerks, right?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

[lillywillow]

Tina

Summary: Being a plus sized girl wasn’t easy but having someone like Sam Wilson in your life made things a lot better

 Word Count: 1483

 Square Filled: Home Alone

 Pairings: Sam Wilson x Plus Sized!Female Reader

 Warnings: Body insecurities, some bullying about reader’s size (not from Sam), mild adult themes

 A/N: If your name is Tina, please feel free to pretend all mentions of the name Tina is either Tina Jr. or something else.

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

 The world wasn’t kind to plus sized women. You would often have people make cracks about your weight, telling you to lose it or making fun of you in general. What these people didn’t understand was that it wasn’t just easy for you to lose weight because of underlying health issues like your thyroid and other problems that caused your size to fluctuate. Your number one sense of support came from your roommate and best friend, Sam Wilson. Whenever you wanted to diet, he was there alongside you and if you wanted to exercise, he would spot you at the gym. If fell off the wagon and just wanted to eat junk food and watch TV, he was cool with that too. Sam would never push you into something you didn’t want to do and would always encourage you to do whatever felt right for your body.

You were currently at home by yourself as Sam had gone out for the night to spend some time with the boys. As you were currently in an ‘off’ period, you were situated in front of the TV with your junk food watching a movie. As you watched the people on the screen, your insecurities started to get the better of you. Sighing, you lifted your shirt to look at your midsection. Stretchmarks streaked across your skin; some red, angry and new, others silvery and faded with time. You poked at the soft flesh, pinching at your love-handles between your fingers and thumb, examining how your belly jiggled when you gave it a gentle pat. Had Sam been home, there was no way in hell you would be exposing yourself in such a way.

 “Would you like some food, Tina?” you asked your tummy.

 “Mmm, yes! Feed me!” you said in a different voice, putting a Cheeto in your bellybutton. “Nom, nom, nom!”

 You moved the area around your bellybutton as if your stomach was ‘eating’ the chip.

 “Y/N?”

 You jumped to your feet at the sudden voice, knocking over the coffee and sending snacks flying. Slowly, you turned around to see Sam staring at you.

 “What the hell are you doing?”

 “Um...” you brushed some crumbs away and pulled your top down. “You got me. It’s Friday night and I’ve got nothing better to do...”

 “I see...”

 “I didn’t expect you home so soon...”

 “The night was a bust. Most of the guys either hooked up, got drunk or called away,” he replied.

 Sam walked over to help you clean up the array of fallen snacks.

 “So... do you do this often when I’m not here?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

 “No, uh... you caught me in a bit of a weird moment...”

 Once the snacks had been cleaned up, Sam joined you on the couch, eating the food you were able to salvage. A somewhat awkward silence fell over the pair of you before Sam finally broke it.

 “So... Tina?”

 “Yep, Tina the talking tummy.”

 “Does Tina... like to eat?”

 “She does... not always like that, but the girl does like her food... she also talks to me, demanding food...”

 Sam grinned a little. He knew how insecure you were about your tummy so he enjoyed seeing you come out of your shell a little to talk about it.

 “You, um... you won’t tell anyone about... Tina, will you?”

 “If you don’t want me to tell anyone, then I won’t. Anything that makes you happy,” he said, casually putting his arm around you and popping a Cheeto into his mouth.

 You couldn’t help but blush. The truth was, you had developed a major crush on Sam but felt like you couldn’t do anything about it. He was absolutely gorgeous, both physically and his personality. Sam could have any woman he wanted... so why would he want you?

 “Y/N?” Sam’s voice pulled you out of your negative thinking.

 “Yeah?”

 “How about I order the three of us a pizza?”

 “The three of us?”

 “Yeah, you, me and Tina,” he winked. You playfully rolled your eyes.

 “I think Tina would like that,” you smiled.

 You realised that this was a private joke that wasn’t going away anytime soon.

...

 A week later, you had gone on a blind date a friend had set up for you. By the time you came home, you were in an absolutely terrible mood.

 “How was your date?” Sam questioned from his spot on the sofa.

 “The stupid most embarrassing thing happened!” you snarled, throwing your purse and sitting next to him of the couch with your face in your hands. Sam put his arm around you to comfort you.

 “What happened?”

 “Tina made an appearance...”

 “Oh, she did, did she?”

 “Yeah... so the dinner was going well at first, he seemed really into me... then I felt this horrible rolling feeling. I look down and Tina had escaped my Spanx. She was sitting there like ‘Yo, Y/N, introduce me’,” you said in your ‘Tina’ voice. “I never felt so humiliated.”

 “Then what happened?”

 “At first, my date didn’t notice but then he asked me to dance. I didn’t really want to but he pulled me onto my feet and onto the dance floor. He put his hand on my waist and well... his expression suddenly changed. I couldn’t read it... his whole personality changed and he became mean and nasty. Kept making digs about my weight. I paid for my meal and left...” By now you were in tears.

 Sam wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

 “It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t need jerks like that. You deserve a man who thinks you’re beautiful and can see how amazing you are.”

 “Yeah, right. Like I’m going to find one of those,” you scoffed.

 “You have one right here...” You looked up at him in surprise.

 “You... think I’m beautiful?”

 “I sure do. Every single day. From when you’re all dressed up to when you’re working out at the gym. I just think to myself... Damn, how has nobody snapped this woman up yet?”

 “I... I’m not...” you subconsciously covered your stomach. Sam took your hands and kissed them.

 “You are beautiful, Y/N. I know your struggles, how hard you work to take your weight into your own hands. Your size doesn’t matter. All that matters to me is that you’re happy. I love you.”

 “I love you too, Sam.”

 Sam smiled and gently pressed his lips to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he placed his hands on your waist. Unlike the guy you went on a date with, Sam’s touch was warm and inviting. Eventually, you had to pull away for air.

 “I also love Tina,” he grinned. You laughed and kissed him again, feeling a lot better about yourself and about Tina.

...

 A few weeks later, you and Sam were enjoying a date. He had taken you to an art gallery which featured plus sized women in the artwork, whispering in your ear how beautiful you were. As you were walking around, you were spotted by a group of youths. They were pointing and laughing at you, making rude gestures, sounds and remarks.

 “Hey!” You marched over to the group who made even more comments.

 “You see this? This is what a real man looks like,” you stated, pointing to your boyfriend. “He loves and respects women of all sizes. You boys would do well to learn from him.”

 The boys muttered as you walked away, still acting positively boorish. A few weeks ago, they would have gotten to you but since dating Sam, you felt like you could take on anything. You went up to Sam and kissed him deeply. The boys were in shock as Sam kissed back.

 “How about we go shopping and you can pick out some outfits that will look good on both me and Tina,” you quietly purred.

 “Damn, I love this woman!” Sam loudly proclaimed, the smile never leaving his face.

...

 Whenever you were with Sam, he made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He loved you with all his heart and furthermore, he completely accepting of Tina. To think, if he hadn’t caught you doing something so embarrassing when you thought you were alone, you may have never have gotten together. You still had your issues with your body image but with Sam by your side, you felt like you could take on the world.

[the-bau-quinjet]

the evolution of breaking up

Peter x Stark!reader

Summary: Snippets of you moving on from a bad breakup, frequently turning to your best friend, Peter.

Warnings: it's sad Taylor Swift hours, some choice words,

Word Count: 3252

a/n: inspired by a playlist called the evolution of breaking up that only has TS songs on it lol. Bold is direct or paraphrased lyrics

Masterlist

Peter is 90% sure he fell in love with you the day he met you.

He's 100% sure he fell in love with you within a week of knowing you.

Hell, he's so sure about it, he would tell you if not for one glaringly obvious problem: Jared.

Your boyfriend.

Your started dating Jared a few weeks before you met Peter. That is to say, a few weeks before Tony recruited Peter to join the Avengers.

Peter didn't have any problems with Jared, and he would never wish for you to get your heart broken, but he was definitely jealous.

It wasn't hard for him to love you. The two of you became fast friends. You always worked in the lab together, improving upon tech Tony already had or developing all new creations.

You also patrolled together. Peter had always enjoyed patrolling, but now that you went with him, time seemed to fly.

It was currently about 10:30 on a Friday about two and a half years after you and Peter met. You and Peter were supposed to patrol, but Tony said to take the night off for once.

You took the impromptu free time as the perfect opportunity to surprise Jared.

You left the tower around 5:30 and Peter hasn't heard from you since. Not that he expected to since you were going on a date. He was bored though.

Tony refused to let him tinker around in the lab, saying he needed a better work/life balance. He would've found the statement funny if it didn't feel so true.

He tried calling Ned, but he was out with Betty. MJ was busy with Brad, the two going to some horror movie marathon.

The only other person he really hung out with was you, and you were also on a date.

He wondered the various floors of the tower, looking for anything to do that would take his mind of you.

Eventually, he just set up camp in the shared living area, putting Star Wars on the massive TV and eating more popcorn than should be legal.

He was nearly asleep during Episode V when the ding of the elevator jolted him awake. Someone ran through the halls, quickly opening and closing the door to their room.

He sat up, intrigued by the behavior. As he walked down the hallway, he listened for any indication of someone else being there. Obviously whoever it was didn't want to talk, but that didn't mean he wasn't concerned.

He stopped outside your door, bringing his hand up to knock when he heard music softly playing through the door.

You told me you loved me, so why did you go away?

He froze with his fist raised, uneasy with the why you would put on such a sad song. His hand fell back to his side when he heard you sing along to the chorus.

"Never thought we'd have a last kiss. Never imagined we'd end like this."

The sound of you crying grew louder than the music, urging Peter to knock. He just wanted to make sure you knew he was there for you.

Hyping himself up, he knocked lightly. A few seconds later the music stopped. He listened as you shuffled toward the door, slowly pulling it open.

His heart broke at the sight of your puffy cheeks, red and tear stained.

"Hey Pete." You managed a small smile, happy to see your friend despite the less than stellar evening you had.

"Hey, I... you probably don't want to talk about it right now, but I'm here for when you do." He matched your small smile, trying not to make you feel any worse.

Apparently, he said the right thing because you pulled him into a bone crushing hug, burying your head in his chest as you cried.

He spent the next half hour rubbing your back as you cried, having moved to sit on the bed rather than stand in the doorway.

When your tears ended, he risked talking to you again.

"Did you want to talk about it tonight?" Peter was clearly unsure of himself in this situation.

You shook your head, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

"No, I... He just..." Tears pooled again, but you blinked them away. "He said forever and always, but I guess he didn't mean it."

Peter held you as you cried again, eventually falling asleep. He tucked you into your bed, placing a water bottle on your nightstand and shutting off the lights as he left.

-

The next few days, you spent mostly holed up in your room. You had a playlist of sad Taylor Swift songs on repeat, letting yourself wallow.

Peter was worried. Tony was worried. Nat, Steve, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Pepper, and Vision were worried.

"What'd she say when you talked to her?" The group questioned, all wanting nothing more than to cheer you up.

Peter sighed, wishing he had more information. "She just cried for like, 2 hours. Somewhere in the middle I asked if she wanted to talk, she said something about him not really meaning forever, and then she cried again."

They were all contemplating what to do when you walked in the room. Every pair of eyes were on you in an instant.

You sighed heavily, kind of glad you could address everyone at once. They've been like a family to you since you were born, so it only makes sense they would all be worried.

"Jared and I broke up." You felt like it was 2 and a half years wasted. You could feel the tightness in your throat threatening more tears, but you refused to cry over this boy any longer. "I'll be okay, I just... I remember it all too well right now."

You turned to your dad, eyes welling up again. "I'm sorry I ignored when you said to run as fast as I can from all the boys I ever met." You chuckled, trying to relieve the tension.

Tony pulled you into a tight hug. "You'll be okay again, princess." You nodded, leaning into the hug. Everyone ended up piling on, offering you words of comfort through the group hug.

-

A couple weeks later, and you honestly felt better. Not all the way, but enough to want to go out with friends again. You went roller skating with Peter, MJ, and Ned.

It was the next logical step, going out with friends. It made sense. It was working.

Until you saw him. Jared was there with some other girl, skating without a care in the world. Of course, he saw you. He had the audacity to smile and wave, as if he didn't just break your heart.

When he walked up to you, you knew you had enough.

"Don't you smile at me and ask me how I've been. Don't you say you've missed me if you don't want me again." You spit the words at him, trying to hide how much it hurt. You turned away from him, nearly running from the rink before you even put the skates on.

You friends followed you out, profusely denying the need for your abundant apologies.

Ned and MJ hugged you before leaving, figuring less people would be better for you. Peter took you back to the tower, trying to help soothe the lingering ache.

"I just don't understand." You whispered from the passenger side of the car. "Why would he want to break a perfectly good heart?"

Peter struggled to come up with an answer, knowing nothing he said would really fix it.

"You'll find someone else. Someone who won't break your heart." He settled on a vague nod toward the future, knowing anything else could lead to him potentially ruining your friendship.

Unbeknownst to Peter, his words broke your heart just a little more. You always had a soft spot for Peter, and the few weeks you've been broken up from Jared have made you see him in a new light.

Of course, you wouldn't make a move though. Not yet. You didn't want him to think he was just a rebound. He's your best friend. It's too important to mess up with feelings.

-

You woke up the next morning with a slew of messages from Jared.

This is me swallowing my pride... telling you I'm sorry for that night.

I go back to December all the time.

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you.

I'm wishing I realized what I had when you were mine.

You deleted them immediately, not wanting to fall back into his trap. Ultimately though, you decided to respond. You wanted to lay it all out that he missed his chance. You were over him, even if it still hurt.

I've lived, and I've learned. Had you, got burned. I'm over it, Jared. Leave me alone.

Then you deleted his contact and blocked the number. He couldn't just say those hurtful things to you and then pretend like it was a mistake. He meant every word he said that night, even if he doesn't believe it now.

-

Another week went by without incident. You were all smiles all the time, really moving on from him and the pain he put you through.

Then you got a letter. It looked like a card, so you figured it was an early Valentine's card.

Opening it up proved it to be just that.

The inside read:

"I don't wanna miss you like this. I don't wanna need you this way. Come back. Be here."

Signed from Jared with hearts.

Of course you chose to open the card as soon as you got it, with everyone watching.

Your expression fell as the words sank in, knowing he was still trying did weird things to your heart. It made you question everything. Did he really care about you? Was he just bored?

You stared at the card for what felt like an eternity before ripping it up and rolling your eyes.

Of course he doesn't care. Nobody who says to your face that they never loved you cares.

"What was that?" Wanda asked, curious about the mixture of emotions present on your face.

"A load of utter horse shit." You huffed a laugh as you threw away the pieces.

"Language!" Tony called, always taking the opportunity to tease Steve.

"Well it was!" You defended, eager to move on from the conversation. They all stared at you expectantly, clearly waiting for an explanation. "It was from Jared." You were glad Peter was sitting next to you. Just the mention of his name had him rubbing your back, trying to make it easier for you.

"You know, now that I'm sitting here thinking it through. I've never been anywhere cold as him."

You felt another group hug coming on, so you quickly excused yourself to shower, reassuring everyone that you were fine.

-

You were laying on the floor, feet up against the wall, just staring at the ceiling when Bucky and Peter walked into the gym to train with you.

"Hey, Y/N." Bucky called, a questioning look in his eyes.

"What's going on in your head?" Peter added, spelling out the question for you.

"I knew he was trouble when I met him." You answered him honestly. "And yet, I still said yes when he asked me out." You shook your head, still staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, hindsight is 20/20. Don't beat yourself up about it." Bucky chimed in, knowing how it feels to blame yourself for things that weren't your fault.

"Are you offering then?" You stood up, accepting Peter's hand to aid you. You brushed any lingering dirt from your clothes, laughing at Bucky's confused expression. "For me to beat you up instead?"

The three of you had a good laugh before you got to work training.

-

Three months post breakup and you're feeling great. At least, you're feeling great most of the time.

"Hey Y/N! What are you doing tonight?" Peter questioned as he walked up beside you in the lab, pulling out the tools he'll need.

"I don't know, nothing specific I guess." You try to remember any plans you had, but nothing comes to mind.

"Perfect. MJ, Ned, and I are going to go roller skating again. I thought maybe you'd wanna come?" He's clearly nervous, unsure if this would help or hinder your progress.

You nod your head, thinking it over. "You know what, I'm in." The determination in your voice catches Peter off guard.

"Cool, um, great. I guess you're doing better then?" He's still nervous, but eager to finally get you to fully open up to someone about everything.

"Yep. Anytime I get sad, I think of something shitty he did to remind me I'm better off." You smile, knowing he was going to ask for examples.

"Really? Like what?" You can't help but laugh lightly, enjoying how well you know Peter.

"Some vague things, like how he would look at me when he was annoyed. Like those eyes add insult to injury, you know?" He nods, but doesn't really understand.

"Or more specific examples, like that birthday party where you all kept asking me about him, and I made excuses, but truth is he just blew me off. That one honestly should've been the moment I knew."

"He did what?" Peter was livid, but trying to contain the rage to that of a concerned friend rather than jealous crush.

"Eh, I'm over it. It's pretty easy to focus on the bad aspects of the relationship when it ended so badly." You shrug, turning back to the circuit board you were working on.

"How, um, how exactly did it end?" He wondered aloud, knowing you hadn't fully told anyone yet. He watched as you tensed slightly before shaking it off.

"That's a story for another time Pete." You managed a tight smile, not wanting to delve into that conversation just yet.

-

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." You mumbled under your breath.

You had been skating with Peter, Ned, and MJ for about an hour when he walked in.

Peter followed your line of sight, trying to understand your mumbling. When his eyes caught sight of Jared, he panicked.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry! I really thought this would help you this time." He rubbed his hands down his face, silently cursing himself for putting you in this position again.

"Don't worry about it Pete. I'm more prepared to handle it this time around." You laughed, watching out of the corner of your eye as Jared approached you.

"Y/N... I, uh, I've been trying to talk to you." He started boldy, not really caring that you weren't even looking at him.

You did your best to ignore him, but he grabbed your arm to stop you from skating away.

"Y/N, come on-"

"No." You spit at him, not letting him get under your skin. "People like you always want back the love they pushed aside, but people like me are gone forever when you say goodbye."

You yanked your arm out of his hand, turning back to your friends. "Let's keep skating. I have no reason to run away."

Peter watched, bewildered as you confidently skated across the rink.

-

The morning of what would be your three year anniversary with Jared felt weird. You weren't upset anymore, but the lingering nostalgia of celebrating an anniversary clung to you.

You deleted the email reminding you of the plans you were supposed to have that evening.

You sighed heavily as you walked into the kitchen, still trying to clear your head.

"You good?" Peter questioned, easily spotting that something was off.

"Yeah, it's just... I don't miss him. At all. I'm over it, but today would've been our anniversary..."

Peter nodded, trying to understand what you were feeling.

"It's strange to think the songs we used to sing, the smiles, the flowers, everything... is gone." You told him the truth, trying not to hide your feelings.

Maybe you should be over it by now, but you spent the majority of your high school career with that guy. It sucks to think it was all a waste.

He pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back to comfort you.

"I mean, not to state the obvious, but I didn't get my perfect fantasy with Jared." You huffed, rolling your eyes.

"You'll find your perfect someone." He smiled, unaware of the fluttering in your stomach telling you that maybe you already had.

"Yeah, someone who won't say to my face that he never really loved me." You muttered, feeling the rage burn inside you again.

"He's an ass." You hugged him tighter, enjoyed the feeling of being in his arms.

-

Peter slowed as he walked past your door, listening as the songs changed. He recognized the intro as a song from folklore, but he wasn't sure exactly which one.

"I'm doing good. I'm on some new shit." You sang loudly unaware of listening ears outside the door.

Peter smiled, walking away so as not to interrupt your healing process again.

Meanwhile, you floated around your room, nearly screaming the along to the breakup songs as you finally rid yourself of any lingering items relating to Jared.

"But it's wonderful to see that it never phased you!" You grinned as you threw it all away, ready to fully move on.

-

When the elevator doors opened, Peter was assaulted with the blaring sounds of none other than Taylor Swift.

Apparently, you moved your dance party from your room to the living room, thinking you had the space to yourself for a little while.

He watched as you danced around the room, singing and smiling to your heart's content.

"So he calls me up, and he's like 'I still love you' and I'm like, "I'm just, this is exhausting you know, like..." You caught Peter's smile out of the corner of your eye, fully turning to look at him as you belted out the next line. "We are never getting back together. Like ever. Noooo."

You grab his hands, forcing him to dance and twirl around with you as the song comes to an end.

"I take it your really feeling better." Peter smiles, overjoyed to see you looking so exuberant.

"I am." You nod, keeping it simple.

"No more thoughts about Jared?" He questioned, smiling when you didn't even flinch at his name.

"Nope. I forgot that he existed." You smiled cheekily, still dancing although you turned the music down.

"That's good, then." Peter smiled, suddenly nervous. If you truly had moved on, maybe now was his chance.

"Hey Pete?" You questioned, smiling shyly.

"Yeah?" He stood in front of you, unsure of where this was going.

"I realized something this morning." You whispered, nervous for his response, but dying to tell him the truth.

"Yeah?" He waited, eager to know what you were hiding.

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back, watching as he slowly grinned.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked, stunned but grinning like an idiot.

"'Cause, I like you," you smiled, but quickly added 'but I know that it's delicate."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that." He stated, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"No?" You leaned into his touch, feeling like you were on cloud nine.

"Nope. Cause I like you too."

He pulled you in for a deeper kiss, celebrating the beginning of this new stage of your relationship.

Permanent tag list:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman

[plaidbooks]

Witness Protection - part 2

A/N: And here’s the conclusion (for now)! I didn’t do the reunion with the squad, but if anyone wants that, I could. Again, I split the story in two, so this takes place right after last part. Hope you enjoy!

Part 1

Tags: none

Words: 2716

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy  @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867  @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandblacktea @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas  @qvid-pro-qvo @averyhotchner

There weren’t a whole lot of applicants—most people worked at the grocery store or in one of the other little shops in town. But Mike’s eyes lit up when one day, you came in, resumé in your hand.

“Hello! I hope you’re still looking for help? I’d like to apply,” you said, a bright smile on your face.

Mike grinned back, holding his hand out for your resumé. He scanned it quickly, noticing your name, the fact that you were close in age, and seeing that you’ve worked in customer service before.

“I am, yes. Tell me; do you know the difference between a mystery novel and a thriller?” he asked. He wasn’t going to throw you—or anyone—into that position like Gerry had to him. He’d vet you at least a little bit first.

You scrunched up your face as you thought about it, and Mike thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. “Well, I don’t have a dictionary definition for you, but in my opinion, mystery novels are more of a…whodunit. It’s the puzzles, the twists and turns until the villain is revealed at the end. Thriller is more…the game between the protagonist and villain. It focuses more on the tension, rather than figuring out who the killer is.”

Mike blinked in surprise. “That’s actually…you’re dead on. And seeing as you’re the only one who gave me a straight answer, I think you’re perfect for the job.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, your hopes soaring.

Mike nodded. “It’ll be working every day, but I’ll let you choose if you want morning or afternoon shift. Either way, I can only pay $15 an hour. If business keeps steady, though, I may be able to give you a raise down the line.”

“What’re the hours?” you queried. The pay would be fine for your little house. Plus, the owner was waaay too cute.

Mike blushed. “Right, that would be useful information, wouldn’t it?” You laughed and he chuckled. “Morning shift is 8am until 1pm. Afternoons are noon until 5pm. I don’t mind working either shift, so it’s entirely up to you and what you can do.”

“Mornings work perfectly fine for me,” you replied, smiling. You were an early bird, anyways.

Mike gave you another bright grin. “Excellent. Come back at 8am tomorrow morning, and I’ll show you the jobs the morning shift does. And welcome aboard.”

 ***********************

Hiring you turned out to be the best choice Mike could’ve made. You caught on quickly; by the second day, Mike didn’t even need to be there training you anymore. You were great with customers, quick with a joke, and were incredibly well-read. Like him, you often filled the empty time with reading. Though, it was less time than Mike had when working for Gerry; you had to make the coffee and tend to the bakery goods, rearranging them when things sold. And with the higher volume of people, books were left on shelves randomly, making you put them in their correct place.

But the best contribution you made was your own pastries. You told Mike you enjoyed baking, and you brought him in a cupcake one day. It was probably the best thing Mike had ever tasted in his life.

“…would you be willing to sell your confections here? I can’t give you extra time off, not unless I hire someone else. But we can have a limited amount, and once they sell out for the day, they’re out—”

“I’d love to,” you replied, smiling. “Maybe not every day, but I usually make a batch of a dozen in my free time. I could always do two dozen, or a dozen of one thing, a dozen of something else.”

Mike nodded. “How about we start off slow, only selling things on Sunday? And if it turns out to be too much work for you, we can stop.”

“Sounds like a deal, boss man.”

 ************************

Your Sunday Special Treats became so popular, that it was obvious one day wasn’t going to cut it. You’d open the store at 8am with two dozen cookies, and they’d be gone within an hour. It got to the point where you’d show up at your normal 7:30am, and there would be a crowd by the doors, eagerly asking which treats you brought in that day. After discussing with Mike, you agreed to bake for both Sunday and Wednesday, for a mid-week treat.

Mike even offered to come by your place after he closed the shop to help you bake, if you wanted another pair of hands.

“Just so you know, though, I’ve never baked a day in my life,” he said, chuckling.

But he was so damn cute, and you were kind of hoping for more than a work relationship with him. Which is why you replied, “I’d appreciate all the help I can get. I can teach you.”

 ************************

It became a biweekly routine. Tuesday and Saturday nights, Mike would come to your place, around 6pm. You would be just starting baking, and he’d wash his hands before jumping in with you. At first, it was a struggle for him to figure out what to do with all the ingredients in front of you. You handwrote all your recipes—recipes passed down through generations of your family—and Mike followed them to the letter.

“The thing with baking, like cooking, you can add a little bit of this or that if it needs it, whether it’s in the recipe or not,” you told him one night.

He gave you a smirk. “But I don’t know when something needs a little this or that.”

“You’ll get it; you’re incredibly smart, Mike.”

He ducked his head, but you saw his cheeks turn a bright pink, a grin on his face.

Working so close together, not just baking, but in the bookstore as well, it was no shock that you fell head over heels for the sweet man. And it was no surprise when he fell just as hard for you. Both of you were afraid of the implications and the power play of Mike being your boss. But it never felt like a boss/employee relationship. It was always just…a partnership.

Eventually, you stopped eating dinner before he showed up, instead offering to make dinner for him. He stopped picking things up to eat on the way to your place, opting to have dinner with you, whether homemade or takeout, it didn’t matter.

One night, you were feeling playful, and you flicked flour into Mike’s face. He gave you a look of disbelief before breaking into a grin. He threw a pinch back into your face, and you let out a laugh so pure, it had Mike’s heart melting. He was leaning against the counter next to you, close enough that your clothes were touching. Your laughter came to an end, and you glanced into his face, smiling at the white powder on his nose and cheeks.

You couldn’t say who leaned in first, but soon enough, your lips were brushing against his before he pushed his more forcefully against yours. One of Mike’s hands went to cup the back of your head, and you grabbed his shirt, holding him to you.

Suddenly, the timer dinged loudly, and you gently pulled away from him, giving him a small smile before going to pull the brownies from the oven. You didn’t mind being interrupted, though; it was the first kiss of many that you would share with Mike Jones.

 ***********************

It was like you were both on the fast track in your relationship. You dated for only a few months before you found a house together. You both ran the shop, Mike raising your pay—while cutting his—until you were equal. And you never thought you could be more in love with someone in your life.

One day, Mike told you that he wanted the shop closed on the next Saturday. When you asked why, he said that he needed to have an important talk with you on Friday night, and that he wanted a free day afterwards; so that you didn’t have to be in bed early, and you had time to process things. He had seemed nervous, and it wasn’t the first time it felt like there was something on his mind while he was with you.

You were slightly worried, but also excited; was he going to propose? You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you had no other explanation to what this talk could be.

Mike came home after closing the shop on Friday evening, carrying takeout in a plastic bag. You greeted him with a kiss, and he gave you a smile. But you could see the nerves and concern in his eyes. After scooping food into a bowl, you both sat at the dining table in the kitchen.

“What I have to say isn’t…easy. And I must stress that it doesn’t leave this house, ever,” he started.

You nodded. “Whatever it is, I’m sure nothing will change, Mike.”

He sighed, closing his eyes. “My last name isn’t Jones. It’s Dodds.”

“What? All this is about a name change—”

“It’s more than that. I—I’m in witness protection.”

You sat there, stunned into silence as Mike gave you his entire life story. He gave you every little detail about himself, about growing up in New York City, about his overbearing father and his career in the Army, boxing, and the NYPD. He told you about his parent’s divorce, about his brother’s drug problems. He told you about his fiancée, about how the hit out on him was probably one of the best things that ever happened to him.

“I miss my family and squad, will always miss them. But until the Western Italian Mafia is dealt with, I can’t go home. And that syndicate is huge; I doubt I ever could go home.” He let out a small chuckle. “After meeting you, though, I don’t know if I want to go home, either.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Why did you tell me all this?” you muttered, conscious of how loud you were talking. “Aren’t you supposed to keep it secret?”

“Technically, yes. Only the FBI and that doctor who pronounced me dead knows. But I…I couldn’t give you all of myself until I gave you, well, all of myself,” he explained, his expression pleading.

You felt goosebumps on your arms. “You really trust me that much?”

“Darling,” he said, shaking his head. He took your hands in his. “I trust you with my life. You’re it, the end game for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Tears sprung up in your eyes. “I don’t care if your name is Mike Jones, or Dodds, or anything! I love you, and only you. I want to grow old with you, too.”

The widest grin stretched across his face before he got up from his chair. He came around the table and kneeled in front of you, releasing your hands to cup your face. He used his thumbs to brush the tears from your face before pulling you to him in a kiss full of love and passion.

You leaned back slightly. “You’re safe here in California, right?”

“I should be, yes.”

You nodded. “Good, because I don’t want to lose you. And I’d fight a mafia for you.”

Mike huffed out a laugh, and you tugged him back in for another kiss.

 *****************

Something that Mike learned a few months later was that his driver’s license and birth certificate were enough of an ID to get married. It was a small ceremony, just you, Mike, and your parents. You both agreed that Mike’s parents had both already passed, and he was an only child. Mike got to wear a tuxedo once more, and he dimly thought about what it would’ve been like to marry Alice back in Manhattan. But then he saw you in your simple dress, and those thoughts faded away. He had never been happier as he stood next to you, signing the marriage license, then bringing you in for a tender kiss. For legal reasons, you decided to keep your last name, but that didn’t stop him from calling you Mrs. Jones, or wifey.

 *****************

It took only a month after your wedding for you to wind up pregnant. Both you and Mike were over the moon with excitement and joy. He built the nursery in your home while you made a list of baby names. You were set to have a little boy, and Mike’s only contribution was to veto William and Matthew.

“I don’t want to think about my old family—” he started, but you held up a hand.

“I understand. But what about as a middle name?”

He thought about it. “I guess that’s okay…. Have you chosen a first name yet?”

You smiled softly. “I’m thinking about my father’s name, Phillip. What do you think?”

“I like it. Which do you like more; Phillip William, or Phillip Matthew?” For the same legal reasons, Phillip would have your last name, rather than Mike’s fake one.

You gave him a look. “I chose the first name; this one is on you. Besides, I like them both.”

“You’re a lot of help,” Mike teased, chuckling.

 ******************

Eight months later, Phillip Matthew was born, happy and healthy. He was absolutely perfect, and neither you nor Mike could be prouder or more in love with him. Of course, you both had closed the bookstore for a week while you were in labor and afterwards, both of you doting on your newborn. And when Mike went back to work, it was for limited hours. The town was understanding, almost overtly so.

In fact, you never had to buy diapers—at least for the first few months. Your neighbors gifted you diapers, clothes, food, anything you could happen to need. The bookstore’s hours change to 8am until noon. Then it closed for an hour and reopened until 5pm. Mike worked mornings now; you were busy with Phillip and pumping milk for the afternoon. Then he’d come home, and you’d eat lunch together before you went to the bookstore, leaving Mike to watch and play with Phillip. It was a perfect arrangement, and you were both happy and in love.

Time seemed to fly by; soon enough, Phillip was crawling, then standing, then walking. He was a Daddy’s boy through and through, always following him around the house. His first word was “dada,” and Mike started taking Phillip with him on his evening jogs—he didn’t take morning jogs anymore, instead wanting to spend his mornings with you and Phillip. And when Phillip saw Mike working out, he would attempt to copy him, much to your amusement and worry.

One day, Mike was doing pushups in the living room, and Phillip couldn’t look away. He was still just under two-years-old, and he got down on his knees. You came into the room just in time to watch Phillip, on hands and knees, slam his face into the ground in an attempt at a pushup. You gasped and went to make sure he was alright, but Mike held up a hand, watching his son intently. Instead of crying, Phillip looked up at his father, waiting for praise.

“That was great, Phil. But try not to hit your head on the ground,” Mike said slowly, as if Phillip would understand what he was saying.

Mike got back in a pushup position, and Phillip followed. “Watch me, big guy,” he muttered, slowly going down to the ground. Phillip mimicked, eyes wide and locked on his dad’s grinning face. And when he pushed back up to his knees, Mike’s smile grew.

“Honey, did you see that?! Our little man did a pushup!” Mike announced, moving to sit and pulling Phillip into his lap, hugging him and murmuring encouragement.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “I can’t believe you’re having him do pushups with you. You’re going to make him a bodybuilder by five!”

Mike guffawed, picturing it. “Nah—I can get him there by age three.”

You grinned, gazing at your happy family while Mike rolled onto his back, holding Phillip at arm’s length above him.

[ethereal-bang]

Strawberries and Red Wine

Characters: Minho x fem reader

Words: 4.8k 

Type: SMUT, dilf!minho, some fluff

Warnings: slight hard dom themes, unprotected sex (always wear a condom!), oral (male receiving) 

THE FIRST OF THE DILF!SKZ SERIES IS FINALLY HERE!! 

This contains mature content and is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18. 

“No, Mina what did I tell you we do NOT pull people’s hai- wait, BENJAMIN, where did you get that frog from?!? Let it go!!” You scramble around the classroom as you try and control the chaos that is your 4s classroom. Being the lead teacher in a room full of toddlers is nowhere near easy, but you’ve always had an affinity for kids. It started out with babysitting your cousins on the weekends, then volunteering as a counselor at summer camp. Eventually it led to you, taking early education classes in college and graduating with a degree in Early Childhood Education. Now, you find yourself here, making sure these kids keep the sand IN the sand box, for the third time this week. 

No matter how frustrated you got, though, you could never get genuinely angry. They’re just babies, after all. They have no real concept of right and wrong (or object permanence for that matter), therefore their decision making skills are ~slightly~ off. Plus, they look so cute with their innocent, bright smiles and big eyes. How could you not love them?

The day is just about over, and you’re trying to get everything as clean as possible before the kids leave, that way you don’t have to stay too late to finish it all. It’s Friday, and the thought of going home to your quiet apartment for some much needed me time is all you’re thinking about as you wipe down the snack table. You survey the other children to make sure no one is causing trouble, and you smile as you take in the sight of everyone (finally) sitting in their assigned seats, various hobbies distracting them as they wait for their parents to arrive.

You hear a slight crash, and a teeny tiny voice accompany it. 

“Shit!”

That single word, coming from such a small mouth catches you off guard. You want to laugh-- but you know better than to encourage it. Shocked expression on your face, you walk over to the table where the two girls are playing Jenga. The tower has been knocked down, and you can only assume that the expletive was said by the loser of the game. A sweet little girl, brown hair almost nearing her waist and big eyes that still held stars in them, was looking up at you in confusion. “Now sweetie, where did you learn that word from?” You ask incredulously. 

The way she was looking at you screamed innocence, her smile never faltering. “From my daddy! He said it when he dropped the casserole on the ground the other night. But it’s okay! He ordered us a pizza instead!” She says and you can’t help but giggle, while simultaneously making a note to speak to the girl’s father. Kids tend to overshare way too much, and it reminds you of all the crazy things you’ve heard over the years-- those poor parents. 

Before you know it, the day has ended and it’s time to walk the children outside. Calling your students to form a line at the door, you double check for backpacks and blankies and stuffed animals. Once everyone (and everything) is settled, you lead the children outside to their parents who are standing with open arms, ready to have their babies back with them for the night. The sight is always so endearing, the little ones getting overly excited and jumping into their parents’ arms. As you watch everyone begin to leave, you notice a certain brunette toddler waddling up to her father, who scoops her up into his arms and immediately puts her on his shoulders.

She looks like him, the way that his eyes seem to shine reminiscent of the sparkle you get to see in hers every morning. He’s rocking her back and forth as she’s sat atop him, her giggles ringing out through the daycare’s playground and bringing a sense of calm and happiness to the air. Making your way over to the two of them, your breath catches in your throat when you realize the height difference between the two of you. He’s at least a head taller than you, making you feel small as you get his attention. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lee? Would it be okay if I had a word with you for just a moment?” You ask him quietly. 

He looks at you, and you can feel your heartbeat skip when a small smile graces his lips. Taking his daughter off of his shoulders, he ushers her over toward another parent, and the child runs off with Kim Seungmin and his daughter, with promises of ice cream from the truck down the road. “Absolutely, is everything okay Ms….?” He says, realizing (embarrassingly) that he’s never gotten your name. “Y/N! My name is Y/N.” You say with a smile, and he nods, wanting to commit your name to memory.

Minho has seen you day in and day out, greeting the kids in the morning at drop off, and bringing them outside to release to their parents. He’s spoken to you maybe once? Maybe twice? He really wasn’t sure, but something about your soft smile and the way you take care of the children is hitting him differently today. He has a mix of curiosity and slight panic running through his system, afraid his daughter had gotten into big trouble. She’s his whole world, and although raising her on his own definitely isn’t easy, it’s just as equally rewarding. She’s just like him, her personality so big and so funny for someone so little. 

“Everything is okay! I just wanted to tell you, your daughter did something today...” you started, and you can see the look in his eyes shift from panic to humor as you explain the situation from earlier today. He chuckles a little once you finish speaking, and you’re laughing too. “Ah, oh my goodness I am so sorry…” he trails off. “It’s alright, Mr. Lee, dont wo-” “Minho,” he cuts you off. “You can call me Minho,” he says, and you nod your head in agreement. “It’s okay, Minho. It actually was pretty funny..just be a little more careful around her, okay?” You giggle, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks blush pink.

After that, talking to Minho when he came to pick up his daughter became a daily occurrence. It was never for long, maybe two or three minutes of conversation at a time, but it was something you looked forward to. He seemed so carefree, always coming in with a smile on his face. Each day his little girl runs to him and demands to be put on his shoulders, and he always obliges. 

It would be a lie to say you didn’t form some type of crush on the man in question. You would find yourself hiding your smile after every little interaction, and you weren’t sure how to feel about the fact that you fell for him so easily. It had been a long time since you had decided to focus on your love life, so every time you get those butterflies in your chest you’re unsure of how to react. 

Minho, on the other hand, is absolutely smitten. He never took this kind of interest in his daughter’s teachers before. He couldn’t explain it, but the feeling he gets when he witnesses his little girl run up to hug you in the mornings as you head to class fills him with a lighthearted emotion. Plus, the more he spoke to you, the more he came to find out that the two of you are fairly similar. He knew that he needed to take you out on a date. It was the only thing he could think about.

Would it be inappropriate? Absolutely. For as long as you were her teacher, there was no way he’d be able to openly express his feelings. So, he waits. He keeps his feelings at bay for the remainder of the year, waiting for summer to come so he can ask you out on an actual date. And when he does, it’s in the most unexpected way possible.

You see, Minho had a plan. Your birthday was coming up soon, and he was going to get you a small gift and a card with some cheesy pick up line, asking you to do him the honor of going to dinner with him. His daughter, however, has a (very unfiltered) mind of her own.

The summer months were in full swing, the heat and humidity taking over the town as people rode their bikes through the streets, and everyone who drove a car with their windows down, music playing at full volume. It was one of your favorite things about summer, you loved seeing everyone enjoying themselves, alongside the nostalgic feeling of freedom that comes with the warmer weather. This is why you decide one Saturday morning to get up early and head to the Farmer’s Market. The big, open air market held fond memories from your childhood, and going there to shop for your groceries became a stress reliever for you ever since you started college. The older women selling produce were the sweetest, always giving you free samples when you came round. 

Today was one of those days, the smells of spices and different street foods filling your noose as you looked at some apples at a produce stand. You pick up what seems like the perfect apple. Round, shiny, no bruises anywhere. That is, until you feel a little someone bump into your legs. 

The apple falls to the ground when you’re knocked over, and you hear a small, familiar voice give you an apology. It’s almost a shock when you hear Minho’s voice, too, as you turn around. “Oh my god, miss, I am so...Y/N?” He apologizes, stopping in his tracks when he realizes that it’s you who is standing in front of the two of them. “Oh! Minho, hello! And hi there sweetheart! It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me,” you say in a small voice, dropping down to her level so you can meet her eyes. “But I made you drop your apple! I’m really sorry,” she pouts, and your heart absolutely melts at the sweetness. “It’s okay, I can just get another one! Why don’t you help me pick it out, yeah?” You ask, and her eyes light up with their familiar brightness. 

She nods her head furiously and you laugh, picking her up when she raises her arms. You hold her on your hip and lean down just enough for her to grab a new apple to put in your bag. On the sidelines, Minho is trying so hard not to die at the sight in front of him. His daughter looks so happy, and so do you, bonding over the differences between the fruits. He just smiles as he watches in the interaction.

“This one looks perfect! Don’t you agree, sweetie?” You ask the little girl, and she giggles and takes it from your hands. “Yeah! Daddy, look at the apple~~” she says, and Minho’s attention is brought back to the girl in your arms. “Y-yes pumpkin, it looks really perfect! Red apples are a lot sweeter than green apples, they’re your favorite right? Why don’t we get some too?” Minho rambles rather quickly, and it makes you laugh as you watch him clumsily put some apples into a produce bag and hand money to the lady working at the register. 

Once you also pay for your apples, Minho invites you to come have lunch with the two of them in the picnic area. You can’t bring yourself to tell them no, so you follow them to an area of grass that is filled with families eating, playing and just enjoying the summer weather. You and Minho help his daughter with her lunch, all the while enjoying the time together, as well. It had been a while since you’d seen each other, because the little girl was no longer in your 4’s class. You spent a few hours with the two of them, and when it was time to go, his little girl scrambles into your lap before you can even make a move to get up.

“I figured something out!” She says, proudly. “Yes, dear, what is it?” Minho asks her, and you crane your head to look over at her. “I think daddy likes you, Miss Y/N,” she blurts out. Your cheeks turn pink, and Minho starts stuttering. “W-what makes you think that, love?” You ask her, and she shrugs her head, completely unbothered by the fact that the two of you look like you’ve been caught, even though nothing has happened.

“Well,” she says, determined. “Daddy talks reaaaallyyyy fast when he talks about me, or soonie doongie and dori, because he likes us a lot. And he does the same thing when he talks to you, or talks about you. I just figured that because he talks fast like that, it must mean he really likes you. Because daddy talks reeeaaally fast about you.” She says, and then goes back to eating a strawberry out of the container that Minho brought with him. The blush on your cheeks turns even darker, and Minho’s face isn’t too far behind, either. 

“Aaah, I see. You must be really smart to have figured that out, huh?” You ask her as you laugh, trying to make your nervousness go away. Minho has since taken interest in his hands, not being able to look you in the eye. “Well,” you start, getting the girl’s attention. You lean in close, but still far enough away that Minho can hear, too. “I think that I like your daddy just as much,” You “whisper” in her ear. Her eyes go wide, and Minho’s face shoots up from looking at his hands. “Really?!” The girl squeals, and you just smile and pat her head. 

“Really.”

The three of you wander the market for a little while longer, before you notice Minho’s daughter getting sleepy. Once she asks Minho to pick her up, he carries her on his back and she’s out cold within two minutes. He laughs at the snoring toddler, and looks down at the ground before he looks at you. “Did you mean it?” he asks, and you feel your heart explode when you look into his eyes. “About liking me, did you really mean it?” He repeats, and you can’t bring yourself to hide the truth anymore. “Mhm, I did mean it.” You say quietly. His smile brightens ten fold, and if he wasn’t hauling a sleeping child on his back, he would’ve taken your hand. “Well in that case, would it be out of pocket to ask you over for dinner this weekend? She’s going to a slumber party at Seungmin’s house, so we can have an actual conversation,” he asks sheepishly.

“I would love that.”

__________

The rest of the week flies by, and you can feel the nerves gathering in your stomach as you arrive at Minho’s house. Walking inside, it’s exactly how you could imagine it to be. It’s cozy, and you can definitely tell that a toddler lives there. Toys are in the living room corner, stacked neatly next to a two story dollhouse. Sippy cups align the kitchen sink, and you see cat shaped sandwich cutters sitting in the dish drainer. The sight makes you smile, as you remember cooing over the cute shapes at lunch time. 

Minho looks absolutely stunning, you think to yourself. He’s dressed casually, but his button down shirt makes his shoulders look broad and the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows makes your knees feel weak. He greets you with a warm smile and a small hug, leading you into the kitchen. He really pulled out all the stops for this-- candles at the center of the dining table, two glasses with red wine sitting next to empty plates as he brings the food to the table. “Wow, this looks amazing,” you tell him as you take a seat across from him, sipping your wine. “Thank you, I really hope you like it,” he laughs.

Dinner goes well, just as you expected it to. The two of you never run out of things to talk about, and the wine is definitely helping the two of you loosen up a little bit. Once dinner is over, you insist that you help with the dishes. Minho tries to decline, but you bump him out of the way with your hip, picking up a towel to dry the clean dishes with. He laughs and mimics the action, except his arm wraps around your waist in an attempt to catch you if you fall over. You feel electricity shoot through you at the action, and you turn to face him as you laugh.

He doesn’t let go, and the look in his eyes has you dropping your towel onto the kitchen counter. The air in the room feels charged, and you can’t help but reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. Everything just felt natural, with him. Like you were supposed to be this way all along. His other hand drops the dish he was holding into the sink, and he decides to wrap it around your waist instead. The feeling of finally being encapsulated in his arms makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

The two of you stay like that, for just a moment longer. It's Minho who breaks the silence first, tightening his hold on you. “Is it..is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks softly. The action is so sweet, you smile as you pull him closer to you. “Please,” you ask, right before his lips crash onto yours. The kiss is soft, slow, everything you could have wanted. His lips still taste like the wine you’ve been drinking, and it makes you want to deepen the kiss. So you do. 

Minho feels your tongue at his lips, and he immediately grants you entrance but quickly gains dominance over you. A hand of his moves from your waist up into your hair as he pushes you into the kitchen counter. Your hands roam his body, his broad shoulders and toned arms feeling like heaven under your fingertips. When your hands find his hair, you tug on it slightly and that’s enough to prompt Minho to lift you onto the counter. He’s standing between your legs, his hands falling to your hips once again. He traces light circles into the skin under your sweater as you start trailing kisses down his neck.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” you say breathily, and it makes Minho chuckle. “You really want this?” He asks, confirming that it’s okay for him to take it further. “I want all of it.” You say while looking him in the eyes. They darken, and you can tell that you’ve just awoken something inside the man. His hands bunch under your shirt, slowly lifting it up to reveal the royal purple bra that you were wearing. Thanking god that you chose a matching set, you take the initiative to take your sweater off the rest of the way, throwing it on a chair near the table. 

Minho wastes no time attacking your neck, biting marks near your collarbone and trailing them down towards your breast. He takes one in his hands, feeling the fabric underneath his hands and relishing in the quiet noises you’re making. His fingers ghost over your nipples, the texture of the fabric bringing you an added sensation. You subconsciously move your hips against his, feeling how hard he is through his jeans. Minho sighs, and the sound is music to your ears. You continue to move your hips against his, and Minho quickly grabs the back of your legs. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they?” he teases, telling you to hold on as he picks you up and takes you in the direction of his bedroom. His lips never leave your neck, at least not until he has you lying comfortably on top of the pillows on his bead. The look in his eyes is almost primal, and it mirrors every feeling that is running through your body in the moment.

You sit up quickly, unbuttoning his shirt slowly as you kiss each inch of exposed skin. Minho helps you as he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, and you take in the sight of the gorgeous man sitting in front of you. You look down to his jeans and then back into his eyes, as if asking for permission. He grabs your hand and guides it to his belt, and that’s a sure fire sign that you can continue.

You expertly undo his jeans, pulling the zipper down with your teeth in a teasing way. “Fuck, baby,” he says at the sight, and his little praise just spurs you on. You move him to sit on the edge of the bed, and you sink to your knees in front of him as you pull down his jeans. His cock is something to behold-- the perfect size, pink and standing at attention. Tempting. You grab the base in your hand, and bring your tongue out to lick at the head. Minho melts into your touch, his fingers going to your hair instantly. You begin slowly, sucking on the head and using your hand to stroke the rest of his cock. It’s taking every ounce of self control from Minho to not fuck into your mouth, wanting to savor the first of hopefully many encounters with you.

You look so gorgeous on your knees for him, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you begin to sink lower onto his cock. He can feel your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein and making sure to swirl your tongue at his head with each pass you make. If you keep this up, he’s going to cum fast. 

“As much as I enjoy the feeling of your pretty little mouth, baby, I don’t want to cum inside it this time.” He says, pulling you back up onto the bed. You feel excitement rise in your chest at the idea of a “next time”. You giggle as he hovers over you, pulling you into another kiss. He can taste you on his tongue, and there’s something so inherently dirty about it that makes him impatient. 

He starts working on your jeans, undoing the buttons with ease and sliding them down your legs. He stares at the matching purple underwear that you’re in, and he chuckles darkly. “Seems like someone had something certain on their mind when getting dressed today, huh love?” He teases, tracing slow circles over your clit in a teasing way. “I-I don’t know what you mean,” you say as you try to keep your noises to a minimum. He’s going at a pace that is way too slow for your liking, but you’re not ready to beg for it. At least not yet.

“Hm? Feigning innocence now are we? That’s not very nice of you, baby. Tell me, what were you thinking when you put this on today, hm? Were you thinking that I’d take you like a good girl tonight?” He asks. His eyes never leave yours, and you try your hardest to keep your voice level. “Maybe,” you tease, and his pace quickens for just a moment, just enough to have you keening, but then he returns to the torturously slow pace. “Trying to be a brat, are we? Don’t worry, I can have that attitude fixed in no time,” he warns. You want to test him, see how far he’ll go. “Really? I don’t see you doing anything about it,” you fight back.

Bad idea.

Before you can even blink, your underwear are ripped off and thrown across the room, and Minho’s hand is now around your throat. The sweet feeling of the air leaving your lungs has you dizzy, not able to form coherent words. “Oh? Where’s that mouth of yours now huh?” He says, his tone condescending. His fingers return to your core, but this time his pace is rough and fast. You try to move, but the grip on your neck is tight. “Tell me what you want, love. Use your words,” he says. He decides to loosen his grip to let you speak.

“Please, Minho God just-just fuck me,” you finally speak out, voice shaky as your high is quickly approaching you. “That’s all the permission I need, baby doll.” He laughs as he pulls you closer to him. Reaching down, Minho grabs his cock in his hands and runs the head up and down your labia, teasing you before giving you the real thing. “You’re so wet, this is all for me right? I’m the only one who makes you feel like this?” He asks, knowing that you’re slowly losing your cool.

“Yes! Yes it’s only fo- only for you, Minho please” you beg, and it quickly turns into a moan as he enters you. Your back arches, and a low groan comes from Minho’s throat as he feels how tight you are around him. He stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, but once you rock your hips into him even a little, he sets off at a steady pace. The feeling is euphoric, he’s stretching you in just the right places and somehow knows exactly how to make you see stars.

He’s panting, and when you whine a quiet “Harder, please,” he loses all control. Slamming into you quickly, he brings his hand back to your throat. “You’re so perfect for me, baby. Jesus. Only for me,” he says over and over again. He’s leaned close to you now, mouth against your ear and you can hear every ounce of praise that comes from his mouth. Your high is approaching, and you clench around Minho when he starts drawing fast circles on your clit once again. 

“Minho I- I’m so close, please make me cum,” you moan, and with a certain swivel of his hips he’s hitting a spot that’s making you see stars. “Cum for me then, baby. Let me feel you,” he says, quickening his pace once again, so fast you didn’t think it was possible.

The only sounds in the room are skin slapping and your labored breathing, moans loud as you finally feel the knot in your core tighten and then burst. His name leaves your lips in a long, drawn out whine, and you feel him fill you up not long after your orgasm starts wearing off. He’s panting in your ear, grip tightening around your throat once again as you feel him spill into you. 

Riding out both of your highs, Minho’s thrusts slowly come to a stop. The two of you lay there, basking in the glow of the events that just unfolded. You stay like that for a few minutes, and then Minho gets up to run the shower, placing a kiss on your forehead as he leaves the bedroom.

You end up going for another round in the shower, and then straight to bed as the two of you are too worn out to do anything else.

You wake up the next morning in one of his tshirts, and you can smell pancakes being made in the kitchen. You look over and realize that Minho is no longer next to you, and you smile as you hear the radio playing and a sweet voice singing along. 

Aware that his daughter could be coming home at any minute, you throw your own jeans on as you walk into the kitchen, Minho’s shirt still falling off your shoulder. Quietly padding behind him, he jumps as you wrap your arms around his waist. “Good morning,” you giggle, and he quickly turns to place a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning to you too, doll.” He says. The name brings back memories of last night and you feel a blush on your cheeks. 

You help him finish making pancakes, and when the front door opens, you hear little feet making their way to the kitchen, followed by the sound of Seungmin’s voice. “Hey, Minho I figured I’d stop in and say hi since I’m dropping off your- oh. Hello.” Seungmin says as he sees you at the counter with said man. “Hi,” you say quietly, giggling at his expression. “Y/N!!!!!!!!!!” you hear from behind him. You lean over and see Minho’s daughter coming at you full force. You quickly scoop her up into your arms, spinning her around as her bright laugh fills the room. It makes Minho’s heart explode, and he immediately feels embarrassed as he looks over at Seungmin. “I’m not judging, good for you bro.” The younger man says, sticking out his fist for Minho to bump. He laughs, but does it anyway, his attention turning back to your and his daughter.

“Are you here to have breakfast with us?!?! Daddy makes the best pancakes!!” The girl exclaims, and you laugh as you look over to Minho, sharing a secret glance.

“I sure am, sweetheart.”  

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