#but if you've been doing art your whole life youre pretty good at it

[allmightyscroll-swag]

I'm about to wash my hair but I just got a sick world building thing for one of my oc stories

And I'm writing this down here in the notes cause I'm silly

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

calling skz clingy headcanons ◦ ot8

Paring◦ ot8 x reader

Words◦ 3,578

Genre ◦ hurt and comfort

Warnings ◦ reader blows up at the boys a few times, mild cussing I think, hyunjin is lowkey toxic in this but the reader is more toxic, honestly all of our boys are pretty dramatic lmao, they keep getting lazier and lazier😭, I fucking hate y/n in this like fr I'm gonna kick her sorry little ass, seungmins is... suggestive...dirty talk and fingering only for like one line, so is hans lmao all happy endings because I am not sadistic... or realistic

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr

A/N ◦ honestly this is my super random chaotic thoughts I had at 2am bc I was really hating the way I was writing a love lived between the stars and the sea so I wanted to take a small break and clear my pallet I hope you all like it even though it lowkey sucks lmao <33

Also im lowkey fucking with making headcannons this is kinda fun...

~cookiecreates 🍪

chan

I feel like Chan would be the most emotionally mature about the whole thing, especially when he sees the storm brewing in your eyes before you even spit those venomous words.

"Fuck Chris, do you have to be so clingy all the time?" You shout, your mouth curling in a disgusted sneer. 

You've never flinched away from him like that, never been so mean-

He's first hurt then he sees it-

There are cracks in your demeanor; large gashes in your heart; he could read you like an open book; the stories your soul wished to tell resided in your glassy eyes.

Hurt people hurt people.

You didn't think he was clingy; no, you loved his touch. You were simply overwhelmed, overflowing with so many simmering feelings—his love did not have room to shimmy through.

So he makes room-

He tilts your chin up with a sincere voice and asks, "What's the real reason why you are shutting me out?"

The unadulterated dedication in his words leaves you in shambles. 

Chan would tear open his heart before your eyes just to prove that there are openings for your soul to pour all your pain into him.

and he would still find a way not to spill a drop

"It’s so hard,” you sob. “They told me you were too good for me, that I wasn’t enough. They said I should shut you out, run away before I got too attached. I had to make you hate me so that I could never weigh you down again."

Chan is fuming.

He wants to ask who said that? He wants to ask where they live? He wants to ask if you want to witness their destruction? He wants to ask if he should use a knife or a gun?

But instead, he says, ‘Darling, you would have more luck breaking the bounds of the moon than untangling the way you are threaded into my soul."

what. the. fuck.

Chan the next William Shakespeare up in here

...was this based on something I wrote for my new series...yes. am I ashamed... no.

I'm a hopeless romantic who wants to marry a poet.

Sue me.

You never thought the apocalypse would be so rewarding, because you are reeling, spinning out of orbit, a meteor spit out into space, hurling towards unknown destruction—destruction that tasted like fresh morning dew.

Chan was perfect.

what the fuck were you thinking?

He holds you through the night, chasing away the whistling of the cold winter wind, his warm arms creating a home around your heart.

lee know

do not ever ever ever ever ever ever ever call Lee Know clingy unless you are willing to dedicate your life into creating the next wheel of time because after you plant the seed in his head, he will blossom a garden of newfound insecurities.

"Can you please not be so clingy right now? I'm having a really bad headache," you whisper through the thick fog clouding your brain; you have been living with a red hot rod skewed through the back of your brain all day. You didn't mean to say the word clingy, but it is futile to search a thesaurus from a blurry page, and right now the world seems to be nothing more than a piece of abstract art.

He just wanted to hold you and you call him clingy??

To others, the sentence would be like water rolling off their backs, but to him, it was a ragged shard of glass stabbed straight into his chest.

Lee Know is extremely inexperienced in the world of intimacy, often clumsy with his actions—hesitant with his words, so why would you say such a thing?

Knowing how insecure he is??

You would only ever say it if you meant it fully and completely??

Honestly, in his head, he would be lowkey, really dramatic, but he's so beyond hurt, feeling like you're just picking at a gaping wound.

like I said, dramatic.

justified. yes.

dramatic... also yes.

I am a firm believer that his tough-guy act is only that.

an act.

He was pretending like he didn't care what you said, but when he gets into the other room, it takes everything in him not to shatter into a million different pieces, feeling so overwhelmed with how many emotions are coursing through him.

No matter how much you apologize after that, no matter how much you prove what you said was nothing more than your head foggy and in pain, it still will take lifetimes for that scar to fade.

and he will only ever get over it with a million reassurances and a thousand conversations

which you are willing to do as long as he needs it

changbin

Honestly, I dont really have a clue with this one, but I am definitely leaning towards him being more like Chan in the emotional mature way he handles it, but instead of comforting you at the drop of a hat, he just leaves the room and lets you stew on your sorrows.

"Your so clingy," you groan, shoving his arm off; rolling your eyes as the mattress shifts with his weight. You just want to be left alone. You weren't sad. You weren't mad. You were just tired and did not want to be touched.

In perspective, could you have handled it better? Yes, but what can you do now? I'm going to punch this bitch in the face I swear I hate y/n and I'm creating her

He's first very confused, then the hurt hits like a falling star crashing into his chest.

What do you mean he's clingy??

"Fine," he states, still dizzy from the utter whiplash you were giving him.

like what the hell?

Sleeps on the couch that night (bad idea don't do this)

He stews about it far past the dreams in his head

That is, until you trudge out of your bed in the morning with red-rimmed eyes and a face filled with regret.

After a shitty nights sleep without the heat of your boyfriend's arms, you realized very quickly what it would feel like if you were to never feel it again, and all of a sudden, you never want to be left alone like ever again.

The grudge he was previously trying to hold drained out of him, and in that instance, he jumps up, pulling you into his arms.

He is very quick to forgive you, when you voice your reason for snapping at him, was nothing but compressed frustrations manifested into the wrong source.

hyunjin

hyunjin. hyunjin. hyunjin.

I feel like in a fit of both hurt and the toxic trait of self-isolation, he would be petty and stay at the boy's house for a few days.

He had tried to give you a good morning kiss that day, but you were stressed and late for work, rushing to put on your clothes. The way he whined about wanting to be touched ground your gears beyond belief. You got stuck in your shirt, which was too tight after you shrunk it in the dryer, and your firm has yet to give you another one. Hyunjin's flighty hands wrapped around your waist, trying to help you untangle yourself from the mess of fabric, only for the button to get caught in your hair, pain ripping through your scalp.

"Stop it hyunjin!" you shout, attempting to unthread the way your hair has meshed into the slits of the button. "You're so fuckin' clingy."

It was all a mess—your heap of shifting fabric and jerking limbs, hair sticking up at every angle. His heart was crushed somewhere in a pulp on the floor in front of him.

He just wanted to help...

Your red-hot anger quickly bled into a tightening anxiety that pulled underneath your ribs as you imagined the look on your boss's face when you came in disheveled and late.

"I just wanted to help," Hyunjin sniffles, bouncing his eyes around the room, filling with tears. You heartlessly roll your eyes.

"Here come the waterworks," your voice is steady, flaming with annoyance mixed with a sickening tilt of mockery. His jaw drops.

you're being so mean

His ears burn when you glare at him, disgusted by the tears streaming down his cheeks. He desperately wipes his emotions away with the back of his hand, suddenly embarrassed to even be showing you the cracks in his soul.

He runs away, like, quite literally runs out the door, sprinting to his car and driving straight to the group's house, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Chan's arms.

He stays there for a good 3 days, ignoring all your calls and texts.

No matter how much it hurts his heart not to talk to you, he shuts you out in a weak attempt to show you what it would be like to live without him.

But this tactic is short-lived when you arrive at the boys' house, snot sobbing into his chest.

"i-im so sorry," you repeat over and over and over into his skin, hoping the further you dig into his chest, the closer the words will hit his heart. 

He's not going to lie; no matter how much you cry, a little bit of pettiness will still stay during the conversation, a small scar of his hurt dictating his choices.

"Why didn't you come home? I thought we were over?"

"I thought that asking to sleep in the same bed as you would be too clingy"

Your heart cracks. He sees it, immediately regretting all his words.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps, pulling your head straight into his chest again.

You shake your head remorsefully, "No, I deserved that."

Even though so much of him still wants to be petty, his love for you trumps the feeling.

(I'm not forgiving you though wtf)

han (this one is long asf)

Han is freaking out.

I mean like the devil's bony hand gripping at the base of his spine, stale breath wafting down the skin of his neck type of freaking the fuck out.

You had a job that required you to go on-site, on-call often, like Han’s—that’s why you were so understanding about his busy schedule; yours was just as bad.

Today was a nightmare. Your coworker, the devil in disguise, didn't show up for the presentation she had created, and since she threw you under the bus saying you helped her (you didn't), you were forced to come in and present it.

Leaving Han at the restaurant waiting for you to arrive-

You forgot-

It was debatably the biggest presentation of the year, showing off her new design to multiple new investors, and yet your phone kept buzzing.

You told Han this was important

You never sent the message

You don't think you have ever seen your boss so furious

From Han's point of view, he's been sitting here for 2 hours, and you are still not here.

There are so many scenarios flying around in his head—

Are you okay?

Did you stand him up?

Are you breaking up with him?

Did you get kidnapped??

Han got tunnel vision when he was scared, his restless brain shooting out dire scenarios faster than he could decipher the impossibility of them. It was overwhelming. The walls were closing in on him. Nowhere in the world was safe. His head was swimming, the room was spinning, the earth was popping through space.

He keeps texting and calling and voice mailing. The icy anxiety crystallizing in the pit of his core turns his fingers brittle, creaking as he jams them into his phone screen.

He can't breathe.

Too many possibilities.

Untill-

Your boss got fed up with your phone ringing, screaming at you to go answer it since it was clearly more important than your job.

he was a prick

You answer it, the heat of your building anger curdling a deadly brew inside your soul. Without looking at the 200+ messages Han had sent you, you answer the 50th call of the day, immediately hissing into the speaker, "Do you know what you just did, Han? I got yelled at by my boss in the middle of a presentation because your clingy ass can’t exist without constantly needing my attention for more than 5 minutes. Stop texting me." Your finger smashes the end call button before unruffling your skirt and walking right back into the room.

Han feels like he might just melt straight into the seats, the way his whole body burns.

The whole world stops for a moment, the earth bleeding down the walls, swirling into pools of muddy color. He was sinking, lungs filling with the ink of a million different sweltering elements.

He ruins everything.

He was so wholly overwhelmed he could barely crawl into his car, desperately gripping the steering wheel while the earth collapsed in on him.

He ruins everything.

It's almost impossible to get to his house the way his tears blur the road.

(that's actually fr dangerous don't drive while crying)

He ruins everything.

He doesn't cry when you walk through the door.

He doesn't touch you when you run to him, standing over him, huddled on the floor.

He doesn't breathe as you cry over his body, twinkling in and out of consciousness.

He ruins everything.

Your makeup runs down your cheeks as you try to shake him awake.

He fainted in the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon when he was alone during his panic attacks, the anxiety ripping harsh bouts of oxygen from his lungs.

You squish his cheeks together, forcing his lips into a pout, shoving your faces together, pouring unadulterated passion into his system.

He short c i r c u i t s.

"I'm so sorry," you sob against his lips. "I didn't mean to be so mean. I didn't mean anything I said. I was just stressed, and I thought I sent the message telling you not to text me, and I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Your voice is high and wet, pushing his mouth deeper into yours.

It would be sceintifically impossible for your lips to get any closer-

and yet his tries.

He pulls your trembling body into his lap, fireworks exploding from the ashes where your words had lain.

"So you don't think I'm clingy?" His voice cracks, fresh tears collecting on the outer corners of his eyes. You have never shaken your head so adamantly in your whole life.

"No, never, never ever."

"Then come here."

You two have never been so close before in your life, hearts tangling in your chests as he presses your body into his.

You were going to prove just how much you loved his touch.

:D

felix

Oh Felix, my kind sweethearted boy that deserves nothing less than prince treatment. He’s so kind, even though he’s so hurt. He’s actually scared he’s annoying you, so he makes himself more distant so he doesn’t bother you.

""Fuck, Felix, can you not see I am clearly just trying to relax? I mean, you don’t always have to be up my ass all the time," you snap, curling back up into the sheets Felix ripped off. You were exhausted—there was no excuse; you were just really tired. Felix, being the loving boyfriend he is, wanted to hold you while you slept, but of course, you being the dumb idiot you are, shouted at him.

are you stupid like fr cause like THE LEE FELIX WANTS TO HOLD YOU AND YOU SHOO HIM AWAY

you deserve federal prison

Felix is so many synonyms for destroyed that it should be physically impossible to still be alive with a heart that lies shattered in the pit of his stomach.

Felix doesnt know how to feel sad, angry, hurt, upest, embarrassed.

He just clenches his jaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Felix has always been secretly self-conscious about the way he expresses his love toward people, often being very touchy-feely. He understands that this isn’t everybody's favorite thing and how it can get fairly annoying.

He’s already so terrified you’re going to leave him; he overanalyzes every interaction.

But this interaction did not need to be analyzed to know what you meant. You were very direct about that.

The way your venomous words attached to his stomach, pumping him with poison that swirled his stomach sick.

You don’t apologize when you wake up, not believing you need to justify yourself. He was being clingy, and you had every right to express your opinion about it.

im going to punch this bitch in the face

As surprising as this is, he actually doesn’t cry about it. He doesn’t cry about it because he is so worried that him crying about it would annoy you, so he would rather let his sadness seep into the back of his brain than show you emotions that could potentially turn you off.

Like I said, destructively kind.

He really takes what you said to heart, trying his best not to give you any skinship unless it’s to guide you through a crowded room or pull you away from the bustling activity of the road, holding your hand until you get to your destination.

He actually feels like he can’t function without your touch, but he muscles through it, relishing in the small actions he can get.

He tries to show his love in other little things that aren’t physical touch. It gets to the point where he is so deep in his head he shies away when you try to initiate skinship, terrified he’s going to get back into the habit of the joy of touching you and make himself seem annoying again.

He’s so beyond scared of being a nuisance.

It’s been two weeks with this flighty physical touch, and it all finally starts to click when you notice his smile isn’t nearly as bright anymore and some of the stars in his eyes have faded away.

"I want you to be clingy again, please, please, please. I mean, cling wrap, Kola. If you ever think you’re being too clingy, please hug me a little tighter. I’m an idiot, a complete and utter moron. Really, I should be evaluated on why I am even able to exist in society."

His heart literally bursts so relieved he can finally touch you again.

He gives you the most dopamine-coddling, brain-boggling cuddles known to mankind that night.

Your skin is so close together it feels like there isn’t a part of your body Felix doesn’t occupy.

He has created a home in your heart that no other man will ever stay, where he will rest until the day you fade away.

seungmin

Oh bro is pissed

"You're so clingy," you deadpan as his arms wrap around your waist. You had seen a stupid TikTok prank on your For You page and had the brilliant idea to try it on your boyfriend. But the way his whole body tenses against your skin, muscles rippling underneath your fingertips, you know you are so beyond fucked. "What did you just say to me, baby?"

well you just signed your death certificate

So many ideas brewing in that beautiful head of his-

Like, your ass will be red, your stomach will be painted, your mouth will be filled, and you will be descending into the grave. Like all the rest are lovey-dovey 'I’m sorrys,' no—your sorry will be told on your knees.

He will edge you intill you are teetering on the ledge of oblivion

"You want to cum, baby?" He's so condescending, easily lifting your waist from the sheets, his sticky fingers creating bruises when he pins your legs down to gain more access to ruthlessly abuse your g-spot.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, please," you beg, body trembling on the bed, large qaukes of pleasure rushing through your bones as his mean fingers plunge into your messy cunt.

"But that would be too clingy wouldn't it?"

oh how i want his fingers

(this one is really short bc i hate writing smut but i feel like this would be smutty)

jeongin

I honestly have no clue. I feel like he’d be more confused than anything because, like, me?

clingy?

mf I barely touch you?

Honestly, kind of annoyed more than sad—like pissed that as soon as he wants to touch you, you think he's clingy. But he's like Chan in the fact that he sees past your words and into the anger brewing in your eyes, allowing both you and him to cool off before he says something he will regret.

He just walks out of the room and lets you calm down.

I am also a firm believer that this man is healthy as hell.

He could tell that his heart was starting to beat a little too hard and his head was getting a little too fuzzy with all the raging words he wanted to say. But instead, he just walks away and lets you calm down, then talks to you about it before you go to bed because he is also an extremely firm believer in the fact that you should NEVER go to bed angry.

this one is shorter bc like I'm lowkey running out of motivation and ideas

did you like this? check out my new series a love lived in between the stars and the sea here

or maybe read doomsday here

[azrielbrainrot]

Maybe We Could Be The Start of Something

Pairing: Band member!Azriel x College Student!Reader

Description: Your friends invite you to a bar and you could never imagine who you'd meet there.

Word Count: 3294

Warnings: none

Notes: I had this idea after seeing this art and couldn't stop thinking about it. I actually had a lot of ideas for little stories in this universe but it makes sense to start with how they met. Also I know that's a terrible band name but I never had to name a band before okay. I didn't proofread this because I think I'd delete the whole thing if I did, sorry. This is really self-indulgent but I hope you like it!

Band AU masterlist

You could only blame yourself for agreeing to meet Viviane. Your skull felt like it was going to split open with this headache that has lasted all week. The only thing you wanted to do right now was try to sleep it off under your warm blankets, but instead you willingly came to a bar knowing it was just going to make it worse.

She's been telling you about this place and the bands that perform here occasionally for ages. Apparently it's a real hotspot for up and coming musicians ever since two bands made it big after starting out here. You've been turning her down for weeks so you had promised her that you'd finally come this friday, of course when you agreed you couldn't have known your week was going to be absolute shit. Though most of your days have been shit lately. That might be the actual reason Viv has been so insistent about you going out with her, she knew your mental health was ready to take a vacation and was just being a good friend.

This really hadn't been a good day to come though. Aside from your headache, your last class had also run late, making you lose your bus and barely have time to drop everything off at home and change to come meet your friends. As a little treat you also couldn't find your nice black skirt so you had to just wear jeans, you definitely needed the extra confidence the pretty skirt provided but the universe didn't seem to care about that.

The bar was already packed by the time you got there, you were almost being pushed around while you were searching for your friends. You look down at your phone to ask them where they are and see a text from Viv asking if you're still coming. Reading it makes you stop in your tracks. You can't really blame her for thinking you wouldn't show up since you've been declining every invitation lately, but seeing that she thought you wouldn't even give her a heads up hurt a little. You knew you had been distant lately but you were trying your best to deal with life and you never meant to do it at the expense of your friendships.

You're pushed out of your thoughts when someone taps your shoulder gently, making you look back at them. Turning your head you were faced with a muscular chest, slowly looking up a tattooed neck to meet beautiful hazel eyes staring back at yours.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” he says, breaking eye contact for a second before continuing, “but I think you dropped this.” He raises his hand so you can see him holding your keys. Your house keys, the ones you would undoubtedly only notice were missing when you went back home and tried to open the door. That would have been the cherry on the cake after this whole day. Maybe you should see a witch to make sure it's not actually a curse, no one should experience this much bad luck.

“Thank you so much,” you almost yell as you grab them from his hand in excitement. He just saved you from having no place to sleep tonight. You notice him tensing up when your fingers brush against his hand and realize you might have made him uncomfortable. “I'm sorry,” you take a tiny step back in the crowded bar, “I would have been locked out of my apartment if you hadn't seen that. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” he said, giving you a nod and something close to a smile, before going on his way. You curse yourself again for acting so awkwardly. You hope you didn't make him feel uncomfortable, he was nice in picking up your keys and giving them back to you. He was also really cute which only made it more of a shame that you met like this. At least you didn't lose your keys, that would have seriously sucked.

Making your way to the table Viviane told you they would be at, you notice almost everyone is here. She was leaning against her boyfriend, Kallias, while they listened to whatever story Alba was telling them about. Ezio and Celia were both looking down at their phones and showing each other something while giggling like schoolgirls. As much as you love your friends, you don't know how much socializing you can handle today. You already fucked up what could have been a very simple interaction. Then again, with all of them here you know Viv won't try to ask you about Eleanor so at least you can keep avoiding hard topics. Viv greets you with a grin as soon as she sees you, everyone following right after.

“Hey, thought you weren't coming after all.” Yeah, you almost forgot about that. You smile anyway, knowing she didn't mean to remind you of how much of a bad friend you've been lately.

“Sorry, guys,” you sit down in the empty chair next to Alba before continuing, “Class ran late and then I lost my bus.”

“Oh. Bad luck.” You have no idea, Kallias. Conversation picked back up after that and you let them do most of the talking, taking a back seat and just watching them. You're glad that they either noticed you weren't in a talking mood or just didn't realize you were mostly quiet anyway.

You have no new stories to tell them since you've barely been functioning outside of school and talking about your feelings is definitely a resounding no, especially at a bar, so you just let them keep up with their conversations and just nod along every once in a while.

Eventually, the DJ introduces the band playing tonight. The Night Court. Judging by the screams and the way everyone moves closer to watch, they're very popular around here and you understand part of the reason for said popularity as soon as you see them step up on stage.

“Oh, they're really good!” Viviane's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “The guitarist is Mor's cousin. You remember her, right?” You nod. Of course you do. The blonde with sparkly eyeshadow and red lips leaves a big impression, forgetting Morrigan is probably impossible.

You study the guitarist as he introduces himself and the band. He's extremely handsome, the type of handsome that would make you think he can't be human, like some kind of fairy or vampire. You can tell he's aware of this fact with every honey dipped word that comes out of his mouth, literally flirting with the whole crowd. Despite not having many physical similarities with Mor, that allure he exudes definitely matches with hers.

The drummer was already sitting in place, looking eager to play. It takes you a second to notice he was in fact already sitting down as he's probably one of the tallest men you've ever seen in real life. But, with the messy shoulder length hair and big boyish grin on his face, he doesn't look scary at all.

As your eyes travel to the bassist, half hidden in the shadows, you wonder why you didn't recognize him immediately. It was the same guy that helped you before. You had thought he was beautiful before but, considering the situation, you didn't have much time to linger on that fact. However now that he was standing on stage, you could fully appreciate it. He was tall - this much you knew since you were at head level with his chest - and by the way his arms strained against his black t-shirt as he picked up his bass, you could tell he was fit too. He was looking down at the bass in his hands, making the few lights that caught him cast an ethereal glow on his face and on his onyx hair. This man looks like he stepped right down heaven's gates.

They start playing what you think is an original song but can't be sure since you were too distracted checking their bassist out to hear what Mor's cousin had said. He does have a really good singing voice but as your mystery angel starts singing, you can't help but feel bewitched back to watching him.

You barely take your eyes off him during the whole performance but they're all undeniably good. It's easy to understand why this bar is so popular if this is the level of talent their bands have. You can definitely imagine them making it big. They all seem very comfortable and content on stage and the crowd can't get enough of them.

You're so distracted by them that you don't even notice your head pounding anymore, or how fast time flies because, before you know it, they're saying their goodbyes to the crowd and leaving the stage.

Conversation starts back up after that, everyone is gushing about how talented and hot they are and you find yourself easily agreeing with their sentiments. But, with no distraction and the dj back playing songs you've heard a thousand times and the pressure of keeping conversation going, your headache comes back. You wait out just a little longer until you think it's an acceptable time to leave without worrying everyone too much.

“I'm sorry guys but I think I'm going to head home.” You finish the last of your drink even though it's mostly melted ice by that point and start putting your jacket on.

“Already?” You're not surprised Alba is the first to speak up. You'll never understand how this girl has so much energy, you had the same morning class as her but she's still as energetic as she was at lunchtime.

“It's still kind of early,” Viviane looks up at you with her icy eyes and you can recognize the concern in them immediately.

“It was just a busy week,” you explain with a smile on your face, hoping no one reads too much into it even though you all know that's not all. “I think I need to go sleep it off.”

“Are you going by yourself though?” Out of everyone at the table, Enzo is the worst one at hiding his emotions. You can see as clear as day that he's worried about you.

“I'll get an uber. Don't worry.” You gesture to your phone hoping they'll drop it.

“I can wait with you outside.” Kallias offers immediately, ever the responsible one. You really wanted to stay alone right now though.

“You don't have to.” You put your bag over your shoulder to add some finality to your words. “It's cold and there's going to be enough cars out at this hour, I won't be waiting for long.” It looks like he's about to say more but Viv puts a hand over his arm subtly, making him shut up. The bass of the music keeps hammering at your head so you don't linger and just say your goodbyes, waving at everyone with what you hope is a seemingly content smile, before leaving.

As soon as you step outside the pressure you feel starts slowing down. The front of the bar is still full of people so you walk a bit more to the little parking lot on this street. The air is cold but it feels amazing after being in the stuffed bar and your thoughts don't seem so overbearing when you don't have to try to act happy with your friends.

You love them to death but everything about how tonight went just proves that they've been talking about you behind your back. You know this is just them being good friends. You've been acting so differently in these last few months that even one of your professors noticed so it's only natural that they also did, but knowing everyone can tell only makes it worse.

You didn't want to make anyone worry about you. Life has just been going for your throat lately, minor inconveniences keep popping up and piling on top of what was already a pretty shitty situation. But you know once the semester ends, you'll get the chance to finally breathe and solve some of the problems you've been ignoring. And then things will hopefully get better. It just really sucks that your friendships and even school life has been affected by this.

Sitting down on top of the small wall that wrapped around the parking lot, you look up at the sky, willing your mind to let you rest for a bit. Watching the stars twinkling and your breath turn into white clouds of smoke because of the cold. You should probably get that uber and go home before any of your friends find you here, but your body doesn't want to move for some reason.

You feel someone approach you and look back down to meet familiar hazel eyes. You both stare at each other for a second longer than what would be normal, not expecting to see each other again.

“We keep running into each other,” you can hear his voice better here. You didn't notice how deep it was in the crowded bar. His singing voice is also deep but a bit softer than this.

“Yeah.” You smile. Seeing him again after how he helped you and then watching him on stage is making you a little giddy despite your somber mood. He seems a bit less unsure after you respond as well.

“Are you here alone?” He asks as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“No, I'm just waiting for an uber.” You hope you're not making a bad impression again. He probably hadn't seen you with your friends before either.

“Alright,” he looks over to what you assume is his car and then back to you, “I can wait here with you.”

“You don't have to. It's cold,” you start but he shakes his head before you even finish speaking, “I actually haven't called it yet.” He gives you a look of amusement and it just makes you try to explain yourself faster. “I have a headache. The cold just felt calming. I'll get it now.” Opening the app, you start searching and, just like you expected, there's a car barely 10 minutes away from you. A wave of disappointment washes over you at the thought that you won't get to talk to him for longer but you push it aside quickly, you barely know him.

“A bar probably isn't the best place to be if you have a headache,” he tilts his head slightly in what you're almost sure is concern. He's a little hard to read.

“I know but I already had told my friends I was coming so…” You shrug and change the subject, trying to allow this moment to let you forget about your earlier thoughts. “Didn't turn out too bad. There was this really good band playing today.” You can see a flush take over his cheeks and the tips of his ears and you feel incredibly proud of yourself for being the reason behind it.

“I'm glad you liked it,” he says as he dips his head slightly in thanks. You feel like this might be the best compliment you could have given him.

“You were all really good. I even forgot about my headache while I was watching you play,” you try not to sound too excited and make it weird but you want him to know how good his band is, “Do you perform here a lot?”

“Yeah,” he leans sideways against the wall next to you, “At least twice a month.” You're starting to notice that, although his face doesn't show too much emotion, his eyes are a little more expressive. His band seems to be a topic he likes talking about. You can understand why.

“Isn't that a big deal? I heard this bar is really popular nowadays, there has to be a lot of bands trying to perform here.” The blush seems to be back but it could also be because of the cold you're subjecting him to.

“We always try to do our best but we've been playing here for a long time. That helps too.”

“You know that's not it,” you point to the entrance of the bar, where some people are smoking, “The bar was packed. I don't know if that's how it always is but I'm pretty sure it was mostly people wanting to watch you perform.”

“You've never been here before?” It looks like he's getting a bit embarrassed by the praise so you let him change the subject.

You shake your head. “Need to come more often though. When are you performing again?”

“We don't always have a schedule,” he looks down at your phone in your hands then back up at you, “But I can text you the details.”

“Oh.” He wants your number. The thought makes warmth rush to your cheeks. “Alright.” You unlock your phone and hand it to him. While he's typing his number, you can't help but notice the scars on his hand. They completely cover his hands, the skin completely marred. It looks as if they were burned. You look away from them, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring. He hands you your phone back and you see he saved his number under his name.

“Azriel,” you say the name out loud, tasting it in your mouth. He's watching you a little more intensely than before and you have to break eye contact to stop yourself from blushing. You quickly send him a text so he can save your number as well.

“I'll need yours too.” You give him your name and he repeats it, just as you had done. He makes it sound beautiful in his warm timbre and you can't help the flutter in your stomach. “I'll text you as soon as I find out when we're coming here next.”

“Okay.” You lock eyes and don't look away, just enjoying the moment, until you see a car pass by and realize it's yours.

You think you could have stayed there in the cold talking to him all night. You're not sure why but talking to him is effortless, it's like you've been friends for years. It just feels right and you find yourself wishing that he texts you soon with the concert information and anything else he comes up with. You wouldn't need much of an excuse to talk to him.

“That's my ride,” You say as you hop down from the wall. He looks at the car and when his eyes meet yours again you think you can see a hint of disappointment, hopefully at having to cut the moment short. “Thank you for waiting with me,” you smile at him again, “You didn't have to do that.”

“No problem.” He gives you a smile too, the biggest one you've seen on him. “I'll see you next time.”

“Of course.” You'd be an idiot to not want to see him again. You linger for as long as you can, suddenly not feeling like going home at all.

You wave at him again before getting in the car and something beats faster in your chest when he waves back and watches the car speed off down the street, it's almost like your heart is telling you to stay with him. You're not exactly sure what just happened but you hope you don't regret not staying with him for the rest of the night.

You keep thinking about him during the whole car ride and he's the last thing on your mind when you're laying down to sleep. And when he texts you the next day you know you'll have many more opportunities to spend the night talking to him.

[poppy-metal]

the boys not men……. thinking….. having the most traumatic break up of your life and deciding you have to reconnect with nature so you go to stay with your relative who owns a ranch out in the country. art works there as a farmhand, your uncles right hand man. worked there since he was a boy, grew into a man. a real fine man with a long strong body accustomed to hard labour, made by it and for it. he don’t think nothing of you when you first come in. city girl, spoiled, precious. hair too nice, nails too pretty. he don’t think much of city girls. you’re pretty. very. but pretty won’t pay the bills, and he’s not risking his lively hood on you. you’re miserable. inconsolable. you thought your ex was the love of your life. you don’t speak to anyone for the first few days, your uncle just happy to have you around, so art only catches glimpses of you off the veranda, wrapped in a shawl, looking forlorn like a lady in the old black and white pictures they play at the drive in. each time you lock eyes you turn with a flourish and go inside, like you were always a figment of his imagination and you were never really there. just a pretty ghost. as the days go by your uncle introduces the two of you, telling art to show you the ropes of what he does. good to keep busy he says. art holds out his long hand for you to shake, and you take it gingerly, but his fingers grip your hand tight enough that you grip his back and really shake. an electric chill runs through you. over the next few days, art tries to teach you things but you periodically break down, over something in some convoluted way relating back to your ex. arts surprisingly good at comforting you, but that’s not what he really wants to do. he wants to show you that men, real men, don’t make girls like you cry. from sadness at least.

RAHHHHHHH need country art on his knees eating my cunt the way none of those city boys do - long laps to your pussy like he's truly enjoying himself down there and he is - broad shoulders holding your legs apart on either side of him - he makes you watch the way his lips seal around your pussy - can fit the whole thing in his mouth - lips and all - makes you leak into mouth an embarrassing amount, but he just sucks it down. languidly and lazy like he has all the time in the world to spend between your legs - eating you until you're all puffy and swollen and your little clit is damn near ready to fall off she's so sore from his tongue running circles over her again and again -

you think you're done when he's made you cum twice down his throat - when the tears staining your cheeks aren't from your dumb ex back home but from how good art donaldsons mouth is - but he tells you that's just the beginning, sweetheart. licks you off his lips like you're honey and kisses your tremblin' thigh.

"nowhere near done with you," is what he says, dragging your legs off his work bench, until your ass is hanging off the edge. forces you to wrap them around his trim waist as he reaches down to unbuckle his belt. the heat in his eyes enough to melt your body right to liquid. "got something else this little pussy needs." and you've never been impressed by a cock until you'd seen his. flushed and hard in his hand - pink tipped and swollen. you think he had it about right, you do need him - how is it that he knows what you need better than you ever could? is that what makes him a man?

regardless - you're biting your lip and watching him feed himself inside you - your tender cunt sensitive but greedy to pull him in - "just like that." he groans when the head slips in, slick and easy - "look at you take it - you ever wanted a dick this much?"

and you have to be honest. you haven't. and so you shake your head and he groans - and you whine when he rocks even deeper - sinks more inside. the spread of him so thick inside you. fuller than you've ever been before. makes your toes curl right up.

"and you won't again." art tells you. "cause whenever you need it, you come to me. understand?"

this pussy is his to take care of from now on, he says, and you can do nothing but nod and let widen your legs to allow him even deeper inside yourself - ready to give him whatever he wants of you, if it means he'll keep making you feel this fucking good.

[jayahult]

Okay so here's the thing. You're hired to do this job by this woman named Grace. And it's a very particular job, and you know she could do it with a machine but she needs this personal touch. And you follow along with it. It's pretty fun at times, after all. You do get this sense that she's just going through the motions with this, just meeting her needs and not much else, but that's not your problem or your business. And there are some odd things about it - she's a little pushy, and sometimes you find some art around her place that you presume is from someone she used to be in a relationship with, but that's not really your place to question. When things start to heat up is when you get into a fight over her wanting you to break ties with one of your friends. You both do and say some regrettable things, and you end up out of her reach for a bit, going through the motions and all that. Then, one day, you meet this other guy - let's call him Will. He's charming and he seems to have some sort of plan for his life, so you start hanging with him for a while. And then you run into her again. Grace. And she is pissed about this whole arrangement and the bad blood between you two, so you decide a little petty revenge is in order and to make a long story short Will gets the deed to her house. Then Will starts getting ideas, and Will? He's not so good when he gets ideas. He ends up kicking you both out onto the street, and now you're down and out together. And you get to talking - well, you don't talk all that much, you've never been the talking type, but she talks a lot. You finally learn her real name - Carol - and her past. She apparently used to be in this thing with this guy back in the day who she had a really toxic relationship with that just... sucked the fun out of the sort of things you'd do together for her. He was this older guy, really just an arrogant asshole who took advantage of her and ever since she's been stuck like this. At any rate, you eventually manage to get back to Will, and you rough him up a little until you can manage to finagle things back into the proper place. With Carol back at the head of the house, things seem a little better, back in their proper place. The thing is, Carol's learned a little since you started this whole arrangement. She doesn't think that this will ever work out - not like it used to. So, instead of being possessive, she lets you go. She says that she doesn't feel anything for you anymore but that can't really be true. She sings to you as you leave, and sends you that old friend's number as a way of making up for that old fight. And that's why in Portal 3 you're going to march back up to that door, go back down into Aperture Labs, and fuck that robot.

[parkerluvsu]

Could u write some Patrick angst where you guys are in a solid relationship but Patrick tries to breakup w reader bc he’s never been in a genuine relationship so his own insecurities take over? Happy ending tho if possible🥹

yes i can <333 sorry this is long and it kind of takes a while to get to the point i hope you like it anyway 😭

- as long as you've known patrick he's been known as a "playboy", previous room mates attesting to the fact that a new girl was leaving his room every night. patrick didn't know what he was looking for, there were no common links between his flings and he didn't care, he would buy them a drink and nod at their stories before he invited them back to his room, sending them on their way once he got what he wanted.

- you met patrick through a mutual friend in college, you didn't see too much of him because he was always late to class or never even showed up. of course, his grades started to slip and his parents noticed, immediately looking for a tutor for him and settling on you, since you were "friends". as it turns out it's pretty hard to contact someone who doesn't even have contact names for people, just " brunette from bar" and "chick from biology". you finally got a hold of him and told him the arrangement, he didn't like it (to be expected) but his parents threatened to not support his dreams of becoming a tennis star if he didn't get good grades, so he settled.

- outside of his frequent escapades, patrick was a nice person, he actually did listen and ask questions the whole time you were explaining problems to him. once he actually get to know you a little bit (simple things like how you always complain about being thirsty but never bring a drink, or only use pens and never pencils, not caring if it's more trouble when you make a mistake), he respects you and your time more and doesn't skip lessons as much and actually does his homework.

- once you become friends on a bit of a deeper level, not just tutor and student, he talks to you about tennis, eventually inviting you to come watch him play. usually he's playing doubles with art, but you personally prefer the days when he's playing solo, you really get to focus on his talent and passion for the game that way. and patrick comes to look forward to seeing you in the stands at his games, art makes fun of him and pushes his shoulder whenever patrick gets distracted. he notices a weird feeling in his stomach when he does find a moment to look at you, smiling at how you're biting your nails and leaning forward on your seat.

- that night, patrick invites you to come to his victory party, he reasons that you helped him archive this victory by bringing peace to his academic life so of course you should come. you spend the night sipping on a drink in the corner of the room, given you only knew patrick and art, who were surrounded by admiring friends and family. just when you were picking up your coat and keys to leave, patrick was able to escape his fans and come over to you, his brows furrowing as he sees you're about to leave. "what do you think you're doing?" he asks, "you haven't even said hi tonight", if you were looking closer it would almost seem like he's pouting. you explains that you're tired, you don't really know anyone and honestly you'd rather just be in bed. "well lemme walk you to your car then yeah?", he helps you to put your coat on, ushering you out the door into the quiet street, ignoring your argument that it's really not necessary, fighting back with "a pretty girl like you shouldn't be walking alone late at night" and that shuts you up as you walk next to patrick, neither of you saying anything. it's a comfortable silence though, and you think back on your time with patrick and realize you've never really felt uncomfortable with him.

- once you get to your car safely you lean against your car to continue talking to him, thanking him thoroughly for walking you to your car, even though he had to leave his own party. maybe it was the glasses of champagne you had at the party or the way his skin glowed in the moonlight but you leaned in and kissed his cheek as an act of thanks. as you opened your car door to leave patrick did something he's never done to a girl, he made the first move, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. he didn't know what it meant for your relationship but he didn't care in the moment, all he knew was how soft your lips felt against his. when he pulled away it was clear you were both quite awkward, so he gets you into your car and told you he'd text you the next day. and another first, he actually did text you the next day.

- from then on your relationship blossomed, for how experienced patrick was, he wasn't experienced in the more romantic aspects of a relationship, but just like you taught him chemical symbols and equations, you taught him how to have an actual healthy relationship. but still, patrick feels like he should know all these things already, you shouldn't have to ask for flowers or ask to go on a romantic date, you should be with someone who knows how to treat you right. about 4 months into your relationship he couldn't stop himself from thinking this way, knocking on your door right after practice and praying you'd answer. when you do, he makes you sit down on your bed and explains the whole ordeal, ending it with "you deserve someone better than me, that can treat you better.. we have to break up". you're immediately confused, the reason that he wants to break up is so stupid you feel like you need to slap him. you don't, of course but you certainly give him a firm talking to, reminding him of all the things you love about him and he feels like crying, his head falling into your lap as he holds your hand. he'd never imagined being in a relationship like this, and he promises to make you feel as lucky as you make him feel everyday <33

[applesaucesims]

His heart was beating in his chest as if it was trying to run away from him, as Louis joined warmup with the rest of the first-year ballet students. Some of the other kids were already stretching their muscles, while others were practicing some exercises at the barre, and then some were simply talking and waiting for the teacher to arrive.

Said teacher announced her arrival with the clicking of her heels on the polished floorboards and a loud tapping of her walking stick as she stood in the middle of the room. The students quickly walked to form a line in front of the barre, facing their teacher who introduced herself as Miss Lambert.

As Louis stood there, listening to the teacher's introduction of the academy, his nerves were not going down at all. He had been taking children's ballet classes for some time now, but he was not sure whether it was enough to truly meet the skillset expected from him. Looking over at the other children lined up next to him who seemed to already know what the next steps would be, he could not help but feel a bit lost. He knew he wanted to dance more than anything in his life, but was it really what he was cut out for?

Though he tried pushing his worries deep down, it seemed obvious to him throughout the rest of the day that he was far below everyone else's level. Whether it was just his mind telling him that, remained to be seen.

[TRANSCRIPT]

*indistinct chatter* *tired student noises*

*click click*

*tap tap*

Miss Lambert: "Good morning, new students! Please stand and form a line."

Miss Lambert: "My name is Miss Lambert and I'm one of the dance teachers at this academy."

*shuffle shuffle shuffle*

Miss Lambert: "You'll have most of your classes with me, particularly the girls. At those times, the boys will be with Mr. Booth, whom you'll meet tomorrow."

Miss Lambert: "You'll be learning your academia here, too, of course. But we all know that's not what you're really here for. You're here to dance! And I'm here to show you how."

Miss Lambert: "Since, you've made it to the academy, I'm sure you already know the basics. I expect you to know a bit more than that, actually. I'm aware your current skills will be at different levels. But here's where we'll truly see who's got the most talent and discipline!"

Erin Branch

- grew up on a small farm

- practiced dancing with the farm animals since age four

- made it here with talent alone - and a scholarship

César Roques

- from a long line of dancers and choreographers

- pretty much born dancing

- trained with some of the most famous names in ballet

Rozaliya Fortova

- daughter to a couple of successful travelling dancers

- speaks five languages

- visted ballets in every country she's been to

Kavi Gupta

- a boy of many talents

- supposed to take over the Gupta Shipping Co.

- his parents still think dancing is just a hobby - though they do support it

Sophie Welles

- middle child of five of a wealthy automobile business owner

- taught dance and other arts by the family's nannies

- her two older sisters are already academy alumni

Zachary Turner

- lives with his aunt and practices with her daily

- disowned by his lawyer father for choosing dance

- dad's still waiting for him to "come to his senses"

Celine Walton

- top of her children's ballet class three years in a row

- daughter to the mayor of Brindleton Bay

- used to always getting what she wants and being the best

Louis McGregor

- newest at dancing of the whole class

- still wondering if he would have made it without his father's fame

- has no idea what he would do if dancing does not work out

Miss Lambert: "Well? Let's get on then!"

Miss Renée Lambert

- head ballet teacher at the academy

- had a promising career as a prima ballerina herself, until it was foiled by an ankle injury

[amymbona]

What if Dilf!Art was put into the ballet instructor au?? Like After the tennis match that Art and Patrick had, that hugged confirmed a friendship again. Of course Art and Patrick retired, tired of the pressure tennis put on them, the pressure of being with Tashi. So Art and Patrick remained close friends, living close to each other, having their daughters be friends. When Patrick put Eleanor into ballet classes Art thought it would be good for Lily to something different than her dad and mom did. So both of the girls had ballet classes, being in the class, being taught by the same lovely ballet teacher. Now Patrick was the one who absolutely fell in love with her first, if we’re doing timelines. He talked about her to Art, and he really didn’t think anything of it, because he didn’t pay much attention, not when he would go picking up his happy daughter with her arms interlocked with Eleanor’s as they skipped towards him and Patrick. But when the ballet teacher spoke softly to Art about Lily’s improvements in ballet he immediately understood Patrick’s obsession. She was so soft and caring, so youthful, it was something Art definitely needed throughout his life. Art thought the same things Patrick did, that she was the one who could probably take away all of his problems, all of those days he’d eat such bland food for his tennis diet, pushing himself so he could make Tashi proud, doing anything for Tashi but nothing was ever enough, she wanted good tennis and he wanted love. (IM SORRY, I WANT BOTH MEN)

Okay so this is actually fucking insane 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁

You don't even notice their growing affection towards you, especially Art's. You've known Patrick for quite a while and so you're used to him being, how to say it... friendly. Really fucking friendly. Subtly touching you, complimenting the way you treat his darling daughter and make sure she gets to develop her talent.

And poor Art is feeling completely distressed, as if he wasn't capable of even half of whatever Patrick can do. He tries to joke with you and you respond equally as softly, even giggling at some of his silly jokes. He thinks you're an angel, but he's also afraid you like Patrick more. At least you don't make any decisions considering the kids, because you've been treating his Lily as if she was here since the beginning.

Art brings the topic of you once, when the boys are alone, which is the first time that it happens (as Patrick was usually the one to rant about you).

"She's really pretty."

"Who?" Patrick asks without looking up from his phone, probably thinking he's talking about some random celebrity.

"Lily and El's ballet teacher," Art mumbles.

Patrick teases the living hell out of Art that evening. And he makes sure to pay attention to his blonde friend's behaviour the next time they go to pick their girls up from practice. A pleasant discovery is made when Art stutters as he attempts to respond to something your say and his cheeks heat up like two full strawberries. Yeah, he makes fun of it.

But it also gets poor Patrick worried, considering everything that has happened over the last fifteen years... When Art got chosen by Tashi and favored by the whole tennis industry. The cutest one of the two. And considering your own softness and the ethereal aura of your being, he's thinking you might choose Art over him.

Without knowing or ever discussing it, the two friends become jealous of once another, or rather afraid, both of them finding themselves so deeply attached to you. Two confident men who used to be so smug and full of themselves are reduced to worried babies that can't help but feel neglected.

Luckily, their smart girls pick up on their dads' distress. Unaware of the reason, they play detectives and they dump their suspicionw on you. When you're talking with Art and Patrick the next time while the girls are changing in the locker rooms, you bring that topic up.

"The girls told me that you two have been having some issues. They said that you look worried. Is something going on?"

You speak to them like you're an angel sent from the heavens above, they really both want to drop to their knees and cry until you decide to be merciful enough and take them into your arms. The little frown of worry on your face and the crease between your brows are enough to send both of their hearts beating faster.

"Worried?" Patrick asks with a casual chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Do we look worried Art?"

You asshole, Art thinks, shooting his friend a glance. "I- I don't think so. Perhaps we're just getting older. A mid-life crisis, you know."

A giggle from your mouth gets them both to tremble on their feet.

"Okay, okay, I won't pry," you assure them with a nod and that beautiful smile of yours, "But if you feel like talking to someone, don't be afraid to reach out."

You pat both of their shoulders delicately, Art just ends up glancing at you with an open mouth as you move while Patrick has to physically prevent himself from grabbing you and stopping you from walking away.

Later in the evening, when their girls are asleep, they discuss your existence over the phone. Luckily, still on the best friend wavelength, they both come up with the same ideas. Somehow getting you close to them, closer than a normal ballet teacher should be to her students' parents, especially a father. Especially two fathers.

[promptthebear]

I love your writing so much - can I request 🐰 Arron Hotchner for number 13? I hope you are having a good day :)

Aaron Hotchner x Reader- Special kind of honey

Prompt: This is stupid...and kind of fun

Summary: Hotch just got back from a tough case. You've got a nice little homecoming surprise for him. Unfortunately things don't go as planned.

CW: A little bit spicy but not explicit. Some mild swearing. Established relationship between reader and Hotch. Reader has low self esteem. I can't think of anything else that needs to be tagged but please let me know if it does.

A/N: I am so very sorry this took so long and also that it kind of stinks. I really struggled with this prompt but what the hey, I tried.

Aaron wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find, coming home from a case well past midnight but it certainly hadn’t been this. Standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom, gun holster still attached to his belt and briefcase still in hand, it was all he could do to keep his mouth from dropping open as he stared at the display in front of him.

“Babe? What do you think?”

You were spread out on the bed, waiting for Hotch like an all you could eat buffet. The lingerie ensemble you’d chosen was one of his personal favourites, a royal blue chemise and thong set made almost completely out of lace that showed off the very best of your assets while still leaving something to the imagination.

This alone would’ve been a treat, but it was the swirls of golden pigment that decorated your arms, legs and collarbones that caught his attention. You’d seemed to have paid special attention to your inner thighs and breasts, with those two areas sporting the highest concentrations of gold. Each time you moved, the light from the bedside lamp made your skin glitter with an almost magical lustre. You looked inhumanly beautiful, like a piece of living art.

“Babe?”

Hotch opened his mouth to answer you, only to close it again seconds after. The sound of his heart pounding in his ears was making it difficult to think, let alone speak, and the fact that all the blood in his brain was now rushing straight to his cock wasn’t helping matters.

“Sorry, this was a bad idea. Let me get cleaned up and then we can just forget about the whole thing”

Not waiting for a response, you started gathering up pillows and blankets off the bed in a frantic attempt to cover yourself up. It was only when Hotch’s line of sight to your bare skin was interrupted that his few remaining neurons sparked to life.

Cursing softly under his breath, he dropped his briefcase and rushed over, hoping to catch you before you could flee into the bathroom. His fingers missed your wrist by inches, closing around thin air as you scrambled across the bed and slid off on the other side.

“Honey, wait!”

The sound of Hotch’s voice made you pause long enough to allow him time to catch up with you. As soon as you were within reach, he anchored one hand on either side of your hips and pulled your body flush against his. You offered no resistance, coming willingly into Hotch’s familiar embrace even though you kept your gaze trained firmly on the floor.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, save for the sound of your laboured breaths and fluttering hearts. Hotch wondered if you were waiting for him to speak, to offer some kind of explanation for the reaction you’d misread as a rebuff.

Though you worked for the FBI, you weren’t a profiler. You wouldn’t have been looking for micro-expressions or subtle shifts in body language the way he did almost on instinct. At best you’d probably assumed he was too tired after his case for sex and just wanted to go to bed. At worst, you were now thinking he was a complete asshole who no longer found you attractive. Either way he’d dug him self a pretty deep hole and the only way to get out of it was to explain himself , but once again Aaron Hotchner was at a loss for words.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care that you were upset, he cared so much it almost hurt, but that didn’t change the fact that pulling you up against him like this had been a mistake. Because now, instead of coming up with an apology, his brain had become entirely too focused on the subtle brush of your hips against his to think about much else.

“Are you going to let me go, Aaron?” you asked, finally breaking the silence

“That depends,” he replied, his voice a little hoarse “Do you want me to? Or are you just asking because you think it’s what I want to hear?”

You sighed, the sound coming deep from the pit of your stomach, and blew a stray lock of hair out of your eyes. Hotch watched it flutter in the air for a moment, before reaching up with one hand to tuck it behind your ear. You leaned against his palm, some of the tension leaving your expression as you did.

“I missed you.”

A smile played about Aaron’s lips, and he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for, and he had no doubt you were intentionally avoiding giving him one, but he was too intoxicated by the scent of your shampoo to care. He’d only been gone for a week, and yet he’d spent every day yearning for you like some lovesick teenager. Now that he finally had you in his arms again, he wasn’t about to let that be ruined by a foolish misunderstanding.

“I missed you too, honey. Now, are you going to be honest with me or are you going to make me chase you around the house a little first?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, as Aaron’s comment brought up memories of wonderful nights past. It would be a lot of fun to squirm free and play the brat for a few hours before finally giving in, but your ego was still too bruised for that. All too quickly the smile fell from your face, and you began to bite anxiously at your bottom lip, a sign that Hotch knew meant you were far more upset than you were letting on.

“Sweetheart? Talk to me, please”

“I just-”

Your voice cracked slightly, and Aaron’s heart almost broke along with it. There was hardly ever a good moment to be a horny idiot, but this one was probably worst than most. You had gone out on a limb for him here, done something spontaneous and outside your comfort zone so he’d have a memorable homecoming. You’d been vulnerable with him and even though he hadn’t intended to, he’d all but thrown it back in your face.

“I…do you think this is stupid?” you continued, pulling back so you could look down at the golden sheen that adorned your skin.

“Well no, considering I’m not entirely sure what this even really is yet.”

“It’s…it’s edible body powder,” you blurted, your cheeks starting to turn pink “Honey dust, to be more specific. Penelope gave it to me. I wanted to…mix things up a bit. Make them exciting for you. I should’ve known you’d think it was dumb and-and vapid and-”

Any further self depreciation vanished the instant Hotch’s tongue touched your skin. It was all you could do to keep your knees from buckling as he licked a stripe up the column of your throat. His mouth was blazingly hot, and if the noises he made were anything to go by, he approved much more than you initially realized. The sensible thing to do now was to let him keep going until he’d licked every inch of you clean and fucked you six ways to Sunday, but unfortunately your brain wasn’t about to let you off that easy.

“Aaron hold on- Aaron, baby- could you please just-”

You had to grab a handful of Hotch’s hair and tug before he finally extracted himself from your neck, grumbling softly under his breath as he did. The way the heady sweetness of the paint combined with the salty tang of your skin was potent. He’d barely gotten a taste, and yet Aaron knew he was ready to get down on his knees and beg if it meant he could have more.

“You’re not stupid”

“I never said-”

Aaron brought a finger up against your lips, gently but effectively silencing you so he could continue. Biting back your annoyance, you let him, your sense of curiosity overcoming your wounded pride.

“Look, you’re welcome to spend all night arguing with me about it if you want, but I also know there’s plenty of other things we’d both rather be doing so I’ll make sure I’m clear about this. You’re. Not. Stupid. You’re brilliant, and gorgeous, and I am so incredibly lucky to have someone like you to come back to every night. ”

You thought about protesting again, putting Hotch in his place and demanding to know why he’d been able to walk in, find you waiting for him as you were and not crack so much as a smile. He was smiling now though, looking like the cat who got the cream while his eyes roamed freely over the golden shimmer that decorated your cleavage and neck. His hands were also doing their fair share of roaming, trailing across the lace of your chemise and slowly working their way lower. It was only when you felt him cup your ass that you relented slightly, letting out a small moan and dropping your forehead against his shoulder.

“Besides,” Aaron’s voice was soft and low in your ear, his breath warm against your skin “You worked so hard to set this all up. The least you could do is let me thank you properly.”

“I like the sound of that,” you replied, offering Hotch a warm smile as you brought your hands up to rest against his chest “Only…”

“Damn it, sweetheart, you’re going to kill me. What is it now?”

You laughed quietly, not even bothering to hide how much you enjoyed working big, mean Aaron Hotchner into a tizzy. If only the other agents at work could see him now.

“You still haven’t told me what you really think.” you said, as one of your fingers started to twirl around the end of his tie “About the honey dust, I mean.”

Aaron groaned, and affectionately rolled his eyes. The fact that you were being stubborn really shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did.

“You’re still on that? I thought it would be obvious by now. I love it, though I’d love it if you were wearing a brown paper bag.”

At the sight of your furrowed brows and the hard line of your pursed lips, Aaron let out a sigh and gently grabbed hold of one of your wrists.

“Still don’t believe me? Look.”

With that, he pulled your hand down and brought it firmly to rest against his crotch. You gasped softly, feeling what was very clearly a massive hard on straining against the zipper.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, your eyes going so adorably wide Aaron had to fight the urge to smother you with kisses then and there. You’d been together for almost three years now, and somehow you were still oblivious to the effect you had on him.

“See? The reason I didn’t say anything before is because honestly, you had me too turned on to think. If I had been able to come up with anything besides “guh” and some drool, believe me I would’ve.”

For a moment you stood there, stunned and trying to process what Hotch had just said. Then, the laughter came. It bubbled up out of you like a freshly popped bottle of champagne and there just seemed to be no stopping it. Before you knew it, tears were streaming down your cheeks and you were clutching Aaron’s shoulders, trying to stay upright as your body shook with mirth.

He held you through it, his own laughter, rich and warm, soon joining your own. When the two of you were finally able to settle down, you found yourselves sitting on the floor, still holding each other for dear life. Your tears had carved a path through the honey dust on your cheeks, creating dull stripes in between the swaths of gold. Aaron was also covered in the stuff, with most of it on his lips and nose from when he’d had his mouth on you earlier. The sight set you off in a fit of giggles again.

“Oh god, baby, I’m so sorry,” you said, breathlessly between suppressed laughter “What a mess, and the bed’s probably a whole lot worse. This really was a stupid idea.”

You reached up and tried to wipe some of the gold powder off Aaron’s face, but only succeeded in dusting it down onto the lapels of his suit jacket. That didn’t seem to bother him too much though, and he caught your hand before you could pull it away. He pressed a kiss against your palm, deep and reverent, before licking up the tender skin on the inside of your wrist. You shivered with pleasure in response, and let out a soft moan.

“This is stupid,” Aaron agreed, moving to stand and gently tugging you to your feet as he did “And also kind of fun. Besides, we can always do laundry later and after the week I just had, frankly I could use a little fun.”

You gave Hotch a sympathetic smile, and allowed yourself to be lead towards the bed without any further resistance. Sure enough, you could see gold dust coating your navy sheets and comforter, most of it concentrated in an outline of where you’d been laying. Aaron shook his head fondly at the sight, before scooping you up in his arms and laying you out like you’d been when he’d walked in earlier.

As soon as your back hit the bed, you reached for Hotch, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a searing kiss. He lent into it eagerly, letting out a hum of appreciation as he felt your tongue brush against his lips. This was your first taste of the honey dust, and right away you understood the appeal. It was sweet. but not over powering, a nice little addition to Aaron’s already delectable kisses. With any luck, you’d be able to talk him into letting you cover him with it later on. The bottle said it could be put anywhere on the body, which had given you more than a few ideas you wanted to try out.

Despite the rough start, it seemed like the evening was heading towards a much more pleasant end. However, instead of climbing into bed and straddling you like you’d expected, Aaron suddenly broke off the kiss. Your eyes flew open and you propped yourself up on one elbow, watching has he turned away to walk back towards the bedroom door. His absence was already felt, your lips and body now caressed by the cold air instead.

“Aaron? Sweetheart?” you called out after him, trying to keep your voice calm “What are you doing?”

“Call it a do over,” he replied, flashing you a wide grin over his shoulder as he reached for the doorknob “An enthusiastic welcome deserves an enthusiastic reception.”

[gallusrostromegalus]

oh my god I am frothing at the mouth PLEASE tell us about how Unohana is SO WEIRD ACTUALLY

(her reveal is my favorite thing in the whole series and I was obsessed with Bleach for a good long time)

I love Unohana. She's magnificently insane and deliciously fun to write so far.

My take on AEIWAM Unohana is that fundamentally, she just wants to be happy.

Oh, that doesn't sound too nuts. I hear you say.

Yeah, but I also headcanon that she has ADHD. We joke a lot about it on this site, but if you have the good fortune to have functioning dopamine factories, allow me to explain the worst part of it, for me.

There's no passive happiness.

Most people, as I understand it, if left to their own devices without undue stressors like capitalism or any particular stimulation, tend to be able to feel pretty okay most of the time. Which fascinates me because if I am left alone without undue stressors but no stimulation, my malfunctioning dopamine factories will shut down and I will rapidly develop a terrible black depression and paranoia that life is cruel and I will never experience happiness again and also my appetite vanishes and sleep cycle collapses and I will end up mentally and physically distraught, sometimes in less than an hour.

So I've always got to be doing something, or The Horrors get me.

So imagine Unohana, and with a brain that wants to die if she gets bored... living in fantasy magical ancient japan. Not much to do, out in the early days of the soul society, besides being attatcked by monsters, or participating in warfare, or starving to death. the first two, at least, get the blood pumping, but the first is difficult to come by regularly, so as a young woman, the most interesting thing that happens to her on the regular is Mortal Combat.

And how exciting it is! Adrenaline! Dopamine! And on the rare occasions she meets a fellow combat enthusiast, she also gets one of the best things about ADHD- Recognition Responsive Euphoria. You know that great feeling you get at Con or meeting another person with your special interest and you guys just VIBE and it feels like you've been best friends for life in less than five minutes? Yeah, apparently Non-ADHD people don't get that.

So naturally, she develops her skill in combat, not in pursuit of Honor or The Art or something nebulous like, that, but in the simple Pursuit of Happiness. She gets very good at it, and a lot of people die.

But she starts getting... too good at it. The fights don't last, there's nobody willing- let alone able, to meet her on her level and the previous joy she felt fades and fades until she is once again left in the darkness.

Then, a Miracle happens! Some punk stabs her in the lung :)

Man, what an evening for her. Kills a hundred men with barely a stroke and there's no more joy in the world for her when suddenly some barely-legal scarecrow looking bastard with a raggedy sword he pulled out of someone else's corpse appears at the top of the pile of bodies and then goes Ape. Fucking. Shit. on her.

It's the most fun she's had in ages! He's strong and fast and his moves are inefficient but delightfully unpredictable and by the GODS the STAMINA! Alright, she might be 1,000 years his senior but in the soul society age really is just a number and she can't help but be charmed.

So she flirts back by nearly cutting his face off. This DELIGHTS him!

And there it is again, that sudden feeling of intimacy between like-minded individuals, only these two ships aren't passing in the night, there' here to make Titanic 2: Electric Boogaloo. They make eye contact, and know-they're just like me.

True Love is a wonderful thing.

It's also a great opportunity for a surprise thrust and she only sort of manages to block it, and despite the feeling of blood pooling in her lung, she returns the blow full across his chest.

She staggers back, coughing.

He, miraculously, sits up, coughing. He won't die if he can crawl off somewhere to lick his wounds, but he can't continue the fight either.

She stands up, teeth gritted through the pain, and sheathes Minazuki. "What's your name?" She asks. "So I may find you to fight again."

"Don't have one." he wheezes. "But I'll never forget yours."

She's had men spit that as a threat to her before. It sounds very different as a declaration of love.

"Yachiru." she says, trying to not cough up blood. "Unohana Yachiru."

*

A Year later, there's a problem.

Soul Society has a bit of a problem with lungs. They can make entire fake bodies for shinigami to travel the living world, but individual organs, especially lungs... never seem to transplant well. Perhaps it's the fact they're already dead.

Her left lung is "healed" in the sense that it no longer has extraneous holes in it, but... Godsdammit, she still has all the power but none of the stamina. Barely 10 minutes into a fight and she's wheezing worse than The Old Man. 20 minutes and her hands are starting to shake and she's seeing spots in her eyes because she can't breathe well enough to keep the oxygen in her veins. Her fights usually last seconds so functionally she's still one of the most powerful people in the afterlife but it's a far cry from where she was before.

She can no longer be the 11th division's Kenpachi. Hell, she can no longer be the woman she was before.

"Unless you figure out some new medical miracles, this is as healed as it's going to get." Explains the chief medical officer after yet another frustrating checkup.

"...If that's what it takes." She decides.

The next morning she re-enrolls in the Shinigami Academy, under the name Unohana Retsu. The sole change she makes to her appearence is to braid her hair down the front of her chest because people WILL ask about the scar, and she doesn't want to think about how badly she's letting down that warrior with no name.

Either she needs to learn how to get back to his level, or find a new rival and learn to heal them to actually last the 20 minutes she has, or she'll die.

She studies.

To her vast surprise, bodies are actually fascinating. She'd previously seen that there were lots of interesting organs inside people but now learning what they are and how they work and the fact that the human body is already astonishingly death-resistant compared to most animals AND a carefully balanced meat sculpture minutes away from catastrophic failure at all times delights. She learns about the extreme ways humans can survive and the bizarrely mundane ways they can die, and she starts to form an idea- not an image, not a philosophy per se- but a working theory of how to keep someone alive and moving for as long and far as they will go, and what they need to stay upright.

This idea shines so brightly that it can keep that terrible darkness away.

The century practically flies by, and one night she stays up manually pumping the mechanism on a device used to keep the also-failing lungs of a young boy going after the power goes out. He's been blessed by A God that he's lived as long as he has, but even Gods can fuck up sometimes and she effectively has to breathe for him for twelve hours until the God gets its shit back together and he can breathe under his own power again.

"Hell of a fight you put in, keeping him alive." says one of her colleagues, collapsing beside her out in the 4th division medical garden where all the doctors go to smoke.

Retsu slowly exhales the smoke, fatigued but still coming down from the high of success. She cocks her head. Her body aches and her mind races and her heart thrills, just like- "I guess it was. " she realizes. "Interesting fight, going 12 hours in the ring with a dying child and winning because he walked away at the end." She laughs, and hands him the cigarette to share.

"You weirdo." he colleague laughs. He's far too young to remember when she was Yachiru. Most of them are these days, and it's a weird sort of peaceful anonymity and personal joke. "You weren't fighting the kid. If we were actually allowed to fight patients, I'd've stabbed the Kuchki hypochondriac decades ago." he grumbles, taking his own drag.

She snorts. "Who was I fighting then?"

"Death?" smoke billows out as he laughs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She freezes. Oh. Oh. That's why she likes this so much. She's gone from fighting mere men to the one opponent she knows she can win battles with, but never the war, and who will defeat her personally someday.

"Are. Are you crying?" he asks, a little worried.

"I- yes." She laughs, tears streaming down her face. "I just fell in love all over again."

"Ouch." he nods sympathetically, offering her the cigarette back. "Who with?"

"Death's own Angel, apparently." She giggles, feeling positively prepubescent with this crush.

And thus she goes on, for centuries, learning everything there is to know about bodies and minds and how the two keep each other going and the ways she can help. She gets very good at it, and a many more people do not die.

But there is a special, secret place in her heart for that nameless warrior that defeated her in battle, and made her stronger than every before.

*

Nearly 1,000 years after she stopped being Kenpachi, she is supervising the annual "see if you can kill the captain" tournament. Her colleague Kaname is there, a walking anxiety disorder with undoubtedly real but strangely hard to diagnose phantom pains, but he's still easily in her top 10 coworkers of all time because he made her a new medical record filing system so functional they were actually able to recataloge three millennia of medical records into a usable format in under a decade. He can come twitching into her office any time he likes, especially if it gets her that mass vaccination process for the Rukongai he's been biting The Old Man's heels for.

Then

as suddenly as he had appeared the first time,

He's back.

He's older now and larger, having matured into a spectacular bastard, but there's no mistaking that cutting edge on his reiatsu (which, oh, that has gotten much, much stronger since last time) or that scar running down his face as he turns from where he had just cleft the previous Kenpachi in twain, and stares out into the crowd in the shower of blood, challenging anyone to do something about it. Hell, even when Yamamoto appears to congratulate him on his promotion, Death's own angel's first reaction is to turn to fight the old man without hesitation.

He then promptly picks three different fights with four captains in under five minutes, tells Yamamoto to shove the job up his ass, imply he's had a WILD collection of vocations in the last millennium and furthermore, he has to get home to his daughter.

...Named Yachiru.

Hilariously, Unohana is only having the second weirdest time about this here, because Kaname and Kenpachi are, somehow, even weirder than she is.

[ihugzminseo]

needed me. pjh x reader. part I.

pairing : toxic!gf!jihyo x afab!reader

synopsis: 5 years. 5 years of hell to you, 5 years of sadism to her. 5 whole years, you and jihyo have been on and off. why? she's toxic. it's completely insufferable the way she treats you, because she just treats you so badly. that is, outside of bed. god, she's so good in bed. but the on and off is too much, so you decide to leave her. for all. as you said the previous three times. so, you inevitably come crawling back, because you both know deep down, you need her.

warning : non-idol au, unnie!jihyo (jihyo is 27, reader is 25), slight s&m, possessive!gf!jihyo

word count : 0.7k

a/n : this is the first (of many) songfics!! this fic is heavily inspired by needed me by rihanna (hence the title ykyk); 

to feel a little more, and give a little less. know you hate to confess, but baby, ooh, you needed me.

disclaimer : this fic has been on the brain for a while, but PLEASE, for the love of all things sacred, do NOT by any means depend on a partner, especially one that's toxic. speaking from experience, it crushes you. seek the help needed, and do not lean on them. at all. this is a work of art, and does not depict any real life instances.

october 2nd. today would've been you and jihyo's five year anniversary. and hypothetically, it is. because this is the day you two got together. for the first time. you weren't fond of college, so you applied for a part time job as a boutique assistant. you've worked at this boutique for nearly eight years, and jihyo was a fairly frequent customer. from her long dark hair, to her big doll-like eyes, to her sweet-as-honey voice, you were in love.

you could go on and on about what you loved about her. her hair looked so healthy, you hated big eyes but godthey suited her so well, her figure was everything you aspired for, her style was top tier but most of her clothes were from the boutique you worked at anyways, her voice was so sweet sounding it drove you crazy. and most of all, she always came directly to your register. not your coworkers, you. and god forbid you were out one day, she'd have another one of your coworkers hold whatever she was planning to check out that day and she'd come back when you came back.

it seemed like the people around you could sense the chemistry between you and jihyo before either of you even sensed it yourself. jihyo had only been shopping there for four or five years, but she was so inclined to walk right over to you, as if she'd known you since day one. and a stranger would think you had on really tacky makeup with the way you blushed everytime she came around.

the two of you initially only engaged in small talk, but that led to the two of you having genuine conversations while you checked her out, like you were two best friends meeting over coffee. and she was just such a sweetheart, it damn near hurt.

she'd smile and nod while you spoke, pretty long lashes batting against her cheekbones when she blinked. and when she spoke? you could listen to her forever. she spoke slowly, almost sensually, and that smile she'd had while on the receiving end of the conversation never faded. she would "unintentionally" touch your hand while handing you her card, feeling the rough prongs of all your rings against her soft hands.

and one day, she slid you something while you took her card. a sheet of paper. "call me? XXX-XXXX-XXXX ♡" . didn't even take you a second to reread it, just a glance up mimicking her sweet smile and a mouthed "you got it".

in all honesty, you hadn't really expected her to pick up. you'd expected to listen to that eardrum-bursting ringing sound for the next 20 seconds before you were eventually told to leave her a message. but, it was definitely a bit of a shock to hear that honey-like voice answer the call with a "aww, you remembered to call?". her voice was much raspier than usual, and she tripped over her words trying to say 'remembered'. jihyo was drunk, very obviously drunk at that.

"jihyo, you sound drunk. really drunk. are you alright?" did it feel right outwardly asking that? no, but it was on your mind so you did. what wasn't on your mind was hearing "you don't question your elders, y/nnie. im not drunk." three things. one, you could hear the slur in her voice. two, she was a really bad liar. three, elder? she didn't look much older than you, so you hadn't thought to address her as such.

"elder? jihyo we look the same age." was all you could get out. jihyo was charismatic, but understanding what she said was like a rubik's cube. "i can just tell im older than you, im 27 y/nnie. and you look younger than i do." oh. 27. like you'd thought, she's barely older than you. 2 years was not that much of a difference, but it must've counted for something to the pretty drunkard on the other end. "i see. jihyo, im 25 though. you're like, barely older than i am."

should've stopped talking earlier. wayyy earlier. as you learned, jihyo didn't really like being proven wrong.

"so? im still older, even if it is 2 years. so be respectful." her voice was still raspy but now it sounded like she was almost snarling at you. god, you would've hung up right then and there if you knew what your misplaced quick wit and her very well hidden sadism would do to you. because it did barely anything, if anything at all, right.

[billthedrake]

PRE-FROSH (CHAPTER TWO)

This story is a sequel to "Dad's New Life."

We were just playing video games, enjoying the Sunday afternoon hanging out in my brother Connor's room in the SigEp house. Connor was even beating me, but I could tell he was in a pissy mood. And I had a good idea what was bugging him.

"I'm gonna hit up Daddy Mike later," I said, addressing the elephant in the room.

I heard my big brother's deep sigh. "Dude, you gonna spend your whole fucking weekend with that guy?"

I paused the game. I got along great with Connor normally but things had been building up all weekend. "Bro, what the fuck?! You want me to go to some stupid art museum with you or something, I'll do it. Otherwise, yeah I'm gonna go get laid." It was a dumb outburst and more than a little ungrateful, because Connor was the one putting me up for the long weekend. I'd been clamoring for some time away from my tiny hometown and some independence from my parents. I should be grateful to my brother.

My brother let out an annoyed sigh. Not to sell myself short, but my older bro got the looks in the family. Dirty blond, green eyes, dimples that set off his smile. I had some of that but looked more like a regular jock, not a heartthrob movie star. Moments like this, when Connor got pissy, were the only time he lost his handsome attractiveness.

"You know Mike's just a slut, right?"

I was getting annoyed now. "Yeah, fuck, I know," I growled. "I don't fucking care. At least he doesn't treat me like a kid."

"He's too busy robbing the cradle," my brother shot back. "Dude's older than Dad."

Jesus, this weekend should be about fun. And it was fun. Hanging out with my big brother, experiencing fraternity life, enjoying a real college party, and getting majorly laid. I'd gone over to Mike's condo for a quickie session Saturday afternoon, and Jase didn't say anything. But now that I was sharing morning texts with Daddy Mike and planning a repeat, his mood had turned.

"You've done him, too," I replied.

Connor was silent now. Maybe I couldn't have my cake and eat it too. I'd either be an honorary bro for the weekend, the prefrosh, or I'd be listening to my dick.

Sex with a man, an older man, was a new toy, and I was enjoying the hell out of it. It was almost addictive. Well, no "almost" about it. Still, I didn't want to relent on the prefrosh experience. Even if my brother had a date that night, it would be cool to hang out with the brothers, get high and watch dumb TV.

"I'm sorry, Connor," I said. My voice more contrite. "I'll hang out here at the house. I know you promised Mom and Dad you'd watch me."

Now my brother seemed to change attitude. He looked over at me with a look of sympathy, or understanding. "You into him, Jase?"

I shrugged. "I dunno, man," I tried to explain. "I know it's nothing real, but you know, after hiding myself through high school, it feels real nice to be with a man without any hang ups."

Connor smirked. "My little bro getting a little crushed out?" Maybe the understanding was gone, replaced by the need to tease me.

"Crushed out on a fucking 51 year old," I laughed. "So fucking stupid."

Connor nudged my arm, letting me know it was OK. "How bout this, Jase? I have my date tonight. You can go over to Mike's. Just be back by 10 or so."

I normally hated when Connor would get bossy with me, like he was my fucking parent, but I knew he was responsible for me. This seemed like a good compromise.

I probably had a dumb smile on my face when I picked up my phone to text Mike. We set up a time for me to come over.

And yeah, the man wrote some pretty lewd shit about how he was gonna take care of my dick.

****

The rest of the day was normal. Connor took me to the university gym as a guest and I had a good workout. When we got back, Connor got ready for his date - some sorority girl he met a couple weeks ago - and I realized I kind of was doing the same, showering and slicking my hair down with product. I had only casual lax-jock clothes but I figured Daddy Mike wouldn't mind. But fuck I wanted this to be a date, even if the guy was a man whore.

I did stop on the way and pick up some flowers, and Mike had a big grin when he opened the door to see me standing there with a fucking bouquet.

"Great to see ya, kiddo," he grinned, leaning in to give me a quick peck. I'd been scrolling through his social media and saw Daddy Mike used to have a mustache but now seemed to sport a continual stubble flecked with silver facial hair. And while he had a military-short buzz cut for a while, he was growing out the salt-and-pepper hair in an almost professional-banker cut, which was slicked down with product.

"For me?" he said looking at the flowers. "That's sweet buddy." He took them and then showed me inside.

I needn't worry about dressing casual. Daddy Mike had on some sweatpants that clung to his meaty ass, as well as one of his faded Chicago Bears T-shirts. I knew he was freshly showered by his damp salt-and-pepper hair and the fresh cologne smell he had.

"I like your cologne," I said as I followed him into his open plan kitchen, where he rifled through the cabinets to pull out a vase for the flowers.

Mike flashed me a grin and told me the brand. "You wouldn't believe how many guys tell me it's the one their fathers wore... it's like fucking pheromones."

When Mike had first dropped the dad-son idea with me, it kind of weirded me out, but in the course of two days I realized I was kind of getting into it. I still didn't want to fuck my actual dad or anything. But I loved how the incest idea amplified the age difference between me and Mike, and yet somehow made an emotional connection out of pure, tawdry sex.

Still, I had to ask. "Do a lot of guys you meet have Daddy issues?"

The guy placed the bouquet in the water, arranging it quickly in the vase. "Not all, but a lot do. It's fun," he said.

Part of me was self conscious he'd try to figure out if I put myself in the Daddy Issues category, but he didn't seem fazed either way. Instead, Mike stepped up to me. We were pretty matched in height. I had an inch or so on him, but he was of course bigger, beefier, and more muscular. His hands felt great on my waist as he pulled me gently toward him. "High school kid isn't as shy now is he?" Mike teased.

I felt the warmth of his body and yeah, I was getting fully hard. "Nope," I said, now taking the initiative to reach behind and dig my fingers beneath the waistband of his sweats. Unsurprisingly Daddy Mike wasn't wearing underwear and I felt the hard hairy brawn of his ass. Mike had a crazy big ass.

"Go right for the prize, buddy," Mike grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

Fuck, this guy knew how to push my buttons. Nothing tentative about his kiss, Mike was eagerly sexual and yet knew how not to go full charge with the tongue. Instinctively, I knew he was waiting for me to take charge of the kiss, so I did. I groped this 51-year-old's ass while we made out in the kitchen.

"Fuck before dinner?" Mike finally asked in a growl. He'd offered to feed me take out pizza, but indeed sex seemed more appealing just then. I nodded.

And like that we were making our way to the bedroom. Mike peeled off that beat up T and tossed it into the corner. "Almost didn't put on clothes today," he smiled, and then I watched him pull his sweats down over his thick boner, showing off how hairy his crotch and legs were.

I was feeling overdressed, catching up in stripping off my clothes as Mike pulled the covers down on his bed and climbed on, his big muscled body making the mattress dip slightly. There was a big industrial sized pump container of lube next to the bed, along with a vial of what I knew to be poppers. But mostly my gaze was on this hot stud and the way his eyes seemed to me eat up. I may have been the fucker, but Mike was the hunter and I was his prey. I was A-OK with that.

"I bet you're gonna go wild when you get back to your hometown stud," he said as he watched me push down my briefs, freeing my large hardon.

"I wish," I said. Maybe this is one thing that drew me to the man. How he encouraged me, let me think I could be balling any guy I wanted. My dick jerked hard at the idea.

"Trust me," Mike hissed. "A dick like that... and that fucking body. You're jacked as hell for 18."

"Thanks," I said. A conceited part of me knew I was a hot jock, and I certainly put in a LOT of work to build my body. But the no-nonsense complement was so different than the way buddies and I complimented each other.

I got on the bed and crawled on top of Mike's reclined frame. He welcomed me and once again, we were making out. I don't know how I learned bedroom technique, but I knew to take our time. I took charge of the kiss now and made it nice and slow, feeling up Mike's body and humping him gently. He loved that, and I felt a wild satisfaction that I was being a skilled lover with a man this experienced.

Daddy Mike had a goofy grin when I finally broke the kiss and leaned up to admire his handsome face.

"What?" I asked, with a chuckle.

"I dunno," the man said with almost a shyness. "I just... well, I've met my share of lacrosse jocks, and usually they don't have the smooth moves like you."

That made me hard as fuck. My dick twitched and leaked against his hardon. "Yeah?" I growled.

Mike nodded. "They're usually more hard charging in bed," he said.

I thrust into him and gripped his chest with one hand while I held my upper body up with the other arm. "Oh, I can do hard charging," I teased.

"I bet you fucking can, Pre Frosh."

With a determined move, I kicked apart Mike's legs with my own thighs.

"Fuck YEAH!" Mike growled.

I gave him the lustiest look I could before turning to reach over to pump out some lube. I thought of Connor's taunt earlier, than Mike was a slut. He certainly had the bedroom set up like he took on many men, regularly. But as I slicked my cock up, I didn't care. If I was getting a whore, I was getting one for free.

Mike was now doing some of the work pulling back his legs for me.

I looked down. Here was a man almost three times my age, about 230 pounds of beef splayed out for me. I could see Mike's hole. Crinkled, definitely used, a little gape to it.

I wanted to eat it. I'd never rimmed of course, but I'd seen it plenty in porn and figured the guy could tell me if he didn't want me to eat him out.

Only as I crouched down and nestled my nose in his crack, I heard a soft "hell yes, kiddo." I stuck my tongue out. The whole didn't taste of much, mostly a little of the soap Mike had used in his shower. I licked around the ring and decided I was into this, a LOT. His daddy hole was warm and inviting and practically sucked my tongue in. I pushed forward, prodding into his more tender membrane just inside. Pure clean male hole. I wondered what the dudes on the team would say if they saw me now. I used to be afraid and ashamed of being a homo, but now I wished they could watch. The wilder I went, the deeper Daddy Mike's grunts got. This was hot, nasty sex. Men's sex.

I didn't want to extend the foreplay too much the first time out, but I took my time. And when I pulled back I wiped my chin and looked up to see the sex-dazed expression on the man's face.

"Damn stud," Mike said. "You know hot to eat a cunt."

Everything about Daddy Mike's lewdness was making me turned on to stuff I never would be. Like the c-word.

"You got an incredible cunt, Daddy."

"It's yours Pre-Frosh."

I grinned and scooted into place. The fucks before had been quick ones. I mean, there was something special about losing my assfucking cherry to this man, but I already knew this mating session was going to be special. I lined up my slick rod to that slightly puffed, gaping hole and let it nestle in the indentation.

"I'm gonna be jock-fucked aren't I?" Mike was definitely a talker.

I tried to go along with the sex talk. "Well, you're a slut... so yeah."

I immediately regretted saying that once I did, though.

Thankfully Mike just chuckled. "You like sluts, Jason?" He seemed to call me everything but my real name, so it came as a surprise.

"Maybe," I grinned, glad he wasn't taking offense. Then, more assured. "Yeah."

Mike kept some of his lusty smile but his eyes swept up and down my body. "18 and hung as fuck... goddamn."

I pushed into him. The slut hole was not tight but it didn't clamp down some as I entered him. It was exquisite, warm and wet. "I'm not the biggest you've taken, am I?"

He shook his head. "Let's say top 5, kiddo. You're really fucking big." Then he added, "Your brother, too."

That made my nostrils flare. Mike could tell my reaction immediately.

"You got the hots for your big brother?" he asked. That no-nonsense lewdness going straight to my balls.

"I dunno," I answered truthfully. "Fuck!"

Mike reached up and touched whatever parts of my body he could reach in our position. "Would be so hot to be tag teamed by you two," he growled.

Fuck, I wanted this. Wanted to nail this hot beefy daddy. I shoved my cock deeper in, slding into Daddy Mike's depths.

"There ya go, Pre Frosh.... hit that fucking spot."

"Your ass is amazing," I said.

"Hold it stud," Mike hissed, wincing some at my size. "Fuck you're a big boy." I watched that muscle bunch and flex as he twisted his body to pick up some poppers. I held still, buried deep inside him as he took one hit, then another on the other nostril, plus one more for good measure. He set the bottle aside then nodded. "OK, buddy, go for it."

I started fucking him. I realized he didn't have the warm up like the the other day in the frat house and our Saturday morning hook up had been all oral.

We were making up for that now. I put more energy into my thrusts, getting into it, getting into the thrill of dominating this hot fucker.

Mike was still in encouraging mode. "God you're fucking huge.... fuck me man.... That spot is yours, kiddo. All yours. Yours and your brother's."

That made my nostrils flare. No poppers needed.

"That turn you on, Jase?"

I nodded, afraid that if I answered aloud I'd cum. I didn't stop my fuck but I slowed it just a litte, trying for slower deeper pumps.

"You both got amazing dicks," Mike teased, "But you're a hotter dude." He was holding on to my hips now, pulling me in with each pounding thrusts. It must have felt hard on his guts, but I was too into this, and Mike wasn't asking me to stop or ease up.

He watched intently now. His own prick was rock hard but all of his attention and energy was focused on me. Looking up pleadingly as I railed him. "Hot firecracker of a top... just 18 too... fuck," he hissed.

I felt like the studliest guy in the world just then.

"You getting ready to give me that load, kiddo?"

I nodded. "Yah. Fuck." My hips had lost that determined hard pace and now were just going back to fast and furious.

"Get it Pre Frosh. Get it right in Daddy's hole."

That did it. "Shit!" I yelled. I was cumming and the excited smile on Mike's face made me cum even harder. My whole body spasmed and jerked over him as he watched me orgasm. I felt almost embarrassed at how out of control I'd gotten. Then proud.

I finally smiled as my hips stopped and I caught my breath. "Can I get you off, Mike?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Later. I'm hoping there's a later," he winked.

"Yeah, there's a later," I assured him. I told Connor I'd be back around 10, but there was still plenty of time.

We both watched as I slowly pulled out. My dong was no longer erect but it had a lot of hardness still as it cleared Mike's ring and plopped out heavy and wet.

"Hot," he said. "You're a better fuck than your brother too."

I thought I'd be upset at the constant comparison to Connor, but I was actually eating it up. "Yeah? That's cool," I said.

"Ready for some food?" Mike asked as he slid his body out of bed. "You earned it, fella."

I took up Mike's offer for a shower while he ordered some pizza. When I dried off and stepped back out into the master bedroom naked, the man was dressed back in his sweats and Bears T-shirt. And he had a pair of football shorts in his hand.

"These should be your size, fella," he grinned.

I'd worn jeans so something to lounge in was welcome. I had a feeling we'd be fooling around again soon.

I took the offering and slipped them on. "You carry spare shorts for your dates?" I laughed. Not accusing, more amused.

He nodded. "You bet I do, stud. Lots of dudes want a Daddy Mike souvenir. They're yours to take if you want 'em."

I decided not to bother with a T-shirt. Mike was still chubbed in his sweats and his eyes were very approving as he sized up my younger build in the shorts. If the fuck hadn't been enough I was very glad I'd come over.

The Bears game was already on the big screen TV, muted, though as we sat on the couch, Mike picked up the remote and turned up the volume. "Hope you don't mind, Pre Frosh, but this is always part of Date Night on game day." He leaned forward and pulled a tall can of beer toward him, opening the tab and nodding to a matching one in front of me. "You strike me as a beer dude..."

"Yeah," I grinned, glad for the offering. After the hot sex it was the perfect thing. This wasn't the watery shit they served in the SigEp house either.

In a strange way this was a perfect date with another man. I placed my arm around Daddy Mike's beefy shoulder and felt his warm body accept my embrace. I followed football and was a Bears fan, but Mike was a fanatic. Screaming, yelling at half the botched plays and the ref calls. Getting red in the face even. It was adorable.

The pizza came, and we ate silently, watching the game, talking during the commercials. I hadn't realized how hungry I was but I scarfed that shit down. Mike made a good dent, too. He got us another beer. We watched more football. The Bears took the lead.

Maybe it was the proximity to this stud of a daddy. Or maybe it was just my natural recovery time doing its work. But I began boning up.

Mike noted and leaned into me, giving me a smirk. He pulled out his phone.

"Selfie?" he asked.

I got a deer in the headlights look. I thought of my parents finding out. Or my lacrosse buddies. "Fuck, man, I can't," I said.

He smiled. "Don't worry, Jase, buddy... no faces. Promise."

I relented. I sure as hell hoped I could trust this guy. I thought of Connor's own suspicion of Mike's motives. "OK."

He pulled the phone up to a classic selfie distance and snapped a pic. "This might just be for my personal collection," he said. Then he reversed direction and aimed it at our crotches. Mine particularly.

"I just like showing off when I find a hot stud," Mike said.

I'd scrolled through his Insta. The man was being understated now. There were a fuck ton of young dudes posing with Daddy Mike. But I felt proud to join the ranks.

During the commercial he fiddled with his phone and then showed me his latest Twitter post. "Game day Date Night with Pre Frosh," the caption read. And sure enough the pic was of my boned up crotch, my long thick ridge pushing up the material of those Bears football shorts.

"Fuck," I said.

"I can delete it," he offered.

"Fuck no," I replied.

The made him grin. "You shouldn't hide a dick like that for sure. Top five," he reminded me. "Midwestern boys are hard to beat."

I basked in the compliment. My hardon wasn't going away, but I enjoyed the feeling of being hard around this guy without the urgency of getting off just yet. I knew it would come.

We settled back into the game and pretty soon the second quarter was drawing to a close. Even before halftime came though, Mike pressed the screen of his phone, then handed it to me. It was recording video, I could see. "You're the cameraman, kiddo," Mike growled.

"For what?" I asked.

"Guess," he winked. And like that he got off the couch and got down in front of me. I spread my legs to give him room and then after a second of surprise aimed the phone to capture Daddy Mike looking up, lewdly pawing my crotch before pulling the elastic over my hard dong. I was long enough that my cock had been constrained diagonally in the shorts, but now it jerked up to a full standing position off my light treasure trail and abs. I knew I was hung, and Mike had been reminding me of that fact, but damn... watching myself on the phone camera, with Mike's face leaning into lick me, I looked big.

I recorded Daddy Mike slow teasing my prick then taking me into his talented mouth. You could even see the Bears game in the background as I started to get a blowjob. It was hard to hold the phone steady as Mike went further down on me, but I did my best.

It was four minutes of glorious head. Thankfully our fuck earlier had taken the edge off and I could enjoy the silky wet sensations of his mouth and throat working me up and down as well as the thrill of seeing him struggle to deep throat me at one point.

He finally pulled off and let my big cock slip out wet between his lips. "OK, kiddo..." he said. "You can turn it off."

I nodded and Mike gingerly slipped my shorts back on, tucking my hard dong back into its diagonal position and patting my thigh before standing up. "Save the rest till later?" he asked.

"Yeah," I nodded enthusiastically. "That was hot," I said.

"I'm glad fella," he said looking down on me. "Gonna go piss.... need anything?"

I wondered if I should ask for another beer, but I was still working on the second and didn't want to get too drunk. We had more sex ahead and I really wanted to enjoy it to it's fullest. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks."

Halfway through the third quarter, I felt my phone buzz. It was a text from Connor.

"Hey Jase. Date was a fucking bust. Stay out as long as you like. Sorry I was an ass earlier."

I smiled. Me and my brother could butt heads sometimes but we could also be tight as good buds, too.

I looked over at Mike, who was engrossed in a challenged ref call. I thought of what he'd said earlier. It was a crazy idea, but deep down I knew it would be a blast if Connor went for it.

"If you feel like coming over, I'm sure Mike could take care of you," I typed.

"Ha, that'd be weird," Connor wrote. The tough thing about text is you can't always tell what someone is thinking.

"Maybe. But hot," I typed. I realized now how invested I was in this fantasy of having a threesome with Connor. Even if we fucked Mike separately, I wanted to fuck on my big brother's spunk again, like that first afternoon in the house.

"Jesus." Connor typed. Then, "You sure, bro?"

"Yeah, C" I wrote. "Very sure." I was boning as I typed. Maybe I was thinking with my dick, but I wanted to see this happen now.

I didn't hear back from Connor, though. Not until the 4th quarter.

"What's the address?" he typed.

I figured I should ask Mike to double check. "Hey," I said. "We you serious about my brother?"

The man was very much in that "don't bother me, I'm watching the game" mode, but I guess this question was an exception.

"Um yeah. Why do you ask, stud?"

I grinned, since I was the one with the big surprise to spring. "He's wanting to come over. Not sure what he's comfortable doing, though."

Mike smiled. Up close I could see that salt-and-pepper in his stubble. "Just as long as he doesn't mind sloppy seconds, kiddo... you let me pretty loaded up earlier."

And like that he was kissing me softly, lots of tongue, till he pulled it back and let me take charge of the kiss.

I pulled back and texted my brother the address. I was boned as fuck now. I hope I hadn't made a mistake, but Connor and I could figure it out later if it got too weird.

My brother must have been hard up and his Uber made good time, because it wasn't long before Mike's buzzer rang. I watched the beefy daddy get up and go over to answer, then let my brother up.

I stayed on the couch, trying to keep my attention to the final moments of the game, but I heard the door open and Connor's voice from the other room. "Hey," he said, half laughing, half nervous.

"Come in, bud," came Mike's deep voice. There was some whispering, then two of them walked in, Mike's paws on Connor's shoulders, half massaging the delts, half guiding him inside.

"Your brother here prefers it one-on-one time... OK with you studly?" he winked.

I nodded, daring to catch Connor's gaze. He now knew I was up for a threesome and I felt exposed in my perverse desire. His eyes though were reassuring, telling me he wasn't mad. Just uncomfortable with going all the way.

"Yeah, cool," I said, passing it off. "Have fun Connor."

"Yeah," my brother laughed. A little embarrassed. Maybe he felt weird to be angling in on his little bro's fuck date. Or maybe he didn't like me seeing that he wasn't as 100 percent straight as he maybe considered himself.

But Mike led him to the bedroom. Thank god he kept the door open. Maybe that was a gift to me, but Daddy Mike was a total exhibitionist, it didn't surprise me.

I heard more whispers, then Connor's excited sex grunts. They were taking their time but pretty soon I heard fucking. Connor's higher pitched groans and Mike's booming voice. "Fuck me, guy! Punch my guts! Yeah... right fucking there buddy.... Make Daddy proud!"

Jesus. Maybe Mike did the Dad talk with all the guys he hooked up with, but the idea that Connor had incestuous fantasies about our Dad was pretty wild.

I slipped down my shorts. I didn't out right jerk off, but I slowly massaged my huge bone, feeling the sap of my precum wet down my length.

I was so distracted I didn't hear them stop. But Mike spoke to me, his naked furry body looking magnificent, his dick standing straight up and dripping. "Hey kiddo... your big bro says it's Ok if you wanna join." Not pressuring me but offering.

I let go of my cock instantly. I could have nutted the idea was so intense. "Yeah," I answered and got up off the couch. I kicked off those Bears shorts and sauntered in, fully hard to join them.

There was a camera set up on a tripod, and another angled from the side. Fuck. I found the idea didn't bother me. Not if Connor was OK with it.

There was my big brother. Not as big as me body wise, but older and looking more collegiate. Handsome, cute, beautiful, I don't even know the right word. He forced a smile but seemed genuinely turned on by seeing me walk in. "Damn, Jase," he said. "You're a fucking porn star..."

I was used to the Daddy Mike treatment, but the ego boost from my big brother was something else. "Literally..." I laughed, nodding to the cameras.

Mike got on the bed to join my brother. "No faces, like I said fellas. And I'll let you approve before I post. But damn, a brother scene is special."

I then watched as Daddy Mike leaned over and started sucking my brother's lubed, throbbing cock.

"Oh FUCK!" Connor hissed, keeping his eyes on me. Then, "Hope you don't think less of me, bro."

I got up on the bed, lying next to Connor. Not trying to spook him or anything, but I wanted to be close to him and get a good view of him getting head. "What do you think I've been doing all weekend."

His eyes were going back from watching Mike suck him and back up to look at me. "Guess you really took to it, huh?"

I nodded. "Thanks for letting me, Connor," I said. My head inched forward, and his inched toward me too.

We were kissing. Brother on brother kiss. I didn't even know if Connor kissed guys. Maybe he didn't. But he was kissing me now. Tongue and all. It was different than Mike's kissing. Less sexual and maybe less romantic. But very skilled.

My prick jerked wildly. I didn't even know what the attraction to Connor was about, but I was very into the taboo of it.

Daddy Mike was sucking me now, pinching the base of my prick to keep me from cumming. Connor pulled back from our kiss to watch.

"You have a huge dick, Jason," he said. "Bigger than mine."

"Not by a lot," I said. "I love your cock, Connor."

He grinned. And like that we were kissing again. And Daddy Mike went back to suck Connor. Then me.

Then Mike pulled off. "Goddamn," he hissed. "Two fucking brothers," he growled.

I thought he'd go back to sucking Connor but instead he scrambled up and straddled my brother's waist, reaching back to guide the big dong into place.

"Fuck yeah!" Mike cried as Connor breached that slut hole again. By now both of us had opened up Mike's hole for business and the man didn't take long in being able to bounce up and down on a solid seven inches of Connor's meat. Then further... down to the pubes.

He looked over at me with an impish look on his face. "Wanna make Date Night complete, kiddo?" he asked.

I didn't know what he meant, and it showed on my face.

I could tell Daddy Mike was enjoying the hell out of this. Being wantonly sexual with two younger men, but also running the show. He cocked his head some. "Get back behind me and join your big brother up there."

I thought I'd cum, hands free. As it was my dick spurted out a healthy wad of milky precum. Maybe I wouldn't last in my first DP but I'd try this while the invitation stood.

I scrambled into place, feeling up Mike's strong meaty back and seeing the slight love handles from his beefiness as he wiggled his ass some on Connor's lap and then sat perfectly still. Waiting for me.

The entry was tough, but my cock was steel hard and very wet. I worked open the ring and after a half minute I was slipping inside him. Next to Connor.

"Jesus Christ!" my brother gasped. He could feel it, my prick sliding alongside his. It was tight, very tight wedged up inside Mike's guts, and it got tighter the more I pushed in.

"God fucking damn," Mike hissed. A lot of discomfort along with a clear sexual excitement. I worried now, because I couldn't see Mike's face to know when it was too much for him.

"Connor..." I said. "Tell me if I need to slow down," I said.

"Yeah," I heard my brother reply. My hands were on Mike's hips now, and I felt my brothers fingers touch over them. It was wild and hot. "Fuck him, Jase."

I did. Slow, deep. It was becoming my signature move, only Mike was feeling with two O'Brien dongs inside him at once. Double dicked, brother fucked.

The lewdness inspired me to give the best fuck I could. Fucking not only for Mike but for Connor too. I wanted my big bro know I was grown up for real.

Remarkably, even though I was doing the thrusting, Connor was the one who came first. "Oh Christ," he hissed loudly and I felt the slickness of my brother's seed flood around my cock. It was hot and magnificent. In a fucked up way I loved my brother, and that realization had me shooting hard. All around Connor's prick and really fill up Mike's bowels.

The big man was now tensing in my grip and I gathered he was having his deep orgasm now. Delayed from earlier, Mike was now nutting super heavy. His body hot as I leaned into him and whispered in to his ear. "Go for it, Dad... come with your boys inside you..." He practically cooed when I said that.

There was no small amount of awkwardness when we unpaired, but I didn't give a fuck. I felt like a stud and a half and I wasn't in the mood to feel apologetic or hesitant for enjoying that threesome.

Mike went to wash off. It was crazy to see the confident sure bottom walk dazed and still out of it to the master bathroom.

Connor seemed quiet, almost sulky, but I gave him a playful punch to the arm. "Come on, bro... it's cool. We're just having fun, OK?"

That seemed to calm him some and he flashed me a little smile. "OK, Jason.... but not a fucking word to anyone about this, OK?"

"Chill, dude," I said. "Of course I'm not gonna tell anyone."

We got dressed and pretty soon Mike was out, slipping on those sweat pants again.

"Damn fellas... guess you should be careful what you ask for huh? You guys really worked over my ass, all right."

Connor smirked. I probably did too.

"We should go," my brother said. Looking over at me in his bossy big-bro mode. I think he thought I'd try to sleep over at Mike's.

"Well thanks for a fuck I'll remember for a long time," Mike said. Laid back as hell. I decided whoever I ended up with would need to be open about sex. Maybe not as open as Daddy Mike, but I preferred this to all the doubts I'd had over the last few years. It was a breath of fresh air.

Mike stepped up and gave Connor a soft kiss. My brother accepted it, to my surprise. Then Mike kissed me. "Enjoy the rest of your visit, Pre Frosh," he whispered. "And hit me up. Anytime."

"Yeah," I muttered, my heart pounding a little. I was a little embarrassed now for Connor to see me crush out on a man who was clearly just in it for a lay. "Thanks, Mike."

Connor and I were quiet on the Uber ride back to campus and the fraternity house. But when we settled into his room, he pulled out a bong and we got high. And he relaxed some.

"So... you into older guys, Connor?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe not exclusively, but I'd love to date one... see what it's like.... guess I have to wait for college though.... fuck!" The reality of my hometown was coming back to me. Parents. School. My team.

Connor seemed concerned. "I got your back Jason. You know that, right?"

"Thanks, Connor," I said.

It was half the pot speaking, but my brother looked handsome as fuck just then. I hoped he found a good girlfriend, he was good looking enough to be choosy.

Connor smirked. "Thanks for inviting me tonight... guess I really needed a good lay."

"Glad you were cool with it," I said. "Hope I didn't fuck things up."

He shook his head. "You've just surprised me this weekend, that's all." He took another toke, held it in and blew it out, all while keeping his eyes on me. "My fucking lacrosse jock brother," he laughed.

I laughed too.

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

hey so i’m new to the community fandom and i really love trobed. i was wondering what was your trobed centric episode masterlist like? or if it’s possible, is there a way to send me the post? sorry i’m new to tumblr so i’m still learning how this app works. if you see this, thanks :)

hi, welcome! I've found that community tumblr is probably my favorite fandom space I've ever been involved in, and I hope you've had a good experience so far. I totally get the New App Learning Curve thing, I'm historically very shit at learning how to use new apps, even though I'm "young" (20), but I eventually got it and you will too, Trust 👍👍👍

anyway, Yes one of the first things I did on here after joining was make a trobed-centric episode masterlist for someone who was asking lmfao. since it was one of the First things I did there's some formatting and other things I'd do differently now, and I've actually been looking for an excuse to go ahead and get that done, so. here we go.

the trobed-centric episode masterlist (revamped)

1x05: advanced criminal law

plot B

abed takes the "friends mess with each other" rule too far; he creates a whole fake language and spends a lot of money on trying to convince troy that he is an alien

"from now on, abed, friends don't mess with each other"

(this is the first time they do their signature handshake)

1/5 gayness, pretty platonic

1x10: environmental science

plot B

it's the "somewhere out there" episode what more do I need to say

3/5 gayness, something's happening fs

1x11: the politics of human sexuality

plot C

abed keeps beating troy in athletic competitions, making troy feel threatened. he eventually admits that abed is the better athlete and they make up

2/5 gayness, pretty platonic but it has its moments

1x22: the art of discourse

plot C

troy and abed work to complete abed's list of quintessential freshman year of college experiences list

2/5 gayness, they repeatedly put completing the list above looking cool in front of women

1x25: pascal's triangle revisited

plot C

troy is moving out of his dad's house and wants to move in with abed, but abed says no because he's afraid being that close and spending that much time together will result in constant annoyance, and will destroy their friendship

troy realizes that "too much of a good thing can be bad" and instead agrees to move in with pierce

1/5 gayness

2x02: accounting for lawyers

part of plot A

jeff gets sucked back into his old life as he reconnects with alan, a coworker from his old law firm. troy, abed, and annie try to gather proof that jeff's friend is the one who got him fired in the first place

more trobedison centric, and is actually the first episode where the three of them are established as a Trio™

"all I heard was suck" "YOU CHLOROFORMED THE JANITOR" "I usually have one foot out of reality and even I'm freaking out right now"

1/5 gayness, pretty platonic. they're the sillies ever I love trobedison

2x06: epidemiology

part of plot A

it's the zombie episode, come ON

trobed have coordinating costumes but troy bails during the party because he doesn't want to look lame and nerdy in front of women, which hurts abed's feelings

abed sacrifices himself to save troy once they are the last two standing during the "rabies pathogen" breakout

"I love you" "I know" (oh my GODDD sedate me)

5/5 gayness. you get it.

2x09: conspiracy theories and interior design

plot B

the original blanket fort 💯💯💯

2/5 gayness, just guys bein silly (and in love???)

2x15: early 21st century romanticism

plot B

troy and abed fall for the same girl and decide to take her to the valentine's dance together, after which she can decide which one of them she wants to date

she picks troy, but troy gets upset that she didn't pick abed (because why wouldn't she pick abed, he's so cool) and breaks it off almost immediately

I"happy valentine's day" "it is now"

5/5 gayness jesus christ this one is INSANE

2x18: custody law and eastern european diplomacy

plot B

britta likes troy and abed's new friend, lukka, who she finds out is a literal war criminal. she keeps this information from troy and abed because she doesn't want to ruin their friendship with him, but they find out eventually

2/5 gayness they're attached at the hip in this one

2x19: critical film studies

random moments

this episode is more focused on jeff and abed, but there's a lot of classic Troy Gets Jealous™ moments so I decided to include it. plus the end tag is them randomly having dinner together at the fancy restaurant (a date 😔)

basically troy is afraid that jeff is a cooler friend to abed than him

3/5 gayness even though they barely interact, troy is so silly

2x20: competitive wine tasting

part of plot B

I almost didn't include this one, and it's not even on my original list, but whatever

troy pretends to be traumatized, originally to seem less shallow in his acting class, but he keeps it going in order to attract britta. he tells abed about it and abed Does Not Like That At All

"troy. nothing good can come of this"

I wouldn't call abed being jealous a Rare Occurrence but he generally conceals it way better than troy does

2/5 gayness, could be interpreted as abed just worried about relationships forming under false pretense, but to Me he's jealous

2x22: applied anthropology and culinary arts

plot C

pierce buys the rights to troy and abed's handshake (a la Indecent Proposal) which "corrupts" it

"pierce tainted our special handshake with his blood money and now we can't get the magic baaaack :((((("

eventually they do indeed get the magic back

3/5 gayness idk there's something about the way they interact in this one that is inexplicably gay to me lmao

3x01: biology 101

plot C plus random moments

"speaking of figuring things out, me and abed have an announcement" "..." "troy and I are living together :D"

cougartown gets moved to midseason, then cougarton abbey ends after 6 episodes, abed's routine keeps getting thrown off, and troy is just extremely supportive and protective throughout

4/5 gayness troy loves him a lot!!!!!!

3x03: remedial chaos theory

random moments

(I know this ep is listed as 3x04 on streaming services but in canon it takes place here and on the dvds it's listed as 3x03. there's a joke about it in the episode too if you didn't know. anyway)

"troy and abed's new apartment!!!" "bienvenido a la casa chez trobed!" "wanna stay up all night talking in our bunk beds?"

all their pictures on the wall and their matching suits lol

the end tag "evil troy and evil abed" & troy's soft "what's wrong :("

3/5 gayness they're lowkey married your honor

3x05: horror fiction in seven spooky steps

random moments

troy's whole story he tells where they Literally become attached at the hip

"my partner"

troy dancing while abed's humming daybreak

2/5 gayness

3x06: advanced gay

plot B

troy deciding whether he wants to do plumbing or air conditioning and deciding all he really wants to do is watch tv with abed

gay symbolism? gay symbolism? gay symbolism?

4/5 gayness mostly for the conversation at the hawthorne wipes gathering. I could write an essay on just that

3x07: studies in modern movement

plot A

annie moves in with troy and abed. very trobedison centric

"kiss me woodsman troy!"

3/5 gayness once again casually in love they're soulmates your honor

3x09: foosball and nocturnal vigilantism

plot B

annie breaks abed's $200 special edition dark knight dvd set on accident, trobedison shenanigans ensue yippee!!!

"awww is that the grappling hook I got you for christmas???"

3/5 gayness for the same reasons as before

3x10: regional holiday music

part of plot A

literally putting this on here just because of the christmas infiltration rap (and baby boomer santa)

3/5 gayness it's glee club what can you do

3x11: contemporary impressionists

plot A

(once again, I know this episode is listed as 3x12 on streaming services, but in canon it's supposed to chronologically be here, and is listed as 3x11 on the dvds)

the study group helps abed pay off his debts to a celebrity impersonator website by playing characters at a bar mitzvah (after troy scolds them for trying to ground abed in reality)

they have an argument at the end ugh

3/5 gayness troy loves abed a lot and abed doesn't realize that he's doing something wrong

3x12: urban matrimony and the sandwich arts

plot C

(see the above disclaimer about episode order)

troy and abed decide to be normal for shirley's wedding rehearsal

troy and abed being normal 🤝

4/5 gayness they blow off a girl to be weird again

3x13: digital exploration of interior design

plot C

blanket fort: redux (oh god)

vice dean laybourne escalates what started as a minor disagreement in order to drive a wedge between troy and abed. it works

5/5 gayness, if a sitcom doesn't have the two codependent fanonical gays go through an unnecessarily dramatic "break up" then I don’t want it

3x14: pillows and blankets

plot A

🎶troy and abed are in conflict🎶 *cries*

pillow fort vs. blanket fort

they eventually make up but not before they hurt each others' feelings a Lot

5/5 gayness the dramatics jesus christ

3x16: virtual systems analysis

random moments

so this episode is more focused on abed and annie, and troy and abed actually don't Technically interact with each other very much at all, but. you know

abed kinda freaks out when troy and britta go on a date because it "messes with the fabric of the group" (🤨 I know what you are)

troy calls annie to "check on abed" boy you are on a date with a woman

4/5 gayness just from subtext you get it

3x17: basic lupine urology

random moments

troy and abed play detective as they try to figure out who sabotaged the group's biology project

"we can't both do the zinger"

4/5 gayness no explanation

3x19: curriculum unavailable

random moments

the study group is expelled from greendale and abed gets arrested for spying on campus, so he's supposed to have a psychological evaluation

troy is just very protective of him in this episode, plus the flashback clip where he and Annie are comforting him as he's freaking out about daylight savings

"our adventures are VERY manly"

4/5 gayness

3x21: the first chang dynasty

random moments

oof baboof with you two! (all the plumber shenanigans are hilarious)

mostly putting this one on here for the goodbye scene at the end of the episode, though. god

"he said, 'I know you hate when people do this in movies.' sorry I got emotional"

3x22: introduction to finality

plot B

abed "goes crazy" without troy (who's off at a/c repair school)

when troy comes back he prioritizes abed over britta (who he supposedly has romantic feelings for)

"I miss abed so much" "you're afraid you'll go crazy without troy"

4/5 gayness one could say they're a little codependent

4x03: conventions of space and time

plot A

troy gets jealous of (read: goes "psycho girlfriend on") abed's new inspector spacetime superfan friend toby

britta, even as troy's literal girlfriend, calls abed troy's boyfriend and supports troy through the whole thing

"for the first time in my long history of being locked inside things, I knew someone would come" let me just put my head through my wall really quick

5/5 gayness even though troy has a whole gf. that's how gay this episode is

4x11: basic human anatomy

plot A

troy and abed pretend to switch bodies, like in freaky friday, in order to help troy process his feelings about his relationship with britta

5/5 gayness holy SHIT y'all. I could write thousands of words on this episode. it is so hard to justify troy's actions in this one without reading him as a closeted gay person not lying

5x03: basic intergluteal numismatics

random moments

including this one because of how abed comforts troy and pushes him around in a wheelchair for the entire episode

3/5 gayness it's the casual married-ness again smh

5x04: cooperative polygraphy

random moments

this is another one I didn't include on my original list but I decided fuck it

the bit uncovering the actual origin of their patented handshake is so funny "I can't even look at you right now" "then you should know I'm crying"

also just the. look on abed's face when troy agrees to go on the trip at the end. "cool. cool cool cool." "that's a lie" UGHHHHH

4/5 gayness again. so typical

5x05: geothermal escapism

plot A

do I need to say a word

ouch ouch ouch OUCH

5/5 gayness especially the deleted dialogue from the last scene (I've posted it before but lmk if you don't know what I'm talking about. disclaimer it makes me want to launch myself off the empire state building)

alright. there it is folks. I was going to make another subsection of other random iconic trobed moments and cite the episodes they're from but basically every single episode has at least one, so that list would be Way too long to qualify as a supplement to this one lmao. however! if you have a Trobed Moment™ stuck in your head (or any Moment for that matter) and you can't remember which episode it's from feel free to ask me, I'm confident that my internal community database will be able to Remind You. anyway. hope this was helpful. bye

[lutawolf]

The Sign Commentary Review Ep 3

I'm saying fuck it and doing this commentary anyways, even though it's way late. (my kid got into a car accident. Fuck this year.) Anyways I think I'm hilarious so here we go.

Home dude really just let Tharn get kidnapped and looks so lost about it. Hahah! The friend group drinking at the idea of Phaya and Tharn having sex. So dead.

The way these coconuts are stirring up Phaya. And why did his brain go straight to shower. He is so obvious and doesn't even care. Then races out to call the man. Like, are you just now realizing what is going on. This is real life drunkenness, I swear. When Chalothon shows up in the camera feed, it's a total audacity of this bitch moment.

Good news, Chalothon is not having any luck controlling Tharn either. The faces Phaya makes at his phone.

HAHAHA! Phaya's face when he gets back to the table and sees all the guys. He went from being on top of the world to a no good, shitty day real fast. Poor baby, lol.

Phaya's book collection has me jealous. The music playing while he is visualizing the girl. Especially with those subs (mysterious music playing). 🤣🤣🤣 The whole scene with the sister, omg. (mysterious music) (footstep sounds) (footstep sounds) (mysterious music) Phaya's eyes shifting as if in panic. All very dramatic.

Grandma is so pretty!!! She's hilarious too.

Somebody got romance on the brain! I mean, I'm only guessing, between the closeness and the subtitles telling me that romantic music is playing. Then dreams of cuddling Tharn. Cute! I like how the lighting makes them look like they are underwater.

Boy woke up so confused. "I must have thought about him too much." Ya think?!?

Phaya is a talented artist. He has a lot of art of a boy also a side profile of a female. The one we can't see clearly makes me think of the dragon from the water. Is the cat a Cha Kla? Cha Kla is a mythological cat from Thailand.  Legend says that the Ch Kla are terrified of humans and will hide from them, but if they are seen or touched, that person will eventually die. However, they are usually black, where this is white with black surrounding it.

Grandma, "Are they twins?" Then Phaya goes on to fill her in on everything. These two have a very close relationship.

"Did I do anything weird last night?" Boy, that is a loaded question. Ya'll Yai is adorable. He is for sure one of my favorite side characters.

Doc... I'm having doubts that I'm gonna like you. You've barely talked, but you have slime ball written all over you. And what is up with Tharn saying that him and Phaya aren't that close??? Clearly he isn't that close to the Doc if he is hiding stuff.

Nong Khai!!! Nong (low area like a swamp) Khai (lost) is situated on the banks of the majestic Mekong River, one of the world’s longest and most iconic rivers. It's also a very important pilgrimage for Buddhist because of a revered Buddhist stupa that dates back to the 16th century and is believed to contain relics of the Lord Buddha. You know what else it's known for?? Nagas. These mythical creatures are semidivine beings that are serpent shape-shifters. Whether it is a human form, full serpent, or half serpent, half-human form, the Nagas can take up whatever shape they prefer. They are a strong and attractive species, who are regarded as guardians of treasure which resides in the underwater kingdom of Patala-Loka or Naga-Loka, a stunning place decorated in gems.

Now I'm really excited!

💜💜💜 I'm dying. "She's gorgeous." "I know that, but she's also very scary. I'm afraid of her." This honestly makes me like him even more. NGL. They are pretty close with the Abbott. Aww, poor Yai getting ganged up on. *Snickers*

Clues! "While you’re staying here. Let me warn you about something. Make sure you often meditate and dedicate the merits to those whom you have wronged in the past. So that it would help lighten the consequences of your karma. Got it?"

"Is he still not free from them? They’ve been after him since when he was born. That’s why he had to live at the temple. What do they want from him? Why are they so vengeful?"

Shot to sad Abbott and sad Tharn.

Phaya asking the Abbott if he remembers him. Give me answers! Give me! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, Finally!!! It's come out that he is the boy that was saved by him!

And we crash again. That's so fucking sad, is this why he thinks the people he loves dies??? "Everything has already been destined. His life is written by the karma he did in his past life." This is so fucking sad. But wait! There is hope! "His destiny has been entwined with someone since his past life. That person will lead him to experience bad things. But it is also that person who would be able to free him from his karma."

Okay, so the Rocket Festival they are talking about and why the date is significant. The Rocket Festival is usually celebrated on the weekends in the middle of May, just before the start of the crop plantation period (the rainy season). This ancient festival is a merit-making ceremony which involves firing home-made rockets towards the heavens to captivate the rain gods and hope for a good monsoon season before the crop plantations take place.

"Whether you’d be free from those whom you have wronged in the past... depends on whether you’d be able to find the owner of this amulet tonight." Damn, that's not ominous. Poor fucking kid.

Ahhhhh, this is when his visions started! No thoughts, he just dives in. This boy does not deserve to have to pay for his past life! I absolve him! You live by a river, and you're just shaking him? Fucking turn him over and smack his back!

Past, Phaya is so puppy dog.

Wait! You forgot to give him the amulet!!! Dumbass kids. Always forget the important part. I mean... Well, I guess saving a person from drowning is the important part, but you know what I mean! Oh good, Phaya found him.

"So, he would probably live for a very long time. But you have to be careful though. If both of your destiny are entwined like what I think... You would eventually find each other again."

And clearly, Yai has always been the way he has been since forever.

Naga! He dreams of Nagas! Usually the festival associated with Naga is the Naga Fireball Festival. Which is celebrated in the fall or Buddhist Lent period. In this festival, people gather along a certain stretch of the Mekong River, to witness glowing red 'fireballs' shoot up into the sky. The number of fireballs sighted can range from hundreds to thousands. The local people attribute this phenomenon to the mythical 'Phaya Nak', a giant serpent that they believe resides within the river.

Okay, I'll shut up now and get back to the show.

"He doesn’t know how to swim. But he still wants to go and play near the riverbank."

"Grandma, I really heard someone calling me there last night."

That's just a great kid. We almost saw the Darwin Theory in action. The stupid shall not inherit the earth. Gee wiz, I hear disembodied voices, let's go investigate near water where I can not swim. This is like me hearing a gun shot and going to check it out. No, I don't want to die, I'm not that noisy. The unknown can stay unknown. Phaya as a kid was so soft and shy. Boy has he changed!

WTF is not wanting to take the amulet. Don't be an ungrateful asshole, kid. Tharn takes no shit, even as a kid.

"What you saw wasn’t a dream. It was your karma." "Are you saying that... they are those whom I have wronged in my past life?"

We're getting closer to answers! Ahhh, we're talking more about the Naga!!! So Tharn was a Naga in a past life??

"You both are destined to help each other Trust each other. Only then, you would be able to free yourself from your karma. Your kind hearts are your best weapon. And remember to always trust each other. Help each other. And you both would live a happy life, like you’ve always dreamt of." Sounds simple enough... (dumdumdum aka thunder sounds)

Oh snap! We got some bad weather! Okay, so Naga have different classes. From the general Nagas who have large bodies like great serpents with a crest on the head and strong poison to the celestial ones who have several heads with lethal poison and supernatural power such as disguising themselves more than just as a human being. Furthermore, certain ones can effect rain. The power to bring rain or cause drought by stop giving it. Some beliefs say they can disguise themselves as rain clouds and/or rainbows. That is why the quote for the Rocket Festival is "How much water will the Naga give this year."

Ohhh, who could this be? The king of Naga? There are a few options, so I won't hazard a guess just yet.

Can I just say that I'm loving that Phaya is chasing after scared Tharn. Yai and Phaya hugging like they didn't just get drunk together the night before. 🤣🤣🤣

"It was quite dark, so I didn't know he actually looks like this." OMG, I'm Dead. Hahaha Yai... I can see why you and your gf fit together.

Ahhhh I'm loving this so much!! You see the Naga decorations on the bridge?? This is in association with their connection to rainbows. The rainbow signifies the bridge between earth and the underworld. Sorry if this shit is boring, you guys! Like I said earlier, I'm way late, and so I'm just writing about what I find interesting. Because I refuse to force beliefs on my children, I give them books on world religions and beliefs. I read it so that I can help them as they read what they are interested in. I find all this stuff so captivating.

The way Yai looks at his girl. So sweet.

Okay, I see what they are doing here with the dream, but I'm dead. That hair and his facial expression. Like he is seconds away from laughing at himself. I would love to see BTS of this part right here.

Look at Phaya just calling Tharn out. Like Bitch, try and run from me. "Why didn't you want to tag along with us."

Isn't that where he was sitting when he had the vision? Phaya, you wish he was hitting on you, lol.

Not matching clothes!!! Tharn bitching all the time but damned if he didn't put on the matching clothes.

He left her cause she was naga! What!

Yes, he is telling you that you are the cause of his bad dreams. But he still wants you to stick around so nevermind.

I love these fools. I love grandma. Now everyone knows that Phaya is the boy that was saved.

I like Sand.

"If what you said is true, Yai and I both love you like our own brother... but we’re still safe and sound."

"Don’t let what the Abbot has predicted come true." Grandma come back! Explain this to me...

Hahah! Tharn is so sassy. "Did you use this kind of story to hit on the girls in France?"

See, no hiding for Phaya. He just straight up tells Tharn that he likes him. I think evil jellyfish is a new favorite nickname for me. I really want to read this book but it's like 15 bucks. Crazy!

AHHH! They finally kiss!!! "And this is called a goodnight kiss."

Tharn's face when Phaya says goodnight. Bless the poor boy. Well fuck, we getting stormy weather over a kiss? What the hell is gonna happen when they do more!?! I think I liked it better when the sex just woke up the evil twin, not cause destruction of humanity. Tharn is cute but I don't know that he is Noah Arc worth it kind of cute. Just saying.

Running scared! But that's okay cause Phaya is very willing to chase. Even tackle.

"Do you want to get hurt?" Phaya over here like, yes please. With a cherry on top. I love the cockiness of both of them. I adore when Phaya puts his tongue in his cheek. These two! Thank you Saint! You are a blessing amongst men. I really enjoy this kind of foreplay. No punches were pulled. Noticed Phaya is wearing the talisman.

Ahhh, it's the forcing him to submit and then telling him he is a good boy for me.

I’m Police Major Akkanee Assawawaisoon, your team leader. Yay! He is back!

I love these coconuts. Tharn going and sitting by your brother, Phaya is going to kick your ass again.

Ahhhhhh. I'm so excited for this saturday!

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Life drawing

Nude model!reader x art student!Zoro.

Modern AU. Sequel to The art model.

This fic is dedicated to @star-yawnznn.

*****

Zoro grins when, opening the house door, he finds himself face to face with a bag of delicious chocolate cookies, courtesy of your mother's bakery, that you're offering him with your arms raised, like a celebrant sacrificing to the Gods.

"You know, there's no need for you to bring something every time you come; you're already doing me a favour."

You shrug as you walk inside, letting him close the door behind you. "Even though he doesn't put on weight, eating so much can't be good for Luffy's health." you point out "And I know you like them."

"Well, they are good..."

You share a smile as you follow him towards the kitchen (like the rest of the house a spacious room, perfectly clean and tidy) where, without even bothering to ask, Zoro uses the enormous coffee machine on the counter to prepare a drink like he knows you like it.

Six months have passed since your first meeting with Zoro at the East Blue Art School, six months since you accepted his request to pose for him privately at home as well as in Shanks' class - your home, at first, since he needed to keep his interest in drawing and art, not to mention the fact he hasn't stopped attending the school years ago, a secret from his father. Unfortunately, last month your landlord has decided to host his niece in the flat's spare room, while she searches for a more stable accommodation. Even more regrettably, your new, temporary flatmate is an aspiring metal guitarist, who told you she needs to practice at least six hours a day if she wants to join one of the best bands in town, which means the place has not known a moment of silence ever since she put down her luggage, as well as her guitar, in the hallway.

Which is why in the last four weeks you have been the one going to Zoro's, instead of the other way around. It's a temporary solution, you have assured him, feeling guilty for the nuisance even though nothing of it was your fault, and hoping you will soon have the whole flat to yourself once more, even though your landlord's niece has not been as industrious in looking for a new place to stay as she has been in preparing for her musical career. You know how important his drawing classes are to Zoro, but he assured you it wouldn't be a problem: his father, a business broker who also manages a fencing school, has recently landed an important client that keeps him at work every day until late.

And so, your already familiar arrangement has changed, the location of your private modelling session shifting from your flat to Zoro's home. You don't mind - you actually like it, and not just because it allows you to get away from your flatmate's guitar for a while. You like going to Zoro's; you like Zoro himself, you have come to realize, and while you do not yet feel ready to confess your feelings, you enjoy spending time with him, and helping him to improve as an artist.

"How was your day? You had a double shift today, if I'm not mistaken." you point out as you accept the coffee Zoro is offering you, and listen as he tells you about his day at work, at the bookstore owned by his friend Kuina's father "You know, I'd be curious to see the shop one day, after you've told me so much about it..."

"You can come whenever you want; I can give you a discount, if Koushirou is not there." he offers, and winks at you; he's wearing a black shirt that makes the green of his hair stand out even more than usual, his three earrings dangling gently when he moves.

"Well, there was a book I was thinking about buying..."

Chocolate cookies, you both agree, go splendidly with coffee. You enjoy your break in silence, at ease next to each other in the kitchen lit up by the soft sunset glow; according to Luffy, Zoro doesn't make friends easily, and you are pretty proud you are now part of that narrow group - or at least, that he doesn't appear to mind you coming to his house.

"Shall we?" you propose in the end; as much as you enjoy his company, the time at your disposal is limited, since you still have work to do for your classes tomorrow "You want to continue with what we were doing last time? I was lying on one side with a book in my hands..."

"Actually..."

"Yes?"

Suddenly tense, Zoro rubs the back of his head, hesitating for a moment as if not knowing how to broach a delicate subject. "I was wondering if this time we could do something a bit different."

Your sessions with Zoro, whether at his place or yours, usually follow the same pattern. Every two times, he asks you to assume a new pose: standing, sitting (on a kitchen chair, on a stool, on the floor...) or lying on the sofa, sometimes with an object in your hands but usually in a way that allows you to read or review your notes. Once you are comfortable, Zoro makes sure the room is well-lit, places a comfortable chair in front of you, retrieves his sketchbook and pencils from the suitcase he keeps them hidden in together with his art school books to make sure his father doesn't find them, and gets to work, drawing diligently for an hour and a half.

It is, in the end, more or less what happens during your classes at the art school; after all Zoro's drawing sessions are the reason you meet, the reason why he asked you to pose for him. You expected to do the same today as well, just like the many times you have met before; you didn't expect him to propose a change... and, you will reflect later on, you have no idea what this day has in store for you.

"What d'you mean?"

Zoro has turned his back to you, focused on the cups you used for your coffee and that he is now washing in the sink "Well... I was thinking today you could pose like you do in class."

"As in...?"

"Naked, yes. Unless, that... bothers you..."

It shouldn't, of course. After all, you have been an art model for six months, and by now you like to think you are quite good at it, since Shanks no longer needs to correct your posture and you can keep the most uncomfortable pose for a long time without complaining, even though the job is more tiring than it looks and in the end your muscles beg for mercy. Besides the fact that it helps you pay rent (you expected your landlord to lower it until his niece found another place to stay, since your apartment is not fully yours anymore, but the thought must have slipped his mind) and your bills, posing is probably the best job you have ever had.

You enjoy it, a lot, in a way you can't properly explain to someone who has never been in your place, and by now you are completely accustomed to pose naked, like you have done from the very first day. Shanks was right, there is nothing sexual, or inappropriate, in being an art model, nothing you should feel guilt or embarrassment for; if the students look at your breast, it is simply to make sure they are correctly drawing it, which is not always easy, and when a couple of months ago, Nami asked you whether you had put on a little weight (you had, no doubt, because of all the treats your mother brings you back from the bakery!) she assured you she only wanted to know because the shape of your belly and thighs had changed marginally and she really wanted to portray you as faithfully as she could. In the end, for the students it wouldn't make much difference if on the stool at the center of their semicircle Shanks had placed a potted plant or a teddy-bear, instead of asking you to sit there, apart from the fact that the human form has been the most popular art subject since time immemorial, and any artist must be capable to competently reproduce it.

You expected your sessions with Zoro to go the same way, which would have been even easier for you, since you would have been in your own home. Instead, the first time he came to your place he said you could keep your clothes on, because the naked body was harder to draw and he, unfortunately, still had to learn to correctly portray clothed people. He had no preference regarding the clothes you wore, and didn't mind to choose poses that allowed you to read or revise your notes during the sessions.

And now this. You should have imagined he would ask you sooner or later, you relect; Zoro's figure drawings have improved since you started posing for him privately, and by now he must feel capable of moving to something more challenging, which means that it is time for you to take your panties off for him - so to speak.

"Of course, if that makes you... uncomfortable, or if you'd rather have someone present..."

"Of course not; it's... all right." you hurry to answer after a moment of uncertainty; after six months of private sessions you had gotten used to posing with your clothes on, but after all it is nothing you haven't done a hundred times already "I didn't bring my night-gown, though."

Zoro gives you this ("It is clean, I swear.") and invites you to leave your clothes in the bathroom near the living room, while he prepares his things.

"I will be just a minute."

"Take your time. Just..." he hesitates, once more as if unsure of what to say, which strikes you as odd - Zoro is not a blabbermouth, but in six months since you met him you never had the impression he was too shy, or afraid, to say what is on his mind. By now you are, if not exactly friends, at least good acquaintances, and you never had troubles finding something to talk about; why does he seem so awkward all of a sudden? What delicate matter is he afraid to broach...? "Listen, you know I'm Luffy friend, do you?"

Considering that your friend's crew has practically adopted you ever since you started posing for their class, so much that you are routinely invited to hang out with them and they all came to your birthday party two months ago, the question sounds unexpected, and weird, at your ears.

"Of course. Why is that relevant now?"

"Nothing. Just... I'll wait for you here, ok?"

Still a little perplexed, you move to the bathroom, where you leave your clothes in a neat pile and refresh yourself; there is nothing more unpleasant than body odour when one is posing, naked or otherwise. Zoro's night-gown is, predictably, not exactly the right fit for you, which shouldn't be a problem, since you are going to take it off in less than a minute, but wearing it feels strange all the same... intimate, in a way. You had never worn a man's clothes before, or rather, no man had ever given you his clothes to wear, and having Zoro do it, even just to avoid having you walk buck naked around his house...

You chide yourself for those naive, childish thoughts, especially towards a man on whom you can no longer deny having a crush, and whose company you genuinely enjoy; you don't want Zoro to think he made you uncomfortable. You are here to pose for him, and pose for him you will, like the professional model you are; everything else doesn't matter... even though you have to admit, you like being alone with Zoro, having his attention focused on you. A secret, innocent joy you allow yourself to indulge in.

You wash away what is left of the make-up you had applied earlier, before heading to work, remain for a moment still, staring at your reflection and reminding yourself you are an adult and ought to behave accordingly, and then leave the bathroom.

Zoro is preparing your station in the living room, with a lamp near the sofa, on which you have already posed lying many times... after taking off your shoes, and nothing else. His sketchbook and pencils are placed on a little table near his favourite chair, retrieved from their hiding spot in the suitcase; propped against the chair's armrest are Zoro's three swords. He doesn't carry them around when he is at home, but, he told you, he always keeps them close, as if expecting to be attacked at any moment, even in the safety of his own home: it is a not uncommon habit among swordsmen, that his master (and father) accustomed him to since he was a child.

He turns, startled a little, when he hears you approach, and when he sees you wearing his night-gown he seems to have troubles swallowing for a moment. "So, uhm, everything ok?"

You wonder whether he expected you to have troubles taking your clothes off. "Sure. So... how do you want me?" you ask back; then, suddenly realizing how that question, that you must have posed a hundred times before, might sound differently from how you had intended it, you hurry to rephrase: "What pose do you want me to assume?"

Zoro asks you to lie in profile, propped on one elbow, with one leg stretched and the other partially bent towards your belly; the pose is similar to one Shanks asked you to assume for a class at the Art School last month, which leads you to suspect Zoro was not satisfied of his work of that day. He looks away, seemingly embarrassed, when he sees you take off his night-gown, even though he saw you do the same at the school a hundred times already.

You don't find it weird. In fact, it might be because you're doing it in a new place for the first time, but for a moment you feel awkward as well, almost as if that gesture had a different meaning, almost as if it mattered...

The night-gown passes from your hand to his; while your gazes don't meet, your hands brush against each other.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem."

A moment later you are lying on the sofa, easily settling in the same position as a few weeks ago.

"Are you comfortable?" Zoro asks you, and you nod, by now used to the slight inconvenience of an unnatural pose, since no one, especially not at your age, has ever died from a stiff arm or a sore leg, and by now Shanks' class has drawn you in positions that wouldn't be out of place in the experts' section of a yoga manual.

"Yeah, don't worry. Can you take my book from my bag, please? I have an exam next week..."

A minute later Zoro is already sitting at his place, the sketchbook balanced on his knee, the by now familiar whisper of the pencil rubbing on the paper filling the room. As usual you remain still as a statue, face lowered on the pages of your book... even though your eyes keep rising to the young man in front of you; at times your gazes meet, and you could swear Zoro's eyes are smiling even though his expression remains serious.

You like this, you have realized for a while, this weird menage you have built together, the chaste intimacy of posing for a single artist and the innocent flattery of having his full attention focused on you - if only because Zoro wants to makes sure he draws the angle of your shoulder as faithfully as he can. You have no idea how long he will need your help for, or if he will ever decide he can do without your private sessions, but you are determined to enjoy it as long as it lasts, and to pose for him every time he asks you to, even if it means sacrificing the little free time school and work leave you; it is a very unexpected sort of relationship, perhaps an anomalous one, intimate and at the same time strictly professional, but you treasure it all the same. Zoro is not a particularly personable man, you have come to suspect, but you know he is fond of you, and appreciates you as a model and a person.

You can't help wanting more. But at the same time you are happy with what you have, and you hope it lasts.

Zoro draws in complete silence for a while, while you revise two chapters of your book, trying to make sense of your own notes.

"You are not cold?" he asks after a while, and you assure him you are all right; you have already noticed Zoro has turned the heating on, no doubt more for your benefit than his, since you are the one who can't simply put a sweater on if she gets chilly. You'll have to thank him.

"My father knows about you, you know." he adds, almost absentmindedly, and your are immediately alarmed.

"What?! He knows...?"

"Not that you pose for me, and I still attend the East Blue; he... he knows I had a girl over, that's it." Zoro explains, face momentarily hidden behind his sketchbook "Last time... I forgot to wash the coffee cups, and he noticed there was a trace of lipstick on the border of one."

"Oh, God, Zoro, I'm sorry..."

"That's ok." he assures you, while a sudden grin blossoms on his lips "He didn't mind, and I doubt he could ever imagine what we do. He just thought... you know..."

You force yourself not to smile. "... that you have a girlfriend?" you finish for him "And that you had taken advantage of his absence to invite her over?"

"Something like that, yes. I... I didn't correct him, I hope you don't mind."

You don't. "I don't." At all. Another small, innocent pleasure, part of a little fantasy you're probably too old for but that in the end doesn't hurt anyone; and truth to be told, you are happy to help Zoro, since you know how much attending the drawing school means to him. You return your attention to your book, but try as you might you really can't focus, let alone memorize the notions on the page in front of you, your eyes simply skimming the text without retaing any information.

And the fault is his. Well, it is yours, to be honest, since you are by now an expert model, not to mention a veteran student and an adult woman, and you should be able to ignore the presence of a man, no matter how handsome, and concentrate on something as important as an imminent exam. For God's sake, Zoro has never skipped a class at the art school, which means that you have taken off your clothes in front of him two times a week for six months! By now he knows your naked body so well he could draw it by heart, and he does need a model, even though his life drawings have improved, it isn't simply a ruse to... meet you in a more private setting and... and... and why are you fantasizing about that, now?!

Oh, God. You do like him, you realize suddenly, much more than you had imagined or allowed yourself to think until today. He is handsome, and athletic, and he has a beautiful smile, but in six months since you first met you have learnt to know Zoro, and to appreciate and respect him as a man and as a friend as well; you like how protective he is of his friends (and of you, given that time that a drunk man approached you as he was walking you back at the bus stop after a drawing session; Zoro drew the Wado Ichimonji and threatened to amputate any part of his body the man would touch you with) and steadfast in the pursuit of his dream, and kind-hearted towards those who suffer or endure injustice, even though those who know him less well wrongly consider him cold and selfish. You are attracted to him, and while you already enjoy being his model and friend, you do wish your relationship would develop beyond that... you wish to be important for him, to feel his gaze brush against your skin and know he is not simply wondering whether he drew your arm faithfully enough or he should start over.

"Shanks is very pleased with your progress." you mention after a while; unlike what happens during class at the art school, where silence is religiously kept from the beginning to the end of the class, Zoro told you he doesn't mind chatting a bit while he draws, and he is exactly the sort of conversationalist you prefer: no interest in small talk, and has always something interesting to say "I heard him saying that at the end of your last class."

Zoro is pleased, even smug, as he smiles and tilts his head to one side, as if to observe you from a marginally different perspective. "He did say I got better at life drawing, even though I shouldn't focus on that and neglect my other classes."

"I'm sure that won't happen."

"I hope not... and in any case, if I improved I also owe it to you. I haven't forgotten how much you're doing for me, (name)."

"I'm doing nothing, just staying still."

"You know what I mean. I know you'd have many better things to do with your time, and you're not even letting me pay you..."

"Zoro... we are friends." you point out, completely serious; you are now looking straight at him, so engrossed in your conversation to notice you have broken the first, cardinal rule for all art models: never change pose mid-session "You know I could never ask you money. I am happy to help you, since I know how much this matters to you."

Zoro looks at you; he has stopped drawing, even through you couldn't say exactly when. "We weren't friends when you accepted to pose for free."

"No, but you were Luffy's friend, which is equally important. Would you have accepted to be paid, if you were in my place?"

"Maybe I would have."

"No, you wouldn't have."

"No, I wouldn't have." he admits, and smiles at you, and you have never wanted to kiss anyone so much in your life "Anyway, I owe you, truly. Thank you."

You assure him you are happy to be his model, and you really are, so much that you hope your sessions will continue even now that his life drawings have improved; truth to be told, you'll happily spend the evenings of the rest of your life posing for Zoro... unless, of course, one of the two decides, or in your case finds the courage, to ask the other out.

"I think you changed position."

"Yeah, sorry." you admit as you lower your gaze once more.

"No, it's your arm."

"My arm?" you repeat, perplexed, since you hadn't noticed you had moved it "Are you sure?"

"Yes, you moved it when you used your hand to turn the page. Wait..."

Zoro stands, crossing the living room floor in a quick stride until he's keeling in front of the sofa; not looking at you (accurately not looking at you) he lifts your wrist with his fingers and moves your arm a few inches to the left. It's a completely innocent gesture, but you choose that very moment to unthinkingly move on the cushion, searching for a more comfortable position... and inadvertently pressing your chest against Zoro's hand.

His fingers are warm against the skin of your breast, the sensation clear, almost painfully so, despite the contact lasting less than a second. You gasp, more out of surprise than alarm, but that is nothing compared to Zoro's reaction: he jumps, retracting his hand as if he had burned himself, and his face has burst into flames as well, his usually tan complexion turning a bright red.

"Oh my God...!!"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Zoro almost shouts; he moves back so quickly he almost trips on his own feet "I didn't do it on purpose, I swear..."

"It's ok; I'm sorry, it was my fault, I moved... in the least appropriate moment." you admit, feeling yourself blush as well; you have never felt so embarrassed, and so naked, in your life, not even during your first session with Shanks' class "Zoro, forgive me, I made you... uncomfortable..."

He sighs, unable to look you in the eyes, his face still bright red as he covers it with his hand, standing five paces from you. "No, the fault is mine. Shanks always says an artist should never approach a model without asking for permission, let alone touch them... especially if they are naked."

He lowers his hand, gazing at it as if he could read his future in the lines of the palm; that is the hand he touched you with.

"I shouldn't have asked you to pose nude; I'm sorry."

"I'm perfectly used to it, as you very well know." you insist, desperately trying to ease the tension.

"Yes, at the school; I thought... it would be different now that you're here..."

Silence falls on the room, and between the two of you, for the first time since you met an uncomfortable, somewhat charged silence that you don't quite know how to interpret... as if you were standing over the edge of a precipice.

"I thought... you wanted to practice drawing clothed people, because it was easier..."

"I did." Zoro admits, as he retreats to his chair; he picks up the scabbard of the Wado Ichimonji, his fingers idly fiddling with the strap "At first. To be honest, I have felt ready to shift to nude drawing for a while, but I didn't want..."

"You didn't want...?"

"Oh, hell!" Zoro exclaims, finally turning to look at you; he seems angry, even though not necessarily at you "I didn't want you to think I wanted to look at you naked! I know you trust me because I'm Luffy's friend, and that posing naked is the rule, but I was afraid you would think that I had... designs on you and would take advantage of our drawing sessions to... to..."

He stops mid-sentence, but he doesn't need to continue; he has said enough, more than enough, to make your heart skip a beat - or four.

"... listen, let's just forget it, all right? You can get dresses, I can start over..."

"And you do?"

"... sorry?"

"You have designs on me?" you quietly ask as you slowly change position once more, sit on the sofa and then stand, only partially using your arm to cover your chest "Not that you would take advantage of me, or try to hurt me in any way; I know you are not that sort of man. But... did you ever consider having me naked in your house, while we are alone, could change things between us?"

"I... I..."

"That something might... develop?"

Zoro's face is still burning; he is stuttering, something almost unimaginable for a usually collected, self-assured man, but it is sweet seeing him like this... and you would lie if you said discovering you can have this effect on him is not exciting.

"I would not blame you for it; the heart has rules of its own, like my mother always says, and it's not like I'm the woman of your best friend or your step-sister. Also, I must confess... I would be flattered. And very happy."

A few more moments of silence follow, as you let Zoro fully grasp the meaning of your words, and he seemingly gives you time to recant them or elaborate with limits and conditions - something you have no intention of doing. You have known Zoro for six months; too little to speak of love, perhaps, or to make plans for the future, but more than enough to know that you like and care for him, sincerely and well beyond his undeniable physical beauty. You want to be more than a model for him... and you want him to do more than simply look at you, studing the shape of your hipbone or the position of your elbow.

Much more.

You are so engrossed in each other neither hears the sound of the house door opening. Zoro turns towards you, delicately placing his sword back against his chair's armrest; he is in full control of himself once more, not smiling and still five paces away, but the intensity of his gaze, the barely controlled desire in his brown eyes, makes you feel as if you could already feel his hands (warm, elegant, used to both wield a sword and hold a pencil, capable of being both gentle and strong) brushing against your skin, caressing it, worshipping...

"Are you sure?" he asks in the end, taking a single step towards you "Because I'd really like to..."

"Zoro, are you home?"

The voice coming from the corridor outside the living room is masculine, refined and more mature than that of the young man in front of you; it expressed a simple question, the tone relaxed and devoid of tension, but both of you react as if a known criminal had just threatened to make the house blow up.

"My father." Zoro whispers, suddenly panicking; he looks back at the chair on which his sketchbook and pencils are still placed, close enough to the door anyone coming into the room would see them for sure. And if that someone is Zoro's father, the man who has no idea he is still attending the art school, years after demanding he withdraw, you don't even want to know what could happen... "Oh, God... cover yourself, quick!"

Zoro quickly grabs his night-gown, that he had left on the back of the sofa, and passes it to you; you take it, look at him, need just half a second to assess your priorities, and throw the night-gown on his chair, where it neatly falls covering his drawing tools.

"What...?"

A moment later the door opens. "Zoro, are you here? I just need... oh."

Until today you had only seen Zoro's father in pictures, like the one of the two of them at the fencing school hanging from the living room's wall, and you doubt Zoro had even told him about you, even just as a friend, at least until his father had noticed a trace of your lipstick on a coffee cup; therefore, this is your first meeting and God, you couldn't imagine a worst possible situation... nor, it must be acknowledged, a more memorable one.

Dracule Mihawk is a tall, very attractive man in his forties, with dark hair, a neatly trimmed bear, and beautiful bird-like eyes that earned him the sobriquet he is mostly known under. Zoro, who deeply respects him even though he still sees the older man more like a mentor and a future adversary than a father, told you he is gifted with an almost preternatural self-control, never letting himself be carried away by his emotions and very rarely reacting with joy, surprise or sadness when something unexpected happens.

You should perhaps be proud of yourself, then, since your presence in his house, and especially your state of undress, leaves the strongest swordsman in the world completely speechless.

"Zoro... what is happening?" he asks in the end, turning to look at his son "Who is this girl? Why is she... oh." he adds after a moment, averting his eyes "I see I'm interrupting."

Zoro quickly steps in front of you, who are staring at your feet as you desperately try to cover your most intimate parts with your hands. "She... she is my friend (name)."

"I see. I'll leave the you alone, I just needed to take some papers. I... apologize for disturbing you."

He nods at Zoro and then at you (who force yourself to reciprocate, fully aware that you must be red as a beetroot), turns, not noticing or perhaps not pay attention to the night-gown on the chair, and leaves, closing the door behind him.

For a whole minute both you and Zoro remain still as statues - or as models posing. "Do you think he suspected something?" you finally ask in a whisper, fearing your quick thinking was not enough to keep Mihawk in the dark. On the other hand, findinga naked girl in his home is technically not something the tutor of a young man should feel suspicious about...

"I... don't think so." Zoro answers slowly as he turns towards you; he is close enough you can feel the warmth of his body on yours, so close you could kiss him without having to move... "You... covered my drawing things instead of yourself."

"I did. Believe me, that was the most embarrassing moment of my life, but... I know how important it is for you to keep attending the art school, and that you don't want to disappoint your father, so I thought..."

Zoro grins as he takes your head in his hands; the purest affection shines in his brown eyes. He kisses you on the forehead and "I just want to make sure everything's all right." he quickly explains "He wouldn't take it out on you, he's not that sort of man, just... give me a minute, ok?"

"Of course. Can I take your night-gown if I hide...?"

"No."

You smile. "All right." you answer, and Zoro winks at you before following Mihawk out of the room. A couple of minutes, and pressing your ear against the door allows you to listen to the conversation between father and son.

"If you wanted to have the house to yourself for an evening you could have told me, Zoro. You're an adult, I would have had nothing against it."

"I know, just... I didn't really expect it to happen. And you're usually not at home at this hour."

"As I said, I had forgotten a few documents I had to look over with my new client. She's the girl you told me about, the one of the lipstick? Is she your girlfriend or...?"

A few moments pass before Zoro's answer; suddenly, you wonder whether he suspects you are listening. "Not yet; but I was planning on asking her tonight."

"Good. I don't mind if she stays the night, but if she doesn't, make sure your friend gets home safely."

Zoro promises he will. A minute later, the house door opens and closes, and soon after, Zoro returns to you, looking relieved but somewhat gloomy.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, just..." Zoro smiles as he takes you in, still completely naked, clearly appreciating the view way beyond simply as a good subject for a portrait, but a moment later he sighs "I... don't like lying to him. I know he never wanted children, but he took good care of me for years; he deserves better."

"You're old enough to decide how to live your life, Zoro. I know your father is a swordsman, and I don't doubt he only wants what's best for you, but what's so wrong with liking to draw?"

Zoro tells you that for people like him and Mihawk, the sword is much more than a hobby or an interest, no matter how passionately one practices it - it is a call, a way of life, a purpose one has to focus all their energies and willpower on, and that leaves no space for anything else. "Truth to be told, the sword is my real passion; as much as I like drawing, that's what I have decided to dedicate my life to, the thing I would choose if I had to pick one. It's just..."

"Just...?"

"My parents could draw. They were illustrators, for books and advertising and other things; they taught me, and then since I liked it, they sent me to the school. I know I'm not as good an artist as I am a swordsman, probably not good enough to earn my living with that, but I do like it, and... and drawing makes me feel close to them. You know, as if they were still with me."

Zoro looks at you, vaguely apologetic as if he felt guilty for ruining the intimate moment you were about to share with his sad musings. You don't mind; if anything, you have discovered a new part of him, the insecure, uncertain heart of a young man torn between his dreams and obligations, between the devotion to his birth parents and the loyalty to the man who has taken care of him. A part of him Zoro probably does his best to keep hidden, because he is that sort of man, but that you have discovered, and you can't help loving it.

"What are you smiling about?" Zoro wonders as he rests his hands on your naked hips, his touch relatively chaste but possessive enough to make you shiver pleasantly.

"I was just thinking how happy I am Luffy convinced me to come pose at the school." you muse "I found a new job I really enjoy, some great new friends, and..."

"... and you met me? Is this what you were going to say?"

"Hmm, perhaps..."

You laugh; Zoro laughs with you. "I'd really like to kiss you now." he murmurs in the end; in the well-lit room, you can see he has blushed, just a little "If that's all right for you, that is."

"Of course it is."

Zoro's lips are hot against yours. You waste no time before kissing him back, messy and awkward at first, but soon your mouths learn to know each other, they find a rhythm to follow and pursue together, a wild, unrestrained dance that you feel already addicted to a minute later, and soon your tongue finds Zoro's in his mouth, and his moan of pleasure reverberates through your body.

"(name)... fuck..."

His hands are still grasping at your hips, his whole body tense; he's still restraining himself, not wanting to take more than you are willing to give, but the time for qualms is over, and you want Zoro to know that while this is not how you expected your relationship to begin, you don't regret it, far from it, and you have never desired anything and anyone like him, and his hands on your skin.

"Touch me, Zoro." you whisper, your lips still pressed against his "Please, I need you to touch me..."

He moans again, fierce and avid and hungry, as he takes your face in his hands and then lets an arm snake around your waist, pressing your body flush against his; Zoro is still clothed, but you can feel the effect your nudity has had on him through the fabric of his jeans. You roll your hips against his erection, just as his free hand descends to squeeze your ass, and you both whimper.

"Let's go to my room." he proposes in a whisper, and you eagerly nod. Zoro quickly retrieves his swords, while you hold his sketchbook and pencils against your chest, then offers you his free hand, and you let him guide you towards the corridor.

"In here."

The room is large but sparsely furnished, which you expected; the bed is the sort with the mattress, covered by a duvet, directly placed on the floor. "Nice." you comment as Zoro, whose hands are shaking slightly, retrieves the suitcase, to hide his drawing tools, from the closet. He turns, and grins - no, he smiles at you.

"I changed the bedding this morning."

"Which has nothing to do with the fact you wanted to ask me to pose naked, I'm sure..."

He doesn't deny it, but he laughs - an unexpected, happy sound that fills your heart with tenderness, and the desire to hear it again. Zoro places his swords next to the bed, to be grabbed at a moment's notice; you want to ask him whether he expects an assault during the night, but a moment later Zoro has started undressing, and it would be physically impossible for you to focus on anything else.

As you expected, he has the body of an athlete, without an ounce of fat, well-muscled shoulders and arms, a flat stomach... and a large scar marring his chest, clearly old but still evident enough to make you pause.

"Oh, God... who did this to you?" you murmur, your fingers brushing against the edge of the wound as you try to imagine how painful it must have been "Was it... during a competition...?"

"Not exactly. It was my father."

"What?! Zoro, he could have killed you!" you cry, appalled; he doesn't deny it, but looks distinctly blasé about it, as he explains he had officially challenged Mihawk, foolishly thinking he had even just a single chance of winning, and his teacher had to show him how tremendously wrong he had been.

"That seems... cruel... I mean, towards any students, and especially his own son..."

Zoro shrugs, as if he really didn't care, or perhaps challenges and duels between swordsmen followed rules you cannot understand. "I'm not saying it was pleasant; but it taught me a lot, and from that day, I have promised myself I would never be defeated again."

"Well, if you're happy..."

Zoro takes your hands in his. For a moment all you can do is look at each other, and while you are the one who had never seen the other naked before, you can see awe, and desire, in the brown eyes of the man who has seen you unclothed a hundred times already. He kisses you once more before accompanying you down on the bed, and from there your hands start moving, hungrily searching, caressing, stimulating, and a sensual symphony of moans fills the air. His lips close around your nipple, and you instantly forget how to breathe; your heart is pounding, a fire burning down in your belly, and you have no words to describe how much you want him, which means that you'll have to show him...

Zoro's erection is beautiful, heavy and proudly erect, soft green hair descending from his navel in a thin strip and surrounding the base; you look at him in the eyes as you play with it, your hand moving up and down around the thick column. Zoro sighs, a lazy and happy smile on his lips, as he bucks his hips. "Oh, God, (name)..."

"You like this?"

"I love this... oh, this is even better than I had imagined..."

He has to ask you to stop after a few minutes, and takes your hand in his. "I don't have anything to put on." he confesses, which startles you a bit.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, I... never really needed them." he admits, as he rubs the back of his head, like you have already seen him do when embarrassed "I can... go buy some; there's a pharmacy across the street."

You reflect on it for a moment. "No; if you don't mind, I'd like you to stay." you answer in the end as you turn on one side, scooting even closer to him "We can... cuddle, that'd be nice as well."

Your idea is approved. In the next two hours you do much more than simply cuddle, exploring each other's body and exchanging your pleasure; you talk a lot, play, joke, and simply enjoy that intimacy and closeness you both want to experience together. Part of you is deeply disappointed you didn't get to have sex with Zoro, especially given you are almost embarrassingly wet and the touch of his hands is addictive, especially when you see his fingers disappear between your legs, but the evening is lovely all the same, your body and Zoro's locked in an embrace. You didn't revise for your imminent exam like you had planned, but given what you have spent the last two hours doing, you feel physically unable to care.

"I really like you, you know." he whispers in the end; he has found a pizza in the kitchen's freezer and now you're eating together on the bed, still naked like the day you were born, and it may be the company, but you feel as if you had never had a better meal. After all, you did tell him he could buy you a pizza as payment for your posing sessions... "Not just because I think you are beautiful."

There is a spot of tomato sauce on his lip; you smile as you clean it with your thumb. "You do?"

"Of course. And I think you're kind, and generous, and you care about your friends, and... what I'm trying to say..." he sighs, and then mumbles something unintelligible, but you don't mind, because you are confident you know already what he wants, because you heard him talk about it with his father, and you want it as well.

"I'd like that." you answer as you place the empty pizza plate on the floor next to the table and then lay next to him once more; it's not exactly the grand declaration of love you had hoped to receive sooner or later, but it is very Zoro, and because of this it is perfect "I'd like that very much."

"Are you sure?"

"Zoro, I don't know what else I could do to show you I like you as well. Now, I can't stay the night because I have class early tomorrow. What about we cuddle some more before I have to go back?"

Zoro happily takes you in his arms, smiling as you rest your cheek against his shoulder. "You know, a lot of artists are jealous of their models." he mentions, his fingers delicately playing with your hair "So I hope you won't let anyone else draw you, at least like this... and that you'll pose for me again."

"You don't have to worry." you whisper back as you turn in his arms; his hips press against yours, making you shiver pleasantly "I'll be your model, and only yours, as long as you want me to."

[mins-fins]

two slow dancers.

&&. watching you paint has become a state of relaxation for renjun, you realize how much more vocal he is about his love for you than you thought.

pairing: huang renjun x m!reader

genre: fluffy like clouds, gay preple 😢

warnings: none!

word count: 0.8k

notes: renjun 🙁…….renjun 😖……..renjun 😢….. my wife i love him sm 💔 um anyway so last night i had a DREAM about renjun and i realized how good of a plot it ended up being despite how jumbled up it was 😞 i remember all of the good parts and that's what matters! um anyways take this writing from the corners of my mind

this was published so xiao dejun doesn't murder user @junjiie 😊

"shouldn't they be flying then?"

"well they don't actually have to flying, the wings are there for symbolism".

renjun eyes somehow un-blur themselves, and he stares for a long time trying to figure out what you mean by symbolism. now— renjun's not an idiot (he's actually very smart if he does say so himself!), it usually takes him a good few minutes to get what your talking about when your referring to symbolism, but in five minutes he ends up getting it.

he enjoys watching you paint, just watching the whole process intrigues him. before this, before you, renjun wasn't necessarily a fan of art museums, but ever since you've come into his life, with your stupid puns and your paintings full of symbolism, your shared apartment has pretty much become an art museum in itself.

the creativity you harbor shows no bounds, you paint practically everything of interest to you, thoughts you had at three in the morning with a long lecture ahead of you in a few hours, things you'd seen outside that were just too out of this world to not remember, or your reminiscing about moments in your life that will only happen once.

renjun thinks your mind must be the most interesting place in the world, your just thinking all the time, brainstorming. even when you aren't physically painting, your drawing up ideas in your head of what to put on your canvas.

and somehow, all of them just connect to you, all your paintings just contain something special that scream you, renjun can't fathom how you do it.

sometimes he describes it as a "superpower" you have, and you always manage to laugh at the wording of his sentence when he says so.

renjun just has this way of describing things, you have to give him credit on how incredible he is.

"the wings aren't meant to be taken literally.." you mutter, finishing up the final touches for your painting, somehow, you seem to still be full of energy, despite the fact that you've currently been up for a good 17 hours (renjun counted for you), and haven't touched your bed once today since you crawled out of it first thing in the morning. "they represent purity, innocence, it's truly associated with white birds so—"

you pause in the middle of your sentence, worried that your boring your boyfriend, but when you glance over at renjun, his full attention is on you, he's completely focused on what your talking about. "and? continue!"

his interest surprises you, most people you know roll their eyes when you begin explaining the meanings of your paintings. you don't mean to annoy anyone, so you've become accustomed to giving short and easy answers when people ask about the meanings behind your paintings, you often feel like your doing too much if you give such a long and thorough explanation.

renjun doesn't care though, everything you say is of importance to him. he isn't looking around the room, he isn't zoning out, he isn't focusing on a random part of the couch and zooming in on it, his attention is all on you.

he cares about what your saying.

you snap out of your mind, though glad about the whole revelation you just made, you forgot you were in the middle of a sentence. "that's why i chose them, this painting is meant to represent childhood innocence, and white birds, innocence".

you almost feel like you sound stupid in a way, but as renjun glances back at the painting, the one he'd sat and watched as you created with your own two hands for the past two and a half hours, he smiles, his eyes light up.

admiration is the obvious answer, you know the look because you can't count how many times you stared at renjun with the same exact stare. he laughs at a thought he has, and then turns to you, completely unaware of how you were looking at him so lovingly. "it's beautiful, i love it" he tells you, staring at you the same way he admired the painting beforehand.

you can't stop the way your face heats up, and your sure renjun can tell how red you are. if he can he doesn't say anything about it, just smiles at you, and you swear your face is practically burning at this point, it's a little funny to you that your getting so flustered over words your literal boyfriend is saying, you assumed after the two of you started dating you'd be less like this.

but no, renjun just has this power over you, you'll always be flustered by his compliments no matter how much you try to resist his crazy charm.

somehow, after minutes of getting flustered over a compliment and pretty chinese man's smile, you find your voice. "thank you".

renjun snickers, noticing the flush on your cheeks.

"your so cute".

"i don't think you should be talking".

renjun smiles.

he loves you, loves you so much.