#maybe my half-finished writing degree is paying off for something

[lineffability]

style, flair, and a head of red hair – she’s the nanny?!

oneshot. 5k. human au. the story of how crowley becomes a nanny. no, not that one. the other one. the fine type. this fic was inspired by @densewentz and this stunning piece of The Nanny/Crowley art that blew my socks clean off. i had to write it.

She is entirely perfect and utterly boring.

Aziraphale Edenson, ever the picture of perfect pleasantry, has recited three consecutive poems in his mind while she's been speaking, and he could almost swear one of them had been the entirety of Ginsburg's Howl. He can't be certain, as he's drifted. In front of him, the Mary Poppins palimpsest is finishing her impassioned speech that had begun somewhere in her childhood only to end, in a satisfying narrative conclusion, he is sure, in the childhood of Warlock, his unexpected teenage protegé, and somehow between those two childhoods she had also wedged in his, Aziraphale's, childhood too, though he isn't sure quite how that is possible. It seems she has done her research rather thoroughly. 

It is not polite to interrupt people, so Aziraphale does not. He smiles, he nods at the right moments, and he offers more tea, and then he ushers her to the front door with perfect manners only to say, in one last moment of mental impasse, "Well, thank you so very much, Mrs Poppins, I will be sure to contact you by the end of the week. It has been so very lovely to meet you."

It only occurs to him half an hour later why her smile had faltered, and he smacks his hand to his forehead, producing a noise that sounds very much like oh, bugger. 

A string of interviews follow this initial one, and after a fortnight, Aziraphale gives up. It’s not that the applicants are unsuited: rather the opposite, their credentials battle each other for excellence: if one has twenty years of experience in royal nanny service, the next will present a doctoral degree in Nannyology straight from Harvard. After all, Villa Eden is not only a beautiful and prestigious estate in the nicest part of London, but he offers a pay check that the best paid nanny in the world might have envied, promptly losing her her title. An honest wage for honest work, he thinks, and he certainly does not know what to do with a twelve year old boy. So if someone does, money shall not be the issue. 

The thing is: hiring a nanny is… it’s like selling books. Aziraphale is selfish. Aziraphale does not want to hire a nanny. He does not want to share his space, his routines, his library, his home. He can do it for Warlock, for a few months, because it is the right thing to do. He does not love it. But he likes the kid enough. Especially because his parents… well, they don’t. Not properly, not like they should, and that is enough for Aziraphale to feel a bristling sense of injustice, and a burning desire to bestow the boy with a love that might not live up to the parental ideal, but make him feel safe and liked and cared for, at least. 

So maybe he has to hire the Mary Poppins nanny, after all, to help him realize his wish, to support him in his quest, to breach the friendly but unbreachable rift between the old, reclusive neighbor and the bright, young boy that has been parked here by his parents, like a pet, while they are away for travel for half a year. Aziraphale huffs. 

He stares out the window of his conservatory, but can’t make out the expanse of his glorious estate. That’s because it is cloudy and gray and rainy and grim, and also winter, which might have something to do with it. Darkness has settled over the hill and his mansion like a heavy blanket. His clock chimed five not a minute ago, and yet it is already pitch-dark. Aziraphale likes winter. It grants you more alone time that needs not be justified as much as during other seasons. The weather today suits his mood. With a grim face, he makes up his mind to hire the nanny. 

In a dramatic last minute coincidence not at all necessitated by the narrative, the doorbell rings precisely in the moment Aziraphale starts to dial the number on the resumé.  

Aziraphale puts the receiver back down. He walks to the main entrance. 

(He does not believe in servants: for the same reason that he does not believe in nannies.)

When he opens the door, it takes him a moment to make sense of the picture of personified misery he is presented with. 

“Cosmetics,” the picture of misery says. 

“Excuse me?”

[continue reading]

[hibernationsuit-remade]

🖊️🖊️🖊️

YEAAAA 🫡

send me an "🖊️" for me to talk about my ocs

OKAY SO TEEHEE. doing three topics since u sent three pens :3c

Klara looooooves picnics or brunches, especially if it's with her close friends. Most of them use a digital calendar that can be shared w others (one where u can write where you probably are at that point, and events stay private and only visible to you, but it will show the others that you aren't free at that moment), and tries to plan a brunch/picnic meetup at least once in two months hehe <3 She also loved to take charge of all the food prep and shopping for different events they hosted in their sustainability student organization thing. Klara's also often taking care of the food side of events at her work, too. Her "must haves" at events like these r fruits and vegetables (she's a fan of apples, oranges and grapes but also loves to have cucumbers, bell peppers, tomatoes. also allows others to bring their own), different kinds of bread, some candy, crackers and hummus. If it's a work event, she'll also add some kind of fancy cake thing. If it's a friend event she'll also have cereal, cinnamon rolls or french toast and pierogi. I think being good at brunches kinda creates balance w the fact that she can't cook very well skfkkfkfkxkxkfkfkkfk

Toby sucks at hugging anyone who's not Klara bc he allows someone to hug him v rarely (for example, after not seeing his friends for a very long time or if someone's feeling sad) and it just looks somewhat clumsy? Like he doesn't notice the person's position on time so he enfs up on the "wrong side", doesn't really ever squeeze during a hug & honestly looks a bit uncomfortable. But he does enjoy them a lot!!

Continuing with these both bc they're in my head most of the time NFNNFBXKFXKXK I think it's funny how back when they met, Tobias basically was invited by their mutual friend Leon to come help out with this one event thing and maybe stay as an admin in that student organization/club bc he seems to have skills for that. So Leon basically takes Toby to their meeting where they're talking about things, and then Klara comes a bit late bc of her work, sees Toby and goes "who tf is this", which is funny bc she Did know who it is, clearly meaning to ask what he's doing here. How did she know him already? There was this one skincare startup she loved very much bc their products were sensitive skin friendly and didn't have any strong scents. (A bit miserable and "doing this bc i'm a people pleaser") co-founder of that start up? Toby. Back when he was finishing his bachelors (when he was 17) he and his friends were attending this specific skincare chemistry workshop course and got an idea for different products. Fast forward four and a half years later, his friends r inviting him to join their start up idea centering around these products. He had a quite miserable time there let's be honest and left after 6 months, paying off his university debt and donating tons of money to charity, and also saving for the master's degree he was going to finally get. Klara didn't mention this to anyone though, and two days later when she accidentally met him in a cafe she's like "Hey were you that..." and at that moment Toby basically freezes and goes "yes i am that figure skater no i don't want to talk about it, to which Klara's like "The What. No I meant a co founder of that skincare thing," which made Toby relax a bit and he says "oh yeah that's me, you're like the first one who noticed. how cool". They didn't really talk that much for the first weeks of knowing each other tho, until Klara got this one job task and after asking Leon to help with this one thing he's like, "well idk about this but i heard that's toby's speciality" so she kinda had to go and ask him for help. And then something happens and now they're both helping each other out. yay. i need to plan out that part more teehee.

[sailforvalinor]

The idea of liminal space is an extremely important concept in Twilight Princess. If you aren't already aware, a liminal space is a transitional space, such as a place between two extremes, or a place that serves to connect two places--think of stairwells, hallways, waiting rooms, vehicles, parking lots, or airports. These are spaces that, while meant to be used, are not meant to be occupied for long. You don't hang out in a waiting room for the sake of it; you wait in a waiting room in order to transition to the doctor's office. It is because of this that many of us perceive liminal spaces to be eerie or unsettling--we are occupying a space that feels in-limbo, somewhere outside the pace of everyday life.

Writers and filmmakers of horror have been using this to their advantage for hundreds of years, utilizing liminal spaces as settings to build up dread for both the characters and the viewer without ever needing to explain why. Begin looking for liminal spaces in horror and you'll see them everywhere--i.e., the entire concept of the Korean zombie film Train to Busan, which is set almost entirely on a single train. Liminal spaces do not have to be physical spaces, however, but can also be metaphorical spaces--look no further than The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, where one man's body is the space occupied by the two extremes of the morally upright Jekyll and the deplorable Hyde (granted, this is a little bit of a simplistic reading of the character--but the concept is still in-play).

Twilight Princess, while not a "horror game," per-se, dips into the tropes that define the genre--including liminal space. Twilight--the place of transition between day and night--is itself a liminal space. Making this concept into an intrusive, almost parasitic force than encroaches itself onto the everyday world is deeply unsettling to us as the player. It is forcing liminality onto places that are not meant to be liminal, creating places of transition that transition to nowhere. Places in the game that have been overtaken by Twilight are empty, strangled into silence that feels like it should be building up to something, but never does. Perhaps it is because of this liminality that all people caught in Twilight are turned into spirits--they are unable to continue with their lives, stuck in the moment when Twilight took over, but unable to ascend to an afterlife. Whenever Link enters this liminal space, he is forced into a form that is not his, in which his normal capabilities are limited. It is only when he leaves the liminal space that he is himself again.

However, despite all this, nearly everyone who has played the game agrees that, despite all of this, there is a certain beauty about Twilight. It is fascinating in its eeriness--just like liminal spaces. Have you ever met anyone who loves airports (of which I am one)? It's that same sort of appeal. There's a strange dichotomy between how unsettling and how fascinating it is to occupy these spaces that escape definition.

And here, inevitably, we come to the tragedy of Midna.

Because, she, of course, is a being of Twilight. As one of the Twili, the princess of the Twili, she is defined by liminality. She comes to Hyrule as an outsider, almost something alien, something that does not belong--she is liminal. And she knows it. While her vendetta against Zant and her desire to eliminate his influence is highly personal, there is no doubt that, by the end of the game, she recognizes that Twilight is a corruptive force to the land of Hyrule. But she also realizes in the end how much she cares about Link--while they began their adventure barely tolerating one another, they ended it with mutual trust, and it's not too much of a stretch to say mutual attraction. However, despite all of this, Midna knows the nature of her existence. The two of them aren't meant to occupy the same space for long. Perhaps this is why, in the end, despite the tragedy of it all, she shattered the mirror behind her.

Because Midna was liminal. Link was not.

[krabjoons]

omg professor... what are you doing?!?!?! [pjm]

⮕ summary: park jimin is the hottest, most popular guy at school. the only catch? he also just so happens to be your teacher.

⮕ pairing: park jimin x reader, mentions of jaebum x reader

⮕ genre: smut, university!au, pwp

⮕ word count: 12.8k

⮕ rating: 18+, nsfw

⮕ warnings: hard dom!jimin x bratty-ish sub!y/n, professor!jimin x university student! y/n (he’s 27-28 ish and she’s 21-22), fuckboy!jaebum, pussy eating, fingering, thigh riding, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk (carries the whole fic tbh), degradation, edging, dumbification, impact play (pussy + ass spanking), manhandling, humiliation, exhibitionism, creampie, teasing, praise, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, crying, kissing/making out, jimin’s a meanie but y/n likes it (aka i go ham on the degradation and edging you have been warned), aftercare (like 500 words of it :P)

⮕ a/n: this took too long to come out and has literally been sitting in my drafts since august but here it is! writing this was definitely a rollercoaster because this was my first smut and honestly i felt like it was really bad at times but other times i was like wtf this is so hot,, ANYWAYS, i’m glad that i’m posting it and getting over that fear of imperfection. i hope that you guys enjoy this piece :). i would also like to add that please don’t hook up with your teachers… if you do, that’s on you i take no responsibility for that whatsoever lol. excuse the title i literally have no idea what to change it to but i like it the way it is tbh LMFAOOO OK I’LL STOP RAMBLING NOW BYEEE ILY ALL

University has never been when you’ve expected. When you first graduated high school and came here, you expected your late teenage years to be filled with just as much studying as high school combined with only a few parties here and there. You didn’t expect to make as many friends as you did and certainly did not expect to be known as the girl with the high grades and even higher alcohol tolerance. No longer are you the shy Y/N L/N that walked through the entrance gates on the first day of school; you’ve changed a lot.

It was a surprise to you. With academics taking precedence much of your life, the freedom university provided you with was welcomed - perhaps a little too much. You quickly learned that polar bear shots were great to keep you in a good mood at parties and that eating mangoes before smoking gave you a better high. And, you also learned about sex.

Admittedly, the first time you had a hookup, it was awkward and messy (at least for you… it was a guy, what else were you expecting?) but with more practice, you were able to get the hang of it. You’ve found your tastes and now willingly talk about who catches your eye to your best friends, something you never thought you’d do last year. 

Speaking of who catches your eye, as of now it’s Park Jimin. A really hot guy, according to your friends, and according to you, an even better voice. When you first walked into your Applications of Economics class, you nearly spit out your Starbucks drink after you saw the astonishingly handsome man with silky black hair in a dress shirt and tie. Surprisingly formal for a university student, you thought, but you weren’t one to talk, considering your current outfit of business casual.

Only, he wasn’t a student. He was your teacher. You should’ve put the pieces together earlier but you didn’t. Let's just say a Coconut Lime Refresher is good for hangovers, and you needed one desperately (basically, you were drunk as hell the night before and were still in the process of recovering). It certainly didn’t take long before all of campus was talking about the new economics professor who was hotter than hell. Girls (and some guys) immediately tried transferring into his class, one of them being your best friend Lisa, just to get a glimpse of how attractive he was. You remember a couple of girls offering you literal cash to transfer out, but you didn’t.

A good call, thinking about it now. You’ve gotten closer with Mr. Park, although it’s nothing too special yet, the two of you are on good terms and have even hugged before (you still get giddy thinking about it). Y/N from 2 years ago would be screaming her head off at how bold you’ve gotten, but now, you can’t bring yourself to care. Park Jimin is a hot guy, and you’re pretty hot too (if you must admit), so it would only be logical if the two of you could hook up. Unsurprisingly, you’ve lost your shame, nothing but thoughts of your teacher filling your mind in your spare time. 

So here you are, another day of university, as monotonous as ever. The only highlight of your day will be the morning, where you have a class with Mr. Park. You've started changing your style a bit recently, opting for more, let’s just leave it at provocative outfits. Walking into the room, you take your usual seat in the front, closest to Mr. Park’s desk. 

The class progresses like it normally does, starting with a review of the work from the last class and a discussion about the new material. "I’m going to give you guys this last half hour of class to review the material individually if you want or you can leave early, I don’t mind. I know it's a Friday so there’s gonna be some parties around campus, if you want to prepare yourselves for that then go ahead." Your professor glances around the room, smirking at you when mentioning the parties. You flush and look away, biting your lower lip. 

You make the decision to stay in the classroom while the majority of the other students file out of the room. "I'll be available for any questions," Jimin calls out, returning to his desk across from you.

Sticking to your reputation, you get a head start on the assignment and easily work through the homework. Surprisingly, you forget about Jimin for the time being, focused on finishing your assignment so that you have as little work as possible to do after classes. You don’t notice your teacher looking at you, admiring the way you put so much effort into the things you’re passionate about. Hearing a student call his name, he gets up to help him. 

Surprisingly, Mr. Park has assigned a disturbingly low amount of homework, probably because of the upcoming weekend and maybe a pop quiz later next week (ugh). You’ve finished your work in a mere twenty minutes and are surprised to find that Jimin is not at his desk when you look up from your laptop. You turn around, looking for him, and see that he’s helping another student. Whipping out your phone, you text your best friend Lisa (who just so conveniently, also thirsts over Jimin the same way you do).

to lisa: hey i finished classwork for mr park and have like 10 minutes of free time now lol

Instantly, she responds as if she wasn’t in class. Then again, she has never been one to pay too much attention to her professors. 

from lisa: ayo talk to him 

from lisa: also save me from bio i literally cannot

Smiling slightly, you respond to her.

to lisa: i WOULD but he’s helping other students

from lisa: then be like "m- mister park, i- need help please" and use puppy eyes 

to lisa: LMFAOO PLEASE he’d be like whats wrong with you since when did you struggle in this class

to lisa: but i mean, anything to hear him talk i guess 

from lisa: god i'm so jealous you have him early so you can hear his morning voice it must be hot asf

to lisa: it is omg

from lisa: god what if he moans like that it'd be such a turn on

to lisa: dUDE STOP NO the way this is literally true like if he has a good sip of coffee or a pastry he likes hes gonna go all "mmmm I wish you could try this" pls its so fking hot

to lisa: like SIR I WANNA TRY YOU or you to try me no complaints

from lisa: wtf he finishes his breakfast before my class so i can't even hear it tf I hate it here

to lisa: u have him right after my block bro at leAST you have him 

to lisa: what ab the people who don't even have him

from lisa: idk what i'd do honestly. imagine not having a literal sex god teaching you every day i pity those who dont

You’re about to type out a response when a smooth voice sounds out from behind you, "alright guys, you’re good to go. Have a good weekend!" You jump in your seat, not realizing that your teacher was helping the student right behind you for the past five minutes. 

As the rest of the class begins to pack up, you pray that he hasn’t seen you talking about your sexual fantasies less than five feet away from him. Mr. Park doesn’t say anything, so you must be in the clear, right? You’re hoping and praying that he didn’t find out, but your heart rate is already rising and you’re getting a sick feeling in your stomach. Your gut must be trying to tell you something.

Well, your gut’s telling you that the universe must not be on your side because as soon as you stand up, he says, "Ms. L/N, can you stay a bit after class? I have a few things I want to discuss with you." Cheeks flushing hot, you squeak out a "yes, sir."

When everyone has left and it’s just the two of you left in the room, Jimin pulls up a seat next to his desk. "Sit," he commands, leaning on his desk. You scramble to your feet and walk over, mind buzzing with thoughts. Oh god, what if he tells the administration department? Then you’d definitely be punished and maybe even kicked out of the school. Maybe you could make up a story? Oh, it’s ANOTHER Park Jimin, haha. Definitely NOT my teacher. Even if you did, they could go the rest of the texts between you and Lisa and you’d be screwed. And not to be petty or anything, but being kicked out would mean that you wouldn’t be able to be in Jimin’s class anymore and wouldn’t be able to see him. Oh, and the bigger problem would be that you’d also be unable to get your degree.

You start internally panicking, heart rate picking up even when your teacher rolls up his sleeves and leans down in front of you. Stop thinking about dirty things FOR ONCE, Y/N, half of you screams, while the other half of you has already started fantasizing about things which shouldn’t be thought about, especially with one of the people in the fantasies less than a couple of feet in front of you. With his hands on his thighs, the ones you’ve thought about riding far too often, he smirks.

"So, I heard you wanna try me?"

You gulp, absolutely mortified that Jimin caught you. Yes, he was attractive, and you would do practically anything to fuck him, but you didn’t expect to be humiliated into admitting it. "Um, no sir! I mean, maybe, but not in the way you think!" you ramble. Shut up, Y/N, part of you screams. You’re only digging yourself into a deeper hole.

"Yeah, sure. Because I definitely didn’t see what you were talking about with your friend. Be honest, Y/N," he says, smirking down at you. "You think about me, don't you? I'm not new to this. I see the way girls like you look at me. I know the way they talk about me when they think I can't hear. I know the way you think. Who would've thought? Little Miss L/N, all prim and proper on the outside, would be so filthy deep down?"

"Sir, I- uh. I-" you stutter out, cheeks burning furiously hot.

"You what? You're not going to try to prove your innocence now, are you? Not when you've gotten this far, hm? Getting to do what you’ve wanted after all this time?" he asks, standing up from his desk, and walking over to you, kneeling in front of you so that you were forced to hold eye contact. 

"You know, nobody else has been as daring as you, my dear," he hums softly. "Sending promiscuous texts about their teacher in the very class they're in. Rubbing their thighs together every time their teacher catches their eye." You shift in your seat, Jimin's words sparking the slightest of fires in your core. "Gazing ever so obviously at said teacher’s dick, too. Y/N, you amaze me. So, so brilliant. yet so, so naughty. You thought that nobody else would catch onto you? Unfortunately, you thought wrong."

"I'm s- sorry sir," you whisper out.

"You're just sorry that you got caught, Y/N. You'll keep doing this even after today," Jimin chuckles lowly. "Possibly even more after today," he adds on, taking note of how his words have affected you. Your pupils are dilated and your cheeks are starting to get flushed. "Such a dirty girl. I'm here trying to scold you, and here you are, getting turned on by my words. Is this why you ask so many questions, doll? To hear my voice?"

You bite your lip in a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness, nodding imperceptibly. The logical, studious side of you is thinking, oh my god, is this really happening? Am I going to fuck my teacher? I really shouldn’t be doing this. The relaxed, easygoing side of you (pretty much your horny side) is thinking, finally, it’s happening. I’m going to FINALLY be fucking Park Jimin.

"What else have you imagined about my voice, hm? How I'd whisper into your ear while pounding into you? Hear me moan as your tight cunt clenches around my dick? Tell you how good you're making me feel? Reminding you how much of a slut you are to fuck your teacher in the middle of his classroom, where anyone could walk in?" he continues, seeing you shift in your seat more. "Would you like that?" he asks.

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I would," you whisper. You have to consciously clench your thighs together to keep them from spreading at his words.

"Hm, I don't believe you. Try again another time, darling," he sighs, leaning back on his knees, getting ready to stand up. You don't want this, whatever it is, to be over that quickly so you make up your mind. Swallowing your pride and succumbing to the dull throb in your panties, you pout.

"But professor, I really do want you. I want you to make me feel good and I wanna make you feel good. Please," you whine out. "I wanna be thinking about you all the time because you fucked me so well in class. And when my friends talk about wanting to get in your pants, I want to be the only one who already has. Please, Mr. Park. I need you." you breathe out. At this point, the pressure in your core is rising steadily, and only intensifies when you see the way your teacher's eyes are glazed over in lust and eyebrows are furrowed. Your eyes travel down the expanse of his face to his lips, plump and pink. Oh, the number of times you've wished to kiss them, imagined them suckling on your clit. And now that Jimin knows, perhaps it's finally coming true. 

"You'd like that, hm? God, you're so dirty," Jimin mutters, inching closer to you, cautiously placing a hand on your knee. Your legs instantly part to make room for him in between and he inches forward. "Does dirty talk really turn you on that much, Y/N? I can smell you through your panties," he remarks.

"Mr. Park, please do something," you whimper. And with that, Jimin pulls you over to his desk and sits you on the edge. You spread your legs and he stands in between them. He leans his head closer to you until he's next to your ear.

"Want me to get you off with my words? You seem to like that already and I haven't even tried, doll. Or perhaps," he pauses, bunching up your skirt so that it pools at your waist. "You want me to touch you?"

You nod eagerly, chest heaving in anticipation. "I want both Mr. Park. I want you," you purr salaciously. And with that, your teacher lets out a low growl and presses his lips onto yours harshly. It’s already bruising, but you just can’t get enough of the way he tastes of caramel and coffee and how ridiculously soft his lips are, so you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in even closer. He seems a little put off by how eager you are, but once he hears you sigh in enjoyment, he melts into your eager grasp. 

His hands start sliding down your waist so that they are resting on your upper thighs, and he rubs comforting circles into them, trailing them closer and closer to your panties. He breaks off from the kiss to look down and smirks back at you before joining his lips to yours with even more fervor and you praise yourself for deciding to wear your lace thong today. You feel his tongue slide against your lips, asking for permission to enter and your mouth immediately complies. 

The feeling of his hot breath on your lips and thumbs rubbing against the juncture of your thighs has you feeling needy for more. Jimin swirls the tip of his tongue against yours, the filthy action turning you on even more. You moan into his mouth and thread your fingers through his hair, causing him to let out a low groan.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the two of you break apart. Chest heaving up and down, you take note of your teacher's face. His lips are redder and plumper than ever before. His cheeks have the faintest blush on them. His eyes, the ones that crinkle into a happy smile whenever you answer a question correctly in class, are now clouded over with deep lust.

"Get onto all fours. On the desk," Jimin commands, and you immediately comply. Now your ass is facing Jimin and you're very nearly completely exposed to him, save the thong you're wearing.

"God, you're such a slut," Jimin moans out at the sight. "Do you get dressed up like this just so you can get fucked in class? Such a short fucking skirt that I can see whatever you're wearing underneath whenever you bend over, hm? You wanted me to give in to you, doll?" When you nod weakly, he chuckles, "I don't think so."

Arching your back so your ass sticks out even more, you whine, "professor, please fuck me. I'm so fucking horny, please." Jimin cups your pussy from outside your panties and leans over you, "I don't think so, kitten. I'm the one calling the shots here." Your pussy flutters in response and Jimin slaps it lightly, chuckling. The brief stimulation has your cunt clenching around nothing.

He spreads your knees slightly and begins trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs to the arch of your back. Feeling his breath so close to your core has you getting wetter by the minute in anticipation. He finally hovers over your back, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, muttering, "I'm going to wreck you, Y/N", and you feel yourself clench in excitement. 

"Then do it," you whisper, and Jimin hooks his fingers around the waistband of your thong and pulls it down, so slow that it's almost painful, exposing your heat to the cool air of the classroom and causing you to shiver in response. 

You don't see it, but his eyes widen seeing the strings of your slick connecting your pussy to your panties. He takes a look at your core and his mouth starts watering. You're soaking and clenching around nothing, thighs shaking ever so slightly in anticipation.

He flattens his tongue and licks a flat stripe up your pussy, from your clit to your entrance. He pauses to suck some of your juices from it, but your cunt just keeps leaking them out. He runs his tongues through your folds over and over again until you let out a wanton moan.

Encouraged by your reaction, he hooks his arms around the side of your hips, nuzzling closer into your pussy. He laps at your cunt and purposely avoids your clit, only heightening the pressure in your core.

"Mr. Park," you whine out, pushing your hips back. "Please. More," you pant out. Suddenly, Jimin spanks your right ass cheek, rubbing his hand over the fleshy globe soothingly afterward. You let out a little yelp and turn around to catch his eyes. 

"More what?" he spits out, smiling at you evilly. "My little slut's gotta tell me what she wants. How else would I give it to her?" your mind is foggy, pleasure causing you to lose track of everything other than the man behind you. "W- want you," you garble out, "t- to play with my clit too." 

"What's the magic word, doll?" Jimin teases, breath fanning over your slit, causing your walls to clench erratically. "Please, Mr. Park," you whine, pushing your cunt closer to his face. He smirks at you, avoiding your advances. 

"Good girl," he praises before finally positioning himself just barely in front of your clit. You feel him blow cool air onto your slit, but the temperature of it is magnified even more due to how wet you are. You whine out, expressing your displeasure, and Jimin finally indulges you by taking your throbbing button between his plush lips.

"F- fuck, sir, yes! Right there, please," you squeal, back arching even more. Jimin hums, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can feel yourself growing wetter, your entrance squeezing out more and more of your arousal down to where Jimin's lips are sucking. He momentarily pauses to flatten his tongue out, letting your juices drip onto them and slurping them up eagerly. The obscene noises behind you combined with the low thrum of student life just outside the classroom door mesh together to have you realize where exactly the two of you are doing this.

You glance at the clock, and your eyes widen. "Prof- oh my god, Pr- Professor Park," you moan out, trying to keep your focus. Jimin again hums, making you jolt in pleasure. "I- uh, there’s only ten minutes until the next block of classes start. I need t- to leave in around five." When Jimin releases from you with a pop, you can feel your slick running down your thighs and some dripping onto his desk. You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of everyone walking in during class to see the mess Jimin made of you on his desk and again squeeze around nothing.

"Well then," Jimin hums lazily, "guess you better cum within five minutes if you want to cum at all." He dives back into your heat, tongue skillfully running through your folds. He cycles between kitten licking and delivering harsh sucks to your clit and dipping his tongue into your entrance. You grind against his face in desperation to reach your release, and just when you finally feel it hurtling towards you at an alarming rate, suddenly, Jimin gets up.

He leans over you, trailing a hand up your slick-ridden thigh to cup your bare heat and mutters lowly in your ear, "time’s up." Your heart drops in frustration, and you whine out. Grinding into his palm, you beg for him to touch you once again, knowing nothing but how good he was making you feel just seconds ago. "Mr. P- Park, please. Make me cum," you cry out.

Jimin spanks your pussy, a wet echo sounding through the room. You jolt forward and your cunt leaks out even more of your arousal in response to the combination of pain and pleasure. "I said no," he hisses, "you couldn't cum in time, you don't deserve to cum." 

"God, look at you, you're a mess. Bent over and spread out so desperately for me. You taste so sweet, doll. So responsive, too," Jimin murmurs, lazily rubbing your slit. He's, once again, avoiding your clit and driving you insane. Your sensitive nub is now swollen and throbbing with need, slick with your arousal. 

"Has anyone touched you as well as I do, Y/N?" he asks. When you shake your head, he slaps your cunt again, another wet sound echoing through the room. "Words, baby girl," he goads, fingers dancing through your folds. 

"N- no, sir. they can’t make me feel half as good as you did. I’ve al- I’ve always been thinking about having you touch m- my cunt and making me cum really hard. and I- shit I’m so needy sir, I wanna cum," you garble out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You feel Jimin’s hand leave your pussy, exposing your soaked heat to the cool air of the room. Slowly, he pulls your thong up your thighs and the light touches make you clench in desperation and whine out.

He marvels at the sight of you so fucked out in front of him. The way his top student was falling apart at the slightest touches he gave you. And the words you said. God, to have you say such filthy things in comparison to your gentle demeanor, all because of him, it really did something to him.

Jimin finishes clothing you and presses a kiss to the top of your ass and walks across the room to get some tissues to clean up the mess you made. Still perched on the desk, you watch him needily, thighs rubbing together to relieve some of the pressure from being denied your orgasm. "So I really don’t get to cum?" You ask meekly, holding back a sob. "I need to cum, Mr. Park."

He chuckles, "there’s a difference between need and want, doll. You want to cum, you don't need to cum. But what you do need," he returns to you, leaning down so that his face is right in front of yours, "is to get to your next class." Your face, once eagerly lit up in anticipation, has now fallen in disappointment.

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a "fine" and get off his desk, feeling your arousal make your thighs stick together. Your panties are uncomfortably damp and you’re so wet you can even smell yourself. "Can you make me cum later?" you question Jimin, sliding closer to him and playing with his tie, praying that he’ll be the one to make you release instead of having to do it yourself when you get home.

"If you play nice I might. If not, then… we’ll see," he hums, handing you a tissue to clean yourself up while heading to wipe down his desk. "I have a lunch meeting in the second half of the lunch block, so if you really need me, I’ll be here before then." 

You grin and nod in excitement. "Cool! so I’ll-" you begin before the first students from the next class start filing in, making you jump. "The door wasn’t locked?" you whisper frantically to him. "We could have been caught, Jimin! Are you crazy?!"

He smirks at you, "didn’t you say you wanted it that way? Where anyone could walk in? I only did what you asked, doll." You’re left speechless as he continues. "Anyways, you should be in your next class pretty soon. I’ll write a note to your professor just in case you’re late. But get going, yeah? I’ll see you in time for our meeting." He hands you a slip of paper and straightens up, tossing the dirty tissues into the trash can in the corner of the room. 

"Okay class, we’re going to get started soon. I presume you all did the reading, so just prepare for the discussion we’re going to be having about it when the bell rings," he calls out to the class. Turning to face you, he questions quietly with genuine concern, "you okay? Did I push you too much for our first time?" 

Your mind swirls with thoughts. Our first time. The words fill you with giddy excitement. It’s just the two of you that know about this, the dirty things you were doing just minutes ago, very nearly getting caught. Knowing that this won’t be the only moment you guys are doing this, fills you with excitement.

"On the contrary, actually," you tease your teacher with a smile. "It was really nice honestly, but perhaps, you didn’t do enough." You bite your lip at the way Jimin's eyes darken and he looks away. "Get to class, Ms. L/N. The bell will ring any minute," he says lowly, jaw slightly clenched. Your core throbs at the sight and you head towards the door. 

"Goodbye, Mr. Park. Thank you!" you call out, catching sight of Lisa, who raises her eyebrows at you teasingly and mouths text me. Blushing, you nod at her before leaving the room to go to your next class.

Being "one of the smartest students on campus" comes with its perks. Like right now, for example. You always (somehow) come to class overprepared, so when your next teacher gives you a day to work on your project (which you've already finished), you head to the back of the room to text Lisa in private. 

from lisa: dude wtf was that you were literally talking to Mr. Park outside of ur class time with him

from lisa: omg wait don't tell me you fucked him

from lisa: did you

to lisa: NO I DID NOT OMG I wish tho lmao

to lisa: I was asking him for help on the paper he's assigning us and to proofread it and stuff before I submit it

from lisa: omg I forgot he assigned us that shit

to lisa: dude lmao its due in a week or so you have plenty of time

from lisa: ugh literally he's such a hottie why does he have to be so into teaching

to lisa: sis commitment to something is hot

from lisa: omg ur right wait a sec tho

from lisa: dude

from lisa: omg

from lisa: he definitely has a boner

Knowing that you were likely the cause of it, you shift in your seat cockily, smiling slyly to yourself while looking down.

to lisa: whAT

to lisa: wait how big is it

from lisa: ok I dont think he’s fully hard yet he's like semi hard but barely 

from lisa: LMFAO Y/N don't worry I think he’s packing seems kinda thick too

Taking in a deep breath, you look up at the ceiling. You imagine him slowly sinking into you and making you whimper at his size. Him seeing your face and growling, "if you’re really a good girl, you should be able to take it." You cross your legs tightly and rock up and down in a lame attempt to diminish the rising pressure between your thighs and look back down at your phone.

to lisa: pls thats so hot

from lisa: IKR I want him to r a i l me

to lisa: or eat me out… have you sEEN those lips of his wtf

from lisa: on god do not get me started

to lisa: pls i bet he’d be the type to tease you

Oh Lisa, if only you knew the truth behind those words.

from lisa: YES hes lowkey cocky bc he knows like the entire fucking population simps for him

from lisa: he’s def gonna make you beg to cum

to lisa: pls thats hot do not get me riled up in class istg

from lisa: too late i've already started babe ;)

You continue texting Lisa throughout the entirety of your class. Finally, you look at the clock and seeing that there are only a few more minutes till the class ends, you wrap up your conversation with her.

to lisa: hey btw i’m gonna be coming to lunch late… save me a seat at our regular spot?

from lisa: when ur best friend is a teachers pet :(( fiNE I guess I will

to lisa: love u!! xx

from lisa: love you too nerd xoxo

The bell finally rings, signaling the start of the lunch break and you immediately stand up and walk out the door, bidding your teacher goodbye and thanks.

Running into the bathroom, you do a quick check of your appearance. You tug up your skirt a bit higher and tuck in your shirt so that your outfit accentuates your curves. You glance at your face and notice how abnormally large your pupils are in comparison to most days. Jimin has completely ruined you today, just like he said he would. I'm going to wreck you, Y/N. His words echo in your ears as you make your way out to his classroom. Trying to ignore how uncomfortably wet your panties are, you knock on the door to his room. 

You hear a smooth voice answer with a, "come in," and take a deep breath before opening the door to see Jimin sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. He scans you up and down, eyes taking in every inch of your figure. "Nice outfit alterations," he notes, patting his laps as a hint for you to sit on it. You quickly lock the door and make your way to him, placing one leg on each side of him so that you’re now straddling his thighs. "Is this all for me?" he asks and you tuck your head down, suddenly shy now that all his attention is on you again. 

"Mhm, depends on whether you like it or not" you smile timidly, hands reaching out to play with his tie again. He laughs. "Princess, I’m conflicted. You do look very nice, all dolled up for me like this. It’d be a shame if I were to ruin your efforts. But on the other hand," he remarks, "you’ve very nearly crossed the line for indecent exposure. What if another teacher caught you like this? you would get in trouble, hm? And what if it were a student to see you like this? What would they think of you then?" He questions, causing your cheeks to burn at his words.

"They would think I- that I’m a whore. I- and that I dress up like this just so I can pass my classes," you whisper out, biting your lips in a combination of excitement and humiliation. You can feel yourself start to throb again and you start to rut against Jimin’s thighs. He shifts you over so that you are sitting on only one and slightly bounces his leg. The stimulation to your neglected cunt sends a shock running through your body and you squeeze your thighs around his.

"Look at you, so fucking desperate to cum. You think that you aren’t a little whore already, so needy for me this quickly, hm? Do you really think you deserve to cum?" He hums, admiring the way you’re worked up. He pushes up your skirt and slaps your thigh just underneath your ass. You shift away as a reaction, causing your clit to get the stimulation it finally deserved. The way your underwear rubs against your neglected bundle of nerves causes you to let out a groan and drop your head to Jimin's shoulder. He spanks you this time, making you yelp. "I asked you a question, doll."

"Mmhm, yeah," you whine out, "I deserve t- to cum, sir." At this point, your hips are moving on their own accord, shifting back and forth desperately against Jimin's thigh. He grabs your waist tightly, holding you still. "Look at me," he commands, bouncing his thigh. You mewl into his shoulder, the change in motion making you lose focus. He spanks you again, the sound echoing around the room. "Listen to directions, sweetheart. Or else you’ll get punished," he warns.

You lift your head to look at Jimin, faces just inches apart. His eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips. Slowly, you lean towards him, closing the distance between you two. He gives into your eager kiss and you glide your hands up his firm chest to run your fingers through his hair. He starts bouncing you on his thigh and you groan into his mouth. Breaking apart panting, you place your forehead against Jimin’s, moving your hips back and forth harder to increase the pressure going to your clit.

"God, Y/N, you’re so wet," Jimin pants while looking down at the way your clothed pussy drags over his thigh. "I can feel you soaking through my slacks," he says, shifting you over. just like he said, there is now a wet spot on his thigh from where you just were. Thankfully, it’s barely noticeable, but if you focus enough, you can see it.

"What are you going to do about it, hm? I have classes to teach, meetings to attend. Do you want people to see the mess you made all over me?" He hisses, spanking you to elicit an answer. "N- no, sir. I’m s- sorry," you whisper out, eyes clenched, still rutting against him. You feel your orgasm bubbling up as every second passes.

"I don't think you're sorry, doll. Look at you making a mess all over me through your panties. You're absolutely soaked, so fucking desperate to cum," he tuts, clenching his thigh muscles purposely. You gasp and shove your head into the crook of Jimin's neck, letting out a low groan.

"Mr. Park, I'm so wet because of you. I- god, I wanna cum. please. I'm so close," you mewl into him, legs starting to tighten around his thigh.

You shut your eyes, feeling your impending orgasm build up. Right when you're about to let go, Jimin holds your hips in place tightly, preventing you from moving. Squeaking out, you make an attempt to shift your pussy over his thighs. It's no use because you can feel it start to drift away slowly and you look at him in need. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you plead, "S- sir I need you to touch me again. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Jimin smiles cockily, lifting you onto his desk and spreading your legs after stripping you of your panties. You lean back so that you face the ceiling. Your eyes roll back once you feel him take your clit into his mouth. You moan and arch your back off of the desk, thighs involuntarily clenching around his head. 

"God, Mr. Park, yes! O- oh, fuck, please," you blabber out incoherently, your mind hazy and overwhelmed with pleasure. "More," you whimper out without thinking.

Jimin disconnects from your heat to look up at you, murmuring, "Greedy little slut wants it all, huh? Won't even ask nicely for it. Tell me what you want, Y/N. Beg for it, and I might just give it to you."

"God, I- I want it all, professor," you call out, wiggling your hips in search of stimulation that never comes. "Want you to stuff me with your f- fingers and lick my p- pussy and make me cum. Want you to fuck me r- raw with your fat cock from behind and sp- and spank me. Want you to ma- make me cry from cumming so hard just as much as you have from not letting me cum. A- and I want you to leave hi- hickies on my thighs so that if I bend over, p- people are gonna know how much of a cockslut I am, just for you."

"Yeah? Well, I can tell you this," Jimin says, fingers dancing up your thigh closer to your sick-ridden core. "You are a cockslut. So fucking dirty. Most people come to class to learn but it seems that you come here to get off." He inserts a finger into you and your walls immediately clamp down on it. He moves the digit in and out of you smoothly, your arousal allowing the smoothest of motions. "You like that, baby? Finally having something in that tight cunt of yours?" You nod at his question, adding on "want more, sir."

"Not enough? Greedy little bitch. look at you, so needy. What are you gonna do when I have my cock out, hm?" He shoves a second finger into you and starts curling them into your heat. You arch your back to the ceiling and he hovers over you. For a moment, there’s nothing but the squelch of his fingers in your wet pussy and your panting as he stares into your eyes. Jimin's eyebrows are furrowed and he’s biting his lip - he’s focusing on something.

That "something" becomes apparent when, all of a sudden, you nearly sit upright and let out a loud moan of pleasure, "Fuck, Mr. Park! right there." His fingers continue rubbing that special spot inside you repeatedly and your legs start shaking ever so slightly. You look back at him to see a smug smile on his face. "I found it," he chuckles as you writhe underneath him. He leans down to kiss you, lips melding together.

He keeps fingering you, bringing his thumb up to ghost over your clit ever so slightly to provide enough pleasure to bring you close to your orgasm but just not enough to make you cum. You whine against his lips and he breaks the kiss, asking "you want to cum, doll?" to which you weakly nod. "Then fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how much of a little slut you are for me. How you’re a cocksleeve for me, so wet and needy as soon as I touch you, so ready for me to fuck you." He stills his digits inside of you and you buck your hips on them, rolling your pelvis repeatedly in an attempt to get to your orgasm. You reach down to provide some stimulation to your clit, but he smacks it away.

"Jim- professor, it’s not enough. I- I need more, please." Tears start welling up in your eyes at the thought of not cumming for the third time. Jimin kisses your temple, the gentle action reminding you that he’s not going to do something you can’t handle. "Please, Mr. Park. I wanna cum," you whine out, hips jerking back and forth in a pathetic attempt to chase after your high.

"Show me then, Y/N. how much you want it. A good girl can show me that she wants it bad enough and will make herself come on my fingers alone. She’s not greedy. She doesn’t need to touch herself too. She just needs my fingers to cum. I know you can be a good girl,  Y/N," he goads. "Can you show me what the pretty little face of yours looks like when you cum? I bet you’ll look so beautiful, even more than you are right now, all fucked out for me."

"Hhngh, sir I- I’m trying," you pant out. "It’s just not enough. I promise I'm a good girl, I swear. Please let me cum. Oh god, I wanna cum." At this point, you’re nearly crying. You haven't ever been edged like this and are desperate for release.

Jimin sees this and purposefully retracts his hand from your cunt covered in your honeyed juices, glistening in the lights of his classroom. "Professor Park, please," you choke out weakly, chest constricting in disappointment. With a soft smile, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and cleans them off, savoring the flavor of you. 

"Be a good girl for the rest of the day and then I’ll let you cum, baby," he hums. "You promise?" you plead, holding onto his arm desperately. 

"I promise, Y/N," he kisses you gently and you taste the remnants of yourself on his tongue, the filthy action causing your clit to throb even more. Combined with the way your cunt is still clenched tight in preparation for an orgasm that won’t come soon, you can definitely say that you can't wait for the school day to come to an end.

"Go to lunch, doll. I have a meeting soon. Don’t think of me too much, hm? Gotta keep those straight A’s the way they are," Jimin teases, pulling down your skirt slowly, fingers just grazing your thighs. He grabs your panties. "Oh, and I think I'll keep these for now," he says cheekily, putting them in his pocket. "They didn’t seem to be doing their job when you were riding my thigh."

You watch him in shock, cheeks flushing red hot. "I- okay. uh, I’m going to lunch now, Jimin. Have a good lunch and meeting, I guess?" you say awkwardly, shuffling to the door with him, tugging your skirt down. 

"Jimin? We’re on a first-name basis already, Y/N? Don’t let anybody hear you call me that in class, baby," he winks, holding the door open and you nod, preoccupied with the little "situation" your skirt just barely hides. You can feel yourself still leaking down your inner thighs, and pray that nobody’s going to notice when you walk into the dining hall.

"Ugh! Bitch, what took you so long?" Lisa exclaims when you sit down next to her with your lunch. You pout. "I wasn't even gone for that long."

"Ha! That long, my ass. You were gone for more than half of the break! I had to tell Jaebum and his cronies to fuck off on my own! I’m not as intimidating when you’re not around, though, so I don’t think it worked. They’ll probably come over again soon." Lisa rolls her eyes. You snort, "One of them probably likes you, that’s why they keep bothering you."

"They just like any female and will take what they can get," Lisa mutters, "but anyway! How was your meeting with Mr. Park? Did you solve his boner problem?" she wiggles her eyebrows.

You clear your throat. "No, Lisa I did not. I'm obviously above that," you say in a sarcastic tone. "I simply offered to," you tease. Lisa squeals and slaps your arm in response. "But for real though," she says. "Anyone that gets to hook up with mister Park Jimin automatically wins at life," and you hum in agreement.

You scan at the dining hall around you and catch the eye of Jaebum sitting with his friend group. He winks at you and you roll your eyes and stand up, "come on Lisa, let’s go. Those assholes are going to come over any second if we stay here any longer." You drag her to your guys’ next class.

The bell rings and the two of you burst out of the classroom. Thank god that’s over. Only one more class left, you think to yourself, gripping your books tighter to your chest in excitement.

"Jesus fuck, since when were you this eager to get to the last class of the day, Y/N? I thought you loved staying in school for as long as possible," Lisa huffs out. You steer her into the direction of your locker, right across from Jimin’s classroom. 

"I'm picking up my books, you dummy. Be grateful I paid for this locker because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to put your books here." You put in the code and exchange your books while Lisa checks herself in the magnetic mirror attached to the door. you have to be careful when bending over because otherwise you’ll flash the entire school, so you do a weird sit-squat thing. "Geeking out over lockers? You act as if you’re still in high school, Y/N," Lisa teases. "Only during the school day," you wink up at her.

Lisa spots someone through the reflection of the mirror and groans out. "Incoming," she warns, rolling her eyes and turning around. "Wha-" you begin when you get cut off by a smooth voice behind you.

"Damn, L/N. didn’t know you wore skirts this short on campus. Looks good on you," the guy winks. "But it would look even better on my bedroom floor." You hold back a gag and turn to Lisa, raising your eyebrows in exasperation. 

"Wow, I see the originality," Lisa says in the most sickeningly sweet voice. "What do you want, Jaebum?" He chuckles and places an arm over your head, leaning over you. "Well, I’m having a party tonight, and it would be amazing if you two little ladies could attend. Be mine and Jackson’s plus one?" he says. You’re about to say no when he leans in closer to you, inches away from your face, "plus you can get the high-quality drinks for free, not the cheap booze we leave out for the randos who show up."

"You’re probably gonna drug them or something. No thanks, dickwad." you huff out after a second’s hesitation, pushing him away, ready to go to your next class. "Nah, baby. I may be a fuckboy but at least I've got morals. Whaddya say? You get me off, I get you off? Maybe make you cum so many times it starts hurting? You look like you haven’t been able to get an orgasm in a while, you’re so uptight, L/N," Jaebum smirks. 

"You fuckin-" you start to hiss out but you’re shut off again. This time it’s by someone different. Jimin. "Mr. Lim, I don’t think it’s necessarily appropriate to discuss your sexual endeavors while in an academic setting. I’ll be letting you off with a warning for now." He turns to you, eyes flitting across your DIY skimpy outfit. You feel your cunt leak more of your honeyed juices under his piercing gaze and clamp your thighs together to keep them from dripping down your thighs. "And Ms. L/N, I expected better from you. You’re not typically one to do these things in a school environment. Get to class, the two of you," he says, turning back to his classroom.

"Oh," he adds, "and Y/N. fix your outfit. I would hate to see you get dress coded by a teacher who isn’t as lenient." You, Lisa, and Jaebum stare at his back in shock as he heads inside his classroom. 

"Well, uh, that just happened," Lisa states, turning to you. "Ready to go?" you nod numbly, mind swirling with embarrassment and excitement as you tug down your skirt. The two of you walk to the last class of the day while Jaebum calls out, "my place after 11, L/N! I’ll be waiting!", making you wince. Great, now a bunch of people are gonna think you’re hooking up with him.

The last bell of the day finally rings, and you head to your locker after bidding Lisa goodbye. You put your books in your locker and head to the bathroom to fix your clothes. You decide to tease Jimin even more by adjusting your skirt so that it ends just at the bottom of your ass. It’s a terribly risky decision; if you walk too fast, you risk flashing everyone. You’ve tried to wipe the slick off the juncture of your thighs, but it keeps getting replaced with more of your arousal.

You speed walk down the halls and fling open the door to see that Jimin isn’t in his classroom - or so you think. Once you take a few steps into the room, you hear the door shut behind you and lock. Jimin looks at you up and down. "You didn’t fix your outfit, Ms. L/N. Looks like I’ll have to dress code you for indecent exposure then," he hums, heading to his desk to take out a slip of paper.

"Wait Jimin, what? I thought we were- um. You know, going to-" you splutter out, realizing he was actually serious. You can’t have this on your academic record! What would your parents think?

"Going to what? Fuck? Seems like you already have someone else for that, Y/N," he shakes his head, grabbing a pen. You reach forward quickly to stop him, hand, gripping his forearm in desperation. 

"No Mr. Park, I- I never told Jaebum yes. I just-" you try to explain, but Jimin cuts you off. "You what?" he asks bitingly, taking you by surprise. "Did you think that you could just come back and hop on my dick after nearly making out with another guy? God, you really are a slut, aren’t you?"

You rub your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the steadily mounting pressure in your core at Jimin’s words. "Look at you, I told you to fix your outfit and you fucking pulled up your skirt. You pulled it up. You don’t listen to me, talk to your friends about how much you want me to rail you, and yet let other guys make plans to hook up with you. And you expect me to let you cum after all of that?" he continues, noticing the effect he has on you. "You really think I should let you cum, Y/N? I'll tell you what I think. I think I should leave you like this, dripping and needy for me. So ready to get fucked by me but not being able to."

Your eyes widen, "no, please professor, no!" 

"Should I jack off in front of you and not let you touch me? Maybe then would you learn your lesson? Or maybe I should spank your ass till it’s blue you’re unable to sit. Would that work, hm? What if I just send you back to the dorms? You could ask Jaebum to touch you, even if he can’t make you half the mess I can," he continues, pushing you onto his desk. He grabs your jaw and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him, humiliated, with tears in your eyes.

"Aw," he pouts sarcastically, "is the baby crying? Because I didn’t let her cum? Well, princess, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Little cocksluts like you don’t deserve to cum so easily."

"P- professor, please. You can punish me. Teach me a lesson. B- but just please let me cum." You whimper out, attempting to cross your legs together to assuage your aching clit, but Jimin stops you by holding your knee with his other hand.

He slowly trails his hands up your bare thigh, admiring the way your soft skin seems to get chills at his touch. He pushes you back onto the desk and you prop yourself up your elbows to look at him. "Are you a cockslut, Y/N?" he asks, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. 

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I’m nothing but a hole for you to fuck," you whimper meekly as he pushes up your skirt. He pushes apart your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the desk. "Damn right you are. Nothing but a little whore that I can use to get off. I’m going to fuck you here in school like you’ve never been fucked before. And this dick you’ve been thinking about all this time, it’s going to finally be in you, and I better not hear any complaints," Jimin growls, pumping his length in his hand. "No sir," you whimper out.

"You on the pill?" he asks, to which you reply with a yes. He teases your slit with the pink head of his cock and your entrance flutters at the touch. "But on another note, tell me if you want to stop. I don’t want to push you too much."

You smile, "Jimin, you’re being too kind. I promise I'll tell you. But I did say before perhaps you weren’t doing enough. Mr. Park, I want you to ruin me," you bite your lips, mimicking his words from earlier in the day. He cocks his head in amusement. 

"Don’t worry princess, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing." Without warning, he thrusts forward into your heart, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. The girth of his cock stretches open your cunt with painful pleasure. Once he’s sheathed inside you, you can feel him very near your cervix. 

You let out a shaky breath but it’s cut off as he continues thrusting in and out of you, wet slaps echoing through the room. "M- Mr. Park-" you moan incoherently. 

"Fucking take it, Y/N. You wanted me to ruin you? Well here I am doing it; be fucking grateful." he rolls his hips into yours, hands gripping your sides harshly.

"Th- thank you Mr. Park, s- so much," you nearly sob out, almost crying at the relief of being fucked. You’re so turned on that your walls are clenching around Jimin’s dick so hard that he grips your jaw harshly. Gritting his teeth, he spits, "loosen up, babe. You’re so fuckin’ tight." You whine and try to relax but the stimulation Jimin’s providing has your eyes rolling back instead.

He snakes a hand down to your stomach and under your skirt, circling your throbbing clit. Your pussy flutters at the stimulation and you bite your lip harshly. He changes his angle slightly, causing your thighs to start shaking. His precum and your honeyed juices drip out your sopping cunt, the sound of wet slaps echoing around the room.

"Mmmmh," you moan out softly, back arching slightly. You can feel Jimin hitting your g-spot with impeccable accuracy each time. Doubled with the way his thumb is rubbing circles on your sensitive clit, you feel yourself reaching your orgasm. You try to suppress the giveaway signs of your impending release, knowing that Jimin, in order to "teach you a lesson" of sorts, is likely to take it away from you, so you attempt to just breathe out, "Jimin, fuck, it feels so good."

"Yeah, you like that, baby?" he thrusts into you deeper and harder and you bite your upper lip to stop your moans from slipping out. "Come on Y/N, let me hear those pretty little moans. Let everyone else know how well I'm fucking you, how good I make you feel," Jimin urges.

As soon as he utters those words, you give in, letting high pitched whimpers spill from your lips. Your pussy lets out filthy squelching noises at each of his thrusts, your wetness dripping down your ass and onto the desk. You feel your walls tightening around his cock and try to fight it off, but Jimin can already tell of your impending orgasm. He pulls out of you, leaving your warm and soaked cunt open to the air.

"Fuck," you exclaim in frustration, bringing your hands up to cover your face so Jimin doesn’t see your face, tears starting to spill down your face. It’s frustrating you so much that he won’t let you cum. That he enjoys seeing you whimpering and teary-eyed for him. Your thighs haven’t stopped shaking and Jimin parts them after you close them. He pulls down your arms and smiles evilly. 

"Well, what do we have here," he exclaims, "looks like the baby finally did start crying. Come on, Y/N, I thought you had it in you. But look at how you’re spread out on this desk for me, such a fucking mess. I bet you like it, huh? Dirtying up my desk with that cunt of yours."

"I need to cum, Mr. Park," you choke out, trying to gather your thoughts. "I need to cum now." your teacher’s eyes narrow and he grips your thighs harshly. "What did you say to me?" he asks, a tone laced with dangerous amusement. 

"You heard me. I-," you hesitate for a moment, but decide you’ve already put yourself through enough teasing today. You muster up your courage before saying, "I want you to make me cum now." 

There’s a moment’s silence before you add on shamelessly, "o- or if it’s too much to ask of you, I- I’ll just find someone else to help me do it. Maybe Jaebum? He promised a good time a- and said he would let me cum as many times as I want."

Jimin grabs you by the chin and pulls you up. "You’re such a fucking brat, Y/N." Shifting his hand so it’s gripping your throat, he mutters, "you don’t fucking learn, do you? I thought you were smart, hm? But has the need for sex made you lose your sense? Made you turn into a dumb little bitch, ready to bend over for anyone because you’re so horny? And here I was thinking you were better than that. That you had standards. Perhaps I was wrong, hm? Would you like to tell me?"

You try to look down, away from his piercing glare, but he turns your chin to look back at him. Humiliation courses through your veins as Jimin’s gaze wanders down your body scathingly. "Look at you," he coos sarcastically. "Y/N, baby, you’re such a fucking mess. Pathetic." Suddenly, he lifts you off the desk and bends you over it, cheek pressing the top and ass exposed over the edge to him. You whimper at the feeling of your shirt being stickied from your arousal left on the table from just a few minutes ago. You try moving away from it, but Jimin holds you in place. 

"Are you afraid that everyone else is going to see the mess on your shirt, Y/N? Is that why you’re trying to move?" he hovers over you from behind. "Or perhaps," he continues, hot breath tickling over the shell of your ear, "you want to continue being a brat. Make me punish you until you’re begging for me to make it stop."

He spanks you, the sound echoing across the room before you register the sting of his action. You clench involuntarily and let out the slightest of whimpers. "Fucking hell, are you this turned on? Making noises even if I don’t touch your filthy little pussy?" he asks, smacking your behind again. You bite down on your lip to avoid giving him the answer he already knows.

"Count for me. Be good and maybe I’ll finally let you cum." he commands, spanking your right ass cheek again. "O- one!" you groan. He spanks your left side, the stinging sensation causing you to leak more arousal. "Louder, Y/N. Let me hear you," he hisses, hand in your hair, and pulls you up slightly. "T- two," you stammer. another slap echoes across the room. "Three! God Mr. Park, please." At this point, you’re not even sure what you’re begging for; your mind is numb with lust.

"T- twenty! Agh, fuck, please," you squirm under Jimins grasp. The throbbing of your clit has increased tenfold, and you can practically feel the shaking of your thighs through the desk. 

Jimin slips his hand between your legs, feeling the soft flesh of your inner thighs slicked with your juices. "You’re fucking dripping, Y/N. Look at you. Did getting punished turn you on this much, doll?" He swipes up your slit, teasing your fluttering hole. You scrunch your eyes in displeasure and try to back up into him, only to be stopped by a harsh smack onto your already throbbing cunt. You yelp and flop back on the desk, cheek pressing the surface.

You feel him rubbing his dick against your folds and sigh in relief. Suddenly, Jimin slams into you from behind with no warning causing you to let out a harsh groan. "Ah, professor!" you exclaim, balling your fists in pleasure at finally being stimulated. His cock seems even bigger from this angle, and your entrance stings delectably at the way he splits you open.

"You feel how tight your pussy is, princess? How tight it is for me? Nobody else makes you feel this needy. Nobody," Jimin mutters in your ear after pulling you up. He pulls your head back by your hair, exposing your neck, which he plants wet kisses on. He reaches down in front of you, tracing an achingly slow path from your stomach to your slit with his fingers. You’re reaching your orgasm at an embarrassingly fast rate due to all of the edging you’re been through, so when Jimin finally brushes over your clit, it’s no surprise that your walls tighten even more instantaneously.

"Ji- ‘m gonna cum," you moan wantonly. "Yeah? Is my little slut finally going to cum?" He hisses out at the way you tighten around him. You nod desperately, gripping his arm rubbing figure eights over your sensitive bud. 

"Oh god, Jimin, I feel it coming. Please please please let me cum. I'm being good for you, Mr. Park, please let me cum," you sob out incoherently as Jimin continues railing you from behind. You feel the ridges of his cock brushing your walls and shudder at his ministrations.

"Let go, princess, I got you. Cum for me. Tell me how good I’m making you feel," Jimin snarls, snapping his hips into yours, eager to get you to finally melt in his arms. You feel your orgasm crashing over you and you clamp down on his dick, legs shaking in relief. Jimin's grip on your hair tightens as he feels you pulsing around him, getting impossibly tight. Nevertheless, he continues thrusting into you. 

You mewl, trying to shift away from Jimin's hold as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing figure eights into them, "J- too m- much," you whimper out, straining against his arms.

"Yeah?" his smooth voice asks, "but I thought you wanted to cum, princess? Didn't you? I need to cum, Mr. Park. I need to cum now." He mocks you. “Well, that's what I'm doing doll. I'm. Making. You. Cum," he emphasizes each word with a harsh thrust, jolting you forward.

You're being reduced to a mess, tears streaming down your face and slick dripping down your thighs. You can feel your gummy walls tightening more and more on their own accord, without even trying. Without even realizing it, you've changed from trying to move away from Jimin's fingers to grinding down on his dick.

Jimin, however, notices this. "God, you're such a slut, Y/N. Weren't you just asking me to stop?" He raises your left leg onto the desk, allowing him to have more access to your folds. He slaps your clit when you don’t give a response and you yelp, clenching down on his dick. He slaps you a couple more times, and your cunt drips even more, making your thighs sticky with your honeyed juices. You can feel yourself nearing your orgasm once again from his motions.  

Suddenly, Jimin pushes you back on his desk and begins hammering into you from behind. "You're going to cum again, aren't you? Filthy little girl, didn't you just cum? Are you really that needy for some dick?" You try to hold back a whimper from his words but it slips from your lips. "You're really a whore, aren't you, baby?" 

In response, Jimin spanks you, and you yelp. "Keep doing that," he hisses when you clench down on his dick. "You like being punished, don't you?" You nod meekly in response. He smacks your already reddened ass again and you hiss at the stinging sensation. Paired with the pleasure his cock is giving you, thrusting so deep into you, you can feel yourself practically getting high off the feeling.

Jimin feels you cumming before you realize it yourself. His hips nearly stutter at the way your walls have clenched around his dick. He opts to rut his hips into yours, no longer being able to thrust in and out due to how tight you are. He reaches under your body to rub tight circles on your throbbing clit and you start cumming again, clenching erratically around his dick. "You cumming, Y/N? Be a good girl and let go for me. Get this fat cock all wet," he commands. You ball up your fists and dig your nails into your palms, pleasure coursing through your veins. Riding the course of your high, you wish for nothing more but to be in the moment. 

When you come down from your orgasm, Jimin finally pulls his hard dick out of you. You feel his precum and your cum drip down your thighs. Whining, you rub them together to get rid of the feeling but it only serves to make you stickier. Jimin parts your thighs and runs a hand up them to cup your pussy, pausing to feel your cunt still clenching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He smacks your abused heat, jolting you forwards and causing you to grit your teeth in overstimulation. 

He flips you over, spreading your legs open. He leans over you, rubbing the tip of his dick over your swollen and throbbing clit, making you shiver. "Prof- professor, I can’t-" you begin but are interrupted my Jimin quickly shoving into you. Gasping, you clench down onto his dick, eyes rolling back into your head.

"You can, Y/N, and you fucking will," he grunts harshly, snapping his hips into yours. You grasp at his arm after feeling him in you deeper than before. The head of his cock nearly kisses your cervix and his impossibly hard dick stretches your tight cunt open even more, making you wince at the pleasurable pain.

"I- oh god, I really can’t. It feels-" you choke out through your tears. "It feels too- oh!" your head rolls back as Jimin hooks your legs over his shoulders, creating a new angle of penetration. He rubs your clit ever so slightly, the abused bundle of nerves pulsing under his touch. "It feels too what?" he hisses, rolling his hips upward so that his tip just barely grazes your g-spot. Too good, you want to say, but pleasure is clouding your mind and you can’t get the words out.

"That’s it, baby," he hums, "taking my fat cock so well even though you’re so- shit, you’re so fucking tight. Are you gonna cum again, hm? Cream all over my dick and make another mess?" you’re being reduced to a blathering mess, Jimin’s name rolling off the tip of your tongue. "Yeah? Can’t even hold it back a little? Even though I let you cum so many times, you still want more? Greedy little bitch," he spits at you.

When you clench down at his words, he starts pistoning his hips into yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoing around the room. His cock seems to be splitting you open even more, and you can feel every pulse of his dick on your walls. "Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum," he groans.

"I- I’m close too, Mr. Park. It- fuck, it feels really good," you breathe out as Jimin leans down over you. He slows his hips down, opting to roll his hips smoothly and brushing over your g-spot with painful accuracy. Hovering over you, his stare bores into yours, eyes flitting down to your lips, reddened and swollen from you biting them. You whimper and tilt your chin up towards him and he leans his head down to yours.

He lets his lips ghost over yours, warm breath brushing over your lips as his hips grind into yours. "P- please," you beg, and Jimin finally relents and melds his lips to yours, bringing the two of you into a searing kiss, groaning as you near each of your highs. You break the kiss to gasp out, "I’m c- cumming again Mr. Park."

"Yeah?" he breathes surprisedly, "your little pussy’s that sensitive that you’re gonna- fuck, you’re cumming already? So quickly?" he leans down as your orgasm washes over you, this one hitting you slowly and harshly. You arch your back into Jimin’s chest, hands gripping at the collar of his shirt. His thumb continues to gently rub over your clit, causing you to roll your eyes back into your head at the overstimulation. You start shaking underneath him, squirming to get away from the overload of senses, but he holds you in place as you ride your high for what seems to be like an eternity.

"That's a good girl," he soothes as you continue to writhe underneath him. "Look at you, stuffed so full of my cock it’s making you cry. Does that feel good, darling?" you nod, sobbing. When your orgasm starts to fade away, spots of white dotting your vision, he still doesn’t stop thrusting into you. 

You bite your lip, and seeing that he’s close, you whisper, "M- Mr. Park, I want you t- to cum too. I- in me." His hips stutter at your words. "Shit, yeah? You’d let me do that?" 

You nod, "want you to fill me up w- with your cum and s- stuff me so full of it that it’s gonna be in me for days. And I wanna fe- fuck, I wanna feel you in me even when I’m alone, professor." At your words, Jimin lets out a slightly animalistic growl and leans in. "You’d like that, huh?" he asks. "Me fucking you so well till you can’t think straight? Putting my cum in you so that when you walk out of here, it’s dripping down your pretty little thighs, making you look like the filthy little slut you really are? You think you deserve that?"

"Please, sir, I really want it," you beg, "please." With that, Jimin attaches his lips onto yours again, grinding his hips into yours even deeper as he finally orgasms. He doesn’t stutter his hips as he continues his ministrations, even though he can feel your walls desperately squeezing around him, milking his cock of its seed. You feel the thick ropes of his warm cum painting your inner walls every second. Each time he pulls out slightly, a bit of it leaks out of your cunt, dripping down your ass onto his desk. He continues fucking his cum into you until he’s satisfied with the way you’re shivering under him.

For a moment, all is still, nothing but the sound of the two of your breathing filling the air as you stare into each other’s eyes. "Um-," you begin, and Jimin quickly looks away, brushing his thumb over his plump lips. So that just happened. I fucked my teacher. I fucked Park Jimin.

"Wait here," he mutters, making your heart drop in disappointment. You nod, offering him a weak smile. Seeing this, Jimin reassures you, "don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back," and cautiously steps out of the room after clothing himself.

You take this moment to recollect what exactly happened. Okay, so you just fucked your teacher. It still hasn’t sunk in yet, and probably won’t till you leave to clean yourself and look at the marks he’s made on your thighs and ass. You can’t help the giddiness you feel, like a kid who got the best candy bar in the world. After all, you got to hook up with your crush - in fact, the entire campus’s crush. The door creaks open and Jimin returns with some paper towels and wipes.

"H- hey," he smiles nervously. For the first time, he’s the one that’s stuttering. "Let me clean you up. It’s the least I could do after putting you through so much today." He spreads your legs gently, cheeks flushed, and begins wiping off the slick and cum between your thighs. 

"Jimin, you didn’t do anything bad, calm down. Well, I mean you fucked your student? But other than that you’re fine. I really liked it," you try to explain, stumbling over your words. He looks at you incredulously, but shakes his head, smiling. "I don't want to tell anyone about this," you continue, "and I highly doubt you will, so this can stay as our little secret." 

"Well looks like someone got fucked a little too happy. How come you never smile this much when I’m teaching, hm?" Jimin jokes after he finishes cleaning you up, kissing your knee gently. He hands you your thong that he’s kept for half the day and tells you to put it on. 

"You’re still going to the party, right? Jaebum’s?" he asks and you shrug. "You should go. Have a fun time there, drinking and all that stuff." He leans into you, whispering into your ear, "and if that rascal wants to get into your pants, he’s going to see your soaked panties covering up that precious little cunt of yours stuffed with all that cum of mine. Maybe then he’ll finally back off," he smirks.

You blush, "maybe, Mr. Park. You know, you’re pettier than I thought you’d be." Standing up, to face him, he pulls you in by the waist till your chests are touching. You wrap your arms around his neck and he leans in, whispering, "well, Y/N, I don’t think you knew too much about me in the first place." Closing the gap between the two of you, you give him a peck on the lips, which quickly turns into a more heated kiss, lips melding together and tongues colliding. When you break apart, a faint blush on the two of your cheeks, Jimin smiles fondly at you and you look away.

"Well," you hum contentedly, "if I don’t know much about you now, I’d at least like to get to know you better in the future." 

"One day," he breathes out. "One day."

Your grin, disentangling yourself from his arms. "One day soon, I hope. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you next class. Goodbye prof- Jimin. Have a great weekend."

He smiles softly, walking you to the door. "You too, Y/N. If you do end up going to that party, have fun. Stay safe."

[wri0thesley]

Nat... 👉👈 since requests are open can I please request some Gojo fluff? If you need a little inspo maybe like, reader and him meet after they were abroad for a mission or something? I'm in love with this funky man and I just wanna give him kiths

sweet tooth - gojo x reader, sfw, 2.5k

the early bird catches the worm. or the cake, you guess.

(just a lot of talking about food tbh . . . i dont get to write pure sfw fluff much, thank u for letting me indulge in my jjk brainrot NFJVND. gn reader! )

You know as well as anyone how little free time a jujutsu sorcerer has. You’ve spent most of your past few years rushing around from place to place, calling it a good night’s rest when you manage to fall amongst your coverings before the clock strikes three in the morning. You think this probably has to go double for somebody in such a constant state of being needed as Gojo ��� but still, he’d shown up outside your room this morning, bright and early, and said; “We’re going out!”

He hadn’t mentioned that you were still clad in pyjamas, your hair still a mess about your face, eyes still sleep and shadowed. You had jumped out of bed at the knock, of course – you’re used to being needed at the drop of a hat – but there is nothing at all in the way Gojo is looking at you to suggest there’s any kind of danger brewing.

He got in last night at the same time as you, after an exorcism had dragged on longer than expected – you know this. So how is his skin still glowing like moonlight, his voice still so bright, his hair still falling over his blindfold in that effortless perfectly-styled-without-being-styled way?

If he’s slept, he’s gotten the same hour and fifteen minutes you’ve gotten.

“Not even a warning?” You sigh, stifling a yawn. “I haven’t had time to clean my weapons or anything--”

“Woah!” Gojo’s grin doesn’t fade, but he holds up his hands as if he’s trying to avoid a savage attack. “Just you and me. No curses, promise. You won’t be needing those.” He cocks his head to the side. “Unless you wanna try and take me. I think you’d lose!”

Your brow furrows. You know you’d lose, and so does he.

“Have you seen the time?” You ask him, instead. You don’t question why or how he’d gotten into the hallway to stand like this outside of the room you’re renting in Tokyo for a while. You’ve learnt after knowing him for a while that what Gojo wants, he gets – besides. If he’d sweet-talked your landlady into letting him in, you couldn’t blame her for falling for his charms.

He sticks his head into your room and turns his face towards the clock on the wall, ticking merrily away, mocking you. You had hoped, after last night, the next time you saw a clock the hour hand would be well past twelve again. He pulls back.

“Now I have.”

“. . . aren’t you tired?”

Gojo shrugs, maddeningly. Half of what he does is irritating to the highest degree – the other half makes your stomach do strange somersaults that you try and push away. Getting a crush on Gojo Satoru is just going to lead to disaster. Although at this point, you have to admit to yourself that it’s more a case of ‘having a crush’ – there’s not much denying it, when he twinkles at you like this.

“You’ve gotten a good hour of beauty sleep,” he chirps. “Not that you need it. Let me take you out!”

You’re still focussing on the compliment, slipped into his words as if it’s as simple as breathing, when he enters your room full-on and is opening your wardrobe.

“H-hey,” you say, weakly. He’s rifling through the rack without a care in the world. “I—I can dress myself--”

“It’s quicker if I do it,” he replies, pulling out one of your favourite shirts. “Here, catch--!” Your reflexes allow you to not make a fool of yourself in front of him. “The colour of that one’s pretty! It’ll look nice on you.”

You’ve had more clothes piled into your arms before you can blink. You guess that Gojo must know his way around clothes – you’ve seen some of the brands and price tags of things he wears – but you can’t help but be a little flabbergasted by just how casual he is about everything. Maybe it’s the fact that your brain is still short-circuiting after being woken up earlier than you were expecting.

He finishes and walks over to you.

“I’ll wait outside.”

“W-what a gentleman,” you manage, and he throws his head back and laughs, and the laugh feels like it lodges warm in your chest. “After waking me up, bursting into my bedroom--”

“I’ll pay for everything,” he promises. He saunters out of your room, pulling the door closed behind him, calling; “I’ll make it up to you, promise!”

You stand there for a few more moments, still struggling to process the whirlwind that is Gojo’s presence in your life – half joking, half serious, half making you think that maybe you stand a chance, when he calls through the door;

“I can’t hear you moving!”

You jump. You wriggle out of your nightwear, your cheeks heating up, as you snap back;

“You said you were going to wait out there, not that you were going to press your ear to it and listen like some kind of stalker--!”

–

You stare in confusion at the fancy window in front of you, decorated with swirling cursive in gold. From outside, you can see into the establishment – the white scrollwork chairs, the cake stands, the menus standing up in their pale white leather covers. The early morning sunlight from outside is reflecting off a perfectly organised display case teeming with tiny little perfectly formed cakes.

“If you were craving something sweet,” you say, eventually, “surely there was an easier way to get it than this.”

Gojo grabs your arm cheerfully, pulling you towards the entrance of the patisserie.

“Well, I got the first sweet thing I was craving,” he ticks it off with his other hand. “But then I had one of my patented brainwaves.” He elbows you. “Put them both together!”

“I’m not feeling very sweet after you interrupted my sleep,” you mumble, but you know that there’s no real bite in your words. You hope Gojo doesn’t notice the reaction that you have – you know he’d never let it go. You often don’t know how to respond to his flirting – he has a reputation, after all, and you are just . . . you.

“We had to get here early, anyway,” he says, as he stands before the counter. The man in the apron and chef hat behind it recognises him immediately, lighting up – you wonder how much money Gojo spends on expensive patisserie. Everyone knows he has a sweet tooth. “They sell out of some of the best stuff well before ten!”

Gojo knows exactly what he’s doing as he points out various desserts from the display case, the man falling over himself to get the – frankly absurd amount of sweets – carefully packaged up for him. You’re not surprised, knowing Gojo, about the cute animal-shaped cakes that he chooses, the smiling bears and cats with ears made of sliced strawberries. You’re a little more surprised by all of the fancier pieces he chooses that you don’t recognise, but you don’t have much time for dwelling on it.

Spoils in hand, you peer further into the establishment to choose a table.

“Nah, don’t worry about that,” Gojo says cheerfully. “We’ll find somewhere outside to sit. It’s such a nice morning!”

You don’t miss the grin he shoots you as he says ‘morning’, the sidelong tip of his head as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll scold him again for interrupting your sleep. You do no such thing, content to be pulled along behind him again as he goes off in search of a place to enjoy his spoils.

People just tend to be pulled along by Gojo’s magnetism, you’ve discovered – and you are, hopelessly, no different.

He finds a quiet bench in a shady corner of one of the local parks; the only other people going past occasional elderly, walking their little dogs. He pats the wooden frame of the bench next to him, smiling.

“You’re not going to make me eat all of this by myself, huh?”

“It’s enough for eight people,” you say, sighing and resigning yourself to your fate as you take the place. He’s lucky you have a sweet tooth too; if he’d brought someone else, they’d probably be shirking back in horror at all the sugar. “You could probably eat it by yourself anyway.”

He pouts.

“I want to share it with you,” he says, cajoling – his fingers hover over one of the smaller cakes, a perfect bite-sized morsel. You try not to think about the elegant lines of his fingers and the power behind them as he plucks it up and offers it to you. “This one’s really good.”

You bring up your hand to take the sweet from him, but he laughs as your fingers bounce away from him, not quite able to get a purchase.

“Let me feed you,” he says to you, and blood rushes to your face all over again.

“I—I can feed myself,” you say, swallowing thickly. Gojo’s smile, on full, sculpted lips, makes butterflies crash into one another in the pit of your stomach.

He brings the treat to your mouth and he’s right, it does look really good. It’s a neat little roll cake, small in Gojo’s fingers, with the green colouring so many sweets you’ve eaten in Japan have been – you hope it’s not matcha, knowing the flavour will surprise you and Gojo will probably laugh, but you open your mouth in defeat and let Gojo pop it in there. His fingers linger a little too long against your lips, his expression fluttering so quickly you don’t quite catch it.

If you didn’t know better . . . you’d say that he had just fought back a blush.

“Is it good?” He asks, and his voice sounds a little strangled. You bite down on the cake, the juice of the strawberries coating your tongue – it is matcha, but the flavour is offset by the sweetness of the vanilla and fruits, and you’re glad about it. You nod enthusiastically, and he laughs.

“I told you!” He taps your cheek. “I know what I’m talking about!”

“You’re so smug,” you tell him, unable to hold back the laughter that’s bubbling out of you. Alright, maybe he woke you up too early and maybe he’s dragged you outside and maybe he’s been haunting your daydreams for months now, but . . . you think he means well. And you can’t deny that the sun is shining and the cakes are really delicious.

“If you were me,” he says, stretching out his arms over the back of the bench, “you would be smug too.” You shake your head at him, but he has a satisfied smile on his face. “Feed me one!”

“Are you going to let me?” You ask. “Or are you just going to bounce it away with your Infinity to make fun of me?”

You hover over the selection yourself, considering what to choose for him. In the end, you go for one of the mini slices of mille crepe cake, reasoning with yourself that even if it’s unusual to be eating so much cake this early, at least crepes are a traditional breakfast. Gojo obediently opens his mouth wider as you lift the slice.

You falter.

“You really want me to feed you?” You ask him, unsure. He laughs, grabbing ahold of your wrist – you almost start as he takes a bite from the treat, his lips tantalisingly close to your fingers. Another bite, and the cake is gone (you’ve never seen slices of mille crepe so small – but then again, judging by the eye-watering amount Gojo paid for his spoils, you’d never be able to afford to buy from a place like that).

“Mm,” he smacks his lips together. “It’s good.”

You swallow, noticing that there’s a smear of the cream between layers at the corner of his mouth. Gojo notices you staring, and quirks his lips into a smirk. “You’re staring,” he says. “I know I’m gorgeous, but--”

“You’ve got . . .” You say, awkward, motioning to his face. Somehow, it feels too intimate to lean forward and dab it away yourself – he’d asked you to feed him, after all. If you did it of your own accord. . .

“Huh? Oh,” He moves one of the arms casually draped over the bench to his face, and you think he is going to wipe it away – but instead, he hooks his thumb under his blindfold, pushing it up casually so the light hits the swirling colours in his eyes.

You’ve seen them before, of course – you’ve seen Gojo at work, after all – but they’re still a surprise, a bright moment of swirling starshine dropped on you when you’re least expecting it. Your stomach does that flip-flop again, the one that you try so hard to ignore – but when he’s looking at you like that, curious and smug all at once, you don’t really know how to handle it.

You’re glad you’re in a secluded spot. There’s nobody to see the embarrassing display of you not quite knowing what to do with yourself.

“You can get it,” he says to you. “I don’t mind.”

“I—”

“Look.” His other hand rises, cups your face, thumb ghosting across the same spot on your cheek that he’d tapped earlier. “I left icing sugar on your face. I’ll get that, and then we’ll be even.”

(Did he do that on purpose, you wonder? You wouldn’t be surprised.)

Your hand is trembling as you reach for the cream. You try and force your fingers to be still as you lean in closer to him, eyes concentrated, as you wipe the little splotch of cream from his mouth. You’re so close you can see galaxies in his eyes, the fan of white lashes, the way that his throat bobs when he swallows as if he’s nervous--

Nervous? Gojo? That can’t be true.

“I got it,” you breathe, though you don’t move. Your faces are so close together. You could lean forward, just a bit, and meet his lips with your own. Gojo’s eyes stay trained on you, not faltering in the least. His thumb is still on your cheek. Your own finger hasn’t moved from the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna know what it tastes like?” Is that a falter, in his voice? You’re stuttering all over the place, but Gojo--

“I’m not gonna put that in my mouth after it’s been on your face,” you tell him, without moving. Your heart is beating ten to the dozen. Gojo’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says – and he breaks the distance himself, and suddenly he is kissing you. The hand on your cheek cupping your face into his, the other hand going about your waist, holding you tightly against him like he’s been wanting to do it since the moment he woke you up that morning.

(The mille crepe cake is delicious, you find out, from the lingering taste on his lips. Next time you two go there in the early morning rush, Gojo buys two slices.)

[a-supernatural-writer]

Doing Their Makeup

Poly Lost Boys, Michael and Star x Gender neutral reader

Basically came up with these while I was messaging @aliypop​ . Thank you for somehow getting me to a place where I wanted to write an imagine about the lost boys, Michael and Star’s partner wanting to do their makeup. XD This is everyone x reader. 

Also this is kind of my head-canon that Michael and Star became one happy family with David, Dwayne, Paul and Marko. But Max still died cause I don’t think anyone likes him. 

Warnings?: swearing? Cursing? 

Masterlist

The second you told your partners that you wanted to do their makeup, each and everyone one of them were down with the idea, but at all different degrees of being okay with it. 

Paul was the first one to practically bounce his way over to you. He already needed your help with doing his simple eyeliner on a daily basis so you paying attention to his face for more than a few minutes made him a very happy camper. 

Paul LOVES it. I mean it. Give him the whole glam rock look! Glitter? Yes! Winged eyeliner? Yes! Bitch, make him look like a disco ball and he will be very happy. He loves glitter more than any of them and will directly ask you to use as much as you wanted. 

When doing his makeup, he always smiles, loving that your attention was solely on him. Though you have to scold him not to smile because the crinkle in his eyes will totally mess up whatever eyeshadow or eyeliner look you're trying to accomplish. He complies… for about two minutes. 

This boy will have you straddling him as you work, his hands on your hips, rubbing little circles into your skin softly. He practically becomes putty in your hands as you gently touch his face. He finds it absolutely adorable that you're being so delicate with him. 

When you're done, he shows it off to everyone around the cave. His babe of a partner went all out and he will brag that his makeup is going to be better than everyone else's once you are done. 

Second would be Marko. Seeing how good you were with Paul, he was excited to see what kind of look you would give him. He wasn’t too much into glitter like his fellow blonde but he was okay if you wanted to use it. Makeup to him was an artistic form of expression so he became your canvas on which to paint on. 

Seeing you figure what colors you wanted to give him and what tools you wanted to use would make him smile with how serious you were taking this task. He would ask you as you worked what your ideas were and you thought looked best on him. 

Your bodies would be close, not sitting in his lap close, but your legs would be locked together as you sat on your makeshift bed. His hands fiddling with whatever piece of clothing he could get his hands on. It was very hard not to touch you and he wanted you to fulfill your wish for the night. 

By the end of it, Marko’s makeup look would have half of the amount of glitter that Paul had. It would be very colorful, almost reflecting the multiple colors of his jacket. Marko was a little easier compared to the others because of those colors, you had more options to work with. 

Marko reacted like Paul, showing it off to everyone. Soon him and Paul compared their looks and pointed out what they liked about them. 

Dwayne was third. He wasn’t overly into it, but he loves seeing you happy and if doing his makeup was going to put a smile on your face, then he was happy to do it. He did have a few things to say though, he was okay with a little glitter but nowhere near Paul's and heck, maybe even half of what you did to Marko. Also, no colors that were too bright. 

From that, you only choose a few warm hues, some reds, oranges and a tiny bit of yellow. Even some earthy tones to complement his tanned skin. In a way you connected it with the jaguar on his leather jacket. 

Dwayne would have his hands placed on your thighs as you worked, saying only a few words here and there, asking simple questions if he was curious about something. If anything he was the calmest one of the bunch, not really interrupting your process. 

In a way it was nice. While you worked, you didn’t really talk, too focused on the task at hand and he thought it was cute when you would bite your lip in concentration. The silence that sometimes hung between you two was sweet, like you both were in your own little world. Minus the fact that Paul and Marko were just outside your makeshift area in the cave making noise. 

When Dwayne was done, he placed a small kiss on your lips and walked out. He didn’t really show off to the others but he couldn’t help but smirk when Paul and Marko grew silent at his new look. 

David was the fourth and probably the one that wasn’t overly crazy about it. If he was going to have glitter, it was going to be tasteful and very little of it. Dark colors only, and if you want to stick on gems, guess what, they better be little and it's gotta be sexy. Make him a sexy princely creature of the night and you are good. 

For once, he let you have control, even with his requests orders on what you can and cannot do. You went to work, both of your knees touching and you had to constantly stop him from moving, trying to smoke his cigarette. In the end, you lost against him cause if he couldn’t smoke a cigarette to distract himself from your hands being so gentle with him, they were going somewhere else and you would get nothing done. 

In between his puffs of smoke, you poured everything into his look wanting it to be perfect because you definitely wanted to do it again in the future. The only way he would let you is if you did a bang up job. 

You made his facial features sharp and his icy blue eyes seemed to pierce through your soul even more with the dark eyeshadow on his eyelids. A little bit of glitter and a few small black gemstones later, he was beautiful. Definitely different from what you were used to, but with David, he could pull off anything and he’d still look good. 

With a smirk, he thanked you for your work, which surprised you, and walked back out to the others. You chuckled when you heard Paul exclaim “Holy shit!” when he saw David. Needless to say, you did make David look like a prince of the night with your talents. 

Second to last was Star. Your beautiful girlfriend of your group of male partners entered your part of the cave, bringing some of her own collection with her. Star was probably the easiest of the group to do makeup for. She already wore red lipstick on the daily and brown toned eyeshadow to compliment her skin but she never went farther than that. 

But tonight, she would let you take it a step further. Nothing too crazy, maybe even a little more toned down than David’s. 

Star practically cuddled up to you as you worked your magic. It was a little difficult but she stayed still nonetheless. You kept her signature red lipstick, and decided to focus more on her eyes and add some stick on gems that matched the colors of her skirt. 

You added a splash of color to her eyes that went well with her usual browns, picking some of her favorite makeup items and mixing them with your own.

Of course you couldn’t help but smile when Star would giggle as the makeup brushes lightly tickled her face. You wanted to scold her for it but it was too cute so you said nothing just having to work around it. 

Just as you were finishing, your last partner, Michael walked in, watching you with curiosity and a slight twinge of interest. When you did finish, Star looked to Michael to see what he thought and happily kissed him when he said he liked it. Which in turn having you redo her lipstick one last time before she left, leaving only you and Michael. 

Michael was probably the most hesitant of the bunch. It wasn’t that he didn’t dislike makeup, he just didn’t know what the process was and never really saw much interest until you expressed how much you love doing it. 

With a little bit of encouragement, Michael sat on your bed, having you sit on his lap. Michael reminded you a little bit of Paul. He was very affectionate but was much softer compared to the blonde. 

Michael asked you the most questions as you worked. Asking what tool was used for what purpose. What colors you were using and why. Glitter? Yeah, why not? Just use it however you see fit and what you thought looked good on him. 

Overall he was excited about this. New things always intrigued him and he was willing to try something new. 

When you told him you were going to give him a more softer look, he had no quarrels with your choice. Just a tiny bit of glitter, some light colors, a sharp eyeliner that could cut someone, accentuating his cheekbones a bit, and even giving him a little bit of gradient lips, made him look even more pretty than he already was. 

You were so proud of yourself that couldn’t help but hug the poor boy. You went all out for your partners and you had a lot of fun doing it. When you let him go after hugging him, he was met by a few compliments from the others who admired his own look that seemed very different from everyone else. Which made the poor boy even more flustered. 

When all was said and done, and after doing your own makeup to your own tastes with the help of Star since, well, mirrors can’t help any of you. You all went down to the boardwalk as one big group date, showing off your talents proudly, taking any compliments, and giving you credit where credit was due. 

If anything was said negatively, especially by a group of surf nazis, guess what? After your group dinner date at the local diner, those surf nazis would be your dessert for the night. 

If that did happen, you’d be a little upset that your work was now covered in blood but they all reassured you that you could give them makeovers whenever you wanted.

[shihalyfie]

About the Adventure: reboot, the likely reason why it exists, the question of target demographic, and whether I would recommend it or not

I think this reboot has been kind of a strange outlier in terms of Digimon anime in general, in terms of...well, just about everything. I also feel like everything surrounding it has kind of been giving us mixed signals as to what the intent and purpose behind the anime is -- well, besides “cashing in on the Adventure brand”, but looking at it more closely, that might be a bit of an oversimplification.

I’m writing this post because, having seen the entire series to the end for myself and thinking very hard about it and what it was trying to do, I decided to put down my thoughts. This is not meant to be a review of what I think was good and bad, but rather, something that I hope will be helpful to those who might be on the fence about whether they want to watch it or not, or those who don’t want to watch/finish it but are curious about what happened, or those who are curious as to why this reboot even exists in the first place, or even maybe just those who did watch it but are interested in others’ thoughts about it. I'm personally convinced that -- especially in an ever-changing franchise like Digimon -- how much you like a given work is dependent on what your personal tastes are to the very end, and thus it’s helpful to understand what kind of expectations you should go in with if you want to watch something.

With all of this said and done, if you want to go in and best enjoy this series, I think it is best to consider this anime as a distinct Digimon series of its own. The relationship to Adventure is only surface-level, and by that I mean it’s very obvious it’s doing things its own thing deliberately without worrying too much about what prior series did. Of course, I think everyone will have varying feelings about using the Adventure branding for something that really isn't Adventure at all, but we are really talking about an in-name-only affair, and something that’s unabashedly doing whatever it wants. So in other words, if you’re going in expecting Adventure, or anything that really resembles Adventure, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. But if you’re able to approach it like yet another distinct Digimon series, and the other aspects of it fit your fancy, you’ll probably be able to enjoy it much better. And, conversely, I think it’s also important to remember that this series seems to have a writing philosophy with a fundamentally different goal from most Digimon series, and since it’s understandable for most long-time Digimon fans to have their tastes built on those prior series, it’s fine and completely understandable that this reboot may not be your cup of tea, for reasons that probably don’t actually have much to do with whether it’s an Adventure reboot or not.

There are no spoilers in the following post. (Although I use some emphatic language for the duration for it, these are mostly just my personal thoughts and how I see the series and the overall situation.)

On what exact relationship to Adventure this series has, and why it’s an “Adventure reboot”

If you ask why they did an Adventure reboot, the easiest answer to come up with is “Adventure milking, because it’s profitable”, but that’s kind of an oversimplification of what the issue is. This is especially when you take into account a key fact that official has been very well aware of since as early as 2006: most kids are too young to have seen Adventure, and therefore have no reason to care about it.

That’s the thing: Adventure milking only works so well on today’s children, and Toei and Bandai know this. This is also the reason that the franchise started going through a bit of a “split” starting in around 2012 (after Xros Wars finished airing), when the video game branch started making more active attempts to appeal to the adults’ fanbase with Re:Digitize and Adventure PSP. (Although they were technically still “kids’ games”, they were very obviously aimed at the adults’ audience as a primary “target”.) The generation that grew up with Adventure and other classic Digimon anime was getting older and older, and targeting that audience would require tailoring products more specifically to them -- ultimately culminating in 2015 and the solidification of “very obviously primarily for adults” media in the form of both games (Cyber Sleuth and Next Order) and anime (tri.). Note that Appmon ended up getting its own 3DS game, but since it was targeted at kids, it seems to have been developed by a completely different pipeline/branch from the aforementioned adults’ games, so even that had a split.

So if we want to talk about full-on nostalgia pandering, that’s already being done in the adults’ branch. In fact, Appmon development specifically said that they felt free to not really care about the adults’ audience because that was tri.’s job. Of course, the hardcore Digimon adults’ fanbase is still keeping an eye on the kids’ shows, and it’s good to not upset them -- and, besides, even if we’re all suffering under the hell of capitalism, people who work in kids’ shows still tend to be very passionate about the content and messages they’re showing the kids, so they still put an effort into making good content that adults can enjoy too. But, nevertheless, adults are still the “periphery demographic”, and a kids’ show is not a success if the kids (who have not seen and do not care about Adventure) are not watching it or buying the toys. Appmon ended up being extremely well-received by the adults’ fanbase, but that all meant nothing since the kids didn’t get into it.

Most kids are not super incredibly discerning about so-called writing quality (it’s not like they don’t at least unconsciously know when something is good, but they’re much less likely to be bothered by little things adults are often bothered by), so there’s a certain degree you have to get their attention if you want things to catch on with them. Critical reception does matter a lot more when we talk about the adults’ audience, but for the kids, the more important part is how much you’ve managed to engage them and how much fun they’re having (especially in regards to the toyline). Moreover, there’s the problem of “momentum”; Digimon’s sister shows of PreCure, Kamen Rider, and Super Sentai have sometimes had really poorly performing shows (critically or financially), but have managed to recover it in successive years to avoid getting cancelled. Digimon never managed to get to that point, with sales nearly dropping to half with Tamers and again with Frontier. So in essence, Savers, Xros Wars, and Appmon were all attempts at figuring out what was needed to just get that “kickstart” again -- but things just never lined up for it to work.

So if kids don’t really care about Adventure, why would they do Adventure nostalgia pandering? The answer is one that official has actually openly stated multiple times: they want to have parents watch it together with their children. Both Seki and Kinoshita said this in regards to watching the reaction to Kizuna, and it was also stated outright as a goal for the reboot, but, believe it or not, there’s reports of this having been stated back as early as Savers (followed by an admission that maybe 2006 was a little too early for people who grew up with Adventure to be old enough to have their own kids). So the little nostalgia references in Savers, Xros Wars, and Appmon aren't really meant to magically turn the series into Adventure as much as they’re supposed to be flags waved at the parents to get them to pay attention, so that they can introduce their kids to Digimon and watch it together with them, until the kids eventually take an interest on their own and they don’t need to rely on that kind of standby as much. (I say “as much” because of course PreCure, Rider, and Sentai all are still very indulgent in their anniversary references, but they’re not nearly as reliant on it to the point of life-and-death.)

This is also why Kizuna’s existence and release date two months prior to the reboot is a huge factor in this. The reason tri. wouldn’t have done it is that it never actually reached a properly “mainstream” audience. It’s a huge reason I keep emphasizing the fact that tri. and Kizuna are two separate things with completely different production and release formats, because tri. being a limited OVA screening released in six parts over three years means that, although it was a moderate financial success that did better than the franchise’s other niche products, in the end, it didn’t actually reach the “extremely casual” audience very well. We, as the “hardcore Internet fanbase”, all know people who watched all six parts, and the difference between tri. and Kizuna’s release formats doesn’t hit us as hard because of international distribution circumstances, but even on our end, if you talk to your casual friends who barely remember anything about Digimon except what they saw on TV twenty years ago, you will almost never find anyone who got past Part 1, maybe 2 at most. (That’s before we even get into the part where a good chunk of them got turned off at the character design stage for being too different.) Sticking with a full six-part series over three years is a commitment, and if you’re not someone with a certain level of loyalty to the franchise, you aren’t as likely to put aside the time for it!

Kizuna, on the other hand, was a full-on theatrical movie with full marketing campaign that was aimed at that extremely casual mainstream audience, including a lot of people who hadn’t even heard of tri. (due to it being too niche) or hadn’t bothered to commit to watching something so long, and thus managed to “hype up” a lot of adults and get them in a Digimon mood. (Critical reception issues aside, this is also presumably a huge reason Kizuna isn’t all that reliant on tri.’s plot; Adventure and 02 both averaged at around 11% of the country watching it when it first aired, but the number of people who even saw tri. much less know what happened in it is significantly lower, so while you can appeal to a lot of people if you’re just targeting the 11%, you'll lock them out if you’re overly reliant on stuff a lot of them will have never seen in the first place.) We’re talking the kind of super-casual who sees a poster for Kizuna, goes “oh I remember Digimon!”, casually buys a ticket for the movie, likes it because it has characters they remember and the story is feelsy, and then two months later an anime that looks like the Digimon they recognize is on Fuji TV, resulting in them convincing their kid to watch it together with them because they’re in a Digimon mood now, even though the actual contents of the anime are substantially different from the original.

So, looking back at the reboot:

There’s a huge, huge, huge implication that the choice to use Adventure branding was at least partially to get Fuji TV to let them have their old timeslot back. Neither Xros Wars nor Appmon were able to be on that old timeslot, presumably because Fuji TV had serious doubts about their profitability (perhaps after seeing Savers not do very well). This isn’t something that hits as hard for us outside Japan who don’t have to feel the impact of this anyway, but it’s kind of a problem if kids don’t even get the opportunity to watch the show in the first place. While there’s been a general trend of moving to video-on-demand to the point TV ratings don’t really have as much impact as they used to, I mean...it sure beats 6:30 in the morning, goodness. (Note that a big reason PreCure, Rider, and Sentai are able to enjoy the comfortable positions they’re in is that they have a very luxurious 8:30-10 AM Sunday block on TV Asahi dedicated to them.)

Since we’re talking about “the casual mainstream”, this means that this kind of ploy only works with something where a casual person passing by can see names and faces and take an interest. This is why it has to be Adventure, not 02 or Tamers or whatnot; 02 may have had roughly similar TV ratings to Adventure and fairly close sales figures back in 2000, but the actual pop culture notability disparity in this day and age is humongous (think about the difference in pop culture awareness between Butter-Fly and Target). 02, Tamers, and all can do enough to carry “adults’ fandom” products and merch sales at DigiFes, and the adults’ branch of the franchise in general, but appealing to the average adult buying toys for the kids is a huge difference, and a big reason that, even if they’re clearly starting to acknowledge more of the non-Adventure series these days, it’s still hard to believe they’re going to go as far as rebooting anything past Adventure -- or, more accurately, hard to believe they’ll be able to get the same impact using names and faces alone.

This advertising with the Adventure brand goes beyond just the anime -- we’re talking about the toyline that has the involved character faces plastered on them, plus all of the ventures surrounding them that Bandai pretty obviously carefully timed to coincide with this. One particularly big factor is the card game, which is doing really, really well right now, to the point it’s even started gaining an audience among people who weren’t originally Digimon fans. Part of it is because the game’s design is actually very good and newcomer-friendly, but also...nearly every set since the beginning came with reboot-themed Tamer Cards, which means that, yes, those cards with the Adventure names and faces were helping lure people into taking an interest in the game. Right now, the game is doing so well and has gained such a good reputation that it probably doesn’t need that crutch anymore to keep going as long as the game remains well-maintained, but I have no doubt the initial “Adventure” branding was what helped it take off, and its success is most likely a huge pillar sustaining the franchise at the current moment.

Speaking of merch and toys, if you look closely, you might notice that Bandai decided to go much, much more aggressively into the toy market with this venture than they ever did with Savers, Xros Wars, or Appmon (Appmon was probably the most aggressive attempt out of said three). They put out a lot more merch and did a lot more collaborative events to engage the parents and children, and, presumably, the reason they were able to do this was because they were able to push into those outlets with the confidence the Adventure brand would let them be accepted (much like with Fuji TV). Like with the card game, the important part was getting their “foot in the door” so that even if it stopped being Adventure after a fashion, they’d still have all of those merchandising outlets -- after all, one of the first hints we ever got of Ghost Game’s existence was a July product listing for its products replacing the reboot’s in a gachapon set, so we actually have evidence of certain product pipelines being opened by the reboot’s precedent. (The word 後番組 literally means “the TV program that comes after”, so it’s pretty obvious this was intended for Ghost Game; in other words, the reboot’s existence helped ensure there be a “reservation” for this kind of product to be made.)

I think one important thing to keep in mind is that Toei and Bandai have as much of a stake in avoiding rehashing for their kids’ franchises as we do. Even if you look at this from a purely capitalistic perspective, because of how fast the “turnover” is for the kids’ audience, sustaining a franchise for a long time off rehashing the same thing over and over is hard, and even moreso when it involves a twenty-year-old anime that said kids don’t even know or remember. Ask around about popular long-running Japanese kids’ franchises and you’ll notice they practically rely on being able to comfortably change things up every so often, like PreCure/Rider/Sentai shuffling every year, or Yu-Gi-Oh! having a rotation of different series and concepts, or the struggles that franchises that don’t do this have to deal with. And, after all, for all people are cynical about Toei continuing to milk Adventure or any of the other older series at every opportunity, as far as the kids’ branch of the franchise goes, this is only capable of lasting to a certain extent; if they tried keeping this up too long, even the adults and kids would get bored, and there is some point it’ll be easier to try and make products directly targeted at the kids’ audience instead of having to rely on the parents to ease them into it.

So it’s completely understandable that the moment they secured a proper audience with the reboot and finished up their first series with this, they decided to take the risk with Ghost Game right after. And considering all that’s happened, this is still a risk -- they’re changing up a lot (even if not as much as Appmon), and there’s a chance that the audience they’ve gathered is going to shoot down again because they’ve changed so much and they no longer have the Adventure branding as a “crutch” to use -- but they’re taking it anyway instead of going for something at least slightly more conventional.

Which means that, yes, there’s a possibility this will all explode in their face, because the Adventure branding is that huge of a card they’re about to lose. But at the very, very least, Ghost Game is coming in with the “momentum” and advantage that Savers, Xros Wars, and Appmon all didn’t have: a brand currently in the stage of recovery, all of the merchandising and collaborative pipelines the reboot and Kizuna opened up, a fairly good timeslot, and a premise somewhat more conventional than Xros Wars and Appmon (I’m saying this as someone who likes both: their marketing definitely did not do them many favors). There are still a lot of risks it’s playing here, and it’s possible it won’t be the end of more Adventure or reboot brand usage to try to keep that momentum up even as we go into Ghost Game, but it’s the first time in a long while we’ve had something to stand on.

Okay, so that’s out of the way. But the end result is that we now have 67 episodes of an Adventure “reboot” that actually doesn’t even resemble Adventure that much at all, which seems to have achieved its goal of flagging down attention so it can finally going back to trying new things. This series exists, we can’t do anything about the fact it exists, the period where its own financial performance actually mattered is coming to an end anyway, and we, as a fanbase of adults hanging out on the Internet keeping up with the franchise as a whole, have to figure out how each of us feels about this. So what of it?

About the contents of the reboot itself

One thing I feel hasn’t been brought up as a potential topic very much (or, at least, not as much as I feel like it probably should be) is that the reboot seems to be actively aimed at a younger target audience than the original Adventure. It hasn’t been stated outright, but we actually have quite a bit of evidence pointing towards this.

Let’s take a moment and discuss what it even means to have a different target audience. When you’re a kid, even one or two years’ difference is a big deal, and while things vary from kid to kid, generally speaking, it helps to have an idea of what your “overall goal” is when targeting a certain age group, since at some point you have to approximate the interests of some thousands of children. Traditionally, Digimon has been aimed at preteens (10-11 year olds); of course, many will testify to having seen the series at a younger age than that, but the "main” intended target demographic was in this arena. (Also, keep in mind that this is an average; a show aimed at 10-11 year olds could be said to be more broadly aimed at 7-13 year olds, whereas one aimed at 7-8 year olds would be more broadly aimed at something like 5-10 year olds.) Let’s talk a bit about what distinguishes children’s shows (especially Japanese kids’ shows) between this “preteen demographic” and things aimed at a much younger audience (which I’ll call “young child demographic”, something like the 7-8 year old arena):

With children who are sufficiently young, it’s much, much more difficult to ensure that a child of that age will be able to consistently watch TV at the same hour every week instead of being subject to more variable schedules, often set by their parents, meaning that it becomes much more difficult to have a series that relies on you having seen almost every episode to know what’s going on. For somewhat older kids, they’re more likely to be able to pick and pursue their own preferences (the usual “got up early every week for this show”). This means that shows targeted at a young child demographic will be more likely to be episodic, or at least not have a complex dramatic narrative that requires following the full story, whereas shows targeted at a preteen audience are more willing to have a dramatic narrative with higher complexity. This does not mean by any shake of the imagination that a narrative is incapable of having any kind of depth or nuance -- the reboot’s timeslot predecessor GeGeGe no Kitaro got glowing reviews all over the board for being an episodic story with tons of depth -- nor that characters can’t slowly develop over the course of the show. But it does raise the bar significantly, especially because it prevents you from making episodes that require you to know what happened in previous ones.

The thing is, the original Adventure and the older Digimon series in general didn’t have to worry about this, and, beyond the fact that their narratives very obviously were not episodic, we actually have concrete evidence of the disparity: Digimon has often been said to be a franchise for “the kids who graduated from (outgrew) a certain other monster series”. Obviously, they’re referring to Pokémon -- which does have the much younger target demographic. That’s why its anime is significantly more episodic and less overall plot-oriented, and Digimon wasn’t entirely meant to be a direct competitor to it; rather, it was hoping to pick up the preteens who’d enjoyed Pokémon at a younger age but were now looking for something more catered to them. This is also why, when Yo-kai Watch came into the game in 2014, that was considered such a huge direct competitor to Pokémon, because it was aiming for that exact same demographic, complete with episodic anime. When Yo-kai Watch moved to its Shadowside branch in 2017, it was specifically because they had concerns about losing audience and wanted to appeal to the kids who had been watching the original series, but since they were preteens now, they adopted a more dramatic and emotionally complex narrative that would appeal to that audience instead. So you can actually see the shift in attempted target demographic in real time.

Adventure through Frontier were aimed at 10-11 year olds, and here’s the interesting part: those series had the protagonists hover around the age of said target audience. We actually have it on record that Frontier had a direct attempt to keep most of the kids as fifth-graders for the sake of appealing to the audience, and so that it would be relatable to them. You can also see this policy of “matching the target audience’s age” in other series at the time; Digimon’s sister series Ojamajo Doremi (also produced by Seki) centered around eight-year-olds. Nor was Seki the only one to do this; stepping outside Toei for a bit, Medabots/Medarot had its protagonist Ikki be ten years old, much like Digimon protagonists, and the narrative was similarly dramatic. The thing is, that’s not how it usually works, and that’s especially not really been how it’s worked for the majority of kids’ series since the mid-2000s. In general, and especially now, it’s usually common to have the protagonists of children’s media be slightly older than the target age group. This has a lot of reasons behind it -- partially because kids are looking to have slightly older characters as a model for what to follow in their immediate future, and partially because “the things you want to teach the kids” are often more realistically reflected if the kids on screen have the right level of independence and capacity for emotional contemplation. Case in point: while everyone agrees the Adventure through Frontier characters are quite relatable, it’s a common criticism that the level of emotional insight sometimes pushes the boundary of what’s actually believable for 10-11 year olds...

...which is presumably why, with the exception of this reboot, every Digimon TV series since, as of this writing, started shifting to middle school students. That doesn’t mean they’re aiming the series at middle school kids now, especially because real-life 13-15 year olds are usually at the stage where they pretend they’ve outgrown kids’ shows (after all, that’s why there’s a whole term for “middle school second year syndrome”), but more that the narrative that they want to tell is best reflected by kids of that age, especially when we’re talking characters meant to represent children from the real world and not near-immortal youkai like Kitaro. In fact, the Appmon staff outright said that Haru was placed in middle school because the story needed that level of independence and emotional sensitivity, which is interesting to consider in light of the fact that Appmon’s emotional drama is basically on par with that of Adventure through Frontier’s. So in other words, the kind of high-level drama endemic to Adventure through Frontier is would actually normally be more on par with what you’d expect for kids of Haru’s age.

But at this point, the franchise is at a point of desperation, and you can see that, as I said earlier, Appmon was blatantly trying to be one of those “have its cake and eat it too” series by having possibly one of the franchise’s most dramatic storylines while also having some of the most unsubtle catchphrases and bright colors it has to offer. Moreover, one thing you might notice if you look closely at Appmon: most of its episodes are self-contained. Only a very small handful of episodes are actively dependent on understanding what happened in prior episodes to understand the conflict going on in the current one -- it’s just very cleverly structured in a way you don’t really notice this as easily. So as you can see, the more desperate the franchise has gotten to get its kids’ audience back, the more it has to be able to grab the younger demographic and not lock them out as much as possible -- which means that it has to do things that the original series didn’t have to worry about at all.

Having seen the reboot myself, I can say that it checks off a lot of what you might expect if you tried to repurpose something based on Adventure (and only vaguely based on it, really) into a more episodic story that doesn’t require you to follow the whole thing, and that it has to break down its story into easy-to-follow bits. In fact, there were times where I actually felt like it gave me the vibes of an educational show that would usually be expected for this demographic, such as repeated use of slogans or fun catchphrases for young kids to join in on. That alone means that even if the “base premise” is similar to the original Adventure, this already necessitates a lot of things that have to be very different, because Adventure really cannot be called episodic no matter how you slice it.

Not only that, even though the target audience consideration has yet to be outright stated, we also have interviews on hand that made it very clear, from the very beginning, what their goals with the reboot were: they wanted the kids to be able to enjoy a story of otherworldly exploration during the pandemic, they wanted cool action sequences, and they wanted to get the adults curious about what might be different from the original. Note that last part: they actively wanted this series to be different from the original, because the differences would engage parents in spotting the differences, and the third episode practically even goes out of its way to lay that message down by taking the kids to a familiar summer camp, only to have it pass without incident and go “ha, you thought, but nope!” Moreover -- this is the key part -- “surprising” people who were coming from the original series was a deliberate goal they had from the very beginning. They’ve stated this outright -- they knew older fans were watching this! They were not remotely shy about stating that they wanted to surprise returning viewers with unexpected things! They even implied that they wanted it to be a fun experience for older watchers to see what was different and what wasn’t -- basically, it’s a new show for their kids who never saw the original Adventure, while the parents are entertained by a very different take on something that seems ostensibly familiar. 

On top of that, the head writer directly cited V-Tamer as an influence -- and if you know anything about V-Tamer, it’s really not that much of a character narrative compared to what we usually know of Digimon anime, and is mostly known for its battle tactics and action sequences (but in manga form). In other words, we have a Digimon anime series that, from day one, was deliberately made to have a writing philosophy and goal that was absolutely not intended to be like Adventure -- or any Digimon TV anime up to this point -- in any way. And that’s a huge shock for us as veterans, who have developed our tastes and expectations based on up to seven series of Digimon that were absolutely not like this at all. But for all it's worth, the circumstances surrounding its production and intent don't seem to quite line up with what the most common accusations against it are:

That it’s a rehash of Adventure: It really isn’t. It’s also blatantly apparent it has no intention of being so. The points that are in common: the character names and rough character designs, some very minimal profile details for said characters, Devimon having any particular foil position to Angemon, the use of Crests to represent personal growth, the premise of being in the Digital World and...that’s it! Once those points are aside, it’s really hard to say that the series resembles Adventure any more than Frontier or Xros Wars resembles Adventure (which are also “trapped in another world” narratives) -- actually, there are times the series resembles those two more than the original Adventure, which many have been quick to point out. The majority of things you can make any kind of comparison to basically drop off by the end of the first quarter or so, and trying to force a correlation is basically just that: you’d have to try forcing the comparison. The plot, writing style, and even the lineup of enemies shown just go in a completely different direction after that. So in the end, the base similarities can be said to be a marketing thing; if I want to criticize this series, I don’t think “lack of creativity” would actually be something I would criticize it for. (Of course, you’re still welcome to not be a huge fan of how they’re still guilty of using Adventure’s name value to market something that is not actually Adventure. We’re all gonna have mixed feelings on that one.)

That they don’t understand or remember Adventure’s appeal: Unlikely. All of the main staff has worked on character-based narratives before, which have been very well-praised while we’re at it. The producer, Sakurada Hiroyuki, was an assistant producer on the original series, and I would like to believe he probably remembers at least a thing or two about what they were doing with the original series...but, also, he’s the producer of Xros Wars, which definitely had its own individuality and style, and, moreover, was more of a character narrative that people generally tend to expect from Digimon anime. (Still a bit unconventional, and it has its own questions of personal taste, but a lot of people have also pointed out that this reboot has a lot in common with Xros Wars in terms of its writing tone and its emphasis on developing Digital World resident Digimon moreso than the human characters.) All signs point to the idea they could make a character narrative like Adventure if they really wanted to. It’s just, they don’t want to do that with this reboot, so they didn’t.

That they misinterpreted or misremembered the Adventure characters: There’s been accusations of said characters being written in a way that implies misinterpretation or lack of understanding of the original characters, but the thing is, while I definitely agree they have nowhere near the depth of the original ones, there are points that seem to be deliberate changes. (At some points, they’re actually opposites of the original, and certain things that operate as some very obscure references -- for instance, Sora complaining about having to sit in seiza -- seem to also be deliberate statements of going in a different direction.) The lack of human character depth or backstory doesn’t seem to be out of negligence, but rather that this story doesn’t want to be a character narrative to begin with -- after all, we’re used to seven series of Digimon that are, but there are many, many kids’ anime, or even stories in general, where the story is more about plot or action than it is completely unpacking all of its characters’ heads. In this case, this reboot does seem to have characters that are taking cues from or are “inspired by” the original, but, after all, it’s an alternate universe and has no obligation to adhere to the original characters’ backgrounds, so it stands to reason that it’d take liberties whenever it wanted. (Again, the head writer outright stated that he based the reboot’s Taichi more on V-Tamer Taichi than the original Adventure anime Taichi. He knows there’s a difference!) Even more intriguingly, the series actually avoids certain things that are common misconceptions or pigeonholes that would normally be done by the mainstream -- for instance, the Crest of Light (infamously one of the more abstract ones in the narrative) is fully consistent with Adventure’s definition of it as “the power of life”, and, if I dare say so myself, Koushirou’s characterization (emphasizing his relationship with “knowledge” and his natural shyness) arguably resembles the original far more than most common fan reductions of his character that overemphasize his computer skills over his personal aptitude. In other words, I think the staff does know what happened in the original Adventure -- they just actively don’t want to do what Adventure did, even if it’s ostensibly a reboot.

That it’s soulless or that there’s no passion in its creation: Well, this is subjective, and in the end I’m not a member of the staff to tell you anything for sure, but there are definitely a lot of things in this anime that don’t seem like they’d be the byproduct of uninspired creation or lack of passion. It’s just that those things are all not the kinds of things that we, as Digimon veterans, have come to develop a taste for and appreciate in Digimon anime. That is to say, there is an incredible amount of thought and detail put into representing Digimon null canon (i.e. representing special attacks and mechanics), the action sequences are shockingly well-animated in ways that put most prior Digimon anime to shame, and the series has practically been making an obvious attempt to show off as many Digimon (creatures) that haven’t traditionally gotten good franchise representation as they can. Or sometimes really obscure “meta fanservice” references that only make sense to the really, really, really, really hardcore longtime Digimon fan (for instance, having an episode centered around Takeru and Opossummon, because Takeru’s voice actress Han Megumi voiced Airu in Xros Wars). If you follow any of the animators on Twitter, they seem to be really actively proud of their work on it, and franchise creators Volcano Ota and Watanabe Kenji seem to be enjoying themselves every week...so basically, we definitely have creators passionate about having fun with this, it’s just that all of it is being channeled here, not the character writing.

So in the end, you can basically see that this series is basically the epitome of desperately pulling out all of the stops to make sure this series lands with the actual target demographic of children, dammit, and gets them into appreciating how cool these fighting monsters are and how cool it would be if they stuck with them even into a series that’s not Adventure. The Adventure branding and names to lure in the parents, the straightforward and easy-to-understand action-oriented narrative so that kids will think everything is awesome and that they’ll like it even when the story changes, and the merchandise and collab events booked everywhere so that they can all be reused for the next series too...because, remember, they failed with that during Savers, Xros Wars, and Appmon (I mean, goodness, you kind of have to admire their persistence, because a ton of other kids’ franchises failing this many times would have given up by now), so it’s a bit unsurprising that they went all the way to get the kids’ attention at the expense of a lot of things that would attract veterans, especially since the veterans already have a well-developed adults’ pipeline to cater to them. This does also mean that this series is more likely to come off as a 67-episode toy commercial than any previous Digimon series, but it’s not even really the toys as much as they’re trying to sell the entire franchise and the actual monsters in the hopes that they’ll stick with it even when the narrative changes.

Nevertheless, here we are. The series is over. Ghost Game -- which, as of this writing, is looking to be much more of a conventional Digimon narrative, complete with older cast, obviously more dramatic atmosphere, and pretty much everything surrounding its PR -- is on its way, presumably thanks to the success of this endeavor. It’s hard to gauge it; we have it on record that they also intend it to be episodic, but remember that this doesn’t necessarily prevent it from having an overall dramatic plot or nuanced drama (especially since the abovementioned Appmon and Kitaro were perfectly capable of pulling off this balance). Nevertheless, it seems to be a lot more of the conventional kind of Digimon narrative we usually expect, so, as for us, adult long-time fans of the Digimon franchise (many of whom don’t have kids anyway), what exactly should we make of this? Well, as far as “supporting the franchise” goes, you’ll get much more progress supporting Ghost Game than the reboot; I highly doubt view counts and merch sales relative to an already-finished series will do nearly as much for the franchise’s health as much as the currently airing series, and, besides, it’d probably do us all a favor to support the endeavor that’s actually new and fresh. So when it comes to a “past” series like this, it’s all just going to come down to a question of personal preference and taste: is this a series you, personally, want to watch, and would you find it entertaining?

For some of you, it’s possible that it just won’t be your cup of tea at all -- and since, like I said, the majority of us here have based our expectations and preferences on up to seven series of Digimon that were not like this, that’s also perfectly fine, and in that case I don’t actually recommend you watch this. Of course, I’ve never thought that it was ever fair to expect a Digimon fan to have seen all of the series released to date; the more series we get, the more inhumane of a demand that’ll become, and I think this franchise becoming successful enough to have so many series that most people won’t have seen it all is a good thing. (It’s actually kind of alarming that the percentage of people who have seen it all is so high, because it means the franchise has failed to get much of an audience beyond comparatively hardcore people who committed to it all the way.) But I think, especially in this case, with a series for which adult fans like us were probably lowest on the priority list due to the sheer amount of desperation going on here, it’s fine to skip it, and if you’re someone who lives by a need for character depth or emotionally riveting narrative, the fact this series is (very unabashedly and unashamedly) mostly comprised of episodic stories and action sequences means you won’t have missed much and probably won’t feel too left out of any conversations going forward. That’s before we even get into the part where it’s still completely understandable to potentially have mixed feelings or resentment about the overuse of the Adventure brand for something like this, especially if Adventure is a particularly important series to you.

But for some of you out there, it might still be something you can enjoy on its own merits. I’ve seen people who were disappointed by the limited degree of Digimon action sequences in the past or the fact that the series has gotten overly fixated on humans, and had an absolute ball with the reboot because it finally got to represent parts of the franchise they felt hadn’t been shown off as well. “Fun” is a perfectly valid reason to enjoy something. It’s also perfectly possible to be someone who can enjoy character narratives like the prior Digimon series but also enjoy something that’s more for being outlandish and fun and has cool Digital World concepts and visuals -- and, like I said, it does not let up on that latter aspect at all, so there’s actually potential for a huge feast in that regard. I think as long as you don’t expect it to be a character narrative like Adventure -- which will only set you up for disappointment, because it’s not (and made very clear since even the earliest episodes and interviews that it had no intention of being one) -- it’s very possible to enjoy it for what it is, and for what it does uniquely.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Sugar, sugar

(genuinely hate coming up with titles lol)

this is just rowaelin being pining idiots, one of my fave tropes for day 11--delayed love confession

just a note, the lifestyle in this fic is more of a background note and doesnt really take centre stage in this fic. it’s one ive been tempted to write for a while tbh but didnt really get around to it until now

cw: very, very light smut (like barely non existent, but just in case), a lil bit of swearing

enjoy! :)

3k words (officially my longest fic, yay!)

Every thought in Aelin's mind was blank. She trudged through her apartment that she shared with Nehemia, absentmindedly kicking off her heels that Rowan purchased for her months ago. Then the light jacket she wore joined the shoes, the fabric was perfectly soft and perfect for the autumn chill.

It was yet another piece of item that Rowan purchased for her. A lot of the things she had know were thanks to Rowan, either from his own wallet or from the biweekly allowance he sent her—a generous allowance that was a thousand times better than her weekly paycheck from the bookstore she'd been working at since she turned twenty-two; her business degree had turned out to be useless and so she turned to the bookstore that had been her stable job for three years.

Aelin barely touched her weekly wage now, it was practically buried underneath the money the Rowan gave her.

Because Rowan Whitethorn, thirty-five and a successful CEO who was well known, was her sugar daddy. Had been now for fourteen months. But he was more than that, more than just a man that paid her to spend time with him. He respected her, was loyal to her, listened to her and responded with actual sentences instead of a word or two like other men she had dated. He was charming, didn't treat her like she was nothing but arm candy, and she knew him so well, as he knew her, and each fortnight she sometimes forgot their whole arrangement, but she was sharply reminded when she received the notification from her bank that the two and a half thousand dollars that Rowan sent her was now in her savings account.

When she agreed to their arrangement after several get-to-know you dates, Rowan had wanted to give her three and a half grand every week, and gods Aelin had been tempted because she had never had so much money in her life, but told him that it was far too much and negotiated.

Two and a half thousand was the lowest that Rowan was willing to go, and even though Aelin only knew him for two weeks at that point, she could tell that he would not budge, so she agreed to the amount.

The first time that money had landed in her account, Aelin had thought that maybe she had imagined the whole thing, but the money was a sharp reminder of what she know was—a sugar baby. Those words still didn't feel like they applied to her.

And he still spent money on her when they spent time together. Just last week he gifted her with diamond earrings in the shapes of roses with a necklace to match. She wore them tonight, not because he bought them for her but because she genuinely loved the pieces.

Needing something sweet—despite the fact she had only finished her chocolate hazelnut gelato twenty minutes ago—she dug through her fridge and found the brownies that Nehemia had baked the other day. She told herself that she would leave some for her long-time friend, but Aelin really doubted that would happen.

Aelin relished in the cold air of the fridge as she found the new can of whipped cream on the top shelf. The fridge was one of the first things she purchased with the money she was now being gifted with (and after that came a new washer and dryer, a dish-washing machine and television. Almost everything in her apartment was brand new now, the food were actual brands instead of the generic, tasteless shit. She had bras that fit her properly and were so damned comfortable that she forgot she was wearing them half the time).

The old fridge was a cheap hunk of junk that she and Nehemia purchased off Facebook marketplace for a hundred dollars, it barely kept things cold, but with expensive rent and bills and general life things, Nehemia and her couldn't afford anything better.

Which was how she ended up in this situation. Picking up more shifts barely gave them anything extra, because the economy right now in Terrasen was shit. Nehemia had made a joke about needing sugar daddies, and Aelin, knowing that Nehemia could never really do such a thing, had decided that maybe it was a good idea.

Nehemia had told Aelin that she was insane for pursuing such a thing, and that she had only been joking, but Aelin was not and that she could handle herself if things went wrong.

Nehemia had told her not to do anything, but Aelin was determined and started her search. It had taken a while to find a website that was genuine and didn't make her feel like she had to scrub her eyes out with bleach.

She created her page in private, because she not only was Nehemia against the idea, but so was Elide and Lysandra—she didn't dare tell Aedion what she was doing. Her cousin could be an overprotective pain in her ass at times, and Aelin was very well aware that if Aedion caught wind of what she was doing, he would have locked her up in her room without any type of device so she couldn't go forward with her plan.

She appreciated their concern, she did, but she was a consenting, tax-paying adult, and if she wanted to use her time to get paid spending time with a rich man, then Aelin was allowed to do exactly that.

It wasn't prostitution, she had looked it up, because it was the sugar babies that had the power and so that was how it went with her and Rowan.

Aelin didn't even have sex with Rowan until it was the sixth month anniversary of her and Rowan's...relationship (and gods, it was the best sex Aelin ever had. Rowan was a generous and completely unselfish lover).

He was the first one she came across on the site and almost drooled down herself when she saw his picture. Silver hair, pine-green eyes, a beautiful tattoo down the length of his left arm and tanned skin, he was stupidly attractive and only ten years old than her.

Aelin messaged him first only after being on the site for ten minutes, deciding that surely he was the best one and that she needn't bother to look at any other candidates.

They hit it off straight away, and after deciding on a restaurant to meet at, Aelin had informed Nehemia of the matter, which she was promptly met with question after question: why can't a thirty-four year old man find someone his own age? Is he one of those men that can't date a woman five minutes older than him because of some stupid made up reason? How do you know for certain that it's him in the picture? What if he's cat-fishing you? What if he's a freak, or a killer? What if he's just pretending to be rich to kidnap you? What if, what if, what if?

And so after a heated discussion, Nehemia had come along on her date-that-wasn't-really-a-date and sat a few tables away from her and Rowan, watching them—especially him—the entire time like a hawk.

Aelin had completely forgotten that her friend was there, so enraptured by Rowan and what he did and how he saw life.

It had been fourteen months of seeing Rowan and genuinely enjoying spending time with him and weeks ago, she realised that she wanted it to be something more. That she had come to care for him, not because of the money, but purely because it was Rowan and he made her feel seen and he wasn't afraid of her, because she had once been told by an ex that she could be too much and that he couldn't handle all her baggage.

Aelin wanted a life with him.

So Aelin told Rowan she loved him when he dropped her off tonight after their dinner and a movie date, telling him how she felt, and he had said thank you. He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and went home, leaving behind the pine-and-snow scent of him.

Aelin really wanted to find a hole to crawl into and die.

She was scarfing down her third brownie when Nehemia's bedroom door opened, her friend clad in an old matching pj set, her slippers shuffling across the tile.

“What happened? Are you okay?” her friend asked upon seeing Aelin's guttered look. Her dark brows furrowed. “Did that bastard hurt you? If he did, I'll—”

“He didn't do anything,” Aelin interrupted her friend. Taking the food, Aelin planted herself on the teal blue velvet sofa Rowan gave her for Yulemas last year, ignoring the scent of not just him, but of them both from when he came over after work just the other day with pizza and a DVD that she insisted that she watched because it was too good not to, when they forgot all about the movie as Rowan buried himself inside her, leaving hickeys all over her neck that she had to cover up with thick concealer.

Nehemia joined her on the couch, her friend momentarily forgetting for now that she had walked in on her and Rowan just moments after they finished, muttering under her breath in Eyllwe as she glared at them defiling the couch, and gave her a look that Aelin knew that Nehemia would listen to every word that came out from her.

And when Aelin was done recounting the story, all Nehemia could come up with was, “Oh.”

“Yes, 'oh,'. I've probably fucked up the whole thing. So don't be surprised if I call you on your lunch break tomorrow telling you he's broken things off.”

“Aelin, I don't think he will. I know that I'm not the biggest fan of your...situation—”

“I'm aware,” Aelin said, cutting her friend off. “You still won't let me buy you a new mattress, even though yours is hard as a brick and lumpy as hell. I've told you that you can pay me—”

“Aelin,” Nehemia said, “we're not talking about mattresses right now. As I was saying, I doubt he'll break things off because I've seen the way he looks at you. I still think he's too old for you, but he cares for you. You probably just caught him by surprise.”

“How does he look at me?” Aelin was observant, but sometimes when she was with Rowan, all her observation skills went out the window.

“Like he loves you,” Nehemia said, no hint of doubt in her voice.

Aelin sighed, her feelings slowly starting to crush her. “I guess I'll just have to take your word for it.”

Sighing once more, Aelin put the food back in the fridge, showered and went to bed, forgoing her usual night texting ritual with Rowan.

She really wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.

X X X X X X

Rowan couldn't concentrate, which wasn't a good thing, since his job dealt with having to concentrate all the time. But no matter what mind-focusing techniques he did, he couldn't stop thinking about Aelin.

Couldn't stop thinking about how she said she was in love with him. How her beautiful eyes had been sparkling when she said those words to him. And how the light in them dimmed when he said thank you and kissed her on the cheek, telling her that he would talk to her later. But he hadn't texted her, nor did she.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you. He really couldn't believe that was what he said. Felt like an utter fool and a bastard as he realised he probably crushed her heart. Aelin didn't like being vulnerable, and she had been when she said those words and he had gone and fucked it all up.

Rowan loved Aelin, he did, but he truly wasn't prepared for those words. He loved how on the weekends they would be up at one am, baking chocolate goodies, dancing in the quiet kitchen, humming quietly to Aelin's classical music playlist, with her wearing not the nightgowns that he loved, but one of his old hoodies.

He didn't think that he would get along with her so well once they met, thinking that their online interactions were nothing but a fluke. He was moments away from deleting the profile because he didn't actually create it, but Fenrys had, his friend grumbling that he needed a girlfriend, with Rowan arguing that creating a profile on a sugar daddy site was not dating but probably the opposite, when Aelin messaged him.

His life-long friend didn't listen, much to Rowan's annoyance—but he didn't grab his phone out of his friends hand; Rowan blamed it on the several whiskys he had downed by that point.

Aelin bewitched him on that first meet up. She was intelligent as hell and funny, and creative and beautiful. He was aware of why she was on the date with him, but he didn't care, just as long as he got to see her again.

Fourteen months later and Rowan was still bewitched. He wanted to be with her on a permanent basis, but wasn't completely sure how to take that step.

Clearly, Aelin had taken that step for them, and Rowan was the worlds biggest moron.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you.

Groaning, Rowan turned away from his computer and looked at the skyline, ignoring the buildings to instead watch the puffy clouds drift by.

Aelin loved watching the clouds, loved stargazing, loved questioning about the universe and what the skies held.

He never really paid any of that stuff attention, not until he met her.

Rowan didn't want to lose her, didn't want her to think that he was about to break up with her over this. He had to see her, so he grabbed his keys and wallet, told his secretary to hold his calls for the rest of the day, and went to visit Aelin.

X X X X X X

It had been an usually busy day for a Wednesday and Aelin was glad for her lunch break as she trudged up to the roof of the shopping centre. She wasn't really allowed up here, but she wanted some fresh air and to feel the sun against her skin as she sat down and dug into her lunch—fast food, unfortunately for her, because she was so frazzled from last night that she completely forgot about making a pack lunch.

Rowan hadn't called her, or texted her. Not even an email had been sent her way.

Aelin hated that she felt so damned mopey. She was an independent woman, but gods, even a good morning text would have been fine.

She finished her lunch, popping several mints into her mouth to get rid of the onion taste, when the roof door crashed open and a familiar hulking figure came into view.

He must have spoken to Elide to find her here.

Aelin's brow furrowed. “Rowan, what are you doing here?” Oh gods, surely he wasn't going to break up with her, she still had hours to go; there'd be no way she could work if she had tears in her eyes.

Taking her hands in his, Aelin stood up. She steeled herself against whatever he was going to say.

“I love you, Aelin. I'm in love with you, too,” Rowan said, his eyes soft and full of genuine love. Aelin's heart shot up into her throat. “I want a life with you. I want us to buy a home, one that has warmth and character, and a big garden. I want a dog. And kids too, if you want, I know that you've never mentioned it, but if you don't want any then that is completely fine. I want to support you in whatever endeavors you want to take, and if you ever want to go back to university, then I'll support you, or if you want to find a way to use your business degree, I'll help you with that, too. Whatever you want Aelin, I'll give it to you, as long as you're by my side, I'll be happy.”

Aelin was silent for so long that Rowan thought that maybe he shocked her into silence. But eventually, she smiled, one that was dazzling in its beauty that it took his breath away.

“You love me?”

“I do, Aelin, I love you.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Rowan groaned at the amusement in her tone, in her eyes. “You're never going to let me live that down, are you?”

She smirked. “Definitely not. It'll be a nice story to tell our children...one day. For now, I think we should contend with being proper significant others.”

Rowan nodded, smiling. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good, because I need to get back to work, since I'm no longer accepting your allowances. I won't deny the use of your credit card, but other than that, you are no longer my sugar daddy.”

It was Rowan's turned to smirk, and it was the one that made her core clench. “How about I be 'daddy' instead?”

Aelin snorted, even as she clenched around nothing again. Smacking his arm lightly, Aelin kissed him. “Only if you behave,” she said against his lips, “and now I really need to go back to work.”

Rowan walked her back, their fingers laced together, and as she turned to say goodbye, Aelin said, “I'll see you later, daddy.”

Rowan groaned, and it took everything in him not to take her hand and into his car to have his wicked way with her.

By the time he thought of a response, Aelin was already back to work, helping a customer with an impressive stack of books in her arms.

But she knew he was still there, because the way she swayed her hips to the counter was all for him, and when she saw him watching her, Aelin winked, making Rowan's heart flutter in his chest.

He really did love her. And he would live with her teasing him for the rest of his life, just as long as she was with him.

[holidaywishes]

a bit of stress relief

  Requested: 👍

  Summary/Request: Can you PLEASE write about Freddie coming to your work and having a quickie in your office

  Warning: smut, fluff, whiny Freddie

  Author’s Note: REQUESTS ARE CLOSED for a bit. I do have one more in my inbox right now so I’ll add it to my drafts but after I write that I won’t be taking requests for... a while. Maybe a month? I have a few series I want to finish up before I start having requests piling up. I always love seeing my inbox full of requests for different types of fics, so this isn’t forever, just until I’m able to finish my Gally series for sure and possibly my 9-1-1 series. This request was fun and I just couldn’t say no lol. Thanks in advance for your understanding and I hope I’ll be able to get back to requests sooner than later but I’ll keep y’all updated! Stay Golden, loves! <3 

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

  Your boss asked you to go into the office on a Saturday to finish an assignment that she had forgotten to mention earlier in the week. You would’ve argued that you had plans but your boss said it was for a presentation the next morning that they needed the information for

  “I’m sorry, Freddie,” you whined to your boyfriend as he tried to convince you to stay at his apartment, “believe me, I’d much rather be here but I’m not about to get fired...”

  “It’s not your assignment, it’s hers,” he argued, “she made the mistake. Why do you have to do it for her?”

  “It’s my job” you admitted

  “Except when it’s not...” he groaned

  “Freddie,” you sighed, “I won’t be long I promise. I just need to go in and print up some stuff and make a couple calls. Nothing major...”

  “So why can’t your boss do it?” he challenged, “it’s her mistake, so.. she should be responsible for fixing it”

  “I know,” you repeated, wrapping your arms around his neck before kissing his cheek, “but I can’t lose this job. I have loans to pay off”

  “You know I can help with that”

  “No,” you scoffed, “no you absolutely cannot. I don’t want to feel like I owe you anything. That’s not the relationship we have... I’m not your sugar baby”

  “But you could be”

  “But I don’t wanna be”

  “Alright...” he laughed, kissing your nose playfully

  “I’ll call you when I’m finished okay. I give it one, two hours tops”

  “If you’re not finished in two hours, I’m coming down there and taking you home” he teased

  “Okay,” you scoffed, “I’ll see you later.” You got to the office and rushed into your boss’s office to find the information you needed to work on. The office was empty, as it should’ve been, but when you heard the door open and close, you popped your out of the door to see who was there, “Hello?” you called

  “(Y/N)?” your co-worker asked

  “Mason? What are you doing here?” you returned, noticing now that a bunch of your co-workers were walking in

  “We could ask you the same thing” he chuckled

  “Laura forgot to do stuff for the presentation tomorrow, so she asked me to come in and do it”

  “For the conference?”

  “Yup”

  “Yeah,” he replied, “our team is having the same issue. Except they’re saying they ‘lost it’ or that it ‘must have gotten deleted somehow’ so now we have to be here all day trying to fix this”

  “Why are any of this people in charge again?” you asked

  “Maybe they slept their way to the top” he joked before waving you goodbye and heading to his station. You started at this company as an intern, mostly handing out mail and grabbing coffee for everyone, but they kept you around because you had a good eye for graphic design which was important in a marketing firm. However, your boss, Laura, had replaced Debra, the former Head of Marketing, a month before you were hired to be her assistant and she really wasn’t all that fond of you. She claimed that your degree should be in Business or Marketing not Graphic Design and that you’d only ever be an assistant in this industry so ‘don’t hope for more than that.’ You didn’t think too much of her comments though, at the end of the day, you had a job to you and you were going to do it well; even if it meant coming in on the weekend to do her forgotten assignments. When you finally found Laura’s papers, you groaned audibly, realizing this wasn’t going to be quick work

  “Hey!” Freddie greeted you from the other end of the line when you called him to let him know what was happening

  “Hey...” you sighed

  “What?” he groaned, “what’s going on?”

  “It looks like I’m gonna be here for a while. Laura underplayed how much work there was for me to do...”

  “You can’t really be doing this?” he whined

  “Babe, I have to. I told you, it’s my job. But,” you added, hoping it would make him feel better, “it’s not just me! Apparently, all the senior staff forgot to do these super important assignments for the conference. So, a bunch of us are here working until we finish them”

  “You need to quit this job,” he grumbled, “clearly no one is good at what they were hired to do”

  “I can’t quit unless I have something lined up,” you argued, “babe, I’m sorry. I know I promised that we’d lay in bed all weekend because this was the first time that you had free time but I have to do this. I promise, I’ll work as fast as I can but the longer I’m on the phone, the longer I’m at the office. So, I gotta go. I love you and I’ll see you as soon as I’m done okay?”

  “Call me and I’ll pick you up,” he replied, “you shouldn’t have to take an Uber back here...”

  “Okay,” you smiled, “that would be nice. Talk soon. Love you”

  “Love you, too” he said before you ended the call. You took a deep breath and started getting to work. Organizing timelines and trying to understand doctors-note-handwriting from past meetings

  “How can she possibly expect me to be able to understand this?” you thought to yourself. You signed onto her computer and were immediately left in shock at the jumbled mess of her desktop, “holy fuck!” you exclaimed silently, it’s no wonder she gets nothing done, “she’s the most unorganized person I’ve ever seen!” You spent the next 20 minutes opening files to find what you were looking for, closing what was not it immediately so you could legally say you didn’t see anything, and then you had to spend the next half an hour printing documents and running back and forth between Laura’s office and the copy room

  “How’s it goin’?” Rob, one of the other team members who was forced to come in and work on a Saturday, asked when he noticed you rushing throughout the room

  “Oh, you know, I’m sure I’ll have a panic attack in the next, oh, twenty or so minutes” you replied, sighing as you walked back to the printer one last time. You had managed to get most of the paper work done but you still had to make a few phone calls to get estimates on some of the ad spaces needed and whether or not there could be a discount involved for the company

  “Hey!” Freddie said gleefully, walking into your boss’ office like he owned the place

  “Freddie,” you gasped, a slight sneer on your tone, “what are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you...” he replied, furrowing his brow at your response, “when you said you were gonna be longer than you thought, I thought I’d come down and surprise you. Maybe take the stress off a little?”

  “That’s sweet, babe,” you smiled, noticing the look in his eyes and realizing what he was really there for, “but I have to make some calls so I can’t... do that”

  “We can make it work” he teased, biting his bottom lip quickly before pulling you close to him

  “Fred...” you whined, kissing him once before pushing him away from you and walking back to Laura’s desk, “I really do have to work. You can sit if you want but that’s it...” he slumped onto the plush couch against the window and frowned before scrolling through his phone as you started to call the businesses on your list. After about 10 minutes, you noticed Freddie peering up from his phone to look over at you, as if he was trying to get you to hang up the phone just from a look, choosing to walk over to you when you didn’t. “Yes, that’s right. I know you’ve been with us for quite some time and our relationship has helped both our businesses grow,” you spoke as Freddie swiveled you and your chair out from the desk, “we want that relationship to keep growing” you continued before noticing the smirk on Freddie’s face as he hovered over you, kissing your neck as you tried to pay attention to the call. “Mhmm,” you said to the person on the other end of the phone, distracted by Freddie’s lips pressing against the sensitive skin on your neck, his hot breath cascading down your neck, “mhm, sure. I understand” you said again, trying not to let on what was happening. “Laura is so sorry she couldn’t make this call to you herself,” you lied, Freddie kissing his way down to your core, pulling off your leggings quickly and kissing your inner thighs as you spoke, “however, she is excited to showcase your work to those at our conference tomorrow. We all just wanted to make sure the numbers were 100% accurate...” you had to bite your lip and move the receiver end of the phone from your mouth in case any sound escaped when you felt Freddie’s tongue finally press against your clit. “Oh that’s great!” you exclaimed when the partner on the phone added a discount to the quote you’d already been given, claiming that, had he known other businesses would be hearing of his services earlier, he would’ve offered it sooner. “Thank you so much,” you smiled, Freddie’s hands pulling your body closer to his him as his mouth brought you closer and closer to your orgasm, “I or Laura will let you know how everything goes. Thank you again” you said quickly before hanging up the phone. “Fuck,” you cursed breathlessly, “oh my god, Freddie!” your back was forced to arch, as you were pretty much falling out of your seat as Freddie continued to stimulate your clit, only now moving his finger to caress your folds before slowly inserted it inside of you and pumping until you whimpered, tugging at his hair. “Freddie,” you squeaked, trying not to be heard from outside the office, “fuck” you repeated quietly, your grip loosening from his hair as his ministrations slowed and your breathing steadied.

  “How’s your stress now?” he smirked, wiping his mouth casually before standing up in front of you once more

  “You can’t do that” you said, small pants escaping your lips, making Freddie believe you less than you intended

  “I think I can” he teased

  “I was on a business call, Fred!” you exclaimed, pulling your leggings back up, “what if they heard something?”

  “They would only hear something if you let them” he countered and, ultimately, you knew he was right but you still shook your head

  “You can’t do that” you repeated and he scoffed, hovering over you once more to taunt you with a kiss but stopped right in front of your lips

  “We’ll see about that...” he smirked, taking his hands away from the chair and walking back to sit on the couch

  “What’s goin’ on with you?” you asked

  “I just want to be with you,” he whined, giving you puppy dog eyes and earning a scoff from you, “that’s what we were supposed to be doing anyway...”

  “I told you we would when I got home...” you said

  “Come here,” he said, patting his thigh, “come sit on my lap” you chuckled but obliged. You wrapped your arms around his neck after sitting on his thigh, playing with his hair and kissing his nose before he spoke again, “see, isn’t this better than making a few phone calls?” he asked, his hand beginning to rub your back lightly

  “You know I would rather be doing this, or more than this, with you,” you admitted, leaning in and kissing him softly, letting your lips linger a moment before you pulled back, “but I have to do this stuff...”

  “Just a quickie...” he whispered, “and then I’ll go. Then we can pick up at home”

  “This is my boss’s office” you whined

  “All the more reason to do it. We’re in a private spot, secluded from everyone else, it’s perfect” he replied, kissing your jaw before moving down to your neck and you let your head fall back to give him more room

  “Mmmm,” you hummed, melting into his kiss, “I can’t”

  “(Y/N)...“ he groaned

  “Just a few more calls,” you argued, “I don’t have a lot left. Just like, five, maybe six”

  “That’s a lot. How long are each of those calls? 10 minutes? 20?” he asked, “we could do a lot with that time...”

  “Stop,” you smiled, standing up from his lap and walking back to the desk chair, “just a few more calls...” you repeated. He slunk into the couch and angrily unlocked his phone while you picked up Laura’s phone and began dialing. You were able to make three calls before Freddie began sighing loudly across the room and you had to glare at him, which is when the texts started

  “I want you” he sent as you spoke to another advertising partner on the phone

  “Like now” another came through

  “I’m gonna come over there”

  “And make you cum again” you glared up at him and he smiled

  “And again” you shook your head, turning off your sound so the partner didn’t hear the constant dinging

  “And again”

  “And again”

  “Until you can’t cum anymore” you noticed him smile as he thought up more responses and you threw a pencil at him, still paying attention to the conversation on the phone before mouthing ‘stop’ to Freddie but he just shook his head with a teasing smile

  “You won’t be able to walk”

  “Your legs will be numb”

  “Your chest will be heaving because you can’t catch your breath”

  “You’re gonna crave my dick”

  “Every time you move”

  “You’ll have to physically stop yourself from jumping me in public”

  “Because you’re still feeling me inside you” your eyes went wide as you read his messages, heat flooding your face as you ended the call, forcing yourself to dial another number before Freddie could get the upper hand. He slowly made his way to the desk once more and you gulped as you swallowed the saliva that had filled your mouth, Freddie hung up the phone before it ever even really began to ring

  “Seriously, don’t...” you whispered, knowing that you were about to break from whatever move he made next

  “But I want to” he growled, grazing your nose with his and you started to give in when he walked toward the door, “crap” you thought to yourself when you thought he was about to leave but he was only locking the door

  “What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, “that was unlocked this whole time?!”

  “Yeah?” he chuckled

  “Freddie! What would have happened if someone walked in earlier?”

  “They would’ve gotten a great show” he replied, walking over to you, leaning over you but not doing anything. You took a deep breath before running your hands up his arms, tangling your fingers in his hair before bringing him down to kiss you

  “We have to be quick...” you whispered, earning a grin from Freddie before he pulled your leggings off and directed your thighs around his waist so he could pick you up to carry you to the couch. You laughed when he sat down and you fell into him clumsily, “quiet” you shushed him before kissing him slowly and trailing your hands down to his waistband, pushing his pants down just enough to free his erection while his hands lifted your shirt up, stopping to massage your breasts. You heard a laugh outside of the office and stopped what you were doing, “wait,” you whispered, “I think someone’s there” he didn’t listen, kissing your neck and lining himself up with your entrance before bucking his hips to yours; your nails digging into his shoulders to stop yourself from making any sound. His hands gripped your hips as he thrust into you, bringing your attention back to him while your lips found each other in a clumsy rush to muffle the sounds of each other’s moans

  “Fuck,” Freddie moaned first, “fuck” you were about to reciprocate his sentiment when the phone rang and your head jerked back in panic

  “Shit” you sighed, worry mixing with pleasure as Freddie continued to grip your hips tightly

  “Ignore it” he said, kissing your peaked nipple over your shirt before moving a hand to your core, but your head still stayed looking at the ringing phone

  “What if it’s her?” you whined, referring to your boss

  “Ignore it” he repeated

  “What if it’s one of the partners or the vendors? What if it’s one of the really important clients?” you asked, knowing he wouldn’t give any helpful advice other than

  “Ignore it” he said once more, pulling your face back to his before kissing you harshly. The phone stopped ringing and you felt a faint sense of peace course through you as you softened the kiss that Freddie had started, your tongue begging for his lips to part, a muffled moan intertwining with his warm breath as it brushed over your exposed neck. Your tongue danced with his for a while as his fingers circled your clit, pressing down on the sensitive flesh every so often

  “Fuck” you breathed finally, now beginning to ride him faster, feeling his thighs flex underneath you as he welcomed the sensation of you crashing onto him. “Fuck,” you repeated, “shit, oh my god. Fuck Freddie” you felt your climax build as his lips met your neck, his finger still working on your clit while you rode him harder; the loud ringing of the phone the only thing that brought you back to where you were. “Ugh” you groaned

  “Leave it” he groaned back

  “Fuck” you sighed, reluctantly ignoring the phone to continue fucking your incredibly broad shoulder boyfriend

  “That’s my girl” he smirked, watching you bounce up and down his length

  “Fuck, Freddie, I’m gonna cum” you panted, your hands clutching his shirt as your hips began to shake. “Sh-i-it, god fuck! Freddie” you moaned, still trying to be as quiet as possible but knowing that everyone in the office was probably putting on noise cancelling headphones just to try to escape the sounds they were undoubtedly hearing.

  “Almost there, baby” Freddie breathed, clutching onto your waist to assist your movements. Fuck, his hands fit so perfectly on your body, you really hated that this had to end so quickly, but that’s what he came here for. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum in you”

  “Fuck” you breathed, dropping your head onto his shoulder, your body taking over until you and Freddie met your release. Like clockwork, the annoying ringing of the phone appeared and you had to scoff at Freddie while you quickly got dressed

  “That was fun,” he smiled, “you sure you don’t wanna go round two?”

  “Hello” you greeted, picking up the phone to continue the work you had come to do, “I am so sorry about that. I’m not sure what was happening with the line…”

  “So we’ll continue this at my place then?” Freddie teased before and you nodded with wink before shooing him away but not before he kissed you goodbye. You were dreading the walk out of the office if Mason and his team hadn’t left yet but you knew it had to happen sooner or later

  “So, should we hire a clean up crew before your boss gets back?” one of the guys teased

  “Shut up” you said, hoping your embarrassment didn’t show too clearly

  “You do know we put on our headphones as soon as we saw him,” Mason admitted, “we knew there’s no way that he was gonna just show up to say hi”

  “He could’ve,” you tried, exhaling when you realized you were never going to fool any of them, “fine. Just, please, don’t rat me out. I just pulled together a miracle in that office and I don’t need Laura finding out about my office sex-capades — I don’t want that to be the reason she fires me. I’m not that girl…”

  “We know” another co-worker smirked

  “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with us,” Mason assured, “it’s a don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy as far as we’re concerned” you gave him an appreciative smile before heading out to meet Freddie in the parking garage

  “Hey” he smiled as you sat in the front seat

  “Hi” you replied, leaning over to peck his lips

  “Did you get your work done?” he teased

  “Yeah,” you chuckled, “it was a miracle but I got it done” he took your hand and brought it to his lips to press a kiss to it

  “No more quickies,” he whined, holding your hand for the remainder of the ride, until he needed it for one reason or another, “I need more than that”

  “I agree,” you smirked, “now, let’s go home so you can fuck me until I can’t walk

  “Yes ma’am.”

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Can’t get over her

Word count: 5010     

Genre: A little angst with a little fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader 

Warnings: Little bit of swearing (let me know if I need to add more)

Summary: Reader has always had a bit of a crush on Natasha but it’s unrequited. She lets Tony and Wanda take her to a club and Nat starts acting differently.

A/N: This is not a request, I just felt like writing this story. I’m super nervous about this because I’m not sure if it’s very good but I thought I would post it in case anyone is interested. This is my first x reader fic and first Natasha/Marvel fic so I wasn’t sure how to write it. That being said I hope you enjoy, and if you do, I’m always open to take requests! Btw this is completely unimportant but even though this fic is a medium length, it’s the longest story I’ve actually completed so I feel proud of myself for that!

“Y/n!” A voice rang out loudly disrupting your sleep. 

“Ughhhh,” you groaned, “what do you want?” Instead of an answer the door to your room gets thrown open loudly, allowing all the light to come in. You bury yourself under the blankets, partly to stop your eyes from seeing the light and partly to hide the fact that you were wearing Avengers themed pyjamas. 

“Rise and shine sweetheart!” You hear Tony’s voice mock. Reluctantly you poke your head out of the blankets just enough so you can see and squint at your best friend/mentor just in time to see him rush off, probably to wake up another unfortunate avenger. When you first joined you never expected to like Tony at all, much less consider him your best friend or look up to him. You had heard rumors of him being inappropriate with women and while his jokes most certainly were and you did occasionally catch him staring at your boobs he never did anything creepy to make you uncomfortable and inside he was a good man, way more so than you expected.

All that in mind you decide to get out of bed to see why Tony woke you up because he (probably) wouldn’t wake you up for no reason. Taking a minute to change out of the avenger pyjamas and into some clothes as well as brush your hair you wander downstairs. On the way down you bump into Clint who unlike you has made absolutely no effort to look presentable and looks like he just rolled out of bed. You say a quick hello but he just grunts in return, not even looking at you. Inwardly laughing about how much Clint hates to be awake in the morning you continue downstairs to meet up with the rest of the avengers who are varying degrees of awake. Most seemed to be like you; awake and fairly alert but not happy about it. Clint was probably the most asleep and Tony the most awake considering he was practically bouncing off the walls. Looking around you see everyone except for Thor and Natasha. Thor wasn’t there very often because he wasn’t from earth and Natasha usually avoided group activities at all costs to your displeasure since you had a secret (not very secret) crush on the assassin. 

“So why did you wake us up, at an ungodly hour may I add, and bring us down here?” You ask Tony, curious.

“That information is above your clearance level.” He replies somewhat sarcastically. 

“Does anybody else know what is going on?” you ask. “Or did Tony wake me up for no reason, in which case I’m going back to bed.” They all shift guiltily on their feet except for Clint who seems to be still too tired to pay attention leading you to believe they are all up to something you wouldn’t like. Nobody answers your question so you glare around the room, your eyes landing on Steve. He almost squirms under your gaze and eventually seems to give in.

“I’m sorry Y/N, this wasn’t my idea and thinking back on it we probably shouldn’t-”

“We are giving you a makeover and finding you a date.” Tony cuts Steve off.

“Seriously??!??!??” You half shout. “What makes you think I want to go on some random date you guys set up? If I want to go on a date I can find one myself.”

“Y/N…” Wanda says softly, reminding you to stay calm.

“Don’t Y/n me,” you say, still angrily yet quieter, “I can find my own dates, thank you very much.” Tony gives a small snort of laughter in response to this.

“Sure you can kid. I mean it’s not like you haven’t been on a date in over two years. Or that you’re harboring a crush for our resident scary assassin that prevents you from dating others.” You glare at him but stay silent because all of what he said is true. In your head you excuse the not dating off as being busy because you are a hero yet almost everybody on the team is dating someone and it all seems to be working out fine.

“Look Y/n,” Tony says softly which is a rarity for him, “I know you wish something could happen between you and Romanoff but it hasn’t happened yet and likely never will. You need to get over her and back out there. Besides we weren’t planning on choosing your date for you, we were just planning to go clubbing later with you.”

“Ok,” you agree begrudgingly, “I’ll do it, I just don’t see the need to wake me up at 7 in the morning if we aren’t going out until tonight. Also does everybody need to be here right now?” 

“I second that,” Clint says in a voice still rough from sleep, “just because I helped planning a little bit does not mean I had to wake up early to have this conversation. I’m going back to bed.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes at him before turning to you, “No not everyone has to be here right now, Tony just got a little over excited. As for you, as we said we are giving you a makeover which means we have to go to the hair appointment I set up plus I was thinking we could go shopping since we almost never have time to. Besides Natasha gets back from her solo mission sometime later today, so we wanted to talk with you when she wasn’t around.”

“Ok,” you respond with a little bit of excitement, “when do we leave?”

“Right now! We can have brunch while we’re out!” 

“Yes and then we can go get our nails done and gossip!” Tony says in a fake voice. Both you and Wanda turn to look at him exasperated. “Ok fine, maybe not but I am coming and we are gossiping. Also I need to find a good birthday present for Pepper’s birthday next week.”

“Well that’s good you’re coming because unless you want the same reaction as last year, you’re going to need a lot of help.” Wanda replies. You laugh a little as the three of you leave the tower, Wanda and Tony continuing their mock argument about Tony’s gift giving skills. 

Five hours later and you severely regretted going along with their plan. You were already exhausted and still had so much to do before going clubbing. You had already bought an outfit plus a few others which wouldn’t be so bad except Wanda and Tony made you try on what you believed to be the whole store before they seemed satisfied with your look. You had also gotten your nails done and were currently finishing up a lovely brunch which consisted of waffles, maple syrup and some fruits. That would have been enjoyable if not for the fact that Tony and Wanda alternated between nagging you about not chipping a nail and teasing you about your pathetic love life. It was a well known fact in the tower that while they didn’t hate each other, Tony and Wanda didn’t usually get along well but that was probably for the best since together they were ruthless. They seemed to have decided that the time for brunch was over so sighing you followed them out of the restaurant after Tony paid the bill. That’s the one positive at least, all of it was free for you thanks to Tony. 

Another five hours later and you could honestly say you were looking forward to the night more than you thought you would. You were currently looking in the mirror in your room and although usually you tended to be indifferent towards your body, sometimes even insecure, you had to admit that you looked pretty hot. The dress was in the perfect colour to bring out your eyes according to Wanda and although it was the perfect balance between classy and slutty, revealing a bit of skin and showing off your assets while still leaving it to the imagination. You also were carrying a black purse which matched your nails and shoes. Your makeup was perfectly done, naturally showing you beauty but adding a little extra glimmer. The thing you were most proud of however and the most noticeable change you had made was your hair. Before you had hair that when completely straight could reach your waist but now it was barely long enough to tuck behind your ears. When you first got to the hair salon you were planning on just trimming it and straightening in it but when you got in the chair something came over you and you just decided to chop it all off. 

BANG! The door to your room barges open and Wanda comes flying in. 

“Damn girl! You look hot as fuck!” You blush profusely at her words managing to stammer out a thank you. You have never been good at taking compliments because you always get a little shy and awkward. 

Tony pokes his head around the doorframe and gives a whistle. “You are smoking hot Y/n, I mean if I didn’t have Pepper I would be all over you. You ready to go?” Not waiting for an answer he turns and starts towards the elevator. You follow but not before exchanging an eye roll with Wanda about Tony’s words. The elevator ride is short and smooth thanks to Tony’s engineering so you don’t have enough time to succumb to the urge of placing your hands on the bars and pushing while lifting your feet. The elevator beeps, Jarvis informing  you that you’ve reached the ground level and the doors open. You step out ready to get on with your night but the sight of Natasha just back from a mission freezes you in your tracks. 

“Hi,” you say lamely, “I thought you were supposed to get back earlier today?”

“We had some intel that wasn’t fully correct but luckily it didn’t take too long to fix. You look different, where are you heading off to?”

You glance at Tony and Wanda for help because for some reason you feel awkward telling her but they don’t seem to know what you want so you answer anyways. “We’re going clubbing, I’m kinda nervous since I haven’t been in awhile but Wanda helped me get ready-”

“Hey I helped too!”

You ignore Tony’s protest and continue to speak. “-and I think it should be fun. Also there will for sure be hot girls there which is always a plus.”  

“Seems like it should be fun,” she responds in her monotone ‘I don’t care’ voice that you hate, “Good luck with the girls though, because your hair looked better long, I don’t like it like this.” You don’t usually get offended easily but you feel tears spring to your eyes at her comment. The only good part is that she doesn’t notice because she’s already walking away, swaying her hips, either not knowing or caring that she hurt you.

Tony and Wanda rush over to you. “Oh sweetie,” Wanda comforts while wrapping an arm around you, “don’t listen to her, that’s not true at all!”

“Then why would she say it?” You ask, careful to keep your voice from cracking because you hated showing when you were upset.

“I don’t know and honestly I don’t give a fuck.” Tony replies. “Just don’t think about it too much, the whole point of this night is to get over her anyways.” You give him a small smile at that. Tony is good with words which translates into being good at comforting people. You know he’s right so although the comment is still upsetting you do your best to push it out of your mind. Locking arms with both Tony and Wanda you pull them towards the door and into the waiting limo. You couldn’t help but smile at the way Tony ruffled your hair as you stepped in or how Wanda kept running her fingers over her arm in an attempt to be reassuring. You had the best friends. 

The ride over seemed way shorter than it was supposed to be and before you knew it the limo was stopped to let the three of you out. You take a deep breath and wipe your sweaty palms on your dress before smiling and stepping out after Tony and Wanda. Nobody seems to have noticed the three of you yet which was a good thing. Being Avengers Tony and Wanda were pretty much celebrities and often got swarmed by groups of fans. Technically you were an avenger as well but like Natasha and Clint it was only because you were a Shield so while you did get recognized it wasn’t as often and only tended to happen if you were with other avengers. You make your way inside, splitting from Tony and Wanda at the door. The plan was for them to go to the bar and look over you from there while you went straight to the dance floor because you preferred to be anonymous tonight and they would ruin that and also you didn’t feel like getting drunk. That was the plan at least but you suspected that they would get too drunk to continue watching over you because it had been stressful lately with a lot of paperwork and they needed to unwind. Wanda had practically confirmed that fact when she gave you permission to leave without them. 

You step over to the dance floor glancing around to see if there looked to be any single women already there. The reason you had chosen this club was because although it wasn’t lgbtq+ exclusive, it was open to everybody and therefore frequented by many members of the community. 

Just as you were glancing around you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Wanna dance?” You spin around to find the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, apart from Natasha. It bothers you that you’re using Natasha as your standard and comparing other girls to her but you brush that off. 

“I would love to!” At your response she takes your hand, pulling you into the crowd and starts to dance. You dance as well and slowly you lose track of time as you loosen up and your dancing with the girl becomes less and less innocent. You can feel yourself caring less about what Natasha thought although as great as this girl seemed to be you knew you weren’t ready for a relationship so you hoped she wasn’t looking for one. After what could be a couple of hours because you’ve completely lost track of time, you and the girl whose name you still don’t know head over to a corner of the room and take a seat on two of the stools that were provided. 

“Hi, I feel like I should know your name by now, I’m Y/n.” You introduce yourself. 

“Wait I thought you looked familiar!” She exclaims. “You’re the Y/n that’s a part of the avengers right?” 

You awkwardly give a nod and gesture towards the bar where you can see Tony and Wanda who have obviously had at least a few drinks each. “Tony and Wanda came with me. They are just over there but I didn’t particularly want the spotlight tonight so I split from them at the door.” 

“I understand, I must admit I have no desire to be famous. I’m Jamie by the way” She says with a cute little giggle before her mood seems to be more solemn. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to a literal avenger and if my friends find out they are going to kill me but I’m sorry if you’re looking for a relationship but I just got out of a serious relationship and am not ready for another one quite yet.” 

You let out a relieved sigh. “I’m not looking for a relationship either, because I’m trying to get over my feelings for a friend.” 

“Phew!” She replies. “But tell me more about this ‘friend’ of yours.” You take a minute to think before deciding that Jamie could be trusted. You begin to spill all about your feelings for Natasha and how she didn’t seem interested and what she said to you on your way here. Jamie listens sympathetically the entire time before telling you all about how she thought her ex was the one but it turns out she was emotionally abusive. Even though you just met you talk like old friends, offering advice on serious topics but also chatting about random things. You have 3 more drinks each and after every drink your barriers crumble more and more. Eventually you exchange numbers so you can meet up again although you both agreed it would be a platonic meetup. Just as you were giggling about a joke you couldn’t even remember, you saw Jamie tense up and a second later you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turn your head in anger expecting it to be some creepy guy trying to hit on you but it turns to confusion when you see Natasha. 

“Can we talk?” She asks, giving Jamie a dirty look. “At the tower. Without her.” 

“Why?” You ask. “I’m having fun here Nat.” You specifically say her name as you speak so Jamie knows who you’re talking to. 

“Just come home.” She says not answering your question, instead tugging at your wrist lightly. You sigh not knowing what to do so you glance at Jamie for help. 

She shrugs and then says, “I have a ride home planned if you want to leave, but I wouldn’t mind staying longer if that’s what you want.”

You make a quick decision in your head before responding, “Ok, we’ll go back to the tower but there better be a good reason.” You then turn to Jamie, “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, and then we can figure out when to hang out.”

“Of course,” she agrees leaning forwards to hug you while whispering in your ear, “good luck but remember not to let her treat you badly just because you’re in love with her.” You pull back from the hug and smile at her as Natasha’s hand moves down to your own as she starts walking, pulling you along with her. You can barely think straight, you have no idea what is going on with Natasha or why she’s acting so weirdly. You glance over to Tony and Wanda to see if they’ve noticed what’s going on but just as you suspected they were drunk out of their minds. If they were normal friends you would have worried about them but you knew Tony’s drivers would get them home safe because although Tony was more responsible with Pepper around this was not the first time they’ve had to haul his drunk ass back to the tower. 

Natasha continues to pull you out the door and over to her parked motorcycle where she hands you a helmet and one of her leather jackets. Still not speaking she hops on and motions for you to get on behind her. You swing your leg over the side somewhat awkwardly and scoot forwards so you can grab onto her waist. Once she’s sure you’re secured properly she hits the gas, the motorcycle roaring as it starts. You’ve never been on her motorcycle before so at first you are a bit nervous but after a couple of minutes you start to feel more comfortable. At this point your only nerves come from holding Natasha and wondering what she wants to talk to you about and not the motorcycle ride. Compared to the ride over to the club, this ride feels like it’s taking forever as you start to go over all the important reasons Nat would want to talk to you. You still didn’t know how to feel about everything because she insulted you earlier and now is making you feel important. To protect your feelings you tell yourself that there is probably a mission or a meeting that came up last minute and this isn’t just Natasha wanting to talk. It’s improbable because if that was the case she would have outright said so but you can’t think of any more plausible reasons off the top of your head. Luckily before you can analyze her strange behavior anymore you reach the tower and after parking underground you follow Natasha upstairs into the main living area which is obviously deserted as it is now between 3 and 4 am. 

“So why did you want to talk?” You ask, breaking the silence as you take a seat on the couch. 

“Why did you go to a club?” She asks, also sitting down on the other end of the couch, avoiding your question. 

A surge of anger floods through you and while you don’t shout, you raise your voice a little. “Answer the fucking question Nat. Or did you bring me all the way back just to ask that?” 

She looks somewhat surprised that you raised your voice but she keeps hers even. “I just wanted to know. It looked like you were having fun with whoever that girl is.” 

“Yeah I was.” You respond, still confused. “But how do you know that?” 

Natasha avoids eye contact looking everywhere but you. “I was watching you.” 

“YOU WERE WHAT?” You shout before lowering your voice to avoid waking up the whole tower. “Why the fuck were you spying on me?”  

“I- I wasn’t.” She replies seemingly caught off guard by your tone of voice. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.” 

“Tony and Wanda were with me.” You respond confused. There’s something she’s not telling you that’s making her act weird. She knew you could handle yourself so she obviously was not telling the truth, or at least omitting details. She hasn’t responded to your last statement, instead choosing to look at you in the weird way she does that makes you feel like you’re being interrogated. You decide that if she isn’t going to talk, you won’t either so you pull your phone out of your jacket to check it. You see a text from Jamie saying she got home ok with a little smiley face at the end that causes you to smile. You type back a quick reply, just saying you’re glad she’s safe and that you were with Natasha right now and were probably going to bed soon so you’d text her tomorrow. She wished you luck and goodnight with another little smiley face that made you smile again. Putting your phone away you look back up at Natasha only to find out she’s glaring at you. 

Unsure of what could have changed her attitude towards you, you ask, “What?”

“Who were you talking to?” She asks ignoring your question for the second time tonight. 

You sigh, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business but if you really must know I was just saying goodnight to the girl from the club, Jamie.”

“So that’s her name.” She says wrinkling her nose. Now you’re really confused as to what Natasha is thinking. You couldn’t tell on normal days but usually she acted rationally and never was like this. 

“Why do you say it like that?” You ask. 

“I don’t like her.”

“Why don’t you like her?” 

“I just don’t.” She answers, offering no explanation. Although you do want to find out why Natasha doesn’t like her you’re too tired to spend the time asking questions so you stand up to go to bed. 

“Where are you going?” She demands. 

You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time of the night. “I’m going to bed. You wanted to talk to me but won’t actually talk, and when I ask you questions, instead of responding you insult my new friend.”

“Friend?” She questions.

“Jamie.” You say confused because you thought the answer was obvious. 

“Oh.” She responds, “I’m sorry, please stay.” You think about it for a second, deciding to stay so you go to sit down again, but before you do Natasha scoots over to your end of the couch pulling you down into her side. Your entire body freezes up because you’re so unsure of what to do. Natasha never initiated physical contact of any kind but now she was practically hugging you. Seeming to realize how uncomfortable you were, she quickly moves away.

“Sorry,” she mutters, “That was stupid.”

“No, no, it’s fine, you can come back.” You respond quickly. As much as you were uncomfortable, it felt really nice to have her by your side. She somewhat shyly shifts back over to you but this time instead of wrapping her arm around your shoulders she nuzzles into your side, maneuvering your arms so they wrap around her. You have no idea what’s going on right now but you can’t help but smile as you look down at her. She looks cute and relaxed, with her hair covering parts of her face. Thinking about her hair reminds you of her opinion of your new haircut. You bite your lip nervously as you debate asking her about that or not. You definitely don’t want to ruin the cuddly mood that she’s in now but the comment still bothers you, not to mention you never actually found out why she took you home from the club.

“Um Natasha?” You ask in a timid voice. “Is my haircut really that bad?” 

“Of course not, I think it suits you.” She responds smoothly. “I lied to you earlier.”

You smile at that. “Thank you but why?”

She takes a deep shaky breath before speaking. “Promise this won’t change anything between us first, that we will stay friends.” 

“Ok,” You respond, earnest but confused, “I promise.”

“I didn’t like the idea of you going clubbing and coming home with some one night stand or even worse a girlfriend because I have feelings for you. So I was childish and took out my frustrations on you by pretending I didn’t like you. I’m sorry.” She’s looking up at you now, the most nervous you’ve ever seen her. Your mind is exploding with this new information and your heart feels so happy you can’t even believe what is going on. 

“Is that why you were watching me with Jamie at the club and then told me you had to talk to me?”

“Yeah”

After a few more seconds of shocked silence that feels like hours to Natasha you finally speak. “I know I promised that this wouldn’t change anything between us but I don’t think it can be the same.” She starts to pull away from your side but before she can you lean over and press your lips against hers. At first you are hesitant but once she starts kissing back you gain confidence, the kiss getting more heated. After a minute or two you both pull away to catch your breath, smiling at each other. 

Natasha lightly swats you on the arm. “You’re evil.” You giggle a little in response. “I was so worried for a second there, I thought you would be weirded out by that.” She continues also giggling slightly. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that I had feelings for you,” you confess to her, “it was actually Tony and Wanda’s idea for me to go out because we all thought you didn’t like me so they thought it was a good idea to get over you.”

“Well that plan failed,” she says smirking, “I guess you can’t get over me.” 

You look at her and yawn. “No I guess I can’t.” 

At your yawn she glances at the clock. “We better get you to bed, it’s almost the time Steve wakes up for training.” You would like to spend more time with Natasha but you’re too tired to argue so you just nod and follow her as she pulls you up and leads you to your room, holding your hand the whole way. Inside your room she sits on your bed while you change, politely looking away. Once you’re in pyjamas you hold a pair out to her and she looks at you confused. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” You ask her. She eagerly nods, accepting the pyjamas as you open your covers and crawl into bed. As soon as she’s done she turns off the lights and hops in behind you, spooning you. You sigh as you feel her plant a kiss on the back of your head. You can barely keep your eyes open and although you still haven’t talked about exactly what your new relationship with Natasha was yet, you were excited for what was to come. Your last thought before you drifted off to sleep was complete bliss as Natasha kept planting soft kisses on the back of your neck, head and shoulders. 

The next morning you hear a loud pounding at your door. You groan and slowly gain consciousness, smiling as you remember last night and the redhead still cuddling you. Just like yesterday Tony doesn’t bother to wait for you to answer and instead barges straight in. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you spooning and he starts to splutter. You laugh at him with Natasha until he shouts for the other avengers to come. Multiple pairs of footsteps make your way to your bedroom and you see the shocked faces of a few of the other avengers, including Wanda, Steve and Clint. 

“What,” Natasha says speaking up, “can’t a girl cuddle with her girlfriend in peace?” Steve immediately apologizes, ushering everyone out of the room and closing the door. 

You raise your eyebrow. “Girlfriends?”

“I assumed so, if you want.” She responds. 

“I like the sound of that...girlfriend.” You both smile at each other. You definitely did not complete your goal of getting over Natasha and instead fell further in love but you were totally ok with that.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 5

First

Previous

Tim finished up pretty quickly.

After all, all the baby toys seemed to just be different variations of each other. Some crinkle, some make sounds, some squish, some… do nothing at all? Tim had no clue how he used to get by as a kid.

He ended up getting Damian three toys:

A tiny rubber duck. He’s almost completely sure that Marinette would have bought one if Tim hadn’t. At least when he was the one buying it he could opt to get the Darth Vader one (Damian had always been woefully uncultured, this was his one chance to make the kid watch sci-fi without risking getting stabbed).

A plush cow with crinkly ears. He had to hope that this could maybe jog memories of Batcow and, in turn, everything else. Tim had tried to think of something a little more relevant but all he could think of were things related to Batman, to Superboy, to the League of Assassins (did their lives really revolve around vigilante-work that much?)... and, unfortunately, this reality didn’t have merch that he could give the kid.

And a squishy plastic baguette. Because that was all he could think of to get back at Marinette for the duck thing.

When it came to little kid books he hesitated for just a bit before getting the basics -- stuff like animals and the letters and Spot The Dog. He wondered, vaguely, if he’d have to teach the kid numbers since they already used the Arabic numeral system. He got a book on it just in case.

Then he got a couple of books on parenting.

He checked out and then walked back to the sitting area where he was supposed to meet Marinette.

… she was taking forever.

He sighed quietly and skimmed through a book on parenting.

… oops they were supposed to breastfeed until Damian was about two. No clue what to do about that. Maybe the kid was already used to a bottle? He hoped so. He’d watch him more carefully while Marinette was holding him to see. In the meantime, he’d get a bottle and some formula on top of the baby food they’d been getting so far.

Alright so the kid was supposed to learn behaviors and language through observation. Good. That, hopefully, solved that problem. Tim probably would have just given the kid a textbook and said ‘good luck’. Marinette… he didn’t really know what Marinette would have done, but the woman wasn’t a teacher as far as he could tell and asking her to teach the kid properly was a little unfair.

Babies around his age are supposed to speak in something called… protowords? Like… a baby language? Damn, he has a miraculous and it seemingly allows him the power to understand every language but apparently ‘baby-speak’ didn’t count as a language. Tim called bullshit.

He felt a weight settle down on the bench next to him and absently glanced over.

Marinette sent him a slightly tired smile. She was wearing a new, dark red scarf.

He opened his mouth to say something only to have her shake her head and adjust her scarf a little to show him something.

Ah. It looked like Damian had fallen asleep on her shoulder so she’d fashioned the scarf into a makeshift baby sling.

“Could’ve used the stroller,” he whispered, setting his receipt in the book to mark his page.

She snorted. “And risk waking him? He cries every time he wakes up, I’m not dealing with that right now.”

He bit his lip. “You know… this book says he’s supposed to cry for, like, an hour to an hour and a half a day.”

She tipped her head to the side a little. “He’s cried like… three times.”

“Yeah, and he was really easy to shut up. Decidedly not normal.”

They looked back down at Damian, identical frowns on their faces.

“Does it have an explanation for why he’d be like this?” Marinette asked, her voice soft.

Tim hesitated.

“The only reasons I can think of are that he doesn’t think we’d help him if he cried or he thinks crying is something he’d be punished for. Considering how he was raised… it could be either. Or both.”

~

Marinette yawned as she sat back on the hotel bed. She leaned back against Tim, leaving him to bear the weight of both her and Damian.

He, to his credit, barely even blinked. He turned slowly until they were both leaning back against each other.

She tipped her head back to rest on his shoulder.

She could fall asleep like this, she thought. Propped against Tim. Damian, in her arms, watching an episode of something called True and the Rainbow Kingdom… it was nice.

Or, at least, it would be if Tim could stop that infernal tapping.

“Ugh, could you stop that? Some people actually sleep.”

He gave a tiny puff of laughter that acknowledged that he heard her but, alas, he continued typing.

She groaned a little and reached a hand behind herself to give him a tiny bap to his side.

“Hm. This may shock you, but hitting me really hasn’t helped your case.”

She huffed and twisted around to try and see over his shoulder. She’d given up on sleeping, anyway.

“What are you even doing?”

He shrugged just slightly. “Trying to figure out what to do about money.”

She nodded slowly, looking over his shoulder as he scrolled through jobs they could do with zero experience or degrees. That could sustain a family of three and pay for the daycare they would have to take Damian to. The options... weren’t great.

Damian tugged on her shirt for her attention and she looked down as he pointed at his screen with a bright smile. There was a black cat on the screen. She didn’t really know what he wanted until he kept saying ‘ma’ over and over. She nodded and said ‘cat’ in both Arabic and English, which seemed to sate him as he went back to watching… the giant green yeti monster stealing a basket of candy? What the fuck was even going on on this show? Were kids’ shows like this in her own world, too? Or was this one’s shows just especially weird?

A thought occurred to her and she looked back over at Tim.

“You exist in this world, right?”

He nodded absently and opened a tab that, despite its claim that it was an entry level job, apparently required two years of experience and a degree. He closed it quickly.

“Why don't we just mooch off of the other you?”

Tim sighed. “Because that’s illegal?”

“You’re a vigilante. I don’t think that ‘borrowing’ money from your alternate self is where you should draw the line on illegal activities.”

“I draw the line when it harms innocent people.”

She laughed at that. “He’s rich. It’s not like he’s going to miss it. Think of it as… giving the money to people who need it.”

“You’re a regular robin hood,” Tim said sarcastically.

“I know. I’m so kind,” she agreed, grinning.

There were a few moments of silence.

Then, finally, he shook his head. “Even if we could somehow do that -- which I can’t guarantee because I’m not completely sure I could guess my passwords -- the fact that we’re in Texas… he’d notice.”

She shrugged. “Then let’s move back to Gotham.”

He blinked and finally looked up from the computer. “What?”

“We don’t have much of a life here, really, so why not move?”

He considered this for a while before sighing and flopping back on the bed. “Let me see if I can even get into the account. There’s nothing to say that I even have the same social security number here...”

She nodded her understanding and laid back next to him. Damian whined a little at the sudden displacement but just ran a hand up and down his back absently until he was watching his show again, completely silent as he stared at the screen. Now the main girl was reaching into her bag for a weird orb of light that was, apparently, sentient. Was this the Dora of their world? God help their children.

Speaking of helping their children...

She picked up a parenting book to read while Tim tried to guess his otherworldly counterpart’s passwords.

~

Tim managed to get in.

He rested his head in his hands, cursing quietly.

She glanced over and smiled at his slightly flushed face.

“What was the password?”

He grumbled under his breath.

This only seemed to encourage her more because she started nudging his shoulder, the soft smile morphing into a cheeky grin.

He sighed and took a moment to gather himself before looking over at her. “It’s… ‘<3Richard<3graysons<3little<3brother<3’.”

“... I don’t get it.”

“Good. So you can’t tease me about it,” he said, sticking his tongue out at her.

She scoffed. “That’s not fair.”

“Totally is.”

He set the computer down beside himself and stretched his achy old bones. He’d had a baby for approximately two days now and he could already feel the bad back setting in. Tomorrow he would have gray hair.

“I’m going to look it up if you don’t tell me.”

“... he’s a celebrity,” Tim said quietly.

Her grin wavered back towards that genuine smile for just a second before spreading into an even wider grin. She reached out and pinched his cheeks. “Awwww, Tim, that’s so cute --!”

“Shut up,” he complained, batting her hands away.

She snickered. “No. I’m going to write that password on your tombstone.”

“You’re assuming I’m going to die first.”

“I have an extended lifespan. You’re only going to have that for another fifteen years. After that? Unless I’m really stupid you’re gonna die first.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to find out how to be immortal now. Purely to spite you.”

She snorted. “Okay. Good luck with that.”

“Thank you.”

With that, he pushed himself up with a groan. “I’m going to get him ready for bed.”

She nodded her understanding and continued with her reading.

Damian whined a little when Tim tried to take him away from where he had curled up next to Marinette but that seemed to be more because he was tired and cranky than genuine distress.

Tim was the one to bathe him. It wasn’t a bubble bath, he wasn’t eager to repeat the previous night’s mistakes, but he did give Damian the rubber duck. This seemed to work for all of them, since Damian now allowed them to take him out of the bath as long as he got to bring his duck.

Marinette grinned when she looked over at where Damian was chewing on his rubber duck as Tim struggled to click the annoyingly difficult buttons of the onesie into place.

“Told you he would love it.”

“We both know that wasn’t why you wanted to get it.”

“And we both know you didn’t get that squishy bread-thing just because you thought he would like it, either.”

He smiled. “Maaaaaybe.”

The onesie finally allowed itself to be buttoned and Tim picked Damian up so he could get into bed.

Marinette frowned. “This book says we shouldn’t let him sleep with us every night. Says it creates a bad habit that’s hard to break.”

Tim raised an eyebrow at her but, reluctantly, carried the kid over to the crib so they could sleep separately.

“Fine. But I’m going to sleep before him so I don’t stress out all night.”

She snickered. “Fine. Fine.”

He climbed into bed, set a pillow between them, and promptly dozed off before he could get woken up by Damian whimpering through the night.

… Tim woke up a few hours later -- his body wasn’t quite used to sleeping through nights just yet -- to find that Marinette had brought the kid into bed with them again.

He smiled a little and moved the pillow out from between them. Even if Damian was currently too trapped in Marinette’s arms to even reach it, it was best to make sure it couldn’t happen.

Damian whimpered a little in his sleep again and Tim tipped his head to the side. He reached over and gently combed his fingers through the fuzzy little tufts of hair that the kid had so far. Damian relaxed.

Tim sighed and shifted in the bed until he was closer to Damian, then maneuvered through Marinette’s mess of limbs to press a tiny kiss to the top of his head. The baby smiled in his sleep and, though the kid couldn’t see it, he returned the smile. He rested an arm around the kid as well in hopes that it would keep the kid feeling safe before allowing himself to drift off.

~~~~~

Next

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

[ronnie-azumane]

Petty

Oikawa x Pregnant Reader

Heyo! Since there are almost no pregnant reader haikyuu fics to feed my baby fever, I’m here writing this self indulgent piece. For my first one, I decided to write Oikawa x Reader, because I feel like he fits the story best (which by the way, is inspired by the events that went down when my sister was born). So yeah, I hope y’all enjoy! If you want more, my asks are open! I’m always open to feeding into both my and other’s baby fever.

Pairing: Toru Oikawa x pregnant reader

Warnings: Pregnancy; birth; Cursing; Oikawa being a petty bitch, you know, the usual.

Petty is defined as, “Of little or no importance or consequence,” according to the dictionary. And according to you and all your friends, there is only one person in the world that lives up to that definition.

Your husband, Toru Oikawa.

Ever since you started dating the pretty setter, the littlest things would transform him into the petty setter. And of all times, It had to be today.

Earlier this week

The two of you were cuddling on the couch, watching some Netflix original you both stopped paying attention to a while ago. Toru held his hands over your swollen belly, rubbing occasional circles with his thumb. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, sighing at the comforting warmth. 

“Hey, Toru, can I talk to you for a second?” You raise your head up and ask.

Oikawa hums in reply.

“So the baby’s coming soon, right?” You ask him as he nods along. “Do you think you could try to look presentable for the birth?”

Oikawa narrows his eyes and stares into your eyes, “What do you mean?” he half-asks.

“Like, for example, if I go into labor while you’re at practice, could you like, I dunno, shower? Put something on other than workout clothes?” you say. Oikawa’s glare stays glued on your face.

After a minute of the stare-down, you finally break the silence, “Look, Toru. Last appointment when you showed up all sweaty and gross, It was kinda embarrassing.”

In response, Oikawa scoots from underneath you and sits up on the couch, effectively ending the cuddle session. You wine at the lack of contact.

“You know what, I guess I can do that much,” Oikawa groans. Happily, you stand up, peck his forehead, whisper a quick ‘thank-you,’ and head to the kitchen to scoop you some ice-cream.

Oh how naïve you were to think that it would end there.

Present  

Sleep had been hard to come by tonight. You tossed and turned on your half of the bed as your husband slept soundly next to you (or as soundly he could with you moving so much next to him).

Sighing, you get up to make your way to the bathroom. Maybe a glass of water would help. Ok, it probably won’t, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

After sipping down the water, you stare at your reflection in the mirror. So many friends and family reassured you that you were beautiful, but frankly, you didn’t see it. Maybe it was because they only saw the good parts of you, not the eyebags you covered up with makeup, not the endless layers of stretchmarks that littered your body. Sure, you husband still assures you that you’re beautiful, but that didn’t prevent the insecurities from rising to the surface.

“You know, little one, you’re a lot of trouble sometimes,” you sigh, rubbing your yummy up and down. The baby, in response, gives you a little kick...

…a kick straight to the bladder.

You rush to the toilet to finish your business, sighing in relief as you didn’t make too much of a mess for once. After a moment, a sudden dull pain hit your lower back. This isn’t the first time this happened, you’ve been getting this pain off and on for the past few days. It was just then when it hit.

Those were contractions. You were going into labor.

Quickly, you rush back to the bedroom to wake up Oikawa. Before shaking him awake, you glance at the analog clock sitting on the nightstand. 3:39 am. 

“Toru. Toru, wake up. Now,” You whisper harshly as you shake his lip, sleeping body. He groaned in response and turned away, sliding his head under his pillow.

“Toru. I said now. Get up,” you whisper again, shaking him even harder.

“Five more min-” Toru was interrupted by the sound of water hitting the floor.

“Toru, my water just broke, the baby is coming. Get out of bed, now.” 

Connecting the dots, Oikawa sprang up from bed.

“Ok, get the bag, I’ll be a couple minutes.” Oikawa said as he made his way to the bathroom.

You grab the bag and set it by the door. not knowing what to do until Oikawa got there you paced around the kitchen. As you walked by the counter, another contraction hit, stronger than those previous. You gripped the counter, trying to ground yourself as your body powered through the pain.

After the contraction ended you looked around to see your husband nowhere in sight. You started to wonder what was taking him so long, so you rushed back to the bedroom.

You arrive to the bedroom to find him in the midst of a shower. The steam and the strong sent of Oikawa’s tea tree shampoo filled your nostrils. Most of the time, this would be a calming sensation, but today was not the day.

“Toru, please hurry up,” You whine, sitting back down on the bed.

“I’ll be out in a minute, babe,” Oikawa sings back. For someone who is about to become a father, he seemed awfully calm, you thought.

After much longer than a minute, Oikawa came out of the shower, donning his gray bathrobe and rubbing a towel through his hair. You sigh in relief, but the sigh is cut short as another contraction rocks through your body.

However, to your surprise, Oikawa doesn’t make his way to the closet, but to the sink. He pulls out a razor and shaving cream from the cabinet.

Oh fuck no.

“Toru, what the fuck are you doing?” You ask, your voice strained from the contraction you were pushing through at the moment.

“Shaving.”

“Toru, you and both know you don’t grow facial hair.”

“I have a bit of a stubble coming through, wouldn’t want to look bad for the little one coming,” Toru replied.

It all hit at once.

“Toru, is this about the conversation we had on the couch last week?” You ask.

“What are you talking about? I just want to look my absolute best for Oikawa Jr.” it was, damn that petty bastard.

“Damnit Toru, just hurry up.”

Two contractions later, Toru finished shaving his bare face. He waltzed his way to the closet, causing you to sigh in relief, until he came out holding two different pairs of pants.

“(Y/N), what pants should I wear?” He asks. In his left hand he holds a pair of slacks, in his right, a pair of jeans.

 “Toru, I don’t give a shit as to what you wear, just hurry up so I can birth your spawn”

“Oh really? In that case, I’ll go put on my workout clothes!” Toru chirps as he skips to the closet. You groan in reply.

“Just wear the fucking jeans.” You cry out as yet another contraction rips through your body.

“Anything you say~” He replies, changing into the pair of jeans.

You sit on the bed, waiting as your husband takes his sweet time slipping his jeans on, one pant leg at a time. At this point, the contractions have gotten both longer and more frequent. Everything was progressing smoothly, given the circumstances.

“Toru Oikawa, Hurry the fuck up,” you seethed, watching your dear husband as he walked out of the closet with four different shirts.

“Which shirt should I wear? I was thinking this one, but I’m not too sure,” Oikawa held up a white polo.

“Fuck you,” you cried as another contraction hit.

“I don’t have a shirt that says ‘fuck you,’ do you think the store would have one?”

“Toru, if you don’t hurry the fuck up, I will deliver this baby right here.”

“Fine, I’ll go with the polo. Although you could have just said so,” Oikawa whined. He threw the polo onto the bed and waltzed to the closet to put away the other three. Once he finished putting away the shirts, he put on the polo, grabbed a pair of shoes, and the hospital bag. You thought he was toying with you until you heard the jingle of the car keys in his hand.

XxX

”Hello Mrs. Oikawa, lets take a peak to see how far along you are!” The nurse smiled. Already dressed in a hospital gown, you put your legs in the stirrups to allow the nurse to take a look at your progression. 

Honestly, you just wanted this examination to be over, so you could order an epidural. At this point, the contractions were frequent and painful.

“How does it look?” Your dear husband asked, only for the color to rush out of his face when he looked at the nurse.

“What’s going on?” you question, but the nurse’s face of shock doesn’t ease your nerves in the slightest.

“Well,” the nurse stutters, standing up and taking off her gloves, “everything is fine, you’re just fully dilated, I’m honestly surprised you haven’t started pushing yet.”

“W-what?” you stutter in disbelief.

“It’s baby time!” the nurse smiles as she pages the doctor to come over.

“No epidural?” you ask, afraid of the answer.

“No time!” the nurse exclaims as she readies the equipment needed to deliver and care for the freshly born baby.

Oikawa started to shiver from the death glare you were giving him. The room almost seemed to drop a couple degrees from the ice in your eyes as you stared at him.

“Thank-you for taking your time this morning. I know the baby is going to appreciate your look, Toru,” your eye twitched.

“Look, y/n, I’m so sorr-”

“Save it” you interrupt. The two of you stay there in silence until the doctor comes in.

“Alright Mrs. Oikawa, ready to push?” The doctor asked.

To Oikawa’s surprise, you clutched his hand and readied yourself for the first push.

“Let’s get this over with.”

XxX

You cooed at the little girl in your arms. Her tiny flailing limbs rested against your bare chest, with the flimsy hospital blanket covering the two of you. Oikawa stood at your bedside, doting at his two favorite princesses. He would avidly deny it, but he did shed a couple of tears whilst looking at the small baby girl.

“She’s perfect,” you whispered as you rubbed the sleeping baby’s back softly with your thumb.

“Just like her momma,” Oikawa cooed, ending his sentence with a kiss to your forehead.                 

“Wanna hold her? You haven’t done skin-to-skin yet,” you asked, for him to answer a littler too quick. After all, who could blame him; he was about to hold his baby girl for the first time.

Quickly, he shed his shirt and folded it neatly on the arm of the chair next to the hospital bed. As he prepared himself physically and mentally to hold the baby, you started to sit yourself up, reaching for the robe you had brought.

Gently, Oikawa reached out to pick up the small baby girl. She was just so tiny, about the size (if not smaller) than the volleyballs he’s used to serving across the net. Little hands with little fingers, all with little fingernails and fingerprints. He laid her on his chest, to which she snoozed away.

“y/n, she’s just so perfect,” Oikawa cried. He held one of her tiny hands between his thumb and pointer finger to examine, to which she instinctively squeezed his thumb. At that moment was when his heart melted.

“Well, I’m glad you like her,” you yawned, lying back down to catch up on some sleep. 

Oikawa’s hands have migrated from the baby’s hand to the back of her head, rubbing his thumb over her forehead. Everything was perfect. Everything was peaceful.

“Toru?” you called out for groggily.

“Yes?”

“I’m still mad at you,” you said as you drifted off to sleep. Oikawa sighed. Any punishment was worth being able to hold his little princess in his arms.

[iconic-ponytail]

there's always money in the banana stand

riverdale promptathon week 3: yellow + business

Even as the sun sets, even as the breeze blows, the hell furnace of July in Riverdale burns on. It’s triply as sweltering inside the tiny booth running three freezers, offloading heat to sustain the frozen merchandise inside. “How can it be so hot in there when we are supposed to be selling frozen bananas?” JB complains, at least twice a week.

She’s twelve. Complaint is her new first language. She complains about being left in Riverdale while Gladys went back to Toledo. She complains about living in a trailer park that usually does not have warm water. She complains about their father being imprisoned for covering up a gruesome murder. But most of all, she complains about working in the banana stand.

Child labor laws aside, Jughead can’t blame her for that one. He hates the damn banana stand, but it’s their best shot.

Gladys’ monthly check covers rent and utilities for the trailer. Everything else is on him, now. The idiot eighteen year old who decided to petition the court to be his sister’s legal guardian. Well, and his idiot mom who signed off on it. So he needs money, and the Jones family has never been particularly flush with cash, just trampled over by FP’s failed “business opportunities.”

Enter: the banana stand.

It’s not the fastest revenue stream, Jughead finds. But it’s got potential.

Initially, Dilton doesn’t let him sell during the Twilight Drive-In’s concession stand hours. Before or after the movie, sure, but no overlap. “I’m not worried about competition, Jones. It’s just too humiliating for me to watch you sweat through that horrible yellow polo you call ‘branding.’”

But when customers asked him more than twice a night when the banana stand would be open, Dilton caved.

It’s not like being open during the screening hours is a whole lot more preferable. He only just transferred from Southside to Riverdale High last spring; now he’s the rising senior who hands out phallic symbols from inside a giant phallic symbol. Not exactly a boon to his popularity.

Still, recently the money is enough to pay the internet bill and keep JB fed for dinner when she can’t go to the summer breakfast and lunch program at the local park district. It’s still not enough for him to eat particularly well, and the smell of hot dogs and slurp of his classmates’ slushies makes the heat feel like a minor inconvenience.

He eyes the tip jar, willing himself to wait on rampaging the concession stand until the beginning of the film roar dies down. It’s a double feature tonight, which means maybe he can score enough cash to cover those damn college application fees his counselor will start hounding him about week one of school.

Then he sees her—Betty Cooper. She’s laughing, watching Archie Andrews try to catch popcorn in his mouth, tossed by his paramour, Veronica Lodge. She pauses to sip from her slushie straw, her lips—which he’s watched argue against homophobic and racist comments in their advanced lit class, or pressed to the cheek of her other best friend, Kevin Keller. Which he’s imagined, doing slightly less savory things, though the mere thought of said imagining has his heart pounding wildly.

(Jughead’s been eating way too many fucking bananas. Someone needs to check his potassium levels.)

His absolutely pathetic gaze, once available three times a day in their shared classes where Jughead has still not managed to exert any confidence whatsoever regarding speech, eye contact, or general acknowledgement of Betty Cooper’s existence other than whatever drooling may or may not be happening, all of which he finds he has no control over… is all interrupted by the absolute polar opposite of Betty Cooper. Hiram Lodge zooms up to the banana stand on his segway, angling to a stop just before taking out the stand’s foundation.

“Still getting a hang of that, Mayor Lodge?”

Hiram grimaces. “Just checking that you’ve renewed your business permit, Jones.”

They do this once a week. It’s still the same permit.

“You know,” Hiram starts as Jughead rustles for the paperwork to make him go the fuck away, “I could find you an arrangement with a better banana supplier. For a discount. If you’re interested.”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “I’m not interested in your GMO, black market bananas, Hiram.”

Hiram gives him a pointed look. Jughead rolls his eyes even harder. “Mayor Lodge.” He proffers the papers, Hiram waves them away. “I’ll take one chocolate peanut butter dip. With peanuts.”

Jughead kisses his teeth. “That will be $3.50.”

Hiram’s whole face goes serpentine. “Not between business partners, Jones. Put it on my tab.”

Jughead grits his teeth, handing the finished banana so aggressively he hopes that the chocolate splatters and stains Hiram’s $500 tie. It is only slightly worth it to watch Hiram struggle with navigating the segway one-handed, frozen banana in the other.

He muffles a chuckle before realizing he’s used the dead end of the chopped peanut topping, and exits the stand to update the order board hanging on the outside. It’s mostly an excuse to feel a ten degree drop in temperature, a sweet relief he might be able to extend by grabbing a hot dog before the intermission rush.

He’s crossing off peanuts from the topping list and spinning around when he hears a shriek and a sudden, cold slosh across his chest. The yellow polo drips with artificial blue slushie, but Jughead swallows his fucking hell when he sees that the shriek, gaping stare of horror, and stumble in question all belong to his very own blonde kryptonite.

“Oh my god. Oh my GOD, jesus, shit, I’m so sorry!”

Jughead is frozen while Betty grabs about half his napkin dispenser and starts pawing at his shirt in a vain attempt to right the giant sticky blue mess all over his chest.

Finally, Jughead swallows the golf ball in his throat and chokes out. “Honestly, it’s fine. That stand is a sauna. I needed that.”

Betty stops, both her blotting and her stream of apologizing (which includes a fair bit of cursing, and he is a little revolted with himself by how much this turns him on).

“It’s going to get very sticky, soon. Maybe I should buy a bottle of cold water?”

Jughead can’t help himself. “Oh, impromptu yellow t-shirt contest?”

Betty grins.

I did that.

“Do you have any employees who could bring you another shirt?”

Jughead shakes his head. “Just my sister. She’s playing video games at home. There’s no earthly way she’ll bring me a spare.”

Betty cocks her head. “I had a feeling you were more than the silent back row kind of guy.”

The fact that Betty Cooper has, at any point, considered what kind of guy he is triggers full-on nervous blathering. “I’m usually very tired at school. I have this little sister—but I’m kind of um, her guardian. So I’m doing this stupid banana stand thing because it’s like one of the three assets to our entire family name I guess? Anyway, it’s hard to engage with Haggly’s basic discussion questions at eight in the morning when you spent the whole night dreaming about wholesale banana margins.”

He’s essentially vomiting words, but Betty is still smiling.

“Anyway, I should crawl back into my fruit-shaped purgatory and let you go back to your friends.”

She’s biting her lip, hedging. “Honestly, they’re probably using the alone time to make out in the car, and I’d rather let them get all their sexual tension out so that I don’t have to feel it radiating off of them for the whole second half of the double feature.”

Jughead laughs and tamps down the impulse to offer her a frozen banana, because he cannot possibly say something like that without making it sound sexual.

“What are frozen banana profit margins like, anyway?” Betty asks, either genuinely interested or legitimately flirting with him. Jughead finds both potentials baffling.

Jughead hesitates, then ducks inside the stand, pulling out his spiral bound notebook. “I’m still kind of figuring it out. All my records are in here.”

Betty sidles up to the stand, taking up the whole window. They’re both leaning over the scribbled line items on college ruled paper; he can smell her shampoo. She takes the notebook, scanning thoroughly.

“Do you have a pencil?”

He hands her one and observes her going to work, writing out some algebraic formula and calculating quickly in her head. There is a calculator within his reach, but he thinks handing it to her might come off as an insult. (Jughead wouldn’t know; he assumes Betty is in an advanced math class. Jughead is not.)

After a few minutes of watching her devoted focus, thinking about her hands touching his pencil, thinking about her hands wrapped around his hand, or his—

“I don’t know how to tell this to you, Jug.”

The shortening of his name stops his heart for a jolt, and his response is embarrassingly delayed. “What is it?”

Betty winces but smiles through it, a combination she’s surely learned to use when delivering bad news. It’s well earned, it really does soften the blow.

“There’s no money in the banana stand. At least, not with these margins.”

Jughead finds himself less than devastated by this news, mostly because it makes a hell of a lot of sense. The messenger doesn’t hurt, either.

“But,” she interrupts. “I don’t know if you’ve nailed down your course load for senior year. But I’m taking AP Econ? This could be, um, a good project. Like, if you want to take the class. Or even if you don’t. Not that you’re like a project or… whatever. I’m just saying we could figure it out. Make lemonade out of… bananas.”

Betty Cooper is extremely cute when she stammers.

Jughead doesn’t know what to do, so he gives her an easy out. “I can’t like, hire you, if that wasn’t obvious by the whole… deficit spending or whatever the whole negative circled number at the bottom of the page really means.”

She flushes. “No, that would be highway robbery. I just thought there might be an… opportunity. For um, us. I mean, for you and I. I mean—” she clears her throat, as if it’s closing up. “An academic opportunity. Or, in your case, professional. Well, a betterment of your livelihood. Okay, um, shit, just… I should go!”

She turns away, her face the deepest scarlet he’s ever seen.

“Betty, wait.”

She pivots back, eyes down at the ground.

“How about I buy you a new slushie and you come back into the booth. Tell me everything I’m doing wrong for the rest of the night.”

Betty looks up, biting the corner of her smile. “Sounds like a deal.”

They shake on it.

[kilodalton]

How I went from writing semi-decent X-rated fanfic to writing for $$$

I was thinking about making this post for a while, but held off bc 1) I didn't want to get hate, and 2) procrastination ftw.

Also 3) I couldn't think of a good title for this post (I can never think of good fanfic titles either so hey at least I'm consistent lol), and while the one I chose does sound like a crappy ad, lol please bear with me.

First the obligatory About Me: I started writing fanfic about 10 years ago when I was a new mom and had just started my pharmacy degree (in the US, it's a doctorate and a lot of work). I was pretty miserable at that point in my life and fanfic was a wonderful outlet for me. After I graduated, I unfortunately let a lot of fanfic things slide (sorry about the half-finished-years-old fics, I *will* get to them I promise lol) as I completed postgrad training, had another kid, and started my career.

It was around that point that I realized that yes, I did have a well-paying career but 1) HELLO STUDENT LOANS and 2) kids are $$$$ and 3) wtf I just wanted more money OK is that a crime.

So I started reading a bit about income/money/stuff and they recommended a few things. The main points were that to increase your cash, you can either decrease your expenses or increase your income. I mean DUH, but it actually helped seeing such an obvious statement in black and white.

I had already reduced my expenses and felt like reducing them more would compromise my standard of living. So making more money it was! I knew my job wouldn't provide it, so I was looking for other opportunities.

I had heard about a couple of different freelancing websites, and the one that stuck with me was UpWork. I decided to test it out, maybe I would be qualified for something there.

I found A LOT of writing jobs listed. Like A LOT. In so many different niches it boggled the mind. I settled on medical writing for obvious reasons, but they all wanted "real" writing experience which I didn't have (lol somehow I don't think fanfic pr0n counts).

Anyway, so here's the meat of this post. I made my OWN writing experience. Mainly by writing a few articles on Medium (which is free to post on), and one unpaid oped for a medical website that had been advertising for unpaid writers. I knew I wanted PAID writing gigs at this point, so my unpaid articles on Medium etc were on similar topics to the ones I knew I wanted to get paid to do.

I also took a little time to learn about SEO - search engine oriented - writing. Basically it helps your writing be found in a google search, which a lot of websites obviously want.

At that point, when I applied for writing jobs, I could tick a few different boxes: YES I had writing experience (I could attach links to my Medium articles in my applications) and YES I was familiar with SEO writing.

The main stumbling block was how much to charge. That one is tricky and highly variable. The nice thing on Upwork is that the client often has a budget, so you can look at it and decide "yes that is OK" or "OH HELL NO LMAO." It's up to you. I certainly charge some clients much more than others (like 3x as much) simply bc I know they are willing to pay it. And I certainly undercharge others I have a soft spot for (one of my clients is a Navy veteran, and I support the military, so I gave him a steep discount).

Anyway. Fast forward almost 2 years. I have had about ~30 different clients, and regularly still work with about 10 of them. I have weekly contracts with 6 different clients, and write/review/edit around 20 articles a week. I do it in my spare time, after work or on weekends, but it has increased my income by about 30%.

I have even shut off my Upwork visibility at this time, because I have gotten to the amazing point where I keep getting requests and have no time to handle more articles lol.

My clients are all in the medical field because that's my specialty, but they range from personal blogs, to vitamin companies, to an addiction rehab center, to a chiropractor's office, to support websites for various chronic diseases.

Anyway. I started off writing fanfic, and eventually managed to turn my writing into something quite profitable. I know a lot of people are budding writers here so wanted to share my story for inspiration/in case anyone wants a similar path. That is all.

Feel free to send an ask if you have questions!

[glimmerglanger]

glimmer do you think you’d ever write an obikin smut prompt again? I’ve been nervous about asking but this one wouldn’t leave my head: Obi-Wan and Anakin at a fancy party, either in the aftermath of a fight, or seeing each other for the first time in a while, going nuts with frustration/longing and finally having frantic reunion/make-up sex in a library or coatroom somewhere while the party rages on around them. Maybe Anakin has to put his hand on Obi-Wan’s mouth to keep him quiet...

Alright, so, I had a devil of a time trying to make this prompt work in canon, and then realized, well, why not pick an AU where I could better see it happening? Obi-Wan!Prime may perhaps not be down with an assignation during an important diplomatic event. Emperor Obi-Wan from the mirror!au, though? Oh, he could be persuaded. AND SO HE HAS BEEN.

Technically, reading “Through a Glass, Darkly” probably would make this make more sense, since this takes place AFTER the end of that fic. But I don’t think it’s necessary. This is a “both Obi-Wan and Anakin were raised as dark-siders because ALL the Jedi are dark-siders” au, wherein Anakin has managed to put Obi-Wan on the throne.

This fic is NOT SAFE FOR WIZARDS. SPICY. BE YE SO WARNED.

(Also, OP, I want you to know that I only realized today that you meant a fight between the BOYS and not, say, a battle with the Seppies. So that’s where my head has been the last few months.)

~~~~~

Anakin spotted Obi-Wan first in a knot of Senators, the politicians clustered all around him like noisily squawking birds. They were a background consideration, one Anakin dismissed out of hand as he stepped fully into the ballroom.

He’d never cared much for such...galas. He’d been forced to attend many, when Palpatine ruled as Emperor. Palpatine had enjoyed showing him off, whispering into Anakin’s ear as the Senators slowly mingled around, the sour tang of their ambition mingling with the sharper edge of their fear through the Force.

Anakin enjoyed the events slightly more, these days, with Obi-Wan in his rightful place.

He looked better in the fine robes of office than Palpatine ever had. He was wearing robes all in black and gold, tailored to accentuate his shoulders and the trimness of his waist, all the lines of the fabric drawing attention to the lightsaber hanging from his belt.

He was the best thing Anakin had seen in weeks, since he’d - with a certain degree of vicious delight - taken the army to settle some….uprisings from the long defeated Hutts. It was good to remind them of their place, every now and then.

But, oh, Anakin had ached with missing Obi-Wan the entire time he was away. He understood, perfectly well, that Obi-Wan could not go galavanting around the galaxy, the way he once had. He was Emperor, now. His place was on Coruscant, protected and safe.

Obi-Wan turned as Anakin moved through the crowd, single-minded, ignoring the Senators who tried to catch his attention. None of them mattered. Every one of them could have dropped dead, as far as he was concerned.

Anakin’s breath caught, momentarily, as Obi-Wan finally faced him, head tilting to the side, golden eyes catching the lights around the room. He’d worn his hair loose, all in a spill down over his shoulder, held back from his face by the crown high on his brow. 

There was one foolish Senator directly between them, still chattering away inanely, and Anakin put a hand on the man, pushing him to the side, ignoring the sound he made.

Obi-Wan pulled a little face at the action, but any ire washed away almost immediately, when Anakin went to one knee, snagging one of Obi-Wan’s hands and pulling it close, brushing a kiss across his soft, warm skin. “High General,” Obi-Wan said, warm and full of promise, looking down at him, “you are returned.”

“I am,” Anakin said, flowing back to his feet, sliding his hand up Obi-Wan’s arm, over his shoulder, to curve against his neck. He murmured, ignoring the stares, “As I promised,” and leaned down, taking the kiss he’d more than earned in his time away.

The Senators, proving they were not complete fools, found other places to be. 

Obi-Wan’s mouth curved into a warm smile when Anakin drew back, his eyes half-shut as though he savored still the kiss. “I missed you,” Anakin murmured, brushing his nose against Obi-Wan’s cheek, enjoying the hitch of his breath, the clean smell of his skin.

Anakin knew, perfectly well, that he smelled not so finely. He’d come directly from the shuttle, still battered a bit from the last battle, impatient to see Obi-Wan, to put hands on him and pull him close.

“And I you,” Obi-Wan told him, and made a thick, pleased sound when Anakin took his hand and turned, moving through the crowd. He knew the palace well enough, recalled little nooks and rooms from so many past galas. 

Some days, he wanted to have Obi-Wan in front of the entire Senate, in front of the whole galaxy, so they knew exactly how he felt, what he wanted, what they risked if they spoke ill of Obi-Wan or tried to harm him in any way.

More often, though, he wanted Obi-Wan for his own, wanted no others to see the way he looked so soft and sweet when Anakin kissed or touched him. Obi-Wan wanted the galaxy to be taken care of. He wanted people to be treated well, to live...fulfilling lives, Anakin supposed.

Anakin cared little for any of that.

He wanted Obi-Wan, pulling him through one of the fine, arched doors onto a balcony overlooking so much of Coruscant and, with a nudge of the Force, shutting the door behind them definitively.

The air on the balcony was cool and refreshing. Anakin was sure the lights below were luminous and lovely.

He wasn’t paying attention to them. It was so much better to crowd Obi-Wan against the closest wall, to brace a hand by Obi-Wan’s head and lean down far enough to kiss him properly, the way he deserved to be kissed.

“Ah,” Obi-Wan gasped, clever hands busy between them, all his want curling around Anakin, clear as a physical touch. 

“I missed you,” Anakin told him, nipping at his smooth jaw, back towards his throat. “I missed you so fucking much, I--”

He grew too impatient for words. They’d never been his strong suit, anyway. He curled his fingers into Obi-Wan’s hair, kissed him again, hard, and assisted with shoving fabric out of the way.

It was a relief, something pure and right, to get his hand around Obi-Wan’s cock, freeing him from silken and velvet fabrics. Anakin could take them both in hand if he tried, the leather of his glove smooth and cool, Obi-Wan’s skin against his, Obi-Wan’s breath punching out against his mouth, the entire rest of the world going away, and--

And, when this kriffing party ended, Anakin was going to carry Obi-Wan off and arrange for a more fitting reunion. For the moment, he brought them both off, fast and impatient. The hot spill of Obi-Wan’s come across his fingers - his cock - was enough to take the edge off, to pull Anakin over into his own release.

They slumped against each other for a moment, breathing the same air, and then Obi-Wan hummed and said, “Oh, dear one, it’s so good to have you back.”

Anakin felt his mouth curve up, sweet delight racing up his spine. It was worth it, all of it, the fighting and death and blood, to hear those words. Worth it to have Obi-Wan grip his hand and lift it, to frown over the mess on his glove and to grouse, softly, “This mess won’t do, though.”

Anakin watched him, cock twitching again, as he licked across the leather, battered by battle and covered with their mingled come and--

Obi-Wan kept eye contact the entire time, and smiled, when he finished, leaning forward to kiss Anakin, mouth tasting of them.

“Come on, then,” Obi-Wan said, breezy, “shall we make our goodbyes?”

[h0tch-r0cket]

Infatuation (18+) {a.h.} : chapter 7

summary: you needed a job. aaron hotchner needed a babysitter. the rest was inevitable.

word count: 4.2K

warnings: explicit language, mentions of cigarettes 

table of contents 

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

You would have been lying to yourself if you tried to deny the fact that for the rest of the night and into the early morning you had the biggest grin on your face, thinking about going to Aaron's lecture the next day.

Aaron Hotchner's lecture.

The professor Aaron Hotchner's lecture.

Your boss, Aaron Hotchner's lecture.

You weren't sure what you were expecting when he called out your name the night prior as you were about to pull away from his house. You figured maybe he was going to tell you something with Jack, maybe tell you that he was changing your pay day, or say something else that came into his head about the book. You most definitely  weren't expecting him to invite you to his lecture and for the thought of attending to keep you up in anticipation for the majority of the night.

As you got ready for Aaron to come pick you up, your stomach was doing somersaults in anticipation. You wished that Esmé was around to calm your nerves but since she was doing an overnight at the ER again, you probably wouldn't see her until the next day when she was all rested up.

After going through what felt like a million different outfits, you settled on wearing a tan blazer with a white undershirt and a pair of black slacks. You figured since you were going to the university with Aaron that you had to have some degree of a professional looking outfit on.

You sat on the edge of your bed, putting on a pair of heels when you heard your phone vibrate on your nightstand. You grabbed it quickly and felt your nerves going haywire when you realized that all of this was actually happening. That Aaron did actually invite you to watch his lecture and offer to drive you.

You glanced at the message that you received from him and the smile that refused to leave your face only grew a bit wider at his words.

                                    Aaron Hotchner

-Good morning, Y/N. Should be over to your place in about 10 minutes.

With nimble fingers, you responded back to him, letting him know that you would be all set to go when he got there.

You no sooner finished getting ready, doing your hair and putting on a little bit of makeup,  when you heard the familiar sound of his car alarm go off.

The adrenaline rushed through your veins as you started to gather your things. You took a quick glance around your apartment to make sure you weren't missing anything when firm knocks sounded on your door.

Here we go, you thought as you unlocked the door to reveal Aaron waiting patiently for you.

He was wearing a black button up and pants to match, your eyes quickly glancing to where he had the top button of the shirt undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows exposing his slightly toned arms. You were almost positive the man couldn't have gotten anymore attractive to you but yet here he was in the entrance of your apartment, proving you wrong.

A small smile fell across his lips as he, too, was taking a moment to look at you. He didn't know how each time he saw you, you looked effortlessly stunning.

"Morning," he said, breaking the bit of silence that was between the two of you.

"How are you?" you asked as you stepped outside your apartment, turning around to lock up.

"I'm doing alright." He stood behind you as you locked the door, his presence and close proximity sending a shiver down your body. When you turned back in his direction, his eyes were already searching for yours. "Ready to go?"

You nodded your head and followed behind him as he led you to his car. He opened the passenger door for you and gestured for you to get in. You said a quiet thank you, adjusting yourself in the seat as he shut the door and went around the front of the car to the drivers side.

His car had the faintest smell of the lingering cigarettes that was overpowered by his cologne when he got into it. He settled in his seat, turning the radio on low. He turned his head towards you and glanced at his watch. "I have some time to kill before I have to be in my first class. Do you want to go grab a cup of coffee?"

"That would be great. I could definitely use some," you said with a smile. He nodded his head and started the car.

He turned his head to back out of the parking spot, placing one of his hands on the back of your seat to get some leverage. You couldn't help but watch him, completely entranced with the way that his arm was a bit flexed from the grip of your seat, the veins in his arms becoming more prominent.

"I know a good place on the way to my job. I think you'll like it," he told you, pulling you out of your daze.

You could only muster a small sounds good as he began to drive to the coffee shop, still thinking about the way he gripped onto your seat.

It definitely should not have turned you on as much as it did but there you were at nearly 8 in morning, already mesmerized by Aaron Hotchner.

As Aaron drove, the gentle hum of the radio filled the air.

"So what's your lecture on today?" you asked, trying to see whether or not you knew what Aaron was going to be discussing for the day.

"I was going to talk about Pandora's Box, but I think I'm leaning towards talking about Zeus and some of the myths that involve him since there's so many," he explained as he pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop.

"Do you have a favorite myth to teach?" You saw a contemplating look on his face as he thought about as he exited the car. You got out too, waiting for his response, as the two of you walked side by side towards the entrance of the shop.

"I do like teaching about the Minotaur and the Labyrinth," he said as he held the door open for you. "But I don't know if that one is my favorite, you know?"

A woman behind the counter greeted the two of you as you stepped forward to offer. "What can I get for you folks today?" she asked.

"I'll take a black coffee, large," Aaron said.

The woman turned her attention towards you and waited for your order. You ordered your usual coffee blend and went to grab your wallet from your purse.

Aaron's hand stopped yours, pushing down the wallet back into your purse. "I got it." He handed the woman the money for the two coffees before you could even protest.

"Thank you but you didn't have to do that," you said as you stood in the area to wait for your drinks.

Aaron stood next to you, your arms brushing together. "I know. I wanted to," he said with a smirk as he looked down at you.

You could have melted from the way he looked at you. Like you were the only person in the room. The only person that he cared about at that moment.

The woman called out Aaron's name and he grabbed the drinks, passing you yours. He took a sip of his coffee as he walked back towards the entrance, opening the door for you yet again as you followed suit.

"So what do you think? Good coffee or what?" Aaron asked as you got back into his car.

It was a pretty damn good cup of coffee. You took a sip and nodded as he started to drive towards the university. "Mhm. Hopefully it'll wake me up a bit," you laughed.

———

"Alright everybody. I hope you all have been keeping up with the readings because as you know, you have your next exam this Friday," Aaron said as he walked in front of the room of students.

You were sitting in the middle of the auditorium, off center from where Aaron was teaching.

Seeing Aaron teach was such a sight to behold, you weren't sure how you would be able to keep your composure. Watching him, completely capturing the attention of the students, the way he talked and presented himself practically screamed dominance in the given situation and the way he was so thorough, lived up to your hopes as to what you thought Aaron was like as a professor.

"So today, I figured we could introduce one of the major players in Greek Mythology," Aaron continued. He grabbed the Expo marker, scribbling down the word Zeus on the whiteboard. He closed the marker and turned his attention back to his students.

You watched as he crossed his arms across his chest, pacing slowly in front of the room. "We've already discussed how Hades is Zeus' brother. But going further into who he is, does anyone have any prior knowledge about him?" Aaron's eyes scanned the crowd, landing on yours for a few seconds, a brief smile showing on his face as he looked at you.

As much as he was trying to keep his head straight and proceed with the lesson, he found that hard to do with you sitting in the crowd. He couldn't help but look over in your direction, watching your face light up with excitement as he spoke. He tried not to look too long because he knew that he would have gotten stuck in a daze and completely lost his train of thought during the lecture.

A small part of him felt nervous to have you there. It wasn't because of the clear knowledge you had of the subject matter, but because of the idea that he didn't want to mess anything up. He was silently praying that the lecture went off without a hitch and that when he finally spoke to you about it afterwards that you actually enjoyed your time there and he didn't bore you half to death.

"He's, like, the god of the sky or something like that," a student answered his question. Aaron nodded and turned to the whiteboard again, writing down what the student said.

"Very good, Mr. McMillan. Glad to see we're actually paying attention to the content today," he said with a small smile as he leaned against the podium next to the board. He clasped his hands together on top of the podium as he was waiting for someone else to chime in with their thoughts.

"Zeus is a man-whore," a student from the back of the auditorium called out confidently.

Aaron laughed lightly, his eyes wide at the response of his student. "I mean, I guess that is one way to put it," he agreed. "It is true. Zeus did in fact have many lovers and many children. Even though he was married to Hera, he had many affairs. That's actually what we're going to talk about today. Or at least one of his many known affairs."

You sat in your seat, almost in awe at the passion you saw radiating from Aaron as he spoke. The way he talked about the subject matter, clearly emphasizing what was important, and even taking the time to make sure his students were able to take thorough notes.

But the pesky little thing you had for Aaron was acting up, causing you to focus on different details rather than the lecture.

You focused in on the way the black button up was snug against his torso, making you wonder what he was hiding underneath it. As he continued to speak, your eyes became fixated on his arms as they flexed when he gestured with them through his speaking. Even as he was writing things down on the whiteboard, you focused on his grip of the marker, like he was holding onto it as a lifeline.

He, in fact, was gripping the marker with a firm grasp because of his nerves. He wasn't sure if he was just in his head because of the added pressure, but he was almost positive that almost every time he looked at you, you were focusing on some part of him as he taught. He was hoping that he wasn't imagining it. He was hoping that if you were looking at him like the way he thought, that you were going through the same conflict that he was.

That you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

"The first tale of Zeus we'll discuss is of Zeus and Io.  Io was a mortal woman, the princess of Argos. Zeus fell in love with her and covered the Earth with clouds as a way to try to hide his relationship from Hera," Aaron explained. He propped himself up on the edge of his desk, giving the students a moment to catch up on their notes.

"Of course, Hera was a smart woman. Not to mention a jealous woman. She knew what Zeus was up to. So she came down from Mount Olympus to try to catch Zeus cheating. However, Zeus was deceptive. Anyone have any ideas as to what he may have done?" He glanced around the room again, as did you, trying to see if anyone had some sort of guess.

"Ms. Y/L/N. You're pretty well-versed in mythology aren't you? Care to tell the class what happened?" Aaron said, a smirk growing across his face as he looked at you. He peered over the heads of his students from where he was sitting atop of his desk to maintain his gaze.

You thought you were hearing things when he called out your last name. But when you saw he was looking at you, you realized quickly that he actually was testing you.

Almost like how you did with him when the two of you discussed the book only the night prior.

You sat up straighter in your seat, feeling everyone's eyes landing on you as they awaited your answer.

"Well, Professor Hotchner," you started, hoping that the way you said his name would have an effect on him, the way it rolled off your tongue so effortlessly with charm. You saw Aaron's mouth drop open a quick second as if he were stunned at the way you addressed him, but he cleared his throat, staring at you with furrowed brows as you began to answer. "Zeus turned Io into a white heifer. It was his way of disguising Io so that Hera wouldn't see her. And when Hera wanted the cow as a gift, Zeus had to give it to her so she wouldn't be suspicious."

Aaron nodded his head in approval, yet again impressed by you. He was becoming more and more enamored with you each and every moment that you spent together, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep his feelings to himself. How much longer he could go without your touch, without being able to tell you how he loved your smile, without holding you in his arms at night to be the first thing that he wakes up to.

He was growing tired of listening to the words of the angel on his shoulder.

He was going to tell you all of these things and word them better. But for now, the words that he was able to compose in his head would have to do as he continued on with the lecture.

"Very good. Excellent, Ms. Y/L/N. Zeus knew that he couldn't resist Io. He had to have her. He would do anything in his power to be able to be with her." Aaron hopped off his desk and started to pace around the room again. He stopped in front of the section that you were sitting in, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked up at you. He sent you a small smile and you saw the way that his face softened for a second as he continued to look at you.

"He was completely and utterly infatuated with her," he said, his voice quiet as he continued to look at you. "And he knew it was wrong but he didn't care. For Chrissakes," he said as he threw his hands up in the air as he turned away from you, "The worst part of it all, in my opinion, was that he didn't care what others thought." He chuckled lightly as he walked, shaking his head in disbelief.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as you watched him.

He stood behind his desk and leaned on it, looking down at the scattered papers in front of him. "He didn't care what happened as long as he got to be with Io." He lifted his head and without hesitation, he looked at you again.

You couldn't help but feel the words he was saying ripple through your entire body.

And then all too quickly, the emotions that you tried to push deep down whenever you were with Aaron began to make an appearance.

The excitement and attraction that you felt from Aaron's general presence, now swarming through your entire body as you realized that maybe he felt the same way. You took his words as a silent plea of him admitting his feelings.

But of course, you didn't want to take anything for granted. As you shifted in your seat, you were determined to figure out what the hell just happened and why it felt as though the stars were finally aligned and you could get what you wanted.

And you wanted Aaron Hotchner more than you wanted any man before.

Aaron was never one to completely ignore common sense and succumb to his desires. But in that moment, he dove head first into the situation, hoping that you picked up on his intentions through the subliminal message of the lecture.

He cleared his throat, regaining whatever capacity of a clear head that he had left to wrap up his lecture. "Hera arranged for Argus, the giant, to watch over Io to prevent Zeus from seeing her. Of course, that wouldn't sit well with the god of the sky so he instructed Hermes to go retrieve his beloved from the giant. Hermes was successful in setting Io free but the story goes that Hera sent the mother of all gadflies after her to continuously sting her." Aaron clapped his hands together loudly, grabbing the attention of the few students that seemed to be a bit distracted.

"That's all I have for you guys today. Remember, my office hours are canceled for the day. I'll see you all next class."

The room quickly emptied itself of its students, leaving you and Aaron in the auditorium. You gathered your things, still trying to process and decode whatever it was that just happened in the lecture.

Aaron gathered his papers together in his satchel and glanced up at you as you walked down to his desk. "So, what did you think?" he asked, a hopeful look on his face.

You so desperately wished to ask him if what he said about the myth was about him. If he really felt that way about you. But for the time being, you held your tongue and decided to ask him when you got in the car when you had some proper time to think about what it was that you wanted to say exactly.

"It was really great. I enjoyed it. Well, except the part where you called me out of the crowd," you teased, nudging him in the arm softly as the two of you started to walk back out of the building to his car.

"I think it was only fair. You gave me a test so I figured one question in return makes us about even," he said cockily.

You scoffed as you walked, kicking a pebble at your feet. You watched the pebble bounce on the sidewalk, landing a few feet in front of Aaron's stride. "I gave you time to study," you retorted.

"Mine was a pop quiz then," he laughed. He looked down at the sidewalk, kicking the pebble back in your direction. You felt yourself smile at the gesture, especially since it was a bit of a habit that you picked up from the time that you spent with Jack.

The two of you settled into the car, the buildup of the obvious tension from the day lingering in the air.

You turned to look at Aaron to find him already looking at you.

"Look, Y/N-"

"Look, Aaron-"

The two of you said the words at the same time, a small laugh coming from both of you. Aaron waved his hands towards you as his way of telling you to go first.

"You can go first," you told him with a light laugh. You figured it would give you more time to think of what you wanted to say to him anyway.

"Alright." He exhaled deeply and shifted in the driver's seat to fully look at you. "Y/N, I just wanted to say thank you for coming today. It meant a lot to me that you did." You nodded, a small smile curling up at the edge of your lips. Aaron's eyes darted down to your lips before they returned to yours as he continued to talk. "I also just wanted to tell you that I really appreciate everything that you have done for Jack and I."

He reached his hand forward, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You felt like you were in a haze. His touch was driving you insane. But when he rested his hand on your cheek, rubbing small circles on it with his thumb as his eyes were full of admiration for you, only then did your skin feel like it was being ignited by his touch.

You thought you were imagining things. You thought you were going crazy as the gap between you and Aaron closed, as he brought his head closer to yours while moving your head forward at the same time.

"Y/N, you're something else," he whispered, his face only inches away from yours. "And you deserve the world."

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you felt the inches growing less and less between the two of you. You placed your hand on top of his, wrapping your fingers around his.

"Y/N," he muttered, as his nose brushed against yours while he tilted his head to get to your lips.

You heard your heart pounding in your ears. You couldn't believe that it was happening. This only showed you that he did indeed feel the same way. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Everything was moving in slow motion. You felt as though your lips would never find his.

Only mere inches apart.

Inches.

An inch.

Aaron's phone blared in his pocket, taking over the moment. He let out an aggravated sigh as he pressed his forehead against yours for a moment, his eyes shut in disappointment. "Fuck," he muttered, almost so quietly you weren't positive if that was what he said. He removed his hand from your cheek, sitting back up in his seat as his hands dug in his pocket for his phone. He read the caller ID and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's Jack's school," he said as he held the phone up to his ear. "Aaron Hotchner."

Your brain felt like mush. You almost kissed Aaron and he was the one to initiate it all. You could still feel his hand on your cheek and the adrenaline running through your body as the gap slowly closed between the two of you. You sat back in your seat, pressing your head against the headrest as you only heard incoherent mumbles from Aaron as he spoke on the phone.

You stared blankly out the window, trying to wrap your mind around what the fuck just happened.

Aaron's hand resting on your shoulder pulled you out of your trance as he looked at you with concern. "Y/N? Did you hear what I said? I have to go get Jack from school early. He got sick."

You couldn't speak. Couldn't think. You only managed to nod your head at him. He took his hand off your shoulder, putting the car in drive. "I'll drop you off at home. Don't worry about coming over today. I'll just cancel the rest of my lectures for the day to be with him."

You nodded again as you watched the buildings of the campus speed by your vision as he drove.

You had to talk to him about everything from that day.

From his words at the lecture to the way that he almost fucking kissed you, you weren't even sure where to begin.

All you knew for certain was that you would be thinking about where that kiss would have led you if you weren't interrupted.

------

author's note:

hello hello! another chapter for you all! and i'm not even sorry for how i ended it lol

i hope you're all prepared for the next few...the next one will make things a little...twisted??

see you soon!

-jordyn