#so if you want to play school with them you can keep track of all their schedules!

[thatlesbiancrow]

I was digging in a box of my old monster high stuff to try and find clothes i can put my custom doll in until i get around to making her some myself, and i found this:

One of the little diaries that comes with the dolls!

I brought it upstairs with the clothes i snatched and decided to read it, mainly out of guilt for never doing so when i was little.

I didnt expect to cry. i want to go and find all the ones i had and read them now. it feels silly to cry at something like this but i did! it honestly really reassured me about life and stuff. too much has been going on right now and what it said was just really good for me i guess.

I'm so glad these were given to kids. i wonder how many other people they brought comfort to. i wish i read them when i was younger, but i'm glad i read it now.

[milfgyuu]

Hot Wheels [M] Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader Tags: 15.9k, 90's AU, Co-Workers to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, Smut 18+ Collab: Now That's 90's Summary: There has been something brewing between you and your part-time co-worker (full-time hottie), Kim Mingyu. Endlessly flirting on the clock at Wheelies, making out in the back of the movie theater, rolling around in the sand with a mighty good man...no other 90's dreamboat could ever compare. Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf (consensual) sex, fingering, low-key breast play, making out (in public), hickey talk, Mingyu is hung (obvs), he's also portrayed as 'taller' than the mc in interactions, mild to moderate language use, gyu's roomies are sloshed at the end (unrelated to smut or main characters), that should cover all the bases...

Fridays at the roller rink are always busy but this is the first official skate-night of Summer Time ‘99 and it’s like opening day all over again. The schools let out just a few hours ago, releasing hoards of teenagers with pent-up energy loose on your small town and there is a line out the door waiting to get into Wheelies to jump-start their next few months of freedom.

Thankfully, the owners prepared and bought a whole new stock of skates so when you inevitably have to help out at the rental counter you’ll have enough to go around without having to argue with some sixteen-year-old about not having their size.

For now, you’re on the floor making sure everything is running smoothly, gliding around in circles with your hands in your pockets. It’s not too packed just yet even though you can see the steady stream of kids filtering through the doors after hitting the ticket booth. Mothers are packing up their little ones knowing it’s time to head out before it picks up pace and the exchange in skaters coming on and off the floor keeps things pretty even for a short while. 

As you pass by the DJ booth for the hundredth time this evening, Vernon pauses to make a goofy face at you while he sets up his equipment. He’s probably the one person who enjoys the summer nights the most because he gets to put on light shows and mix tracks to his heart’s content. 

After letting the floor empty a bit more, you come to a stop in front of him for a quick break, crossing your arms and resting them over the top of his carpeted booth. 

“You gonna play something special for me tonight, Nonnie?”

He rolls his eyes but grins all the same. “You ask me that every night.”

Laying your head on your arms, you look up at him with a pout, “And yet, no romantic song dedications to your favorite Wheelies girl,” you pick your head up and bat your eyes at him, “I’m starting to think you want to break up with me.”

“I promise if I want to end our made-up relationship, I’ll tell you like a real man. Besides,” Vernon laughs and tilts his chin up, looking at something behind you, “I think you’ve been seeing other people. Hotter Wheels if you catch my drift.”

“Heh, I think he hates that name,” you turn, catching sight of Mingyu ducking into the locker rooms to change out and stow his bag, most likely coming straight from hockey practice. Vernon is back to messing with things when you turn, humming, “Lets be real. I only like boys who don’t like me, Nonnie, that’s why you’re the one.”

“What if he’s like you and only goes for girls who don’t want him?”

At that you laugh, preparing to depart as the floor begins to steadily fill again. “Well then, he’ll be lonely forever because I am pretty sure everyone wants him.”

“Including you?”

Very stealthily, you flip him the bird.

Vernon just laughs it off and gets back to work as you skate away, toying with the whistle tied around your neck. You can tell he’s about to get started with his new set when the lights dim and the carpeted walls and floors outside of the polished skate floor start to glow. The little whirls and shapes coming to life with a neon purple hue.

You catch the line piling up at the rental booth but thankfully, it looks like they called in a few extra hands tonight to help there and in concessions which means you get to stay on the floor. Rentals isn’t the worst, that would be birthday party hosting, but you also hate concessions so you don’t put up a fuss when you’re asked to help with skates or in the front on the rare occasion one of the sweet old ladies manning the ticket windows is out.

As more people start piling onto the floor you slow your pace and skate backward for a few feet to check out your surroundings and find teenagers everywhere, loud and wildly unaware of their surroundings. They aren’t too awful this early in the night but you’re sure you’ll have to escort someone off the floor before closing time.

You’ll enjoy your leisurely pace for now and it seems Wonwoo is keen to do the same on the opposite side of the crowd. He weaves in and out of skaters bobbing his head to the music. His glasses are sitting lower on his nose than usual and you’re sure he’s broken them again…or his little brother did and he’s waiting for their exact replacement to come in so he can switch them out without his brother noticing and feeling any more guilty. 

He’s only eight but Wonwoo is his very best friend. They come in on Saturdays together, one of Wonwoo’s only days off, and he teaches his brother to skate for an hour or so before he lets him loose in the arcade and they leave with matching ice cream cones in hand. They even have matching shaggy hairstyles. It’s adorable.

In truth, you’re fond of many of your co-workers but Wonwoo is definitely in your top three for that reason alone. You get along really well with any easy-going personality, it's the same with Vernon. They are both just nice, quiet guys and the exact opposite of the giant shadow hanging over your left shoulder. 

Although, you suppose you get along just fine with him as well.

“Quit checking Wonwoo out, you’re breaking my heart.”

Even before he opened his mouth, the distinct cologne he always wore told you Mingyu was finally on the floor, ready to chase you around for the rest of the night like it was his full-time job. He spent more time trying to charm your pants off than doing what he was actually hired to do but he is so damn charming that he somehow gets away with it.

Besides, this is just a part-time gig for him. Might as well enjoy himself while he’s at it.

When you don’t answer right away, he decides to show off his stupidly impressive hockey maneuvers and he swings around in front of you, casually skating backward without bothering to look behind him. He’s big enough that people can’t miss him and they tend to move out of his path pretty quickly. Now that he sees your face, he’s smirking because you don’t even have it in you to hide your smile tonight. “Oh, that’s pretty,” he coos, “My heart’s healing already.”

You grab his arm to pull his hand away from his chest and he spins around to skate at your side, eyes briefly scanning the floor until they’re back on you. 

“I wasn’t checking him out but believe me… you’re going to be absolutely devastated when Vernon finally admits he’s in love with me. Game over, buddy.”

Mingyu looks wholly unconvinced. “Well, he’s had long enough and you’re going to fall in love with me by the end of the week so…” he pinches his lips together like he’s just delivered the real, honest, awkward truth and you’re battling butterflies in your stomach. 

“End of the week, huh? Are we sure?”

He gets distracted by an increase in volume but for only a moment because Wonwoo is already on it and the quick, sharp sound of his whistle means Mingyu’s full attention is on you again. “That’s what I have circled on my calendar,” he shrugs, “Nothing we can do about it now but let it happen.”

Mingyu’s sense of humor and playful nature are the literal nails in your coffin. You can handle hot with no personality…this one is hot with an overabundance of personality.

You look up at him, probably grinning ear to ear, “Bet you have little hearts doodled all over it with a hot pink gel pen, don’t ya, Hot Wheels?”

He grumbles something under his breath and it makes you snicker. Wonwoo started that one and it seemed to spread throughout the building like wildfire. Now, even the ticket ladies call him Hot Wheels though you’re sure they mean it quite literally whereas Wonwoo was actually just busting Mingyu’s balls about a particularly embarrassing tumble he took.

“Purple gel pen, actually,” he turns and pouts as you both bank around the curve again, “Lost my pink one.”

“Could always steal another one from your little sister.”

At that, he scoffs, the corner of his lips pulled up into a half-smile, “She threw a Barbie car at my head the last time I visited,” he doesn’t even sound upset…it’s more proud than anything, “She reminds me of you sometimes.”

When you go to respond, a young boy accidentally skates too close to you and his wheels knock into yours throwing you both off balance. You catch him by the arm, meeting his panic-stricken eyes, and wait to hit the floor but you rock back against a hard chest and thank all your lucky stars Mingyu was there to save you. The older you get, the harder the floor feels. 

“I’m so sorry!” The boy exclaims once you’re all steady again, “I’m not good at this! I promise I wasn’t trying to take you out!”

His genuine concern is sweet and you laugh it off. “It’s totally okay and nobody got hurt,” you tell him and he takes a deep breath, “Wanna go around together a few times?”

The boy’s eyes shine and he nods his head rapidly. Mingyu drops back a few paces and you hold out your arm, elbow tucked into your side. “Okay,” you pat your forearm, “Hold on here…there you go…and we’re going to push off at the same time with the same foot. Hey, Gyu,” you call over your shoulder and he comes back up to your side, waiting for your instructions, “Will you skate a little ahead of us so he can watch you?”

“For sure,” Mingyu grins, picking up speed until he’s far enough away to slow his pace again and remain ahead of you.

The kid is a bit wobbly but he’s trying really hard and it makes you smile. You remember when you first learned to skate and how intimidating the rink was though you were around eight and he looks to be around fourteen. There wasn’t a floor full of bigger, faster kids to compete with though so you think maybe you got off easier.

“You’re doing great,” you encourage him, “Watch him go around the curve to get a better idea of how to steer yourself.”

Mingyu banks it beautifully, as usual. It’s surprising to most people that someone his size could skate so fluidly especially after learning that he only started playing hockey in his early teens. It was just something he had a natural talent for and trading out blades for wheels hadn’t altered his ability to move with grace whatsoever.

You work through the turn together, a little less smoothly, but you make it around and he lets out a short laugh. “He makes it look so easy.”

“Yeah, well he’s had lots and lots of practice and likes to show off.”

Your eyes settle on Mingyu again and as if he can sense you watching, he turns over his shoulder and winks which is not solely witnessed by you because the kid chuckles, following through the next curve with more confidence. “Is he your boyfriend? He’s kinda cool.”

The question catches you off guard and you laugh, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Not my boyfriend but yeah…I guess he’s kinda cool.”

He looks up at you…almost mischievously you’d think, if you knew him better. “I think he wants to be your boyfriend,” he snickers, “He keeps looking at you.”

You huff out a laugh, placing your hand over his before swinging you both into a stop out of the way. “I’m starting to think this is all a ruse and he’s paying you to put in a good word.”

The kid laughs and shakes his head, “No, I’m just nosey and a really lousy skater,” he says, looking up at Mingyu who’s come over and stopped next to you, “Thanks a lot for helping me out,” he looks a little sheepish, hand reaching around to scratch the back of his neck, “There is this girl at school I like and she’s a figure skater. She asked me out on a date at the ice rink when she comes back from vacation with her family in two weeks and I said yes even though I’m probably going to make a fool of myself. Figured I should start practicing now and falling on wheels is less intimidating than falling with knives on my feet.”

You laugh softly and Mingyu grins, shaking his head. “I admire your dedication to getting the girl, kid. Listen, I coach a youth hockey league at the ice rink down the road and have a free hour a few days a week that I use to practice myself. I’d be happy to teach you if you want.”

The boy’s eyes light up. “That would be so cool!”

Mingyu chuckles, “Alright, awesome. Are one of your parents here with you? I can go talk to them and give them my information.”

“Yeah! My grandma is sitting over there,” he points to the corner where you both make out an older woman sitting alone with a book in hand, surrounded by way too many boisterous young people. 

You meet Mingyu’s eyes and both make a face. “Yikes, okay, let’s go save grandma.”

The boy thanks you again and starts to merge back into the flow of skaters as Mingyu smiles at you, pushing off with a ‘Don’t miss me too much’ and a stupid kissy face. 

His grin is wild and gorgeous when you wiggle your fingers and whisper, “Bye, lover boy.”

Vernon is smiling at you when you reach his booth and you hop up onto the small ledge that allows a good look at the floor as a whole while also giving your legs a needed break. He’s playing one is his 80’s to 90’s pop mixes and tweaking the rotating lights that dance over the skaters until they start changing colors, neon polka dots as far as the eye can see. 

There is a steady exchange of kids coming on and off the floor. Most of the early group heading into the arcade or bombarding the concessions counter while the later crowd takes their place. In between all that, you catch sight of Mingyu speaking with the boy and his Grandma. You don’t even realize that you’re unabashedly smiling at the scene, thinking about how kind and attentive he is when he’s listening. The way he leans in and pulls back, grinning and laughing. 

“Still think you’re not into him?” Vernon says over your shoulder, laughing when you startle.

You purse your lips, eyes wandering back over. “I’m simply admiring his social aptitude,” you flick your eyes back up to Vernon and grin, “Why? Is it making you jealous darling?”

He smirks, “Not yet. Gonna have to try harder.”

“Ugh,” you swoon, hand over your heart, “I love it when you play hard to get.”

Vernon nods his head laughing, “Yeahhhh, I know you do.” Then he notices you’ve got your eye on an issue that needs handling and reaches out to pat the top of your head, “Two more hours and they all have to go home to be someone else’s responsibility. I’ll throw in some of your favorite jams.”

Ten o’clock couldn’t come soon enough but you appreciate his offer and toss out a few songs for consideration though he’s pretty familiar with your tastes. You step back down onto the floor and blow Vernon a kiss when you immediate recognzie the song he’s jumped into…just for you.

 “You really are the best. Check on you in a bit, undercover lover.”

He throws up a peace sign and you cut across the floor to ask a couple of kids who were just blowing and popping bubbles to go spit out their gum as it’s clearly stated that it's not allowed on the floor. They don’t love your request and start to argue but Mingyu sneaks up behind you again and dazzles them with a smile. Just like that, the two young girls start giggling and falling all over themselves to do exactly as asked…all because the pretty guy said ‘Please’. 

It’s comical, honestly. 

Mingyu is smirking when he rolls along beside you, bending at the waist to peek up at your face because it’s aimed at the floor as you try to school your features. He’s so irritatingly flirtatious and you’re too quickly playing into his hand tonight. You’re usually better than this, holding out well until you’re pulling out of the parking lot. 

“Oh, yeah,” he intones, “Tonight is definitely the night. You’re giving in. You can’t resist me any longer. It was bound to happen. You’re still smiling! I can see it!”

Laughing, you pull your head up and give him a look that you would have loved to be firm but it’s not in the slightest. How can you be serious when he is so not serious? “Don’t you dare,” you warn with a loose laugh tacked on at the end, “I told you, we’re not going on a date.”

Mingyu shrugs, “So, movies tomorrow night?”

“Don’t you work tomorrow?”

He bats his eyes with a saccharine smile, “I love that you know my schedule by heart,” he ignores your eye roll, “Wonu’s covering my shift since he owed me one and also because he’s a true romantic. He’s rooting for us and we can’t disappoint him.”

“Well, I suppose if it’s what Wonwoo wants…” you look up at him, eyes glittering with excitement, “When are you picking me up?”

For as calm and cool as Mingyu keeps it on the outside, he’s buzzing on the inside because he’s been toying around with the idea of taking you out forever. And he’s asked…more than once…but you’ve kept him on his toes and he’s enjoyed the playing the game but he’s elated that you’re finally saying yes.

He tries to school is face but he’s still beaming as he tries to casually say, “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Seven?” you snicker, “Isn’t that a little late to get started? You keeping me out all night?”

He just shrugs, grinning. “Maybe.”

Mingyu shows up nearly twenty minutes early and you can see his car outside your condo. He doesn’t make a move to get out and it’s amusing to watch as he nervously drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a few beats before reaching for the door like he’s going to get out, and then shaking his head before resuming the fidgeting. It’s also a relief to know he’s feeling the same jitters you are. 

The thought crossed your mind to pop your head out to wave him inside but he might be giving himself a pep-talk and you’re still contemplating your outfit. 

The movie theater is always so cold. You debated the pros and cons of wearing something short-sleeved because on one hand, if you’re cold it might prompt your date to keep you warm but on the other hand, if he didn’t, you’d be freezing the whole time. 

You could bring a jacket, but that’s an extra thing to carry. 

Digging through your closet, you pull out a fuzzy black long-sleeved sweater. You hold it out, admiring the way it’s cropped a little shorter in the front, and then turn back to the mirror, holding it up to your chest. It would look cute with the Levi’s you’re wearing…decisions, decisions.

A car horn beeps and you peer out of your window seeing Mingyu rigid behind the wheel. You laugh, thinking he probably did not mean to do it and is embarrassed at having accidentally made too much noise. That’s pretty obvious by the way he’s looking around, paranoid and frustrated. It’s actually super cute and you’re lingering by the window now just admiring him from afar without care

Until you see Mingyu cut the engine and get out of the car. Then the panic sets in because you’re still not ready and well…it’s the first time he’s seeing you outside of work and not in uniform. You want him to be wowed and are probably still taking too long to get moving considering how brisk of a stride you know his to be. He’ll be here any second.

You scramble to pull on the sweater in your hands and run into the bathroom to grab your gold hoops, fix your hair, and check your makeup one last time. Your heart is racing but you smile at your reflection. He sees you all the time at work looking not even half as done-up as you are right now and thinks you’re a solid 10, so there isn’t really any doubt he’ll be pleased. Then the doorbell rings. 

A few deep breaths to calm your nerves comes first. When you open the door, Mingyu’s mouth is fixed like he had a line locked and loaded but when he sees you, he chokes on the words. He’s so flustered that he stumbles back a step, laughing at himself. “Oh, you’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?”

That lights you up from the inside out and brings your confidence back around full circle.

“Have I ever made things easy for you?” you snicker, grabbing your purse off the hook by the door, “I think you like a challenge.”

“Nah, I just like you,” he smirks, tongue poking the end of his pointed canine as he watches you close and lock the door, trying his hardest to be respectful, “You look really good. Have I said that yet?”

Stashing your keys in your purse, you turn and grin up at him. “You alluded to it but I wouldn’t mind hearing you say it out loud.”

Always playing and teasing and flirting. It’s almost too much for you both to bear at this point. 

“I’ll tell you as many times as you want,” he says softly but he reaches toward you, slipping his hand just behind your hip to pull you closer with a bold, sharp tug. Startled, you bump right into Mingyu’s chest and look up at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t say anything for a minute and then tilts his head back, sighing into the sky above. He’s mostly amused when he looks back at you.

“You look incredible…and we should get in the car before I ruin the illusion of me being a gentleman.”

“That image has been splintering for a while but I don’t think I’ll mind if a manner or two slips,” you tease as you pull apart, taking the time to look him up and down…

Light-washed jeans, crisp white t-shirt, open flannel hanging off his broad shoulders…”You look really good too,” you murmur in appreciation.

He’s about to sweating straight through his shirt if you keep looking at him like that.

“...yep…time to go,” he mumbles, pinching is lips together as he grabs your hand. He pulls you toward the parking lot which isn’t far, and opens the door for you to slip into his passenger seat. He doesn’t let go until you’re settled and takes it a touch further when he reaches in and grabs the seatbelt before you. His hand purposely grazes against the exposed skin between your pants and top as he buckles you in and you let out the breath you were holding the second he closes your door.

It’s getting more difficult to play hard-to-get by the millisecond but you’re willing to give in first if your reward is Mingyu breaking down bit by bit right in front of you. 

You bite your lip to keep from giggling when he quickly rounds the car and settles into his seat next to you. He’s still shaking his head, quietly laughing at himself for getting so easily worked up. He turns over the engine, shifting into drive, and peers over at you with an air of disbelief. 

“I’m starting to think we’re gonna have to sit in separate rows at this rate.”

Thankfully, the tension melts into easy banter and conversation on the ride to the theater. Mingyu entertains you with stories about his family and asks after yours, specifically your beloved niece whom he loves hearing about. He lets you toy around with his radio and blare some Spice Girls song that neither of you sings along to with the correct pitch…or words. It’s a blast either way.

Bold flirtation aside, Mingyu has always been a gentleman where it counts.

When you arrive at the movie theater, he opens all the doors, holds your hand every chance he gets, pays for your tickets and snacks despite your protesting, and lets you choose where to sit. The theater isn’t very full, though the movie you both decided on has been out for a while so it’s not all that surprising to see so many open seats. There are a few people scattered here and there and you don’t particularly love sitting next to others if you can avoid it. 

That leaves the very front or the very back. 

You glance over your shoulder at Mingyu, patiently waiting for you to decide, “You really don’t care?” 

He shakes his head again with a soft smile and you sigh looking back at the open seats, “I don’t like being super close…are you okay with sitting up top?”

Mingyu’s eyes scan the very empty top rows and widen like he hadn’t actually realized how secluded they were until just now. “Totally cool,” he manages after a moment, “Lead the way.”

“Oh boy,” you whisper to yourself, turning to make your way up the stairs. You have to focus ahead and calculate the distance of each step so you don’t screw up and trip because that would be awfully embarassing. It’s dark, cold, and quiet, and there is a huge gap between the section you’re headed toward and the next closest couple sitting in the middle. 

The very last row was almost too intimidating as if it somehow was the designated spot reserved for horny, depraved teenagers, and you were mid-twenty adults…so you stopped once you hit the second to last row and cut in a few seats before deciding that sitting in the middle was also weird so you dropped into the fourth seat from the aisle and forced yourself to stay put. 

PIcking a seat and sticking with it has never been so daunting before.

Mingyu doesn’t say anything at all about your choice, much to your relief. If he cracked a joke about it, you think you might just burst at the seams. He just sits down in the seat next to you folding his very large frame into the too-tight space between the armrests. You’re both quiet as the lights dim and the previews start rolling but you can still feel him wiggling and adjusting himself next to you.

Your eyes meet when he accidentally bumps your arm and you smile at the fact that he is genuinely embarrassed, for no reason at all other than unintentionally taking up extra space. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, “I don’t remember the seats feeling this cramped.”

“It’s really okay,” you turn, tucking his elbow safely into his side as you lift the armrest between you to give him more room, “We can share.”

“Are you sure?” his eyes seek yours again in the darkness, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You quietly snicker at his worry when he was the one being so brazen with your proximity earlier. At the same time, you can appreciate his consideration and reassure him with a gentle smile. “I really don’t mind…the extra body heat is appreciated.”

You can feel the moment Mingyu lets the tension flow out of his body. His shoulders relax until your arms touch lightly, his legs spread a little further apart as he sinks into his seat, firm thigh now pressed to the outside of your own. He’s warm and his cologne, as usual, is so rich and alluring that you know you’re going to be fighting the urge to mold yourself to his side for the next hour and a half. 

Surprisingly, the movie isn’t half bad even though it was one you chose because every other film out was either super sad or overtly romantic and neither genre felt like a good fit for a first date. ‘Black Mask’ had a decent balance of action scenes and suspense that pretty easily kept your eyes on the screen, at least for a little while, sharing sour gummy worms and a soda between the two of you. 

Your attention began to wane after the third time you bumped hands with Mingyu and it was lost entirely when he decided to simply hold your hand instead. Movie plot gone in an instant.

Instead of the screen, your eyes fall to your joined hands resting in his lap. They climb up to his chest, slowly rising and falling with each measured breath. Carefully, you let them slide higher, admiring the shadows projected over his throat and jaw. Higher to admire his handsome face. Higher again, just to get a little more of him, and when you get there, you find him staring back.

Neither of you shy away this time. Mingyu nervously licks his lips and his eyes flit down to yours, only for a second, just to reassure himself that you’re both on the same wavelength even though the chemistry between you has always been pretty clear. He still hesitates before he leans closer but you’re done waiting and choose to kiss him first. 

It’s soft, brief, and when you part, you can see the smile on his handsome face and it brings the butterflies in your stomach back to life all over again. He cups your cheek and pulls you back into another kiss, and then another, and another. A million times you’d thought about kissing Mingyu and this was still far better than any you’d imagined thus far.  

Actually kissing him highlights the small details you were missing. The bits of it that are unique and a part of him only. It’s the way his thumb strokes against your cheek, how he tilts his face and changes his angle so fluidly that you follow him like it’s completely natural, the tender way he’s slow to let go of your bottom lip and how he kisses it afterward. 

It’s certainly not your first kiss or even the first time you’ve made out with someone at the movies, but this feels entirely new. Mingyu is not some hopped up, horny kid. He takes his time with you, he’s gentle, patient. It’s not sloppy or rushed. He isn’t trying to clumsily cop a feel the whole time, though, you think you’d probably let him and that he wouldn’t fumble around at all. It feels like he knows exactly what he’s doing, even if he doesn’t.

You hope that you feel natural to him too.

He pulls back with a slow hum of appreciation and that’s good enough for you.. When your eyes meet, you’re both smiling, and Mingyu takes that as his good sign. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side until he feels your body relax against his and you finish the movie just like that. 

Well, you’re both looking at the screen but you’re more focused on the way he continues to kiss your hair every few minutes and he’s locked on to the feeling of your nails gently drawing a line up and down his thigh. 

Eventually, the lights come on and you’re a little slow to untangle as the rest of the theater clears out. It’s entirely empty by the time either of you hit the stairs. 

“Soooo,” Mingyu hums, trailing behind you half a step, “Thoughts…opinions…? On the movie, of course.”

You laugh without turning around and nod your head, “Right…the movie, yeah. Just as the trailer promised,” you focus on your feet moving a step at a time and not tripping, “Perfectly executed action sequences.”

He grins to himself, tucking his chin into his chest. “I’m glad it lived up to all the hype,” he balances his weight on one foot before taking the next step, “Nothing worse than all that anticipation ending in disappointment.”

You peer over your shoulder at him, smiling coyly, “Oh, no disappointment here. I’m sure i’ll be thinking about it for quite some time.”

He huffs out a laugh, “Are we talking about the movie or the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you smirk, quickly turning around to hurry down the rest of the steps but he’s right behind you the whole way.

Just as you whip around the corner and into the dim hallway that leads to the exit, Mingyu catches you around the waist and pins you up against the wall. You can feel his heart thudding under your palms, the thrill of excitement hardly contained in his chest as his lips crash into yours. 

Disappointment is so very far from your realm of feeling at the moment. Any expectation you had, which admittedly was already pretty high, was shattered and elevated yet another level each time his tongue danced across the seam of your lips or when his hands made another pass over your body.

From the beginning, you theorized that Mingyu was more than just a smooth talker. You had him pegged as a man with follow-through and you’re simply rolling in it, knowing you were right, and now you’re experiencing it for yourself which makes things that much more gratifying. 

Mingyu was a certified lover boy. Called and confirmed it.

The very best part, you think to yourself as you feel him grin against your lips, is that he’s yours…or at least, he wants to be. You don’t have to let him know he’s already won.

He’s still smiling when you slide your hands over his arms, pointedly squeezing the ample muscle there, and he finishes you off with a few final, fluttering kisses. 

When your eyes meet, there is a buzz of nervous laughter and Mingyu again asks, “So, the movie or the kiss?”

Your gaze drifts back down to his mouth and your stomach twists torturously when his knowing smirk reveals a prettily pointed canine. The same that’s bitten into your bottom lip a few times already this evening. You look back up and narrow your eyes playfully, “I don’t recall any kissi-”

He leans back down, slotting his lips against yours and the second he so much as breathes the door at the end of the hall clicks open and you hear two voices, likely the staff coming to clean the theater, and here you two delinquints are still splattered against the wall playing tonsil hockey. 

Mingyu freezes and your eyes are wide as saucers. “Go, go around the other way!”

You have to slip out from under his frame and drag him a few feet before his mind catches up and you’re both scrambling back across the theater to the exit on the opposite side. As quietly as you can, you peek out of the small window to make sure the coast is clear and pop the door open for you both to come tumbling out. 

The wide corridor outside the theater is mercifully empty but the adrenaline in your bodies’ leaves you jogging toward the side exit, laughter bubbling up and out into the open space around you. It’s all so silly and exhilarating, and when Mingyu grabs your hand, pulling you through the doors out into that warm summer air, you’re sure you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so…alive. 

Or maybe there is just something about the moon and stars, and the way their enchanting glow seems to make everything in their wake just a little more beautiful. He’s one of those things - bright, beautiful, feathered and soft around the edges. 

You’ve stopped to catch your breath but it remains trapped in your chest the longer you look at him. It’s suddenly a little heavy, this crush of yours, weighed down by impression of his hands on your hips, your face, the small of your back. Flirting and teasing was easy. Agreeing to finally go out with him was easy. Realizing the potential for more was real and standing in front of you was a shock to your system because you’re uncovering very quickly how much you want that with him.

“We should definitely go to dairy queen.”

It takes a minute to process his words and then with a little shake, you lift your head to find Mingyu smiling back down at you. “Feels like the movie might have left you with a lot to think about and nothing helps me sort through my head quite like ice cream.”

You cock your head to the side, the tension in your chest evaporating just like that.

“Have you always this charming?”

“When I put in the extra effort, which is only for you, sure,” he chuckles, using your joined hands to pull you a little closer as you walk alongside eachother through the parking lot, “I’m not everyone’s cup of tea though.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” you scoff, bumping into his arm with your shoulder, “Everyone loves you. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes.”

His tongue pokes into his cheek, rolling his eyes skyward, “You missed the guy I had to escort out of the rink a couple weeks ago who took a few swings at me in the parking lot. Pretty sure he was not enthralled by my dazzling smile and strapping good looks.”

“One person…that’s all you got?”

Reaching his car, Mingyu opens the passenger door for you and waits until you’re seated and looking up at him expectantly. He licks his lips and smirks, “Buckle up, you’re in for a ride.”

After grabbing ice cream, you decided making your date drive over to the shore was favorable to sitting on the sticky red tables outside the DQ, so instead, you’re sitting side by side on a small gym towel he miraculously had in his trunk, eating your deserts and swapping stories to the tune of the gentle waves crashing ashore. 

So far, you’ve learned that the sole reason Mingyu got into hockey in the first place was because he was in constant trouble as a kid…in school, at home, or literally anywhere else he happened to be. His poor mother tried to put him in every sport and hobby she could think of to keep him busy and out of trouble but baseball wasn’t a fit, basketball ended in another fist fight and suspension, football benched a few and landed one kid in the hospital, and any form of martial arts was out of the question. 

Finally, she found an ad in the newspaper for boy’s hockey team tryouts and the rest was history. You can clearly hear the admiration in his voice when he spoke about his original coach and his teammates. How it was touch and go from the start but no matter how much hot water he found himself in, they wouldn’t quit on him. When he realized that, he started pouring all of his pent up energy into the game and it changed him in all the best ways. It’s the whole reason he coaches today…to be someone who can make a positive change in a kid’s life the way his coach did for him.

Honestly, it’s hard to imagine Mingyu as anything other than the kind, gentle, playful guy you know him to be but everyone grows and changes. He still has a wild sort of glint in his eyes at times that lead you to believe every word he’s said about his younger years. 

The sea breeze is crisp and almost a little chilly despite the warm air it mixes with so you push a little closer into Mingyu’s side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Cold?”

“A bit,” you roll your head toward him, resting it against the crook of his shoulder, “Kinda just wanted to be close to you again…despite your delinquent past, I think I like you a little.”

“A little?” he smirks, eyes darting to your mouth briefly, “I think you like me a lot.”

Scrunching your nose, you make a face at him and he tosses his head back and laughs. 

“If you don’t admit it soon I’m going to have to make a huge, probably embarrassing,  for you, romantic gesture,” he counters, looking very half-serious, “A big old fashioned declaration of love…in public…loudly.”

“You’re still a little shit, aren’t you?”

“Don’t pretend you aren’t loving the reformed bad boy thing.” He’s spot on because Mingyu is the exact kind of guy you would have had a crush on back then too. 

You let out a long sigh and pick your head up, leaning to the side to bury your now-empty cup in the sand so it doesn’t blow away just like Mingyu had on his side. In the process, Mingyu slips his arm a little lower on your back, his hand curled around your hip to keep you balanced. You love every single point of contact so you fall right back into his side when you sit up again.

“To be fair, I think you’re only partly reformed,” more smirking, “Mhm, that’s exactly what I mean,” you hum in amusement, “Listen, I’ll give in…just a little…and admit that there are a lot of things I love about you..”

“I’m listening,” he purrs, ready for the boost in confidence you’re surely about to give him. Anything that could even vaguely resemble a compliment would send him over the moon coming from you. 

“I love the way…you genuinely enjoy helping people,” you start quietly, soothing the subtle nerves beginning to tingle in your fingertips, “I love that you put so much time and effort into coaching your kids and how much you love talking about them…how you’ll roll your eyes and shake your head telling me stories about them and yet you always finish with a smile because ‘they’re a handful but they’re good kids’”

Mingyu snorts softly and you knowingly ask, “There’s lots of little Mingyu’s on your team, aren’t there?”

He nods slowly, pushing the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “Ohhh yeahhh,” he breathes out with a light chuckle, “I understand now why my coach made me run drills until I dropped. I’ve got a couple that have already outshined my reputation at their age and some days it’s a battle of wills but they’ve come along way,” he ducks his head, grinning, “Hoping they’re the extent of my karma and it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass when I have kids one day.”

He makes a face right after he says it and looks down at you almost apologetically, “Was that weird to say on a first date? I feel like that’s something you’re supposed to avoid but you’re easy to talk to and words just fall out of my mouth sometimes.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you laugh, quirking an eyebrow at him, “I know it’s a first date but we’re not strangers, besides, I’ve always just assumed you were a family kind of guy. You talk about yours all the time, super close with your little sister, and from all i’ve witnessed, you’re just kinda great with kids in general,” you shrug, easing his worry, “I promise, it’s not a shock to me that you’d want your own and I’ll save you the torture of wondering whether to ask or not…yes, I’d like to have kids someday. Someday farrrrr away in the future.”

“Oh, good,” he chuckles, “Me too...lightyears away.”

It’s not on either of your radars currently but it’s nice to know that you have common goals for the future. It leaves a brief pause in the conversation, though not an uncomfortable one. Just a quiet moment to soak things in. 

First date, first kiss(es), and it’s all going…perfectly. 

It’s one thing to flirt and banter with a cute co-worker but taking the leap and going on a date together is a whole different game. There are very real feelings on both sides of the court and the potential for something real and permanent is so palpable you can feel it pushing you closer to one another. Leap again. Put yourself out there and trust the other will catch you.

Mingyu breaks the silence first and you feel his fingers twitch against your back. 

“I really like you,” he says steadily, like that was the easy part, “I think you’re beautiful inside and out, stop laughing i’m being serious,” he grins and you try to reel it in for his sake, “My first day on the job I was blatantly called out and laughed at by Wonwoo after he caught me spacing out and staring at you for the third time…I don’t think I even made it an hour into my shift before I was hooked.”

“Oh, I thought you were being serious?” you grin.

“Shhhh,” he counters, “I’m not done.”

“Where was I? Oh yeah…you’re a good friend and a good person, and I like having you in my life,” he says softly, picking up your hand and pulling it into his lap, “I want to bring you home to meet my family so my mom can drag out the photo albums the way she’s always joked about doing while my sister spends the whole time telling you embarrassing things about me. They would like like you a lot. The boys on my team already like you.”

“Oh?”

He laughs, “Oh yeah, they’re always in my business and I made the mistake of bringing you up at a practice once so you’re a regular topic of discussion. I should have known I was doomed from then on and they’re brutal sometimes. One kid called me a loser because he’s fourteen and has a girlfriend and I don’t.”

“Is that how you’re asking me out? Trying to get the sympathy vote because you’re getting picked on by a bunch of kids?” you smirk.

“Maybe…is it working?” he asks, gaze dipping to your mouth for the millionth time tonight.

“I don’t know yet,” you inch a little closer, “Maybe you should try softening me up a little more before you ask again.”

He pauses, hovering just a breadth away from your face and his open mouth pulls into a sly grin, “By any means necessary?”

“Do what you have to do I suppos-”

“Niiccceee hickey.”

You slap a hand over the mark you swore you’d covered well enough with concealor, apparently not, and whip your head in Vernon’s direction. “Can you not announce it loud enough for everyone to hear?”

Vernon glances side to side. “There is literally no one except us in here and that thing announced itself.”

“What thing?” 

Wonwoo comes in and drops his bag on the wooden bench, pulling out his uniform top to shrug over his shoulders. His glasses sit askew on his face and you really hope he’s got good insurance because they’re always in awful shape. 

You turn and press your forehead against the cool metal of your locker door and Vernon chuckles, stowing his things noisely. “The physical evidence to prove that her date went abundantly well.”

Wonwoo smirks, walking closer to pry your hand away from your neck. He whistles. “Damn, Mingyu’s a biter…not surprised. Good luck hiding that thing - it’s going to be with you for a while.”

“Ok. Hickey expert. Thanks for your input,” you grumble.

He shrugs. “We all have interests and hobbies, and you’re welcome.”

You roll your eyes and turn around, leaning back against your locker with a pout. “I’m kinda nervous that we’re working together tonight for the first time since we went out. Do you think it will be weird?” 

Vernon makes a goofy face. “Why would it be weird? I thought you said everything went well and you’re like, dating now? Did something happen?”

“No, everything was great,” you slump down a little further, “Like…too great. I’m trying not to jinx things or be weird. Are we too old to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend? Is that a thing for adults? Or did we grow out of that after high school?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, fixing the notch on his belt, “No, we’re not too old for that. He’s your boyfriend. You’re his girlfriend. Simple.”

“Is it?” you reply with a unintentional snap that doesn’t phase either of them.

Vernon sits on the bench in front of you and stretches his back out, groaning like an old man. “Yes, simple. You like him and he likes you, and you have fun together. I fail to see the problem.”

“Yeah, that’s like, the opposite of a problem,” Wonwoo agrees, “Besides…being left alone in the rink after hours sounds mighty convenient if you ask me.”

Snapping your jaw shut, your eyes widen, “What exactly are you suggesting?”

Wonwoo smirks, “I’m not suggesting anything but an opportunist would use their imagination.”

Both you and Vernon peg Wonwoo with a suspicious stare.

“With all due respect,” you say slowly, your eyebrow steadily raising with each word, “I didn’t think you rolled like that.”

“Neither did I,” Vernon adds, equally intrigued.

“You’re kind of a freak, aren’t you?”

“Who’s a freak?”

All three of you startle and whirl around to see Mingyu coming through the door. His hair is wet, likely freshly showered after hockey practice, and he’s looking at each of you with a clueless grin. 

“Nothing and no one!” you reply with a grin, already floating toward the hunk in the doorway, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he grins down at you, “I see you and I got stuck closing tonight.” 

You swallow down the knot in your throat and hold up a middle finger behind your back directed at Vernon and Wonwoo’s snickering. 

“Yep,” you bounce on your toes, “Just you and I…closing everything down…together…tonight.”

Mingyu’s lips pinch together to hold in a laugh. You were always so bold and confident when it came to teasing him and now, he can tell you’re having to make a great effort to hold it all together. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he chooses, satisfied when your eyes widen just a touch, “I think Jim’s looking for you by the way. If you’re done getting-” 

“Yes,” you squeeze his arms and then move past him at lightening speed, rushing out the door. 

Mingyu just stands there and laughs quietly before looking up to see the grin on Vernon and Wonwoo’s faces. “Alright, how much did she tell you?”

“Didn’t have to tell us much at all.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “The bite marks you left told us everything we needed to know.”

Mingyu’s eyes drop to the floor as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. He’s glad the ones you left on him are covered by his collar because he just barely got away with blaming it on equipment mishandling when one of the older boys in his youth league pointed one out with a mischievous laugh.

Vernon claps a hand over his shoulder on his way out the door causing Mingyu to look back up again. “Happy for you, dude. She’s a good one.”

Mingyu smiles softly, “Thanks, man.”

When he leaves, Mingyu pushes further into the room and starts getting himself situated, glancing over at Wonwoo every now and then like he’s waiting for him to say something.

“I can feel you staring,” Wonwoo mumbles, eyes now glued to his Game Boy Pocket as he tries to save his progress from earlier.

Mingyu shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, pushing his bag into his locker. 

Wonwoo puts his game down and looks up. “Whaddaya want, Hot Wheels?”

He pauses, making a face at the nickname, and then carefully asks, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is it for me to-”

“Make a move tonight?”

Mingyu’s mouth pops open. “Oh,” he blinks, “You read minds too?”

Wonwoo sighs and leans back a touch, both hands gripping the edge of the bench beneath him. “To be fair, that’s exactly what I’d be thinking about if I were in your position. Empty building…gorgeous girlfriend…”

Mingyu scoffs, “Alright, easy…”

He gets a smirk in return and Wonwoo stands, stretching his long limbs. “I’m not wrong and also not interested in your girl so relax,” he leans down and tugs on the laces of his skates and then straightens out, “You both think too much. Just be normal. Do the same lovey dovey, flirty shit you always do and see how the night goes.”

“You’re kind of good at this,” Mingyu compliments, his lips pulling into a half-smirk, “What do you get up to when you’re off the clock and not playing big brother of the year?”

Nearing the door, Wonwoo just turns over his shoulder and tosses Mingyu a wink.

He’s handed out enough advice for one night.

You were still jittery when Mingyu joined you out on the floor but falling into the same routine was pretty simple, just like Vernon and Wonwoo said, and it took loads of anxious tension off your shoulders. If anything, Mingyu was more playful with his teasing and a little more bold with his physical affection when others weren’t paying attention. 

It was like a game of how flustered he could make you without getting in trouble for fooling around on the job. The floor was crowded which simply meant he got to stay a little closer to you without looking suspicious which allowed him to find out how fun it was to pull you around by the belt loops of your pants. 

He loved the little noise of surprise you let out every time he snuck up behind you, hooking his finger through the loop to tug you back against his chest where he pretended to tell you something important. Like he was just trying to talk to you over the sound of the music when he had nothing but more teasing to whisper in your ear. 

The hours flew by unnoticed and before long, you were bidding your last goodbyes to the rest of the staff having finished their own cleaning and closing duties. 

Mingyu went into the office to toy with the audio system after you asked to throw something on just so it wasn’t silent in the big dark building while you followed Vernon and Wonwoo to the doors to lock up after them. 

Vernon shifts his bag on his shoulder and cuts a sideways glance in your direction. “You gonna be okay?”

You shrug, touched and confused he’d asked. “Yeah, I’ve closed up a million times. All good.”

Wonwoo pats the top of your head like a puppy. They both have a habit of that.

“He meant, are you gonna be okay here alone with Mingyu? Are you comfortable with us leaving - not that I think he’d ever do something to hurt or upset you…I’d kill him and he knows it…but you give us the word and we’ll stay.”

“Oh,” you blink and wave your hands dismissively, “No, we’re good! I was just worried about being a loser earlier but we’re totally fine!”

“We thought so,” Vernon grins, pushing the glass door open, “Just checking.”

It’s sweet and embarrassing that they’d thought to ask and you tell them as much as you gently push Vernon through the doorway. “Thought for a minute you were finally ready to confess,” you joke, fake pout on your lips and all, “I’ll drop him like a hot potato if you ask, Nonnie.”

Wonwoo follows him out and laughs, “You’re full of shit but I’m sure he appreciates the sentiment. By the way, if you find yourself in need…Jihoon keeps condoms in his locker.”

You slap a hand over your mouth, covering your shocked laughter. “First of all, mind your business and second, what the hell?!”

Vernon shrugs, “Man likes to be prepared I guess!”

….Line cooks are one of a kind. Truly.

You’re shaking your head as they wave goodbye and walk off toward Wonwoo’s car as it must have been his turn to carpool. Pulling the doors shut, you carefully lock each one and double check them before turning on your heel and then the music cuts on over the speakers. It’s not crazy loud but enough to keep the odd sounds that accompany a big old building from rattling in your ears. 

Mingyu pops his head out of the office when you round the corner and you cock your head in question, “Beastie Boys?”

“Couldn’t get the discs to work so radio it is,” he shrugs, “I can find something else if you want.”

You shake your head, brushing past his shoulder into the small office to sit down and reconcile the financials for the night. “I’m not picky. Did you already grab the bags from the registers?”

He nods, “Yep, everything’s there and Jim left the keys for the safe in the desk,” Mingyu squeezes your shoulders when you sit down and you smile up at him. “I’m going to knock out the kitchen and rental walk-throughs while you count if that’s okay? After that we will just have shut down the arcade and I can take out the left over trash bags.”

“That would be amazing,” you tell him, head still cushioned against the office chair as you smile lazily up at him, “I just love a man that knows how to take charge and get the job done.”

He immediately chokes out a laugh and turns on his heel muttering something about how ‘he’s not going to get anything done if you keep that up’ as he walks away.

It takes another full minute to bring the task at hand back into focus and you have to consciously fight off the intrusive inappropriate thoughts clouding your brain when it’s supposed to be crunching numbers. You even have to recount a few bags because the image of Mingyu sitting you on the desk you’re working at to do dirty things with you keeps popping into your head and it’s getting harder and harder to focus. After probably twice the amount of time it usually takes you to do the financials, you’re finally done and locking the safe when Mingyu returns. 

“Oh, hey,” you perk up when you notice him in the doorway, “Ready to go do the arcade?”

“Already done,” he snickers, “I came back after walk-throughs and caught you cursing and restarting your counts so I just went ahead and finished up the list.”

“Oh!” you shift on your feet, “...guess we’re all done then.”

Mingyu crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame looking extra swoon-worthy. Not a single poster of your favorite 80s and 90s heartthrobs plastered to the walls of your old bedroom held a candle to the picture in front of you and he knows it. 

“You sound disappointed. I’m sure we could find other things to do if you wanna stay a little longer,” his eyes shift over to the audio system, still playing a mix of alternative and pop hits, and fixes his eyes back on you, “Ever considered making out with someone in an empty skating rink with No Doubt playing over the speakers?”

“Can’t say I have. What about you?”

Mingyu grins, shifting his weight to tower over you, “Thought just now crossed my mind.”

He slides one hand beneath your jaw and the other over your hip, slotting his lips against yours as he walks you back until you bump into the desk behind you. After teasing you with your belt loops all night, you decide to return the favor, licking at the seam of his lips as you hook your fingers in his front loops and pull him closer. He laughs against your lips and pulls back to meet your eyes. “That’s my move.”

“I liked it, so I think I’ll steal it,” you smirk, tugging at the loops still.

“We should probably get our things and head out before I do something stupid and incredibly irresponsible,” he chuckles though there is a very real edge to his tone like he’s trying hard to behave himself right now.

“What kind of stupid and irresponsible things?” you test him, releasing his belt loops to hook your index finger into the waist band of his pants instead, “I might be interested.”

The hand on your hip squeezes and he bites out a laugh. “Who’s the delinquent now?”

“Still you, but I recounted those bags because I kept getting interrupted by steamy office fantasies popping into my head so if you’d rather take me home before we make questionable decisions, we should probably leave now.”

He groans, torn between having to wait or giving in and having you right here, right now. The cons would be that it’s A.) your work place, B.) it’s not the cleanest place to hook up, and C.) he has to wait when his body is begging him otherwise.

As luck has it, you decide for him.

“Can we go to your place? My roommate is home tonight and she’s got hard rules against hooking up when the other is home. She doesn’t even really like when I have friends over but her name is on the lease so I don’t argue much.”

Mingyu shuts off his internal debate processing, grateful to have you choose for the both of you. “My roommates work the late shift at the bar on 89th so they will probably come home at some point but they don’t care about guests…or girlfriends. We respect that rule in regards to privacy.”

“Ugh,” you rolls your eyes, relaxing in his hold, “That must be so nice. Got an extra room at your place?”

“Got plenty of space for you in mine,” he smirks, “Alright let me grab our bags from the locker room and we’ll get out of here. Did you drive?”

You shake your head, moving to turn off the audio system, “No, I took the bus today.”

“Sweet, we’ll take my car home and won’t have to worry about leaving yours.”

It’s funny how you’re both being so casual at the moment as if you weren’t pinned up against the desk, debating whether you should desecrate the business office, and now you’re both going about your normal routines as if you didn’t just agree that you’re leaving to go directly to his place to hook up for the first time. 

It catches up with you when Mingyu pulls up to the front of his shared beach house and cuts the engine. You look at the light blue house and catch the subtle sounds of the ocean not far off. “I had no idea you lived on the island,” you share as you get out of the car and walk together toward the door. 

Mingyu hands you the key and takes your bag so you can open the door. “Yeah, we’ve been here about a year now. Used to share a condo a little further in but we spend a lot of time at the beaches here so when this place opened up we snagged it as quick as we could.”

Pushing inside, it’s exactly what you imagine a triad of bachelors to live in. Everything is clean but the couch is a futon, there are two cd towers filled with music you’d love to check out, a few bean bag chairs, a stereo system big enough to take up half a wall, and theres a couple of empty corona bottles spread on the low table in the living room next to a few gaming controllers. 

Mingyu groans when he sees them and glances over apologetically. “I definitely asked them to clean those up when I left this morning. You’d think a couple of bartenders would know how to recycle empty beer bottles. I swear we have manners.”

You laugh and follow him to what you assume is his bedroom down the hall. He opens the door and drops both bags next to his dresser before flicking on a lamp. “Wasn’t expecting to bring you back here so I am glad my cleaning habits are something of use,” he pulls open a drawer and grabs a random t-shirt before handing it to you, “Here, you can wear this if you want and I’ll show you where the bathroom is…I just uhhh..I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable changing out of your uniform.”

You raise a brow at him, “What? My Dickies and pinstrip ref polo aren’t sexy enough for you?”

He smirks back, “Anything you wear is sexy enough for me but the sex and dating column in Cosmopolitan’s spring magazine says a woman’s comfort comes before all else and is the key to a healthy, thriving relationship.”

“You read Cosmo?” 

He shrugs, “Had to pick my mom and sister up at the hair salon and got there on time which was apparently thirty minutes early. There was nothing else to do.”

“Learn anything else?” you ask just before he leaves you at the bathroom door.

Mingyu tugs the frosty bleached tips of his hair. “Learned six new ways to accesorize with butterfly clips and that my horoscope for last month was only half correct,” he grins, “Let me know if you need anything, babe, i’m gonna use the other bathroom to clean up.”

You mumble back an OK and shut the door, bumping into the counter. “Babe?” you repeat quietly, looking at yourself in the mirror. 

The reality of you having a super-hot-hockey-player boyfriend who is also insanely sweet and volunteers his free time to coach a youth league, and is an amazing kisser, and the kind of guy that calls you babe, crashes into you completely and you’re scrambling to clean yourself up, change, steal some mouthwash, and give yourself a full pep talk before you emerge god knows how long later. 

Following the same path back to Mingyu’s room, you pause at the door and take a deep breath before re-entering his space. 

He’s laying in his bed tossing a small blue ball up and down with one hand while he waits. You’re pleased to see that he decided not to put a shirt on, lounging only in a pair of basketball shorts, because you also decided to ditch half your clothing. The opposite half.

The ball lands in his palm with an audible smack and he looks up when you step into his room, closing the door behind you. 

“Wait right there,” he throws out a hand as you take a step closer and you hesitate, “I just want to burn this image into my memory for all of eternity.” 

Rolling your eyes with a soft laugh, you walk the rest of the way over to Mingyu who reaches for your hand and pulls you up onto his bed to straddle his lap comfortably. His hands move up and down your thighs and he’s smiling at you all the while. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighs and then shakes his head when you try to brush him off. “Genuinely. I’m not just saying that to get in your pants. You’re not even wearing pants to get into.”

He’s amusing and captivating when he’s like this, hands exploring every inch of exposed skin, chest pressed against yours, his face turned up as he looks at you with that white-hot gaze. It further drives your need to touch and feel him so you wrap your arms around his shoulders loosely, letting your fingers dance over the muscle in his back. 

Mingyu’s eyes flutter closed, only for a moment as your nails trail over his spine, and you smile to yourself, overjoyed with the feeling of his body beneath yours.  

“This feels a little surreal,” you speak quietly and he hums in response, setting his eyes back on your face, “I mean…”

“Ahhhhhh,” he grins, lacing his fingers together where his hands rest on your lower back, kept warm under your shirt, “Because you’ve been dreaming about me every night since we met?”

“Something like that,” you sigh and Mingyu shuts up, not expecting you to give in so easily. You pinch the hair at the nape of his neck tugging it nervously, “You should probably kiss me before I say something even more embarrassing.”

Mingyu chuckles and his eyes dip to your mouth. He captures your lips easily, moving his hands against the planes of your back as he kisses you until your mind clouds over. 

His hair is soft between your fingers, the silly frosted ends tickling your skin when you give a little experimental tug. Wonwoo teased him endlessly for falling for the fad but you had to admit you liked it on him. 

You’d probably like anything on him though. Besides, it wasn’t long before Wonwoo broke down and tried it too albeit a bit more subtle and less Backstreet Boys. 

Mingyu braces his forearm behind your hips and tugs. His skin is hot and he keeps you still against him, not like you plan on shifting away, but the need to be touched, held…anchored to him is met without needing to ask. It feeds into your confidence allowing you to move more freely, rolling your hips, arching your back until your chest is pushing into his and he just can’t stand the fabric in the middle. 

The shirt he’d given you doesn’t even fully hit the ground before his arms are wrapped around your body again and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips trailing over your throat, shoulders, collar bones. Whatever he can reach without letting go. 

A sharp gasp hits the air when his tongue dips to the base of your throat and he closes his lips over that same spot with a kiss. Thighs trembling, you hope he doesn’t comment on the pathetic way your cunt squeezes around nothing. He says nothing though. Instead, he groans deep in his chest and his hands tighten possesively. 

Then he does it again, and again. He encourages your real, raw reactions, full intending to pull them from you until you let go of whatever mental block is keeping you from letting him know exactly how much you love the way he makes you feel. 

Pretty soon he succeeds and you’re no longer trying to hold yourself together, holding your breath, or trying to be quiet. 

Mingyu drags his teeth along your collarbones and grins at the soft hum you let out, so at odds with the way your body jumps at the sharp sensation. 

“You like that, huh?”

It take an extra few seconds to process his words, brain near mush from his attention.

“So you do like it,” Mingyu laughs, pecking a small kiss to your shoulder, “What else do you like?”

You’ve only just now formed a response to his first question and now he’s asking another and he’s smirking. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose…

Your mouth pops open to say something, what that might have been, you’ll never know because at the same time, Mingyu leans back a little and drags your hips over his, grinding his erection against your sensitive cunt. “You like that?”

At this point, you give up on words and just nod your head fervently. Yes, I fucking like that.

His hands ghost up your sides until his thumbs are brushing against your breasts. He pauses, testing the water before diving in, and he catches the hitch in your breath. The way your head drops back just a touch like all this is making you a little dizzy. He leans forward and presses a kiss against your sternum before falling back against the pillows to take in the full picture. 

You, perched in his lap with your back arched, pushing your aching breasts into his hands to play with. It’s the exact shit he’s fallen victim to in a wet dream but this is real and far better because here you are, in the flesh, gripping onto his wrists and rocking your hips against him for an inkling of relief from how much he’s turned you on.

It’s wearing his patience down and is going to bite him in the ass if he doesn’t move things along. He prematurely finished one time and it still haunted him at night. Never again.

Hopefully.

Mingyu makes a miraculous maneuver, with you landing on your back at his side, somehow, without twisting or pinning someone’s limb in the process. 

“That was very smooth.”

You’re staring back up at him in wonder, partly because you’re not used to being tossed around like that, but also because he’s looking down at you with a serious, heated expression and it’s making your heart beat a little too fast.

“Can I touch you?” he askes softly and you’re immediately nodding. “Yeah?” he mimics the motion in a daze, eyes glued to your mouth, “Come here.”

Easy. You kiss him, well, it’s pretty equal efforts but you get to him first, too impatient to wait even half a second more. His hand moves over your hip slowly, then shifts to brush against your naval where he rests it for a moment, heat from his skin seeping into yours. 

He’s planning on making good on his request, though you beat him to it again. 

Mingyu parts his lips with a sigh when he feels your hand slide over his. Your fingers curl around his palm and you guide his hand lower. He asked to touch you and then made you wait - whether it be on purpose or just his own nerves - you’ll help him help you.

He doesn’t seem to mind and rewards you instantly with his thick fingers rubbing against your cunt through your panties. Your mouth falls open with a soft moan and his brows knit together right as the sound hits his ears. His gaze is unwavering and you almost wish he would just kiss you again instead of studying your face this closely…then his middle finger presses down a little harder and the sound you let out that time makes the corner of his mouth turn up into a half-smirk. 

It doesn’t even slip away when he leans down and kisses you, his smirk still obviously tugging at his lips when they touch yours. His hand pushes inside your underwear and he groans into your mouth when he feels how wet and warm you are but he doesn’t have time to waste or savor the feeling because he needs you to cum on his fingers at least once before he fucks you and his will to wait it out is all but gone. 

You’re responsive to every stroke, gasping and whimpering, digging your nails into his arm. Your back arches up off the bed every time he pumps his fingers faster, rubbing them up against your g-spot with expert ease because, hell yeah he reads cosmo, he’s too fucking good at it to not have been guided by the devine-feminine mind. 

Mingyu’s mouth envelopes one of your nipples and his tongue rolls against it at almost the same pace and pattern he’s rubbing your own slick into your clit and that’s enough to send you over the edge. He tries to be patient, to let you come down before he goes reaching for a condom but he catches the time on his digital alarm clock, the numbers glaring at him in bright red. 

It was already past midnight meaning having the house to himself is ending relatively soon. 

You don’t need the extra recovery time though, in fact, it’s the opposite. What you need is more and you need it now. “Mingyu…” he hums in response and you will your mouth to work again, “Do you even play basketball?”

He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. Poking your tongue in your cheek you nod and point to his shorts, “...Off.”

Mingyu grins as he leans down and kisses you before rolling out of bed and your lips turn up into a smile, a breathless laugh floating up into the air. He drops his shorts and steps out in white Calvin Kleins stretched taut over his golden thighs, showing off every inch of his assets, and you have to prop yourself up on your elbows to even get the full picture.

Move over Marky Mark. 

You’re too busy staring at Mingyu’s body to notice him taking the opportunity to appreciate yours. It’s just a brief moment to sate both your curiosities because though neither of you would prefer to admit it, you’ve thought about each other naked and probably more than once. Getting handsy on your date gave you a bit of an idea but the overwhelmingly obvious dick print staring you in the face at the moment confirms your indecent theory about what Mingyu might be packing…

And that has got to be the ‘Pony’ Ginuwine was singing about.

When your eyes meet somewhere in the middle, you both turn away quickly, embarrassed only slightly for getting caught. It was a good feeling to know that the attraction is mutual. You hear a drawer close softly and feel the dip in the bed when he slides under the covers next to you. Rolling over, you land almost nose to nose and Mingyu grins, “I like it when you check me out.”

You answer him with a kiss that starts out innocently enough but it’s such a dizzying sensation to be so wrapped up in him that whatever witty retort you had been thinking of is lost in the way his fingers squeeze into your side. He sighs against your lips when he drags you closer and your thigh settles high on his hip, wrapping your body around him tightly. Without thought or hesitation, he drives his pelvis forward, rubbing his erection into your sensitive cunt. 

It makes you break for air, drawing too much of it into your lungs just to sharply moan through the exhale when he doesn’t stop. The muscles in his arms are so taut beneath your fingers that you know he’s not doing it to tease you - he’s at his breaking point and really just can’t help himself.

One hand slides down and pushes against the waistband of his briefs, rolling the material down as best you can until it catches his attention so his can finish the job himself. He groans, mostly to acknowledge your intentions, but also because he’s slowly trying to reel himself back for a moment. Just long enough to peel the last bits of clothing off you both and get a rubber on. It’s probably one of the most ridiculously inconvenient things he’s been made to do in a long time.

Neither of you say a word as he rips open the foil, trying to keep his hands still enough to roll the condom on correctly. It feels like static in his veins, trying to sit still when everything inside his body is screaming go, go, go! You can feel it too, the buzz of anticipation, the pulse between your thighs. 

Then, there is a pause after he rolls back over, covering your bare body with his own, and he just looks at you for a moment, mouth tight. Your hands slide over his arms, up his shoulders, and settle on his face. “Everything ok?”

“Just wanna do this right,” he whispers back, turning his face to kiss the palm of your hand. 

The corners of your lips lift in a small smile. “Feels pretty right to me, if that helps.”

The tension in his shoulders melts away and he relaxes his pinched brows. “It does help,” he says, one big hand stroking the outside of your thigh around his waist, “Just…talk to me if there is anything you want or don’t like.”

“I will,” you reassure him and he eyes you wearily one more time until you sigh, “I promise.”

That seems to be enough for him as he shifts between your legs and you let your hands fold over his shoulders, trying hopelessly to relax your body when you feel his fingers on you again. He doesn’t keep them there long, just enough to make sure you’re still wet before he’s gripping his cock, guiding himself into your heat. 

The pressure is immense and Mingyu feels you tense up beneath him. He pulls his other arm up and shifts his weight over to one side, grabbing your face with his free hand. “Breathe,” he says quietly, tipping your face up to look at him, “Just breathe, baby.”

Easier said than done but you exhale shakily and his thumb brushes against your cheek. Mingyu draws his hips back slightly and pushes further in, eyes falling to your mouth when it pops open. The feeling of fullness is all encompassing and all you can think about. So full you might burst at the seams but again, you will yourself to relax and he finally, finally bottoms out.

You let out a sharp breath and just can’t seem to catch it. 

Mingyu seems unsure of whether he should move or not and he barely gets the question out before you’re nodding. The first few thrusts are still tender and he’s still mindful of that but after a minute or so, the tides turn and you’re digging your heels into his backside, pulling him deeper. 

Mentally, emotionally, physically deeper. 

He’s a romantic through and through, including in times like this where he’s drunk on pussy and pure infatuation. He can’t get enough. The way you feel around him, clinging to his body, hands against his chest, eyes glued to his. He’s in severely dangerous territory and clamps his lips shut until the words sitting there fizzle out. Patience is what he needs. In his mind and in his heart.

His body is on an entirely different page. 

Mingyu is smooth and consistent in his movements, like water in and around you. His name spills from your lips reverently, whispered into the air between you and it feeds him, pushes him to fufill your needs in a way you knew deep down he would. He’s a pleaser in every way. 

So, when you slow him down with your palms firmly planted against his chest, he stops and listens. His attentiveness almost makes it harder to speak.

“Can I uh…like would you mind if I…laid on my stomach?” you ask unevenly, not really sure why you’re hesitating to share what you want when that is what he’s asked of you.

Mingyu looks like he’s died and gone to heaven. He doesn’t even answer. Carefully, he pulls out and moves so he can roll you over, prop your hips up, and fill you right back up. This time there is no slow start. His hand settles on your back, just between your shoulder blades, and he holds you there, pinning you in place in such a way that your eyes close on contact. Perfectly content to stay put.

The room is filled with lewd noises. Skin slapping against skin. Deep grunting and moaning sounds mixed together. Your muffled voice chanting his name over and over again. Mingyu’s quiet praises tickling your ears when your head turns fuzzy. 

It’s a good thing no one is home because it’s almost embarrassing how loudly passionate you both are. You regret not asking Mingyu to turn on the radio to drown out the noise but it’s too late now and with another tug upwards on your hips, he’s stroking your walls just right and you hit an entirely new set of notes. 

Mingyu can feel you squeezing around him, mewling into his pillows and he’s hanging on for dear life because you’re still skirting around the edge and he’s seconds from toppling over. An idea pops into his head, a catch twenty-two really because in doing this, he puts himself at further risk of finishing first but it’s still too enticing to pass up. 

Somehow, he manages to roll your bodies together until he hits the mattress, successfully claiming his spot as your big spoon. He hooks his left arm under your head so that it’s rested on his bicep while his hand is free to roam your chest and his right arm snakes over your hip before you feel his middle and ring finger slip between your folds. 

With you tightly wound up in his hold he picks up a brutal, finishing pace. He hits all the right spots and works your body until you’re seeing stars. Your breathing now harsh and uneven limits your ability to speak but you don’t need to say anything at all. 

Mingyu knows your coming and he’s going right along with you. When your orgasm hits, you bear down against him, crying out in broken sounds as he pumps his hips through his own release. He continues to hold you against his chest, gently kneading at the fleshy part of your hip. 

He presses kisses against your hair and then carefully, he pulls out before rolling you onto your back. Mingyu’s smile is adoring and beautiful, it makes you want to bury your face in the pillows again. The blanket will have to do. 

“Why are you hiding?” Mingyu chuckles, grabbing at the blanket, “Was it that bad?”

You flip the sheet down and give him a blank stare. 

“Shut up,” you bite, a hint of a smile appearing, “You know it was good. Better than good.”

“How good?” he smirks. 

With an eye roll, you pull the blanket up just high enough to cover the lower half of your face. “Really fucking good…and you’re not even slightly winded.”

He’s on top of the world. 

“My stamina is just another one of my many desirable qualities,” he half-shrugs, “If you’re still not in love with me, I’m happy to keep trying.”

“Will you stop when I do?”

“Not a chance,” he grins, one hand squeezing your thigh as he swoops in to steal another kiss, “Stay with me tonight. I’ll make you anything you want for breakfast”

You pretend to think about it when you know you’ll say yes, and not just because you don’t have a car. A sleepover? With your hot boyfriend? Who just rocked your world and will probably do it again and then cook for you in the morning? Yeah, that’s a no-brainer.

“I could probably be convinced if you find me something comfy to wear and have a spare pack of noodles…I’m starving.”

Mingyu jumps out of bed, the sight of his bare cheeks making you turn and giggle. “I’m about to make you the best noodles of your life,” he walks over to his dresser pulling out underwear for himself, a clean t-shirt, and blue-plaid pajama pants, then he tugs open another drawer and turns to you, holding out a big soft-looking jacket, “I think you’ll like this one. I don’t have any pants that will fit you but this is pretty long. Oooh,” he pauses, “I didn’t think about underwear when I-”

“Ruined mine?” you raise your brow teasingly, sitting up and making grabby hands for the sweater he tosses to you.

He scoffs, tip of his tongue poking at his teeth. “Yeah, that’s my bad.”

Your voice is muffled as you pull the sweater over your head before climbing out of bed, pleased that it indeed covers you well. “It’s okay. It’s not the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’ve learned to keep an extra pair in my bag.” You mention this so casually that he’s stunned when you walk over to grab said panties from your bag and kiss his cheek before turning to leave, “I’m gonna go clean up. Meet you in the kitchen for those mind blowing noodles?”

Mingyu hollers back as you near the bathroom door. “I’ll blow your mind in the kitchen alright!”

He slumps against the dresser when he hears you respond with, “I’m sure you will, babe!”

Babe. Ugh, you’re so it for him. 

The steam of the shower mixed with some kind of masculine aroma in Mingyu’s body wash gives off the same feeling of being in his arms and the thought warms your belly again. It’s almost embarrassing, how much you want him just after having him in full, but you’re sure he’d be happy to oblige even if you so much as hinted at it. 

Maybe he will blow your mind in the kitchen.

As you’re wrapping up and getting dressed you hear music, oddly loud for the hour but it’s vaguely familiar, still muffled by the sound of the vents running to air out the steam in the bathroom. Then there’s a crash, not earth shattering but enough that you’re slightly concerned. You hurry to hang your towel and pull on your clean underwear and his sweater when you hear another bump against the wall. Then…singing?

“Kiss meeee out of the bearded bobby~”

“NIGHTLYYYY beside the greanbeann grass~”

You poke your head into the hallway, “Um…Mingyu?”

“SWIIINGG SWIINNG-”

“Swing the spinnnning stem~”

Definitely not Mingyu. Also, definitely not the right words to this song but your interest is piqued.

You come around the corner to find him in the center of the living room, quietly laughing, holding the hand of one of his very jovial (probably drunk) maybe roommates while the other (definitely drunk) maybe roommate is spinning around them in circles, bumping into things along the way. 

The one with bright blonde hair pokes Mingyu mid-spin, “You wear the shoes and I’ll wear a dressss~”

Then the his drinking partner joins in and their both belting out, “oOHHH Kiss meeee, beneath the melting twilight~”

Mingyu points to the blonde and shouts over the noise, “That one’s Hoshi.”

 “Lead meeee, out on the moonlit flooOr!”

He gestures at the one hanging off his arm, the tall boy with shaggy black hair, “This one’s Minghao. They’re plastered, obviously.”

They’re delightful and Hoshi is coming your way with a cat-like smile. He bows, almost stumbles, and reaches for your hand which you’re happy to share. “Lift your open hand…” he serenades, lifting yours into the air, “Strike up the band and make firefights dance silver moons sparkly~”

And he spins you away so quickly you almost stumble but Mingyu catches you around the waist with Minghao singing over your shoulder in a whisper, “So, kiss me.”

And Mingyu does, of course, he’s not going to miss the opportunity. Minghao grins, leaning against the wall to catch his balance, and Hoshi claps…a little bit like a buffoon but you really like them both. Mingyu must really love them because he doesn’t complain one bit about the noise and overly dramatic show, especially with it being your first impression. It helps that he knows how laid back you are and can see the delight still dancing in your eyes. 

He does however, turn down the music on the stereo so everyone can talk without shouting. 

“You do know you guys are supposed to be serving the alcohol…not drinking it…right?”

“Don’t be r- *hiccup* -rude!” Hoshi flaps his hand dismissively, “I’ll tell your pretty girlfriend about all the times we had to hold your hair back, our sweet little Mingoo ~”

Minghao giggles, bumping into Hoshi’s shoulder, “Or about how you,” he pauses, the two of them bursting into hysterics as Mingyu sighs like he knows what’s coming. Minghao wipes away a tear, still cackling, “About how you got totally tanked that weekend you first started working at Wheelie’s and whined alllll nighttttt-”

Hoshi whacks Mingyu’s shoulder laughing and then looks at you, “He wouldn’t shut up about you the entire night. Crying into his beer…because he thought you were dating the DJ.”

Your hand flies over your mouth, giggling up at your boyfriend who is being a really good sport right now. Even as he pokes his tongue into his cheek, shaking his head at his friends. 

“Vernon and I were never dating,” you fake sniffle, “Sadly.”

“Sadly?!” Mingyu swings his head around toward you, “I thought the soulmate thing was a joke?” he laughs.

“Oh, baby, it is a joke,” you reassure him, patting his chest gently but just when he relaxes you whisper, “Until it isn’t.”

Hoshi sticks out his hand as he’s stumbling toward the kitchen and you land a low-five as he goes, and one up top when Minghao follows behind him excitedly mumbling about making drinks for everyone, then Hoshi is shouting about noodles ‘for the love of god, we need more noodles!’

Mingyu sighs and you know he’s about to complain that he no longer has you to himself. Can practically hear it in your head already. So, you cut him off before he can start, tugging him down into a kiss hot enough to make him groan against your lips as his hands dip down to take handfuls of you. 

Then he’s laughing, falling out of rythym and you pull back, smiling. “What?”

You squawk in surprise when he smacks your ass and says, “You know you’re still not wearing pants, right?”

Actually, you forgot because of the whole song and dance thing. 

“That’s embarrassing,” you mumble, tugging his sweater further down your thighs, “I could go throw my work pants-”

“I can try to find you som-”

You both look toward the kitchen when music starts playing and Mingyu shakes his head, almost regretting stowing his portable radio in there for when he’s cooking. It’s quiet for a few seconds and then, like someone cranked the volume all the way up, it’s starts blasting and they’re both singing.

“Ooooh baby, baybay, b-baby, baybaby, oooh baby-”

Mingyu just laughs. “On second thought, don’t even worry about it. They aren’t going to remember anything tomorrow morning anyway.”

“I like them,” you grin.

His shoulder shake with mirth, “Of course you do.”

You giggle when one of the guys starts shouting the words and grab Mingyu’s hand, pulling him along behind you. “Come on, noodles, drinks, Salt-n-Pepa,” he fake groans and you squeeze his hand, “This is the most fun I’ve had at a sleepover in years.”

Then he’s grinning, “Well, we can make it a regular thing if you want.”

You turn, just before you get to the kitchen and push up to kiss his cheek, “Whatever you say, Hot Wheels.”

“Oh, come on,” he drags his feet after you, “Can we pick a new nickname?!”

“Sure. Come on, Coach Kim. Let’s go play in the kitchen.”

He stumbles a step and shakes his head. “Am I supposed to pretend it doesn’t make me kind of horny when you call me that? God, please don’t hold that against me. I am only a man.”

Oh? Good to know. “Whatever you say, Coach.”

Thanks for reading! 💖

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→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

[hoshigray]

Hello (◍•ᴗ•◍)

I really like your work it's so good!! And i saw your request is open soooo

Can i request delinquent/bad boy sukuna x student council president reader? Like they hate each other bc reader is very strict with the rule while sukuna just break it anyway. One day, sukuna saw the reader in a party which make him confused bc reader is not the type to do fun stuff. And moments later they fuck

Sorry if this is a very detailed request. Feel free to ignore it or change it :3

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh my, another sukuna req! things bout to get hot, hehe~

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; Sukuna and you are college seniors - blackmail - fingering (f! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! receiving) - facials - use of a phone; sexual photography - impact play (spanking) - full nelson position - degradation (cumslut, pig, slut, whore) - humiliation - overstimulation - pet names (brat, princess, woman) - dick piercing (frenulum) - usage of drugs & alcohol - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

Sukuna was grinning ear to ear as he marched his way toward you. “Y/n.”

You perked at your name, and your face contoured to brief shock before shifting to mild annoyance. “Sukuna.”

Running into you at a huge party was the last thing Sukuna expected to see. But it’s a situation he will take advantage of expeditiously. 

College is hard enough being the top dog of the student government association and trying to juggle senior classes. It is your job to keep the school and its students in order, maintaining a pretty face as it’s been doing decently for the several years before you. The entire student body knows you take your job seriously, earning the respect they give you with every step you take and being praised by professors and faculty alike — even being invited to have dinner with the university president along your association! 

But of course, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows because there are always downsides to the good — one of them being a ginormous thorn to your being. 

Ryōmen Sukuna is a man you’ve been dealing with for almost four years. Known for his intimidating cadence whenever he walks the halls, the brutality of his moves as he’s the famous trump card of the school’s jiu-jitsu club, and his cold and demeaning manner of speech when talking down to others he deems beneath him, he is regarded at the campus’ “demon dog.” Someone that many can never believe is the older brother of the freshman track star sweetheart, Yuuji Itadori.

He is a person that many say is the complete opposite face when compared to you, a fact you have no choice but to agree with a twitching brow. Looking through all the disruptive students you’ve dealt with, Sukuna would be crowned King for being the most colossal nuisance of your life. Whether it be reporting him to the campus police for picking fistfights with the juniors, smoking in smoke-free zones, adding more tattoos to his face and arms, or willingly trashing places because he thinks he can, no one has been more subject to give you more grey hairs. He just doesn’t listen — he won’t listen! 

And the worst part is that he enjoyed making your life a living hell. God, he’s such a fucking bastard, not wanting to deal with outside of your academic life.

…Until you two see each other from across the living room where a huge party is held in one of the off-campus apartments, perplexed crimson eyes locked on with widened ones, too shocked to take a sip of your drink from your red solo cup. You immediately turned to the group before you, hoping the sea of kids and the bouncing bass could distort your image from his vision. 

Too late; the salmon-haired senior couldn’t hide the grin on his face as he slithers past people to get to where you are. Students move out of the way for him to move, the group you were hanging with gasps with wary stares, and Sukuna taps your bare shoulder. 

“Never figured the student government president would be here,” his voice was chilling as always. Yet you remain a neutral face when facing him. “Something tells me there isn’t apple juice in that solo cup.”

The group you were hanging out with instantly excused themselves to somewhere else in the apartment, leaving you alone with Sukuna. You rolled your eyes, “What is it, Ryōmen?” You feel disgusted as his red eyes scan your figure, taking in the off-shoulder, long-sleeved bodycon dress you were wearing. True, you don’t wear stuff like this all the time, but you can’t expect this bastard to have any amount of decency or subtlety. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, prez?” God, you hated him calling you that, knowing good and damn well what your name was — but, again, why would he bother; not respecting you enough to do something simple as that. “Isn’t this kind of thing what you’re against for and all?”

“Hmph, am I not allowed to have some fun at a party I was invited to?” You furrowed your brows and took an aggressive sip. “Besides, this is off-campus housing; the property owners are the ones who’ll have anyone’s asses if stuff breaks or cause disruption against the codes.” 

“Oh, so the uptight President is off duty this time? Hmm, ain’t that something,” he leans against the wall beside you with crossed arms. Your gaze was averted to the crowd bumping and grinding rather than acknowledging the delinquent examining you. “I figured you’d be somewhere pulling your panties to some poor bastard.”

“Watch your tone when talking to me, Ryōmen,” you finally send him a glare through your peripherals. It humored him, a devilish chortle you could hear even through the loud bass. “Lucky for you, I’m only here to have a good time with some friends before heading home to assignments. So, do me a favor and don’t start shit for me to take home and stress over.” 

He lifts a brow, “Is that so? Miss Prez came to let loose, huh.” You didn’t like how he said that — nor how he moved to lean closer to you. His cologne disrupts your nostrils. “Never thought you had that side of you.”

“There are many things you don’t know about me, Ryōmen,” you swing your cup around with a scoff. “And I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

And you thought you’d win this round as Sukuna doesn’t say anything to you for a few seconds. However, the man goes through his pocket to pull out his phone to pull up something. And when he finds it, he flashes the screen to your direction. “You mean things like these?” You turn to look at the device, and your eyes go wide with an agape mouth. What he was showing were photos — a whole lot — of you. 

“You know, I’m sure it must be hard being president of the student body; that’s why I don’t envy you,” one photo shown is of you smoking in the Honors Lounge with a few of your student government associates, an action undoubtedly prohibited within the facilities. “So, I can’t blame you when you decide to settle down and let yourself go for a minute,” he swipes his finger to pictures of you drinking liquor with some other students who smoke blunts and have weed plastered on the coffee table. “However, you really outta be careful with what you’re doing, Y/n; you got people who look up to you and expect so much from you.” Another picture shows you at some dark nightclub with a guy friend, shoving middle fingers and sticking tongues out at the camera. 

Your lips quiver with every swipe, and lips quiver, “Wh…Where did you get those…”

“Hmm? I can’t share that information. Heh, plus, I like to keep tabs on those who can get on my nerves,” he stuffs the phones back into his dark jean pocket. “But I can’t lie; the more I look at those pictures and compare them to the little president that nags too damn much, I can’t help but wonder what would happen if someone were to leak these out for the whole school to see. Which would drop quicker: your presidential scholarship and accolades or your reputation?”

“You fucking asshole…!”

You swiftly throw your cup at Sukuna, but the pink-haired man dodges easily and grabs your wrist — the poor guy behind him gets drenched with your drink. “Hey!” The guy grabs Sukuna’s shoulder and is immediately met with the infamous death glare. “…My fault, bro, don’t worry about it. I’ll go dry off,” the student says while backtracking away from those fearsome eyes. 

You’re trembling with vexed shakes; the hand on your wrist holds you tight with no sign to let go unless necessary. Otherwise, you know he’ll break it if you make one wrong move. “…What the hell do you want from me?“

Now Sukuna has you in the palm of his hand — his sinister grin growing as he leans closer to be inches away from your face. “My apartment is on the top floor; you have ten minutes to get your ass up there,” you don’t move a centimeter when he draws near your ear to whisper. “I’ll show you how to really get loose, Miss President.”

The words felt like sharp daggers to your throat, “You…devil.”

He snickers into your ear, “Pick your poison, and you’ll see just how much of a devil I can be.”

And with that, Sukuna straightens himself up and heads out, his frame disappearing deep into the crowd till you can’t see him anymore. Your heartbeat goes at a pace way too irregular to call ordinary, and your blood too cold as it has your skin suffer in shivers. 

This was a nightmare — an absolute, horrifying nightmare. There’s no way the guy that you hate with your very guts just blackmailed you! This was not how this night was supposed to go; now your whole reputation — what you’ve built with your own two hands — is being held in front of you and is dependent on going to this asshole’s apartment. Who the hell does he think he is!?

You didn’t want to go. You wouldn’t go! Especially under the premise of that fucker, playing with your life like some toy. Your thoughts were inner turmoil, challenging your morals and conscience on what to do. Your pride was trying to pull up a good fight, holding onto whatever dignity you have to validate not going up on the elevator and seeing Sukuna for what he’s about to do to you. They’re just pictures; people will think they’re edited or question if they’re valid!

However, the fact that you spent five minutes going back and forth with this suggests those were anything but pictures. He had ammunition to bring you down — to humble and look down on you — and have everyone do the same, no matter what you could say to justify yourself. So, swallowing your ego, you exit the party and walk the hallway down to the elevator. Every floor you ascended made you feel small, and when the doors opened for you to step out and you saw him leaning on his door waiting for you, your fate had been sealed. 

The same smirk he had at the party was plastered on his face. You were no longer in control of the situation; you are now in his domain — and you should follow his commands to keep up.

“Gahhh! Mmmph, Ryooo, stop—Eeek! Y’re hitting so ha—Ahhh!”

“What? You thought I was going to be easy with you? After all those times you’ve pestered me to no end? Hah, think again, prez.”

Being in the same space with Sukuna is something you never comprehended happening civilly in all your years of knowing him. Now, being laid on top of his knees as he sits on the edge of the bed is jarring in its own sentence. The skirt of your dress was pulled up, your ass and panties out for the cool air to caress. Not until Sukuna rips you off your underwear and starts giving your bare butt unforeseen strikes. The impact of his hand was so harsh that you gripped his jean-clad leg with a scream. 

He goes about this for a solid five minutes, giving your asscheeks slaps – and your cries have him chuckle and do some more. And you can’t squirm out of his hold, or else he’ll dent the skin of your butt with his fingertips, piercing into the tense muscle to inflict pain like no other. God, it hurt so bad, every smack taking your breath away. 

“Look at you,” he coos, rubbing his hand on the hot skin. The pain was so bad to the point of your eyes watering; simply hovering his Hand over you was enough to have you in shudders. “Whatever happened to the poised and resilient Y/n who’d always dare threaten me for my behavior? This person on me, screaming like a whore, can’t be the same Y/n.” 

You grit your teeth, turning over your shoulder to express your seething glare. “Who are you calling a whore, you fucking—Deeeii! Ohhh!” Sukuna sneaks a forefinger inside your wet cunt, not bothering to warn you. “Wai—Tahhh! Take it out, take it out right—Noooh!!”

“Oh, don’t even think you’re in any position to tell me what to do, slut,” you bite your lip as he moves his finger into your vagina with such merciless vigor. “And with how you’re crying like a bitch, you sound pretty whore-ish to me.”

Oh, go fuck yourself! You could have told him that — but you didn’t because he squeezes in his middle finger to insert inside your tight chasm, both digits now rummaging inside your vaginal walls and scraping them to the point of drooling babbles on your part. You couldn’t think of anything, not when he’s still throwing smacks on your ass with his free hand. You can’t even wipe the spit that comes down your lips because he distracts you with more jabs to your inner walls and pinches to the skin of your butt. Fuck, fuuuck!!

And it gets worse when you feel his thumb dance around your asshole. “N–No, stop it, Sukuna! That’s dirty, don’t—Mmnaahh!!” He slips it inside without care; the pain of his thumb forcing inside your puckered anus almost has you shut down.

“That’s the point, prez,” he bites his lip with a pestilent snicker. “Gonna make you so fucking dirty tonight, wanna ruin that perfect image of yours that you don’t recognize yourself. He scratches your butt, resulting in you clamping onto his digits with a grip that feeds his ego. “Mhmm, just like that, princess.”

How dare he play with your ass like a toy and have the nerve to call you that? Such a sick man; the hate you have for him boils your blood to no end. “Ahhh, stoop, too fast, please, go slo—Mmmph!?”

He shoves two fingers in your mouth to stifle your cries. “That’ll keep you from squealing, fucking pig.” And he continues to toy with your slit and anus, your whimpers muffled by his thick fingers.

“Take it all in, Y/n, every single fucking inch, ya hear?…Mmmm, yeah, deep in your throat like that.” 

This. Is. The. Worst! There’s absolutely no way you’re sucking Sukuna’s cock right now; this is the very last thing you’d want to be doing! He’s standing with his dark jeans and briefs on his thighs, his hand on the back of your head to make sure your mouth remains on his dick at all times. If you could, you would’ve chewed the damn thing off and made a run for it. 

But you came here for a reason, so you keep your disdain at bay and begrudgingly suck on Sukuna’s glans, having the salmon-haired man purr from above you. And it doesn’t help that he holds his phone to take pictures of you and said add more to his collection. God, he’s so disgusting…

“Fhhh, fuck, that feels good,” he groans at you taking his girth. Your lips down to the hilt, burrowing his length deep into the warm, tight tunnel of your throat. “Who woulda thought the strict, by-the-book Y/n would take in dick so well?” You narrow your eyes at him as you bob your face up and down, earning a hearty chuckle from the pleased man. “That face of yours, baby, so furious with me, huh.”

You try to pay him no mind, distracting yourself with the task at hand by licking one of his balls before sucking them. Your hands increase in speed when stroking him, having the man above unable to stop bucking his hips to your fist for more enviable friction. 

“Shit, yeah, yes,” he throws his head back in bliss, and you can tell he’s about finished while feeling his cock pulsate under your touch. “Bring your face here.”

He does it for you – his hand on your head for a reason – and forces you close to his cock before he jerks himself for release. And his come exudes with a force, landing right on your face. You fight every fiber of your being to move away, accepting his essence to paint your cheeks, nose, and lips. It was unbelievable how disgracious he was, just plain selfish and unapologetically nasty. 

You hear the phone snap, throwing another scowl at the pink-haired responsible. “Lookin’ like a real cumslut for me, prez.”

And the worst part of all finally comes around — the thing you dreaded once you stepped out of that party and into that elevator.

“—Fffaaahh! Hooohshiiit! This is crazy—Eeeee!”

“Fuckin’ shit, you’re tight as hell, woman…Khhh…! Tryin’ to milk me dry, huh, Y/n…”

Sukuna lies beneath you with his legs bent away, his arms wrapped underneath your legs, and pushing them to your chest from behind. His cock is entombed inside your leaking slit as he thrusts up to you with every second, and the sound of your ass smacking onto his thighs fills the space.

He has his hands behind your neck, demanding you to look at the union of your sexes, and your face couldn’t get any hotter than watching the obscenity. He’s been fucking you for more than ten minutes now, his cum inside you from the last round stains a white ‘o’ around the base of him, and the sticky substance so vulgar to look at it stretching with his push and pull motions. And the squelching – the goddamn squelching! – it only furthered the fog clouding your mind.

There was no point concealing your wails; your lips were forced open with every jab from Sukuna. Jesus, he was so fucking big — your poor cunt stretched to accommodate his intrusion. You clamp onto him more when he pulls, the barbell piercing his frenulum and scraping your walls from the descent and grazing your G-spot.

“Fuck, fuuuck, hsssh…!” It was hard to concentrate on anything outside of this, and you couldn’t tell if you were speaking adequately or prattling like some sex-crazed fool. You sigh with rolled eyes when he sends sporadic ruts out of nowhere, clenching onto his shaft with a tug. 

It has Sukuna groan hotly, his breath steaming your skin. “Holy fuck, you really love gripping my cock, don’t you, princess?”

“I–I can’t help it! You keep ’n hit—Haishhh!” Your eyes meet the ceiling at the jab of your A-spot, the pressure making you feel full. “You—hic—…Yo’re the one m’king me like thisss…”

“Is that right?” He takes slow thrusts to draw out your pleasure; your broken howls were music to his ears. “Sounds like the to be enjoying yourself.” You hurriedly shake your head no, and he throws a bitter pound to your hypersensitive chasm. “Brat, why the hell else are you milking me like this for, then?” 

“Becauseee, it feels….Mmmm,” No, you can’t say that. Don’t tell him what he wants to hear.

“Hmm? Feels what?” You can hear the smirk on his lips. You don’t say anything except muffled hums, so he probes you, “You want me to send out those pictures, huh? Show just how much of a terrible president you are, how you love to go dumb on my dick?”

Of course not! “Do—Don’t you dare…!”

“Then answer the question: how does it feel, hmm? Tell me, how do you feel being fucked by the guy you hate so much?”

Oh, damn you, Ryōmen Sukuna! It was now you shed a tear, your hands grabbing for his forearms for purchase. 

“—Fucking ‘ell, it feels good,” you said it, your last bit of dignity finally thrown for the man to shred apart. “Feels ‘oo good, you make me feel—Geheehh…so damn good…!”

Oh, that was more than enough for him. Sukuna’s sneer becomes broader, and his chuckles are felt from your back. “What a dirty bitch for me, princess…”

His hips go back to an unsteady fashion, propelling his dick to his base, and the brushes of his piercing massage your walls too precisely. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to come crashing down on you with a scream, the walls of your cunt contracting around Sukuna for the third time that night. Your nails dig into his arms, and drool leaves your pretty agape mouth as he allows you to ride out your climax.

Sukuna whistles at the sensation of you fluttering on his girth. “Phew, damn, that was a good fuck. You know how to keep up with me, woman; you’d make a great pet.”

You were sick of him, gulping to wet your dry throat. “Delete…the fucking…pictures.” Your empty threat only has him click his tongue with a scoff.

“Not so fast there, prez; the fun was just getting good.” Your heart sinks to the soles of your feet. “So, be a good brat and know your place is under me tonight.

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[moonstruckme]

I’d love to see you write James and reader who’ve suffered the ‘never the right time’ trope, and finally, it’s the right time. It’s like so soft and just a moment of peace, like ‘finally, finally, it’s our time’. I have literally no ideas further than that, but I know you’d kill this Mae <3

hope you’re having a lovely day!

Thanks for requesting my love! Also, is that a new theme I see?? It's giving me renaissance vibes, like the clouds are going to part and there'll be an oracle and it'll be you ! I'm so here for it

cw: alcohol

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

Sirius and Remus keep fighting over who gets to play the music. Sirius more pointedly, tracking Remus down every time he has to change the record, whereas Remus just sneaks over while his boyfriend is occupied to switch it out again. Now Fleetwood Mac’s come on, and James can only assume Lily has finally stationed herself by the record player. 

A knock sounds at the door. Someone must have ordered pizza, he thinks. Anyone who goes to these things knows that Sirius always leaves the door unlocked. Being the closest to the door, James answers it. 

He thinks he stops breathing when he finds you on the other side, clutching a dissolving paper bag in both hands and nearly wet through. 

“Oh.” You look as surprised to see James as he is to see you. Which doesn’t seem strictly fair, because the last time he checked, he spends practically all of his time here and you live far away. Have since you took that cushy job right after school ended. “Hi, James.” 

“Hi.” His voice is mystified, tinged with the joy of the smile he can’t repress. “What’re you doing here, sweetheart?” 

“Remus invited me.” 

James stares at you. You look somehow exactly the same and yet impossibly more beautiful than he remembers. It’s odd seeing you out of your old school uniform, in a very adult-like coat that comes down to your knees and ties primly at the waist. Your hair is slicked straight by the rain, stuck in damp tendrils to your shoulders, and he swears your face has changed, too, a droplet of rainwater curving over a cheekbone he doesn’t remember being as visible when you were younger. 

“Um, can I come in?” 

“Yes! Yeah.” He steps out of the doorway, and your shoes squelch slightly as you wipe them off on the rug inside the door. James looks around as if for help. He thinks he spots Remus’ head poking out of the kitchen, but then it disappears. “Here, let me take your coat.” 

“Thanks.” You undo the tie for yourself, letting James pull it off your arms. “It’s really good to see you.” 

“You too.” He’s beaming; he can’t stop. “God, I just can’t believe you’re here. Are you in town for a visit?” 

“No, I—” You pause to give him a bemused sort of smile. “Did Remus not tell you? I moved back.” 

James feels like his chest has been hollowed out. Like someone’s taken out his heart and put the sun back in its place. 

“Really?” It comes out more breath than word. He fumbles for his voice back. “You’re back for good?” You nod, biting down on a smile. “When did you get here?” 

“A couple weeks ago,” you say, looking down to step out of your shoes. 

“What?” James’ tone is doing nothing to disguise his astonishment. He’s in no state to try and conceal it. “And we’re not hearing from you until now? You’ve only spoken to Remus?” His hurt goes unvoiced: Why didn’t you come find me?

You look sheepish. “I just ran into him at the store yesterday.” 

“Why didn’t you call?” 

“I didn’t want to assume…” 

You look like you’re trying to shrink away, but James gives chase, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. The cold of your clothes and hair sinks into him, and you both shiver. He only holds you tighter for it, scrubbing a hand up and down your shoulder blade. 

“You should have called,” he says next to your ear. “You know we’ll always want you here, love. We’ve missed you.” I’ve missed you. 

“I missed you guys, too,” you reply, squeezing him back. The paper bag you’re holding digs into his spine. 

James gives himself a couple more seconds before he releases you, taking the bag and unearthing a bottle of wine. 

“Nice of you,” he acknowledges. “Sirius will appreciate it, he loves reds. We should get you warmed up, yeah? Do you want some of this, or I could make you a hot buttered rum?”

You look like you could melt in relief. “A hot drink sounds amazing.” 

“Great.” He grins at you, knowing you have to go but unwilling to let you. If you leave his sight now you might very well disappear for another several years. After a second, his better sense wins and he juts a chin towards the stairs. “Go find something to wear. It’s the last door on the left, and the closet across from the bed should have things that’ll fit you.” 

James sees your protests in your face before they start spewing from your mouth. “Oh, I shouldn’t—” 

“If you go into the kitchen all dripping wet, Remus will only bring you up there himself. Save yourself the time, love. He’d want you to help yourself, trust me.” 

You chew your lip, hesitant, but then another shiver takes you, and James gives you a good-natured shove towards the stairs. 

“Alright,” you capitulate, going. “Thanks, I’ll be right back.” 

“No hurry,” he calls up after you. Then high-tails it for the kitchen. 

“I cannot believe you’ve set me up for ambush like this,” he says as the door swings open for him. His two closest friends look up with expressions of equal guilelessness, though Sirius is putting on far more a show of surprise than his boyfriend. 

“I had no idea!” He insists while James stalks to the cabinet, helping himself to a mug and the supplies to make your drink. “Moony kept it from me, you know I’d have told you if I knew.” 

James glances up at him, then shakes his head, reaching over to flick the kettle on. “No, I don’t believe it. You’ve both been colluding against me.” 

“It’s only against you if it’s not good for you,” says Remus. “And I don’t see how y/n being here is all that bad for you.”  

“Yeah, I’d have thought you’d be fairly chuffed about it,” Sirius agrees, forgoing the innocent act as smirk curves his lips. 

“I am.” James blows out a breath. “I just wasn’t expecting to see her. I didn’t even know she’d moved back.” 

Remus shrugs, cracking open the oven to check on something inside. “Well, I think she might have been afraid to seek you out.” 

“Why would she be?” 

Amber eyes meet James’ with disbelief written all over them. “You know why,” he says softly. 

The kettle finishes boiling, and James turns to pour it over the contents of your mug. “Well, I directed her to Sirius’ closet as retribution.” 

He hears a gasp behind him. “You prick—”

The door to the kitchen swishes open, and you breeze in wearing one of Sirius’ hoodies. 

“Sirius!” 

“Hi!” He’s all smiles as he folds you into a hug, glaring sharply at James over your shoulder. “Fuck, haven’t you become stunning? It’s been awhile, gorgeous.” 

“It has,” you agree, looking slightly flustered by Sirius’ complimenting. Which, James notes, is an improvement over your school days; you were never able to weather it then. “It’s so good to see you.” 

You go to Remus next, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders fondly. “Glad you could come,” he says. 

“Thanks for having me.” Your eyes move between the three of them, seeming to note their placement throughout the kitchen. “Sorry, were you all busy talking about something?” 

“Actually,” Sirius says, “Remus and I were just canoodling when James interrupted, quite rudely I think. If you’re going to join the party, please take him with you.” 

“Alright.” James takes your drink and grabs a cider for himself, nudging you towards the door. “No need to be a dick, just come find us later.” 

Sirius winks at you both as James ushers you out, Remus sending him a long-suffering look from by the oven. 

“Nice to know some things don’t change,” you laugh, finding a space on the couch for you both. 

“Yeah,” James sets your drink down in front of you, “I doubt those two ever will.” 

“Thanks. Ooh, this is nice.” You take the clear mug between your hands, lifting it up to admire the liquid inside. “When did Remus get so posh?” 

“Well, Sirius lives here now.” 

“Oh!” Your eyes widen, surprise and maybe a little of something else. “Wow, that’s so lovely for them. Then, is this Sirius’ sweatshirt I’m wearing?” 

James chuckles. “You could tell, huh?” 

“None of those looked like Remus’ clothes. Are we punishing him for something?” 

He raises his own drink to his lips, hiding his smile. They’ve always come especially easily around you. “Perhaps.” 

You hum, take a sip from your mug, and hum again. “Shit, this is really good. Thank you.” 

The praise settles comfortably in James’ stomach, as warm and mind-fuzzing as if he’s had a gulp of your drink himself. “Anytime, sweetheart.” 

This time, he notices your eyes flicker away from his at the endearment. “So,” you say conversationally, “how’s Lily?” 

Ouch. James glances behind you to where Lily has pulled a chair over near the record player. She’s sipping from a glass of red wine that’s only a couple of shades darker than her hair, smiling at something Pandora’s saying. 

“She’s good,” he says. Then, somewhat abruptly, “We’re not together anymore.” 

Your eyes flit to his, something almost like guilt twinging across your features. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” you say. The caring in your face is nearly too much; James wants to take it between his hands and kiss it all over. “Are you okay?” 

He gives you a smile. “Yeah,” he says sincerely. Perhaps with too much feeling, because your eyebrows bunch slightly. “It happened a long time ago. Not long after you left, actually.” 

“Oh.” You nod, and James finds himself watching you more carefully than he normally might. He waits for the sense of bliss he’s feeling to find its way into your expression, but you still appear hesitant. “Can I ask if something happened? You just, you were together for so long…”

It’s true. Most people they knew, even Remus and Sirius, thought Lily and James would be married someday. In the end, it just seemed that they’d been together for so long that their relationship had become a routine instead of a choice. They were cohabitors more than partners, and when they were doing everything they could to spend time away from their shared home, Lily had been the only one brave enough to call them both out on it. 

“We just wanted different things,” James says. Namely, Lily wanted Mary and James wanted you. Had for too many years. 

You make a soft sound. “I suppose that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “So, come on—you’ve had my update, let’s have yours. How did you like your job?” 

You pair your shrug with a small smile. “Not very well, honestly. I don’t think I really fit there.” James tsks sorrily, and you shrug again. “It’s just as well. I missed you all too much. I wanted to give it a try there and I did, but I’m glad to be back.” 

“Ah, well,” James says. “I suppose that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” 

It’s a terrible joke, but you laugh, the sound like water trickling over stone. He feels the smile spread on his face. 

“I really have missed you,” he says, earnestness aching in the back of his throat. 

A similar sentiment reflects back at him in your eyes. “Same here.” 

“I’m glad you’re here.” 

“I’m glad I am, too.” 

“Would you want to get coffee tomorrow?” With anyone else the invitation would seem abrupt, but your smile looks something like relief. You’ve both been waiting for this for too long. 

“That sounds nice,” you say. 

“Great.” James can hear the love in his own voice. It’s probably written all over his face, too. Just as well. “There’s a new cafe by my place that has really good almond croissants, would you want to meet there?” 

You nod, not trying to downplay your happiness. His heart swells to see it. “I love almond croissants,” you say. 

James remembers. It’s one of the things he’s glad to know about you. There was a small, censured part of him that took satisfaction in knowing those things even when he was with Lily. It’s not something he’s ever been proud of, but a spark of that satisfaction comes back now. 

“Perfect,” he replies. Behind you, Remus is letting Sirius pull him out of the kitchen. Remus folds himself into an unoccupied chair, where Sirius happily sprawls across his lap. They’re both pretending not to be watching you. “How’s one?” 

“Not soon enough,” you say without hesitation. You take another sip of your drink, miming unconcern, but your eyes are playful. “Ten?” 

James feels like his face could split in half. “Ten it is.” 

[crystallinestars]

If They Were Your Pet Cat (Part 3)

This won the poll, so here is part 3. My HCs on what Gepard, Ratio, Dan Heng, and Sampo would be like as your pet cat.

I don't know what I'm doing anymore

Links to previous parts:

Part 1 (Genshin)

Part 2 (Aventurine, Argenti, Jing Yuan)

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

Gepard:

🛡️ Norwegian Forest cat

🛡️ Gepard is the most dog-like cat you have ever met. Much like a dog, he sees you off when you leave your house, and greets you when you return. He enjoys playing fetch more than chasing after a string, since it fetch gives him more of a workout. He’s also easy to train to perform tricks since he understands and obeys commands quickly. If you wanted, you could bring him to cat agility tournaments and do fairly well in the competition.

🛡️ He is incredibly loyal to you. While he’s welcoming and accepting of your loved ones and lets them pet him, he only listens to you. He doesn’t obey their commands the way he does yours. He might comply if your relative gave him an order to come here, but won’t do tricks and such for them. If you tell him to come here, roll over, play dead, etc… Gepard will comply without hesitation. He’s that trusting and loyal towards you.

🛡️ While to you Gepard appears harmless, in reality, he’s a force to be reckoned with, even for a house cat. If he sees you welcome someone into your home, he assumes the person is important to you, so he welcomes them in turn, albeit with some initial suspicion. That’s why he’s so accepting of your loved ones. However, if someone enters uninvited, especially if it’s someone he doesn’t know, Gepard won’t hesitate to growl and threaten the person to leave. His fur stands on end to make him look larger, and his teeth and claws are bared, showing that he means business. It’s usually enough to discourage anyone from trespassing. If not, then he’ll alert you with a loud yowl if you’re home, or go in for an attack. Furthermore, if someone makes you uncomfortable in your own home, Gepard senses your discomfort and is immediately at your side, ready to attack if the other person tries anything. He has no reservations about using his claws and teeth for the sake of protecting his owner.

🛡️ Due to his long and thick coat, Gepard requires regular grooming. Based on the somber expression on his cute little muzzle, you can tell he doesn’t enjoy being bathed and groomed, but he soldiers through it without struggle or complaint. As mentioned previously, he’s very loyal and trusting of you, so he understands that what you’re doing to him is not dangerous and is for his own benefit. Giving him praise about how much of a good boy he’s being, seems to help warm him up to the process.

🛡️ While he’s not a huge fan of being pet, but if you spend some time gently petting his head or brushing his fur, he will relax and accept the attention. He purrs and kneads at whatever is under him, clearly enjoying the experience. You try to give him gentle pets as a reward for waiting for you to come home and keeping watch of the house, and it works to deepen your bond with him.

🛡️ He’s vocal when with you. Gepard often communicates with you via chirps and low meows, using them as a means of calling you over for something. When you leave something cooking on the stove and forget about it, Gepard smells smoke and meows at you to come over and take care of it. If you haven’t unloaded the washing machine for a while, he calls on you to let you know its done. He just wants to help his owner stay on track.

🛡️ Once the two of you settle into a daily routine, Gepard expects you to maintain it. He’ll be unhappy if the pattern is broken. If you oversleep, Gepard is there to wake you up. He’ll meow and walk all over you until you get up and feed him. It’s great for when you sleep past you alarm since it prevents you from being late to work/school, but it’s not so fun on the weekends… Similarly, Gepard expects you to go to bed at the same time every night. He’s used to going to bed together with you, so if you stay up late, he’ll sit nearby and glare at you, tail twitching in dissatisfaction. If you don’t get his hint to abandon everything and head to bed already, then he’ll quietly meow to get your attention.

Ratio:

📘 Is a Bengal

📘 Ratio is an extremely intelligent cat, but he has a nasty attitude. He’s very prideful and stubborn, and despite your attempts to discipline and train him, he refuses to bend to your will. If anything, you’re the one bending to his. He’s not a troublemaker, but if you piss him off enough, Ratio can resort to knocking items off shelves or swatting at your face (with claws retracted, thankfully) in retaliation. If you scold him for his behaviour, he simply glares at you with his ears flattened to his head and tail flicking, as if daring you to say more. Everything about his body language screams he will swat you in the face if you say another word.

📘 If he messes up big time, such as breaking something important or accidentally nicking you with his claws, then Ratio accepts the scolding with a guilty expression. The flicking of his tail indicates he’s not happy to sit through your verbal lashing, but he’s smart enough to understand that what he did was bad for you. Despite his prideful attitude, the feline doesn’t want to cause you too much trouble, or so you like to think.

📘 You find out that Ratio is unusually intelligent for a cat soon after adopting him. He enjoys playing with cat toys that serve as a puzzle he must solve to get a treat. Ratio also observed how you open doors, and devised his own methods of opening them despite not having hands. He also likes to sit beside you on the bed or desk when you read books, in particular textbooks. As a cat, there’s no way he knows how to read, but you frequently catch him staring intently at the pages. It’s a mystery as to what is going through his mind during those moments, but it sometimes unnerves you how he seems to be studying the images. Aside from books, Ratio also enjoys watching TV, especially if it’s a documentary where he can observe various animals. He’s smart enough to know that what’s on TV is not in real life. If you bring something new home, Ratio takes time to thoroughly sniff and inspect whatever that something may be. He’s very curious and enjoys interacting with new things. That said, he also requires a lot of exercise. He’s a large and muscular cat for his breed, and requires ample space and playtime to run around and burn off excess energy.

📘 Despite being a cat, Ratio considers himself your equal, if not your superior. Back when you first got him, you had placed some cat food into a bowl on the floor for him while you sat at the table to eat. Ratio had expressed a clear dislike for this arrangement, climbing onto the table and angrily meowing at you. You expect him to eat kibble off the floor like a common cat, while you eat a freshly cooked meal at the table? Absolutely not. Know your place, human. After several consecutive sessions like that where he angrily yowled at you for constantly shooing him off the table, Ratio now eats at the table with you. He always waits to eat together with you, so if you skip on a meal or are late to eat, he’ll make his dissatisfaction with you known.

📘 On the topic of food, Ratio dislikes eating cheap cat food. He likes healthier cat food brands which usually end up being more expensive, but he especially likes it if you cook his meal yourself. Some cooked chicken, fish, or seafood make him a very happy cat. He’s a spoiled cat.

📘 Ratio dislikes loud noises, so if you have noisy guests over, he will usually hide. He developed a habit of sticking his head inside a small paper bag you had lying around, and wearing it on his head until the guests leave. You’re unsure if he’s trying to block out the noise or trying to hide, but one thing for certain is that he becomes very upset if you remove the paper bag from his head. The bag must stay.

📘 Ratio typically isn’t into being pet or cuddled, so such occasions with him are rare. He does, however, enjoy it when you scratch under his chin. He tends to close his eyes and purr when you lightly scratch under his chin. Another time he allows you to touch him freely is during baths. Ratio is probably the first cat you’ve ever met that loves baths. He seems to always be eager to hop into the tub and soak in the warm water. He lets you clean his body without complaint, seeming to enjoy the pampering. He’s patient while you dry and brush him, but he expects you to do a good job of grooming his fur. If you’re gentle enough with the brush, he might lean into it and purr in enjoyment.

Dan Heng:

🐉 Is a Dragon Li (I had to)

🐉 Dan Heng is a reserved cat. He prefers to spend time alone, away from the chatter and activity of people. You can often find him sitting by a window, pensively staring outside at the world beyond the glass. You can only wonder what he’s thinking about with such a somber expression. What kind of troubles do cats have on their minds?

🐉 If you have guests over, then Dan Heng hides. He dislikes crowds and loud noises, you’ve noticed. It’s rare for him to come out of hiding to meet guests. If he does, he tends to keep his distance and peers over the corner at whoever you have invited. Once his curiosity has been sated, he’ll leave without interacting with your guest at all.

🐉 Dan Heng is pretty antisocial, but he’s more amicable around you. While he doesn’t humor your guests when they try to play with him, when you’re the one dangling the cat toys or laser, Dan Heng engages in play with you. He also lets you get away with more than you think. He tolerates it when you play with his paws or rub his belly, even though he doesn’t actually like it. You’re also the only one he allows to pick him up.

🐉 Despite purchasing him a cat bed, Dan Heng doesn’t sleep in it. He acts a bit awkward around it, as if not knowing if it’s for him or not. He prefers to sleep on the floor, usually on a comfy rug. With some time and patience, you can coax him to sleep on your bed but know that he won’t snuggle up to you. Dan Heng will keep some distance between you and will lay at your feet. Even then, he’ll only lay on your bed if you’re settling in to sleep. During the day, he still naps on the floor.

🐉 Sometimes, you notice Dan Heng’s legs twitch and ears flatten when he sleeps, his fur standing on end as if he were terrified of something in his dreams. You’re uncertain if cats can have bad dreams, but Dan Heng’s reaction makes you think he’s having a nightmare. He seems dazed when he wakes from such episodes, and you wonder if he dreamed about something horrible from his days when he was a stray. You try to comfort him through these episodes by checking in on him and speaking gently, which seems to help calm him down. He follows you around for a bit after that, as if wanting to remain in your presence for a bit longer.

🐉 Despite how aloof Dan Heng is, you still know he cares about your well-being. If you’re having a bad day, he softens up to you. As if sensing your sadness, he comes out of hiding and remains by your side, sometimes even lying on your lap or chest. He allows you to pet and cuddle him if you need the comfort, and stays with you until you feel better. If you take medication, Dan Heng reminds you to take it on time if you forget.

🐉 Dan Heng keeps himself quite clean, and only needs an occasional bath and claw trim from you to keep him in perfect condition. He's surprisingly tolerant of baths. You thought he might struggle and run, but Dan Heng calmly handles the entire bathing process without so much as a peep. If you make fun of him for looking like a wet cat, Dan Heng will give you the most unamused look you’ve ever seen from a cat, and proceed to give you the cold shoulder for the rest of the day.

Sampo:

💣 Korat breed

💣 Cats are renowned for how quietly they walk, to the point their owners don’t hear them approach. It’s an amazing skill, yet somehow, Sampo manages to surpass the average cat in terms of stealth. While most cats still make noise when they accidentally knock something over when walking along cluttered surfaces or running around the house, Sampo doesn’t. He’s silent and careful about the way he moves, putting his feline brethren to shame. This skill of his comes at a detriment, however. You don’t hear him trail behind you when you do chores at home, and sometimes trip over him or step on his tail on accident. Sampo still hasn’t forgiven you for squashing his tail.

💣 He's a very intelligent and mischievous cat. Sure, he can do tricks in exchange for treats like a dog, but his intelligence goes far beyond that. Back when you first got him, there was a time when you were having dinner and Sampo came up to you and started to rub himself against your legs. He was very responsive when you leaned down to pet him, purring up a storm as you cooed at him. You were so engrossed with how cute and affectionate Sampo was acting, that you didn’t mind when he climbed up onto your lap for more affection. That was your mistake. While you were distracted with petting him, the furry scoundrel took the opportunity to snatch some food off your plate and made a run for it.

💣 He tried to use the same trick on you again, but it didn’t work a second time. However, he uses it fairly often on your guests. Despite your warning to not fall for his false charms, Sampo always manages to win your guests over and then unceremoniously yoinks their food from their plates when they least expect it. He has now been banned from the dining area when guests are over.

💣 Sampo has proven his cunning in other ways, too. Since the same tactic doesn’t work on you twice, the little furball devised another plan. He learned that you respond very effectively to his calls of distress, and so now when you have a meal, he goes into another room in the house and yowls in the most pitiful manner you have ever heard. His distressed meows make you abandon your food in favor of searching for your cat, concerned that something might be wrong with him. While you’re busy searching for him, Sampo slinks past you to where you were eating. By the time you come back after a fruitless search, you discover that half your food has gone missing.

💣 Sampo’s antics don’t end there. Once when you came home, you found your pantry raided and fridge open and emptied. The culprit was none other than your feline fiend of a pet—Sampo. You can’t fathom how, but he figured out how to open the fridge, among other types of doors. Of course, you gave him the scolding of a lifetime. He immediately started begging for your forgiveness by rubbing against your legs and staring at you with his big, green eyes as if begging you to not be angry at little ol’ Sampo. Despite sucking up to you, Sampo continued to steal food from the pantry, but in smaller quantities this time to not get caught. You still caught him in the act, though, and now have locks on all your cabinets and fridge to keep him out.

💣 Aside from food theft and manipulation, Sampo also has a habit of collecting various knickknacks around the house. He squirrels away anything that catches his fancy and that isn’t securely stored away where he can’t get into. He keeps his “treasures” in a small nook where he suspects you won’t find them, such as under your bed, behind the couch, or in a cluttered spot inside the closet. You only discover his secret stash when you do a deep cleaning of your home. There, in the dusty corner, are your missing hair ties, jewelry, candy wrappers, random string and other junk that you lost track of long ago. Sampo will be very upset if you confiscate these items.

💣 You can’t force Sampo to do something he doesn’t want. If you want bathe him and he hears the water running in the tub, he vanishes without a trace. If it’s time to go to the vet and he sees you get out the cat carrier, he disappears like smoke. He’s right next to you one moment, and then gone the next. No amount of “pspsps” or cat treats will coax him out of hiding. You can even turn the entire place upside down and still not find him.

[joelscruff]

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART TWO

You can read part one here. i'm so grateful for the positive response for this on the first chapter, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts!! Things are already getting smutty, enjoy 💕 and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip. summary: you're back from college for the summer, staying with your devout catholic parents in your childhood home while they order you around and try to keep authority over you. as an act of rebellion you ask your new neighbor mr. miller to teach you how to play guitar, but it turns out there's a lot more he wants to teach you. (no outbreak, no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact) warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, dirty old man joel, corruption (but it's consensual), praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader's family are very catholic), fingering, masturbation word count: 8.1k ao3

You're relieved the next morning when you look out your bedroom window and see your father's police car and your mother's SUV missing from the driveway. They've both already left for work, which means no twenty questions to answer when you go downstairs, no grilling you about what exactly you're going to be doing today. But it's not like you'd tell them the truth anyway.

You pick your outfit very carefully, shoving modest sweaters and long dresses aside as you search for something specific for Mr. Miller. You want him to look at you again like he did yesterday; the thought makes your thighs clench together again as you dig through the depths of your closet. You settle on an old Sunday School dress that you probably haven't worn since you had your final growth spurt, baby blue and simple. You undress and tug it over yourself, trying to ignore the way it tightens uncomfortably around your chest; it's much too small but you're running out of options.

"That's sexy, right?" you ask your silent bedroom, peering in the mirror at yourself. You were much shorter when you wore the dress last; now the hem settles on your upper thighs, leaving your legs completely exposed. It hugs your curves and accentuates your breasts, cleavage pushed up against the neckline so much that it feels like they could pop out at any moment.

You pick up a discarded pink hoodie and zip it on over the dress, hiding where you're practically bulging out of the material. Maybe you'll take it off later, but for now you don't need any of your neighbors reporting to your parents that they saw you walking down the street half naked.

You spend way too long getting ready, changing things about your hair and makeup over and over until you know you can't put off leaving anymore. You grab a quick bowl of cereal and then, with a resigned look of determination, you swap your flip flops with sneakers and head out into the hot summer day.

Not too many people are outside yet; parents have already left for work, kids are still sleeping, dogs have already been walked. You make it to Mr. Miller's without having to say an awkward hello to anybody, for which you're grateful.

He's not sitting on the step when you get there and for some reason it stops you in your tracks, leaving you standing at the end of his walkway like you had yesterday.

What if he's at work, you dumbass?

You hadn't factored in the possibility that he wouldn't be home. You'd had this ridiculous notion that maybe he'd be waiting for you, watching both sides of the street until you appeared and batted your eyelashes and asked him if you could still take him up on his offer. You'd visualized the whole thing. Like a teenager.

Just knock. Just knock and if he's not there, go home and try again later.

You still haven't moved from the end of his walk when the front door suddenly opens. Your eyes widen in surprise as he appears on his front step in all his disheveled glory, putting his hand across his face to block the sun; he's barefoot, wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a band you don't recognize on the front, and his hair is sticking up in different directions like he's just woken up. He brings a blue coffee mug up to his lips and takes a sip, eyes on you when he brings it back down, giving you a wry smile.

"Good mornin', babygirl," he says with that deep and slightly rough voice, leaning against the door frame, "Was hopin' you'd come back."

You blink a few times, brain whirring and stuttering helplessly as you stare at him. He's so handsome, so much older and rugged and sexy. You feel your panties get wet again and you can't even be mad at yourself; you're too distracted by the gorgeous man in front of you, looking directly at you, calling you babygirl. He's probably older than your father and yet you can't find a single bone in your body that cares in the slightest.

"Hi." you say softly, almost a squeak.

He smiles a bit wider, "Changed your mind, huh?"

You nod quickly, not knowing what else to say. He glances down at your dress and without thinking you shakily grab the zipper on your hoodie, tugging it down and showing him the full thing. You watch with bated breath as his eyes trail to your chest, looking openly and unapologetically at your breasts. He chuckles to himself and looks at your face again, taking another sip of coffee.

"I was hoping... um..." you bite your lip, trying to find the words, "I, uh-"

"Just come on in, darlin'," he interjects, laughing lightly again, "Don't hurt yourself." He moves back from the door a bit, gesturing for you to come inside.

You don't need telling twice. You put your head down, trying not to show him how nervous you are as you walk up his patio steps and slide past him into his house. You can practically hear your parents' voices in your head: "Don't talk to strangers. Don't go into a stranger's house." You're rebelling in more ways than one today.

"That's a pretty dress," he says behind you once you're inside, and you hear him shut the door. No going back now.

"Thank you." you turn to look at him, feeling out of place standing in the house of a man you don't know. You're just in time to see him looking at your body again and your skin heats once more.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asks with a crooked smile, charming and natural. You tell him and he just smiles wider, tilts his head to the side, "That's pretty."

"Thank you," you say again, "Um, what's yours?"

"I'm Joel," he puts his hand out for you to take, "Joel Miller. Surprised you didn't ask your momma about me."

You take it and feel your knees go slightly weak at his firm grip, big hand dwarfing yours in size, "I - uh, I did. But she just called you Mr. Miller."

He smirks at that, squeezing your hand in his, "You wanna call me Mr. Miller too? You can."

"Um," you're not sure what to say, biting down on your lip again and feeling flustered when he doesn't release your hand, "Uh..."

"You're a shy one, aren't you?" he asks, voice going a bit soft, soothing, "It's alright, darlin'. I don't mean to make you nervous."

"I'm not." you say it too quickly and you both know it's bullshit. He drops your hand and you turn your attention to the room in front of you, an open concept living space with a kitchen on the opposite side; it's nice, although you're surprised someone is living alone in such a big house.

"So do you, uh...do you have a wife?" you figure you should probably get that out of the way first; you're already planning on sinning in one way today, you don't need to add adultery to the list.

"No, just me." he walks past you and gestures for you to follow him. You do, walking to the kitchen and watching him take a glass down from the cupboard and start filling it with water. You stand there awkwardly, smoothing your dress down a bit and looking around the room.

You're so fucking nervous. You don't even know what he's got on his mind, let alone whether or not you're ready to do it. You imagine he'll lead you up to his bedroom, maybe turn the lights off and close the curtains...light a candle? Put on some music? You hope he'll be gentle and slow, that he'll listen to you. You know from your college friends that most men your age aren't really good at setting the mood, knowing how to do things the right way. Maybe because Mr. Miller - Joel - is older... it'll be better?

"Here, sweetheart, breathe," he hands you the glass of water and you take it with trembling fingers, "You don't need to be scared of me."

"I'm not scared of you," you reiterate, shaking your head and taking a sip.

"Right. Just like you weren't scared yesterday?"

You frown and put the water back down on the counter, "I- I wasn't scared."

He chuckles, leaning against the kitchen island and tilting his head again as he looks at you, "Well darlin', I might've gone back in my house but I saw you from the window. You practically sprinted down the street," he smirks at the memory, "Seemed scared to me."

"I wasn't scared. I'm not scared." You're not sure you're telling him or telling yourself.

"You sure? You're all flustered" he murmurs, and suddenly he's reaching up to hold your chin between his fingers, turning your head toward him. Your lips part in surprise, trembling beneath his touch as his thumb strokes gently against your jaw. You feel your face get even hotter.

He smirks at your response, eyes casting up and down your face quickly before he releases your chin and grabs the glass of water from where you'd laid it back down, turning to pour the rest of it down the sink. While his back is turned you fight to regain your composure, willing all the blood to disperse from your face.

"Well, no time like the present," he says, turning back around and walking past you out of the kitchen, "Guitar's in the living room."

You stare after him, brow furrowing in confusion, "What?"

"You still wanna learn that song, don't you?" he calls behind him, picking up his guitar from where it's leaning against the wall. He sits down on the couch and gestures with his neck for you to come over, smug smile still plain as day on his face.

You slowly make your way over to him, heart pounding in your chest. You seat yourself beside him on the couch, close enough that he can show you his guitar but not close enough that you're touching him. You may want him to touch you desperately but that doesn't change the fact that you're still freaking out right now. Because what does he want? You'd genuinely thought he'd meant something different yesterday with that comment about your fingers. He'd been flirting, hadn't he? Or is that just his nature?

"It's a simple chord progression," Mr. Miller - Joel - immediately begins to demonstrate. He strums on the strings, aligning his fingers carefully at the neck of the guitar and angling it in such a way that you can see what he's doing, "We start with an A and then go into G major pretty quickly."

You watch his fingers, long and almost delicate now as he presses his fingertips to the strings, holds them down as he starts to thumb out a tune. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes trained fully on the tender way he caresses the strings, coaxes beautiful sounds out of the guitar with minimal effort.

"Then D," he murmurs, and you notice that his eyes are also directed at his fingers, making sure he's showing you correctly, like he actually cares that he does it right, "And E into F sharp."

It's not like he's speaking another language - you know basic music theory from simply going to school all your life - but you don't fully understand how the notes and chords he's talking about translate into his fingers, into the shapes they make, where they push down. You know nothing about playing guitar and he's only a few moments away from realizing that; you can't help but already feel humiliated. Why the fuck had you lied to him yesterday? What are you even doing here?

"It pretty much repeats like that the whole way through," he says, starting the song over and strumming a bit slower, showing you his chord changes more purposefully, "But as I said yesterday there's lot's of room for some adlibbin' here and there, doesn't have to be by the book."

You feel yourself nod, although you still have no idea what he's talking about. He suddenly stops his movements on the guitar, directing his eyes back to you. You swallow down the nervous lump in your throat once again, willing yourself to look back.

"Wanna give it a try?" he asks, and without waiting for your answer he hands you the guitar. You take it from him with wide eyes, your own hands fitting into place where his had been only seconds ago, still warm; it makes you shiver.

"Um," you look down at the guitar, trying to shape your fingers in a similar way to what he'd done. Your nose scrunches up in concentration and confusion.

"Starts with A," Joel says, and you look up from the guitar to see him smiling softly at you, urging you to play him something.

Your fingers stay frozen on the guitar, tongue darting out to wet your lips. You can feel anxiety burning in the pit of your stomach.

"Okay, now I'm scared," you admit, voice shaky and small.

He doesn't say anything; you look up again and see him peering at you thoughtfully, brow furrowed. You hope he's figuring it out internally so you don't have to say it out loud, admit what a fraud you are.

"...You don't know how to play, do you?" he asks finally.

You bite your lip and hang your head in shame, grip loosening on the guitar, "No. I'm sorry."

To your surprise he laughs, deep and genuine. You lift your head back up to see him settle back in the couch a bit, shaking his head as he grins at you. You can't help but feel yourself smile back at him.

"You're adorable," he says with a sincerity that puts your tummy in knots, your gaze averting his once again, "I mean it, I can't even be mad 'cause you're so sweet, darlin'."

"M'not," you mumble, slightly embarrassed as you hand the guitar back to him and shake your head, "I'm a liar."

He takes it from you, "Why'd you lie? Coulda said you didn't play, I wouldn't have judged you for it."

You shrug, still not looking at him, "I don't know, I..." you sigh, biting your lip, "I wanted... I wanted you to think..." You don't finish but you're pretty sure he understands, aware of him nodding slowly in your peripheral vision.

"You're sweet," he repeats, voice softer this time, "So sweet, babygirl."

You shiver again at the pet name, finally bringing yourself to look at him again. He's still looking at you, dark eyes boring into your skin, lips turned up into that wry smile again.

"C'mere," he says, even softer, and you watch as he open his legs, moves back a bit on the couch and pats the empty spot in front of him. You stare, breath hitching at the realization that he wants you to sit there, "I wanna show you somethin'," he urges, "I won't bite, promise."

With shaky legs you reposition yourself on the couch, getting up and sitting back down between his wide legs. As soon as you're seated he brings the guitar down into your lap and sits up a bit, pushes his chest against your back as his arms wrap around your nervous form, holding the guitar in front of you.

"Watch my fingers," he says quietly, and you find that his voice is speaking directly into your left ear, breath warm and welcome against your skin. You have no choice but to obey, not that you'd even want to make any other choice.

He curves his fingers along the neck of the guitar again, pushing down the strings in a few different places and holding it there. He strums firmly, the back of the guitar pushing lightly into your belly with the tension.

"That's a C chord," he murmurs, strumming again, "See where my fingers are?"

"Yeah," you reply, barely a whisper; your mouth has gone dry.

"You hold your fingers as hard as you can against the strings," he continues, "It hurts at first, when you're learning, but the longer you play the more you build up calluses. You know what calluses are?"

You shake your head, unable to speak, too lost in the warmth of his breath against the nape of your neck, the masculine smell of him tingling your nose. He pulls his hand back from the strings and brings it up near your face, showing you his fingers.

"These are calluses," he explains, referring to the deep grooves embedded in the tips of his fingers, "They help you hold the strings down easier so it doesn't hurt."

You stare at his fingers, getting lost in their length and size, their girth. You feel yourself becoming wet in your underwear, clenching around nothing at the thought of one of those calluses touching you down there where you need it most. Your breath hitches again, thighs rubbing together involuntarily.

"Lemme show you," he murmurs, and to your surprise he suddenly takes your left hand in his and brings it to the neck of the guitar. You watch with bated breath as he carefully positions your fingers over the correct strings, holds them there with his own, "Play that."

With your shaky right hand you thumb the strings at the base of the guitar, a clear chord ringing out into the open room. Your eyebrows raise in surprise and he laughs again, charming and soft.

"There you go," he says softly, "First chord. Good girl."

The words send another pulsating wave of wetness into your underwear and you tremble beneath his touch, feeling your brows furrow in pleasure at the feeling of him being so close to you while you feel like this. Your hips buck up a bit but you feel too good to be embarrassed.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asks you gently, voice still close to your ear, "You're all flustered again, babygirl."

You hum, closing your eyes tight for a moment and trying to breathe, but all you can smell is him. All you can feel is him. You swallow tightly when you feel his touch ghost against your thigh, eyes opening to see him press his palm wide against your bare skin. You watch with parted lips as his thumb strokes the skin just below the hem of your dress, eyes hazy when he pushes himself against you from behind a bit tighter.

"Why'd you really come here, sweetheart?" he breathes, almost a whisper, "Tell me the truth."

You take a deep and shaky breath and feel yourself leaning back into him, eyes closing again as he slowly strokes your thigh, "You know why," you whisper.

He hums in response, nosing your ear gently and breathing you in, left hand still holding yours tightly against the neck of the guitar, "I do," he murmurs. You feel as he presses a wet kiss against your earlobe, beard rough against your skin. Your eyes roll back when he takes it into his mouth, sucks gently on it while he squeezes your thigh.

You're in heaven, completely at his mercy as you fall back further against him between his legs, your own going lax and loose the more he touches you. No one has ever done this to you, put their mouth on any part of you that wasn't your lips, put their hands anywhere near where you're currently aching to be touched. You watch as Joel's fingers inch upwards along your thigh, slipping past the hem of your dress. You already know where he wants to put his fingers next.

"I'm a virgin," you squeak without warning, panic suddenly brewing in your stomach. His hand freezes on your thigh and he pulls back from your ear. Why the fuck did you say that?

Now he'll be a gentleman, he'll take you off his lap and tell you to leave, tell you he can't be the one to take your virginity. You've seen this in movies, read it in books, heard it firsthand from your friends in college. Men don't like the responsibility of being your first, don't like the idea of a girl getting attached to them. And Joel... he's a grown man and you're just a twenty one year old Catholic mess with way too much baggage. There's absolutely no way he'll want to touch you now.

"Let's put this down," he whispers, and carefully helps you move the guitar off your lap and place it to the side. Here it comes, he's gonna tell you to get up and go home. You wait for him to inevitably push you from the couch, awkwardly stand up and lead you to the front door.

But that doesn't happen. Instead, you watch with wide and confused eyes as he suddenly puts both hands on your bare thighs, squeezing them gently beneath his wide palms, "You ever been touched like this, darlin'?" he asks you quietly.

You shake your head, "N-no."

His thumbs stroke your skin softly, tenderly. You feel as he sits up a bit more and tightens his legs around you, holding you in place, "You like the way that feels?"

"Yes," you whisper, soft and secret, "Feels good."

"That's good, it's s'posed to," Joel murmurs, nosing your ear again, "Now let's pull up this pretty dress a little bit," the words send a shock to your system, eyes widening in surprise. He doesn't wait for you to help, just immediately goes for the hem of your dress and hikes it up your legs, exposing more of your bare thighs and a hint of your panties, blue and lacy to match your dress, "Oh, you're just a pretty little thing aren't you?" he breathes, voice hot against your ear, "You really never been touched?"

"Never," you repeat, and he just hums and presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, making your breath hitch, "Th-that doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all, sweetheart," he breathes, tightening his grip on your thighs; the feeling of his large palms on your flesh makes you whimper slightly, looking down at where he's holding you and shivering, "Makes me want you more than I already do."

Your pussy is throbbing in your panties and you're sure there must be a stain through your dress, through the couch. You rub your thighs together and whimper again, head falling back against Joel's shoulder. You feel him kiss your hair, watch as his hands slide up your thighs so his fingertips are just slightly touching the edges of your underwear.

"You're all wet, aren't you?" he asks softly, soothingly, "Been sittin' here soaking my couch this whole time, huh? Want me to touch you so bad, don't you, babygirl?"

You hear yourself make a strange noise through your teeth, a hnnng sound that makes him chuckle, "You like that, don't you? You like bein' my babygirl?"

"I do," you whisper.

"That's good," he murmurs, "That's real good, babygirl." His thumbs hook into your panties then, tugging gently, "Now let's take these off," he says, beginning to slide them down, "so I can take a look at this pretty little pussy you've been savin' just for me."

You both watch as your panties slip down your bare legs with ease, dress still hiding your pussy from him entirely. It's impossible not to notice the enormous dark spot in the fabric, glistening in the sunlight. You can't help but feel embarrassed.

"Oh, baby," he groans, fisting them in his hand and thumbing the dark spot tightly, "So wet."

"Why does that happen?" you ask, swallowing around the anxious lump in your throat, knowing you're just advertising your inexperience even more by asking.

"Means you're turned on, sweet girl" he explains, thumb still pressed firmly against the wet spot as he presses another wet kiss to your ear, sloppier this time, "I'm turnin' you on."

"You are," you agree shakily, "It happened last night too, after..."

"After?"

"After I dreamed about you."

He smiles against your skin, dropping the panties to the floor and bringing his hand back down to your thigh; his thumb is wet and sticky against your skin, "You're a naughty little thing, aren't you? Did you touch yourself? Make yourself come thinkin' about me?"

"No," you shake your head, "I haven't... I've never..."

He groans in understanding, but not in an irritated or angry way. It's arousal, you can tell by the way his legs tighten around your trembling form, pulling you in closer. He pulls up the hem of your dress and exposes your wet and aching pussy to the both of you, lips bare and soft against his couch. You hear his breath hitch behind you when it comes into view.

"Fuck," he says, voice low and rough with arousal, "Look at you."

He barely hesitates, reaching down and thumbing your outer lips with both hands, his other fingers splaying against your inner thighs. You squirm at the feeling, brows scrunching together when he gently pinches your soft lips and sucks your earlobe back into his mouth.

"So soft, babygirl," he whispers, releasing it with a wet pop, "Look at that." You don't think he's actually telling you to look, more-so talking to himself as he caresses the outer part of your pussy gently, "So pretty."

"I-um... I shaved it," you whisper, "Just in case."

"Babygirl, you didn't need to do that," he noses your ear and you feel his breath, hot and sticky against your skin, "Woulda been pretty either way."

You feel your cheeks warm, "My roommates said most guys don't like-"

"Am I most guys?" he whispers, and continues to stroke your pussy lips up and down with his thumbs, "You know how old I am, babygirl?"

"N-no." His touch is becoming too much, too distracting. It feels good to have him touching you like this but it's still not where you need him to touch you, the slick part inside that's absolutely aching for his fingers feeling desperately wetter.

"Why don't you take a guess, see how accurate you are."

"Um," you barely understand what he's even talking about, eyes trained on where he's stroking you, "F-fourty?"

He laughs immediately, "Now we both know that's not your real guess, sweetheart."

You bite your lip, watching his thumbs, "Well... I don't wanna... I don't wanna hurt your feelings."

He smiles, "You're sweet. But I don't care, darlin', gimme your real guess."

You sigh shakily, "Fifty."

"Close," he breathes, and you watch with a whimper as he begins to drag his thumbs up and down your wet slit, lips too puffy to show him what's beyond, "That's real close, bit higher."

Higher? Fuck.

"Fifty...three?"

He dips the tip of his thumbs ever so slightly inside your slit, then brings them out again and pushes your own wetness across your outer lips, making your skin glisten, "Higher."

"F-fifty five?"

"Fifty six," he finally says, still thumbing your juices all along your pussy. You're not sure how to respond, surprised by the number but also desperately turned on, waiting for him to finally slip inside where you're begging him to touch, "That make you uncomfortable?" he asks after a moment of silence, and you swear you hear a bit of hesitance in his question as his hands freeze, waiting for you to reply before he goes any further.

"No," you reply, shaking your head slowly, thoughtfully, "It doesn't."

"You're sure?" he asks quietly, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice, "Because I can stop, sweetheart. Just say the word, I'll let you go home."

You shake your head again, more frantically this time at the thought of him releasing you from his embrace, "I promise, Mr. Miller," you whisper, then quickly correct yourself, "Joel."

"You can call me Mr. Miller, babygirl," he whispers, and you watch with hooded eyes as he slowly pulls your swollen lips apart, exposing the innermost parts of yourself to his living room. Your mouth pops open in surprise, eyes widening at how wet and sticky you are, a big drop of your own wetness pushing past your aching hole and dribbling out onto his hand.

"Gonna take care of this perfect untouched pussy, I swear," he groans, rough and low in your ear, pinching your outer lips again as his gaze bores into your sopping cunt, "Gonna make her feel so good."

--

With wobbly legs Joel had helped you up from the couch, chuckling when you'd tripped up almost immediately. With sure and steady hands he'd straightened you up, carefully removed your hoodie and discarded it on the couch, "Won't need this," he'd said softly, "Let's go get in my bed, sweetheart."

Now he holds you on the edge of his bed, inside a bedroom that feels cozy and masculine, that smells like him. His bed wasn't made when he'd lead you inside but other than that he has a clean bedroom, small and comfortable. He now has you sitting in his lap with your legs wide, hooked over his own while you both face the full length mirror on the wall.

"W-what are we doing?" you ask breathlessly, feeling slightly embarrassed at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks are still hot, hair messy and dress falling off, positively debauched and certainly no longer the good little Catholic girl your parents raised. You watch as Joel fingers the hem of your dress again and slowly pulls it up, exposing your dripping pussy to the mirror and to the both of you.

"Wanna show you what I'm doing," Joel murmurs, coaxing your legs even wider and pulling apart your swollen lips once again, showing you the untouched part of yourself you've never seen before, "How else are you gonna learn if you can't see, babygirl?"

You nod slowly, watching as he spreads you wide. You bring your eyes up to his face in the mirror to see the way he's watching you. His eyes are dark and lustful, hair still tousled from the early morning, scruff thick and scratchy against your neck and shoulder. He follows your gaze and peers into your eyes in the mirror, pulls you wider; you squirm a bit and close your eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed at the sight.

"You're shy, arent you?" he whispers, a smile in his voice.

"I've just... I've never..." you shake your head, opening your eyes again to turn and look at him, forgetting about the mirror for a moment, "No one's ever looked at me like this before."

He smiles softly at you, somehow tender and fond despite the part of him that clearly wants to devour you, corrupt you. He takes one hand and brings it to your chin, tilts your face up to his and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, gentle and soft. You kiss him back, eyes closing as you slowly breathe him in, feel his beard rub tantalizingly against your cheek.

"You've done that before, haven't you?" he asks you once he pulls away, finger still on your chin as he looks deep into your eyes, "You've been kissed?"

You nod but bite your lip, "Yes, but...not like that."

He tilts his head, "Like what?"

"Like they really want me," you whisper, eyes falling to his lips and silently wishing he'll do it again, "Like they're not holding back."

Almost like he can read your mind, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours once again, this time gently easing his tongue inside your mouth. You take it openly, loving the way he pushes it against yours, smooth and wet. He tastes like coffee; it's pleasant and warm and you're so distracted by the kiss that you don't realize he's taken his hand from your chin and moved it back to your pussy, carefully sliding his index finger beyond your lips and stroking upward.

Your hips buck immediately, still kissing him hard and loving the way he doesn't pull back, doesn't slow things down or even speed things up, just keeps it to your comfort level, lets you decide what the kiss is. You moan against his mouth when you feel the callus on the tip of his index rub lightly against a particularly sensitive spot. It's only then that you feel you need to pull away for breath, leaving your forehead pressed against his and letting out a long exhale.

"You really needed that, didn't you?" he murmurs softly, calm and gentle, "My babygirl needs to be touched so bad, doesn't she?"

You nod frantically, opening your eyes again, "Please, Mr. Miller," you breathe shakily, "Please make me feel good."

He groans again, closes his eyes and pushes himself up into you; you can suddenly feel something very hard beneath your dress and you're not entirely uneducated; you know exactly what it is. Out of curiosity you grind down a bit on him and he presses his lips to your neck again, humming against the skin.

"That's my cock, you know that right?" he breathes, "You ever felt a cock, sweetheart? Even through someone's clothes?"

You shake your head, feeling that familiar nervousness in the pit of your stomach at the thought. He must sense your uneasiness because he immediately pulls himself up a bit, pushes you forward so you're not seated directly on top of the hard shape of him anymore.

"Don't worry about that, today's lesson is about you," he says soothingly, stroking your pussy again and making you tremble, "I'm gonna teach you how to come, okay?"

You inhale shakily, feeling slightly relieved; it's not that you don't want to see his cock - God knows you really do - but you're so inexperienced, you really have no idea what you're doing. You feel excited - and kind of touched, in a way - that Joel is going out of his way to teach you exactly what you've been missing, things you've only heard about. Today's lesson....it repeats in your mind as you watch him touch you in the mirror, thumbing your lips wide; does that mean there'll be more?

"Okay, babygirl, here's what we're gonna do," he murmurs, breaking you away from your thoughts. "See this lil' nub right here?" You nod, peering in the mirror at the tiny hooded bump Joel is lightly prodding, sending a buzzing electricity throughout your body, "That's your clit, she's the most sensitive part of your pussy."

"I knew that," you breathe "I think."

He smiles at your reply, "You're gonna touch your clit, that's all you're gonna do. Just touch it and rub it until you feel yourself gettin' close," he moves his hand up to palm your stomach, "You'll feel it right here, in your belly. You'll know it's comin'."

"Okay," you whisper, nodding again.

"When you feel it buildin' in there, you tell me, and I'll make you come."

"And coming...that means..." you wince at your stupidity, "That's an orgasm, right?"

"Yes, darlin'," he murmurs; his face is suddenly blocked by your face as he kisses the back of your neck but you swear you can hear him smile, "That's an orgasm. I'm gonna give you your first orgasm, that sound good?"

"Yes," it's almost a squeak, desperate and shaky. You watch in the mirror as Joel takes your right hand and carefully brings it to your pussy, extends your index finger alongside his own and gently presses down, "Oh," you whimper, hips bucking again, "Oh."

"You're okay," he reminds you softly, prodding your finger harder against yourself, "It's just like the guitar, you gotta be firm."

It feels incredible, both yours and Joel's fingers tapping the tiny bundle of nerves with a steadiness you know is only possible because of him. Without his guidance you probably would have already dropped your hand, overwhelmed by the sensation.

"And now you rub," he explains softly, thumb and pinky curling around your other fingers as he holds your index steady, rubs it back and forth against your clit. Your mouth pops open, eyes going hazy again as you watch his movements in the mirror, "There you go," he whispers, and you catch him watching your expression, the pure bliss in your eyes as he makes you feel something you've never felt before, "Good girl, sweetheart, that's it."

"Oh my God," you breathe, aware that you probably shouldn't be taking the Lord's name in vain at a moment like this, but somehow the act feels almost godly in itself, a sensation of pure pleasure that you've never felt before travelling all throughout your body, "It feels- oh my God."

"Tell me," Joel breathes behind you, still holding your hand and letting you slowly start to rub yourself on your own, taking the lead, "Tell me how it feels, baby."

"It's- it's so good," you whine, tossing your head back against his shoulder, "Mr. Miller," you shake your head frantically, "I feel it already, Mr. Miller, in my stomach."

He seems genuinely surprised at that, eyebrows raising in the mirror, "Okay, babygirl," he whispers, "Lemme make you come."

He removes your hand, places it on your thigh. Without any hesitation you bring it up to grip his arm, holding it tightly as he brings his own hand back down to your pussy and starts to rub your clit again, this time at his own pace. Your jaw drops, eyes rolling back as he stimulates you perfectly, finger stroking back and forth at a pace that sends a wet squelching sound throughout the quiet room. You can't even feel embarrassed, too overwhelmed by the feeling of finally being touched.

You can't see the mirror anymore, head tilted back so far against Joel's body that you're just staring at his ceiling, mouth open wide as numerous loud and completely uncharacteristic sounds blare from your mouth, long and high and indiscernible.

"That's it," he groans in your ear, a deep rumble that urges you on as he continues to rub you furiously, "There you go, there you go. Fuck, babygirl, give it to me. Fuckin' give it to me."

His words send you over the edge and you feel yourself stiffen in his lap, legs shaking uncontrollably as you writhe within his grasp. He slows his movements, coaxes you through it, continues to whisper praises in your ear as you have your very first orgasm in his arms. Your chest is heaving with exertion as you cry out, tears stinging your eyes.

"Mr. Miller," you whimper, closing your eyes and letting him hold you tight, your grip loosening on his arm, "Mr. Miller." It's like a prayer, the way his name rolls off your tongue. Not even an hour has passed since you first stepped foot in his house and you're already prepared to make Joel Miller your new God, kneel before him and give thanks for everything he's just done for you.

"Shhh," he coos, removing his fingers and letting you relax into his embrace, "You're alright, I've got you."

You continue to whimper and shake, vaguely aware of him slowly beginning to lay flat against the edge of the bed, taking you with him. You lay on top of him, breathing heavily.

"So good," you whisper, voice positively wrecked from what he's just done, "Felt so good."

"I know," he murmurs back, kissing your hair again and wrapping his arms around your middle, "I know, baby."

"M'gonna fall asleep," it's barely a whisper now, quiet and relaxed, "Sorry." You don't last long enough to hear what he says in response.

--

You wake a bit later, confused for a moment when you open your eyes and are greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling. It's only when you look down at yourself and see Joel's duvet wrapped around you that it comes flooding back. You smile unconsciously, inhaling his scent and turning to bury your nose in his pillow. Everything smells like him now, including you.

You glance over at the clock on his bedside table: 12:04PM. You slept for a solid two hours. It doesn't surprise you, not after the shitty sleep you had last night and the absolutely ridiculous orgasm he gave you right before you drifted off, but still....two hours? And he didn't wake you?

You sit up slowly, squinting at the afternoon sun flooding through the blinds on his window. You swear you can hear some faint music coming from somewhere, a stereo nearby? A car passing? Then, your eyebrows shoot up as you fling yourself out of bed and run to the window, opening it up and peering down at the patio below.

Joel is sitting on his front step again, wearing different clothes now; he must have showered after you'd fallen asleep...probably took care of himself as well. The thought makes you shiver but you push it away, instead focusing on the lovely sounds emanating from his guitar, a slow and gentle tune that instantly relaxes you.

You pull back from the window and face the mirror nearby, assessing yourself. You're still the same person you were a few hours ago but something is different; your hair is a mess, makeup smudged, dress disheveled. With a bit of hesitance you slowly pull up the hem and expose yourself, eyeing yourself down there where Joel had touched you. You find that it doesn't make you as nervous to look at it now, unable to help the small smile that appears on your face when you remember the way Joel had worshipped it mere hours ago.

The memory of Joel has you leaving his bedroom quickly, descending the stairs in his house and walking into the open living space once again. You spot your hoodie on the couch and grab it, zipping it back on as you search for your panties; they're nowhere to be found. Your brow furrows as you pull up a few of the couch cushions but come up emptyhanded.

You smooth your dress down; it's long enough that it doesn't show you're not wearing underwear, but you'll probably have to hold it down when you walk home. The last thing you want is to expose yourself to one of your elderly neighbors.

You take a few deep breaths and walk to the front door, readying yourself to face the man who just gave you the best experience of your life. As soon as you open it he turns on the step, still playing his relaxing tune and looking you up and down.

"Hi," you breathe, a little shy, playing with your hands a bit as you walk toward him.

"Hi, babygirl," he says with a kind smile, nodding to you, "Sleep good?"

"Yeah," you reply, shuffling over and settling down beside him on the step, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sleep for so long."

He smiles again, tilts his head, "You can sleep in my bed as long as you want, darlin'. Any time."

You feel your skin burn, looking down at your bare knees and biting your lip. He keeps playing the song, humming to himself as he does it; it's not a tune you recognize but that doesn't matter, just listening to him play is enough to make you feel warm and fuzzy.

There it is, you think to yourself, the attachment. It's already starting.

You look up at him again, smiling fondly at his look of concentration as he strums steadily. Your gaze falls to his fingers on the neck of the guitar and you swallow, remembering all too well where exactly they've been. The song finishes on a long and sweet note, positive and lovely. You can't help but playfully clap for him, grinning when he rolls his eyes and lays the guitar behind him.

"What song was that?" you ask, eyes bright as he peers over at you.

"Aha, Take on Me," he replies with a smirk, "Never heard that one?"

You shake your head.

"Wow, you really are just a kid, aren't you?" he murmurs, giving you another once-over before he turns back to look at the street, still pretty empty. Your brow furrows at his words, suddenly unsure.

"Is that...does that bother you?" you ask hesitantly.

He turns back to you and immediately shakes his head, "Not at all, sweetheart. Just means I have a lot more to teach you."

Your skin tingles at that and you feel yourself throb uncomfortably against his wooden step. You look down at yourself, making a face.

"What is it?"

"I'm already..." you shake your head, feeling embarrassed, "It's... I'm wet again."

"Jesus," he groans, almost laughing as he tilts his head back and looks over at you with a wide grin, "Don't say that to me, babygirl. Not when you gotta head home."

You look at him, confused, "I do?"

He nods, frowning slightly, "Your momma drove down the street about ten minutes ago, figure she'll probably be wonderin' where you are."

You sigh exasperatedly, rolling your eyes, "I'm so sick of living with my parents. I can't wait to go back to college."

"Poor baby," he says softly, "C'mere." He pats his knee and you go to sit on it but freeze, assessing the street.

"What if someone sees?" you ask quietly, unsure.

He seems to think for a second, then nods and takes your hand. He helps you stand up and leads you quickly into the foyer of his house again, shutting the door and wrapping his arms tightly around you.

"Mmmm," he hums into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "You smell so sweet, darlin'."

"I smell like you," you whisper back, unable to hold back your grin, "I smell like...sex."

He holds you tighter and pulls back to look at you, tilting your chin up and leaning down to kiss your lips. It's soft and unhurried; he still tastes like coffee, bittersweet and delicious,

"You come back here any time you want, okay?" he murmurs against your lips, "I mean it, any time. But especially when that pussy's wet and achin' for me. I'll give her what she needs, babygirl."

You shiver and lean up to capture his mouth again, nodding through the kiss and whispering, "I will, Mr. Miller."

--

You walk home quickly, holding your dress down and feeling more rebellious than you've ever felt in your life whenever the warm summer breeze ruffles past the fabric and onto your bare pussy, reminding you that you're not wearing any panties. They're lost somewhere in Joel's house; the thought gives you butterflies.

Your mother is bustling around in the kitchen when you get home, putting away groceries. She's distracted enough that she doesn't notice when you slip past the kitchen and head upstairs to change your clothes.

After showering - something you desperately didn't want to do but had to - you change into a more modest outfit and retreat back down the stairs, walking into the kitchen so your mom knows you're back.

"Oh, where were you?" she asks, chopping up a carrot on a cutting board in front of her, barely looking up, "Did you meet up with Bethany? Alice?"

Oh shit, you hadn't thought of a cover story, "Uh, yeah, met up with both of them."

"Lovely," she replies with a smile, finishing chopping and turning to look at you, "And they're well?"

"Yep," you nod, hopefully not too much, "I, uh, might be helping out at the soup kitchen soon."

Your mother claps her hands together and walks toward you, "Oh, I'm so happy to hear that," she suddenly furrows her brow, looking at your face with slight confusion, "Are you alright, dear?"

"O-oh, just... just warm from my shower."

She smiles and nods, turning away from you again, "Could you help me chop some veggies? I'm making soup tonight, might be good practice for when you're volunteering."

"Yeah, sure. No problem."

You reach up and touch your face one last time, feeling the heat still etched beneath your skin that you know for a fact is certainly not from your shower. You take one last steadying breath, then walk forward to help your mother.

You come back here any time you want, Joel's voice echoes in the back of your mind. You start to wonder how long you'll be able to last, but you already know the answer.

[klipkillakai]

|pt 2|

humming the smooth melodies of jhené aiko’s music, you slowly walk down the aisles of the bookstore, picking up books and looking at the back reading the synopsis, this morning you woke up and decided you wanted to go to the mall..

usually you go with your bestie but she’s been in florida all week, so you decided to go by yourself, this was a little anxiety inducing but you went straight to your safe haven.. barnes and nobles.. where you can pick any escape you want

you decided you wanted to pick up some romance novels, it probably having to do with it being february and your new found crush but your gonna be delusional and pretend that’s not the case..

you think about him as you look through the books, you haven’t seen him at school all week and you feel worried? it’s odd because you wouldn’t have noticed before but now it’s different..

you haven’t attempted to text him out of fear, but you notice he hasn’t texted you either, it hurts a bit and deep down you can’t help but feel like it was too good to be true..

you shake the thoughts away and collect your books and head to the cashier..

connie silently follows the guards as they lead him out to intake, he’d been locked up the past few, some bullshit about a warrant.. he knew that was a lie.. he knew they needed to get him on something, but unfortunately for them he has one the best lawyers in the country..

he smiles when the guard roughly uncuffs him, muttering for him to get dressed.. the guards leave and immediately he shoves off the jumpsuit wrapped around his waist pulling on his cargos and tee he was last in, he opens the ziplock baggie with his phone in it, calling his employee, he tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder and laces up his shoes

“sir?”

“im out, send the car”

connie hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket along with his keys and wallet and zips up his jacket, before pressing the button notifying he was done changing—

——————————————————————————

you hop off the bus, and start walking back to your house, you carry the few bags of things you bought and shiver at the bite of the cold

“oh nah” you whisper and start to walk a bit faster

a few blocks in you feel the urge to look behind you, you peep a hellcat going slow down the street but you don’t recognize it exactly, you think that’s odd so you keep walking silently keeping note, starting to feel paranoid you turn around again and it’s still following you.. not knowing what to do you keep walking faster until the car finally pulls up next to you and rolls down the window, you prepare to tell the whoever in the car off until you hear

“hey mama”

you stop dead in your tracks and turn to look at the man you’ve been thinking about this whole week

“connie?”

you walk closer to the car and he puts it in park and gets out, before leaning on the door, he smiles

“you missed me?”

wanting to say yes you shrug and say

“where you been? i haven’t seen you at school since last week”

he slowly slides his hands in his pockets and looks at you for a beat and says

“i was locked up, got pulled over on a warrant or sumn, but i got out quick because they had nothing to stand on”

you brows slightly furrow “jail? what kind of warrant did they say it was?”

connie slowly walks closer to you and, softly grabs the bags from your hand and nods towards his car..

“cmon, take a ride wit me real quick”

he goes around the other side of the car opening the door, before you slip inside, he places the bags on your lap and mutters a “seatbelt” and shuts the door quickly walking around to his side and looking around before slipping in the car, the car starts and plays loud drill music before he quickly turns it down and pulls off..

“you didn’t answer my question..” you say softly looking at him

his jaw ticks for a second and his thumb taps the wheel, “ion want you to worry about that aight?” he shoot’s a lazy look towards you..

“should i worry about it” he shakes his head no and you ask..

“is it gonna happen again?” he softly licks his lips and says “i’m gonna make sure it doesn’t”

you look in his eyes as he says that and you get the slightest flash of something sinister behind them, that erupts butterflies in your belly and you softly squeeze your thighs together

“okay” you whisper, and he looks at you again with a slight smile..

after 20 mins of driving you finally ask with a little laugh “where we going?” he pulls up to a parking garage entrance and pulls in before saying

“my crib” your heart skips a beat and, your feel yourself get a bit hot.. “oh” you whisper

“is that okay?” he asks with a teasing smile, pulling into a parking space, “yea i just didn’t expect that”

“don’t worry your safe, your always safe wit me”

you look up at him with a bright smile, and connie nearly wants to fall to his knees, he looks at the brightness in your eyes before it quickly lowers to your lips and he looks away, almost wanting to laugh at how smitten you’ve gotten him..

he opens your door, taking your hand and you walk away hearing the car lock, he leads you to an elevator, and he presses the fob to the button and presses the 10th floor..

you feel his thumb softly go back and forth on the back of your hand “you cold?” he says softly and you nod.. “i could tell when you were outside” he shrugs off his big carthartt jacket and drapes it over your shoulder.. the elevator dings and he pulls you into the hallways stopping at his apartment door, pulling out his keys, unlocking it and nodding you inside

you walk through the door looking around, it smells just like him, the fresh masculine smell, slightly twinged with weed, he kicks he shoes off and you do the same, pulling off your hot pink crocs and neatly placing them next to his shoes…

“so did you just get home today?”

“yea a few hours ago actually, i haven’t been home in a week, i fucking missed it” he pulls off his hoodie causing his shirt to lift under it and you catch a glimpse of his happy trail.. you want to scream because you find that so attractive but you look away fighting back a smile..

you walk further into the seemingly large apartment, looking around at the masculine decor, the black couches and large tv mounted on the wall, you slowly turn and notice a book shelf, you slowly walk towards it, hearing connie in the back opening a fridge.. you graze your fingers on the books about finance, stock investing… and your finger stops on a book about secret society’s.. you look back at connie before you keep scanning the books.. others filled law.. others about cars and guns…

“you like to read?” you ask connie

“that’s how i learn, knowledge is power” connie says as he stands behind you, slowly dragging his hand up your arm.. then slowly moving your braids to one side.. and dragging his lips up your neck inhaling your sent at the same time..

you let out a slow breath.. and you feel his large hands slowly press against your lower belly, and you feel heat slowly pool there..

“your so beautiful you know that?”

you softly smile.. “sometimes i don’t”

he softly pause before slowly turning your face towards his.. “i’m gonna ensure you do”

he looks in your eyes for a beat before letting your face go, “im gonna hop in the shower rq, then we’re gonna dip aight?”

you let a breath “mhm” you nod for reassurance and he smiles a bit before turning around and walking down the hall..

——————————————————————————

10 mins later you sitting on his couch tapping through stories.. you start to think about who connie is.. he got out of jail today and you still have yet to know what.. and.. and that phone call! the last time you were in the car together he told you the same thing “don’t worry about it” do you trust him enough to not worry about it? are you going to let curiosity kill the cat?

you hear the bathroom door open cutting your thoughts short, you look up at connie.. the towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets rolling down his abs.. gold chain dangling around his neck.. and his tattoos.. god you love his tattoos.. a snake winding around his arm.. a cross on the side of his neck and a large chest and back piece..

“i can feel you staring pretty girl”

you immediately look away feeling your body heat up from embarrassment.. he laughs a bit and shakes his head.. “it’s okay.. i stare too” you softly turn towards him and look in his eyes.. “i really like your tattoos”

“oh yeah?” “yeah” you whisper back shyly and he smiles at that, connie likes making you nervous.. he likes catching you stare and that little dazed look on your face..

“your gonna come wit me to pick sumn up, and we gon get food after or sumn aight?”

“you know.. you never ask.. you just tell” you say with a teasing smile..

“would you like me to ask? even if i knew the answer already”

“what makes you think i’ll say yes?”

“you haven’t said no yet..”

“maybe i will”

“well let me know when you decide to do that”

you roll your eyes and connie slightly smirks before walking into his room and changing clothes, he goes into his closet looking behind him before grabbing his piece and tucking it his pants, he covers it with his shirt and grabs a thick jacket and pulls on his timbs..

he sprays some of his cologne and slips on his rings and opens his nightstand and grabs his other phone slipping it in his pocket and leaving..

he walks out the room and sees you still patiently waiting on the couch, hearing your nails tap against the screen.. “cmon mama”

he watches your pretty head snap up, you quickly hop up, pulling up your pink sweatpants and rounding the couch walking towards him..

he grabs your hand and you walk out the door together, heading to the elevator and eventually ending up in the parking garage again, this time getting into a different car, he quickly pulls out, nodding to the security guard and pulling into the street..

he zooms pass other cars as he picks up his phone from the cup holder, calling someone..

he looks around before he turns, and starts to speak

“im pulling up, have it ready” soon after he pulls into a warehouse building, you hear his tires crackle against the the gravel and a man stands there holding a large black duffel bag, connie rolls down the window, dapping the man up before reaching down and opening his trunk, silently plopping the back the trunk and shutting it, without another word he begins to walk inside, connie pulls out the driveway pulling out into the street again..

you almost open your mouth to ask what’s in the bag but you choose not too, do you really want to know? do you need to know? it seems connie doesn’t think you do.. so you stay quiet..

connie softly looks over to you.. “whatchu want to eat?” you smile a bit thinking about it “mmm i dunno you pick” he shrugs and smiles “i don’t care about what i eat, i’ve been eating prison food for a week”

you think about it, and you smile getting an idea “let me cook for you” connie slightly pauses and looks over at you, his heart slightly soars and he says “forreal?” “mhm” you nod and connie looks at you with an amused expression on his face, like there’s an inside joke he’s having with himself..

“aight, bet” he quickly makes a u-turn zooming pass cars and soon after pulls into a whole foods.. he parks and nods for you to get out too, you walk hand in hand inside the store and you grab a basket quickly pulling on his hand, leading him to where you need to go..

you stand in the aisle looking at different types of beans as connie stands close behind you, softly rubbing your back “what are you making?”

“rice and beans with jerk chicken” he groans softly and whispers “sheesh” you smile and continue shopping, quickly grabbing all the ingredients and heading to self check out, connie helps scan and pays of course and you quickly put the bags in the car and head back to his place..

the tv is playing in the back as you cut up vegetables, the meat is already marinating in the fridge, and your just focusing on the rice and beans at this point, connie is standing next to you washing the rice..

connie loves this, cooking with someone, allat wifey shit.. that gets him bad, he hears you giggle at a joke from the show and he smiles, when you proposed the idea of cooking for him he almost fell in love with you on the spot, he likes that wifey shit because he knows he can match that energy by providing, he’s always wanted to be that.. a provider.. it’s just in his nature, he knows dudes who want a wife but act like bums when the opportunity arises, nah he’s gon take care of you back.. always.

he finishes cooking the rice and looks over to you “you need me to do something else?” you finish giggling at the joke and shake your head no “no thank you” you say sweetly.. and he nods before pressing a kiss to your cheek.. “i’m gonna be in my room aight?” “mhm” you nod and he walks down the hallway as you cook..

an hour later your rolling balls of cookie dough and placing them on the baking sheet in front of you, you hear the door open and connie’s comes out the room, he changed into grey sweats and a wife beater he smells the kitchen “damn it’s smells good in here”

you smile and grab the sheet, placing it in the oven and go to the sink to rinse your hands off “we can eat the food is done, i was just making some cookies”

he walks behind you, reaching up grabbing two plates and forks handing them to you, you go over to the pots on the stove and start making his plate..

“you eat alot? you ask and he walks up behind you softly rubbing your lower back “mhm” he hums and you start to put more rice and another piece of chicken and you hand him his plate before making yours..:

you end up on his couch, he puts on a movie and you start to eat.. “you wanna smoke?” he asks and you smile “you stay trynna get me high” he laughs and shakes his head before reaching on his coffee table, grabbing a box and starting to roll up, he sparks it and hits it before passing it to you, you pass it back and forth until your both faded and you start eating

connie takes his first bite and groans softly, pointing and nodding at the food “this is so fucking good mama” you smile knowing that it’s good and you take your fist bite “shiiit” you say and you both laugh high asf..

you talk and eat for the rest of the evening, you open up about yourselves, telling each other things about your insecurities, your outlook on life.. who you want to be as people, and that draws you closer, you both begin to understand that your just people that want love, and company and support.. and that connects with both of you, both of you falling deeper and deeper and not even realizing it..

you and connie cuddle, both wrapped around each other eating the warm cookies fresh out the oven, the high still hitting, you feel his hand softly rub small circles on your hips, and you feel butterflies erupt in your belly, and heat slowly trickling down..you softly adjust yourself, and connie notices looking down, he softly smiles and against his better judgement he slides his palm down, softly rubbing your lower belly, his pinkie lightly grazing under the waistband on your sweats and you softly bite your lip..

you reach back softly, and rub his hand on your belly, softly rubbing it, connie softly presses a kiss to your cheek, slowly moving down to your neck, nipping and sucking softly, your eyes lower and you shudder, you softly turn around, sitting up and connie follows,

you slowly climb on his lap, and his hands immediately finds your waist, you both hold eye contact only breaking it it look at each others lips,he leans in looking up at you for consent, you softly nod and he captures your lips in a kiss, you kiss him back the kiss is slow and sensual, as if your both making a map, slowly figuring each other out.. his tongue grazes your lower lip and you open your mouth , you tongues now dancing around each other, you slowly roll your hips into his his, and that sends a sharp shiver down your spine.. you almost gasp at it..

he hands slides up your chest and up to your neck, grabbing it and squeezing it, pulling you closer, the pace of the kiss becoming faster, more passionate..he softly pulls back softly biting your lip before kissing you again.. you wrap your arms around his neck, your nails grazing against the nape of his neck, causing him to shudder and his bulge under you twitching, this slightly intimidates you.. your a virgin and all of this is new to you.. your just going with the flow.. but damn does it feel good.. it feels better than any words you’ve ever read when reading your silly little romance novels.. even better than when you touch yourself late at night..

you slowly pull away, a string of saliva connecting you both, not wanting you to separate, his eyes are low and filled with lust.. he leans back and groans softly rubbing your ass “you gonna drive me crazy mama” your face heats and you smile “yeah?” you whisper sweetly while you softly rub his chest..

he watches you, and you lean in, laying your head on his chest, he softly rubs your back.. this combined with the weed and food, starts making you sleepy, your eyes begin to lower and connie notices..

“you can sleep baby, i’ll drop you off later” you sleepily nod and you feel connie pull a blanket over you and press a kiss to your forehead.. and you drift off to sleep, feeling safe and warm..

|a/n|

yalll! did you miss me?? hehehe i don’t think you guys understand the bull i just went through!!! tumblr dead deleted half my draft! i’m officially traumatized guys! i see why you guys write in word or like google docs or sumn! but i just wanted to say thank you for over 1000 notes on soft thug 1!! like ermmm i did NOT expect that thank you so much guys!! ily 🩷

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[apomaro-mellow]

5 times eddie singled out steve during a concert and the one time steve did it back

Corroded Coffin fans were no strangers to the deep love shared between frontman Eddie and his boyfriend Steve. To the point where magazines barely cared to feature any candid pics of them unless Eddie was flipping off the camera. "Two Very in Love People Share a Kiss at Cafe Date" didn't really sell much when it was the 50th story like that.

So when Eddie slowed things down in the middle of the concert, getting that very familiar 'heart eyes' look.

"I know my baby's in the audience. Even though he has a very comfortable room backstage. Show me where you are beautiful." Eddie's voice was slightly rough from the first half of songs.

His eyes scanned the audience until he heard a bunch of screaming from his right. The crowd was vibrating and he knew someone had spotted Steve.

"There you are." Eddie bit his lip, grin threatening to split his face. "This next one's for you."

The crowd was a mix of screams and awws as the beginning melody of It's Always Been You was heard.

2. Another day, another venue. This time, the afternoon crowd at a music festival. It was one of Eddie's favorite kind of scenes. People of all types, letting the music take them in broad daylight. A good mix of diehard fans, casuals, and people who had never heard them play before.

Eddie knew for a fact that Steve was sitting in a little foldable chair, with some drink from one of the booths. He always looked so unassuming with his soft hair and even softer clothes. But Eddie could never let him forget his inner badass. Nor did he let anyone else forget.

"Lil pop quiz for my fans", Eddie started. "One of our fan favorites The Knight's Arrival is inspired by someone very special in my life. Can we get a chant going for the man who has always been my knight in shining armor?"

A very enthusiastic chant for Steve started and Eddie thought his heart might burst. It was like a triumphant reprisal of those times the school would cheer on the ex-king on game night.

3. Sometimes the band put an age restriction on a concert. Now Eddie was of the mind that children didn't need to be coddled or have things censored for them. But also, he didn't need to lay it all out when there was a kid in the audience.

It was these kinds of shows that Eddie let it all hang out. More than one song was inspired by his nights with Steve. His angel's voice even featured on one track, letting out husky moans as Eddie brought him to the brink in the recording booth.

And tonight Eddie was hot. Hot enough to have already taken his shirt off and throw it to the audience. Hot enough that when he went backstage and saw Steve, he was only thinking of one thing. Eddie kissed him deep, tongue licking at the roof of his mouth before a word could leave his lips.

Crash was keeping the audience going with a drum performance. One that started with a simple beat that slowly intensified.

"I want them to hear you", Eddie said against Steve's mouth.

Steve's hair was already tangled in his hair. "You wanna dangle me in front of them?", he smirked.

"Show them you're mine", Eddie started nibbling at his jaw. "Show 'em how good I love you down."

Eddie got the headset mic rigged onto Steve. His sweet boy was already hard, just as turned on from seeing Eddie in his element as he ever was. Eddie slid down to his knees and unzipped his boyfriend's pants.

It started quiet. Not even audible as Crash really got going on the drums and got close to the climax. The room erupted as he reached the end. And it was in the calming of their cheers that they finally began to hear it.

"Eddie, mmmfuck."

They stirred in unison. Steve's voice rang loud and clear as he received a pleasure the rest of them could only speculate on.

"Fuck, sso good. Don't stop. Don't stop-ahh."

For a moment all they heard was Steve's quickening breaths before he called out Eddie's name, dragging it out like he was falling down a well.

Eddie came out moments later, licking something off his lips to cacophonous cheers. The bassline to Take a Bite began. He wished he could've told his high school self that one day he'd get a standing ovation for blowing a guy.

4. "Before we get started tonight I gotta make an announcement!", Eddie came out, already on 100. "First, where's my angel baby. Help me find him."

As usual, a particular part of the audience went wild and moved in a way that could only mean Steve was there.

"Can I get a parting of the Red Sea?", Eddie asked, moving his hands apart and getting that part of the mob to split like Moses. Steve stood there in the middle.

"Get used to that gorgeous. My fellow rockers, scholars, and mischief makers - I am officially a kept man." He flashed the ring on his finger to a din of screams. "Wedding's next fall and we're registered at every corner liquor store! 5-6-7-8!"

5. Eddie felt like he was home. In the middle of a set, shredding in a way that made him feel alive. The current song made it even better. One of the best collaborative efforts of the band. All of their fingerprints were on this track.

The crowd was just as amped up, giving back everything they got. There truly was no place he'd rather be.

Then he caught sight of his Steve, standing just off stage in the wings. And he was overcome. None of this would be possible without him. And even if Eddie and his boys somehow made it to stardom, it all meant nothing without his sweetheart.

Eddie casually walked over, fingers still moving as he got closer to Steve. He only took his hands off his guitar to grab his fiance and dip him as they kissed. Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck. This wasn't his first time being kissed on stage.

And just as other times, the crowd went wild, while Jeff, Gareth, and Crash rolled their eyes through the playing.

6. Steve watched, absolutely lovestruck as Eddie sat on the couch, eating cereal. Dustin's baby, little Deana was propped up on cushions next to him, clearly satisfied as she sat there content. They were uncles babysitting for the weekend.

Steve walked over and grabbed the remote from off the coffee table, holding it like a mic. "All the babes out there, are you ready to rock?", he pointed to Deana.

Her new eyes got large at the movement and sound and her little fists waved in the air.

"But before I go on, I gotta give special love to someone tonight", Steve turned his gaze to Eddie. "To the greatest thing since sliced bread, I could watch you eat Coco Puffs all day."

"You're such a cornball", Eddie beamed, cheeks turning pink. "Can't believe you're doin it in front of a baby."

"Oh, don't tell me the god of rock is getting bashful? So when I wanna shout you out in front of our niece, it's cheesy. But when you call me out in front of thousands-"

"Shut up and kiss me." Eddie put the half finished bowl on the floor and grabbed Steve by the wrist, pulling him right into his lap.

Steve let out a little breath between kisses. "Dustin's gonna have a fit if he finds out we made out in front of his baby."

"What he don't know won't hurt him."

[halfagone]

Is it Canon or Fanon?

A little over a week ago, I received a very thought-provoking ask that wondered whether the Fenton parents could be considered good parents after everything they've done throughout the show. I did leave a response to that ask, and you can find the original answer here. But even afterwards, it had me thinking:

Why did we start depicting Jack and Maddie as Bad Parents to begin with?

I aim to answer this question through canon evidence to see where this argument might have come from. Now, something to keep in mind is that we still tend to ignore canon a lot of the time, so there may be some people who won't take this meta to mean all that much anyways. But for the purpose of fanfiction, we have to acknowledge that there needs to be an in-universe explanation to these events and sadly, the 'it's a Butch Hartman show' or 'it's an early 2000s cartoon' excuses don't really cut it.

So let's start with some basic stats. There are 49 episodes to the Danny Phantom cartoon (we will not be using the Graphic Novel, A Glitch in Time, for examples); 20 for the first season, 17 for the second, and 12 for the third. If you looked this up on Google, you might notice that these numbers don't line up with the episode list provided. This is because I counted any two-part episodes as one for convenience's sake. Season 2 has three two-parters: "Reign Storm", "The Ultimate Enemy", and "Reality Trip". Season 3 has "Phantom Planet".

Jack appears for 43 of those episodes, although he does not have any speaking lines in the episode, "Frightmare". Maddie, on the other hand, appears in 40 episodes. The three episodes that Maddie does not appear in, but Jack does, are as follows: "Memory Blank", "Flirting With Disaster", and "Double Cross My Heart".

Let's Start with Season 1:

"Mystery Meat": Jack is shown as dismissive to Danny and his friends' preferences, telling them, "True, I've never seen a ghost, but when I do, I'll be prepared. And so will you, whether you want to be or not." Later on, when Sam and Tucker are visibly shaking and Danny is panting from exhaustion, he doesn't realize something is off about this. When Jazz offers to drive Danny to school, the Fenton parents quickly assume that she's a ghost and go off to track them down... even despite her previous argument that she was mentally an adult (should I be concerned that Jazz called Danny an 'abused, unwanted wretch' to make a point to their parents?) A POINT TO MADDIE, she worried about hurting Jazz if she really wasn't a ghost but Jack quickly dismisses that, as their ghost-hunting device only hurts when gets into human hair (spoiler alert, it gets into Jazz's hair). She also insists that Danny is not a ghost, but unfortunately she ultimately doesn't try to stop Jack when he insist Jazz is a ghost. Standing aside and letting abuse play out does not mean Maddie is innocent of hurting her daughter too.

"Fanning the Flames": When Jazz and Danny are struggling to study for an upcoming test, Jack decides that they should put their kids into the 'Fenton Stockades' which is basically an iron maiden. And yes, the Fentons have an entire floor that is meant to torture people. I feel like that should probably be addressed at some point. A POINT TO MADDIE, she stood her ground and refused to let him put their children inside, and even locks him inside instead.

"Teacher of the Year": After hearing displeasing news about the state of Danny's grades in a parent-teacher conference, Maddie lectures Danny by saying, "Get this straight Danny. You're a Fenton. Fentons get As. Or in your father's case, B minuses." Before this, when Danny tried to explain himself, Jack shuts him up with, "Now that's enough of your sass talk mister." Do a lot of parents act like this? Yes. Does that make this a good, conductive way to help your child improve their grades? No, it does not. In fact, Maddie's response in particular probably reinforces the idea that Danny doesn't fit in with the rest of his family and further proves that Jazz is the favorite child. Not a great parenting moment.

"Fright Knight": In this episode, Jack tells Danny, "If I didn't consider it a sign of weakness, I'd weep with joy!" Not a very promising sign when a parent tells their child that it's wrong to show emotion. It's especially telling, however, when it's crying from joy and not even sadness. Yikes.

"13": This is the episode where Jazz 'dates' Johnny briefly, and we see Danny stalking them on their dates. I've seen people give Danny a decent amount of flack for that as well, so this would be a good time to say that the Fenton parents were there too and even encouraged him to keep stalking his sister. Danny was wrong to ignore Jazz's privacy like that, but he definitely learned it somewhere.

"Public Enemies": Here we see more of the Fenton parents' aggression towards ghosts. We get a line from Jack: "I'm gonna tear that ghost kid apart into a million different-" Notice something here? He recognizes that Phantom is a ghost 'kid' and yet still fully intends to shoot at him with the intent to hurt if not straight-up kill him. The only time Maddie disagrees with him is to insist that she does the dirty work because she has better aim than him. These are not the type of people you should let children stay with.

"Maternal Instincts": Okay, I gotta say it, this is a really cute episode. We get to see Maddie reminiscing over how close she and Danny used to be and wishing they had that bond again. Unfortunately she does get some points docked off for deciding what they should do as a bonding activity instesd of asking what Danny wanted to do and maybe learning more about his interests and who he is as a person now that he's a teenager. But there is this really sweet moment where Maddie tells Danny 'I love you' at the campsite which absolutely melted my heart and then later on when she saves Danny from the ghosts, Danny tells her she's awesome and gives her a hug. So sweet. But then she kinda ruins it by asking her son to act as a distraction and- Please do not ask your teenage children to keep skeevy old guys 'entertained' when you know he's a creep. A POINT TO JACK, while all this is going on he's defending his daughter and even shouts, "Back off, she's a minor!" That's some Dr. Doofenshmirtz energy right there, I respect it. He also talks about making Jazz an action figure, which was a really cute moment amidst the chaos.

"The Million Dollar Ghost": This episode is filled with some great Danny-Jack bonding moments and goes to show how much Danny cares about his father that he's willing to get caught to make Jack feel better about himself. We also get to see how much Jack cares about how Danny views him and he wants to be someone in Danny's eyes. Unfortunately, this is the episode where Danny gets lectured for not doing all his lab chores, such as cleaning the beakers and changing the ecto-filtrator- despite knowing that the portal could blow up if they don't change in time and knowing that Danny is bad at cleaning his own room. And we literally get a scene where Jack knocks something over and tells Danny to clean it up because he was too busy running around to do it himself. Is it important to give children chores? Yes, it teaches them responsibility. You should not be asking them to deal with hazardous, dangerous chemicals that can literally cause an explosion capable of killing people. Something to keep in mind.

Now let's look at Season 2:

"Doctor's Disorders": In this lovely (sarcasm) episode, we have Jack saying to Danny's face: "Poor Jazz. She's always been my favorite." I don't feel like this one needs much more explanation for how horrible this is. Also, this isn't really too relevant to the bad-parent-thing and more to the "they wouldn't take Danny's reveal well under other circumstances" thing, because Maddie literally says to Tucker: "Everybody knows humans can't have ghost powers." Which would technically, probably, dehumanize Danny in their eyes.

"Identity Crisis": There's one line in particular in this episode I wanted to point out, which is from Jack where he says, "Safety features? Why, safety features are for punks." ...I know this is probably supposed to be a joke, but when you think about it, it's even worse than you might think. In fanon we do tend to stress how forgetful the Fentons are when it comes to lab safety, but it's one thing to forget and it's a whole other thing to purposefully dismiss it. I could even argue that we're doing the Fentons a service by characterizing them as simply forgetful.

"The Fenton Menace": This is one of the episodes I referenced in the original ask as well, for its... plethora of concerning material. There are lines such as, "Whether it's air land or sea I won't stop until we capture a ghost and tear it apart. Molecule by molecule." A POINT TO MADDIE, she told her family she loved them by saying, "Nothing like spending quality family time with the people you love." However she immediately loses those points when she and Jack attempt to 'spin the crazy' out of Danny. The episode transcript reveals Danny's reaction to this, which is described by, "Danny screaming, his face and hair flying around. Zoom out to show him strapped to a table, which is attached to a metal arm. Zoom out to show the metal arm connected to a centrifuge-like device on the ceiling." As well as, "Danny is shaking, hair sticking up with bags under his eyes." Is this supposed to be a joke? I wouldn't know because quite frankly, I'm not laughing.

"The Fright Before Christmas": So in this episode we learn why Danny hates Christmas! Which is because he got peed on by a dog. As a baby. What kind of parent lets their baby get peed on by a dog? Again, child neglect is a criminally punishable offense, and if they had left him out, in the cold, with dog piss on him, we could have had a lot bigger problems here. They also ignore both their children for most of this episode due to their arguing, although they go back later on and tell Danny that he shouldn't be alone for Christmas and where was all this concern before?

"Secret Weapons": Ah... This is the episode where it happens. Here we get the infamous interaction. Please note how a ghost is referred to as an 'it'. Not a person, not even a kid. But an 'it' that can feel pain that will go ignored.

Jazz: "Does it hurt the ghost?" Maddie: [laughs] "Oh, Jazz! You know your father and I don't care about that. Jack: "Yeah! If we hear it scream, then we know it's working."

"Micro-Management": At the very end of this episode, Jack makes a comment to Danny, "I'm so proud. Our boy finally has the physical prowess of a 60 year old president. Here's to you son." Clearly it's meant to be a compliment, but I don't know about you guys, but I wouldn't take this as a compliment.

"Masters of All Time": This one takes a more distressing turn, because after Maddie catches Danny for snooping around, she has his strapped down to a table and fires a laser at him to interrogate him, thinking he's a ghost (though the laser doesn't hit him, just threatens him, which... isn't much better). And this is after he's already insisted that he's her son. He is still very clearly a child, and even if she doesn't believe that he's her son (for admittedly understandable reasons, people usually remember when they bear children), the fact that she strapped him to a table at all does not look favorably on her. Especially when he very clearly believed that she was his mother, and he was her son. And she still did this to him. Yes, there were time shenanigans involved, but that doesn't make this any easier on Danny just because he knows the truth.

"Reality Trip": This episode showcases that the Fenton parents can actually be decent parents. While they have a hard time believing the truth at first, they do eventually accept it. However, it is still important to remember that Danny could have never known what their reaction would be, so his fear is understandable and rooted in real concern for his life. Here are some of the best points from this transcript:

Jack: "Imagine, our own son has had ghost powers all this time and has kept them a secret from us. [confused] But we love him! [turning to Maddie] I wonder why he didn't trust us enough to tell us." Jazz: "[sarcastically] Hmm, let me guess. [mimicking Jack] "Hey, Maddie, let's destroy the ghost!" [mimicking Maddie] "No, Jack, let's dissect the ghost." [mimicking Jack again] "I know, let's catch the ghost and rip it apart molecule by molecule!" [normal voice, sarcastic again] You guys are so understanding." [Jack and Maddie drop their gazes, ashamed.]

Moving onto Season 3:

"Eye for an Eye": This is more a passing mention, but Jack seems to be a little obsessed with the GIW and huge fans of their work, and you do see it some more in "Livin' Large" later on in the season as well.

"Girls' Night Out": We see Jack trying to make an effort with Danny in this episode again. I did point out in the original ask reply that Jack was obviously trying to be a good father for Danny, which definitely deserves some points. However, it is still important to point out how generally uninterested Danny was in the bonding activity. It goes back to how Maddie ignored the chance to give Danny a choice, and how dismissive they tend to be towards him. I still want to award Jack a point for looking for advice from 'Father/Son Relationships For Stupids!' but I do so half-heartedly. Their interactions in this episode definitely reek with discomfort, but considering everything that has gone down in between now and "The Million Dollar Ghost", that does make sense.

"Torrent of Terror": This is another instance of extreme lack of safety precautions- the airbags don't deploy? In the GAV??? Somewhere out there, OSHA is crying.

"Forever Phantom": Maddie and Jack show a lot of anti-Phantom rhetoric in this episode. So this tracks how uncomfortable and/or threatened Danny might feel at home. Some examples include:

Jack: "He keeps this up he's liable to make people forget he's nothing but a putrid rancid ball of self-aware protoplasm."

Maddie: "Don't be fooled sweetie. He's up to something. Remember that time he attacked the mayor? Or stole everyone's Christmas presents? Once a filthy ghost always a filthy ghost."

"Livin' Large": Something to remember, the GIW intend to fire a missile into the Ghost Zone after gaining access to the Fentons' portal. While they didn't have the password right away, it cannot be understated that the Fentons basically gave away their house in exchange for wealth. Thankfully the missile was just a fake and not a real weapon of mass destruction, but do not mistake this to mean that- had it been real- the GIW wouldn't have gone through with it. And the Fenton parents would have been just as responsible.

And that concludes our canon research for this argument! Let's wrap things up with some stats. Of the 49 episodes in the show, we have evidence in 21 episodes. That is roughly 43% of the show, and this does not include comments that Danny has made about his parents and how they treat him. Obviously, at the end of the day, human error is possible. There is always a chance that I could have missed another piece of information, or perhaps another thoughtful addition to this list. However, 43% is no laughing matter.

Yes, the Fenton parents had their shining moments, but with all the other evidence presented that overshadows those little gems, can you confidently say that they are good parents? And most of all, if you were in Danny's shoes, would you say the same thing?

It's easy to excuse this as a cartoon. When you're writing in this world, playing with these characters, that excuse instantly evaporates.

Thank you for reading, I hope you all learned something about the Fenton parents like I did.

[satoruxx]

sorry to go feral in your inbox but ghostface!miguel who is crazy about you (in a good way I promise) and does everything in his power to protect you and keep those horrible college guys from your classes away from you but you only know him as the mysterious gravelly voice who calls you every night that you’ve grown fond of as your personal lullaby-

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader | 1.5k words summary: ghostface!miguel, stalking, possessive miguel, violence, death, killing, obsessive behavior, suggestive, killer miguel ofc, reader is WAY too trusting, miggy just loves you so much !! rheya’s note: NONNIE BABES YOU GENIUS !! he absolutely would oh my fucking god. i am so normal about this (going feral) i was literally squealing while writing this it was rough. why is this concept hot? do i need therapy? probably. anyways he's a creep in this but in a good way? (the way this ask literally got me inspired to draw ghostface!miguel UGH) anyways ENJOY !!

miguel isn't a bad guy. he's not. he's one of the good guys actually, a hero. he's always been a hero.

it's not his fault that there are some assholes in the world that are fucked up, preying on innocent people who just want to live their lives.

sweet, innocent people like you.

how a girl as sweet and precious as you managed to get yourself surrounded by such horrible people is beyond him. and you're so nice too, always assuming that nobody has it out for you or that everyone has some good in them. with that mindset, you were just asking to be put in danger.

so, being the hero that he is, it's his obligation to look out for you, right?

it starts off quietly. he doesn't make an effort to connect with you, choosing to watch you from the shadows as he silently tracks your day. miguel is nothing if not observant, mentally noting every single person you interact with or looks your way. and if they get a little too close, a little too comfortable? well, then he'd just have to take care of that for you, wouldn't he?

he hates that one flirty coworker of yours, always leaning a little too close to you and chatting like he's your fucking boyfriend. miguel can see the little crease of discomfort in your brows whenever that coworker is nearby, and he decides that he hates that expression on you. but you feel fine afterwards, because when your coworker goes missing the next day, you send a quick thank you to the heavens, trying to push down your guilt.

he finds out that you try to make some extra money by tutoring a guy at your school. and when miguel watches the two of you through the windows of the library he feels hatred like no other run through his veins because he doesn't like how this guy looks at you. that asshole probably didn't even need tutoring to begin with, using it as a pathetic excuse to get close to you. what a fucking joke. but you don't have to stress about tutoring anymore because the next day you get a text saying the kid has transferred schools. you never hear from him again.

oh but the worst ones are the ones who ask you out on dates. they don't even know how lucky they are, getting to see you all dolled up and pretty for them, only to absolutely destroy your hopes for a good time. it makes miguel so angry he sees red. every fucking time one of those losers makes a comment that has your shoulders slumping with disappointment, a miserable frown on your pretty lips by the end of the night, he feels sick to his stomach. but he hopes that when you see your date's body on the news the next morning, you won't be so disappointed anymore.

only after watching over you for a while does miguel decide to finally talk to you, finding the perfect hiding spot to watch you through your window as you pick up your ringing phone. he has to stop himself from groaning because your voice sounds so much sweeter when it's in his ear, smooth and precious as you ask who it is. and he can't resist playing with you, dying to hear more as he sighs behind his mask.

"tell me your name and maybe i'll tell you mine." miguel answers, gravelly voice practically purring through the speaker. he can see the confusion on your face as you pace your kitchen, reaching for a bag of chips before walking back to your couch and settling in to watch a movie. he hears the screams from the tv and bites his lip. "what's that noise?"

"a movie." you reply, the expression on your face getting less guarded as you listen to his voice.

"a scary movie?" he asks, leaning against the edge of the roof so that he's got the perfect view of you. you take a chip and pop it in your mouth, chewing quietly, and he follows the movement of your lips with eager eyes.

"mhm," you nod, and miguel thinks it's so fucking cute the way you move your head even though you think he can't see you.

"you like scary movies?" he asks with a hum, and you voice out a yes. his eyes remain hooded and attentive as he effortlessly continues the conversation. "you got a favorite, sweetheart?"

he catches the way you melt under his sweet words, and miguel decides then and there that he's never letting you go. he listens to your answers with a grin, tucking his knife away and watching you animatedly talk to him for the remainder of the night.

and the rest is history.

you tell him about a guy who's bothering you? he'll bury him. someone made you cry? he'll break their legs. your date stood you up? he'll stab them so many times he loses count. and then after all of that, he'll call you like he always does, rumbling honeylike words into his phone as he casually watches you from behind his mask.

"and how was your day today, sweetheart?" he'll drawl out, late at night as he perches on the neighboring roof to your apartment. with the way he's angled he can perfectly see the innocent little smile on your face as you settle in bed, talking on the phone like you're not scared of him at all.

and you shouldn't be, because he'd never hurt you, of course.

some nights you'll giddily tell him about the most exciting parts of your day, smiling and giggling until you fall asleep without a care in the world. but on the nights when you complain or whine about somebody that's made you upset, wronged you, or god forbid, showed interest in you? well, those are the nights miguel has to grit his teeth and clench his fists, trying to control the flare of pure rage that courses through him. he lulls you to sleep with sweet words, trying to keep his cool but still vibrating with anger because who the fuck do they think they are, getting near you like that?

"don't worry, pretty girl," he sighs into the phone, twirling his knife between his fingers. "i'm sure they'll stop bothering you soon enough."

and they do. but you being the precious oblivious little thing you are, assume that you're just lucky. a guardian angel, you had said, was watching over you. miguel had just chuckled into the phone, deep and rich as he smirked at you from the roof once again.

"guardian angel? well lucky you, huh?" he had asked, feeling all too pleased with himself. you agreed with a nod.

well, if that's what you wanted to see him as he had no problem playing guardian angel for you.

and no he doesn't even want you to find out, because the last thing he wants to do is scare you. no no, he'd much rather protect you from the shadows, eliminating every single threat could ever harm a hair on your pretty little head. his reward comes in the form of you living your life, carefree smiles and all.

and granted he feels much more rewarded when he calls you late at night, deep voice teasing with an underlying sense of possessiveness as he speaks to you about anything and everything. he doesn't understand why and how you decided that he was safe to talk to, but you do, laughing and sighing into the phone until you've dozed off.

and if you've accidentally left your windows open, well of course being the gentleman he is, miguel will close them for you. but not before he stands at your bedside, raising his mask to watch you sleep peacefully. such a pretty little thing, so sweet and gentle. and after pulling himself away from your sleeping form, he quietly shuts the window behind him, yanking his mask back down with a smirk because he doesn't want anyone else to see you all vulnerable like that.

you were too trusting to begin with, but you trusting him is alright. after all he's the only one who's been looking out for you. anyone else tries to get near you and he'll have no choice but to tear their limbs off. they could be a threat to you, right?

but that's why he'll never let you out of his sight.

you're his after all.

[tossawary]

I do like time travel fics for a variety of reasons. It can be fun to see a "perfect run" fix-it fic running through the canon storyline again. There is a little suspension of disbelief required for some of them, because at some point, the little changes for the better or big tragedies averted should start to mess with the world. Very good time travel fics take this Butterfly Effect into account.

It is VERY fun to think about time-traveling characters who immediately break the plot, because they fail to or don't even try to keep things on a certain track. I love seeing authors use this jumping point to explore entirely new directions for canon. It's off-roading time!!!

Some characters are happy to work within the systems of their worlds. They'll put up with the little indignities of having do to things again and are able to act their way through a redo. (And apparently have incredibly good memories, like, damn.) The cost of keeping things roughly the same is something that they're willing to pay in order to reap specific benefits at the end of the journey.

Other characters would prefer to break the systems of their worlds. They have no patience to play by someone else's rules if they have the power to do otherwise. They may think that the world is broken as it is and needs to be changed. They may be unable to let certain injustices happen again no matter the cost to their ability to predict the future. (I admit, I have a preference for this, because I think it's more interesting, and if the protagonist is a heroic figure, I like the idea that every single life is worth trying to save if you can try.)

Anyway, this is all to say that I just read the last 100 chapters of "Naruto" and apparently Naruto was the only person keeping Sasuke from following through on his unhinged and vague supervillain plans at the end there. If you sent Sasuke back into the past, let's say from a battle with Kaguya going poorly back to the Uchiha massacre or something, and he retains his adult body or any of his abilities (full Sharingan + Rinnegan)? I cannot see that Sasuke trying to give Konoha a shot again. I don't think he trusts like that anymore.

I think he would immediately 1) kill Itachi if Itachi forces him to do it and he can't convince Itachi to join his side, 2) kill Danzo and any ROOT agents who get in his way, (2.5) kill Zetsu and Madara if he can find and catch them, and also Obito if Obito forces him,) 3) kill or try to kill the Third Hokage, and potentially 4) try to declare himself the new Fifth Hokage. Winning a lot of these fights just by taking eeeeeverybody by surprise. Or something like that, you know? I think he'd at least try to immediately do some reckless revenge murder.

If time-traveling Sasuke is stuck in his child body for a redo, and can't set himself up as the new dictator of Konoha or the new shared enemy of the shinobi world or whatever, then I think that he might just run off and join Orochimaru again. I think he would make early deals with Orochimaru for the relative freedom that offers.

Like, Sasuke just does not strike me as a particularly stable person who gives a shit about maintaining a comfortable life for everyone around him. He does not care about Konoha's image. He does not want to settle complacently into a comfortable life within this corrupt state. I think he'd rather drag out the rot and set everything on fire than sit through the frustrating false civility of politics or go to school again, if he had any choice in the matter.

A time-traveling Sasuke would not behave like a time-traveling Naruto or Sakura! So, if I had to do a time-traveling Sasuke, I'd probably reach for the "break-it" rather than the "fix-it". Konoha struggles to deal with this new, mysterious, Rinnegan-wielding Uchiha who appeared out of the middle of an incomplete massacre, just killed the Hokage, and declared himself the new one, completing the Uchiha coup at the eleventh hour. (People are saying he looks like Uchiha Izuna come back to life, apparently???) Oh, shit, someone secretly go get Tsunade and Jiraiya right now, fuck.

[pinkacademiaprincess]

“she’s like a real life elle woods…”

fictional study icons guide, part 2: elle woods

relentlessly chase your goals

similar to rory, elle set her sights on harvard law and let nothing get in her way. people doubted her, she had no background in law, and nevertheless she made it happen. having a goal and wanting something is one thing, but you have to make it happen. elle spoke with an academic counselor, created a plan for herself, and meticulously checked off all the requirements. you can’t just sit around and hope you get what you want! determine the end goal, outline all the steps that you need to take to get there, and get to it.

have faith in yourself

throughout the process of getting into and attending harvard law, elle dealt with so many people who doubted her, were mean, and underestimated her. if she listened to all those people, she never would have applied or stayed in law school. no one knows you like you know yourself, so do not let strangers’ negative opinions of you rule your life. people assumed elle was unintelligent and not fit for law school, but she knew that she could succeed and she did. no one decides what you can or can’t do but you. tune out any criticism that isn’t constructive, focus on your strengths, and seek your goals.

let your personality shine

elle always had a strong sense of self. even when she started going to law school, in a totally new environment from her previous college, she stayed true to her personality. she continued dressing in pink outfits, getting her hair & nails done, and got school supplies to match her girly aesthetic. when you go to class, let your personality show through your outfits, accessories, school supplies - find little ways to bring yourself happiness through self- expression. especially when school and classes might seem to rule your life, these small personal touches will help keep you positive.

study with others

elle used the tactic of studying with others to help stay focused & accountable. when she was studying for the lsat, she had one of her sorority sisters keep her on track & practice with her. for some, it can be helpful to “body double,” or to have someone else with you while you study/ work to keep you on task. it might also help to have a study buddy to quiz you and work through problems together. at harvard she also tries to join a study group, which shows she generally thrives when studying/ working in a group setting. if this is something that works for you, find a classmate or group of classmates willing to meet up & body double or study together!

stay active

nowadays, a lot of schooling requires you to either sit at a laptop or hunch over notes for countless hours of your day. being seated for so long with questionable posture is not good for you, humans are meant to be active! elle is shown walking on a treadmill while she studies, and combining physical activity with schoolwork can be really effective for some. engaging your body while engaging your mind might help you focus better. otherwise, try to get some daily movement to give your body a break from being stiff & seated. find physical activity that you enjoy - going for walks outdoors, taking a sports class, hitting the gym, doing a youtube workout video, playing music & dancing like a maniac - move your body and have fun with it! in the words of elle, “exercise gives you endorphins, endorphins make you happy.”

pet therapy!

elle woods is always accompanied by her beloved chihuahua bruiser. spending time with animals is a great way to boost your mood & relieve stress. if you have a pet, spending time with them, petting them, having them in your lap or nearby are all ways you can take advantage of their presence to feel happier & more relaxed.

that’s all! elle is such an inspiration to me tbh. she really embodies that being true to yourself & being kind to others are the keys to success. good luck in your studies! 🩷

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

I wanted to ask, what would it be like if Fischl had an S/O who not only plays along with her, but is just as much as a Chuunibyou as her? I'd kinda like to see her reaction to that. Maybe see what the other Mondstadt folks think as well? Oh, and bonus points if the S/O does the whole Shining Finger thing. from Gundam. That "this hand of mine glows with an awesome powerrr!" thing.

(Genshin Impact/Honkai: Star Rail)

Fischl, Ayaka, Rosaria, Eula, Furina, Shinobu, Bronya, and Seele with a very dramatic S/O

YOU ACTIVATED MY SLEEPER AGENT KEYWORDS, YOU MENTIONED GUNDAM, AND SPECIFICALLY G GUNDAM

Fischl's eyes seemed to gleam when she first realized that her S/O not only indulged her antics, but even joined her!

Their title was almost as impressive as her own, 'The King/Queen of Hearts'!

(Fischl) "Tell me dear, S/O, how can the fabled 'King/Queen of Hearts' measure up to the Prinzessin der Verurteilung?"

S/O clenched their fist and raised it in front of their chest triumphantly.

(S/O) "You may have your electric arrows, but I have these GOLDEN FINGERS!"

Oz on the other hand was completely suffering.

Well, at least he didn't have to translate for S/O, they were completely blunt and to the point, unlike his master.

Fischl did adore S/O for how brave and caring they were, but it was during a battle that made her heart first skip a beat.

(S/O) "HERE I GO!-"

S/O's pyro vision flared up as their fists began glowing a flaming gold, catching both Oz and Fischl by surprise.

(Fischl) "W-What?! S/O was serious with knowing an ultimate technique?!"

(Oz) "I thought they were in a similar boat to you, mein Fräulein-"

(S/O) "THIS HAND OF MINE IS BURNING RED! IT'S LOUD ROAR TELLS ME TO GRASP VICTORY!"

They rushed past Fischl and Oz, who could only watch in awe.

(S/O) "ERUPTING, BURNING...FIIINGEEEEERRRR!"

Their fist immediately crashed through a Ruin Guard (somehow), and lifted them off the ground with one arm.

(S/O) "AND NOW, HEAT END!"

The Ruin Guard exploded violently afterwards, with S/O's fist going back to normal.

(Oz) "Wow, really?"

(Fischl) THAT IS SO COOL! "...Ahem, a fine display, dear S/O."

Everyone in Mondstadt thought that Fischl had just found another roleplayer that took things way too seriously and were somewhat dreading talking to them.

Only to realize S/O wasn't doing a bit, despite the fact they were just as dramatic as her.

They were just insane.

Ayaka knew her S/O was a bit on the...flashy side, to put it gently.

They screamed all their attack names at the top of their lungs, yet she knew no one was better and hand to hand combat than they were. Especially when they began actually glowing red or ignited into flames.

All that did not matter terribly much to Ayaka. S/O was someone she loved, for their caring and valiant nature.

But, someone like S/O was something she had never expected to face, and they both drove her insane, and yet brought contrasting calmness to her life.

Nothing however would ever compare to meeting S/O's master for the first time.

Ayaka and S/O were travelling down the streets of Inazuma, until everyone, including the guards were watching someone coming down the street.

(Ayaka) "...Is...that person standing on their horse?"

Suddenly, S/O's eyes widened, and rushed through the crowd, unintentionally leaving Ayaka behind. She quickly followed behind and saw a man standing perfectly on the horse as it trotted along the streets of Inazuma, arms crossed and an expression that was razor focused.

(S/O) "MASTER!"

The man's head turned to S/O, and both of them exchanged a glance before Ayaka saw their master leap off the horse, extending a fist as they landed perfectly in front of them.

(Strange Man) "Answer me, S/O! THE SCHOOL OF THE UNDEFEATED OF THE EAST!"

S/O knelt down as they struck a dramatic pose, answering their master.

(S/O) "THE WINDS OF THE KING!"

In the middle of the city, they began exchanging rapid punches that traded perfectly blow for blow, so fast that even Ayaka struggled to keep track of.

(Strange Man) "ZENSHIN!"

(S/O) "KEIRETSU!"

(Both) "TEMPA KYOURAN!"

Both their fists collided before their other arms extended outwards in sync, screaming once again.

(Both) "LOOK! THE EAST, IS BUUUURRNING REEEED!"

Ayaka watched with a strange mixture of horror, second-hand embarrassment, admiration, and jealousy.

(Ayaka) ...I-Is it possible for S/O to teach me how to do that too...?

When Rosaria first met S/O, she thought they were going to be a troublemaker.

She was correct, but they fought to keep Mondstadt safe as much as she did.

But while she did it with subtlety, S/O grabbed subtlety with their literal shining golden fingers, and made it violently explode, all while screaming their attack.

The first time she had watched S/O perform their "Shining Finger" attack on a treasure hoarder, she stood there completely slackjawed.

(Rosaria) "...Oh my Bratabos, you're completely serious."

Rosaria thought S/O was doing some kind of bit like this 'Fischl' character she had heard about.

No, they were just that dramatic for no real apparent reason, and they had the strength to back their nonsense up.

She even doubted that herself could take S/O in a straight fight.

In a strange way, it attracted her to them. They were clearly not afraid of what anyone thought of them, only caring if the people they loved were safe. She had respect for that.

But...why were they like this?

They couldn't just defeat their enemies normally, no, they HAD to explode. Every single one of them.

Sometimes S/O's Vision wasn't even active, she would just see them explode after they had shouted "HEAT END!".

(Rosaria) "You are both the best and the worst person I know of to clean up a mess of bandits discreetly."

(S/O) "Hah! The King/Queen of Hearts doesn't need to fight discreetly! I only fight with my fists!"

Honestly, as strange as this was, she also found it to be the funniest thing in the world. Maybe there SHOULD be more people like S/O and Fischl after all.

Eula couldn't exactly call anyone out for being "flashy".

But her S/O took that word to a whole new level. Especially with their manner of speech.

It made Eula look polite in comparison. S/O appeared to be playing the bit of a mysterious, strong, and rude warrior who only thought with their fists.

She had seen them become soft and loving, hell they were a couple, she knows they can become serious.

But after watching them fight a few times, she's starting to believe that S/O wasn't doing a bit like herself, and she did not know how to feel about that.

Eula watched S/O pull out a sword made of pure flames from their hands, wielding it in both their palms.

(S/O) "THIS HAND OF MINE GLOWS WITH AN AWESOME POWER! IT'S BURNING GRIP TELLS ME TO DEFEAT YOU!"

S/O slashed apart the Ruin Hunter with every swing, scorching the grass ablaze with their passion.

(S/O) "TAKE THIS! MY LOVE, MY ANGER, AND ALL OF MY SORROW! SHINING FINGER SWOOOOOOORD!"

With one final slash, the Ruin Hunter was split in half, with S/O leaping back as their pyro vision died down slowly.

Honestly, Eula didn't know if she should be impressed, cringing, or not be thinking that was one of the coolest things she had ever seen.

Probably a mixture of all three.

Honestly? Furina kind of gets it.

You spend so long doing a bit, it kind of becomes a part of you.

That being said, Furina isn't entirely sure if S/O's behavior was entirely theatrics.

But that's fine! It's a part of them after all, not like she had any room to criticize.

Whenever S/O wasn't in the room, she would be clenching her fists and throwing punches in the air, mimicking their tone.

(Furina) "How did they say it...? Ah, right! This hand of mine glows with an awesome power!"

Furina giggled as she said it out loud before putting on a 'serious expression' frowning as she concentrated.

(Furina) "It's loud roar tells me to grasp victory! SHINING, FIINGEEER!" giggle

As she turned to face the door, she nearly leapt out of her skin to see S/O watching her with a highly unamused face.

(Furina) "GAH! S-S/O! How long were you-"

(S/O) "The School of Master Asia cannot be replicated by simply mimicking my actions, Furina. It comes from within!"

Furina pouted a little.

(Furina) "It doesn't look that different from theatre, S/O! You're as dramatic as I am!"

(S/O) "Dramatic? Don't be absurd, I'm completely-"

(Furina) "You are not telling me you can say all that with a straight face every single time!"

(S/O) "...Can you not?"

...Either S/O was the best actor, or they lacked the self awareness that she (kinda) had.

Oh good Archons, please no.

Shinobu already had to reign in Itto and the others, now her lover was adding fuel to the fire.

Or more like an explosion to it.

S/O had taught Itto and the other members of the Arataki gang their strange dances.

Now instead of dealing with one, she had to deal with seven other idiots shouting about Erupting Burning Fingers.

(Shinobu) "S/O, you're a terrible influence."

(S/O) "Huh? What are you-"

(Shinobu) "Sara had just told me that Itto and the others were making a ruckus in the public square."

(S/O) "What ruckus can the dances my master and I-"

(Shinobu) "They're trying to match the speed of you and Master Asia, but end up only punching themselves in the face."

(S/O) "Hah! Looks like I need to train them harder-"

(Shinobu) "S/O."

S/O sighed loudly, adjusting their red headband.

(S/O) "Fine. I'll reign them in myself."

Personally, she thinks their nature is...strange, to put it mildly.

She has no idea how S/O and their master became so eccentric, but they meant as well as she and the others did so...Not too much harm could be done?

And admittedly, she did find it really cool that S/O's vision could make things explode in such a spectacular fashion.

But why did so many people in her life have to have some kind of screw loose with them?

There was only one word that could come to Bronya's mind watching S/O in action.

(Bronya) "What?"

She had been trained all her life to be noble, courteous, and elegant.

And here came S/O with all the elegance of a cannon.

S/O fought inside a machine that mimicked their actions 1 to 1. While the suit itself was strong, it was S/O who made it surpass the limits.

Their knowledge on martial arts was unsurpassed by anyone she had ever known.

But in a strange way, it made Bronya admire them. They wore their heart on their sleeve, with no one telling them how to live. That was really admirable.

And secretly, she found herself quoting S/O many times as she was training with her weapons. Much to her amusement and horror.

But the first time she watched them in action could not compare to anything.

The machine's wings flared out and formed an energy halo, with S/O's hand becoming a blinding fiery light.

Their chest opened up and revealed a large glowing orb, with the symbol of the King/Queen of hearts flashing in front of it.

Before Bronya could even question what S/O was doing, she watched them fly past all the Silvermane guards and save them by driving their robotic fist into the enemy.

(S/O) "BURNING, FIIIIINGEEEER!"

On command, the creature exploded into a brilliant light, making everyone recoil as their enemies fled in terror.

S/O turned around, their machine crossing its arms and standing dramatically on top of a hill, staring down at everyone.

(S/O) "Behold, THE SCHOOL OF MASTER ASIA! THE UNDEFEATED SCHOOL OF THE EAST!"

(Silvermane Guard) "...O-Okay...?"

Bronya had much of the same reaction, but a slight blush overtook her cheeks.

(Bronya) "That was...incredible!"

(Silvermane Guard) "Ma'am?"

(Bronya) "A-AHEM! Men, we continue onwards! Remember our training, and show that we are not to be surpassed!"

It was completely stupid how S/O shouted their moves but...damn, if it wasn't effective.

Seele sighs whenever she watches S/O in action.

Their moves were completely unnecessary, way too flashy, and the thing that annoyed her the most?

They worked. Like, there was nothing to counter S/O's idiotic moves, nor anything that could actually survive them.

It worked, and she hated that it did.

Seele simply steps out the way of an incoming monster part that had exploded spectacularly.

(Seele) "I will never understand how that machine of yours makes everything it touches detonate. It's like everything's made out of Natasha's grenades to you."

(S/O) "HAH! You are just watching the King/Queen of Hearts in action, Seele! Try to keep up!"

Her eye twitched. Oh now it was ON!

She had a great deal of respect for her S/O, truthfully. But it was dwarfed by her annoyance of them as well.

They would go on about complete nonsense, and yet when they were together, S/O could be a surprisingly normal and honest person.

Then she would watch them in the fight club and watch S/O in their machine grab someone's head, ready to make it explode.

(S/O) "Article 1: A Unit whose head section has been destroyed is disqualified!"

(Man) "H-HEY! THAT'S MY ACTUAL HEAD!"

(S/O) "Then I have won this fight."

Seele had never heard about these articles, or schools on this planet. Maybe it was an offworld thing.

...God, she hoped that whoever trained S/O wouldn't meet Natasha or the kids.

[ghouljams]

i absolutely love your professor ghost and love series <333. i’m curious what you think will be the event that pushes them over the edge of wistful pining to an actual relationship🫣🫣🫣it would have to require an extreme event or something bc old man simon is way too deep in his fantasies to actually do anything about them😐😐😐

It's a the way there isn't a single thing. There's no change, there's no rejection, there's a consistency that drives Ghost mad. Love is as she always is, and he can't stand it anymore. She interrupts his lecture, she presses close and smiles at him, she smells like rosehip and honey and her lips are so soft looking up close. But she keeps leaving, winding him up and leaving him. It's a dance he can't keep up with, one that has born a new school of philosophy and pain. Love gathers her papers and turns to leave with a smile and quiet 'thank you' and Ghost?

Ghost grabs Love by the back of the neck, catching her tight before she can make her escape. The motion of it jolts her stopping her in her tracks. There's only so much flirting a man can stomach before he starts getting agitated. He doesn't want to scare her, not badly anyway, he just wants her to stop playing with him. He's past delusional, he's going insane. He's imagining a future he shouldn't be, swiping her things, waiting for her just to be disappointed. He's writing, loving to the point of creation, to the point of philosophy.

The absolute devotion in her eyes, the soft flutter of her lashes when he reels her back in and cages her against his chest, God. He pulls her hair tight in his fist, his cock twitching as she settles her hands on his chest. He should dismiss class early, but he doubts anyone would clear out of the lecture hall fast enough for him to bend her over the lectern. Ghost settles on his previous plan of asking Love what her fucking problem is.

"You 'avin' fun?" He asks, his voice a low growl. Love hums, spreads her fingers wide over his pecs, before curling them in the fabric of his button down.

"Be having more with your hand around my throat." She tells him, still flirting, and still getting a reaction from him. Ghost tightens his grip, tugs her head back, and watches her lips part around a sigh.

Does she even know every vulnerability that she displays? The bared throat, clear path to major organs, a lack of awareness that teeters on trusting. God, she trusts him.

The knowledge licks at him like holding his hand too close to an open flame. It tightens in his chest, makes his stomach churn. What has he done to earn that? What can he do to make her take it back, to make her take all of it back? Every touch, every spare glance, every word out of her mouth. She could take it all back and he'd still be here, he'd still have seen her and wanted her, wanted to know her. He'd still have seen her name on emails and known there was something missing from him. He'd still have wallowed in his misery, in a world- a life- without her.

"Why're ya doin' this to me?" He feels it fall out of him, pleading, the question he never could come up with an answer to, even with every degree of philosophy he could scrounge up.

"Because it feels right," She murmurs, "doesn't it?"

"No." Ghost insists. Love blinks, her eyes sliding over him, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips.

"You don't want me?"

There's such a vulnerability, a disbelief, in her voice that he wants to scream: that's not it. That's not it. He'd be lying with just a twitch of a nod, and lying has never suited Ghost, withholding sure, but not lying. The way she looks at him tugs bile up his throat, makes the pain in his chest clench that much tighter.

The universe has only ever taken from him. No good deed has ever gone unpunished in Ghost's life. He's built his camp on sorrow and rage, but it bites out of him to tell her:

"I've never wanted anythin' else."

[fayes-fics]

Mrs Bridgerton

Mrs Bridgerton Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Modern AU. Your ex-husband craves you in a way you had no idea about until one fateful call...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, explicit language and thoughts, dirty talk, sexting, sex tape, masturbation, pregnancy kink, smidge of breeding kink. Mentions of marriage, divorce, pregnancy, custody, parenting, heartbreak, emotions. Bit angsty maybe? Not sure.

Word Count: 4.3k

Authors Note: This is an anon request fill from January here. (tldr summary: ex-husband Benedict can't stop thinking about you) Nonny, I changed up a couple of details of your ask; the porn he watches is your old sex tapes from when you were married. Also, he doesn't call once he was spent; he accidentally calls very much in the act ;) I hope that is okay. Guys, I have no idea what this is; sorry. Thanks to @colettebronte for checking I haven't completely lost it and @eleanor-bradstreet for the gif used above. <3

“Mrs Bridgerton!.... Mrs Bridgerton!” A teacher calls out across the playing field as she jogs towards you. It takes you a few seconds to realise she is indeed addressing you. It's been a couple of years since you went by that name—almost a ghost from the past at this point.

“Ah, actually, it’s Ms y/l/n now,” you correct as she draws closer. “I’m, well, I’m divorced from Emilia’s dad,” you explain somewhat apologetically.

“Oh, I am so very sorry! I'm new here. I just asked her if her parents were here, and she pointed you out.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It's an entirely fair assumption to make,” you placate, shielding your eyes from the sun to catch Emilia's gaze and give her the thumbs up at the end of the grassy running track.

“Well, I just need one of you to sign this permission form for the trip to the Science Museum next week,” the teacher states, thrusting a clipboard towards you.

“Oh certainly, no problem,” you assure, taking the proffered pen and signing on the dotted line she indicates. You know how excited Emilia is about that upcoming trip, even though she insists on going to the museum with you or her father at least once every few months.

“Wonderful, thank you.”

You just nod as another teacher brings them all to the starting line with a blast from their whistle, and your focus shifts entirely to cheering on your five-year-old daughter in her first school race.

-----

He knows you haven't seen him, and he doubts even Emilia has clocked him, wearing a baseball cap pulled low as he is. He deliberately keeps a low profile when you arrive. He is here to see Emilia on her first sports day. Only that. Or so he keeps telling himself.

But then he sees you, and something in his stomach knots hard. It’s been more than two years, and still, every time, it floors him. A few months after your split, he took to using Eloise as the go-between for your shared custody arrangements and has never stopped. Since then, he has not seen you in person, too cowardly to face you. His biggest mistake was letting you go.

You met in your late twenties at a party hosted by mutual friends, and that night, he knew his life would never be the same. Something about the connection was instant and electric. He had the best sex of his life, right there in a spare room of a party. Both drunk and foolish, you didn't use protection. So it was only a few weeks into your burgeoning relationship when you found yourselves staring dumbfounded at a blue and white stick that would alter your lives forever. You married quietly two months later at the town hall, with just a few family members and close friends attending, neither of you wanting a big fuss. It was a big gamble in many ways, but you were both willing to try, crazily in love and filled with a youthful optimism that can be so blinding.

All was well until parenting a newborn drove you both to exhaustion and beyond. A wedge grew between you, even as your beautiful daughter developed into the best miniature version of both of you, with his beauty and your brains. You tried to make it work. But bickering about petty things and distancing became the only constant in your dynamic. Part of him had hoped Emilia would be enough glue to hold you together, but it was too much to pin on a small child. Just after her third birthday, he watched his world crumble as you tearfully packed up your possessions and took the light from his life with you.

And now. Now it's a regret that haunts him every day. Replaying the mistakes he made over and over, the ones that meant you slipped through his fingers. Too preoccupied with his career frustrations and plagued by chronic lack of sleep to realise the damage before it was irreparable. He knows now, too late, that with a little more effort and compromise, perhaps you would still be together as a family. He certainly never stopped loving and desiring you.

So when the teacher calls out Mrs Bridgerton, his heart almost stops beating and, to his shame, there is a stirring in his jeans. God, he wishes that was still your name, so much so there is a bitter taste in his mouth as he watches you correct the teacher in an endearingly accommodating way. A large part of him wants to leap up and grab you, lift you into his arms, beg that you use the name again. His name. But he doesn't; he just lingers in melancholic reverie, recalling with perfect clarity how it felt to push the white gold band shakily onto your left hand as you recited your vows.

Then with a sharp nearby whistle blow signifying the race start, his focus is pulled back to why he is here. His little wonder, the centre of his universe. Emilia Bridgerton. The most beautiful person on the planet. 

“Go, Emilia!!” he shouts, transfixed as his little girl moves out ahead of the pack, unthinking of anything but supporting his baby girl.

-----

Your head cuts to the side, and you freeze. You would recognise that voice anywhere. And how many Emilia’s can there be in the race?

He's not looking at you; his whole focus is on the field, but you can't seem to look away. Not even to watch your precious daughter. You haven't seen your ex-husband in more than two years. Using his sister as a go-between just seems like the best way to deal with your residual guilt about leaving him. But now? One look and your insides feel like you are falling down a chasm, lungs suddenly too small for the breaths you need to take.

Time seems to slow like molasses as you observe him. He’s wearing a baseball cap, almost akin to a disguise, but you can see underneath it that profile that still makes your heart flutter. Too much, really, considering you are exes. But his beauty was never the problem; it was part of the reason you always stayed. Those soulful eyes would draw you back every time. Those eyes that now haunt you daily, the Bridgerton genes far too strong not to override all of yours. Emilia is the prettiest little female version of your ex-husband you could ever imagine, and it's both your greatest joy and your greatest pain point, living with a growing reminder of the person who still owns your heart regardless of how much you might wish otherwise.

Looking back now, leaving him was an impetuous decision made from a place of utter exhaustion, not able to see a way out of the treadmill your lives had become at that time. But pride stopped you from admitting perhaps you made a mistake, serving divorce papers before you could think too hard about it. He didn't contest and agreed to all of your terms of custody without a fight. You didn't ask for spousal support; you earned more from employment anyway, most of his income coming from his trust. You never loved him for the Bridgerton name or fortune; in fact, sometimes, it felt like you loved him in spite of it. 

And now, one look at him, and you are breathless and in a complete emotional and, yes, physical quagmire. Your body yearning for him, your traitorous brain supplying image after tumbling image of intimacy, the likes of which you have never known before or since—warm bodies wrapped around each other in ecstasy, that velvet voice pleading with you to come with him, for him, always so eager. It makes your chest heave so hard you have to look away to regain composure, doing so just in time for the universe to seemingly return to normal speed, as you watch Emilia cross the line, victorious in her first-ever race. 

You cannot help it; you leap up and cheer too. And she looks over, beaming and jumping up and down. Running towards you and throwing herself into your arms as you kneel with a huge grin.

“Mummy mummy mummy!!” she peals excitedly, her breath gusting hard into your ear. “I did it! I won!”

“I know; well done!” you exclaim, rocking her happily in your arms. “You did wonderfully!!!”

“Did I see Daddy?” she asks, craning over your shoulder. You tense and swivel yourself to follow her eye line, but where he was standing just moments ago, there is now just an empty patch of grass.

“Oh, I don't think so, my love; it was probably someone else’s daddy who looks similar,” you suggest, the lie feeling odd on your tongue, It's obvious he doesn't want to be seen, and a part of you is grateful to avoid an awkward meeting. Emilia is still scanning the crowd, unconvinced by your assertion. “How about an ice cream from the van over there?” you offer cheerily, wanting to distract her from looking too hard for him.

“Okay!” she chimes happily, squirrelling a warm little hand into yours and pulling you towards the pedestrian gate. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spy a navy blue Jaguar pulling out of the other gate and know without a doubt it was him.

-----

He couldn't do it. He thought he could, but he feels the weight of your stare and has to leave. The minute Emilia crosses the line, he gives a little victory punch and takes off. Not able to face you. So much of him wants to, but the gutless part of him apparently resides in his leg muscles. Before he knows it, he is in his car and pulling out onto the West London streets, not daring to look back. It's not his day to pick up Emilia; that's still two days away. He would not want you angry for overstepping the agreement you have in place.

As he pulls up at a traffic light, his phone pings a match on the dating app Anthony bullied him into downloading last week. The temptation to fling his phone right out the window is strong. The idea of being with someone else, especially after the tumult of seeing you today, just feels wrong. 

The only person he has slept with since your divorce was the second biggest mistake of his life. Someone he met at a bar celebrating Colin’s last birthday after too many whiskeys. A close enough facsimile to you that, through the haze of alcohol, he let himself be seduced. The lizard part of his brain somehow convinced it was you, even as she rode him in a way that chafed. Nothing like the way you moved, positively undulated, on his cock. Regret clung to his skin, the fug of hangover already kicking in as he watched her wordlessly re-dress and leave almost immediately, never exchanging numbers. He never saw her again. The fact he called your name as he came was probably the majority of the problem.

The only thing that stops him from flinging the phone is all the history it contains. Pictures of Emilia growing up from a tiny infant to now. But also his text exchanges with you, that increasingly he finds himself scrolling back through on self-indulgent nights, back to when things were good, and you would send each other little notes of love interspersed with sexting that; even now, he can barely read without getting hard. Unable to resist, as he waits for the light to go green, a dozen or more quick thumb flicks upwards on the thread for your previous number, and he finds some of his guilty pleasures.

8 March, 3:25 pm

Y/N: You had better plough me over the kitchen table when you get home xoxox

4 April, 5:02 pm

BB: Tough work day, need you, babe

Y/N: How’s this, daddy? 

Y/N: [photo of your naked glowing, slightly rounded pregnant body]

BB: Fucking helllllll, I am one lucky man

Y/N: Come home, fuck me, daddy

BB: You need to stop calling me that…

Y/N: Why? I am literally pregnant with your child.

BB: Yeah, and that’s why it's so wrong…

Y/N: Just get here, pls. I am so fucking wet….

He is pinch-zooming on the photo, head tilted, his tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth… when a car horn makes him jump, the phone slipping from his grip and falling onto his emergent hard-on. 

The traffic light has turned green. 

With an apologetic nod in the rearview mirror, he drives off, shaking his head, knowing it’s probably very wrong to be looking at pictures of you, his ex-wife, and wanting to fuck you so bad that his foot leans heavily on the accelerator. His blood pumping hard, already knowing he will be taking himself in hand the minute he gets to his place.

-----

Emilia is happily smushing the cone of her 99 ice cream in her little fist as you walk the few streets to your sister's place, where you left your car earlier. She has kindly agreed to let Emilia stay tonight and have a sleepover with her cousins. 

Later, you have your first date since your divorce, and you’ll probably need the rest of the late afternoon to psych yourself up enough to go. You've already cried off so many matchmaking attempts that you had to say yes eventually, just to stop the incessant badgering from all angles. Strangely, this one is Eloise’s doing, and you are still slightly weirded out that your ex-husband’s sister is engineering your first date in more than seven years.

Waving goodbye a few minutes later, you slip into your car and sit for a few deep calming inhales, trying not to think of how much Benedict stole your breath earlier. Some part of you thinks maybe you just imagined him there, a fevered mirage, your subconscious telling you to cancel this stupid date idea and stay home with your two best friends, Ben and Jerry. But then Ameila seemed to think he was there too, and honestly, it feels like you don't know what to do about anything anymore. 

-----

He wastes no time, flinging aside the cap, tossing his car keys onto the hallway table and sprinting upstairs to his bedroom, only pausing to insert his noise-cancelling earbuds and discard his clothing.

He is already leaking a little when he throws himself onto the bed and fists his cock with a groan. His other hand is hovering over the play button on the video he definitely knows he shouldn't be watching, hidden in a nondescript folder.

Your soft giggle tickles his eardrums as the video jolts to life. It's one he shot of you on his phone on your honeymoon—it’s one of his favourites lately.

“Bennnnn,” your voice a teasing murmur as the screen fills with a glimpse of your breasts, his hand trying to take a sweeping shot of your body as you writhe underneath him, both of you buried in a soft glow under a tent of sheets wrapped around your bodies.

His own younger self chuckles loud in his ears, behind the camera as he is, both of your breaths loud as the movement becomes more pronounced.

This is him fucking you and filming it. The camera pans down, and there, almost too tough to see in the grainy low light, is his cock surging into you; the shot is never still enough to see in full detail.

Somehow the lack of clarity makes it more of a turn-on. Benedict whines low as his hand moves in a firm motion, jerking hard, losing himself in reminiscence of what it is like to be buried inside you, your scent, younger you panting hard, pleading quietly for him.

His hand speeds up, and he gasps as the video grows more urgent, the noises so loud right in his ear. He can hear the delicious sound of your wet cunt around his shaft, and it's like a sense memory, that viscous heated cling he can never forget.  

“Ben, oh god Ben, you are so good, fuck me harder,” younger you moans loudly on the video, and both Benedicts, the old and new, couldn't resist that siren call.

“Y/n, oh god, give me your all, y/n,” Benedict growls, screwing his eyes shut, just relying on the auditory experience of the video now. 

But not realising with his slurred speech; it's just given his phone a command…

-----

You are driving towards your place when your hands-free car display lights up with the last name you expect.

Benedict.

Your stomach plunges. Just like earlier when you found yourself staring at him and reimagining so many things you know you shouldn't. You reach over and click the little green button to connect the call, heart in your mouth.

“Ben?” you say his name softly, almost timid. Worried about what it might mean after that strange non-encounter less than an hour ago.

The noise that greets you makes every hair stand on end. It's a throaty groan. He seems to hiss your name, and all you do is frown as your car speakers vibrate with the sound.

“Ben, are you okay?” you check.

“Oh god, I am more than okay, baby,” he growls, and every inch of your body is rioting. “Just please, please don't stop, fuck you feel so good. So tight and hot. I want to live inside you,” the words panted, desperate.

Your foot slips hard on the pedal, and you almost crash into a damn tree. 

-----

Your voice sounds different in his ear, and there is a background hum that wasn't there before, but he is so close to something so intoxicating he doesn't think to open his eyes and check the video.

“Talk to me,” he pleads low, knowing you on the video won't respond but somehow still wanting to talk to you regardless, “tell me how you feel.”

There is silence and then a slight shaky exhale. 

“Ben.”

“Yes, yes, yes, say my name,” he pleads, leaking over his own knuckle as his hand becomes a frenzy on his cock.

-----

You pull over, quaking. There is only one reason he uses that tone. That's his bedroom voice, and fuck if it doesn't make you as weak now as it did back then. You can only assume his phone has accidentally dialled you while he is what? Masturbating? You flush so hotly at the very thought, and yet you can’t school what you say next. Your treacherous libido taking command of your lips.

“Are you touching yourself for me, Ben?” you breathe, and your clothing suddenly feels too tight, too hot.

Your speakers vibrate your seat as he groans loud and lewdly, and it's a beeline straight for your clit, now throbbing insistently against your car seat.

“Yes baby,” he moans and now, in the background, you can hear it, a slight slapping sound, his cock passing through his fist. 

Your pussy clenches instinctually, and you feel a heavy pull, a depth charge of lust. Your lips tingle with the thought of kissing him, running your mouth over his body, wrapping around that cock you remember so well.

“I want you to come for me, Ben,” you plead, a hand straying down between your thighs, scarcely believing what is happening, what you are doing so brazen, parked up on the street mid-afternoon on a Wednesday.

“I will; oh god, I'm going to come so hard,” he snarls. “Do you want it inside you?”

Your fingers glance your clit over your yoga pants, and the heat is overwhelming. “Yes, Ben,” you pant, “inside me, give it to me, give me more of your beautiful babies.”

What you are saying is taboo. And so truthful you don't think to censor it. You would bear as many children as he wants to fuck into you. Still, even now.

“But you are already pregnant with my baby darling,” his voice taking on a softer edge, more wistful, “and you look so, so beautiful.”

You freeze.

“Benedict?” you say quietly.

“Yes, my love,” he purrs.

“Who do you think you are speaking to?” your ask is awkward, screwing your eyes shut, your hand moving away from the apex of your thighs. Suddenly mortified, perhaps it's not you that he thinks he is speaking to after all. Oh shit, did he get someone else pregnant? The panicked bile rises until he sighs the following words.

“Y/n, my wife, my life. God, I miss you so much. I know this must be a fever dream; I know we didn't talk like this in the video, but fuck if it doesn't sound so real,” he ends so wistfully.

“What video?” your question is slow, a weird weight on your chest that is your heart pounding out of control.

“Our honeymoon, darling,” he moans, and you can hear he is still masturbating, although slower-paced now. “When you let me video us fucking. I watch it so much these days that I'm surprised it's not worn out. And yet I can't not; every time I fuck my fist, it's to you.”

“You watch us? Every time you…?” your hand clutching your chest now.

“Yes, my love. I miss you so so much. I should never have let you go. You are my angel, the love of my life, the mother of my child and the only person I ever, ever want to fuck.”

The confession knocks your whole world off its axis. And you crave him. The feeling is so utterly all-consuming you struggle to take your next breath. You have to go to him. You have to see him. It's not even a choice not to. Every fibre of your being needs him.

“Ben,” you murmur, “don't come for me yet; I want to fuck you.”

“You do?” the hope in that gasp makes you lightheaded.

“Yes,” you breathe, “I miss your cock so much.”

You scramble to throw the car into gear and pull out into traffic. You are about a minute's drive away or less if he is home. Something in your movements so very urgent.

“Tell me what you are doing,” you whisper, trying your best to pitch the ask just the right level of seductive as you race down the road, turning into his street.

“I’m fucking my fist,” he moans, “but I wish it were you, my love.”

“I'm almost there,” you pant, pulling into his driveway with almost a squeal of tyres. You grab your phone and jump out of your car, crushing the handset to your ear as you run up to his front door and punch in a code, hoping it's still the one he uses. The crest of victory is palpable as the lock beeps and relents, the door popping open.

“Keep stroking yourself gently,” you order as you close the door and start to disrobe as you bound up the stairs.

“Y/n…” his voice is suddenly tremulant “this…. This isn't a dream, is it?”

“No, Ben, it's not,” you breathe, and you are down to your underwear as you skid into his bedroom, panting.

His eyes are wide with shock as you stride across the room, his cock still in hand and utterly naked; he looks just as delicious as the day you married him.

“Hello, Mr Bridgerton,” you purr.

“Y/n,” he stutters, and it's everything—surprise, desire, hope, relief, yearning and ardent.

“Call me Mrs Bridgerton,” you shoot back, and the responding noise he makes is so utterly feral you almost orgasm without so much as touching him.

-----

Eight months later

“Emilia, not there,” Benedict chuckles good-naturedly.

“Then where daddy?” her pout turns epic as she hands the offending item to him. “You do it!” she huffs.

“Okay, hold still,” he laughs and slides the small tiara into her hair. “See? Just perfect,” he opines, dropping a kiss onto her chestnut tresses.

“I look like a princess!” Emilia exclaims proudly, twisting to look into the mirror.

“Yes, you do,” Benedict concurs. “A pretty princess bridesmaid.”

“The prettiest,” you agree from the doorway, and both heads turn around and greet you with mouths that gape open.

“Oh, Mummy, you look like a real princess!” Emilia gasps, running towards you and giving you a quick hug before skipping out of the room gleefully as her grandmother Violet calls her name from downstairs.

“You look breathtaking,” his tone full of wonderment as he slowly gets to his feet, his eyes never leaving you. “But isn't it bad luck for me to see you like this?” he adds with a flash of concern.

You move towards him, and him towards you, drawn together. “I think we’ve had all the bad luck we are going to have,” you smirk, very much enjoying the sight of him in a sharp, custom-tailored suit. “At least I hope so, seeing as we have this thing to deal with,” you raise an eyebrow, pointing to your five-month bump.

“Thing? Darling, I thought we agreed; his name is Henry,” he sighs in mock indignation, his large hands skating around the swell of your belly, his lips warm on your temple.

“When did I agree to that name?” you frown amiably.

“Last night,” he responds silkily, right into your ear now.

“Oh no, you can’t possibly hold me to that,” you decry. “Anything said when inside me is null and void, Mr Bridgerton; you know I can barely remember my own name at that point.”

His rich chuckle vibrates against your whole body. “Well, let me remind you….”

“I’m listening,” you sigh, eyes closing as you sway into his hot neck kisses.

“It's Mrs Bridgerton,” he rumbles. “Or it will be again in about an hour.”

“I can't wait”, you whisper. “Say it again.”

“Mrs Bridgerton,” A dark, slow tease. 

You are almost late for your own (second) wedding just downstairs.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus

[deesblanketfort]

Sick and regressed ☆´ˎ˗ ︶︶︶ 

Well, while I'm writting this I'm bedridden (likely with covid), and for some reason I really want to spend my sick days regressed and take something good out of it at least.

Getting comfy!

🧦: Pajamas time! Is there anything more regressor-coded than cozy printed pajamas, an animal kigurumi or onesie? I'd say no. And since I'm staying on bed, I'm surely wearing those all day long.

🛏️: Bed setup! When you're bedridden, a bed table ends up being really useful in case you want to do stuff that requires a flat surface. If you have one of those, lucky you! I, however had to improvise with a smooth wooden board standing on my lap, therefore any kind of long, resilient and flat surface can do the job just fine.

🧦: Blanket fort! Alternatively, if you're able to roam around your house or have someone to help, you can build a blanket fort over your bed or a comfy surface to stay in!

🛏️: Sick gear! Runny nose? Bring tissues. Got a fever? Make a cold damp towel for your forehead. Tummy aches or localized pain? Make a hot water compress. And make sure to keep track of the meds you're taking, of course.

🧦: Get your plushies! Since what I got is very contagious close contact with anyone is out of the table, but my stuffies are completely immune to sickness and ready to cuddle! (I'll have to wash them afterwards to disinfect them though)

Games and activities!

🎮: Viddy games! Either on computer, phone or a console (handheld preferred), videogames are perfectly stationary and don't require much movement from your part.

🖍️: Table games! Table games are also stationary and can be played right from your bed if you have a bed table, although most games need other people to play with you, your plushies can serve this purpose.

🎮: Play pretend! Playing pretend can be limited when you're bedridden, but there are some scenarios you're perfectly able to do! Such as pretending you're a shop owner and your stuffies are the clients, pretending your stuffies are your doctors/nurses taking care of you, or vice versa. Things like tea parties and pretend schools are still on the table!

🖍️: Arts and crafts! Being sick won't stop me from wanting to draw and color, since I can do it from my bed anyways! Aside from drawing and coloring, I might as well do some collage and paper craft, just might need help to clean up afterwards.

🎮: Cartoon time! No better opportunity to (re)watch your favorite cartoons than when you're sick, bedridden and bored, right? And since this brings me comfort, here are some cartoon episodes that center on being sick: Bumpy and the Wise Old Wolfhound (Bluey), Steve Gets The Sniffles (Blues Clues), Bear Flu (We Bare Bears), Doctor Daisy M.D (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse), Arthur's Chicken Pox (Arthur)

Snack time!

🍼: Hot drinks! Specially if you're with a cold or a sore throat in general, hot drinks such as hot cocoa and tea are perfect for warming up an icky throat.

🧁: Spices for a sore throat! Like mint, honey, ginger and lemon. I'm sure there's plentiful of drinks you can make using these!

🍼: Give preference to healthy snacks and meals! Like fruits and veggies, yogurt, noodles, soup or sandwiches. Bonus points if they're arranged in a fun shape (animal, plant, star, etc)!

🧁: Keep your appetite in check! It's pretty common to lose your appetite when sick, therefore I'd say it's ideal to keep your meals smaller (and sometimes eat more often) than usual.

Taking care of yourself!

🧸: Stay hydrated! Water is always good, and if you're sick you likely need it more than usual, drinking from sippy cups, baby bottles, straw cups or any kind of fun themed cup is usually more fun and encouraging than boring adult cups.

🧶: Keep your temperature in check as well! Besides from checking if you have a fever ever so often, it's also good to keep yourself warm with blankets and heating if your body feels cold, or alternatively, turning on fans and using lighter sheets instead of blankets if you're too hot.

🧸: Beware the germs! If you got a contagious disease (like me), make sure to properly wash and disinfect anything you bring to your mouth such as pacis, teethers, bottles and cutlery before and after using them. Plus, it's important to wear a mask or ask others to wear a mask when near you as well.

🧶: Resting is key! Some of these days I'm too tired to do anything above, and I'd rather just nap the whole day, and that's okay! Sometimes being sick means not being able to do anything at all and it's important to have your extended napping time to get better.