#also for the course name in this fic i definitely looked at my college's course offerings

[kmgkmg]

EVERYTHING - LEE HEESEUNG

word count: 2.8k…

pairing: heeseung x gn!reader

synopsis: you are a freshly moved in tenant to a cheaply priced apartment, but is it too good to be true?

genre/s: fluff, non-idol!au, strangers-to-lovers, enemies-to-lovers more of a miscommunication trope, college student!reader, neighbor!heeseung

warnings: none!

rating: pg

a/n: for @dearhee!! hi, i was matched with you for the @kflixnet's exchange event! i'm a bit shy so i didn't message you, but i've enjoyed seeing your posts on my dash ^^ i hope you enjoy this short oneshot piece! the title is based off of everything by kehlani. i had a hard time choosing between her song and butterfly dream by khalil fong, also i did kinda get carried away and made you a fic playlist! and an older outdated playlist i made for heeseung a while back if you'd like to listen to it! sorry this author's note is so long omg.

Brown moving boxes cluttered your new living room. Sure, it looked a bit barren and depressing from the boxes and bubble-wrapped items lying around, but those would be dealt with right after you finished your coursework. Sitting down at the kitchen table you and Jungwon assembled just hours ago, your mouse hovered over the pause button of your laptop.  

You were attempting to finish the recorded lecture your professor posted yesterday. Latin American Politics seemed like a fascinating topics course to take, and to top it off, the professor had stellar reviews from classmates. Who would’ve known that you were getting yourself into the most intensive courses you’ve taken to date? The readings were interesting and you never had a problem completing them, but what drove you insane was the exams. Your professor would always include questions that would leave a lot up for interpretation, yet he would grade it seemingly randomly based on his mood.  The other half of the questions would require you to know a decent amount of outside information since he would ask questions that were never discussed in class or case studies, but would be relating to relevant precedents.

Something that was quickly driving you insane was your next door neighbor. You hadn’t had the chance to introduce yourself yet, but for almost the entire time you tried to watch the lecture, music could be heard through your shared wall. You thought the noise would subside if you waited long enough, but your patience finally met its limit when they turned up their music enough for you to feel the bass. 

This isn't how you imagined introducing yourself to your neighbors. You weren’t hoping to be best friends with them or anything, but you definitely didn’t think you’d be storming over to their doorstep at 11pm to complain. Still, it’s a weekday. How could they not have the common sense to be courteous of those who needed to wake up early in the morning?

Opening your door, you walked over and knocked three times on the door. A man with grayish blonde hair opened the door with a quizzical smile flashed towards you.

And maybe, no, definitely, his looks would’ve been more noticed by you on any other day. But you had an oral exam to finish polishing to present in front of your professor and classmates. 

“Can you lower your music please? I’m trying to study and it’s distracting,” You request, without paying much attention to your neighbor’s confusion gradually showing on his face. 

“I wasn’t playing any music though?” He innocently replies.

“For the past forty minutes I’ve listened to music from your side of the wall, don’t act innocent,” You groan. 

He smirked at you, “Sure, I can ‘turn it down’,” emphasizing the last part by using air quotes with his hands. 

“What do you mean with the air quotations?” You frown, imitating the air quotes he made moments ago. 

“Don’t you think you owe me a favor for turning down my music? I mean it is my apartment, I should be able to act how I want. Not my fault that the building’s walls are thin,” He shrugs. 

Of course, your neighbor is entitled. Just great. 

“You won’t turn it down? Okay, there’s an easy solution. What was the landlord’s number again? I think filing a noise complaint would make my problem solved real quick,” You answered, unlocking your phone screen and showing the dial pad screen to him.

His smirk fades, “Alright, alright, I’ll stop playing my music and singing,” taking your phone and typing a number onto it, “here’s my number.” He extended his hand to you with your phone placed on his palm. 

You snatched your phone back, narrowing your eyes at him. “Why give me your number? So you can bother me through texts and phone calls instead?” You scoff, already heading back to your apartment next door. 

“You can message me instead of our landlord when I make noise again,” He waves, before slamming his door behind you. 

Asshole.

One thing you absolutely hated was hot weather. Without the A/C on in the middle of today, a day that was record-breakingly hot, you felt certain you would melt any minute now. Your landlord sent out an email to all of the tenants in the morning explaining that the A/C broke and would probably be repaired by tonight. You didn’t need her email to wake you up though. You were already awake, sweating profusely. The comforter had long been thrown to the floor. You stumbled sleepily to your thermostat which read as 100°F/38°C. Outside it was a bit cooler, but being outside only exposed you to the blazing sun. It was truly choosing the lesser of two evils. 

What made the day even worse is that you ran into your annoying neighbor, whose name you learned is Heeseung, as you went outside to make a quick run to buy some cold snacks. It did make it slightly better when he was covered in as much, if not more sweat than you. You couldn’t revel in his misfortune for too long though. He miraculously managed to trip over his doormat, falling onto you. Both of you scowled at each other while childishly wiping each other’s germs off yourselves. 

He hadn’t played his music anymore since the day you confronted him, but he did sing nearly everyday. If you weren’t studying, you couldn’t help admiring how talented he was. His vocals sounded like they came straight from a CD. But your appreciation for his talent never lasted long, since he always had an intuitive sense to bother you. 

Y/N, I sound good, don’t I?

How would you feel if I serenaded you sometime?

Don’t you think a guy who can sing is sooooooo hot?

Have any song requests Y/N?

His texts immediately removed any hint of charisma his music might’ve given him. Heeseung knew that his texts drove you insane, and if you were just an ounce less nice than you were, he would’ve been blocked a long time ago. Still, he had texted you about a week ago informing you he’d be redoing the foam sound panels he installed a couple years back in order to hopefully be more soundproof for your sake. While you felt relieved that you would finally have some peace and quiet after weeks of living with his incessant noise, it was bittersweet. You had grown used to his singing, occasionally singing along to the songs you knew. Although, it didn’t change the fact that he was still arrogant as ever whenever he interacted with you. 

Snapping out of your thoughts about Heeseung, the elevator doors opened on your floor. You looked down into the plastic bag of goods you got from the convenience store and sighed disappointedly at the distorted shape of the ice cream you bought. 

“Sorry if the phone was cut out, I was in the elevator. But Jake, I’m going to die in this heat!” You whined through the phone, searching your pockets with your free hand for your keys. 

“Why don’t you just come over to my place then?” He offers generously.

“That would give me the perfect excuse to see Layla…” You trail off, tempted by your friend’s invitation. 

“See, Y/N just come over and we can eat some ice cream to cool down,” Jake persuades you further. 

“You know, I actually got ice cream and other stuff and I’m pretty sure it melted on impact the moment I stepped into this damn complex,” You reveal, lightening up at the sound of Jake’s laughter. 

You finally found your keys and unlocked your door, noticing the fan by your door. There was a Post-It note attached to it: You seemed to need it more than me - Seung. He was definitely sweating more than you earlier, so why would he give his fan to you?

“Jake, my annoying neighbor just left me a really nice fan to use?” You tell him, still glancing over the note. All of a sudden? For no reason? Your suspicions grew as they usually did, sure that he must have an ulterior motive. Nevertheless, you carried the fan and your melted snacks into your apartment. 

“You mean the neighbor with the angelic singing voice?” Jake asks to confirm he was thinking about the same neighbor. 

You open your fridge, placing each item in their designated spot, “You heard him one time, Jake.”

“One time was enough, Y/N. Dude’s got the voice of an angel for real,” Jake stands his ground. 

Rolling your eyes, you take out the semi-frozen pineapple juice you put in the freezer hours ago. The original plan was to drink it for yourself, but it couldn’t stop bothering you that Heeseung had seemingly been nice for no reason. The fan he gave you blew cold air and if you wanted it to be even colder you could add cold water or ice to a compartment. It was expensive, you could tell from the look of it alone. Also, you did happen to browse for fans while you were waiting in line at the convenience store. Was the fan in front of you the one you considered buying? That’s not important right now…

“Y/N?” Jake’s voice snaps you away from your thoughts. 

“Sorry, give me a sec,” You grabbed the plastic bag on the counter and added the frozen pineapple juice and gummies to it. It’s not equivalent to his fan, but at least it’s something. 

You reopened your door, preparing to hang the bag on his door handle and go back to your conversation. What you didn’t expect was Heeseung to be walking in the hallway, humming a song while twirling his keys with one hand and carrying takeout in the other. He caught you in the middle of what was supposed to be a discrete delivery, raising his eyebrow in amusement. 

“And what do I owe the pleasure, Y/N L/N?” He moseyed over to you, flashing one of his infamous smiles at you. 

“I just left some things in the bag since you gave me that fan. I appreciate it, but um, if you don’t want the snacks since you just got food, I can grab it later,” You mumbled, trying to scurry back into your apartment since Jake was definitely going to tease you about any interaction you had with Heeseung. 

“Wait, is that the angelic neighbor, Y/N?” Jake’s voice practically booms from your phone. You must’ve accidentally pressed the speaker button. Heeseung’s smile only grows wider as he looks at your phone, with you being completely mortified and hanging up on your best friend. 

“Angelic neighbor, huh?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head, Heeseung. That’s just my friend’s nickname for you,” You attempt to crush anything he was imagining, matching his cheeky energy. 

“Aw, so you talk about me that much? I’m flattered, really,” He places a hand on his heart, closing his eyes in a feigned earnest expression. 

“He heard you singing one time, Heeseung. Then, I mean I might’ve told him you were always singing with that flawless voice of yours, but that was it really,” You rambled, not thinking much about the words that were coming out of your mouth. 

“Flawless voice…” He repeats, turning shy at the surprise compliment you gave. 

You were completely unaware of what you said, still trying to make your way back to your apartment. 

“Anyways, if you don’t have anything else to say I’m going to head back into my place…” You point with your thumb to your door, confused as to why he suddenly turned so quiet. 

“Thank you.” 

Now it was your turn to be surprised, “For what?”

“I’ve been going to all these auditions but keep getting rejected. Each place I go nitpicks my technique, but you called my voice flawless. I guess I really needed to hear that right now,” Heeseung explains, now fidgeting with his keys. 

The puzzle pieces started falling into place, “So that’s why you’re always singing?”

He nodded in response, “The first day you came over to my door, I was practicing for a callback the following morning. I knew that we were expecting a new tenant and sure, I heard you moving things in, but moving in took me like three days. The last time someone new moved in was me, which was two years ago. So, I just assumed that you would still be moving in. It didn’t occur to me that you could’ve moved all your stuff in one day. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I was making that much noise that night, I didn’t know you were all moved in yet.”

His sincere apology surprised you for the second time, “I’m sorry, too. I’m a law school student and I was prepping for an exam that determined a huge part of my grade. I can get a bit sensitive to sounds when I’m studying for exams,” You apologized back. 

Heeseung’s fingers stopped fidgeting with his keys as his expression softened, “Thank you for the snacks, I’ll enjoy them, Y/N.”

The warmth in his voice as he said your name made you flustered, used to him only saying your name in a teasing tone, “Y-Yeah, no problem. Thanks for the fan, I’ll use it well.”

“Oh, before I forget, I was going to drop off one of these sandwiches by the fan if you weren’t home yet,” He reaches into his takeout bag and hands you a sandwich. 

Today must be the day he decided to endlessly surprise you since he handed you your regular order from the local deli, “How’d you know my order…?”

“About a week ago, you made an UberEats and the delivery person knocked on my door first,” He nonchalantly explained. 

“Ah, I see. But why are you being so nice to me? I mean it’s a complete 180 from this morning,” You question him, still suspicious of his kindness. 

“I just woke up when I tripped into you earlier. Also, I absolutely hate hot weather so I would’ve made that face if I bumped into anyone,” Heeseung answers, “I hope that we can get along from now on.”

You nod in agreement and thank him for the fan and sandwich once again before parting. 

Finally back in your apartment, you FaceTimed Jake only to be met with the faces of both him and Jungwon. 

“Tell us everything!” 

Months had passed since Heeseung and you finally cleared up your misunderstandings. Your once sour relationship with him had turned into a strong friendship, spending most of each other’s free time with each other. 

His love as a friend was anything but conventional. He knew all of your details, from the first time you officially hung out and watched the newest John Wick movie to the time when you went to a dog cafe together, he was always attentive to you and your interests. You were equally attentive to him, recommending songs that would suit his voice, or sending videos about fishing since it was his hobby. Jake had grown closer to Heeseung as well, reporting back to Jungwon each time you and Heeseung would gush about each other. 

It was obvious to everyone that you loved each other. Well, obvious to everyone but the two of you. That was, until one fateful summer night spent on the apartment’s rooftop with each other. You were watching a fireworks show in the distance, enamored with the various colors filling the dark night sky. 

“Isn’t it stunning, Seung?” You exclaimed happily, not breaking your attention from the fireworks in front of you. 

He wasn’t looking at the fireworks though. His eyes were fixed on you beside him, taking in everything you are, “Yeah, absolutely stunning.”

You turned towards him, only to be met with his unwavering gaze, “Heeseung?”

He softly led you to the table and chairs on the rooftop, hinting that he wanted to sit down next to you. You followed him, picking up when he wanted to say something.

After a deep breath in Heeseung began, “Y/N, I love the way you teach me about things I never would have thought to learn about. I love the way you listen to my concerns and nonsensical excited rants about my favorite shows or album releases. I love your extrovertedness and willingness to help those around you. I love your laugh. I love you.”

“Heeseung, I love you too,” You reply, unable to properly formulate all the reasons why you loved him. If you started listing the reasons why you loved him, you feared you would never stop. 

But your confession back was enough for him to shine brighter than any of the fireworks you watched before, “Really?”

You smile at him, causing him to envelop you in a hug. 

Who would’ve thought that your noisy neighbor all those months ago would end up being the person you loved?

[kookslastbutton]

what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[quin-ns]

Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means

Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia

A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)

TLOU masterlist + main masterlist

The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.

You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”

As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go. 

You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.

“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth. 

“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.

“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath. 

The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck. 

Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.

You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.

“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.

“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.

Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”

“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.

“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”

“Who?”

“The dilf.”

“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?” 

“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.”  If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.

You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets. 

You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party. 

It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.

“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”

“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours. 

“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.

You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment). 

“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well. 

She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.

“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”

“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.” 

You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”

“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”

“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.

“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.” 

You hummed. “You’re not wrong.” 

The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.

“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene. 

“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.

“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.

You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.

You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.

“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.

You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.

Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.

You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.

You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.

“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.

How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.

“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.

When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head. 

“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.

That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”

You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.

Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”

“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”

Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”

“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.

“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.

“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you. 

“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”

“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least. 

“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”

“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion. 

“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.

“Sure, yeah.”

“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”

You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.

“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”

“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea. 

You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”

“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?” 

Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you. 

“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.

“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.

“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.

Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”

Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.

Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it. 

“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”

“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.

Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.

“Do you think I’m one?”

You nearly choked on your water. “What?”

“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”

Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”

“Yes.”

Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!” 

“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away. 

You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.

Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly. 

The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.

“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟐: 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤/𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 - 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢 ♡

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Your two professors were more than happy to show you some tips and tricks to help you study.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 1.36k

-> ��ᴇɴʀᴇ: Colleg Au. Suggestive. 

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Professor!Yungi x Student!Reader 

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Swearing. Pet names. Hints of sex. Teasing. Dirty talk. Some man handling. Mingi and Yunho are HUGE.

Thank you, @mixling-blog, @yugy-oh, and @senpai-of-doom, for requesting Mingi and Yunho for this day. ♡♡♡

Note: I actually forgot to finish this day, and I'm so sorry. So I'll be making a part 2 once kinktober is done cause I had this whole idea but i just lost track of all the fics and this one got put on the bottom of my list by accident ahhhh.

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

There was a secret code in college, an unspoken rule if you will. Never, ever, by any means, fall in love, or sleep with your professors. And yes, they might be handsome, and they might be only seven or so in age difference. But never, EVER, be romantically or sexually involved.  And this rule stuck by most students and more professors. There were young girls who always fawned over the brooding, tall, and mysterious drinks of water known as their music or mathematics teachers. And boys that would whisper among themselves who was the hottest, Ms. Kim, the science teacher, or Mrs. Park, the criminology professor.

But you? You swore the minute you only got barely accepted to the college―since you were late for the cut―that you would not look at your teachers in such an inappropriate and unprofessional way. Besides, you were one day going to be joining them as a professor once you pass your training exam. You always wanted to teach visual arts and Theater and this college has allowed you not only to study such majors and degrees but also train so that one day you’ll be able to teach them yourself to others.

You worked hard, studied instead of sleeping. Sleeping instead of hanging out with friends. Your life revolved around your work, and yet when you met the stand-in, since your normal teacher was away for a couple of weeks. It was like your brain no longer understood how to function. And the worst part…

Theres two of them.

Both are strong, tall, and deviously handsome. One had a voice so deep you could feel the vibrations of his vocals every time he spoke, and the other had eyes as piercing as the sun and a smile that could kill. To say they were your ideal type would be an understatement. And what was the icing on the cake? They are huge. Beefy broad shoulders, thick biceps and thighs, heavy chests. They were like super soldiers, and oh, how that made you swoon. Wanting nothing more than for them to pick you up and throw you around as if you weighed nothing. If you were to stand in between them, you surely would be caged in the best way possible.

You met them during the first term, six months ago. And every day since was a little unspoken game of cat and mouse. You didn’t flirt at first, still wanting to be professional but as your late hours at the library grew or the time spent sitting in an empty classroom for some quiet as your dorm was too loud to considerate became more common. Mr Park and Mr Jung came to your aid to help you with your studies, of course. First, they would sit at the front of the classroom while you were at a row of desks. They would explain about being a teacher, cheat sheets of sorts, and tips for when to do your first training shift. Helping you understand the ins and outs of navigating college students. And then it slowly moved to one of them sitting next to you, Mr Song, you could smell his cologne, the musk of his natural scent. His arm would brush yours, occasionally making you see how his large biceps were. And they were definitely the same if not larger than your thighs. Your body felt so small next to him.

And then Mr Jung sat on the other side of you. The feeling of being caged was coming to reality, and it was burning a fire inside of you. You tried to brush away these feelings. They are your professors, after all and one day, co-workers, not some school crush to dot over. But they were so smooth-talking, charming, with flirtatious smiles, and your mind couldn’t help but wonder since they are so naturally big, were they big else where…

“You get all that peach?” Mr Jung’s voice snapped you out of your lewd thoughts, redness suddenly pooling on your cheeks. You see that’s why Mr Jung had given you such a nickname, Peach, was because of the shade of pink your cheeks would be whenever he made eye contact with you. Deep down you knew your professor shouldn’t be nicknaming his student but then again you didn’t take the classes they taught, and the longer you thought about it, the more okay it was to flirt back. After all, you were all adults.

“You seem a bit distracted today?” Mr Song grumbled behind you, making a shiver dance down your back. My god, if that man sounded like that on a regular, you wondered what his bedroom voice sounded like, or even better, his morning voice. “Is something bothering you?” he asked, placing his large hand on your shoulder, stopping you from turning to the side to see him. No, instead, he slowly rubbed his fingers deep into your tense muscle, making you feel relief surge through you. You almost forgot to answer the question, too focused on the older man's hands doing wonders on your shoulders.

“I-I uhmm…” You were lost, suddenly feeling Mr Jung’s hand grip the top part of your thigh, rubbing circles on your exposed flesh where the hem of your shorts are. “It’s just. M-mr Jung…”

“Don’t worry, Peach, and I said already. Call me Yunho. We are going to be co-workers soon. You should address me and Mingi as such.” He included his friend and co-worker at the end, letting you know what you’ve been told for the thousandth time, call them by their first names. “You seem tense, darling. What could ever be the cause of so much tension in this pretty body of yours.”

Your eyes snapped open now, looking at Mr Jung―uh you mean Yunho―in his intense stare. Did he just call you darling? Now, your face was definitely redder than a tomato at this point. “Y-Yunho…”

Yunho groaned, biting his lip while rolling his eyes slightly. he had to pull back for a second before returning his hand to your thigh. “God, my name sounds so good when you say it.”

You looked away for a moment, feeling your heart was going to beat right out of your chest. The next thing you knew, a pair of large beefy arms pulled you by your waist until your ass was placed onto a board, hard, lap. “Say my name Doll Face. I wanna hear what my name sounds like coming off your pretty lips.” All barriers were gone and lines were being crossed. But none of you cared anyone. The flirtation became too much, more so for the men it seems and with Mingi’s lips finding the sweet spot behind your ear you couldn’t help but moan;

“Mingi…”

“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.” The hold Min had on you got tighter, and his huge biceps caged your back against his heavy chest. Your mind was spinning at the sheer thought that all Mingi and Yunho had to do was squeeze you tight enough that you’d break. They are so much bigger than you, stronger than you. They could throw you around and do as they pleased to you and all you could―would―do is lay back and take it.

“We knew you’d be such a good girl for us peach. Just look at you, head empty already when we have barely touched you.” Yunho chuckled, squeezing your thigh, letting his long fingers slip towards where you needed them most. “you want us to touch you, darling? Teach you some real lessons?” He emphasized the word ‘real’, all knowing that He and Mingi were going to teach you anything but a real lesson in this moment.

“Please…” you retched out for Yunho, gripping his perfectly iron button-up, pulling him towards you. “Please show me…” He drew his lips to yours quickly as Mingi’s bit down onto your shoulder while his hands loosely move to open your legs, letting Yunho cup your entire wet cunt with his huge hand. You were most definitely in for a night of your life.

-♥︎

[heartsaturn]

“i’m wearing tennessee orange for him” - lh43

luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which, blood doesn’t run thicker than water

warnings: nothing (??), intended lowercase, set in luke’s last season at umich, awkward!luke and a bit of shy!luke, ends in a bit of a cliffhanger so i’m open for part two requests if anyone wants it

a/n: woah !!! sara actually write a fic ?!? ik ik it’s crazy. this was requested by my one and only @daniiiboo, i deeply apologize for taking five years (a few MONTHS 😓) for this to come out. i still don’t really like this fic but i like it enough to post it.

———————————————————————-

if one thing is true, it is that ohio state hates university of michigan. the feeling is definitely mutual. the two schools have been rivals since before you can remember. all you know is that you cannot associate with someone from michigan. you were raised a buckeye, and you will stay a loyal buckeye, right?

well, being a loyal buckeye is really damn hard right now.

it is not an abnormal thing for you and your friends to go and support the sports teams at your school. most of the time, it was football games. sometimes, it was hockey games. and now hockey season is starting. the stadium buzzes with energy at the first rival game of the season. it’s the beginning of october and the beginning of fall, which you believe is one of the best times of the year. the air finally starts to become crisp after a blazing summer. it couldn’t be a better time for a hockey game. so, you and your friend decide to go to the game for the atmosphere.

just here for the atmosphere, you try to remind yourself now. you also happen to be questioning in your mind why a hockey player just tossed you a puck. a michigan hockey player. there is no way that he thought you were a michigan fan because, first of all, there is a very minimal amount of michigan fans. you’re literally at your home arena. second of all, you and all of your friends are wearing ohio state gear. who does this stupidly gorgeous wolverine think he is?

while all of your friends start squealing because of this boy’s gesture, you sit there in shock. you look at the puck that rests in your hands. you don’t snap out of your confused daze until one of your friends nudges you.

“you think he’s cute?” she asks with a small smile on her face. her words are teasing and her smile is smug.

of course, you think he’s cute. how could you not? he is tall, has curly hair that you can see peaking through his helmet, and you note the little smirk that he had on his face as he skated away from you.

“he’s not bad-looking,” you answer. you can’t stop a small smile that grows on your face as you look down at the little gift.

during the game, you and your friends find out that this boy’s number is 43 and his last name is hughes. you can’t deny that your eyes follow him almost the whole game. you try not to let them wander, you really do. upon finding out his last name and jersey number, your friends are able to find his instagram account.

“you guys are actually insane,” you say with a snicker.

“we just found your future boyfriend on instagram, so you're welcome,” one of your friends teases sassily.

the game goes on and the whole arena is filled with chants and overwhelming school spirit as ohio state finishes off the game, winning 4-3 in overtime.

this is not good for luke. his mind has gone into a spiral of what went wrong and what the team could have done better when he remembers his bold actions during warmups. the truth is, luke isn’t some cocky hotshot hockey player. he is just an awkward college student who happens to be pretty darn good at the sport he plays. luke is charming and charismatic. he knows this, mainly because he has been told by other people. he just isn’t all that confident in using these abilities quite yet.

luke can already feel the regret bubbling inside of him because of his previous actions, certain that he has zero shot with this girl. what are the chances of him even seeing her anyway? well, apparently very high because he does see her again.

you had let your friends encourage you to wait outside the locker rooms to see if you could find the boy that they so desperately want you to meet. and then they left you. they left you wandering outside the locker rooms anxiously by yourself. in their minds, it was a way to get you alone with luke. in your mind, it was downright mean. the only people who really stand outside the locker rooms are family members and girlfriends, which you are neither of. you feel out of place and you honestly hope that luke comes out of the locker room just so that you don’t have to hover awkwardly for much longer.

then, your prayers are answered because out walks the same hockey player that had so shamelessly thrown a girl on the opposing school’s team a puck earlier. only this time, the boy looks much less intimidating. he actually looks quite friendly. when he walks out of the locker room, he is talking with one of his teammates. he looks exhausted and a bit beaten up from the loss that his team just faced, but that doesn’t make him any less attractive in your eyes.

luke sees you and immediately recognizes you. he couldn’t forget such a pretty face. honestly, that is probably the only reason that he gained the confidence to toss you a puck in the first place. seeing you smiling with your friends and looking so gorgeous while doing it made luke so desperate to try and flirt with you.

now, luke is a tad stunned. he sees you and just freezes for a moment. he decides to approach you after a few seconds of you not noticing him.

“hello,” you hear a male voice say after clearing his throat. you spin around to see the captivating wolverine from earlier.

“oh, hi..” you reply softly. both of you seem too shy to speak to the other properly.

“thanks for the puck,” you speak up, now looking up at his taller frame.

“oh yeah, no problem. i’m sure you get that all the time being as stunning as you are…” luke says back. his demeanor is still very bashful. although, he can feel his confidence swell as the conversation flows on because there is no way that he is losing his chance with you.

you find his attempt at flirting a bit amusing but still sweet. his continuous attempts to impress you and try to hold the discussion with you are honestly adorable.

“not usually, and not by anyone i would want to get to know anyway. i could make an exception for you though,” you respond, a pleased smile finding its way to your features.

“do you want to get to know me while we get lunch then?” luke asks. very smooth transition, luke. very smooth indeed.

“our schools are three hours away from each other you know…” you say. your words are meant to be taken almost as a warning. not just a warning to luke but to yourself as well.

“i have a feeling i’ll be in it for the long game,” the boy simply replies with a little grin and slight shrug. his casual answer eased you a bit and let you know that he wants to make it work out if you also want to.

you have literally known this boy for a whole two minutes of your life and you are already thinking about if you could go long distance with him. i guess he really did catch your attention on the ice.

“i’m luke by the way,” he says.

“y/n,” you reply.

you don’t dare to tell your family what school luke goes to if you guys do end up making it work.

———————————————————————-

word count: 1269

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Froyo

Synopsis: During a premiere red carpet with Drew, an interviewer’s question accidentally reveals that a seemingly ordinary dinner was actually Drew’s attempt at a first date covered by two random tiktoks. Pairing: Drew Starkey x Actress!Reader Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count A/N: I know I still owe you guys a Gwayne Hightower fanfic, but the chokehold Drew fucking Starkey has on me is insane. btw, I realized this is the second time I've created a fic based on real people vs the normal Marvel character thingy I do. And to be honest, there's gonna be a lot more... so maybe I should make this a series considering they're all triggered by an interview and Y/N's always an actress lol. ALSO at the end, there's a poll on what you think should happen next, and best believe I'll do my best to write that.

There’s an edit circulating on TikTok of you and your co-star Drew Starkey from your red carpet interview together. You’re both starring in an Amazon limited series about college classmates who become close after witnessing your professor’s murder and are now on a shared mission to solve the crime. You’ve known him closely for a year now, but have been following his career even before that. I mean, who wouldn’t? The man is gorgeous. But of course, you couldn’t let him know that.

As shooting began, the two of you grew closer, and you decided to be professional and put that whole fascination aside. You’ve both even dated other actors and celebrities, which have also been topics for gossip channels and paparazzi photos. Despite all that, you’ve hung out plenty, mostly in groups but also during breaks in filming—often grabbing lunch and coffee together.

Today, you and Drew are laughing as you finally see the edit that’s been at the top of both your PR’s nightmare list.

You’re dressed in an elegant beige gown, skin-tight and slightly sheer, which Carrie Bradshaw would definitely call the naked dress. Your hair is pulled back in a low bun, bangs effortlessly framing your face. You’ve just arrived at the red carpet, taking your time to chat with interviewers. The first few questions are light, mostly about how fun it was working on set and, of course, what you're wearing.

After a few minutes, Drew catches up to you. He’s in a baby blue suit, sepia shades covering his eyes, smelling incredible. His presence is like a tight, warm hug—well, a little tighter on your chest. His voice sends tingles down your spine as he whispers, one hand casually placed on the small of your back.

“What did I miss?” He smiles at you and the interviewer.

“Oh, nothing much, I was just telling Amelia how you’re always late to everything.” You smirk, shooting a playful look at the camera. Amelia, your interviewer, raises her eyebrows dramatically, playing along. Both of you laugh as Drew backs away, feigning offense.

“I’ve been here since like—” He starts to defend himself.

“Like five minutes ago,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Valid,” he agrees with a shrug, laughing.

Amelia continues her interview, moving on to ask about the possibility of a second season.

“I mean, yeah, I’d love to do a second season, for sure,” you nod, glancing at Drew, who’s nodding along, letting you take the lead. “But I’m not sure if it makes sense, since it was originally written as a one-season story. For that to happen, someone might have to die again so Kelsea and James can investigate something new.”

Kelsea and James are the names of the characters you play—who, of course, end up dating on the show.

“So you’re saying someone has to die for the two of you to get back together on set?” Amelia jokes, her deadpan delivery only making it funnier.

“I mean, I don’t know!” You laugh. “You’re twisting my words, Amelia!”

“I honestly think you just don’t want to hang out with me anymore, Y/N,” Drew chimes in, a playful pout on his face. “I’m hurt.”

“Is that why there wasn’t a second date?” Amelia asks, teasingly. Her tone is light, but the question lands hard. Drew’s eyes widen in surprise, his smile freezing as if even he didn’t see that one coming. He covers his mouth, trying not to laugh while you stand there, looking utterly confused.

“Second date? What?” You laugh, trying to figure out if this is some sort of red carpet joke you weren’t briefed on. You glance at Drew, who’s just shaking his head, still grinning but not offering any explanations.

You lower your voice, leaning towards him, “What is she—what date?” You chuckle awkwardly, trying to maintain your cool, though the confusion is clearly written all over your face. Drew glances at Amelia, then back at you, and you can tell he feels a little bad now.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of awkward silence, Drew admits, “When we got dinner and froyo.” He says it so nonchalantly that it takes you a second to process.

“That was a date?!” you whisper-yell, smacking his arm, your jaw practically hitting the floor. “You said it was just dinner!”

“I know!” Drew laughs, his cheeks turning a little pink. “I said that because I thought you didn’t like me back! I was sending out signals!”

“What signals?” you ask, still reeling from the shock. “That’s unfair, you said it was just dinner! I feel so bad—I didn’t know!” You place your hand on his arm, squeezing it apologetically. You’re both laughing now, but you’re also genuinely flustered.

“I did tell you!” Drew protests. “I said, ‘Do you want to have dinner with me?’ And you were like, ‘Are we bringing Madz along?’ And when I said no, you were like, ‘Why?’”

“That is not enough, Drew!” You laugh, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Your PR team is probably dying, but at least this little moment might boost some publicity for the show. You actually remember the video Amelia might be referring to; your assistant had sent it to you a few months back. You found it interesting and even funny because you honestly thought it was just a fan shipping the two of you together—cutting together videos and photos of you and Drew when you were out to eat. You try to recall what that day was like and pick apart whatever signals Drew was referring to, but you really can’t remember anything different from the way he’s interacted with you since you two first met.

You realize the gag has gone on long enough and decide to wrap it up before the awkwardness can escalate further.

“Amelia, I’m so sorry about this,” you say with a dramatic sigh, trying to regain your composure. “Even while confessing his undying love for me, he’s still late. Men, what can you do?”

Drew, still chuckling, wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his way of apologizing. You feel a warmth settle over you, even as your mind is still catching up to everything.

The camera flashes pop around you, and suddenly, those TikTok edits of you looking perpetually confused start to make a little more sense.

When the premiere starts, halfway through the screening, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You check your makeup, but instead of heading straight back to the theater, you decide to take a moment. The whole "date reveal" situation has thrown you off more than you realized, and you need a second to process it. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, replaying the interview in your head. You haven't had the chance to talk to Drew about it since, and the thought lingers in the back of your mind. You don’t want another clueless moment to make it into the tabloids.

You wash your hands, fix your makeup, and prepare to head back out. But as you step through the door, you see Drew standing there, waiting.

“Well, look who it is—the jokester,” you say, crossing your arms with a mock grin. “Here to ask me out on another one-sided date?”

Drew smirks, stepping closer. “Huh? What are you talking about? I’m just here to pee,” he teases, nudging your shoulder.

“Not funny,” you mutter, rolling your eyes but feeling a smile tug at the corner of your mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” His smile softens, and for the first time since the red carpet, you can tell he actually feels a little guilty. “I really am.”

“You should be!” You huff, but your tone is playful now, your annoyance melting away as you meet his eyes. "That was so long ago."

Drew takes a step closer, and you suddenly become very aware of the quietness around you. It’s just the two of you now, the noise of the premiere distant, almost forgotten. His gaze flickers to your lips for just a second, and your heart skips a beat.

“Y/N…” He hesitates, like he’s trying to find the right words. “About that second date…”

“You mean actual first date?” you correct him, raising an eyebrow, trying to keep your cool.

Drew pauses, then chuckles softly. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actual first date. What do you think?”

You stare at him, caught off guard. You weren’t expecting him to just put it out there like that. His easygoing nature usually means he hides behind jokes or avoids direct confrontation. But now, with no cameras, no noise—just you and him—he’s being sincere.

“You know,” you say, your voice quieter now, “if you made it clear the first time, I still would’ve said yes.”

Drew’s eyes widen slightly, and a smile slowly spreads across his face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. “Really.”

His grin widens, and there’s something boyishly excited about it, like you’ve just given him the best news of the day. “No froyo this time, I promise.”

“Good,” you laugh. “Because that wasn’t a date.”

“Duly noted.” He steps closer, his hand brushing yours, and this time it doesn’t feel accidental. His fingers curl around yours lightly, the touch sending a spark through you.

“You know, we could leave early,” he suggests, glancing back towards the theater. “Skip the rest of the screening, maybe grab some dinner… somewhere where I make it clear it’s a date.”

You bite your lip, considering it, but your eyes narrow playfully. “And deal with the wrath of our PR teams later? You must love living dangerously.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You make a good point. But I promise, after all the photos, after all the interviews... we’ll do this right.”

You nod, smiling at him. “I’ll hold you to that.”

With that, you both walk back into the theater. His hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before he finally lets go, and even as you take your seats for the rest of the screening, the air between you has changed.

You glance at him once more, feeling that familiar warmth return, only this time, it’s not confusing or awkward.

The noise of the film dims around you, though you’re still hyper-aware of the room, the hundreds of eyes on the screen, and the occasional flash from the press in the back. Drew leans back in his seat, arms crossed loosely, but he’s not watching the movie either. Instead, he looks over at you, catching your eye.

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you quickly face forward, pretending to focus on the movie. But then, from the corner of your vision, you feel him move slightly closer. The tension that was always there, that you’d pushed aside so many times, is undeniable now.

After the premiere ends, there’s the usual round of applause and the hum of people slowly rising to leave. Drew stands up first, offering you his hand, and even though you can stand up just fine on your own, you take it. There’s something about that gesture that feels significant—like you’ve crossed a line you didn’t realize you were approaching until now.

You’re both still in work mode, nodding and smiling at the industry people you pass, but the moment you’re outside, the cool night air hitting your face, Drew turns to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Alright,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “How do you feel about grabbing that dinner tonight?”

You blink, caught off guard by how fast he’s moving. “Tonight? We just got out of the premiere,” you laugh, though there’s excitement bubbling under the surface. “I know, but if I wait any longer, who knows what crazy schedules we’ll get caught up in again.” He steps closer, his smile genuine, warm. “I’ve waited this long to actually do it right. What’s a few more hours?"

“Alright,” you say, a grin breaking through. “Let’s do it. Dinner—our actual first date.”

His eyes light up. “Great. I know a place.”

The restaurant Drew takes you to is tucked away, quiet and intimate, and you laugh at how quaint it is, most of the other diners are old enough to be your grandparents. You feel comfort knowing most of them don't have phones let alone know who the both of you are. For all they care, you could be two kids coming home from a costume party just ending the night with a bite.

“So,” you say as you both sit down, menus in hand but neither of you really looking at them. “This is what a proper date feels like, huh?”

Drew leans back in his chair, grinning. “Better than froyo, right?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Significantly better.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, the kind where you both just look at each other and realize this is happening—really happening. You’re on a date with Drew, and it’s not some PR stunt or a casual hangout. It’s real. And for the first time, you’re letting yourself want it. "You think they're wondering why we're over dressed?" You hide behind a menu. "Overdressed? Excuse me? This is what I wear everyday." Drew retorts, making you chortle.

“So,” you say, resting your chin on your hand, “What’s the plan after this? Froyo?”

Drew chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

He grins, eyes glinting with that same playful energy you’ve always liked. “Well, I’ll make sure tonight’s memorable enough that it overshadows that.”

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[chaithetics]

Desperate to Please

Pairing: Kendall Roy x f (afab) reader Part 2 (To Sit in Hell with You) Word count: 4.3K Warning: 18+ MDNI interact, my attempt at sexual tension, smut, language warning, a couple of references to canonical-esque drug use and toxic Roy family dynamics, bit of angst I guess? Not proof-read and run on sentences. Reader has no physical descriptions, it's you! A/N: HAPPY SUCCESSION SUNDAY! I hope you all enjoy this Kendall brainrot, I was a bit scared as this was my first time writing a Kendall fic, I'd only written him in Stewy x Roy reader fics before. I hope you all enjoy this! Big thank you to @waystarkia and @maraschinodreamo for enabling this! You're amazing besties, I adore you and I needed your support, big forehead kisses! Comments and reblogs are appreciated 🫶 My last few fics have been big flops so extra nervous!

You remember when he glided through the corridors of Harvard. How every party you went to and that you had a pit of dread in your stomach over as it could’ve been three hours devoted to rereading the assigned readings and going over your notes. He was there, always there, laughing with a giggling, intimate crowd and snorting powdered lines off any and every surface. 

It gave you a bitter, metallic taste in your mouth. How easy it was for him, how even when he flew too close to the sun there were always a million doors open for him, you couldn’t help but feel envious of that. 

When you needed to maintain a certain GPA for your scholarships, had to wear sweaters down to the last thread, keep up with the readings, the extracurriculars, any internships, anything and everything to get your foot in the door. It was miserable and intense. 

While there was something alluring in how much of a window to his soul those brown eyes were, you didn’t have time to look in them long enough to see a world of emotional turmoil and toxic family dynamics. 

He didn’t say much about his family, ever. And when he did, it was dismissive, deflective, perfectly media trained, he’d speak just like a politician he’d deflect the question and never satisfy the questioner. To the point that if you were in a bad mood, you’d wonder if even his pauses of ‘uh’ and ‘like’ were calculated. 

There was a collection of the finest, custom-tailored suits with his killer initials monogrammed, just waiting for him to slip them on. You weren’t old money and you definitely weren’t new money, your academic and professional career had been a never ending fight just to get a seat at the table. You couldn’t stand it, you would bite your tongue whenever you became nauseated from being in a room too long that reeked of the nepotism cologne they all assaulted your senses with. It was a slap against your face.

If he wasn’t so entitled, when you first met him you might’ve swooned over him, you would’ve swooned over him. Without a doubt. It just wasn’t a fun thing to admit to yourself, not back then and not now. 

You’d climbed a ladder, working hard, offering a polite but intelligent demeanour with a meticulous academic record and a work ethic that gave capitalism a boner. It had all led to a pretty sweet (enormously stressful) gig at Pierce Global Media. It made sense, you’d spend your college days side-eyeing him whenever he spoke or did anything at a party, racing a race he didn’t even know he was running in. Of course you’d end up working at his family’s competition. The politics of PGM also made it a lot easier to sleep at night, you could never imagine working at Waystar, ATN made you gag. 

You had a nice wardrobe and the bank account to prove ‘success’, you might've been petty but you still felt resentment over him, even if the trajectory of his life wasn't so smooth. But you were too busy to keep track of the countless edits on his Wikipedia page. He probably had assistants continuously rectify them.  

You didn't spare a thought to Kendall Roy or the suits walking in and out of country clubs. Except for when he was name dropped in PGM articles and broadcasts. That was all he was worth. It was all you’d allow him to be worth in your post-college, shiny grown up lives. 

And of course at moments like right now, when you’re on the clock and have to smile through the torture of corporate events like the heavily photographed and stressful galas and award shows. Fundraisers that are an excuse for sealing secret deals, getting wasted and showing off who was able to get the finest threads. 

Kendall was present of course, playing his usual role of the charming dancing monkey barely maintaining his father’s approval. 

He stood across the room, wearing a dark suit, freshly shaven while holding a thin, fragile glass in his hand. Kendall smiled as he mingled and networked like the trained pup he was, it was his party trick after a lifetime of these endless events and shallow faces. 

You went to bite your lip as you looked at him while a PGM comms employee spoke to you. It was only the thought of messing up your lipstick that stopped you. 

Kendall Roy was hot though, despite everything you’d have to give him that at the least. Begrudgingly. 

After going to the restroom and making sure you still looked perfectly presentable, you couldn’t help but still feel out of place at these events. No matter how much you climbed up the ladder, it was a severe case of imposter syndrome. 

You’d come out of the restroom and almost bumped into Kendall. “Oh shit!” You said, gasping as you placed a hand on your chest. 

He placed a hand on your arm to steady you, as if you were at risk of falling over. His touch burned you and it sent a shiver up your spine. “You okay?” He asked as his eyes raked over you, checking you were okay and then slowly taking in the view from head to toe. “Yeah, yeah, just gave me a fright. Sorry.” You respond, meeting his eyes as he looks back at your face. 

His hand is still on your arm, you can feel the heat of it radiating through to the rest of your body, and it is doing something to the most sensitive parts of you. 

You move slightly so that his hand falls down and he quickly returns it to his side and you pretend to adjust your dress as if you hadn’t been doing that two minutes ago in the bathroom. You try to avoid his eyes as you do this, you don’t want him to get the chance to see how that touch made you feel, the idea of it makes you feel sick to your stomach. “I didn’t expect to see you here, thought you’d be worried about some uh, kitchen cross-contamination.” He says as his eyes focus on your face. “I am, there’s a bottle of Purell in my purse and I have a bathtub filled with disinfectant waiting for me at home.” You quip back. 

“Uh huh, so pick your poison? Buried alive or in a conversation with a scary billionaire.” He raises an eyebrow as a slightly smug smile starts to grace his handsome face. 

“Buried alive.” You look into his eyes, and you almost want to melt with how he’s looking at you, as if he can read your mind and see everything. Giving you his full attention. “Worms would be easier company.” Kendall’s head tips down for a moment and he nods while chuckling, it’s a dry sound and you fight the urge to pick at your nails as you watch him chuckle. “Sure, sure, sure. I mean you did say easier instead of like, better. So my ego’s not completely bruised.” He says with a smirk as he looks down at his shoes. 

“I hear verbal punches aren’t doing it these days.” You say as you watch him, his gaze leaves the floor as it combs through you again, taking in your appearance appreciatively and a glint of something else burns in his eyes for a moment. “There’s other ways to impact an ego. I know you can do more than bruise it.” He says quietly in a low voice made just for your ears. 

You almost freeze at that, you can feel it run through your whole body, shooting through your spine and the air you’d just inhaled feels trapped. Screaming for a way out. You exhale slowly, avoiding his gaze as your eyes latch onto a waiter and you politely stop him as you take a tall glass off of the platter he’s holding. The taste is a sensory respite from Kendall's existence and you focus on that as you take a sip and hold the glass for dear life. 

“What? I drive you, speechless?” He teases as he watches you with a smirk, there’s a slight flush on his cheeks. 

“I’d disagree.” You whisper looking back at him finally, feeling a little more composed despite your heart still beating faster than a rabbit. 

“You’re not chatty for an old Harvard friend, never have been.” He says as if this observation is something new and fascinating. 

“An old Harvard friend? My invitation to the boys club seemed to have been lost in the mail, quite a delay, you might want to change your postal provider.” You quickly retort and sip your drink. 

“Have you always felt the need to be so…” He waves his hand slightly as if that’ll perfectly communicate whatever adjective he means. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Well I seem to leave a bitter taste in your mouth.” 

“You don’t leave anything in my mouth, you’re not even an afterthought on a good day.” You say, he smiles and takes a sip from his glass. 

“You’re breaking my heart here!” He says playfully, melodramatically and his smile grows into a wolfish grin. “Because there’s definitely an attraction here.” 

“Excuse me?” Your voice goes up in exasperation at the audacity of the man standing in front of you. Sure he might be right, of course you’re attracted to him… How could you not be? When that suit perfectly fits his physique and he’s trying to disarm you with his stupid words and cocky smiles. 

“Come on, it’s fucking uh, nuclear- it’s nuclear! All this energy and potentially more sustainable for- you catch my drift. I feel it, you feel it. And I’m the goddamn man and I can see that facade falling, crumbling away like ancient ruins for something better.” He says confidently and somewhat excitedly. 

“I don’t feel it.” You lie. 

He scoffs, chuckling and looks at you, he licks his lips for a moment and you almost let out a soft moan at the sight of that, barely able to suppress it and you want to scream at yourself. You’re crumbling. 

“Sure, sure, can’t bed the big bad wolf on the screaming populist side, wouldn’t look clean cut, would it?” He asks and you just look at him, you try to keep your face steely and not show a glimpse of anything else. “Sure fine, I’ll fucking play ball, baby.” 

“It’s corporate.” He says with a casual shrug as if that answers whatever conundrum he thinks you’re possibly in that you don’t want to enlighten him on. “So, come on, I’ll uh, strip down to my Waystar Royco ™ skivvies, show you a gilded skeleton in my closet and you can like uh, take me to the glue factory and show me a horse that’s been sold and how the horse gets melted, sausage gets made.” He tilts his head to look at you, a playful smile as he looks at your soft lips. 

“There’s legislation- regulations against that now. I know it might be a new word for you but you should have your assistant look it up for you.” You say with a sigh and look down at your glass, avoiding the glint of an awkward charm in his eyes. 

“I’m a good guy, I’m not 100% whatever the fuck you’ve painted me out to be, I don’t get a hard on out of systemic oppression.” He says casually as he looks at your face, analysing each blink, he must’ve stepped closer, you swear you can feel his breath against you as he speaks. 

“It benefits you at the least.” You whisper. 

“Yeah, it does. But I didn’t make the system.” He whispers back and you can’t help but bite the corner of your lip as the breath from his words tickles your cheek. “I made a very generous donation to gynaecological cancer last month.” He says playfully and you can’t help but scoff at that, he smiles widely at your scoff, pleased with your reaction. 

“I’m aware, it was reported on, by PGM as well.” You tease and he smiles. 

“I’m something of a philanthropist myself.” He chuckles proudly. “So?” 

“So?” You ask looking at him, taking in the way he holds his glass, the arch of his dark eyebrows and every line on his face. “That’s your stage direction to start uh swooning and like fawning and fainting into my arms.” 

“Do those lines work usually?” You ask with a tone of disbelief. 

“I’m Kendall Roy, I don’t need lines.” He immediately quips back with a cocky tone. 

“Doesn’t use lines, right… I didn’t realise Kendall Roy ever needed to beg.” You watch his finger trace the rim of the glass in his hand. There’s something about it, it entrances you and you feel your cheeks heat up like he’s just started a fire. 

“Trust me, you’d know if I was begging.” He says as that signature slight smile turns into a confident smirk. “And we’re not there, yet.” 

It feels dangerous and your muscles tense as you look at him, his dark eyes have a playful glint that sends a shiver up your spine. You feel your hand grip the glass much tighter, as if you’re moments away from cracking it. 

“Come on, I’m a hot shot- in fact, the hot shot, and you’re uh, Botticelli’s Venus here-” he tilts his head down and waves his hand slightly. “Dressed to the nines and all.” 

“Mm, going above and beyond, not just numbers and stock value, you know art too.” 

“Oh yeah, I can uh name it all, namedrop beyond DaVinci, I can rattle off about uh, Mondrian with his little lines,  you’ve probably got what? A Pollock in your apartment, to what? Feels a little spontaneous when you clock off? Classy and cute Hilma af Klint?” He asks with a raised eyebrow and sips his drink as his eyes bore into your soul. 

You tilt your head to look at him, watching him as he sips from that flute. There’s cockiness there and under other circumstances, you’d be disappointed in yourself for how quickly that melts away any hesitancies you have. He knows what he’s doing and you know what you’re going to do. You’re both nocturnal moths, feeling alive and awake this evening, craving something more. Needing something more. Two moths drawn to the exact flame. 

You’re in his penthouse, his stupid fancy penthouse that would make child you scream if you knew how much this place cost. You don’t care about that right now, right now you’re a pot on a stove simmering with years, years, worth of need for him and it’s about to overflow and spill. 

As soon as you’re inside he pounces on you, he’s eager and his body is agile and he moves like a feline. Quickly pawing you to get what he needs. What you both need. You don’t bother to try and repress any of your noises and neither does he. 

You put your hands up to his head to lightly scratch his scalp, he buries his head against your throat and groans out as you do and you feel his wet lips press hungrily against your throat. He sucks against your skin and you whine out as he keeps kissing, feeling your sensitive skin in his journey to not leave an inch of skin untouched. 

Kendall guides you to the sofa as he does this, he does it with surprising ease as he keeps listening to the beautiful music of his wet kisses against you and your sweet moans. Kendall gently but firmly pushes you down onto the sofa and you let out a gasp as he does. 

Once you're seated and sprawled out for him like a personal masterpiece, he pushes the hem of the skirt of your dress up to your hips, Kendall immediately drops to his knees in front of you, ready in position to worship you as you deserve. Kendall spreads your legs with a swift motion and groans as he positions himself, knelt down between your thighs. Ken breathes heavily and slowly, completely mesmerised and his heart beats louder than thunder in his ears. God, he needs this. God, he needs you. So fucking badly.

His hand touches your knee and runs up your thigh, his eyes are wide as he looks at your body reverently, lust sparks in his eyes. His thumb starts to brush against your inner thigh gently and you sharply inhale as you watch him. 

“I know what you think and I… I get it,” he breathes out heavily as he looks up at you with lust-blown but genuine big, wide eyes and you feel your own breath become more shaky as you look down at him. “It wasn’t all fucking sunshine and lollipops and feeding fucking ducks bread in the park, you know?” He says looking up at you. 

Fingers grip your thighs tighter at that bringing out a sharp gasp, fear over the implication of his confession even with how vague it is, the lack of explicit over the pressure, the verbal and emotional abuse he endured as a defenceless child while board members watched and said nothing. How all the adults he knew would either laugh awkwardly or go quiet, dismissive, when Roman was hit. How he watched it all, saw things even Shiv and Roman don’t remember. Things he can’t speak or begin to imagine saying. 

“He’s this boogeyman legend, the GOAT of media but a fucking mythical ghoul in all of our rooms.” He whispers, desperate for some external validation, you nod and caress his hair slowly, taking in his words patiently as he speaks. “It was this psychological prison, each mansion, penthouse, five star emotional abuse, make fucking Gordon Ramsay cry, one that everyone wanted to walk into and not comprehend the uh, consequences.” 

You just nod and listen, you’re not sure what to say, especially what to say to his words in this situation. But there’s a change in his eyes that he sees. He feels safe here, he feels safe and seen as he kneels and worships at the altar of his deity of beauty. 

His fingers apply more pressure as he touches your thighs, he needs you, he knows in his brain and his heart that you’re what will make him feel better right now. Every muscle, organ and bone knows it, especially the one growing and hardening in his pants right now. The feeling of his fingers tickle and you watch him lazily, his touch feels good and there’s something about him doing it, the way he looks at you, like your some masterpiece that should be front and centre of the Louvre. 

Kendall presses a kiss to your thigh, you let out a shaky breath you didn’t realise you were holding in as you feel his warm breath against your sensitive skin. You close your eyes and take a deep breath as he quickly runs a trail of kisses up your thigh before getting to your core. 

He immediately presses his face against your core, your eyes widen as you feel him, you feel his mouth on you even with the fabric of your underwear creating a barrier between you two. It’s a new feeling as you feel him kiss and then lick your sweet pussy through your panties. They quickly become wet with his tongue frantically moving and your arousal leaking out. 

A soft whimper leaves your mouth at the feeling, the friction and how good his mouth feels even with that barrier. He keeps moving at that frantic pace, his left hand grips your thigh, keeping it pinned to the couch and massaging the soft flesh while his other slowly snakes up your body so he can squeeze your breast and pull out another delicious whimper. 

The sounds you’re making makes him harder and he groans against you, the vibration of that makes you throw your head back and whimper again. You need more. It’s so hot to have him in this way, to have him so desperate for you he’ll try to lap you up through your panties but you need to properly feel him. You try to buck your hips up to get him closer, you need him. 

He continues and groans at that, he shakes his head against you and swirls his sweet tongue around and you cry out. 

“I need- Ken, Ken! Please!” You cry out needily. “I can already taste how sweet you are through your soaked panties, baby.” He whispers as he pulls back slightly. 

“Take them off…” You whisper as you look into his lust-blown eyes, they’re just as needy if not more than yours. 

He immediately takes them off and you whine out as he does, his hands are quick and efficient. Before you can even blink Kendall has dived right back in, determined to taste you right from the source with nothing in his way. 

Ken’s wanted this for so long, he’s needed it for so long. 

Kendall doesn’t worry about trying to warm you up, it’s not even a thought that crosses his mind. His mouth runs along your folds, and before you know it he’s pressed his face to you even more and he starts to lap you up. His eyes roll back and he closes them, whining against you as he laps up your fluids and uses his tongue to send you to heaven. 

His vibrations make you bite your lip and you buck your hips up again, one arm stretched out to the armrest of the sofa and you claw it mercilessly, just as he laps you up. Kendall then tilts his head slightly and groans, he lightly presses his nose against your sensitive bundle of nerves and you cry out, the loudest you ever have. 

Your eyes widen and you look down at him as you moan loudly and he continues. He keeps licking you up and moving his nose against you. While you’re clawing the armrest, your back arches and you try to press yourself more into his touch needing more, it’s insanely and perfectly wanton. Moving your freehand into his short dark hair, you tug on it. You barely need to tug it to guide him as he moves perfectly and is giving you the greatest pleasure you’ve ever felt before. 

Kendall continues, drowning in your juices and making sure not a single drop is wasted. He’s tasted it now and it’s amazing, life changing, how could he sit before you and waste a drop? He savours your scent and taste as tongue licks you and his nose keeps moving and applying the perfect amount of pressure to your now throbbing clitoris. 

His movements are desperate and that of a starved man. You can see it, feel it and it’s what he is. He’s a starved man and you’re his perfect banquet. He continues, needing to make you orgasm. He’s drowning in you, his mouth and nose but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He takes a deep breath and his hand moves along your thigh, squeezing it and he grips your hip tightly. 

You’re getting closer and closer just from that clitoral stimulation and he can tell, he moves his face up so he can look at you. See how pleasure is painted across your face, he moves so his tongue laps up at your clitoris, swirling around it and making you shake and moan. Fuck, you look so pretty he thinks and you can’t help but think how good he looks like this, down on his knees in front of you, with his tongue buried between your legs. 

Kendall continues and you moan more. You’re not sure how long it’s been, he hasn’t been between your legs long enough, you know that for sure. You need him there longer but you know you’re just a flick of his tongue away from being pushed over the cliff and orgasming then and there. You tug on his hair and groan. 

“Goddamnit, I’m so close…” You whine out and bite your lip as your cheeks heat up more and he smiles against you, caressing your thigh and he continues licking. After the shortest five seconds in the world you pant and your back arches as you release. 

The taste is sweet and perfect, just as Kendall knew it would be. He groans against you, it turns him on so much. He continues to lap it up, just slower now, so he doesn’t overwhelm you too much and so he can savour each drop of your release. 

You moan as he continues, he keeps his face buried between your legs for a moment, caressing your thighs and when he can tell your breathing has recovered a little. He dives right back in. 

Making you come? That was something he needed to do. Only doing it once? That was pathetic. Kendall needed to hear those moans from you, to taste you, at least a few more times tonight. And that’s what he was going to do. 

Before you can utter a word, Kendall has already started to lap you up again desperately. He had something to prove after all, he always had something to prove. And if he could pull the sweetest noises out of you, the prettiest thing he's seen, who had despised him since college, what couldn't he do? What more approval could he be denied when you gripped his hair and bucked your hips up desperately searching for more pressure from his tongue. He had made himself right at home in this position, how couldn’t he?

[anna-does-a-fandom-thing]

nothing serious.

professor! anakin skywalker.

a/n: hiii! so, @fuckmyskywalker came up with the idea for this concept, and I've decided to write my own fic on it! LOVEE me some starwars boy. But put him in a SUIT?? drool worthyyy.

tw!: smut. lots of smut. ahem. p in v sex, sort of breeding kink? it's small but it's there. use of the name pet!! unprotected sex! do not attempt! dumification kink? also miniscule but there. big big sir kink. Anakin loves asserting the fact that he's the top here.

Disclaimer: 18+ only please! I'm not responsible for the media you consume as an adolescent!

description: Attending the most sought after university definitely was the best decision you'd made regarding your college career, but one perverted professor almost makes you want drop out entirely. Anakin Skywalker, was in no short terms, egotistical and a hard-ass. At least that's what you knew, so why is he asking to see you after class?

Ah, Corscuscant University. One of the most popular STEM universities in the country. The same STEM university you attended. Being a biology major, it was a no brainer for you come here. When you arrived as a freshman Corscuscant felt like your dream school, but like every dream, reality had set in. Your painful reality was Anakin Skywalker; your math professor. Professor Skywalker was one of, if not the most attractive man you had ever seen. He knew he was good looking, too. Almost every person in school had a crush on him, one of those people being you. That's not to say you didn't find him annoying as hell, but you could appreciate a good complexion when you saw one. Despite his good looks, it didn't change the fact that Anakin Skywalker was an egotistical hard ass, whose courses were next to impossible.

It was easy to ignore his big mouth and jabs at any poor soul unfortunate enough to get a question wrong in the beginning, focusing on your studies and logarithmic equations. However, as the class began to get more difficult, your counselor started suggesting attending his after school lessons. Something you couldn't be bribed to attend. But alas, hell hath no fury like a college counselor.

The good thing about Anakin's tutoring is that it's only on Fridays. The bad thing, is that it's a ghost town most days. if he's lucky, Anakin might get 2 or 3 students. So by the second semester, it became just you and him.

Anakin Skywalker was now aware of your existence. He was aware you sucked at math, and he was probably aware of your attraction to college professors who made even Pythagoras hate math. So now here the two of you were.

Just earlier that morning, you'd been notified that the tutoring had been canceled, so your plans for the evening were to go home and sleep. But, before you can walk out of the classroom, Professor Skywalker calls your name. Leaning against his chair, he looks at you piercingly. "Come to my office as soon as possible. We need to discuss your grade in my class."

"Yes professor. " You stuttered, sending a questioning glance to your friend. You walked towards Anakin's office, knowing he'd already be in the room. You hesitated to enter, dreading whatever miserable information he had to bestow upon you, in private. You noticed while peering into the room that he's got a paper in his hand. 'please don't be mine,' you pray.

Once you entered, you moved to stand in front of his desk. "Are you free to stay awhile? I have some questions about your last exam." He says, seeming relaxed. You DID have plans, no, you were not free. Ugh. You guess you can't deny your teacher, so you nod politely. "Great to hear." He says, motioning for you to walk around the desk.

Anakin rolls out his seat, and moves to stand. Now standing in his personal bubble, per his suggestion, you fidget with your hands. "So, what about my exam? Did I fail it, sir?" You start to get worried. "No, no, nothing like that. You actually made top of the class once I graded it." Anakin praised. "I'd actually like to offer you some extra credit."

Anakin motioned for you to take a seat on top of his desk. "What kind of credit?" You asked, now level eye level with his chin. "Just some extra course work and a few more sessions in the week." Anakin shrugged, almost distracted. You hesitated, "I suppose I can, uhm, do that." Anakin smiled at your stutter. He placed his hand under your chin and lifted it to meet his eyes. "You're certainly obedient. I like that." You felt your brain screech to a halt. "Excuse me, what?"

Is Professor Skywalker hitting on you? This has to be a dream. You look up at him, and lo and behold, he's staring right back. He looks hungry, like you're a delicious piece of meat. "You behave when and how i tell you to. Has anyone ever told you that's attractive?" Anakin clarifies, placing both of his hands on desk, trapping you under him. You bristle at his statement. "Sir! that's inappropriate!" Anakin just laughs, and leans in. He says, quietly, "That's alright, pet. It's only inappropriate if someone finds out. I don't intend on telling a soul."

You feel your nose subconsciously scrunch up in confusion. "Pet?" Where did that come from? "You're my little teacher's pet, aren't you? It'll be our little secret." Anakin places one hand on your thigh, the other further along the desk to prop himself up. You can feel his hand wander to your hip, and you're not sure you want to stop him. You didn't know someone's hands could feel that good, with his feather like movements. You're about to let him continue, until you remind yourself that you didn't lock his door. Anyone could walk in.

"Wait, not here. Someone will see." You try to push Anakin away, but he grabs your wrist to restrain you, gently. "Yes here. I can't stop myself." Anakin ducks his head below your chin, and places butterfly kisses along your throat. You hold it in, but you want to moan at his touch. Anakin pulls away, "I'm going to give you your first extra credit assignment. Answer these 3 questions."

You try to focus on his words and not the pooling heat between your legs. "Yes sir." You're pretty sure Anakin noticed you squeezing your thighs together like no tomorrow, and he's just saying these things to rile you up. He quietly moans at your obedience. "Good girl, keeping doing that." You look at him, "What, calling you sir?"

Anakin nods, giving your hip a squeeze. "Yeah, baby. It means you know who's in charge here."

Clearing his throat, Anakin begins. "Now, question one. are you aware of how tempting your body has been to me?" You can feel your cheeks lighting on fire. He's certainly been bold. "N-no sir."

"That's okay, beauty, I'll show you. Question two: will you let me kiss you?"

Oh fuck. You knew that was coming. Oh well, you only live once. "Yes sir." As soon as the words left your lips, Anakin had cupped your cheek, pulling you into a passionate kiss. Anakin was a good kisser. You'd figured that was probably true a while ago, but now? To feel him? It was overwhelming. He pushed against your mouth, using one hand to lift your leg against his hip. Using the new angle, Anakin deepened the kiss causing you both to moan against each other.

You can feel Anakin get more and more aggressive in the kiss, to the point he's pushing the desk a little. You pull away from him for a moment, causing him to chase your lips. "Anakin.." You start, but he cuts you off with a growl. "Who, pet?" You should've expected that one. "You, sir. You're pushing the desk apart." You correct yourself quietly, murmuring your concerns into his ear. Anakin frowns in thought before donning a sultry grin. "I've got a better place for us to continue, dear pet." Before you can question him, Anakin wraps your legs around his waist and takes your mouth in a kiss. He lifts you from the desk before walking towards the couch in the corner of his office.

You yelp as Anakin gently throws you onto it, and you're once again locking lips.

"Mm, sir.." You moaned into his mouth, feeling him crawl on top of you. Anakin smiles, looking down at such a pretty sight. "Such a good girl, pet. You gonna spread f'me?" Anakin tapped your thighs, and you pulled them apart at his request. Anakin settled himself between your legs. "For the last question, pet," Anakin pulls up your skirt and hooks his fingers into the hem of your underwear. "How badly do you want me to fuck you?" Feeling your heart speed up, you replied shaking, "So badly, sir. Please."

"Good girl. you've earned yourself an A+." He rasps, sitting up and undoing his belt. Craning your head, you watch as Anakin unzips his trousers. You almost gasp when he pulls out his dick. You're not even sure you can take him, with how large he is. "It's alright, pet, no need to look scared." Anakin cooed, kissing your jaw. He lifted up your skirt, and pulled on the hem of your underwear. Discarding them, you were now bare for his eyes to see. "We'll go slow, baby." Anakin reassured you, lining himself up with your entrance. Gently as Anakin could be, he pushed into you. Whimpering, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was both painful and overwhelming, and you instinctually pushed at his chest. "Relax, little pet, relax." Anakin grunted, already being squeezed like a balloon waiting to be popped. Anakin finally bottomed out, after what felt like forever. It felt so good. "Tell me when, darling." Anakin refused to move until you gave him a sign. Taking several deep breaths, you nodded. "No, pet. give me words. Use them, baby."

"Please, sir."

"Please what, my girl?"

You knew Anakin was getting impatient, but you were so overwhelmed with pleasure it was hard to form words. You him growl in your ear. Feeling his hand touch your soft flesh, Anakin gripped your waist and moved without warning, "I'm not going to wait anymore, little pet." You couldn't help but let out a guttural moan. Holy shit. He was so big, and you've never felt so filled in your life. "Sir..!" You cried, pulling him down and kissing him. Anakin begins to kiss you passionately, pressing you into the sofa. His mouth meets yours in a loving and desperate kiss as he starts to move faster, causing your loud whining to be muffled. If you weren't blissed out, you'd die of embarrassment at the lewd noises the two of you created. Anakin, on the other hand, loved it. Feeling him speed up, you pulled away from his mouth and almost screamed. You knew you were close, and you told him so. "Sir, please! Close, close, please.. mm," You were practically crying from how good he felt. "I know pet, I know." Anakin replied, grunting when he felt you squeeze him harder. "God, keep squeezing and I'm gonna burst, baby, fuck."

Hooking his hands under your thighs, Anakin lifted them onto his shoulders, pressing you in half. The new angle made your insides burst with pleasure, making you scream. "C'mon pet, you can do it." Anakin encouraged, hitting all the right spots harder. "Cum for me baby, cum all over my dick, yeah?" His words sent shivers through your spine, and your eyes rolled. It was too much. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you finished with a moan.

However, Anakin didn't stop. Despite your release, Anakin moved even faster. "No, no, sir! I can't!" You cried, already overstimulated to high heaven. "Don't be selfish pet, i know you can do it," Tightening his grip on your thighs, Anakin grunted over, and over, and over with every thrust. "Don't want my cum, baby? huh? Don't want your teacher to fill you up till you're full?"

Too fucked out to use your brain to respond, you squeezed around him again. It was too much for you, and now, the last straw for him. Letting out an animalistic growl, Anakin buried himself as far in you as he could, bottoming out fully. Your tummy felt so warm, being painted with his load for what felt like forever to you.

He collapses on top of you, panting softly. "Such a good girl f'me, baby. M'so proud of you." He coos at you, still out of breath from the intensity of the moment. After a few seconds, Anakin lifts his head and chuckles. "Poor thing, too dumb to respond to me?" He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze. You whine at his teasing, pouting at him. He leans to your ear and whispers, "Don't be shy, baby. You did so good f'me."

[milkywaydrabbles]

AHHHH!! all your rindou drabbles for kinktober are amazinggg , but that hanma shuji was the best one so far 😩!! can i request a #8,#17, and #37 with my man shuji 🙏🙏!

A/N: I'm posting this from the spirit realm please do not perceive me and the monster of a 4k fic I made for him I didn't mean to ;A; I like him a normal amount I promise. Anyways here's the fic I hope you like mwuahh. I also did the alternate universe of Hanma I'm sure that's not what you were exactly expecting but I wanted to keep it out of the realm of gangs just this once! I still tried to keep him a little mean hehe

Virginity/Orgasm denial/overstimulation x Hanma Shuji

You met Hanma when you went to the same school years ago, and being the shit head that he was, always picked on you for fun. It was never malicious the way it was when he was actively picking fights with other boys in gangs, but it was so fucking annoying you couldn’t help but cry with how frustrated you felt. He’d poke fun at you more, looming over you with how tall he was and just tease you until you stormed off. You remember that well, and definitely not fondly. Eventually you saw him less and less at school, and then he stopped coming altogether. The wave of relief that you felt when you were able to just go about your days in peace and quiet was immeasurable. Over time, and over the years, you thought of him less and less and forget him all the same, graduating high school, going to college, finding a job--Hanma was no longer a presence in your life.

Not until adulthood.

You were on your way home, feet dragging with how exhausted you had been feeling at the end of the week--work was hell, but you were grateful for the next two days off. You just needed to make it home in one piece. Of course that was asking for too much, because when you turned the corner your phone went flying out of your hand when you crashed into a brick of a body in front of you with a gasp. “Oh, shit” You hissed, scrambling to grab your phone with a flurry of apologies spewing out of your mouth. The body didn’t seem to acknowledge you, or so you thought, until you heard your name come out of a foreign mouth in a whisper. You paused, actually terrified now to look at who you bumped into, but looked up anyways--to someone you couldn’t recognize. 

“Shit, it is you.” He breathed out with a laugh, smile appearing on his face. You frowned, brows burrowing up in confusion. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” You tried not to be defensive, you really did, but life had turned sour on you at a young age and you didn’t trust any men these days anyways. So you crossed your arms and stood your ground, looking like you were ready to fight at any given moment. The man couldn’t help but cackle, it was like life had slapped him in the face--you weren’t the shy skittish little girl he remembered anymore. You had grown up, fended for yourself, obviously not afraid to get into arguments with men you supposedly didn’t know. He feigned hurt after his laugh, pressing a hand to his chest and jutted his lips in a pout. “Come on, you really don’t remember me? You threw your backpack on me real hard in middle school you know. I think I still have a scar from your book.” Ready to turn away with a middle finger you barely acknowledged what he said, “No I don’t remember....you...” He could practically see the gears in your head turning. “Oh...oh my god--Hanma?” He flashed you a dazzling smile, “In the flesh.”

“Oh fuck off.” You tried storming away, there was no way you had just ran into your middle school bully and he thinks he can just smile at you like you had been besties. You weren’t going to even think about it for the rest of the night, you just needed to get home. Hell maybe he changed, but you weren’t gonna sit there and find out. Not willingly at least, because it turns out he wasn’t ready to end the conversation. “Woah, hey! Come on let’s just talk real quick doll face--” “Excuse me?” The shrill in your voice blatantly told him you were not having it. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Can we talk?” You stopped to look at him--really look at him and holy shit did he grow up. His hair was long to his shoulders, blonde money pieces nicely framing his face--one that was no longer grinning like a snarky piece of shit that you remembered, but soft--eyes almost pleading with you to just give him a chance for the night. And fucking tall--standing taller than six foot you craned your head to look up. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose before answering. “Come on, there’s a bar along the way.”

-

“You’re....so different.” you commented.

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. You learned he left the gang life behind years ago, and that he was a freelance photographer. You also learned that he made lots of friends from his old gang life that actually stuck, and that one of them recently got married. He told you about his travels, about the time he was in juvie (more than once), about what he did after he left school.

And he told you about how he never quite stopped thinking about you. 

That made you pause your commentary at each remark, unable to take a breath in after the admission. Then you scowled. “You were an asshole Hanma. You know that? You were so fucking mean to me. And you’re saying you thought about me all these years? Ha, thought about what, how funny it was to torment me?” You let your anger flow freely with the help of the beer that was now warmed on the table top. He let you vent, getting out all your frustrations that you were never able to when you were a kid--to scared to know what he would do in retaliation. You thought this was better than therapy (and cheaper too.) When you finished your monologue of how much of a dick he was, you threw back the rest of the beer (gross) and looked at the sticky table. He made no moves to get up, which you were surprised over, instead you peeked up at him through your lashes and saw a man that looked as if he’d been slapped across the face. “I’m...wow. Yeah. I was the worst, wasn’t I?” A humorless laugh left his lips. “I didn’t...and listen, this isn’t an excuse, really it’s not, but I didn’t know how to act. You were the cutest girl in school and I just...I was a prick. Life was shitty growing up, and everyone always said ‘if you like a girl pick on her’. I guess it was too much, huh..” Another laugh. “I’m sorry, I really am. I thought I’d never see you again and now you’re here and I don’t--fuck, I’m sorry pretty girl.” Hanma hung his head in shame, playing with the emptied beer bottle in front of him riddled with anxiety. 

There was too much to unpack in one night. You couldn’t believe half of the things he had even said to you tonight. So you decided to sit with it for a while. You excused yourself quietly, after (attempting and failing) to pay for your drink. “I...I have to go, Hanma.” He sighed, understanding enough anyways--it was a long shot for you to ever forgive  him. But then your phone appeared in his line of sight, opened up to a new contact page with his name already up. His eyes shot up at you, hopeful, and took your phone without a pause to write in his number, he might have also changed his name just a bit, adding a heart at the end of ‘Hanma’ , so dry. You rolled your eyes at that, mumbling ‘don’t push your luck’, but kept it anyways. 

-

For the next few weeks (months?) Hanma had integrated himself heavily into your life. You texted him every day, called just as much, and even met up with him for food or drinks a handful of times as your schedules permit. It was odd, having this bond form with someone you used to despise. But it’s not healthy to hold onto grudges like that. Especially from such a young age, and you knew he was really sorry, especially since he admitted to you night one that he had a crazy crush on you. So you let it go over time, and started seeing Hanma shine with his annoying personality again. And once he came out of his shell, really, he acted almost the same. Snarky, making faces, overly cocky like he couldn’t be beat. But he was softer now, and you found it endearing, especially when he’d come to your rescue. You’d be waiting for him to show up at your usual bar spot and be cornered by a man who was too drunk to look at you properly but was still in your face. “Come on, pretty. What’s your name huh?” You scoffed, leaning away from him as you grabbed your drink and covered the top. “Fuck off, dude. Not here for you.” You’d hear the drunkard grumble something about you being a bitch and before you were able to turn to look at him again and tell him off, you saw a tattooed hand grip his shoulder. “What was that?” Hanma leaned down to get in his face, toothpick in between his teeth as he waited. 

“Fucking--nothing, dude, get off me.” Before you knew it the drunk was knocked on his ass on the floor and Hanma was shrugging it off, telling the bartender “He’s too drunk to be here, can we get him out?” with a shrug and a smirk when he was dragged off by security (as if Hanma wasn’t the one to shove him). You breathed out a giggle and smiled, thanking him for the save--and silently calming yourself down. He looked...good, turning back into his intimidating self when it wasn’t directed towards you. You wouldn’t mind seeing him like this more often, especially to your defense. You shake off the feeling and continue on with your conversation as you always do, though you’re distracted with the way he pushes his hand back, and how his veins in his hands look, and how--

“Hey, you good?” 

You blink, startled and looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Unfortunately for you, Hanma has been getting too comfortable around you now. “What, see something you like?” He cooed, dipping his head lower to meet your eyes, voice now to a whisper. You fidget away, drink long forgotten as you try to remember how to breathe again, furrowing your brows. "I don't think I want to be here anymore." It was his turn to frown. "Hey no I'm sorry, I was joking—" "I'm hungry. Do you...wanna just grab takeout and go to my place?" Silently he nodded, dumbfounded that you had invited him over. It felt like an unspoken rule–he wouldn't ask if he could go over, knowing the answer would be 'no.' You weren't ready for him to invade your space like that. But after all this time, after close to six months of non stop talking and relearning each other it felt like the most natural thing in the world for you to ask. Even if you were a little nervous about it. And so you (he) paid your tab and left.

–

The two of you sat comfortably on the floor of your living room, eating from shared plates and having mindless movies on in the background as conversation continued. "Thanks for letting me over, doll–not gonna lie I was getting tired of always going out to a bar." He teased, laughing when he felt you shove him a little with your shoulder. "Be grateful, Hanma." You rebutted with a smile. 

"Shuji."

....

"What?"

"Come on, we’ve been talking for months now. You can’t just call me Shuji? Not just once?” 

You placed your chopsticks down, that fuzzy feeling coming back into your stomach the same as when you stared at him earlier. Could you call him Shuji? Did you think you were close enough to do that? He was so different than the Hanma you knew all those years ago, but somehow the same–still poking fun but now it felt good, the teasing and the taunting was reciprocated–maybe even building up to something else, that you had refused to unlock. “Come on pretty girl,” the name made your head spin and your face get hot, and him leaning in closer to you didn’t help. Hanma brushed your cheek, thumbing at your skin when he cupped your face, “just once. Just call me Shuji, please.” Your breathing hitched, eyes dropping down to look at his lips, and when you looked back up at him you noticed he’d done the same thing. “...You’re being so stupid, Shuji.” Your voice was barely heard above the sound of the TV. He chuckled, lips brushing against yours, “yeah well, you know what they say–love makes you stupid.” You closed the gap that barely existed to begin with, hands latching on to the front of his shirt as Hanma invaded your senses. 

The kiss was dizzying, overwhelming, too much– everything and everywhere all at once. But you couldn’t find it in you to care, not when Hanma had been such a constant in your life recently, not when he admitted to loving you. You could practically feel the cockiness come flooding back, Hanma smiling into the kiss and nipping at your lower lip, easily slipping his tongue in after you granted him access. He’d taken over quickly, hand on your cheek pressing the back of your head deeper into him and the other trailing around your waist to pull you close. He had you straddling him, and you still were trying to keep up with the kiss. “Sh-Shuji, wait, h-hold on.” You broke free enough to speak if only for a moment, but he continued with the kisses down your jaw, and neck, and nipping at the juncture of your shoulder. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?” Fuck, his voice dipped low–the gravely sound was shooting straight down to between your legs. It was hard to breathe, he wasn’t letting up enough for you to tell him, but you needed to, you needed to–

“I’m a virgin.”

Hanma immediately stopped his ministrations, the sound of the TV turning more into white noise than whatever was going on. When he didn’t speak, you felt the need to explain. “I just, I don’t know–don’t fucking laugh, I don’t know what’s going on in your head.” You huffed, embarrassed. “I just...was never interested in hookups. And everyone fucking sucked, so I never...”You trailed off, looking away when Hanma tried to meet your eyes. He cupped your face so sweetly, small smile on his lips as he did so. “Look at me, baby.” His fucking petnames were going to kill you. But you listened anyways. “We can stop, or we can just make out–doesn’t matter to me as long as I have my hands on you.” He snickered and you wanted to smack him. You thought about it too, but you don’t think you’d find anyone better than Hanma.

You loved him, too.

“I don’t want to stop, Shuji.”

He didn’t need anything else after that.

–

“Aah, fuck, Shuji y-you’re being mean again.” You whimpered, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Hanma had your legs open around his waist, working his fingers deep into your virgin hole. It’s already been twenty minutes of him slowly working you open, curling two of his fingers in your cunt and pushing up against that squishy part of your walls that had you climbing up to your orgasm–only for it to never come. Hanma kept fucking stopping. He’d feel how your walls started to clench and twitch around his long fingers, and the absolute bastard would only snicker and pull them out, slapping them lightly against your clit. “Aw, sorry baby–Just can’t get enough of how you look.” He teased, devil horns practically growing on his skull. This was the Hanma you remembered from middle school, and it seems his sadistic torture moved from taunting you at school to taunting you in your own bed. But you don’t think you cared too much, not now. Not when you saw the love in his eyes. Slowly, Hanma pushed in a third finger, a hand coming down to push you into the mattress and keeping you still. “Gotta prep you, doll–don’t want it to hurt, right?” And you don’t think it would, you had toys, it wasn’t unknown territory, but you kept your mouth shut anyways when he looked at you like that, eyes devouring you. His pace quickened, pumping his thick fingers in and out, in and out, until he saw your nose scrunch up and your mouth open–whining and crying out as you climbed closer and closer and closer to your impending orgasm. You could feel it, and you spread your legs just a bit more to give him more space, eyes rolling to the back of your head–

And then he pulled out.

“Shuji!” You were so frustrated, tears flowing freely now with how angry you were feeling. You were ready to start telling him off, until he grabbed your jaw and loomed over you with such authority it made your skin crawl. “If you don’t stop me now, baby doll, I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you again.” His aggressive tendencies never really went away it seemed, even after leaving the gang life behind you had such a grip on him it made him crazy. “Tell me no, and we’ll stop.” He waited a beat, squeezing a bit more at your jaw expectantly. You simply stared at him, stars in your eyes as you looked up at the man. 

“Keep going.” 

Throwing caution to the wind, Hanma kept the hand tightly on your jaw as his messy fingers slipped back into your weeping cunt, finger fucking into you harder and faster than before, all three curling up back into that gummy part and not letting up this time. Your mouth hung open with the pressure he kept on you, moans flowing freely out–you babbled, repeating his name until it all just jumbled together in messy cries. You tried to keep your eyes open but the pressure building up so fast was dizzying. Your eyes rolled back, bordering screaming as he fucked into you. He said nothing, just kept staring at your face of pleasure as you finally descended into your orgasm, crashing over you in waves and not stopping. Your juicy pussy was splashing him, fingers slipping over to rub over your clit just as quickly. Your orgasm hit you like a fucking train, lower body spasming as he kept you at that high. “Too much, too much Shu–too much!” your legs were aching to close, and he let up just enough to let you get away, smacking your pussy twice before. 

Hanma leaned down kissing your throat after letting go of your jaw, whispering against you “First it was not enough, now it’s too much.” He taunted, nipping at your skin before kissing up to your lips again. Even when he was being mean again, he pet your head and wiped away your tears. “You sure you wanna keep goin’ pretty?” You hiccupped, taking the time he’s graciously given you to take a breather, and nodded. He smiled like the devil himself and planted a harsh smooch right on your lips before moving back, lining his cock against your wet folds. “Y’ready, baby doll?” Another nod. He pushed in.

“Ah fuck, Shuji–s’big.” you gasped, arching your back in the pleasure and slight pain you felt. You couldn’t stop yourself–he was big, though you knew you were feeding his ego when you heard a laugh tumble from his lips–deep in his chest. “You’re okay, baby–gonna stretch you out nice on my dick.” He started moving slow, and you swore you could feel each vein as his cock stretched your walls around him. His movement was deliberate, passionate, like he was making sure your pussy would be molded to only take his cock for the rest of your life. Though even if he told you so, you’d openly admit you’d never be able to be with another man after him. As he felt you loosen enough to move freely, he fucked into you faster, leaning over onto his forearms–dropping his forehead to yours, hair forming a curtain around the two of you. “You waited for me, baby? Waited so I could take your virginity, right?” He spoke nonsense and you both knew it. But fuck, he felt so good inside of you, you couldn’t help but let him hear exactly what he wanted. “Waited for you, Shuji–wanted to give it to you.” You were able to barely get your words out before he groaned above you, humping you like a dog in heat. “Fuck, baby doll–pussy’s so fucking tight.” His jaw tightened as he got the words out, angling himself to feel you cum around him again. “Wanna feel you cum, baby, come on, give it to me.” his hips slammed against yours, wicked pace stealing your breath. Silent screams escaped you, gasping and crying when you came around him again, and he relished in the feeling of your abused cunt clenching and twitching around him. “There we go” He breathed out a laugh, kissing your tears as they fell. 

Hanma only let up enough to get his hands on the backs of your thighs and push them up to your chest. He was fully over you now, continuing to pound into your swollen pussy. “Shujiii” You whined, nails clawing at his wrists but unable to move him. At this angle he kept hitting all the right spots and you needed him to slow down. Yet the only word that would spill from your mouth was his name, like a silent prayer or mantra. Your third orgasm of the night came quickly, messier than the first two–your juices splashing on his thighs as he kept fucking into you. Folding in half you had no power to stop him, only able to take the pleasure that was bordering on painful with how quickly he was making you cum with no breaks. “Come on, pretty girl, come on.” Hanma was far gone, pupils blown out with lust–mumbling to himself more than to you, bed creaking underneath you with his strength. 

He maneuvered your thighs to be pressed against your chest with one arm, his now free hand finding your swollen clit and pinching– your screams and moans filling the room as your fourth orgasm felt like a house of bricks being dropped on you. You covered him in your juices, his cock now covered in a frothy white layer that webbed and stuck to the both of you. Even as he let go of your clit, Hanma was still chasing that high–so close to getting off. He wrapped his free hand around your jaw, covering your throat and shoving his thumb into your mouth. “Look at me baby.” He ground out, just to see your fucked out face eyes all teary and glassy. Your mouth was upturned in a slight smile, completely cockdrunk. It was enough to push him over the edge and still deep inside you, shooting his thick load in your abused hole. 

Silence filled the air, and slowly Hanma let go of your face and your legs, pulling out and hissing when he felt his cum dribble out with him. “Fuck..don’t think I’ll ever stop dreaming about that.” He laughed, and laughed harder when your weak hand slapped his shoulder. He dropped his weight next to you, collecting you in his arms with a kiss to your temple. “How you feelin’ baby doll?” He whispered, and you hummed, snuggling deeper into him. “Good. Sore. Always so mean to me.” You teased, feeling yourself off into sleep. He smiled at your temple and let you drift into slumber, at least for now–he’d have to clean you up. 

Until then, he reached over to your phone and finally changed his name in your phone, keeping the heart but replacing his surname with ‘Shuji’.

[aisiedaisie]

I’m kinda living for the whole college Sirius you’ve got going. Never would’ve imagined him as a TA but Astronomy fits soooo well. (Very much looking forward to more of that) But just imagine… Tutor reader and one of the other boys is a barista on campus and they just know the readers order as soon as they walk in because it seems like they always stop by before or after work. I think that would be soooo cute!

Also saw you have designated anons can I be your ⏳ anon if that’s not taken already?

Hello hello~!!! I’m so happy you’re enjoying the college AU! I’m really loving TA!Sirius too, so that storyline will definitely continue. Now, as for your ask—when I saw ‘barista,’ my first thought was to make it a Remus-centered fic. But…I raise you social butterfly barista James Potter. With that said, I hope you enjoy my take on your idea!

Also of course you can be my ⏳anon!!!

Barista!James Potter x Fem!Reader WC: 1.1k

It's early afternoon, and the coffee shop tucked in the far corner of the quad is practically deserted. Only a few frazzled students tap furiously at their keyboards, their brows knitted in concentration, while the occasional professor unwinds after a long string of lectures. Behind the counter, two baristas are stationed, chatting as they clean and restock in leisurely rhythm, bracing for the next rush that’s sure to sweep through those double glass doors in a few hours.

When you step into the shop, just as you do nearly every day around this time, you’re greeted by the soft hum of music filtering through the speakers, barely louder than the clatter of laptop keys and the muffled murmur of conversation. Yet, the sound is familiar and comforting, blending seamlessly with the warmth of the space.

You glance toward the bar, and there he is—James, a familiar face, mid-motion as he turns from cleaning the espresso grinder. His brown eyes light up with recognition, crinkling with a smile that’s warm and easy.

"Hey, love," he greets, pushing his round glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Your usual?"

You can’t help but mirror his smile as you nod, digging into your bag to pull out your wallet. “Yeah, thank you, James.”

At the register, the other barista, a girl with dark red hair pulled into a loose bun, rings up your order. You notice, though, that she pauses as James adds an extra drink to your total. She raises an eyebrow, casting him a questioning look. “She’s only getting one, though?” she asks, her brows furrowing.

“Just trust me, Lils,” James replies, his smile as certain as it is mysterious. With a small sigh, she relents, and you barely notice the extra charge, simply thanking her with a quiet smile before finding an empty table.

You settle in, pulling out your journal and glancing at your phone, gauging how many hours you’ll be spending in the library tonight.

As you begin jotting down notes, your mind drifts to a few concerns your students shared during the last session, the things they struggle with that you’re determined to help them understand. The scratch of your pen on the paper becomes a soothing rhythm until—

A steaming mug lands on a coaster beside your phone, pulling you from your thoughts. You look up, startled, an apology already on your lips. “Sorry,” you murmur, realizing you must’ve missed him calling your name.

James only chuckles, his smile soft yet playful. “Sorry for what, love?”

“Not coming to get my order?”

He laughs, the sound warm and familiar, filling the quiet space between you. “I didn’t even call for you.” He shakes his head, clearly amused. “When I finished with your tea, you were already writing, so I figured I’d just bring it over.”

You thank James with a grateful smile, but he just waves it off, already turning back to the espresso grinder. Lily, meanwhile, busies herself at the small refrigerator, restocking whipped cream canisters with the kind of efficiency that only comes from experience.

You open your journal once more and start drafting a few more notes, tailoring each to help your students in their upcoming sessions. First on today’s list is Evan—a top business student, though lately, he’s hit a wall with Economic History. You’re not entirely sure why. Though the subject is notoriously dry, Evan is bright and usually navigates complex material with ease.

Then again, you’ve noticed a pattern. Every time a certain psychology major sits just outside your study room door, Evan’s focus starts to drift. You’ve seen the stolen glances, the way his attention wavers whenever that familiar face appears in his line of sight.

But you don’t really mind. Evan’s a fast learner, and once he sets his mind to it, he absorbs concepts quickly. With a small smile, you jot down a few more examples, hoping to make the material click despite his latest...distractions.

After some time, you shift in your seat, feeling the strain of being hunched over for so long. You roll your shoulders, feeling a satisfying pop and release of tension. Glancing at your mug, you realize it’s now almost empty; the last bit of lemon mint tea has gone cold, a quiet signal that it’s time to pack up and move on.

You slip your book and journal back into your tote bag and stand, carrying your mug over to the return station, placing it gently in its designated spot. A quick glance at the counter shows James mid-motion, focused on another drink. You approach Lily instead, thanking her for helping out and asking if you could order a tea to-go. Lily just shakes her head, waving you off with a small smile.

“Oh?” you ask, brows furrowing in mild confusion.

Before you can answer, James turns, holding a drink carrier with two steaming cups, his expression radiating a proud, quiet satisfaction. “Figured you’d be heading to the library after this,” he says, a grin tugging at his lips. “So I added a second tea to your order.”

You let out a soft sigh, almost a laugh, and despite yourself, a fond smile tugs at your own lips. “James…”

But he’s already pressing the drinks into your hands, that familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes steady and warm.

“You got the coffee too. Honestly, you’re too good at this job,” you tease, glancing down at the carrier— your usual tea to go and an Americano for Remus at the library desk.

James’ grin widens, his gaze bright with playful pride. “Well, we have to keep our loyal customers around somehow,” he jokes. “Can’t risk you being lured away by another coffee shop on campus.”

You laugh, a soft and genuine sound, as you take the drinks from him. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. This is my favorite spot, after all.” You give him a small, lasting smile, the comfort of this place—and maybe of him—settling around you.

“Good luck with work,” he says warmly, his voice carrying a note of encouragement.

As you make your way to the door, you catch yourself glancing back, a gentle wave accompanying the smile that lingers, soft and warm, just a little longer than you’d planned.

As soon as she steps out the door, Lily glances over at James, raising an eyebrow. “Do you think she noticed you put your number on the cup?”

James shrugs, a bit sheepish but still with a hint of a grin. “Probably. I mean, I hope so.” He leans back against the counter, his expression a mix of casual hope and quiet anticipation.

“I guess we’ll see.”

[restless-mama]

Sol Exposed

Back at it again! Encouraged by my beloved friends from the 14DWY Discord server (I love yall!), I decided to write Sol (from The Kid at the Back, visual novel) fic. Sol belongs to @fantasia-kitt and Christine belongs to me. Female pronouns and etc are used. THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS TO TKAB!

Summary wise, sometimes you just can't do what you want and think you can get away with it! Christine finds out what her crush has done to her and she wants to get even. She exposes him in at least three ways. His naughty deeds, his body, and his feelings.

Warnings: Stalking, Drugs, Handcuffs, subby Sol

Banner belongs to @arklayraven

It was late but as your typical college student, Christine was tapping and clicking on her laptop as she sits at her desk browsing the internet. A glass of orange juice sitting by her laptop. Her phone lights up with a notification. Her lamp on her nightstand was still on emitting light throughout the room. It was Sol, her current crush. He wishes her goodnight and that he’ll see her tomorrow. A high pitch giggle escapes her lips while she kicks her feet a little. If only she could confess her feelings to him. Yes, she had a crush on Crowe in the beginning. She felt it would be better off if Crowe and her remained friends.  Grabbing her phone, she sends a reply biding him goodnight and reminding him to not stay up so late. She was aware of him staying up in wee hours of the night, doing God knows what. 

She looks through some false nails to buy since Halloween was around the corner which is her favorite holiday. Christine orders a set of false nails from an Etsy seller of the name AnastasiasNails. The set of nails were in a coffin cut set with black lace and red small false rubies as designs. 

Another thing she had to order was a costume for the Halloween party her school hosted. She decided to purchase a black gothic lolita dress. It was a halter dress with a bowknot on the halter neck which exposed the rib-shaped cutout on the back. The skirt part of the dress was laced tiered ruffle. After placing her orders, she looked out of her window. The lock was still broken, and it reminded her to look at the hidden cameras she had set up in her apartment. Some of her laundry has gone missing, like her favorite pair of panties. Also, items disappearing and reappearing around her house. Then there were a few mornings with some dried substance on her stomach. A few times she notices bruises on her neck and/or collar bone. However, she doesn’t remember a thing.  

Christine pulls up the footage as her fingers wrapped around the cold glass of orange juice. She sip from the glass that consists of the fruity, tangy drink. Her finger clicking on the mouse to fast forward on the video. Suddenly she stops and watches to see someone climbing through her window with the broken lock. Her brown eyes widen and swallows hard. A surge of anxiety and fear coursed through her body as she continues to watch the hooded figure walked out of her room. Her eyes darts over to the camera recording that was in her kitchen. 

Her brown eyes studied the figure and noticed how tall he was. He was most definitely taller than her which she was only 5’5”. She watches in horror as the figure opened her fridge door to take out her orange juice and twist open the top. Then they took out a pill that looked very familiar, opened the capsule and dropped the powdery medication into her juice. Christine drops the glass that she was drinking out of, onto the ground. She watches in silent horror as she realizes her drink has been spiked. No wonder why she has been sleeping so well lately. 

“Son of a bitch!” Christine curses as she stands up. Her body was shaking a little from what she has watched. She was about to move to grab a nearby towel to dry the orange juice off the carpet, until the figure’s face caught her attention. The brunette stands there in shock and turns her head back to her laptop screen. Their eyes looks very familiar... They were orangey-red. 

“No...” Christine whispers. She knew who those eyes belonged to. ‘He... he wouldn’t... would he?’ The brunette thought her herself.  

The spilled juice was longed forgotten. The young college student sits back down and continues to go through the footage. He does leave her apartment but comes back late at night when she was in bed, asleep. Once again, he sneaks in through her window. She watches him pick up her arm and drop it, confirming that she was in a deep, drugged sleep. He pushed his hood down to reveal his black hair with green highlights and his mask was pushed down under his chin. It was indeed Sol. In the footage, he kisses her face close to her lips. He strokes her hair, tucking a strand of her messy dark brown and red hair behind her ear. She watches him suckling her neck, creating the mysterious bruises, which she realizes were hickies. Then the unthinkable happens. How could he...? He was so kind to her. So protective and caring. 

Christine watches in shock and....arousal? She couldn’t believe she was getting turned on by the sight of Sol doing this to her while she slept. This type of behavior wasn’t acceptable for normal standards, yet she could not deny the surge of pleasure course through her veins as she watched him. The tip of her tongue darts out and laps her top lip, imagine how he would taste. Perhaps she was just as crazy as him... Maybe... She should get even. 

~*~ 

With little effort, it didn’t take much lure Sol back to her apartment. They both had an assignment to finish anyways. Christine, being such a lady, offered Sol something to drink. Once they finished their refreshments, they retreated to her bedroom.  Christine sat down in her chair as the taller man sat down on her bed as he drew her. She could feel his red-orange eyes trace every bit of her body. Her heart pounded in her chest as she keeps it together as she suppresses the need to make him beg. It’s only a matter of time now. 

Sol wipes the sweat off his brow as he notices he has gotten hotter than usual. A surge of lust rans through his veins. He forwards his brows as his eyes bore into his drawing of his beloved. He usually could control his urges when he’s near her. Something was wrong. His heart begins to beat faster, and his pants felt a little too tight against his body. His body is getting hotter by the minute. 

“Sol...?” Christine’s voice could be heard, and the artist looks towards the direction of the voice. He jumps and gasps as he realizes she was inches away from him. His face becomes more flustered. Another surge of pleasure rushed through his body, especially his member. How did she get so close? When did she get so close? The brunette couldn't help but giggle, he noticed the tone of it was more... menacing.  

The brunette moves in closer to him. Her lips inches from his lips. “Are you okay...? My little stalker?” Christine confronts him. His eyes widen in shock.  

“Fuck...!” He whispers. Before he can explain himself, she presses her lips against his in a passionate kiss. His pencil and sketch book drops to the carpet floor as she pushes him down onto her bed. Her hips rolls against his member through the fabric of their pants. This earns a muffled groan from the taller man. Seizing the opportunity, she got a hold of his arms and handcuffs him to the bed frame. 

Sol looks up in shock at his the woman above him. “Christine... let me-” A delicate finger pressed on his lips shushing him from explaining himself. Christine staddles his hips rubbing her groin against him earning a moan from the man below her. His skin was so sensitive and hot. Her scent on her bed was driving him insane more than usual. He wondered what was going on. Then it dawned on him that he didn’t get like this after he drank something she gave him. No... his own beloved couldn’t do this right? She wasn’t capable? Or was he wrong? 

The woman on top of him breaks the kiss. "I added a little something to your drink... Just like you did mine but mine is an aphrodisiac.” Christine giggles. She looks down at him with her caramel eyes full of mischief. “I put hidden camera around my apartment Sol... I know everything... And now, it’s my turn to have my fun with you~” Her soft hands moves under his shirt, pushing it up as she touches his tone torso. As if her touch left a trail of fire in her wake.  Her fingers reach to his pierced nipples and strokes them with her fingers. 

“Ahhh! Christine!” Sol pants out with his face flushed with red, choking down his moans, trying to remain quiet. He was panting and sweat formed on his forehead. His eyes half-lidded and full of desire.  

“Someone’s very sensitive, aren’t they?” Christine said seductively and playfully, “Tell me Sol...” She darts her tongue out and swirls her tongue around his pierced nipple causing him to squirm and whimper uncontrollably, “Is this what you wanted me to do to you? To take this big cock of yours?” Her hand undoes his pants and pulls out his thick, long member and strokes it very slowly. She had to admit... She was impressed by the length and size of his erection. 

The green haired artist looks up at his beloved with a mixture of shock and desire. He hadn’t expected her to be so brazen and forward. “Yes.... Yes! This is what I wanted...” Sol whines out as his throbbing cock leaks precum onto her hand. His own obsession with her was bad enough but with the aphrodisiac running through his veins took it to the next level. Without any hesitation, she pulls off his pants and boxers off.  

“You’re so hard for me...” Christine teases. She sits on her heels and lowers her head over his veiny member, which still leaking with precum. Her lips parted around his wide cock and sucks off his salty seed. She sticks her tongue out and traces the thick veins on his member. Sol’s eyes roll back into his head as he feels Christine’s wet tongue swirling around the over sensitive tip of his cock. He could feel shivers down his spine while his body becomes overloaded with pure pleasure. 

All he could think of was her. Her scent. Her touch. Those lustful yet mischievous, caramel eyes. His fantasies were becoming a reality, but this exceeded his expectations. “Oh fuck, Chris...” Sol gasps between labored breaths, his eyes hazy and burning with desire. “You make me feel so goddamn good...” 

His needy words and pleas were music to her ears. The brunette could feel the surge of arousal shoot down her clit. Christine takes his cock into her mouth sucking him in and taking him deeper into her mouth. Her brown eyes shot up at him to meet his red-orange eyes, maintaining eye contact as she sucks his dick. Sol watches Christine takes his throbbing member deeper into her mouth, swallowing his erection with ease. He gasps loudly at the sight, like he was in a trace. He finds himself utterly captivated by her beauty and the way she seems to relish having power over him. His hips buck involuntarily, driven wild by her experienced oral skill. She takes him deeper in her mouth and into her throat, deep throating him. She swallows, causing her throat to squeeze around him, earning a straggled moan from Sol. 

Suddenly, Christine pulls away. A mix of frustration and confusion could be seen in his eyes as he watches her pull away. “W-why did you stop?” He whines between heavy pants. 

The corner of her lips tugs upward into a smirk as Christine gives Sol a seductive look. Her hand reaches down to the hem of her tight red shirt and slowly pulls it off revealing her breasts in a black lacy bra. She could hear him tug hard against the cuffs. Metal clashing metal. He lets out a long ragged, breath and looks at her hungrily, unable to contain the raw lust burning through his body. His mouthwatering. His eyes never leaving her body as she slowly undresses in front of him. She removes her bra, releasing her breasts from the confines which earns a breathy gasp from him. Her hand finds her hair tie on the end of her brain and removes it, letting her brown and red hair free from the messy braid. 

“Oh God... Pumpkin..” Sol pants as watches her remove her black ripped jeans and panties. Just looking at her nude body, his face was burning from lust and desire. “You’re so beautiful... Please Christine. Take the cuffs off. Let me touch you. I need to touch you.” The green haired handsome man begged. His voice was hoarse. His eyes never left her nude body. They always reminded her of lava and she could feel the heat of his gaze burn onto her skin. 

“No...” Christine denies him and straddles him, rubbing her wet cunt on the underside of his shalf. Sol trembles beneath her and whimpers out her name. She had to admit, her name coming out of his mouth sounded like music to her ears. “You been a very, very bad boy, Sol... I think I’m going to make you beg for forgiveness.” She rolls her hips slow against his throbbing member, earning a needy moan from him. “Or I won’t let you cum.” 

“Fuucckkkk.....!” Sol cried out low as he pulled hard against the cuffs in desperation again. Metal raddles against one another. His body quivers in need. His aching cock was getting harder and hard to the point where it began to hurt as his body reaches to its limits. It needed a release. He HAVE to cum. He couldn’t even think to control himself any longer. His mind clouded by what his body needed. Their eyes met once again, and she could see his pupils blown wide with desire.  

“I’m sorry Christine! Please...” Her stalker chokes out, “I’ll do anything! Anything! Just please, please! Make me come... Let me come!” 

Christine giggles lowly. “So needy and desperate...” She teases him, “You look so cute when you’re at my mercy...” 

Before he could respond, the brunette slips him inside of her warm cunt, earning a throaty groan from the man beneath her. A gasp escapes her lips as his wide cock stretches her pussy walls. Perhaps she may have underestimated his size. Christine forwards her brows and bites her lower lip as she takes all him inside her. Sol watched her intensely and couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Guess I’m a lot more to handle than you thought, huh?” Sol pants out still flustered and desperate yet still able to give her a smug grin. Christine narrows her caramel eyes at him. She pulls herself up until his tip was barely in, she slams down hard in a fast motion taking all of him again.  

“Fuck!” Sol lets out a surprised yelp as his soulmate slams down onto him with force. The cuffs rattle once again as he yanks against them again. His head is thrown back onto her pillows, inhaling her sweet floral scent. God... She smelled divine to him. Her walls tighten hard around him, giving him a hard squeeze before as she starts to move up and down his veiny cock. Suddenly she slams down onto him again and they both let out a moan. Her fingers find his pierced nipples and begin to stroke them as she rides him. She kept her pace unexpected and erratic, driving him into her cunt. 

“Ohhhh fuck...! Pumpkin... You feel so fucking good..” Sol rasped out with his eyes hazy, his face still red, and his mouth slightly agape, drool starting to hang out from the corner of his lips. Christine couldn’t help but moan as his thick girth rubs her sensitive walls in the right places. He was the thickest she had ever taken. 

“Ahhh...” She pants, “You know... You could have asked. I might have said yes... Instead of drugging me...” She whispers as she slams her cunt up and down his cock. She begins to increase her pace, bouncing wildly on him. It was pushing him towards the edge.  

“I know... Ahhh...” Sol moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head, “I’m sorry, Christine...” He sounds sincere even though he sounds so fucked out of his mind. He could feel her warm juices which are mixed with his pre-cum flow down his cock and balls. His balls tighten as he draws near his climax. It didn’t help that she was near her own peak and her walls became tighter and tighter than before. 

“Ahhhh... Fuuuccckkkk...” He groans lowly. His eyes find her face and a surge of pleasure shoots down his hard cock. Before him was his beloved with her face contorted in bliss with her puffy lips parted. Her eyes half lid as she rides him in abandonment. That sight alone threw him over the edge. “Christine...! I’m going to cum!” Sol bucks his hips up wildly to meet her pace, trying to catch his high. They began to move in sync causing both parties to cry out in pleasure. His balls tighten. He could feel the intense pleasure coursing through his veins. His back arches as he releases a torrent of his pent-up seed inside her tight walls. Christine was not far behind him. She moans out sweetly as she cums hard against him member. Her walls gripping him like a vise, milking every drop of his seed. His name leaves her lips as a whisper.  

“I love you, Christine! I love you so much...” Sol whimpers out his confession as he rides out his orgasm. He could feel the heat leaving him a little. It seems that the aphroditic was wearing out. Just a little.  

“Y-you love me?” The brunette breaths out, trying to catch her breath. Her warm caramel eyes looks down to catch his hazy gaze. It was time for Christine to become flushed. Her heart pounding against her chest. “Why didn’t you just say so...?” 

Sol sighs and looks at the woman on top of him, “Shit I don’t know... You looked like you have a crush on Crowe.” He said Crowe’s name with such venom. Was he jealous all along? 

“I had a crush on Crowe.” Christine corrected him and crossed her arms, squeezing her tits together. “Past tense, Sol... Besides, I have a crush on you.” 

“Wait... What?” Sol couldn’t believe his ears. She then slowly pulls herself off him which makes him whimper out in disappointment.  

“You heard me... Now let me uncuff you.” Christine said as she moved to take the key from under her other pillow and uncuffs him. She assumed that he was done and the aphrodisiac had wore off. However, once the cuffs were off, Sol’s large hands were on her waist, and he gently pushes her down onto her bed. A gasp escapes the woman’s lips as the green haired man pins her down by her wrist. Her brown and red hair scattered on her bed. A blush forms on her shocked face. Sol growls lowly at the sight of her. He could feel his blood rushes down to loins, making his member erect once again. 

Her caramel brown eyes meets his red-orange ones which are filled with so much burning desire. She could just simply melt in his gaze. She can’t deny her own desire, especially being held down by him. Sol leans in, their lips just inches from one another. She could feel his hot breath against her cheek. His short green hair tickling her skin. "What happened? You were so bold earlier...” He teases and whispers lowly, “Or you like being held down do you?” 

Before Christine could answer, Sol crushes his lips against her roughly. His cold lip piercings rubbing against her soft lips. She parts her lips, allowing his tongue in as they both kissed passionately. Then she felt the cold metal of her own hand cuffs being applied on her wrist. All she could do was just submit to his power. They continue their heated, passionate kiss until they both break away to breathe. They both pants and gazed into each other's eyes. Sol then pulls away to sit on his heel and removes his two shirts, along with the long black key necklace he had on. After tossing them aside, he lowers his head down to one of her nipples and suckles it into his mouth.  

A sharp gasp was heard followed by a moan as he swirls his tongue around the bulb. Her body arches back. She felt his hand slip down between her legs, his index finger rubbing against her entrance, teasing her and smearing his cum around. Christine moans and squirms beneath him. Sol releases her nipple with a loud “pop” then parts her thighs with his large hands. He growls in delight as he admires his own cum leaking out of her cunt. His member growing harder at such a delectable sight. 

“Fuck... You look so cute when you’re filled up with my cum...” He groans lowly as he rather his own seed with his own fingers and pushes them into her pussy making Christine cry out in pleasure. 

“Sol!” Christine cries out. She could feel her falls stretch to accommodate his thick fingers. His fingers begin to stroke her sensitive walls making her throw her head back in pleasure. Her hips roll to meet his thrusts until he pulls his digits out of her and brings them to her puffy lips. She obediently parts her lips, letting him push his fingers into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the digits to lick and then suck off the cum off his fingers. Once they were licked clean, he pulls them out of her mouth as a string of saliva was still attached from her tongue and his wet fingers.  

The green haired men then push his fingers back into her wet cunt and curls his fingers repeatedly, searching her sensitive spot. A sharp inhaled gasp was heard from the brunette. She was never able to find her own g-spot with her own fingers, but it seems Sol’s fingers were far better. They were longer and able to reach the right spot in her cunt. Her body trembled in delight. Her back arched and she began to moan uncontrollably.  

“Oh my GOD!” Christine cries out in pleasure as her tight walls tighten around. Suddenly, she cums and squirts all over his hand and forearm. Sol doesn’t let up, he continues to drive his digits into her franticly, making her soak her bed sheets beneath her. His name continues to leave her mouth in such debauch manner as she cums and squirts repeatedly. 

“Ahhhh! It feels too good!” The woman whimpered and moaned wildly, uncontrollably. Her walls spasm and contract against his fingers. 

“I just got started and you’re already falling apart.” Sol said lowly, a playful smirk tugged on his pierced lips as he teased her. He then lowers his mouth and stroke his tongue against her clit making Christine roll her hips. A straggled moan escapes her lips. The sounds she made were like music to Sol’s ears. He pulls out his own fingers and replaces them with his tongue, sucking and lapping up her liquid gold. She tasted so divine. She sounded like an angel to him. Just like how he imagine she would.  

Christine feels his then laps up to her clit once more and suck gently onto the swollen clit. She could feel electricity courses through her body from his administrations. Shivers shooting down her spine. She gazes at him, watching him with her half-lidded lazy eyes. He could hear her pants for air. His pierced lips brush away from her clit and onto her thigh. She could feel the coolness of the small metal. Teeth gazing over the flesh, he bites down softly and sucks forming a soon to be small bruise on her thigh.  

“This is how I will make you feel every night.” Sol pulls back and gazes at his mark in admiration. “That’s what you will get for being mine.” He pushes her legs up until her knees meet her chest and parts her legs with his large hands. Christine moans as she felt him rub himself over her clits and wet folds, teasing her. She makes a rasped out a desperate moan, “Please... Don’t tease me...” begged Christine. Her eyes pleading him. Her face flushed red, and her eyes barely opened. 

Sol chuckles softly and slowly pushes himself in, inch by inch. He could feel her slick and wet pussy envelop him, wrapping around his thick member. Christine moans softly as she involuntarily contracts her walls around him, pulling him in deeper.  

“S-shit... you’re so tight...” Sol growls lowly as his cock is swallowed by her warmth.  Unable to contain his desire, he quickly pulls back until his tip only remained and drives his thick member deep inside of her wet folds with one forceful thrust. The brunette cries out in bliss as he filled her completely.  His hips begin to move rhythmically, thrusting himself into her tight walls again and again, fucking her hard and making her scream in pleasure. “And you’re all mine. Mine to take. Mine to fuck.” 

“Yes.. Yes! I’m yours... Only yours! Please don’t stop! Harder. Sol.... Harder!” Christine moans out loudly as he obeys her command and buries himself into her in an unrelenting tempo. His name leaves her lips repeatedly like a prayer, making his heart swell with emotion. She gazes up at his face and her heart flusters at such a delectable sight. His face was contorted in pleasure. Sweat drips down from his brow. Some of the ends of his green hair wet from sweat, sticking against his cheek. A blush was formed on his face. His mouth a gape as he pants. His eyes sadly shut. She wanted to see those beautiful, lust filled red-orange eyes of his. 

Her hand shot up and placed on his cheek, stroking it. He snaps his eyes open at the sudden touch, recalling that he did cuff her. Apparently, she quietly uncuffed herself earlier. “Keep your eyes open Sol... Let me see those beautiful eyes of yours. I want you to remember how I look while you fuck me...” She purrs. 

Her words cause a surge a desire to run through his veins as it adds more fuel to need to please her. Sol places on of his large hands on her shoulder and one on waist. HE holds her in place as he slams into her wet folds in pure reckless abandonment, giving into his primal instincts. Christine's eyes rolls to the back of her head and cries out his name. Her hand slips off his cheek and onto his shoulder, digging her nails in. The sounds of skin colliding, along with lust filled noises from the couple could be heard throughout the room.  

“I’m cumming!” Christine moans out, her walls tighten hard around him earning a low growl from Sol. Her cunt gripped him like a vise and then she squirts all over his member and his groin.   

“Fuck!” Sol chokes out as his pace becomes brutally fast as he chases after his own orgasm. The scent from her sticky fluids overwhelmed his senses. Her tight walls tighten around his thick cock, driving him to the edge. He thrusts into her once more until he unleashes a torrent of his seed into the warm, wet pussy and sending himself in a lust filled Eupora.  “I love you Christine! You’re mine... All mine!” 

They both gasp and pants to catch their own breath, trying to normal their breathing. Sol then buries his face into her neck, nuzzling her. “Mine...” He breaths. 

“Yours... just like you’re mine...” Christine whispers in his ear as she runs her fingers in his green hair.  

~Later~ 

Christine runs her fingers through her wet hair, applying her hair product into her hair in front of the bathroom mirror. Her black towel wrapped securely around her torso. Sol was still taking a shower. At first he didn’t want to take a shower, stating that he wanted her dried fluids to remain on him which earned a look from Christine. He eventually relented and agreed to a shower. Christine went first and once she was done, Sol have already put on new bed sheets after removing the ones that were stained with their fluids. She felt so embarrassed but Sol reassured her that he just simply wanted to take care of her. 

The sound of water being cut off could be heard, indicating that Sol was done taking a shower. He steps out and dries himself off with one of Christine’s extra towels. He steps in in view of the mirror and dries his green hair. Christine’s brown caramel eyes traced his naked form in the reflecting surface. His body was slim but toned. His tight muscle flexing in his arms. She also notices a good number of old bruises that have faded to yellow.  

“Enjoying the view, pumpkin?” Sol said playful, shooting a smirk at the mirror as he dries the side of his head. Christine blushes and drops her gaze. She grabs her perfume to spray on her wrist, as he chuckles behind her. As she rubs fragrance on her wrist and neck, Sol wraps his arms around her from behind and bends down slightly to rest his on her shoulder to nuzzle her neck. She could feel his bare chest on her back, his hot breath on her neck. 

“Hmm...” He inhales her scent, rubbing her nose against her tender flesh. “No wonder why you always smelled so good...” 

Christine could feel him getting semi-hard and she elbows him gently. “Behave yourself. Sol.”  

A low chuckle emits from his throat, and he kisses her temple. “For now... But I’m pretty sure you’re hungry. What does my soulmate wanna eat?” 

“Soulmate, huh?” Christine giggling and turns around to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him close, “Surprise me. I always enjoy your cooking. Just don’t spike my orange juice again...” 

Sol laughs and picks her up to kiss her lips. He knows that she’s not going to let him hear the end of it. 

[insilanar]

Any lestappen fic rec to share ? 😣 Any favourite author on ao3! I need some!

Hi anon 😘 Of course! In fact I've actually been working on a personal fic rec, so I'm glad I get to share it with you!

Here you go, hope you enjoy <3

Lestappen fic rec

Short-ish fics 🩵

control systems a College AU by @itsgoingdutchin2021 | 1.2 k

Summary:

Due to an unfortunate encounter in their freshman year, both Charles and Max hate each other. Then they are assigned a group project.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

your hands are cold a High School AU by dhufflebee | 3.9 k

Summary:

“I feel like this event should really be called ‘Frosty Fusion’ or something like that.”“That is, of course, incredibly stupid.”“Hey!”“It doesn’t mean that ‘Snowmen Competition’ isn’t the most boring name ever, though.”OR: long-time friends and rivals Charles and Max hail from neighboring schools, and brave the biting cold, the challenges of snow sculpture, and their own buried feelings

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Kiss It Goodbye (Your Little Panic Attack) F1 Fic by @celientjeee | 5.1 k

Summary:

‘What- How did you do that?’ Charles asked, he still felt a bit shaken and hot, but the tingling had disappeared.Max smiled at him and let his hands drop away from Charles’ cheeks.‘I once read that holding your breath could stop a panic attack and when I kissed you, you held your breath.’‘I did?’ Charles winced at how high his voice sounded. OR: Charles gets a panic attack and Max helps him (more than once)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics between 10 k and 20 k 🧡

Cheating at Bingo and Other Christmas Traditions a Cozy Winter AU by @wanderingblindly | 12.4 k

Summary:

"You know, there’s a very nice, very handsome young man in my neighborhood –” She starts back up, flagging down their waiter for another glass of wine.“Absolutely not,” He cuts her off with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Next topic.”“So you’re too good for him, is that it?” She sounds defensive, but her tone still has a mocking edge to it – emphasized by the quirk of her brows.Hardly holding back a groan, Charles tries to think of a way out of this. She’s like a cat, batting at him until he gives up, rolls over, and plays dead. “That’s not – I’m just busy, and it’s –” OR: Hallmark style fluff featuring an irritated Charles, a well-meaning Max, and the grandma that just wants them to kiss

Rating: General Audiences

<3

Golden Hour a Uni AU by Chariots4 | 13.2 k

Summary:

Max is a great roommate. So great that when Lando asks him to be part of a music video he’s filming he does so, without asking what it will be about.Turns out he will have to model with no other than Charles Leclerc. As lovers. The two men’s desire to not be outdone by the other takes the whole thing to new levels.

Rating: Explicit

-> This is also a personal favorite of mine since it was my first ever Formula 1 RPF fic and honestly, it's written amazingly well!👌

<3

oui chef a Chef AU by @sunshineyoujustwait | 16.2 k

Summary:

There’s someone standing in his kitchen.He looks young, maybe close to Max’s age, with messy dark brown hair that’s pulled back from his face by a red bandana, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s supposed to be here.Max’s first rather unhelpful thought is; fuck, he’s gorgeous. His second, more reasonable thought is;“Who the fuck are you?”“Charles Leclerc,” the man smiles. It's a little bit dazzling and Max is not at all distracted by it. He extends his hand for Max to shake. “I’m your new executive sous chef.” OR: Max is very happy with his life, thank you very much. He has his restaurant, his team, and two Michelin stars at the age of 24. He definitely does not need some pretentious Monegasque chef coming in and throwing everything into chaos.Except, maybe he does.

Rating: General Audiences

<3

you got me a College AU by @fueledbyremembering | 16.6 k

Summary:

When Max looks up he stares into pretty green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. His hand is still blindly feeling around to find the books—his brain lagging—as he stares at the guy from last night. He straightens up and Max follows, staring dumbly as he holds out the books for Max to take.“Thanks,” Max says, feeling like an idiot as he takes the books, their fingers brushing for a split second. This was not how he wanted to meet again. “Again, I’m so sorry.”The guy smiles and Max thinks he might just die a little when he notices he has dimples. Of course he has dimples. OR: Max falls head over heels for the cute guy at a college party and he can't stop thinking about him (aka the lestappen college au nobody needs).

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics above 30 k ❤

Late night devil put your hands on me a Thief/Detective AU by @f1-giuki | 42.1 k

Summary:

"Do you want to know what is more incredible?" Max asks, staring at Charles' full and round pecs without any shame. "What?" Charles asks, enjoying how Max's cheeks get redder and redder as he licks clean the fork. "Stealing the Nine Pieces of Eight, with me," Max says and Charles drops his fork in the plate. "The Nine pieces of eight? Isn't that like a legend? The owner of those artworks is unknown…" The Monegasque asks, furrowing his brows. Max grins and rolls his eyes. "I know a guy..." Max says, pulling Charles close by the elastic band of his boxers. OR: World-class thief Max Verstappen asks Interpol Detective Charles Leclerc out on a date (to put on the world's most complicated heist ever conceived) but things never go as planned.

Rating: Mature

<3

To Your Heart’s Content a Mafia AU by @cornerofacry | 119.4 k

Summary:

Max pinched the bridge of his nose as he went into the car. Before his chauffeur could close the door, however, Daniel leant in, having rushed from the bar’s entrance."I forgot to tell you…" the Australian begun, his face serious and grave.Max gritted his teeth, silently nodding for the man to continue. He couldn’t stand much more. He wanted to scream at the entire world. To run home and hide and force some sense down his own throat.To put himself back together."I left a- a gift at your house. For your birthday… I planned it long ago, before-""Alright," Max cut him, short and harsh. OR: Charles, a high end prostitute, finds himself in the arms of a man who really, really, cares for him, despite the gun on his nightstand.

Rating: Explicit

<3

Favorite lestappen authors 💕

NovaCloud, Richardmarie75, WanderingBlindly, xxcelientje, amarynas, charlescoded, LestappenForever, linearity

Note to the authors: If your fic is on here and you would like me to take it down I will. Feel free to just dm me about it or drop and ask 😌

And anon I hope you find something you like on this list!

[arc852]

2. Studying

Definition: application of the mind to the acquisition of knowledge, such as by reading, investigation, or reflection

Summary: Grian is having trouble studying so Joel suggests Grian have Jimmy around to help him out.

G/t: Grian and Joel are humans, Jimmy is a borrower

Word Count: 862

AO3 Link

I know I didn't have to put the definition of studying there but I'm sticking to the theme I've set out for myself so there it goes.

Okay, so, this fic inspired so many other fics that you all will see within the next month. But this AU has taken over my brain and I love it a lot.

Basically, this is an AU where Grian and Joel are college student who live together in a dorm. Jimmy is a borrower who lives within the walls of said college dorm who was discovered by Grian and Joel and they are now all friends.

It's not an AU with a big plot but more filled with slice of life type stories. I've taken to calling it the Bad Boys Borrower College AU. If anyone has a better name please let me know, I'm terrible at naming my AUs.

Also, this was the first fic I wrote for these sets of prompts, so it's got a special place in my heart cause of that as well.

I hope you guys enjoy because there are at least 7 more stories in this AU over the next month!

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

 Grian groaned from where he was laying down on his bed and let his head fall onto the laptop’s keyboard. Joel looked up from his own bed in their shared dorm, looking over at Grian to see what the problem was. “Studying going that badly, is it?” Joel couldn’t help but chuckle. Grian lifted his head to glare at him and Joel couldn’t help but laugh harder.

 Jimmy looked away from the movie him and Joel were watching, looking over toward Grian as well. The borrower was currently sitting on Joel’s shoulder, as he had found that was one of the best spots for him to actually see the movie. “What class is it for?” Jimmy asked curiously.

 “Biology.” Grian answered, though it was muffled since he planted his face right back down on his keyboard. 

 “Ah, that’s…” Jimmy trailed off when he realized he wasn’t actually sure what that was. It sounded familiar, of course, but he couldn’t even begin to explain the concept. Joel seemed to notice but thankfully didn’t tease Jimmy about it. Instead, he turned the teasing back on Grian.

 “That’s your own fault for choosing to be a bloody biology major.” Joel quipped, only to yelp when Grian threw a pillow over toward him. Jimmy also let out a little noise of surprise as he was suddenly surrounded by a hand. It didn’t grab him though, just held him in place so he didn’t fall off as the pillow hit Joel in the face. “Hey, watch it! I’ve got Jimmy on my shoulder!”

 At that, Grian looked up again. “Whoops, sorry Tim.” He didn’t sound very sorry. As soon as the words left his mouth, a pillow hit him in the face. “Hey!”

 Joel chuckled. “You deserved that and you know it.”

 Jimmy, still surrounded by Joel’s hand, suddenly felt the grip solidify around him. Now he was being grabbed. The hand lifted him off the shoulder and he was held within Joel’s fist as Joel got off his bed and went to stand next to Grian’s. “Here.” Joel finally opened his hand and Jimmy tumbled out and onto the cushy surface of Grian’s bed.

 “Why are you giving him to me? I thought the two of you were watching a movie together?” Despite his words, Grian’s hand came up behind Jimmy and moved him closer to himself. It took Jimmy a second to gain his balance back after that but he was used to just being moved around like this.

 “Yeah, what about our movie?” Jimmy said with a slight pout. He had been enjoying not only the movie but his time with Joel.

 “We can watch it later, Jim. I think Grian needs you more right now.” Joel answered him and then looked back toward Grian. “Meaning, Jimmy is great to have around while studying.”

 Grian looked confused. “He is?”

 Jimmy also looked confused. “I am?”

 “Uh yeah. Why do you think I always have Jimmy with me when I’m studying? Just try it and you’ll see what I mean.” Joel said, leaving both Grian and Jimmy even more confused. Joel then grabbed his wallet and keys and headed toward the door. “I’m gonna grab us something to eat, I’ll be back.” And then, he was gone.

 “Still don’t understand what he means.” Grian mumbled, but his hand was already finding Jimmy again. He was once again surrounded but not picked up.

 Jimmy looked over Grian’s hand toward his laptop, seeing a bunch of words, all of which made Jimmy’s head spin a little. “So, ah, what’s wrong?”

 Grian hummed and moved his hand away from his head to scroll up a bit. “It’s just so hard to focus.” Grian said and then his tone became more frustrated. “I mean, do you see this big wall of text!?”

 “Yeah, that doesn’t look fun.” Jimmy had no problem reading but even he didn’t understand most of the words currently up on Grian’s laptop. Jimmy looked away from the screen and back toward Grian, who’s eyes were darting back and forth, trying to read what was on the screen once again.

 As Jimmy noticed this, he felt something move to the top of his head and quickly realized it was one of Grian’s fingers. And with how Jimmy was nestled in his palm, he figured it was Grian’s thumb now petting the top of his head. Jimmy sighed. Unfortunately, this was also another common occurrence between both Grian and Joel. They were both very touchy when it came to him.

 Not that Jimmy minded too much.

 Jimmy let it go on for a bit, but when Grian didn’t say anything Jimmy decided to break the silence. “Uh, Grian?”

 “Shh!” Grian shushed him and didn’t stop his movements. “I think I just realized what Joel meant.”

 “What? What did he mean?” Jimmy asked. Grian gave no answer, which made Jimmy pout. And a few minutes later, when still nothing happened and no explanation was given, he finally settled down and gave in to the fact he would be here, being pet, at least until Joel came back with the food.

 Maybe then Joel would explain what he meant.

[eliaskew]

Found a post on Reddit talking about possible Marauders AU's and thought I'd throw my own hat into the ring so, here are some, specifically british shows/movies I think could be adapted into brilliant fics and AU's.

The History Boys-

A group of Sixth Formers from a poor area in Yorkshire achieve the highest grades in their A Levels that the school has ever seen. Consequently, the principal makes them stay an extra term so that they can prepare to get into Oxford and Cambridge universities (the most prestigious universities in the UK).

There's a wide variety of characters, including an eccentric "general studies" teacher who takes the boys on "special" motorbike rides and feels them up at stops, a young history teacher brought in to get them ready for Oxford, despite being a fraud, and the boys themselves who are all colourful and weird in their own ways.

The story has tragedy, heartbreak, exam stress, lots of very British banter and an excellent commentary on Queerness and Queen relationships. It's the British answer to the Dead Poets Society and has adaptations on the BBC.

The Full Monty-

Another British film, once again set in Yorkshire (both around the canon time period too). After the Thatcher administration, hundreds of miners in Yorkshire lose their jobs, as do many factory workers.

This film follows a dad attempting to raise money so he can fight his ex-wife in court for joint custody of their son, his best mate who feels insecure about his weight, a depressed young queer man looking after his mother and a few others besides as they try and fail to look for jobs now their steel factory is bust.

They see hoards of women watching male strip shows and decide to give that a try as a way to raise money. Hijinks ensue including stripping, intimidation of repo men, running naked from the police, terrible dancing, hilarious auditions for the troupe and more.

It's a commentary on class, desperation and male friendships which remain wholesome throughout. There is also a queer relationship between two characters which while not particularly explored in the film could be explored in an au.

The Importance of Being Ernest-

Oscar Wilde's most famous comedy where two upper class gentleman pull a long con on the people around them by each pretending to be a fictional "Ernest". Of course, the core of this revolves around the women they're interested in:

Jack Worthing invents a brother named "Ernest" for the people of his country home, while his friend Algernon Montcrieff creates an invalid friend called Bunbury. Both characters invented by these men as reasons to skive off their duties and pursue romantic encounters.

Jack is interested in Algernon's cousin, who has a fascination with men called Ernest and Algernon hears about Jack's ward and, seeing her as a way to raise himself out of debt, pretends to be Jack's non-existent brother "Ernest" to get in with her.

It's a comedy of errors entirely befitting of the Marauders era with a lot of British tongue-in-cheek humour, romantic moments and convoluted deception.

Derry Girls-

A more modern entry than most of the others on my list. Set in an all girls school (minus James the wee English fella) in Ireland it follows a group of girls and James as they go through the trials and tribulations of living in Ireland during the Troubles, school life, religious guilt and sexuality. Again, it's incredibly funny, heartbreaking in moments and highly relatable. Definitely a good choice for an AU, especially if one wanted to focus more on the friendship side than the relationship side of the Marauders fandom.

Sex Education-

Fairly self explanatory, a group for British pupils at a Sixth Form College discovering their sexualities, learning about sex in a way that wasn't taught at school. Very queer, very funny at points with moments of family troubles, harder topics and exam stress. Modern day as opposed to Derry Girls which is set in the 90's so more wiggle room if you're someone who prefers modern au's. Large and diverse cast with individual stories and character growth so another one that's perfect for including the entire Marauders Ensemble.

Good Omens-

An Angel and a Demon are both sent to earth, one to bring miracles, the other to tempt people to sin. Along the way they get to know and care about each other, forming a pact where they will occasionally help each other out on jobs since they're effectively cancelling out each other's usefulness.

6000 years later and the Antichrist is born, Crowley (the demon) has the idea for them both to raise the boy together so that he neither turns out good OR evil, which Aziraphale (the angel) agrees to. However, due to an entirely human mix-up at the Antichrist's birth, they end up raising the wrong boy.

And the Actual Antichrist begins the end of the world. Crowley and Aziraphale have to work together to find him, and stop it, despite the risk of their respective sides catching wind and punishing them.

This is essentially a very British 6000 year long slow-burn between two male presenting entities and would be ideal for an enemies to lovers situation.

The Holiday-

In fairness, I think I have seen someone do an AU of this film but I can't remember the name of the fic so I'm going to put this forward anyway.

A british Publisher finds out that the man she's in love with is marrying someone else after leading her on and becomes incredibly depressed by this. At the same time, in America, a producer has caught her long-term boyfriend cheating on her and though she is devastated by this, she cannot cry. Instead of both of them wallowing in there maudlin, they decide to go on holiday and end up swapping houses for a while.

There are cultural differences each must overcome including the british lady's drunke, widower brother stumbling into her house while she isn't there and entering a relationship with the American, and the British lady encountering an American composer whom she quickly falls for despite him being in a relationship already.

Very sweet, very touching with explorations of romance, self and belonging. Another wide cast of characters but more focused on the romantic aspect of the four leads.

BBC Ghosts-

Specifically the British version of this, because while the American version is brilliant, this is focusing on British media.

Allison and Mike are a married couple who are struggling with their finances. When a distant relative of Allison's dies they're gifted her Manor house in rural England with plans to turn it into a BnB and earn some money. The ghosts inhabiting the house, varying from a Tory Politician who died in a sex scandal, to a woman burned as a witch and a caveman who died on the grounds- aren't very happy about this and do their best to scare them away.

An accident leaves Allison dead for a few minutes before modern technology is able to bring her back and from that moment onward she is able to see and speak to the ghosts.

Various hijinks ensue where the ghosts and Allison must learn to get along despite the issues with the house, the failing BnB business and Button House being put on the map through various historical discoveries.

This would be another great one for an Ensemble feel, historical discoveries and shenanigans around the different ways each character was raised (and subsequently died.) Incredibly funny, very British humour and very on brand for the Marauders.

And finally: Twelfth Night (or really, any Shakespeare, Twelfth Night just happens to be my favourite and I'm incredibly biased)-

Another comedy of Errors. Sebastian and Viola, twins from Medici (if I remember correctly) are caught in a storm and shipwrecked, both believing the other is dead. Viola washes up on Illyria having been saved by a local captain and decides her best bet at survival is to put on Sebastian's clothes and pretend to be a man so she can seek employment under Duke Orsino.

Duke Orsino is head over heels for Countess Olivia, whom is mourning her family and also hates the Duke. Viola, as Cesario her male disguise, falls for Orsino, Orsino sends them to court Olivia in his wake, Olivia falls for Viola/Cesario and then Sebastian washes up with his pirate "friend" and all hell breaks loose and no-one is able to tell one from the other.

Theres a side plot involving the members of Olivia's household sending a man insane because he's a dick which is just as funny as the rest of it.

Very funny, lots of deception and a brilliant exploration of relationships, self-discovery, identities and queerness. It's not a stretch to see Viola/Cesario as trans, Orsino and Olivia as queer and Antonio (Sebastian's pirate "friend") as gayer than a bottle of crisps.

Plus, I think there should be more Shakespeare Au's and this one, while the plot is complicated, fits the Marauders characters brilliantly well.

[gisellecnz]

Hello everyone, I just want to confess something... I just felt like I did the most worst crime ever. (I'm sorry if how I'm writing this whole thing looks immature? and also on how I've been using wrong words to use. 😭) And it is something I want to start avoiding from now on.

As you can see, I am a minor. Yes a minor, probably way younger than you think... 😭 (but not too young though. I just don't want to tell my actual age.) (And also please continue reading before you do anything)

Ever since pandemic, its where people have been quarantined inside their homes for like, 2-3 years, right? And because of that most people do then was just be on their phones all the time.

I also did that–and now I've been exposed and influenced to a lot of things especially on social media. (I had unrestricted internet access ever since I was a kid)

I currently think about it a lot of times now, and it's actually so bad about how I got exposed by a bunch of things...even though I was so young. (like dirty jokes, etc.) And I think I have grown up way too fast... You can see it in how I typed in my other posts, and it's now how I naturally type. 😭

(Okay, I don't know how to explain this part well... Generally, I'm very bad at explaining. But I hope you guys somehow understand 😭. ) (Please ask me questions if there are things you don't quite understand, I don't really elaborate well when it comes to these stuff)

That was also the time i grew an obsession over anime. And I also had crushes on anime characters to the point I figured out people wrote fics about them. Like, "[character name] x reader" and then boom I figured about smut.. Pls 😭 I really didn't care about the "mdni" warning back then. (I don't know if I'm using this term right, but it's something like I got hypersexual? I'm sorry, but I think it's just something similar to that.)

And now I've become a writer as my hobby, I downloaded tumblr almost a year ago so that I could post my works and also read others fics.

And ever since yesterday i had realized something 😭. And I am so sorry about my behavior on this. Even though I'm not in the right age yet, I still readed smut. And smut is like.. Considered porn right? And most of the authors I follow, or people ive talked to in tumblr are like around 19+. Others are even in college and have their own jobs too. And one of my favorite authors is like 12 years older than me. And some authors I follow also write smut. I also ignored mdni parts in their works. 😭

So this is basically what happened (because I am very bad at explaining so I just put it like in a story way):

I am a minor who reads smut, which are only intended for adults. I knew it wasn't appropriate for me but I just brushed it off.

And then one day when I realized I was talking to older people, something clicked in my mind 😭. They are ADULTS. They are in the appropriate age to read smut. (I mean, of course, but I just brushed it off back then.) Then they had "mdni" in their bio. So, that realization made me uncomfy 😭. It's like I made a really huge crime. And I've also become an author on this app, I can't just go on without telling the truth. From now on I'll try to avoid reading smut. Guys it's basically like you're an toddler who suddenly gained consciousness

Again, I am very very sorry for just brushing off the mdni back then 😭. But I'll still continue to read the sfw ones only.

To the other authors there who write sfw and nsfw, please I promise you that I will only read the safe ones now and not the nsfw anymore. 😔 

But it is definitely okay if you want to block me. Thank you for reading this whole explanation! I've learn my lesson now 😭

I just readed this whole thing again and I realized how messy it looked... But either way I can't change it because its the most best way I explained this 😔

[cupidjyu]

my nerdy love

eric x reader (requested by anon! sorry i cannot reply to your message directly bc i feel like that would spoil the whole fic LOL but tysm for your kind words ^^)

genre: loser eric, college!au, eric is such a nervous wreck, he's also always angry, jealous eric, villain hyunjae (not really) notes: i love these kind of stories like they're so funny LOL i hope you guys enjoyed! i enjoy writing losers more than i do flirts... song rec!

word count: 2.5k

Act 1

in the back of a large lecture hall, sat two best friends, both born in the same year. they were not paying attention to the professor whatsoever.

sunwoo poked the other’s shoulder, “yo… are you good?”

the other boy, named eric, was currently fuming, looking off into the distance where you were now sitting. there was another man who had recently plopped down next to you. eric watched as he took your pencil, twirling it around as you whined at his teasing. eric then glared with heated jealousy as you leaned over the man to try to reach it.

sunwoo asked again, “are you-”

“no,” eric yelled, making some people turn their heads and frown. eric apologized silently as he lowered his voice. “no, i’m not good. that guy is just so-” he groaned. “annoying.”

“if you like y/n that much, just go up to them or else he’ll steal your sweetheart,” sunwoo casually replied.

“i can’t just-”

“yes you can,” sunwoo refuted. “you guys are literally working on a final project together. aren’t you comfortable with them already?”

eric did not reply, only looking at sunwoo sheepishly.

“don’t tell me,” sunwoo groaned. “were you a nervous wreck?”

eric recalled that time when you were assigned to be his partner. he kept stuttering over his words and even dropped coffee all over your bag which he had to spend his whole paycheck to pay for it. even though you insisted it was fine.

“look man,” eric tried to defend himself. “you have to see what y/n looks like up close. like an angel, i swear.”

“still,” the older glared. “try not to be a coward for once.”

eric sighed, looking back to where the man was now playing with your hair. and out of nowhere, he glanced back to where eric was sitting. he looked him right in the eye and much to his anger, the man winked. eric slammed his laptop closed and took his belongings, leaving the room.

-

now, you and eric were working at one of the popular study spots, trying to finish planning out the final page of the project. eric was so, so giddy to see you and get some alone time. he even dressed up (which sunwoo teased him for).

“wait so-” he started to ask a question. “what about if…?” he trailed off because you were now leaning into his side to look at his computer. he blushed, looking away.

“what were you saying?” you looked at him expectantly.

“uh-” he faltered. “i… um- i wanted to ask if-”

“y/n!”

you turned around at the familiar voice. eric glanced in that direction too and of course, it was him again. eric looked him over, his eyes narrowing. he was tall, possibly (definitely) taller than eric, which severely hurt his ego. he was also insanely handsome, which eric despised. the younger puffed his chest out to try to look stronger but it was of no use, as the boy dragged a chair over to sit next to you, his muscles showing even through his oversized shirt.

“what are you doing here?” you smiled. you smiled! eric’s heart plummeted, envy quickly taking over every inch of his heart. i could make you smile like that too.

“just stopped by,” the man grinned, with his horribly attractive smile. “i’m exhausted from that exam.” as he talked on and on, he looked at eric with an amused glint in his eye as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. smoke was practically coming out of his ears at this point as you laughed, shoving the man away.

oh, eric was about to explode.

“ah!” you gestured to him. “this is eric, by the way.”

the man looked at eric knowingly, a sly smile appearing on his lips. “so that’s your name…”

“what?” eric asked, with a hostile voice.

“nothing, nothing,” the man was definitely amused as he got up. “i have to go, bye y/n! and don’t miss me too much!”

oh, how eric hated him.

-

later on, eric confronted that same man.

“hey,” eric gripped his shoulder, turning him around. “what’s your problem?”

the man feigned innocence, “what’d i do?”

“you know i like y/n, don’t you?” eric asked, his hand forming fists. “you know and you’re always hanging around. you even look at me while you’re being all touchy. don’t! don’t try to act slick… uh…” he paused, his mind going blank.

the other simply smirked, tilting his head, “you don’t even know my name don’t you?”

eric was about to reply but the man beat him to it.

“hyunjae,” he interrupted. and then he turned around, waving goodbye with a flick of his hand. as he walked, he glanced back at eric with a cunning smile. “and i have no idea what you’re talking about. have a nice day!”

eric loathed him.

Act 2

much to eric’s surprise though, hyunjae had disappeared for a while. were his prayers and wishes with shooting stars finally answered? would hyunjae finally vanish and stop disturbing his soon-to-be love story? it seemed like that for a while.

it was finally eric’s chance to get closer to you, with sunwoo’s constant urging. and so, he came up to you one day after the lecture.

“hey, y/n,” he gave you a nervous quirk of a smile. you looked up and smiled brightly. his heart stuttered almost immediately and so did his breath as he quickly tried to compose himself. he frantically played with the strings of his hoodie. sunwoo snickered in the background.

“hi, eric,” you softly greeted, tilting your head. eric felt like he could faint on the floor at that moment.

“do you-” he suddenly jabbed his finger at your textbook, making you jump. “want to study the next chapter to- together?”

your eyes widened and you felt excitement through your veins.

“oh!” you stood up, eagerly as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “sure!” you grinned. “let’s go to the library now then if you’re free.”

“really?” he looked at you hopefully. and then he trailed after you out of the room almost like a lost puppy.

sunwoo shook his head, “he’s got it so bad…”

-

eric wiped his sweaty palms on the fabric of his pants as he glanced at you. you looked incredibly focused while you read the chapter and took notes on it. 

eric on the other hand… he wasn’t doing quite well. he was so caught up in staring at your beauty. his eyes would constantly wander over your features, even wondering how your lips would feel against his. he quickly shook out of it.

you looked at him, puzzled. and then out of nowhere, eric felt your hand be pressed to his forehead. 

“are you feeling okay?” you looked worried. “you’ve been out of it for a while…”

his face was completely red now as he backed away. he thought that would be the end of it but much to his embarrassment, his chair had gotten caught on the carpet and he quite literally fell backward.

you yelped, immediately getting up to help him. eric was mortified as he considered just curling up into a ball in the middle of the library. nonetheless, he stood up with a pink face.

“are you hurt?” you asked, looking him over.

“no, no,” he laughed, painfully. “i’m fine.”

you looked at him skeptically. “maybe we need a break…” you pondered. you looped your arm around eric’s making him sputter. “i know, let’s go to the cafe near here?”

-

so it was a cafe date now. you were drinking your order as you stared at eric who could not seem to look you in the eye. his pupils darted everywhere, his eyes wide and round. he bit his lip nervously as he fidgeted with his bag.

“you’re like bolt,” you observed.

“huh?” he finally looked you in the eye. he wondered how beautiful someone could be just by sitting at a cafe seat near the window.

“bolt,” you repeated. “the puppy from the movie?”

eric practically choked. “you think i’m like a puppy?”

“yeah!” you laughed. he couldn’t help but smile back at your cute expression. “you always look so curious. it’s cute… like a puppy.” there was a beat of silence before you slapped your hand over your mouth, in disbelief that you had just called the arguably cute boy… cute. out loud.

he stared at you, mouth open as he gradually blushed more and more.

“thank you,” was all he could say, completely calm.

he went home and giggled about it to himself at 3 am that same day.

-

the study dates and cafe dates slowly branched out into other ways to hang out. but eric liked to call them dates. he’s delusional like that. one time, he took you to the movies where he attempted to do the “yawn and put his arm over their body subtly” thing. he failed miserably. apparently, he has bad aim.

“eric?” you looked at him confused as you munched on the popcorn.

he jolted, “h-huh?”

“you just poked my ear.”

“oh! did i? haha,” he fake laughed as he took his arm back. god, sunwoo was so going to bully him about this.

another time, he took you to the mall. you were browsing various bags when your eyes lingered on a specific one. he noticed and was about to buy it for you like the gentleman he was. except he forgot that he was a college student in debt.

“do you like this one?” he smiled sweetly. “i can buy it for you!”

“ah,” you shook your head sheepishly since you had already seen how much it cost. “y-you really don’t have to…”

eric was stubborn. “i insist!” he looked at the price tag attached to it. his eyes enlarged at the cost. it was so expensive. the number of zeroes in the number made him revolt as he hurriedly put the bag back on the shelf. “on second thought…” and he quickly walked away as he mentally slapped himself in the face.

you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

Act 3

hyunjae came back.

eric clearly remembered gasping when he witnessed hyunjae open the door to the lecture hall. he even looked at the poor young boy and winked cheekily. eric swore he saw red.

and of course, hyunjae would bound straight over to you, swinging an arm over your shoulder to pull you into a tight side hug.

“you good?” sunwoo nudged him.

eric could only glare, the paper in his hand now turning into a crumpled ball under his fist. 

“i literally hate him.”

unlike last time though, eric did not stray far anymore. instead, he clung to you. he refused to leave your side in fear that hyunjae would come and snatch you away from the only love of his life. as soon as class ended, he immediately was by your side. again, like a puppy.

“hi, eric!” you gave him a hug. he froze, looking down at the top of your head as he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist.

“oh,” he breathed out, surprised. “this… this is nice.”

“mhm,” you hummed. “i think so too.” you nuzzled closer.

(sunwoo wondered to himself, “aren’t they already dating at this point…”)

-

one day, the two of you were taking a peaceful walk, talking about how horrible your exams went and how badly eric craved instant ramen at that moment. that was when hyunjae suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

“y/n!” he ruffled your hair. eric grumbled, rolling his eyes. what a way to ruin his day. “did you do something to your hair?” hyunjae asked, smiling sweetly (obnoxiously, in eric’s opinion). “it looks nice.”

eric mumbled to himself, “i noticed first…”

when you confirmed hyunjae’s observation and finally shooed him away to his next class, you turned and noticed eric glaring daggers at hyunjae’s back.

you poked him. he looked at you, his eyes softening. “everything okay?” you asked.

he paused and gazed at you with an unreadable expression.

“are you aware that he’s been hitting on you all this time?”

you froze, your heart had stopped beating. “eric-”

“it’s seriously getting annoying,” he groaned. “every time we spend time together, he’s always there, ruining the moment. with his stupidly handsome face, his long legs, his perfect hair, his fit body, his-” eric paused. “whatever! you get the point. still, don’t you think that it’s a bit low of him? like does he not get the hint? shouldn’t he back off since i-”

and eric really should have stopped before he would blurt out something stupid. but eric was never good at stopping himself.

“since i like you.”

you stared for a while. he looked at you, his mouth shut closed as a blush began to creep up his neck at the realization that he had just confessed. and then you burst out laughing.

“i-” he stuttered. “i didn’t mean to confess i-”

you kept on laughing. eric continued to try to defend himself.

he scrambled for words, “it’s just that you are so my type. you’re so beautiful and kind and i can’t help but-”

and you leaned up, cupping his face in your hands, and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. he gasped, looking at you with wide eyes. and then they darkened, looking straight at your lips. he quickly wrapped a hand around your waist, making you yelp as he pulled you right against his body. his lips were back on yours, deepening the kiss with such tenderness that you couldn’t help but melt in his arms.

you pulled away after a while, trying to catch your breath.

“hyunjae is my older brother.”

…

and it’s like the whole world came crashing down on him.

“what?” he squawked.

“he’s my brother!” you laughed. “he disappeared earlier because he had to go and do a study for the major he’s in. eric…” you poked his cheek. “he’s just very affectionate. no need to be jealous. oh, and by the way,” you leaned up, whispering in his ear. “i like you too.”

eric practically almost fainted.

“you like me?” he exclaimed as if you hadn’t just initiated the first kiss. “and wait-” he gasped loudly. “was he doing all that on- on purpose? are you serious? he knew?” he put his face in the palm of his hands with mortification. “i hate that guy so much. and you- you like me?”

you giggled and pulled him into a kiss, interrupting his little crisis.

he quickly forgot about it when he felt your lips against his.

“oh, i could get used to this,” he mumbled, pulling you closer by the waist.

Extra Scene

“why’re you hiding behind a tree?” younghoon remarked, appearing behind hyunjae who seemed to be spying on two people… kissing and giggling.

“oh they’re so cute, those two little lovebirds,” hyunjae snickered. “all thanks to my plan.”

younghoon punched his shoulder, “stop standing there, you dork. you’re going to be late for your first date. enough of playing cupid for one day…”

“never.”