#imagine though. au where everyone is in fact real and is a real and willing participant
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im continuing this actually fuck it
cobs: how the fuck.. how is this even possible
mephone: i stopped creating sentient objects after like a month dude everyone on my show are volunteers
and everyone is happy and NOBODY DIES exceptcobs this is my fix it au
imagine if the twist just didn’t happen like cobs is like “what did your parents say when they heard the news?”
suitcase: “hmm.. i don’t talk to my parents anymore but my aunties were very excited for me!”
knife: “you know, the usual from pop. a grunt or too but you could tell he was happy for me.”
cobs: “wiat what hold on”
#imagine though. au where everyone is in fact real and is a real and willing participant#or in a darker twist was kidnapped and kept on a mysterious island#this also brings into question if 1) he found out his generation was at least partially subconscious very early on#and 2) actively tried Not to generate things similarly to what we see in s3#i guess my question is in this The Contestants are Real AU is how much of the landscape would also be real in that sense#inanimate insanity#inanimate insanity spoilers#ii17 spoilers#ii16 spoilers#also i joke a lot but if i were to Legitimately consider this as an au i dont think it would be this silly#even if he played the whole ‘he made you’ stchick even though theyre very much real#with families n stuff i genuinely think for example knife would go APESHIT saying how DARE you try and imply the life i had wasn’t fucking..#real#anyways!
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Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.
Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!
Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.
Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.
You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).
Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.
I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!
BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.
[MORE UNDER THE CUT]
If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.
I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.
I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.
Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.
I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.
He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.
I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)
What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!
He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.
Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.
Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑🍳
If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.
With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.
Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.
That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.
That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.
He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!
I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.
Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.
And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.
Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.
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I just found you venom!steph stuff and I absolutely love it! Would you be willing to share a bit about this whole idea?
BOY WOULD I. I’ve got a few things I need to wrap up before I can really dig in properly to this AU but I have SO MANY IDEAS.
The basic concept is that it’s a canon divergence at the end of War Games, where Steph nearly dies (as normal) but instead of the whole faking-her-death-and-going-to-Africa-with-Leslie thing she instead acquires a symbiote that bonds to her and heals her and now she’s super strong/fast/tough/agile and can basically shapeshift and they proceed to make it everyone’s problem.
So you’ve got Steph being angry and traumatized by the whole tortured-almost-to-death thing and also dealing with the fact that Tim is right back out as Robin as if nothing happened to her. (Nobody is a reliable narrator in this story, I should mention right up top.) And then I’m still solidifying exactly what I want to do with it, but my current thinking for the symbiote is that it’s also had its own run in with Batman (probably without Bruce really knowing about it or recognizing what it was) and has its own grudge, so you get that great relationship of the two of them bonding and then proceeding to be just the worst influence on each other, specifically with regard to their Bat Hate. Plus Steph knows who all the Bats are and they all think she’s dead. It’s a great time for everyone!
(I’m definitely playing fast and loose with the Marvel canon half of things and mostly just inserting a symbiote into the DC universe, and not necessarily THE Venom symbiote although that’s easier shorthand. But there are also definitely some parallels there between like. The idea of Steph blaming Batman for everything that’s happened and how that’s maybe not entirely unfair but also she definitely did make her own mistakes that led to things vs. Eddie’s whole thing with blaming Peter for ruining his life even though he did, objectively, mess things up his own self Peter is just how he got caught.)
(Also there’s definitely some parallels between Steph and Eddie in terms of the whole “having a shitty dad and being desperate for approval and willing to do some unwise things in trying to get it” thing. Just saying. I think that’s part of the whole “give her a symbiote” thing for me is that she spent so long trying so hard to be good enough and gain the approval of others and falling short and I think having that immediate connection where she doesn’t need to do anything different or be better by some impossible metric, she’s already exactly what the symbiote needs and wants, would be a big factor in her bonding so closely with it.)
So yeah, Steph with a symbiote who knows who all the Bats are while they think she’s dead becomes a real Problem for them, obviously. They’re pretty anti-Bat, between Steph’s recent history and the symbiote’s own experiences, so that’s a fun thing to play with, but then there’s also lots of other complicated relationships because obviously it’s not JUST Batman out there.
I think Tim especially is a messy one and her feelings about him swing pretty wildly depending on the moment. I imagine she probably spends some time needling him about her own death trying to get a reaction out of him, which he probably is trying to not give her because he doesn’t know yet who she is and thinks she’s just a new villain who knows way too much about them, so I’m sure that goes great. (On the other hand, I can definitely see her doing like a surprise coming-to-the-rescue thing, partly because it is still Tim and she doesn’t actually want him dead or seriously injured and partly because it’ll throw him off his game and be funny to psych him out.)
Cass is probably a little more straightforward because their relationship wasn’t quite as messy before she died but I also think there was probably a bit of resentment Before, where Cass excelled without any apparent effort at so many things that mattered to them while Steph struggled to even slightly keep up, which is probably only heightened by everything else that’s happened. On top of that there’s Cass’s extremely inflexible moral code causing problems. I do think Cass is the one who actually realizes who Steph is, because she’s different now and it’s wrong in a kind of uncanny valley way but still recognizable. (This does not immediately fix anything, because Cass still has very firm ideas of what Steph SHOULD be doing or not doing and Steph, at least at first, does not want to hear it.)
My thought is that there is an eventual shift where Steph reconsiders things and decides she doesn’t want to keep doing what she’s doing. (It’s probably helped by the fact that she misses Cass, and sometimes Tim, but that’s only part of it. I think the other part is her realizing she’s a little too like her own father and not wanting to be that anymore.) Which is obviously a long and messy ordeal to reach any level of reconciliation after everything.
(I confess I haven’t decided how the whole “Jason’s Red Hood Rampage” plot point fits into this AU. XD Eventually I’ll sit down and decide if/how I want any intersection there but. We’ll see. I feel like Steph would have absolutely negative patience for any of Jason’s bullshit given her own experience, honestly.)
The really fun part of this (well, one of them, but the one I’ve already written a couple times because it’s obviously the part my brain really latched onto) is the idea of Steph in this universe after Bruce’s death, because she definitely has some feelings about that, but also her relationship with Dick (such as it is) is not at all the same thing as her relationship to Bruce. But now Dick is Batman and there’s some instinct-level reactions there, especially on the symbiote’s part, so I think that’s fun.
PLUS we get the addition of Damian, and I am always and forever on my Steph and Damian bullshit. And I’m just very fond of the idea of slightly-more-anti-hero-than-villain Venom!Steph finding the mean, stabby child adorable and deciding that if there has to be a Robin (because she can’t really stop them) she’s going to make damn sure there aren’t any more dead ones after her.
(Of course, if you’re following the canon course of events that will go super great eventually, but shhh it’s fine.)
(Dick, obviously, has more than enough going on in his life and isn’t thrilled about this but if it means the quasi-reformed-villainous-alien-goo-monster is looking out for Damian instead of attacking him he’s sort of willing to accept that for the time being.)
This is probably very rambly despite my efforts to organize my thoughts a bit, but I just have so many feelings about the idea of Steph getting superpowers and a symbiote buddy and getting to have a little villain arc and a subsequent redemption(ish) anti-hero-y arc and all the mess of her relationships to the various Bats. I have a ton of little moments and ideas floating around and jotted down and one of these days I’m going to clear my current WIPs enough to really sit down and work on it and I cannot wait.
Thank you so much for the ask!! I’m so glad you like the idea and I’m thrilled to be able to share it with others!
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thinkin' bout moon god sans and maybe sun god papyrus
I thought about this!! While imagining where I’d put Papyrus in the au I imagined he'd be so fitting to be sun.... though that also means the issue of Sans hating the sun would disappear real quick ndmfng
That doesn't mean Sans isn't still going to be rubbing his hands like a villain...
You’re still related to the Sun, at least mythically. You're still sunlight with sunlight-duties.
Sans doesn't have any issues with Papyrus being the Sun, in fact he's very supportive and loves the sun very much! His very cool brother, he deserves and should get a lot of attention!
It's Papyrus that has issues. He loves his brother to bits of course, but.... Sans can be... intense. He likes to spend time in the darkness, and he likes spending time with Papyrus, but he's.... not the nicest with everyone else. He scares other gods and belittles mortals, and he’s distinctly aware that if it weren’t for Papyrus, he wouldn’t care if they turned to ash. He does… the bare minimum, in terms of godly duties. Papyrus gets nervous what he’d do if he wasn’t around.
(Here Sans is more like a rogue god thats scary for his unpredictability and carelessness. He’s a trickster, he doesn’t listen to anyone, and his pranks are… a bit… dangerous for mortals,)
And then… you come along. Pretty little sunlight that he likes to watch from the perch of his moon, so dutiful. He thinks you’re real cute, and while his brother turns his back to him… he snatches you, keeping a piece of sunlight to himself.
Papyrus would try to get you back of course, but it’s a bit tricky because Sans is volatile, and Paps isn’t willing to fight his own brother. He tries to coax him, but nothing seems to be working…
Papyrus: WOULD YOU PRETTY PLEASE GIVE BACK MY SUNLIGHT?
Sans: my sunlight. also no, you’ve got tons already, just one wouldn’t hurt right?
Papyrus: HM….
You: heLP
They’re going to be civil, a little tense. What’s keeping Papyrus from doing more is that you’re being treated well… and your presence seems to have a pacifying effect on Sans…
Why do Sun duties have to be so complicated!
#i dunno where i was going with this sfhjksd#most of the issues from the og au will practically be gone#llamagoddess thought of describing ‘scary rogue trickster moon sans’ thank you :D#moonlight#ask#sun papyrus#papyrus is tense while sans is like hi bro welcome have you met my wife :D#Papyrus: I AM SO SORRY DEAR SUNLIGHT… IF HE DOES ANYTHING UNTOWARDS YOU CAN TELL ME OK?#You: thank you hes been nice enough so far#Papyrus: THANK ME#Papyrus: I WOULD HATE HAVING TO CONFRONT MY BROTHER
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Ten Random Lines Tag
Rules: Pick any ten of your fics/writing projects, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag people (ten if you want to follow the theme).
Tagged by @korblez and @wintersstreams (ty!)
Tagging @otemporanerys @equusgirl @drumsandwaves and ofc anyone else who wants to play along!
I'm cheating of course bc I'm allergic to writing decent sentences so:
The Seasick Pirate (Aka: Sunseeker!Kaidan's adventures in space) “This is The Waterloo, please state your name and business, we mean you no harm. I assure you we mean you no harm.” He repeated in desperation. Static answered them and, as he thought the strange spaceship was about to ram right the way through them, suddenly, there was a change in the static. “-aterooo?” Hissed a voice.
Wipe My Hands Clean - Chapter 9: The Noose Around Your Neck (Aka: Beating Sunseeker!Avitus with a baseball bat) “Then I’d say that’s not justice.” She folded her arms across her chest, letting the accusation weigh. “But besides that, I’m not willing to let the reapers claim another life. There has to come a point where they stop getting to win.”
Beyond Familiar Stars - Chapter 8: 2828 part 3, Relapse (Aka: Beating regular Avitus with the baseball bat) Did he? Did he really want to entertain that suspicion? Avitus would have liked to say that, no, he didn’t. That he knew his people were better than that but… shit. “If you’d been a month later arriving on Havarl…” He met Sara’s eyes, seeing tired resignation there and hoping she could read just the same in his. “I think you’d have found things you wouldn’t have liked.”
Follow My Lead - Chapter 4: Pleading With Powers Which Are Not Real (Aka: Beating regular Castis with that baseball bat since we own it) “His loss is a just statistic.” He finished, hating that the synthetic was right, that he did feel better for talking. “There are millions of his kind, living and dying just as he did. Billions, across every organic race, I imagine. Good people, excellent soldiers regardless of their convictions and upbringings, who will die because an uncaring force we cannot stop demands they do. I will remember Fario for the rest of my life. My daughter too, I suspect. After us though, he will be forgotten, like the rest of his kind. But when the dust settles and our ashes are blown to the wind, who will remember us all?” The hoard let him talk himself into silence, strange, glowing lights focused on him just as a living creatures eyes might. But… it was alive. They were alive, regardless of how uncomfortable that fact made him. “We will.” They said, at last. “We do not forget important data. So we will remember everyone.”
Take The Very Best Of Me (Aka: The baseball bat is hanging over Avitus' head but we haven't hit him much yet) “I’m well aware some people will think I let him stick his dick in me so he lets me talk back without consequences because that’s exactly why I did it.” His eyes were distant, glazed over with some thought he wasn’t quite willing to voice. “That doesn’t answer my question though; does it bother you personally?” It was none of his business what he got up to. Not in the slightest. But… “It does.” His mouth said, even as he’d been trying to formulate a negative response to that question.
A Little Too Much Like Me (Aka: The spectres/C-sec teambuilding paintball-playing no-reapers AU that's occupied the best half of my brain for a month now) Shepard hummed indecisively, tilting her head to one side. “Technically no. The competition isn’t over.” Ah crap. “Shepard, honey…” Garrus met her eyes, equal parts teasing and pleading — just how she liked it best. “Would you really shoot me?”
Untitled (Pre-Andromeda BFS companion piece which needs a name and a plot because it's just dialogue atm) Now he’d had time to cool off, he was doubtless worried sick about the brat. For all that Garrus had been a constant source of frustration and concern to him, Castis had still adored his son and would have done anything for him if he only asked. He likely wasn’t coping well with any part of this. “You want me to find him, don’t you?” He sighed, wishing it wasn’t so plainly what she was after. “I know you have resources at your disposition which we don’t…” She hesitated. “He doesn’t know I’ve contacted you, nor do I intend to tell him unless you want me to.” For the first time, Macen spoke, shifting uncomfortably beside him as he clearly guessed just where his thoughts were headed. “Avi…” Yeah, yeah, he knew just what he meant. Avitus cut off whatever he’d been about to come out with with a gentle headbutt and a growl to shut up before he looked back to the comms screen. “I’m sorry, Rems, I’m no longer any of that. Resigned after they tried to make me drag Saren's memory through muck to sate the damned media. I... probably don’t have much more going for me than you do right now.”
Wipe My Hands Clean - Chapter 8: The Fools Morals (Aka: Also hitting Sunseeker!Macen with a baseball bat whilst it's in hand) The old turians expression was calculating, as if this were an abstract puzzle and not a life they were talking about. “Will you commit treason for a dead man, Captain Barro?” For Avitus? He’d do it in a heartbeat and he wouldn’t regret it. Well there was a realisation. It’d been so easy, up until that point.
A Little Too Much Like Me (again) “Sounds liberating.” Garrus felt safe admitting that much. “I don’t want to get her in trouble either but… is it egotistical that I don’t want to be my dad?” “You mean you don’t want to be sixty-three and stuck in a dead-end job with no hope of promotion because Venari Pallin knows you play house with the enemy?” Rix snorted, then looked away from him. “It’s a dream, kid, and you’ll see that eventually.” “It doesn’t look like a dream come true.” He looked down the scope once more to avoid showing how uncomfortable this conversation was rapidly becoming, as if he hadn’t been the one to make it that way.
Follow My Lead - Chapter 6: Recover Our Pride (Aka: We're here, so let's also use the baseball bat on Daddy Ryder's memory) “Ryder’s pet project?” Shepard, of all people, said, frown evident. “They made it out in time?” “I believe so.” He suddenly wondered just why the name was familiar to her. “Did you know the admiral?” “Nope.” The last syllable was pronounced with far too much disgust. “Nobody knew admiral Ryder, Castis, he never existed, legally.” That… What? “I can assure you Alec did exist.” He pointed out, trying not to be uncomfortable with that after everything. “The alliance erased every record of his career.” She said flippantly. “They were pissed after the council found out about their AI experiment on Luna, especially since it brought to light his private-sector work. So they drop-kicked him back to nowhere, stripped him of his N-designation and then gave him a dishonourable discharge to really rub salt in his wounds.”
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Got It Bad (Boxer!Steve x Librarian!Fem!reader)
summary: steve's sudden rise to pro-boxing fame comes with a change of scenery, and new (old) friends
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
♡ the steve collection ♡
♡ the rockstar!eddie setlist by @carolmunson ♡
warnings: a dash of angst, the return of our lovable rockstar (actually our first time meeting him in this au though), a smidge of smut, mention of alcohol, mention of drugs/addiction.
a/n: for reference, libby is 19, steve is 23, eddie is 25
february, 1990
Steve's rise to fame came faster than either of you could imagine.
The man himself seemed unprepared for how quickly endorsements flocked to him, willing to make up contracts and pay him a large chunk of change to promote them on his his first hop around the country. Steve signed a ten month contract at the end of December that went into affect New Year's day: his legal agreement to professionally beat the shit out of people on camera and make money doing it. His first televised fight was at the end of January, and he was a nervous wreck the whole month leading up to it.
When he inevitably won, he spent a little too much money on celebratory champagne and a hotel room, where you spent an entire weekend living a life you just couldn't get used to. Chocolate-covered strawberries, room service, sex all day, rose-petal baths, and everyone willing to make your stay as comfortable as possible. It didn't seem real, all this attention.
Now that he was making a name for himself—and making money he didn't know what to do with—he needed a manager. Big, his coach, made some calls and found Mikey Santorini, an LA based manager willing to take Steve on.
And for the promise you made to each other? Well, you didn't break it. Maybe that was the problem.
You told the library you'd be back soon, but you knew that was a lie. They made you a "bon voyage" basket, full of special edition covers of your favorite books and handmade bookmarks. You cried when your coworker, Lisa, presented it to you. The library wasn't just a job—it was your safe haven. You'd memorized every aisle, knew where every author lied. You had no idea when you'd see it again.
"We can visit a library in every city, I promise, baby," Steve told you when you came to his apartment sniffling.
You tried not to dwell on how easily he brushed aside the fact that you were putting your career on hold for him. You tried not to stop and think about that for too long, either. You loved Steve, didn't that matter more?
On the first of February, you said goodbye to your family.
Steve carried your luggage down the stairs from your bedroom. Your parents and younger brother, Nick, lined up near the front door, watching silently as he came in and out. Every time he hurried down the snow-coated front steps, your bedroom looked a little emptier.
When the last of it was in Steve's hands, you trudged down after him, heart tugging at the sight of your family all huddled together. Your mother wasn't doing much to conceal her tears, though your father seemed to be doing his best to console her. Nick looked unimpressed, a bored expression plastered across his chubby cheeks—but you knew him better than that, and those big eyes said it all. He was just as sad as you were to say goodbye.
Steve stopped near the front door, turning to flash you a small smile. "I'll give you a minute, okay?"
You nodded, accepting his gentle peck on the mouth. You watched him go, pulling the screen door closed behind him to bring warmth back to the house. A black SUV sat on the curb, supervised by Big in the driver seat. You only had a few hours before you had to be on the road. It would take all day to drive to California from here.
Rubbing your slick palms on your denim thighs, you turned to face your family.
"Um, so...this is it, I guess."
Your mother sniffled, wiping at her glistening cheeks. Her wedding ring glistened in the morning light. When she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around you, your heart burst. She smelled just how she always did, her perfume sweet and soothing, her hair drenched in the same hairspray she'd been using since you were a girl. Her sweater was soft, her skin warm, and you could feel the cool metal of the necklace she never took off pressing against your neck.
"I can't believe my baby girl is leaving," she hiccuped.
Your father reached forward and pinched the back of your mother's sweater, gently guiding her away from you. Tears pooled in your eyes and lodged in your throat, but you swallowed them down as your father opened his arms. You knew if you cried, so would your father, and then they'd never let you leave. But it suddenly felt so real, this departure.
"Call us every day, okay, pumpkin?" Your father muttered against the top of your hair.
You nodded, pressing your cheek to his chest, squeezing your arms tight around his stomach. He rubbed your back for a moment before letting go with a kiss to the head. You knew it was for his own good that he didn't hold on for too long.
You turned to Nick with a grin, punching his arm as hard as you could. He scowled, rubbing at it with a yelp.
"Gonna miss me, squirt?"
Nick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."
You swallowed hard, chest growing tighter by the second. He was only a freshman in high school, and you grew up looking forward to helping him through it. Now, you wouldn't be here to see what sort of shit he got into, or bail him out of any trouble he'd inevitably get roped into. You'd miss his first homecoming, his first football game, his first girlfriend.
"I'll miss you," you admitted.
Nick's eyes cast down at his socked feet, arms dropping to his sides. He balled his hands into fists, and you knew he was inches away from tears.
"Whatever. Don't die, I guess."
You giggled. "Okay."
"Hey." Steve came rushing back into the house, cheeks pink from the wind, your luggage shoved into the trunk of the SUV. "Ready to go?"
You nodded, flashing your family another smile. "I guess I'll see you guys soon. I'll call the minute we get there. Steve's fight is on channel three, you can watch it!"
Steve cocked a sheepish grin, crossing his arms over his chest. Your mother barely glanced at him, reaching out to give you one last firm squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. You didn't even mind the glossy lip print she left in her wake.
Your father reached out and clasped Steve on the shoulder.
"You take good care of my girl, you hear me? If I find out anything happened to her, I swear to fucking god—"
"—Dad!"
Steve remained steadily stoic under your father's disapproving frown and sharp glare. "I understand, sir. I'd never let anything happen to her, I swear."
Your father nodded curtly before releasing Steve. Steve's hand instantly sought the small of your back, pulling you into him gently. You waved at your family, blowing your mother a kiss.
"Bye, I love you guys."
On your way down the street, you watched your mother cry in the front window, and your father wrap his arms around her.
♡ ♡
You had three days before the fight, though they all seemed jam-packed with events and training. You barely had a second to unpack your clothes at the hotel before you were being hauled off to another sweaty, humid gym.
But on the second day, Steve woke up early and rolled toward your side of the bed, smacking kisses all over your bare neck. You squirmed in your sleep, waking with a gasp when his teeth sank into your throat.
"Steve," you squeaked, sighing contentedly when he tugged you flush against his bare chest.
"Morning, my angel," he murmured into your bare skin.
Half-asleep and bleary, a hum rumbled through your throat, hand rising to bat around for Steve's fluffy hair. When you found it, you pushed your fingers through the heap of it, stroking for your own comfort. Steve nuzzled further into your neck, unable to control himself from pressing another eager kiss to the underside of the jaw. You smelled so good in the morning, and you skin was always so warm and soft.
"Morning, Stevie."
Your voice sent a jolt through his chest. He smiled to himself, tightening his arms around your waist. He couldn't believe this was his life.
"Got a call from an old buddy ," he announced, playing with the satin of your sleep tank. "He lives in California now, said he wants to get together and catch up. Invited us to his band practice today."
You hummed, rubbing at your eyes. You still weren't used to sleeping anywhere other than Steve's lumpy mattress at his old apartment, or the same bed you'd been sleeping in since you were young. Sleep didn't come easy away from home.
"He's in a band?" A yawn split your mouth open. You tossed around a moment, still caged in Steve's arms, until you were on your back.
You pried your eyes open and smiled at Steve, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his jaw with your nails. He eased into it like a cat. He forced his eyes open, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at you. Fondness drenched his features, eyes twinkling with a look only you were lucky enough to see. He swept two fingers across your forehead to brush your hair out of your eyes, letting them drag down your cheek gently.
"Yep, ever since Hawkins days."
Your brows jumped. "Oh, he's from Hawkins, too?"
Steve pinched your chin between his thumb and knuckle, tipping your head up to bare your mouth to him.
"Yep." He bent and pressed your mouths together. "Went..." Another kiss, head tipping to explore different angles of your mouth. "...to high school..." He flicked his tongue along your bottom lip and nipped at it. "...together."
You squirmed on the mattress below him, cheeks warming and thighs squeezing together. Your fingers dug into his bulging biceps with need as he situated himself over you. Your thighs stung with the stretch needed to accommodate him.
"Can't wait to meet him."
Steve lowered his pelvis to press flush against yours, snatching a sharp gasp from your throat. His erection throbbed against your panties, satin sleep shorts abandoned on the floor from last night. He smirked at the little sound, running the tip of his nose along your collarbones, blowing hot air across your tender morning skin. He had you shivering like the cold and he'd barely even touched you.
"Mhm, later. Right now, I gotta take care a' my girl."
He disappeared beneath the covers, wedged between your legs thrown over his shoulders. He spent thirty minutes suffocating between them just to hear you whine and cry, and didn't let up until your face was burning red.
♡ ♡
After three hours in the gym and a quick shower, you climbed into the SUV with Steve to meet his friend. It was much warmer here in California—you weren't used to having bare shoulders and exposed legs in February. You wore one of Steve's favorite dresses, a piece from your mother's closet that she gifted to you when she could no longer fit into it. Steve said it made you look like "one of those disco girls, but in a really hot way."
You expected to arrive at a shabby house with a garage full of instruments, so all you could do was frown in confusion when Steve pulled against the curb of The Troubadour.
"Um...Steve?"
Steve popped the glovebox, rifling through the mess of papers and cassettes before pulling out his sunglasses. He shoved them over his eyes and slammed it closed. "Huh?"
You were slow to take your seatbelt off, still glancing through the window with a pout. "What band did you say your friend was in?"
Steve hopped out of the car, and you instantly pulled the visor down to check your lipstick and the state of your hair before he reached your side. When he helped you out of the car, he was quick to wrap his arm around your shoulders and guide you toward the door, though he hadn't answered your question.
Inside, any glimpse of the California sunlight disappeared into darkness. The stage was massive, much too big for a small time band, and you found your eyes bouncing around frantically toward each band poster on the wall for some sort of hint. Steve seemed to know exactly where he was going, though, and guided you toward a door just off the stage.
The plucky twang of guitar strings and the rowdy chorus of male laughter echoed from a room down the hall. Your nerves suddenly felt cold. This was a big time band, and you were just some small town girl.
Sunglasses and brown bomber jacket on, Steve stomped down the hall with you under his arm like he'd been here all his life. You admired that air of confidence and ease.
Steve shoved the door at the end of the hall open, revealing a small cinderblock room with a sectional, tables of alcohol and food wrappers, and a gaggle of men in black leather.
Corroded Coffin.
"Holy shi—"
"Harrington! You made it, man."
Eddie Munson, frontman for Corroded Coffin, came staggering toward Steve with his arms out. Steve kept one around you as he clasped Eddie on the back; two large, leather-padded smacks rang through the room. Your cheeks suddenly felt very warm and swollen. You glanced past Eddie toward the rest of the band, talking amongst themselves and nursing beer. They all glistened with a sheen of sweat, and the room reeked with a haze of alcohol and cigarettes.
You never thought you'd see them outside of the poster on your closet door or the album on your bookshelf.
"And who's this cutie?"
You turned, feeling the heat of the sun gather in your face at the sight of two black eyes steadied on you. Eddie's hair was as large and wild as ever, eyes rimmed with smudged eyeliner, a heavy silver chain around his neck, another one clinking on the low belt loop of his jeans when he crossed his arms and smirked at you. You swallowed, pressing closer to Steve.
"This is my girl, Libby. Libby, this is—"
"—I know who you are," you squeaked. You seemed to be growing hotter by the second, though that seemed out of the realm of possibility.
Eddie's brows shot up, and he tossed a quick glance toward Steve. "That so? Harrington, you didn't tell me you caught yourself a little metalhead."
Steve pushed his glasses to the top of his head, sliding his hand down to your waist. "News to me, Munson."
To ease the sudden stiffness between the two hulking men, you shot your hand out toward Eddie with a saccharine smile. "Nice to meet you."
Eddie's laughter made you start to pull back, but he suddenly bent at the waist and accepted your hand, shaking it with a gentle bow. "And you, sweetheart. C'mon, take a seat. I wanna hear all about this fight, Harrington."
Steve pulled you onto his lap when he sank down on the leather sectional, and you were slightly grateful for it after seeing the sight of those sticky cushions. His big hands splayed across your bare thighs, pulling the hem of your dress down a little further.
Eddie sat across from you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, ringed hands reaching toward a bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor. He pulled the top and poured a stream into his mouth. You inwardly winced when he gulped it down like water, wiping his shiny mouth with the back of his palm.
Eddie held the bottle out, but Steve waved his hand dismissively. Eddie angled the top of the bottle toward you, brows raised. Steve's hand tightened on your thigh, and you smiled sheepishly.
"Oh, no thank you."
If Eddie thought you were lame for denying the alcohol, he didn't show it. Instead, he took another swig and set the bottle on the floor.
"So," he mused, easing back on the sofa, "how'd you two meet?"
Steve drummed his fingers on your thigh, making small tapping sounds, and you slid your fingers through his to interlock them.
"At a party," Steve replied.
Eddie stretched his arm along the back of the sofa. The band lingered in the corner, chatting amongst themselves, though curiously glancing at the pair of you on the sofa. You averted your gaze when the one with shaggy hair dropped his eye in a wink, cheeks burning. If Steve had seen, you knew he would've tossed you aside and gotten his knuckles bloody in a heartbeat.
"Oh! Still the life of the party, Harrington?" Eddie snickered.
You giggled, but Steve only mustered a combination of a smirk and a scowl. "She's from Hawkins, too."
Eddie's eyes rounded with delight, plump lips parting with genuine surprise. He turned to you, and you squished a little closer to Steve, who tapped the side of your thigh with his open palm. "Get my lighter for me, baby?"
You nodded, dipping your hand into the inner pocket of his jacket to fish out the silver zippo. In that time, he'd swiped a cigarette from the table in a random pack, and you brought the lighter to his mouth where the cigarette waited.
"If you're from Hawkins, how come I don't remember you?" Eddie inquired, watching the interaction with amusement.
You snapped the lighter shut and dropped it back into Steve's pocket, watching him inhale a deep drag before blowing it away toward the door. The stench of tobacco used to make you sick, but now it smelled like Steve.
You turned to Eddie and grinned, full-cheeked and sweet. "Oh, you were already in the band by the time I got to high school, and Steve had graduated."
Eddie's smile slipped, eyes sliding to Steve beside you with a slow cock of his head. You tried not to let your smile mimic Eddie's—of disappointment and dismay—and tapped Steve's shoulder.
"I'll be right back."
You placed your heels on the floor to push off and stand up, but Steve tugged you back gently by the arm, cigarette propped in the corner of his mouth. Brows furrowed and lips pulled into a frown, he shook his head.
"Where y' goin', angel?"
You giggled nervously, the back of your neck gathering sweat. "Just to the bathroom, Stevie."
Eddie snickered, sliding a cigarette out of the pack on the table. He brought it to his mouth with his eyes trained solely on the two of you. Steve released your arm and you stood to your feet, bending to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
"Be right back, promise," you cooed.
You were a few steps from the door when you heard Eddie chuckle. "Yeah, Stevie, she promises."
You skittered down the hall toward the ladies' room, closing the door and sliding the lock over.
While you were gone, Eddie lit his cigarette and leaned forward again, hunched over his lap toward Steve.
"Harrington, how the fuck old is this girl?" His voice was low and grumbly.
Steve rolled his eyes, plucking his sunglasses from the crown of his head to tuck them into his jacket. "She's nineteen, Munson, lay the fuck off."
Eddie chuckled, spluttering clouds of smoke into the air.
"Harrington, be honest with me, did you 'nap her?"
Steve shook his head, tonguing away a sideways grin. It'd been a long time since he'd seen Eddie. Though they went to high school together, they never ran in the same crowds. It wasn't until Steve graduated that he met Eddie at a party, woozy out on coke and Jack with a girl under each arm. At first, they just nodded to each other at parties. But when they got to talking, they realized they could make each other laugh, and bonded over their mutual love for women. That was all it took for a friendship to form.
It seemed Eddie had fallen drunk to the rock and roll life. Steve eyed the end of a tied baggie hanging out of Eddie's jacket wearily. He'd been here with his friend before.
"Nah, man, she uh...she's really great," Steve admitted, trying not to let it show just how much he truly ached for you.
"God, she must be. Callin' you Stevie, laying all over your lap. You got it bad, Harrington," Eddie teased in a musical tone.
Steve tapped his ashes toward the floor, shooting Eddie a glare.
"Not bad enough to stop me kickin' your ass."
Eddie's hands flew up with a giggle. "Oh-ho-ho. C'mon, lemme see those jabs, King Steve. I heard you're taking bodies in the ring."
Eddie leaned over the table, a quick fist appearing to shoot out and punch Steve's arm. Steve quickly retaliated, smacking Eddie upside the head in a much more humiliating act that had Eddie's cheeks burning pink.
The door chittered on its hinges, and all heads turned to watch you quietly tiptoe in. You kept your eyes on the floor the whole brisk journey toward Steve, taking tiny but quick steps. You instantly slid back into his lap, comforted by the weight of his arm around your waist, the callused feel of his hand on your thigh.
Eddie leaned back into the sofa again, all wide shoulders and black hair. He hollowed his cheeks around his cigarette and pulled at his jacket until his arms were free of it, revealing two ivory biceps cut with lean muscle. You instantly burned at the sight of them, scrawled with tattoos, and placed your eyes on your lap.
"So, what d' you do, sweet thing? You in college?" Eddie asked, words escaping him with a coil of smoke.
You glanced at Steve, shaking your head in response. Steve was as stoically blank as ever, and you weren't sure if Eddie's use of pet names bothered him or not.
"Um, no, I'm a librarian—"
"—ooh," Eddie interrupted the moment your occupation left your mouth, lips pouted in an 'o' shape, brows furrowed and eyes scrunched, "sexy."
Steve's fingers dug into your thigh, his spare hand ripping the cigarette from his mouth. You barely had a moment to turn your head and clock the angled position of his brows, the crease in his forehead, before he was pointing his cigarette at Eddie.
"Munson." The single utterance was sharp with warning.
The room went quiet for a split second. You brought your hand to the back of Steve's neck, playing with the ends of his hair, and Eddie's face slowly relaxed into another wide, dimpled smile. His hands rose again, though this time in surrender.
The men shared a look of understanding that went unseen by you. But Steve could see it, the appreciative cock of Eddie's head, the small 'I'm happy for you' coded in the way he nodded. They both knew, deep down, that all Steve ever wanted was to know he could be loved.
"So," Eddie cleared his throat, clasping his hands together with a sharp smack, "you guys stickin' around for the show tonight?"
You visibly perked up, grin returning with a twitch of your lips. Before Steve could even dismiss the idea, you pushed your fingers through his hair and turned to Eddie.
"I'd love to!"
Eddie mirrored your grin, his all dimples and charm, and turned his attention to your scowling boyfriend. Only Steve could see through his friendly joy, and note the mocking amusement that lingered beneath.
"She'd love to, Harrington," Eddie cooed.
Cheeks burning, you peered down at Steve with big, round eyes. "It'll be fun, Steve. Beats being cooped up in that hotel room all night."
You stroked the back of his head languidly, feathering his satin locks between your fingers. You could see the gears turning in his head, thinking over your request. His fingers drummed on your thigh again, arm pressing into your spine. Steve hated saying no to you, but he wasn't sure he could handle a crowded club full of screeching guitars and girls too young to be throwing bras and panties at Eddie.
"Ah, nobody wants that! Come on, Harrington, your girl wants to rock!" Eddie reached out and slapped Steve's knee with the back of his hand.
Steve made a "psh" sound, pinching the bridge of his nose. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, sweet and scented of vanilla flavored lipgloss, and Steve's resolve fizzled into nothing.
"Fuck—fine, whatever," he grumbled.
That earned him a soft squeal of excitement from you, and his face scrunched when you grabbed it with both hands to plant a sticky kiss on his mouth. Eddie grinned at it, the way you could squish Steve's cheeks together and smear pink glitter across his face without being reprimanded for it. It was the clear the hulking athlete had it bad for you.
As Steve gently pulled your hands away, the trill of a phone broke through the muffled chatter and low strum of guitars in the dressing room. Before either of you could stop to wonder where it was coming from, Eddie leapt from the couch. He toppled over bottles on the floor, half tripping on the end of the coffee table on his way to the phone hanging on the wall.
"Hey gorgeous," he gasped into the receiver, slamming himself against the wall, out of breath and eager.
The rest of the band assumed Eddie's side of the sectional, and it was the shaggy blond, Gareth, that leaned forward and grinned. "That's gotta be Rink."
You pulled your brows together. "Rink?"
"Stella? Stella Rink? His girlfriend," Gareth explained.
Your head snapped over to Steve, eyes blown wide. "Stella Rink? Eddie's dating Stella Rink?"
Steve shrugged, pulling the hem of your dress down again. He glared toward the band, whose eyes were skimming over the shape of you.
"Dunno who that is, angel."
You cocked your head at Steve, eyes rolling. "We just saw one of her movies last week. She was the main character, Steve, the really pretty one."
Steve let his head fall back against the leather couch cushions, fixing you with an unamused look.
"Now, why would I be lookin' at another girl when I got you, hmm?"
Your eyes rolled again on their own, though your cheeks grew sore from your giddy smile. Steve ate it up, wrapping a hand around the underside of your jaw to pull you down and attach your mouths together. The band of men on the other couch became forgotten at the taste of foreign cigarettes on his mouth, the stiffness of his lap beneath you.
"You're so full of shit," you giggled against the swipe of his tongue.
Steve nipped at your bottom lip and shrugged. "S' the truth. Can't deny the truth, baby."
The phone returned to the cradle on the wall with a bell's chime, and you pulled away from Steve just in time to see Eddie trudging back. Steve brought his arm up to rest around your shoulders, yanking you down until your head knocked into his.
"How's America's sweetheart, Munson?" Gareth snickered, watching Eddie pout.
"Too busy," the rockstar huffed.
You gnawed on your lip a moment, cheeks warm again. "So, you're really dating Stella Rink?"
Eddie spun to face you with such fervor that you recoiled into Steve, and his hand tightened on your thigh to pull you closer.
"Dating her? Honey, that's my wife."
Confusion twisted on your face, but the band just snickered at Eddie's whole-hearted declaration.
"They've been dating for, like, three months," Jeff, the bassist, chuckled.
Eddie waved his hands, brushing off the band's dismissal. He perched on the arm of the couch on the other side of Steve, all pale limbs and black attire. He placed one foot on the cushion next to Steve and bent over his knee, speaking to the pair of you like telling a secret.
"Well, when you know, you know. Right, Harrington?"
At this angle, Steve got a better look at the baggie in Eddie's pocket—a familiar white powder coated the plastic. Steve tore his eyes slowly away from the baggie and met Eddie's gaze, making sure the shaggy-haired man knew what Steve had been looking at.
Eddie swallowed, smile slipping, but Steve's eyes were steadily narrowed with suspicious warning.
"Right," Steve agreed.
They continued to stare at each other—Steve unnervingly calm and Eddie a little squirmy—while you murmured amongst the band members about Stella and Eddie, and how bloody Steve's fights usually got. They were surprisingly curious about how violent boxing could get.
But Steve put an end to the conversation with a gentle tap to your thigh, pushing off the back of the couch to sit up and guide you with him.
"C'mon, baby, you wanna go eat?"
The question seemed rhetorical, the both of you already on your feet and your hand grasped tightly in Steve's before you could even excuse yourself from the band conversation. You waved goodbye to them, pairing it with a cute, rosy-cheeked smile that made them swoon.
"See you guys tonight, right?" Eddie asked, following the pair of you toward the door. "And we should get together again sometime, Harrington. It's been a while."
A big, ringed hand clasped down on Steve's shoulder, and the boxer stopped short in the doorway to turn to his friend. You stopped with him, leaning into his side. For a moment, you were certain they'd have another vague and ominous staring match. But then Steve leaned forward, jerked his chin toward Eddie's legs, and blinked blankly at Eddie.
"You watchin' that?"
Eddie blinked back, his scoff a secondary, delayed reaction yanked from him by disbelief. He glanced at you for a moment, uncertain how much he wanted to say in front of you, and placed his hand on the door.
"I got it covered, Harrington, but thanks."
His tone was sharp but not cruel, and it took you a moment to even pick up on the underlying stiffness between the two men. Clearly, there was something wrong, but you just couldn't figure out what. Did Eddie have an accident, were his legs okay? The dimpled grin he flashed Steve seemed irritated.
Steve clapped Eddie on the arm: a friendly, smidge-too-hard pat. "Alright, man. Catch you guys tonight, gotta go get some earplugs."
The irritation was slow to melt from Eddie's smile, but he chuckled all the same. You cleared your throat, raising your hand in a tiny wave toward Eddie.
"Bye, Eddie, it was nice to meet you."
Eddie bent at the waist again in another bow, and you couldn't help but giggle dazedly. "And you. See you tonight, sweetheart."
♡ ♡
At dinner, Steve smoked another cigarette on the patio of a Mexican restaurant, sunglasses shielding him from the evening sun. He hadn't said much since you left Troubadour, and you could only sip your lemonade for so long in silence before you huffed.
"Baby, what's wrong? Are you mad we're going to the concert tonight, because we don't have to if you really don't want to."
Steve tapped his cigarette over the pavement, head shaking. "Nah, angel, s' not it."
You frowned, reaching over to grab his hand on the table. His watch knocked on the white cloth, and you traced your finger over the leather band.
"Then what is it?"
Steve took a drag of the cigarette and blew a thin stream of smoke toward the street.
"Nothin', baby. Just a headache."
You nodded, flashing a tight-lipped smile. You dipped into your purse on the chair beside you, fishing out the metal pill container you always carried on hand. You swiped two pain pills for him and placed them beside his Coke. Steve followed your movements, a huff of laughter shooting through his nose. He placed his cigarette in his mouth, refusing to drop your hand, and collected them in his hand.
"Thanks, angel."
You beamed. "Of course, Stevie. Now come on, I wanna go to the hotel and get ready. I can't believe I'm finally seeing Corroded Coffin live."
Steve stamped out his cigarette and plopped the pills in his mouth. He watched you, unable to contain your ecstatic smile, though you tried by pursing your lips and gazing down at your plate. He'd been watching you since you sat down—he watched you gaze around Sunset Strip like you were in another world, wide-eyed and curious.
He said nothing of Eddie's drug habit, or his mother's when he was a child that made him weary around Eddie because of it. Steve said nothing about hearing you sniffle in the bathroom at one a.m because you tried calling your parents and they didn't answer, and you missed them so bad that you seemed off in your own world ever since you got here.
Because right now, you were happy. And that's all that mattered to Steve.
"Let's go, baby."
♡ ♡
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pahinga (lock pt. 2) — eren jaeger
— eren jaeger x female reader (modern au | lock au)
— content: both a mother's and father's day special <3 just family time with the lock family without the chaos
— summary: pahingá [noun] rest; repose; a safe haven where you can feel the most peaceful, for some it is a place but for most, it takes the form of the person you want to see at the end of the day — someone that can make you forget the exhausting world. comes from the root word, hingá, which means breathe. (used in a sentence: ikaw ang aking pahingá.)
— word count: 7.2k
— notes: for those who want lock pt. 2, here it is !!! though, it doesn't contain the chaotic side of this family, it still shows the dynamic between parents and kids. i, for one, feel better when my mom or dad is willing to listen to me (when i don't find their moods disheartening, that is). fun fact: all of these scenarios happened to me in real life except for one (it's obvious which one it is dhjddj). this was supposed to be posted on mother's day but with me being preoccupied because of uni, i never got to finish it. soooo, enjoy reading this and have an amazing day <33
lock can be read here !!
reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! masterlist
1.
Everybody was already picked up by their parents but Ezra was still waiting by one of the canopied benches lining his elementary school.
Tumultuous raindrops fell on the roof of his little shelter as he was staring at a single point his entire wait. It has been an hour since his classes were postponed because of the unexpected storm. His classmates were gone so long ago and all little Ezra could do was sit by himself, praying that his dad or mom’s car rolled into the parking lot of the school. The top of his head became wet from running all the way to the front of the huge double door entrance because he left his raincoat by their living room’s low table. Ezra sniffed, his tears spilling on his cheeks like how the rain continuously pounded on the ground, and his fists wrapped around the straps of his Pochacco backpack while thinking of the worst things imaginable.
Did his mom forget about him? Was it because his younger brothers needed her more than him?
Ezra sobbed now. He knew that by entering elementary school, he would spend less time with his parents, the very people who he looked up to. He didn’t want to be far from you and Eren.
Aran was in his last year of pre-school and Caspian just started zooming through every corner of the house. Ezra was the only one among his brothers whose school was so far away from home. Was this going to be the day his parents left him behind? He continued crying, his fists covering his eyes and his sobs drowned out by the rain. It was getting cold and he wanted nothing more than to cuddle close to you, his mom.
He jumped at a sudden flash of light in the sky, covering his ears when the clap of thunder shook the earth.
“Ezra, sweetheart!”
Your voice was quiet in the thunder but Ezra heard it the moment you uttered the first syllable of his name.
The little boy looked up and saw you running towards him with a clear umbrella over your head. It looked like you came straight from work. Your appearance was frazzled — hair askew from the tidy bun you always sported every single day, locks of it tumbling over your shoulder unbound, and your suit jacket hastily put on your person. You looked so distraught at the sight of your baby sitting alone under a canopy with his wet clothes and teary face. Curse one of the higher-ups in your office for breathing over your neck every minute. You didn’t even manage to send a text to Eren because of your boss’ policy of no phones during work hours. With the storm slowly becoming destructive as the afternoon passed by, your boss had no choice but to relieve everyone from work. Which was why you hastily went out of your office, the first thing in your mind was Ezra. It was a stroke of luck that Aran didn’t have any class for the day. Thank his teacher for predicting the future.
Despite your frantic state, Ezra felt safe. “Mommy!” He cried while opening his arms and hopping off the bench.
You immediately kneeled under the canopy and let Ezra run in your arms. He cried on your shoulder, wrenching your heart in the worst way possible. You repeatedly kissed his temple, whispering, “Mommy’s here. I got you, sweetie.”
“I’m scared,” he kept saying.
You rubbed his back in rhythmic circles. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry for not coming sooner.” Ezra’s cries didn’t stop so you pulled away from the hug to meet his eyes. You cupped his chubby cheek with your palm and smiled. “Hey, baby, you don’t have to worry — I’m right here now. Follow my breathing, okay?” He nodded at your words. Then, you took a deep breath in, the little boy following your actions, and you exhaled alongside him. Even though it was a shaky sigh, he managed to calm down almost instantly. You repeated the actions until his breaths no longer trembled. “You’re doing so good, sweetie.” Your hands never stopped running over his arms, transferring heat from your palms to his icy skin. “Let’s go home, yeah?”
Ezra nodded with a small yet bright smile.
“Give me your bag and put this jacket on. Come here.” The boy wrapped his arms around your neck after you put on his backpack. With a steady hand over his bottom and head, you lifted him in your arms. “Up you go. Now, does hot chocolate sound awesome?”
“Yeah!”
“Hold tight on Mommy, okay?”
“Mhm.”
“Then, to home, we go!”
2.
“Relax, honey,” Eren whispered to you, his large hand covering your shaking one. “If you’re going to cry, I’m crying, too. I don’t think these people will appreciate the two of us sobbing at our son’s graduation.” He stopped talking when he heard someone cry behind him. Guess it was okay to cry at this event, then.
“Look at him, Ren.” You wiped your teary eyes with your hand.
Eren followed your finger to Aran standing at the side of the stage clad in his elementary uniform thrown underneath his deep emerald graduation gown. The brunet grinned at the scene of his second eldest trying to straighten his graduation gown. Your husband knew that you were about to cry because this is the second time any of your children would have to go to a farther school. The more he stared at Aran talking to one of his classmates in the line for elementary diplomas, the more he understood your sentiments.
And it was all because of your hard work as the mother of his children that another one would be taking the stage as the valedictorian.
Very much like how you help Ezra with his homework and projects, you helped Aran with his schoolwork throughout elementary school despite having a full-time job at the local city hall. Not only did you teach them how to study, but you also reminded them that someday they'll have to do this alone — studying for their academics. You were never hard on them when they made a mistake in calculating their divisions or fractions nor were you too drilling about the theories necessary for a sixth-grader. Instead, Eren watched you by the counter island, a loving smile on his lips while you maintained patience like no other. (That was until Caspian banged one of the frying pans while waiting for dinner did Eren stop staring at you like a lovesick fool.)
“I’m so proud of him, Ren,” you gushed, hand on your chest. “I know we saw Ez up there a year ago but I think that fact made me even more emotional.”
Eren chuckled. “I know, Liebe.” He pressed a kiss on your temple. “Middle school may be a different world but that’s the thing. They’re growing up now.”
That alone made you pout. “They’re growing up, huh?”
“Yeah,” Eren agreed, rubbing his hand on your arm.
“I just wish I could prevent them from doing so.”
“Me, too, Liebe. Me, too.”
Aran met your gaze from the side of the stage. The boy brightened at you and enthusiastically raised his arm in the air to give you a wave. You returned the gesture with a warm smile. Satisfied with your response, he went back to talking to his classmate, the elated glint in his eyes reflecting his father’s.
Then, the graduation started.
Because J was a later letter, you could hear one of your kids whining even without them doing it yet.
“Mommy, how much longer?” Caspian complained beside you. He planted his head on your lap, which earned a squawk from Ezra, who’s beside him since his feet would dangle on his older brother’s carefully-ironed pants.
You laughed at his puffy cheeks, pinching them while answering, “Just wait a little bit, okay?”
“Will we go to that fancy restaurant with the tall ice cream sundaes after this?”
“Of course, it’s a celebration after all.” You ran your fingers through Caspian’s hair, making him nuzzle more onto your lap. That fancy restaurant was where you and your family frequented whenever there was something worthy of a celebration. Usually, your and Eren’s friends also tagged along, especially since the owner was an ex-boyfriend of one of your best friends. Some might say it was going to be awkward but Sasha was passed that and was happily dating Mikasa, not to mention Niccolo was such a sweetheart since you were in college. Plus, he offered free sides and dishes — you could say it was a win.
“It’s already the letter H, little man,” Eren chimed, leaning over you to poke his youngest’s nose. “You can have your ice cream parfaits sooner than expected.”
“Jaeger, Aran.”
Cheers erupted in your row. Connie, Jean, and Sasha all stood up and whooped with their hands cupped at the sides of their mouths. Mikasa even joined in the cheers, preferring to sit rather than follow her girlfriend and friends’ example. You and Eren laughed at the standing ovation while Armin only shook his head, still clapping nonetheless. Ezra managed a chuckle, thankful that he wasn’t the one looking at the crowd with an embarrassed face this time around. Cassie, on the other hand, jumped at the loud cheers and glared at the three who disrupted his dozing moment. Eren cupped his hands over his son’s ears because it looked like the little boy was plotting on using his toy soldiers against them. People were looking at your group as if they ate something remotely sour. As Connie said, it sucked to be them.
Aran shakily smiled at all of you after transferring his string to the other side of his cap. You could see that his cheeks were flaming at the whoops emanating from his aunts and uncles.
As the names dwindled to the last person in Aran’s batch list, it was now time for the top students’ speeches. Eren perked up in his seat, with you putting a hand on his arm while preventing a laugh. Your husband took out his phone, ready to record every single word of your son’s well-crafted speech (it was made with the help of Ezra, who took perfection to the next level among your children). Everybody in your friend group was excited to hear the valedictory address.
“And now for this batch’s valedictorian — please, kindly take the stage, Aran Jaeger.”
Polite applause enveloped the venue. Aran felt his chest pound along with every step he took towards the stage and at every clap echoing around him. His hands were clammy and he was gulping faster in a minute. The butterflies in his stomach were anything but fluttering, nerves pooling in every crevice of his body. His mind opened and his speech flew out of his head with the ticking hands of his wristwatch. It worsened when he finally stood behind the podium, hundreds of faces staring up at him in anticipation. Aran could see Ezra raising his thumb next to his face, an encouraging smile on his big brother’s lips. That didn't help.
So, he turned to the one person he knew would quell the woes of public speaking from his system — you.
Your warm gaze, a color that was similar to his yet so different at the same time, was trained on him. Aran knew he only stood there for mere seconds but time seemed to slow down as you presented him with a gentle, tender smile. You took a deep breath in and a knowing spark tickled his chest. He followed the action as silently as possible. The nervousness that he felt minutes prior with an exhale — magic only you could conjure without lifting a hand or uttering any incantations.
The microphone picked up the small gasp he did while closing his eyes.
Aran parted his mouth and started speaking.
3.
“Mommy,” Caspian murmured, tugging on the edge of your blouse.
“Yes, pumpkin?” You faced your youngest after talking to one of the mothers attending the soccer tournament.
He fiddled with his gloved hands. “I can’t do this.”
“Oh, pumpkin,” you placed a hand over his fidgeting ones and looked him in the eye. “Why do you think so?”
Caspian looked around the grassy field that was transformed for the soccer game thrown by his elementary school. There were so many third-grade kids mingling with each other, sharing stories about how they got the newest Nerf guns or the latest phones in their matching uniforms. They all looked confident enough for this game. He then tilted down his head to stare at his cleats, brows furrowed and pout visible on his lips. “What if I mess up? What if we lose because of me?”
You turned to Eren, who was beside you, only to find him preoccupied with Aran’s Rubix cube and Ezra leaning against him while reading an assigned book from his English class. As much as the sight endeared you, you needed his help because he was the one who played a lot of sports the entirety of his life (well, since the moment he entered elementary school, that is). Letting your husband and other kids are, you focused your attention on your gloomy son. You cup his cheek, your thumb stroking the skin underneath his eye.
“Do you trust Mommy?” you asked him.
Caspian adorably nodded his head.
With your smile widening at his response, you continued, “I know you’re going to be so amazing out there. You practiced a lot with Daddy, right?” He nodded again. “Didn’t he tell you so many compliments because you caught every single ball he kicked? We’ve seen you play in so many practices, pumpkin, and there’s never a moment that we thought you were going to mess it up.” At your every word, Caspian’s face brightened until he was beaming in front of you. “Now, how does our little ace feel?”
Caspian giggled when you tickled his sides. “Better!”
Your son’s coach was doing the role call. There was no trace of nervousness on Caspian’s face when he faced you again, his puppy dog eyes staring at you with anticipation instead. You took a deep breath in and he followed the action. Both of you exhaled at the same time and you couldn’t have felt so proud in your life. “Are you ready, pumpkin?”
He looked so alive after the little gesture you two shared. “Yeah!”
You chuckled and showered his cheeks with so many kisses. “That’s my boy.”
Eren popped his head over your shoulder. “Hey, little man, are you feeling alright?”
Caspian’s hair bounced as he nodded. “Mommy helped me calm down, Dad.”
“How about this? After this game, we’re going to eat your favorite ice cream sundae.”
“Really?!”
“As many orders as you want, Cassie.”
“You’re the best, Dad!” Caspian exclaimed before kissing your cheek and Eren’s. “I love you, Mommy!” He then ran towards his coach.
You slowly turned to Eren, who was wearing a smile while looking at his mini-me. “I can’t believe he called you the best just because you offered to buy him all the ice cream sundaes for the afternoon.” Despite your words, your face looked amused.
Eren chuckled, leaning in to plant a kiss on your temple. “Nah, your encouragement for our little Cassie is definitely the best. I just used the most obvious tactic to make him even happier.” He sighed, a smile present on his lips. Eren placed his chin on your shoulder, humming a made-up tune while watching the first few minutes of the game. You both could hear Aran shout ‘go, Cassie’, Ezra joining him even though he was holding the camera. Eren grinned at his two other sons. “Look, our baby boy never takes his eyes off the ball. That’s our Cassie!” He lifted his head from your shoulder to yell the cheer.
And when you happily watched your son play the goalkeeper. He might not save every ball this time but you knew that he gave it his best. Your heart swelled with summer butterflies when Caspian’s brilliant viridian eyes met yours, pure happiness radiating around him.
4.
There was no distinct chorus of ‘I’m home’ coming from the front door when Ezra and Aran came home from school.
As the door closed, pounding footsteps ran up the stairs. You were about to check what was wrong when Aran slowly walked under the opened arch of the kitchen with a troubled look on his face. You wiped your hands on your apron. “What’s wrong, sunshine?”
Aran gulped, not meeting your eyes as he stared down at the smooth wooden panels of the floor. His bag was still on his shoulders and his sock-covered feet shuffled as if he was buying time. “Uh.” He accidentally caught Caspian looking in his direction from one of the counter stools of the kitchen island, the younger boy expressing his curiosity with thick furrowed eyebrows and a frown. Aran only pursed his lips to answer the boy’s silent question. “You see, Mom, uhm.”
“Did something happen at school?” You carefully asked, giving Aran your full attention.
Your second eldest rubbed the back of his neck. “I think it has something to do with their honors list. Their class just got theirs.”
Your mouth formed an ‘oh’ in understanding. You quickly turned back to the kitchen cupboards, opening up shelves and taking out the necessary ingredients to make a certain snack. “Thank you for telling me, sunshine,” you told him over your shoulder. “You can use the TV to play games today, just make sure you’re wearing your glasses!” You shouted when you heard his footsteps receding and heading towards the family room. Aran yelled a ‘yes, Mom’, a reply that you found satisfactory before you busy yourself with making macaroni and cheese.
Usually, you weren’t around the house when the kids got home from school but when you were, you refrained from cooking anything at that hour because you would be at the grocery store in preparation for dinner and breakfast the next morning. Today was one of those rare days where you had an early off-time and Eren volunteered to do the grocery shopping. You also had more time on your hands since your higher-ups in the city hall didn’t assign that much paperwork for the rest of the weekend. While you waited for the macaroni and cheese to finish baking, you felt a homely embrace wrap around your waist, the smell of cinnamon and sandalwood making you smile as you cut some garlic bread. Eren’s chuckle tickled your right ear, with him burying his face in the crook of your neck. His smile on your skin ignited a swarm of monarchs inside your ribcage even after years of being married to him. He swayed you to the humming of a love song he just heard on the radio on the way home.
“I’m home, Liebling,” Eren tenderly murmured to your ear, his lips brushing over your earlobe.
“Welcome home, darling,” you replied with a huge smile.
Eren’s grin lit up his eyes. He dipped his head down and met your lips with his as if they were puzzle pieces that were made to fit with each other. His hold on you tightened, pulling you closer to his chest until you could feel his heartbeat on your back. The both of you separated for air, centimeters as the distance between your lips. The warmth on your face spread as Eren leaned again to slant his lips with yours. He playfully bit your bottom lip before speaking close to you so that you could feel his breath, “God, I love you so fucking much, Liebling.”
“I love you just as much, darling,” you hummed.
Eren giggled, flowers erupting inside him at those words. He watched you cut the garlic bread, his chin resting on your shoulder as if it belonged there. “What are you making? It’s too early to start cooking dinner.”
“This is for Ezra,” you answered, putting the cut bread pieces on a small platter.
Eren turned to her with a worried scrunch on his face. “What happened?”
“Their honors list came out.”
“Usually, he’d tell us if it did.”
You paused with your hands resting on the counter idly. “Well, this time, he went straight up to his room.”
Understanding dawned on Eren. Without you telling him outright about the results of the honors list, he could tell from your concerned expression that they didn’t align with Ezra’s expectations at all. He sighed, slumping on you more now that he knew the reason why you were cooking a container of baked macaroni and cheese. The smell was mouthwatering and it was still in the oven, for God’s sake. “Do you want me to talk to him?”
The look on your face was enough to make Eren swoon. Your eyes widened in a way that reminded him of an adorable cat — pupils blown and entire facial features set in a soft, cuddly state that had him clutching his chest in his mind. “Really? You would do that?”
“Well, you already cooked him his favorite food, I might as well let you rest.”
“Thank you, Ren.”
“Anything for our little family, Liebe.”
With that, Eren went up the stairs with a tray of macaroni and cheese, garlic bread, and a tall glass of iced tea (with a slice of lemon pinching the rim) half an hour later. He wasn’t one to talk to his boys when they were upset. It was mainly you. Which meant that they gained a much closer relationship with you rather than him. It broke his heart a little but it was downright heartwarming seeing Ezra, Aran, and Caspian cuddle up to you for random moments of comfort. He vividly remembered jokingly asking them which parent they would choose while preparing to drive to Disneyland in two cars. The three of them chose you. It was safe to say that Eren stood in front of the family’s second car with a pained smile on his face. In the end, you told him you five were riding in the same car anyway so he shouldn’t beat himself up over it even though he dug his grave.
However, that didn’t mean he never knew how to talk to his boys.
He stopped in front of Ezra’s door and tried to grasp the tray with one arm. With a full minute of him making sure that your hard work didn’t topple from the tray, Eren knocked on his eldest son’s door. The wait wasn’t that long because he heard a faint, “It’s unlocked,” from inside the room.
The sight that welcomed Eren upon entering Ezra’s room pinched the former’s heart.
Ezra rarely cried. It was something Eren observed on him ever since he outgrew the phase where the little boy mostly spent his nights between you and him in the master bedroom, especially on thundering, stormy ones. On days that he felt the need to let out a tear or two, the boy would simply look into space until he couldn’t feel the burning behind his eyes and throat. Most of the time, Eren would rub his back and in the rest of those times, your arm was wrapped around your eldest in a comforting manner. Eren never understood the concept of bottling up emotions and older siblings since he was the youngest in his family. One thing he did see though was Zeke and Mikasa doing the exact thing as Ezra — never showing emotions even when they knew it was perfectly okay to spill them, knowing that their home would be more than willing to catch them. Now, Eren respected his older siblings but he didn’t want their mannerisms plastered on his son. It hurt him just thinking about it.
However, the moment Eren closed the door with a push of his back, Ezra hastily sniffed and wiped his eyes. The teenage boy turned so that his back was facing his father.
Without saying a word, Eren walked toward his son’s bed. He let him be while placing the tray of food on Ezra’s nightstand. A small sigh came out of the brunet. This would be a tough afternoon. The bed’s mattress dipped at Eren’s weight. Ezra’s silent sobs colored the entire room blue and Eren knew it was better if he let him cry it out until he had no energy to. He simply raked his fingers through his soft hair — a thing he did for his boys when they were younger and dozed off on his chest in the family room. The entire time, his body was angled so that he was giving Ezra apt attention. If the man had to brag about something, it would be his patience because raising three boys with you would ultimately require it.
“You okay, buddy?” Eren asked Ezra once the boy sat against the headboard.
Ezra sniffed, staring at his lap with his fingers fidgeting. “Are you disappointed in me?”
The man sat up straight, his face blatantly showing how perplexed he was.
“I know I disappointed my teachers.” Ezra glanced at Eren from the corner of his eye. “They told me they couldn’t believe it.” Fresh tears start building up in Ezra’s eyes. “I mean … I couldn’t believe it either.” There was a pause and the boy’s voice wavered, “I studied so hard this semester.” I don’t know where I went wrong. I worked so hard, and knowing that it wasn’t enough in the end … It hurts so much, Dad. I’m so angry at the teachers, and my classmates who earned their spot on the honors list, but above all, I’m so angry at myself for not pushing myself harder to be there with them. All I want is to make you and Mom proud.”
Eren placed a hand on the back of Ezra’s head. “Buddy, buddy.” The boy was hyperventilating while spewing out words that made Eren’s chest clench. His son’s distinct irises met with his. Eren whispered, “Breathe, buddy.”
The two of them inhaled and exhaled at the same time.
“One more time, bud,” Eren told him.
Ezra followed his father’s rhythm of breathing until he felt freer than earlier.
“Better?” The man asked. Ezra nodded and that was enough for him to pull his son in a side hug. The boy leaned his head on his shoulders. “Can I tell you something?” A hum was what Eren received as a reply. “You always make me and your mom proud. Every single day since you were born — you are our pride and joy. Nothing can change that, especially a list of students from your school.”
Eren rubbed the teenager’s shoulder with a firm squeeze.
“We know that academic achievement is the main focus, seeing as you’re in school and all, and it’s true that you’re required to do well so that you can have a secure educational background in the future. But, Ez,” Eren locked eyes with a teary Ezra, “you are so much more than some measly remarks from your teachers or your grades. They don’t define who you are as a person. I, for one, think you’re the most hardworking kid out there and your teachers don’t see that — to hell with them. The fact that you stay up all night trying to learn a mathematical equation or memorize the entire periodic table, the fact that you do well and do not get distracted, and the fact that you also help your little brothers in their classes — I could not possibly be prouder.
“Now, are we cool? Are you feeling any better?”
Ezra’s lips wobbled but he still managed a smile. “You’re so awesome, Dad.”
The brunet’s heart swelled and a large smile became the result of it. He leaned down and kissed Ezra on the forehead. “And you’re so amazing, our little bean. Oh, and before I forget, your mom made some mac and cheese.”
Ezra had stars in his eyes. “Really?”
“Yeah!” Eren handed him the bowl of mac and cheese. “She whipped it up the moment you got home.”
The boy stuffed his face with a spoonful of his comfort food. “She makes the best mac and cheese ever.”
“I know, right?”
“You wanna have a bite, Dad?”
“Nah, it’s your bowl — you deserve to have it all to yourself.”
Ezra was having none of that so he rolled his eyes. “Here you go, Dad.”
Eren laughed at a spoon filled with mac and cheese hovering in front of his mouth. He was about to decline but the teenager narrowed his eyes at him. “Okay, okay.” Your cooking never fails to feel like home. “Mmm. Still delicious the first time I tried it in her college dormitory.”
From beyond the door, you smiled, forehead pressed on the doorframe and hand feeling the mellow song being played in your heart. Tears were shed, feelings were bared, but you knew that they would be alright in the end. The person who held your heart was someone who loved too much and he would do anything for those who he showered them to, that included your children — most especially your children with him. All was well and it was because of Eren Jaeger.
5.
“Mister Jaeger, this is the school doctor. I just wanted to let you know that Caspian sprained his left foot and wrist earlier during lunch. You’re his emergency contact in the student records and he requested to have you pick him up. Thank you.”
He was borderline going over the speed limit. The frantic, tumultuous beating inside his chest never calmed even as he overtook a truck in front of him. Maybe that contributed to how fast his heartbeat was. The polaroid of his family and air freshener was swaying like a pendulum at his speed. There was no way he was going to slow down when he received a call from the school about Caspian. Eren thanked the deities above that there was no traffic even though it was lunchtime. He definitely didn’t want the rush hour to make him late when his son was hurting inside his school’s clinic.
Eren already contacted you about the situation. He had to lower the volume in the car because you shouted so loud in worry, threatening one of your officemates to let you off work just to pick Caspian up. Your husband had to calm you down in a steady voice, telling you that he got it covered. He felt the same way as you but Eren was more on the frustrated side. Of course, his top priority was his son’s safety but the impulsivity from when he was young told him to bring this matter to the principal’s office. Caspian was the most careful child there was. Being the baby in the family, he was more on the sheltered side. With a doting mother, protective dad, and attentive older brothers, it was safe to say that Caspian was the most loved kid in the city. It was even a miracle that he joined the sports team in his school. The number of times you fuss over his injuries because he tried blocking a soccer ball using his face.
So, while walking towards the clinic in his dress shirt, his tie discarded before getting out of the car, he was plotting to hunt down the kid who hurt his little boy.
“Oh, no,” Eren breathed out.
On one of the many blinding white clinic beds was a little boy of ten. Tears kept making tracks on his chubby face, his hiccups coming every so often as he cried for his parents to be there faster. Caspian’s wrist and foot were encased in compression wrap, with his arm snug in a sling. It was seen that every little movement hurt him because he let out tiny yelps while trying to make himself comfortable on the clinic bed. His butt was starting to hurt waiting for his dad to come barging into the clinic. Right when he was about to sob, Caspian heard the door open with a bang, pants coming from the clinic’s entrance rang out the large room.
Caspian looked up from the daisy sticker on his compression wrap. “Papa,” he cried, which caught the attention of the school doctor.
“Mister Jaeger, you’re finally here,” the doctor greeted him.
“Yeah,” the said man numbly nodded, his eyes never straying from Caspian’s. He sighed while making a beeline to his son. “Oh, little man.” He sat on his hunches in front of Caspian, looking up at him with downturned eyebrows. “What happened?” Eren wiped the tears flowing on his son’s fluffy cheeks.
“It hurts, Papa,” Caspian cried. It has been a while since Cassie called him that. The boy claimed he was too old for it. As much as the term tickled his heart, reaching his lips in a smile; he knew that it was at the expense of his son’s safety. “I want this to stop.”
Eren nodded, his hand rubbing the back of Caspian’s head. “I know, I know, little man.”
He saw that Caspian was starting to lose air from crying too much so he cupped both of the boy’s cheeks with his large palms. The warmth from his hands made Caspian stare into the same viridian eyes you love seeing on Eren every day when you wake up to strawberry skies. Eren breathed in, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling it through his mouth. It would be unconventional to have Caspian follow through with breathing with the nose since the boy has been crying since before he came to his aid. The breathing exercises managed to stop Caspian’s hyperventilation, the drops of starlight dripping from the boy’s eyes turned into drying tracks as he shared a mirrored smile with his father.
The brunet man affectionately pinched Caspian’s chin. “Does it still hurt so badly?”
Caspian sniffled. “A little bit,” he murmured under his breath in a pout.
Eren lowly laughed. “Can you handle it?”
The boy nodded, the pout still present on his lips. “Now that you’re here, Papa, I can handle it.”
“That’s my boy,” Eren softly told him. “Can you wait a few minutes so that I can talk to the doctor?” Caspian once again nodded and Eren stood up straight from his hunches. He ruffled his son’s hair as tenderly as possible, pinching his ear just like when he pinched his chin. Eren sat down on the chair angled in front of the doctor’s desk. “What exactly happened?” He asked the man in the blinding white laboratory coat.
“He was pushed on the stairs, Mister Jaeger,” the doctor informed. “That’s what the witnesses gathered. Caspian’s class was going to the gym for P.E. and you know how rowdy elementary school kids are. One thing led to another, Caspian was pushed by one of his classmates while transferring to the gymnasium. It was a nasty fall, Mister Jaeger. He could’ve broken his foot if he didn’t prevent his fall with his hand.”
Eren’s eyes became hooded. “Who was the kid who pushed my son?”
“Don’t worry, Mister Jaeger, he is currently facing the principal for this matter. Most likely, he would be suspended from school for a month maximum. If it weren’t an accident, it would be a direct expulsion.”
“Hmm.” Eren crossed his arms over his chest, his arms straining inside his dress shirt.
“The child will be facing punishment, Mister Jaeger. As for Caspian, you can make an ice bath for his feet and constantly apply a cold compress on his wrist. Don’t let him do strenuous activities to prevent the injury from getting worse. The healing process should be within two weeks to a month.”
“Got it, Doc.”
“Caspian is excused for the entire day. You can bring him home now.”
Eren nodded before standing up, his hands patting his slacks from invisible dust. “Thank you for patching him up, Doc.”
“You’re welcome, Mister Jaeger. It’s just my job.”
The brunet smiled at the doctor. He then made his way towards Caspian and went back to sitting on his hunches to meet his boy’s eyes. “You ready to go home, little man? Is it alright if I carry you? Okay, up we go.”
Eren was a tall man with the right muscles sculpting his body. Carrying a ten-year-old kid who wasn’t that bigger than him when he was that age proved to be an easy feat in itself. With Caspian’s bag slung on one of his shoulders, Eren made sure he wouldn’t jostle Caspian’s injury. Even as he placed him in the passenger seat and securely put the seatbelt on him, Eren was still gentle. The entire time, he could see that his mini-me had been warily glancing at him, most likely expecting him to explode and scold him for being reckless again. Eren wanted none of that. Yes, Caspian needed someone to tell him to be more careful but he was hurt this time. Real bad. And Eren was supposed to be the cool dad who never got angry unless his kids really did something horrendous like blow up a school building. Thank God that would never happen. (Except that one time Aran caused a fire in his year’s science laboratory. That was a different story. It was you who went to the school, not Eren.) His little boy needed comfort and probably more pampering from you.
The brunet regarded Caspian with a small smile. “How about we’ll order some takeout from the restaurant you love? We’ll get it with their ice sundae. How does that sound, little man?”
“With extra bananas and cherries?”
Eren grinned, pinching his son’s chin lightly. “With extra bananas and cherries.”
6.
The first days of school were the worst.
Aran was jittering with nerves as he stared at the looming building at the end of the tree-lined pathway. It was imposing in the best and worst way possible. There was no other way to phrase it but it made Aran shake with anxiety. Middle school was a pretty big jump from elementary school. It felt so surreal to think that he was standing at the gates of one of the most prestigious institutions in their city. Aran couldn’t even fathom how he could pass such a difficult series of tests and applications (this school boasted two entrance examinations and two interviews — it was a wild yet horrific experience that had Aran crying inside the car by the time he finished the grueling second interview). These admissions were justified simply because it was the most sought educational institution in their state. It was more than just a science-based school, it was also an extension of the University of Paradis.
This school was pretty big time.
Not to mention that Ezra’s part of the student body and a member of the brightest batch of students to ever grace the school.
Technically, it wasn’t the first day of school but it was the first time he would step inside the gates without worrying about exams and interviews. The worry was more directed at keeping a brave face because Aran is freaking terrified of new beginnings. The school wasn’t even that far from their house (roughly a fifteen-minute drive) but it felt so far away from home at the same time … if that made any sense.
“Ezra, over here!”
Aran was jolted from his trance by a shout of his brother’s name.
Ezra waved a hand to his classmate. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going there!”
“Hurry up because the science club is gathering their members for the orientation! They’re looking for you — it seems like you’re the only one missing.”
The older boy huffed, hopping so that his bag was snugger on his shoulder. He looked up to Eren with a sheepish smile, “Dad, I’ll be going in first.”
“Go ahead, bean. Don’t run!” Eren shouted when Ezra started dashing towards the building, his backpack bouncing at every step.
“I’m not a kid anymore, Dad,” was Ezra’s loud reply.
The man pouted. “But you’re still my little kid.” Speaking of his kids, his secondborn was awfully quiet since they left the house for the new academic year’s orientation. One look from Aran and Eren could tell he was overwhelmed with nerves — Aran looked constipated as hell. Eren smiled a little while placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He pulled him in a side hug, “You okay there, nugget?”
“I’m nervous, Dad.”
“First days of school always got me, too, nugget.”
“Really?” Aran stared at the wistful air surrounding his father. There was a reminiscent facade creeping on Eren’s face as if he was viewing something that nobody could see — a highlight reel that only he could see. One thing that rang true to Aran was those reels might’ve included you and your years with him.
“Yeah,” Eren replied, pulling Aran into a walk underneath the canopy of trees creating tendrils of daylight between its leaves. “Your grandma had to calm me down every time. Apparently, I looked constipated while looking at the intimidating school I’m going to enroll in. Middle school was the worst, too. But your mom made it better. We went to the same school together, you see, along with your Aunt Mikasa and Uncle Armin. They made everything so easy. And when I thought I couldn’t last a day in my school, I think of them going through the same things, and instantly, my day would be better. Maybe you will find people in this school the exact way I found my lifelong friends — [Name], Mikasa, and Armin.”
“But it’s just so scary, Dad.”
“Change is always scary, nugget. But I like to think it’s only in the beginning. Once you adjust to this new school, you’re going to feel like you belong here. It might take you a long while or maybe a few days but trust me, when you do believe that everything is not as scary as it seems, it would feel so awesome.
“Now,” Eren beamed so wide that other people started seeing the sun up close as they glanced in the father-son duo’s way, “let’s take in the clean air in this part of the city and inhale,” he inhaled a large portion of air that the trees rustled with him and Aran, “and exhale it back so that the plants can make their food.” As Eren exhaled, Aran also expelled a large gust of air from his mouth before sharing the former’s large smile. “You feel like going inside there now?” He nodded at the building, which is just a step away.
Aran never noticed that they were getting nearer and nearer until his father pointed it out. His dad really had a way of making time flow faster than it already was. Aran intently stared at the pillars holding up the building, the name, Paradis Middle and High School of Science, gleaming against the just-right sunlight. He breathed deeply once again, his eyes closed, imagining you were here (you were at Caspian’s orientation). Feeling relieved, Aran looked up at Eren. “Yeah, Dad.”
“Then, let’s go!”
“Yeah!”
“You know, nugget, I’m looking forward to lunch. Do you think this orientation thing lasts for the entire morning or not?”
“Dad, we’re still walking towards the auditorium and you want this to end already?”
“Well…”
A lighthearted sigh came out of Aran. His dad is definitely the coolest out there.
It's safe to say that your three kids find solace in you and Eren. And it will stay timeless, very much like the love the three of them have for you two — a love that's reciprocated unconditionally and infinitely as the pinpricks of light in the endless midnight canvas of universes.
#rorywrites#lock/encanto universe ✨#aot x reader#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan imagines#eren x reader#eren x fem!reader#eren x y/n#eren x you#eren jaeger x reader#eren yaeger x reader#eren fluff#dilf eren#eren jaeger x y/n#eren yaeger imagine
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My Personal Simeon Fall AU Headcanons
These are within the same realm of this fic - and it is intended as a Simeon x MC universe! These HCs will focus on his time in the Devildom rather than why he fell, but maybe that information will come eventually...
*some things regarding this war I keep mentioning may not be entirely clear - still working on that! However, I’ll try not to put out too much contradicting information, hehe!
WARNING: some angst, brief mention/implication of torture. forcibly removed memories.
First Days
He came to the devildom in a blaze, much like the brothers did, hurtling down like a shooting star. At the core, encasing him as his wings charred to soot, was a brilliant light blue, rimmed by a dazzling white and platinum gold. At his impact site, parts of the dirt and stone have crystallized in the same colors. The site is still roped off for investigation.
He fell, acting as a white flag for both sides to signal the end of a war very few people knew was raging. The impact sent the last of his holy energy into the surrounding area, and demons near the sight complained of itching and general irritation for weeks after.
The only people at the site who looked into his eyes when he struggled to get up were you, Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Solomon. A few curious Devildom citizens were scattered about, too, but Diavolo's authoritative vibe kept them too far to see anything.
Diavolo and Barbtos kept him in one room in the castle as he adjusted to the sudden demonic energy inside him and learned to contain his wrath. You were allowed to see him, but only if supervised by Barbatos or Diavolo in case Simeon tried to hurt you.
He was despondent most of the time, sitting curled up and stiff in the middle of the bed that looked untouched. He spent days without sleep, simmering with rage. You never found out if he bottled it up or if he destroyed the room but Barbatos put it back together before you appeared.
(You might not ever learn that some of the methods Diavolo and Barbatos used to bring his memories back were...extreme. They had no intentions of torture or pain, but they desperately wanted to get to them if they could. That’s where his anger was used up - as he screamed out in agony, either from the extraction method or the feeling of having lost everything yet not quite grasping what that meant.)
Satan suggested books and sent some of his personal collection that helped him gather himself when he was created. Diavolo and Barbatos tried to jog his memories, both for personal reasons and to get information on the Celestial realm, but that was exactly why they were gone. His memories had been magically extracted, but haste made him forget most everything instead of just sensitive information regarding the realm.
Eventually, he was free to roam the garden and some hallways, and when Diavolo and Barbatos concluded that regaining his memories was impossible, he was housed.
Power & Standing
He was a powerful angel, so he is a powerful demon, yet not quite as powerful as the brothers.
Simeon, for the majority of the war, was fighting on the side of the Celestial Realm, so he's generally disliked among the citizens of the Devildom. Our cast are all weary around him for multiple reasons - aside from Satan, Beel, Solomon, and MC (obviously).
He isn't an official member of any student council or governing body, nor does he really have a final say in anything, but he does frequently act as an advisor of sorts. He tends to work with Barbatos on that front, discussing in the background anything that might need discussed or worked on separate from the brothers.
Simeon is a wrath demon, though the change in his temper is hardly noticeable at first. He resembles Lucifer in how strict he is, mostly when he is in charge of something, and his anger that releases when he isn't listened to mimics Satan's.
If they are near each other and angry about the same thing, Satan and Simeon can actually feed off of the other's anger and boost their power. Satan does NOT need the boost, but you bet he brings chaos and destruction tenfold is he has it. For Simeon, though, it practically puts him on par with some of the brothers, if only for a short while.
Socially, he is generally ignored, and nobody runs away from him if he initiates conversation - but he doesn't. Simeon turns into a bit of a loner, a large chunk of his personality and memories gone and replaced with anger.
He's still learning how to deal with it.
His demon form consists of black deer-like antlers (not small but just small enough to avoid being entirely cumbersome) and long wings with bone-tipped feathers. His wings are almost always folded against his back and hanging low, the dangling feathers reminiscent of his angelic cloak with the golden charms. He does have a little black deer tail but doesn't like it being commented on.
(Don't worry about aerodynamics or which animal he represents, it's a magical universe its fine uwu)
General Information
He lives in modest home on the outskirts of the Devildom, somewhat close to the castle in case there's some type of emergency that needs to be taken care of but not so close he gets a super nice house and causes some social uproar. He has a small yard and a garden he tends to meticulously.
I imagine the house as a sort of townhouse (although not a for real townhouse because its it's own thing), two stories tall. The downstairs has a small living room, kitchen and bathroom while the entire upstairs is an open bedroom/office type deal. It gives off a gothic cottage type of vibe. No idea if this is helpful so maybe one day I'll build it in the sims.
He keeps his house tidy but has many bookshelves filled with equal parts books and knickknacks.
As stated before, he is a wrath demon, and because of his memories being almost entirely erased, he had a similar fall and adjustment period as Satan. Also, as a writer, he has an intrinsic appreciation for books. He and Satan get along the most out of all the brothers - the fact that Lucifer has mixed (mostly negative)(?) feelings about Simeon makes the deal sweeter for Satan.
Beel doesn’t dislike him, and while he doesn’t trust Simeon yet he’s willing to see if Simeon is on their side now considering none of his family got hurt. Solomon still trusts him though, but he does get a little downtrodden when he has memories that Simeon doesn’t.
When angry, Simeon smiles sweetly but his voice turns dead cold. Whereas Satan goes feral and seeks destruction like a bomb, Simeon feels more like a sniper rifle that needs careful aim and precision with just as devastating consequences. Shouting and immediate carnage are rare and only come after a severe transgression.
Otherwise, Simeon allows himself to be more playful than before. He doesn’t exactly have snide remarks, but he is an expert at stating the truth in a way that feels like a blade cutting through your confidence.
In true "flaunt what ya got without really making it seem purposeful" Simeon fashion, he wears button-down shirts that are almost entirely unbuttoned. They are always patterned and funky, and he wears them tucked into black pants. I'm thinking something like this (he also has patterns that are more "groovy" than vacation)
Will also occasionally sport a deep v like this
He still acts just as naive and confused if you bring up how exposed he is to him, so its best just to suffer in silence.
When making a pact with MC, he makes sure the mark covers a scar he left and doesn't remember from the war on your shoulder. It feels like a longer-lasting apology.
He still calls you "little lamb," but instead of smiling gently at you like a loving shepherd, his smiles look like a predator baring his fangs at his prey. In a sweet way. In a hot way.
What Does He Remember?
At first, nothing. Demonic instinct claws at him and he lashes out at everyone and everything.
He is still a nightmare with technology. Nobody knows if this is residual from how he was before, a result of his memories being taken, or just a trick.
Occasionally, he’ll remember an inside joke, but only halfway. You’ll say something you don’t realize is from before, and he’ll laugh, almost like an impulse. But then his laugh trails off and he gets contemplative, wondering what, exactly, was so funny about it.
The brightness of the Celestial Realm is hard to forget. The rainbow framing the palace and vast fields appear in dreams. He never remembers anything ‘important,’ but it’s enough to remind him that he was discarded.
The Celestial War hasn’t gone away, not in its entirety. There are certain things like battle strategies that he can’t for the life of him conjure up in his mind, but he remembers the bulk of it. It helps him realize why some of the brothers were/are so aloof towards him - nothing was ever as simple as he thought it once to be. Fighting a losing battle isn’t a choice you make when its for love - its simply the only path available.
(Apologies are so, so hard to dish out when you can’t remember most of your transgressions, though.)
He remembers Luke and will worry himself to inconsolable tears at night just thinking about him. Those thrown away don’t get the privilege of knowing what happens to their friends - and even if he did, Simeon wouldn't be so stupid as to put a target on Luke's back by proving that he was still important to him.
But he can only remember Luke's terrified, teary eyes when he realized Simeon was going to turn on the Celestial Realm in the middle of a war, and how he pleaded with Simeon not to. Luke asked what he would do all by himself, and Simeon hopes to his Father for only one thing - that he figured it out.
This is his sore spot. Nobody is allowed to be privy to these thoughts, not even you. But some days he comes to RAD looking worse for wear and you KNOW something is bothering him. He'll just never tell you what.
#obey me#obey me simeon#obey me shall we date#obey me swd#swd obey me#swd simeon#simeon x reader#simeon fall au#mine#simeon#simeon x mc
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pretty little liar
Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader
Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.
Genre: College!AU
Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing
Word Count: 4,867
A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️
The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.
You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.
And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.
“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”
You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”
Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”
You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”
She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”
“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”
He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.
Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.
“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”
“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”
Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”
With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”
Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”
You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”
Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”
Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”
“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”
Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.
The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.
And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.
Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.
For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?
Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.
You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.
Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…
If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.
Heh.
Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.
“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”
“Um…”
She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”
“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.
Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.
And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.
“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.
“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”
“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”
It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”
You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”
He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”
“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”
“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”
Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”
You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.
Tequila’s kicking in…
Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”
Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”
This bitch.
Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”
Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.
And then he spoke.
“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”
That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”
His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”
Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”
Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”
Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”
“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.
You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?
Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.
Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.
The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.
It made you feel powerful.
You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.
“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.
He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.
You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.
With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.
“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”
“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.
Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.
He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.
Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.
Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”
“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.
You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.
A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”
It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.
When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.
“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”
The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.
All you could do was try to give as good as you got.
You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.
And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”
Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”
He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”
With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.
You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.
“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”
Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.
Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.
“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”
You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.
Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.
After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.
Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”
You fixed your dress. “Sure.”
“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”
Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”
He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”
It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”
“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”
“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”
Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”
That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”
He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”
You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”
Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”
You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”
The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.
#wayv ten#ten imagines#wayv smut#ten scenarios#ten x reader#ten smut#nct scenarios#ten oneshot#wayv imagines#woc reader#wayv ten imagines#ten lee#wayv au#nct au
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Forbidden - Chapter 2
Summary- Jess couldn't stop thinking about the guy she'd met in the coffee shop, he was drop dead gorgeous, mature and everything she's always wanted but how would she find him again when she didn't even know his name?
Word count- 3.1K
Pairing- Prof!Chris Hemsworth x OC
Warnings- Swearing, slight smut talk
18+ only!
Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.
Posted: 13th August 2021
Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle
Chapter 1
The only thing was, he didn't know I was only twenty and I had no way of finding him again.
If fate did bring us back together, would he mind that I was still a student? That I couldn't even drink when we went on dates?
Who am I kidding? Of course he would mind, he could get any woman he wanted, why would he want me?
"Morning, you feeling any better?" Ellie was awake before me as usual, she spent hours getting ready in the morning and was now sat at her desk finishing her make up.
"I suppose, can't beat myself up forever can I?" I was more the get up and go kind of girl, I could never understand why she'd take hours getting ready just to go to class but I suppose you never know who you're going to bump into.
"No you can not. Not when there's literally thousands of guys here to take your pick of."
"Psh!" I finally pull myself out of bed after thinking about the thought of possibly bumping into my hunk again I changed my mind about making myself a little more presentable.
"What d'ya mean psh?" Ellie turns to look at you, her mascara wand in her hand and only one eye made up, she looked ridiculous. How could you take her seriously looking like that?
"I mean I'm not interested in these childish boys anymore El, I want a man."
"Fuck me, you spoke to the guy for two minutes and already you're acting like you've lost the love of your life." Wow, that hurt a little.
"I didn't say I was talking about him although it would be nice. I just meant I'm sick of playing all these childish games and never knowing where I stand. Don't you get sick of being the one who always falls deeper? Getting messed about and then being the one who's left hurt?" I joined her at the desk, putting on a little mascara and eyeliner. "I want a man who knows what he wants and treats me better. Don't you?"
"Well shit, when you put it like that I can't argue with you. It would be nice, hey I wonder if Mr Aussie has a brother?" She waggles her eyebrows at me, making me laugh. "I gotta go babe, what class you got?"
"My first Comms class this morning." I did not sound excited at the prospect because I really wasn't. I'd put it off in freshman and sophomore years but thought I better get it over and done with before my senior year.
"Oh really? I didn't know you'd taken that class. I heard a load of seniors talking the other day and apparently the Professor is drop dead gorgeous. I was thinking about taking it up too just to see what all the fuss was about."
"Well that should make the class a lot more interesting, maybe it isn't going to be as bad as I thought."
"See, every cloud and all that. See you tonight, fancy the bar?" She shouts over her shoulder as she walks towards the door.
"Sounds good, see you later."
I looked over my outfit I'd already chosen for the day, just some jeans and a plain t-shirt and realised it wouldn't do. Not when there's the prospect of a hot Professor to impress. My wardrobe desperately needed an update, especially now I was focused on finding myself a man and not one of these easily pleased college boys, that were happy with anything as long as I showed a bit of leg and tits. I settled with some tight black jeans with a black, lace-rimmed, cami body suit and a cute little cream, cropped blazer to finish it off. It made me feel confident when I checked myself out in the mirror and if I do say so myself I looked smoking hot. I checked the time on my phone, realising I was going to be late I quickly ran the curling tongs through the ends of my long blonde hair before grabbing my bag and rushing out of the door.
In the hopes of catching the eye of this new professor I'd completely forgotten about the hottie from the coffee shop, which was probably a good thing, it's not like I'm ever going to see him again. I kind of wished I would though, especially when I was looking and feeling this great but hey, on to bigger and better prospects.
I thought that being late would mean I'd be stuck with a lame choice of desk in class but luckily the back row was practically empty and I could hide in the corner of the lecture theatre. I laughed to myself when I realised that practically all the girls were occupying the front desks, obviously they'd heard the rumours too.
I pushed my hair behind my ears and fumbled in my bag for my pen and notepad, when I glanced to the door and caught the eyes of a student I hadn't seen before. I couldn't deny how attractive he was, with his bright blue eyes and floppy hair, oh and that smile. Wow! He smiled brightly at me as he made his way to the back of the class, his eyes glinting, shining like diamonds as he ignored the whispers from the girls at the front. The whole row of desks were free so when he chose the desk right next to me, my stomach fluttered.
I kept my eyes on my notepad, doodling on the front cover so as to avoid that eye contact with him again. I could see a cheeky glint in his eyes and I'd learnt from experience what that meant, trouble. I wasn't ready to get myself back into a situation like that again.
My eyes shot to the front as I heard the room erupt into wolf whistles, the girls at the front giggling and whispering to each other, I rolled my eyes at them, how embarrassing.
Then I realised what all the fuss was about and my heart almost stopped beating, thudding against my chest at an alarming rate. How is this even possible? How the fuck could he be a professor? Surely he's not old enough. Oh fuck.
I sank lower in my chair, willing the ground to just swallow me up or maybe if I got low enough I would escape his notice. No such luck, his eyes scanned the class and when they fell on mine, his face lit up with anger? No not anger. A hunger. His eyes scanned my body, falling over my hair and down to my cleavage. I felt hot under his gaze, was I blushing? Sweating? Oh god, I've never wished for class to be over so much in my life.
My professor was the guy I'd been shamelessly flirting with in the coffee shop. I don't understand how this could be real, I know I wanted to bump into him again but this is such a cruel twist of fate. I'd never even suspected him to be a professor, he was so damn thick and muscly. The clothes he wore were so stylish and he looked way too young to be a professor. He must be so embarrassed that he'd been flirting with a student, I definitely was embarrassed that I'd been flirting with a professor.
I was so panicked, I didn't have a clue what to do in this situation. Squirming in my seat, trying to look anywhere but at the Professor but I could feel his eyes on me as he prepared for the class to start. People were still whispering amongst themselves and I risked a glance in his direction, that made me bite on to my lip to stop myself from screeching. His eyes were still on me, subtly glancing up from the pile of paper he'd just taken out of his bag, his eyebrows furrowed as he studied me. He certainly didn't look embarrassed infact he looked downright feral and the thought of it made my pussy clench, so much so I had to cross my legs under the table.
"I guess you're obsessed with this new Professor too, huh?" The guy next to me leant across his desk to whisper and fuck me if I wasn't imagining it but he was Australian too. Like have we just suddenly had a huge delivery of hot Australian guys arrive at the University? This was just downright unfair, how was I meant to cope?
"No, what makes you say that?" Why did I ask that question? Like it wasn't obvious how much I was sweating and squirming in my seat. Luckily he didn't have time to answer when my eyes were drawn back to the professor as he stood at the front of the class with his hands casually in his pockets and cleared his throat to get our attention.
If I wasn't mistaken, now he looked angry, the muscles in his neck more prominent as he glared between me and the guy next to me.
Was he angry that my attention had been taken away from him and was on another guy? Or because we were talking when we should've been paying attention?
"Now I've got your attention, we're going to use our first session to get to know each other a little better. You'll be doing quite a lot of speeches so it's best if you feel comfortable with one another. I'll start by introducing myself." That sexy accent makes me sweat even more, nevermind the fact that his eyes keep finding their way back to me. "So, I'm Professor Hemsworth and I'm originally from Melbourne in Australia." His eyes meet mine again, a knowing look in them.
"G'day mate." Some idiot from the back shouted, making everyone laugh and I couldn't help but join in a little. Professor Hemsworth smiled at the joke, his eyes creasing in the corners and his smile growing wider when he looked to me and saw me giggling.
"Yeah, very original. Alright, alight, settle down now." His voice is so commanding and authoritive, it's such a turn on. "So, I haven't been here for very long and I'm still getting used to how different things are here. The weather for one." He earned a couple of laughs from people. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, he was so mesmerizing. The way his face animated as he spoke, his eyebrows raising and lips curling.
"I was going to ask you all to go easy on me but that's not going to happen is it?" He got a couple of head shakes and sympathetic looks from the girls. "No, I thought not. Well now it's my turn to torture you. I'll start alphabetically, stand up and tell everyone something about yourself." I swallowed back my fear, this is the reason I'd put off this class until now and as if it wasn't hard enough talking in front of a whole class I now had to do it in front of Professor Hemsworth too.
"Claire Abbott." Fuck. He'd started, at least my name would be one of the last ones.
"Hi I'm Claire." The tall blonde at the front stood up, twirling her hair around her finger and giggling like a child. I rolled my eyes at her and caught the Professor smirk in my direction. "I erm… I don't know what to say?" She looks up at the Professor questioningly.
"Just anything about yourself that we might find interesting, the first thing that comes to mind." He replied.
"Well I own four horses and I'm the cheer captain." I rolled my eyes again, scoffing quietly and Professor Hemsworth had to hold in a laugh as he looked in my direction.
"Talk about predictable." The guy next to me leaned over to whisper to me again.
"Totally." I laughed back at him and when I looked back at the Professor he was glaring straight at us again, his face set sternly.
"You two at the back, we'll wait for you shall we?" Professor Hemsworth said sternly, everyone turned around to look at us but I barely noticed, I was too focused on the way his stern voice made my cunt flutter when he called me out.
I didn't speak for the rest of the class, although I had the urge to, just to hear the way his voice sounded when he was angry. I couldn't concentrate on what the other students were saying, too focused on watching the way the Professor's face changed everytime he looked my way, which was pretty often, to my suprise.
"Jake Hudson." In my peripheral, I saw the guy next to me stand and when he did, Professor Hemsworth's eyes narrowed.
"Hi I'm Jake." He pushed his hands in to his pockets cooly, glancing at me as he did. "I'm also from Australia." He looked at the professor slyly, a smirk forming on his lips, laughing at the other students shouting G'day mate. "I was forced to move here but I'm glad I did because I've just met the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." The class burst into rounds of whistles and cheers as Jake sat down, smiling at me cockily. I could feel my cheeks blushing, I was flattered, he was absolutely gorgeous but hadn't I sworn of boys my own age?
Professor Hemsworth looked even more angry now as he loosened his tie a little, that black tie that draws my view down, like a arrow pointing straight to his cock. I tried to keep my eyes down on my desk, doodling in my notebook so I could avoid that hungry gaze, anxiously waiting for my turn. What the hell was I going to say?
"Jessica Watson." Shit. I stood slowly, trying to give myself more time to think, I couldn't stand everyone's eyes being on me especially the Professors and Jakes.
"Hey, I'm Jessica." I smiled nervously, tucking my hair behind my ear. "These last couple of days have been pretty eventful for me." I looked away from the chalk board so I could search Professor Hemsworth's face. "I'm living the life of a romance novels heroine and I'm excited to see what the next couple of days bring." I sat down keeping the gaze of the professor, I'd forgotten I was in a room full of people until I heard the ooh's and ahh's and my cheeks turned scarlet. The Professor's eyes glowed with heat as he watched me sit down before shaking his head and turning back to the class. Jake also caught my eye as I sat back at my desk, my cheeks still burning, he smiled at me, the kind of smile that crinkles your eyes. I felt kind of bad that he probably thought I was talking about him when in fact I was talking about our professor.
"I hope we all feel a bit more comfortable with each other now, some of you shared some pretty revealing things." He looked at me again. "Some of you, not so much." He raised his eyebrows at a group of guys. "I'll have a schedule for you all next time I see you, anybody that has any questions can see me after class, everyone else is free to leave." His eyes scanned me as he turned around to sit at his desk, I watched a couple of girls approach him predictably.
"Are you going to the party at our frat this weekend?" I had to reluctantly pull my eyes away from the Professor while Jake spoke, so he was a Alpha Kappa, not surprising really.
"Yeah, I think so. My roommate mentioned it."
"Oh good, I'll see you there then. Jessica." He smiled, standing from his seat.
"Jess." I corrected him. I hated being called Jessica, it was so formal.
"Well Jess, I'll see you around." He winked at me as he pulled his backpack on to his shoulder.
There were still a couple of girls taking up the Professor's attention and I wasn't sure yet whether I wanted to sneak past or wait to speak to him. I thought about it for a minute my fingertips drumming against my desk when the girls left and he was alone. As soon as the door closed, his gaze was on me and I could hear the silence in the room like a ringing in my ears. We stayed like that for a couple of seconds, staring at each other, no one saying a word until her cleared his throat. I blinked a couple of times, realising how stupid I must look before getting up from my seat and packing my things away.
"Did you need to talk Miss Watson?" I could hear amusement in his voice as he sat back on his desk casually, his arms folded across his chest.
"I erm…" I walked towards him, my legs feeling like jelly all of sudden and trying not to fall down the stairs. "I wanted to apologise, I had no idea you were a Professor." I said as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I didn't know what to do with myself but I was nervous about getting closer to him. He made the atmosphere feel tense, like if I was to reach out and touch him I would burn my fingers so I stood awkwardly at the bottom of the steps.
"There's no need to apologise Miss Watson, I also had no idea you were a student but I was hoping to bump into you again. Funny how things work out isn't it?" He cocked his eyebrow at me, still looking amused as he watched me squirm. When he said he'd been hoping to bump into me again it made me feel more confident, like I wasn't imagining the way he'd been looking at me for the last hour.
"I think fate can be rather cruel Professor Hemsworth." I smiled at him as I finally closed the distance between us, watching his eyes flare with hunger when I called him Professor.
"Oh really? Why is that Miss Watson?" His eyes narrowed, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat as I got close enough to touch him, I didn't though. I didn't dare break that boundary, not yet.
I smiled at him through my lashes, biting on to my lip. "I was hoping to bump into you again too, only now the thought of what could've happened will have to remain a fantasy." Wow! I was not expecting that, did I sound like a slut? Shit. I looked back up at him and caught him gulp, that hunger in his eyes shining, his pupils blown with lust, he loosened his tie even more and I caught a glimpse of his smooth chest and chickened out. The tension was way too much and I was about to do something I was going to regret, I could live with being a huge tease instead.
"I better get to my next class, we can't have anyone thinking I'm your favourite now can we?" I smiled to myself when I noticed the muscles in his jaw tense as he ground his teeth together. Turning to leave I looked back over my shoulder and his eyes were glued to my hips, watching them sway as I walked and I realised I had him exactly where I wanted him but was it worth the risk?
#smut#chris hemsworth#chris hemsworth fanfic#chris hemsworth smut#chris hemsworth x reader#chris hemsworth x you#chris hemsworth x oc#chris Hemsworth x ofc#chris Hemsworth series#thor series#thor smut#thor x you#chris Hemsworth#chris hemsworth fic#chris hems x you#chris hems x oc
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Etched Words
Characters: Xiao x gn!reader
Word Count: 2,920
Warnings: None
Premise: He'd long given up the idea. No one should be stuck with him, and fate would never be so kind to do so, no so cruel to punish someone in such a way. And yet you'd appeared, and now he didn't know what to do.
In which the reader’s familiarity is written on Xiao’s sleeve.
Author’s Note: Originally wasn’t going to write this tonight since I was afraid of how long this was going to be but oops. I love soulmate AUs, they’re probably the fic that I make up in my head the most, there’s just so much potential for it.
Xiao I’m sorry I’ve neglected a oneshot for you for so long, hope you forgive me and hope everyone who reads this enjoys!
Xiao would never admit the real reason that he was determined to wear a sleeve around one of his arms. Part of it was tradition, he’d worn it since Rex Lapis had first commanded him to fight, and even if those days of war were long forgotten to most the memories still burned bright to him. He couldn’t bring himself to completely lose that legacy, even in terms of what he wore. To those who knew him that was assumed to be the only reason; but every once in a while, when he was perhaps feeling weak enough, Xiao would lift up his sleeve to read the words snaking across his forearm.
What a lovely little bird, don’t you think? Those words haunted him, tearing apart his thoughts for certain lengths of time, filling his head with a sense of resentment and melancholy.
The last thing Xiao wanted was a soulmate. Soulmates were something destined for humans, those who could live life ducking most of its horrors, those who could feel passionately and indulge in the feeling of love without sorrow or guilt. Most important of all humans would never have to experience the feeling of losing one’s soulmate forever, and living on for millennia afterword with only memory and regret to keep them company. It was a curse to give an immortal being a soulmate, especially one such as Xiao, who battled every day with the chains of his past, with the acts he’d committed and the darkness he’d almost fallen into. No one, mortal or immortal, deserved a soulmate such as he, and Xiao for his part thought he didn’t deserve such a curse. Let him deal with his affairs alone, he didn’t want a punishment like this.
Besides, Xiao had long ago come to the conclusion that he was never to meet his soulmate. So long had it been since those words had been etched onto his skin that he was sure they must’ve been the mutterings of someone who’d long passed him by, or someone who’d never managed to say those words at all. After all, being destined to fall in love with someone wasn’t a guarantee that one would live that long, and fate could be so easily twisted and bent. Yes, his soulmate must be long dead. Perhaps they’d been a worshipper of long ago, or perhaps they’d been nothing at all. Perhaps they’d died in one of the wars in which the yaksha had participated in and perhaps they’d lived to a ripe old age, never once uttering that phrase which haunted him. Either way they were dead and gone, and Xiao didn’t want the reminder of that. He certainly didn’t want others to know, to look down upon him with pity.
So he kept it hidden, and though the words sometimes haunted him at least he had the certainty that they would never be spoken in his presence. Even if a small part of him doubted, and hoped for a miracle.
------
There was a new guest and the Wangshu Inn, and one that was most likely going to be staying for a while. Or so Xiao heard that morning as Verr Goldet checked on the breakfast and made the rounds. He liked Goldet, respected her for her ethic and her wry sense of humor, even if he loathed it being turned upon himself. She was intensely practical in nature, and always had a sense of what was important and what was ultimately not. So the mention of a new and mysterious guest stuck with him the whole day, and though he spent most of his time away from the Inn, he couldn’t help but turn Goldet’s words over in his mind, wondering if they would truly turn out as important as she made them seem.
It had been a busy day for Xiao, as Liyue was still reeling from its attempted destruction and negotiations between the adepti and the Qixing were long and arduous. The meal afterwards was even more so and if it weren’t for the traveler Xiao most likely wouldn’t’ve attended in the first place. By the time he made his way back to his usual spot on the balcony of the Inn he was tired and irritable, so much so that he only noticed he wasn’t invisible when you spoke after him, and after that he was too far gone to really register that fact.
“What a lovely little bird, don’t you think?” You were leaning on the railing, staring up at a nightingale, who was chirping away. “They’re so cute aren’t they, and they have such a classical sort of call. It’s really so peaceful.” You sighed for a moment, a sigh of contentment, and once more focused your gaze back to Xiao, smiling a slightly embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry the familiarity, I don’t believe I’ve met you yet.”
It was more of a question than a statement, but at that point Xiao could barely process what you’d just said, and the question itself was lost in the swirl of emotions he felt. Disbelief and shock were the primary emotions, for who could imagine you were real and not a figment of his imagination, but there were other emotions too; longing, frustration, fear, guilt. They all mingled together, reminding him of why he’d both longed for a moment like this and wished for it never to come. And now it was here, here and all too much. Letting out a gasp of breath that meant nothing at all Xiao vanished into the night, cheeks burning with shame as a part of him cried out that he’d just made the greatest mistake of his life.
At first Xiao had planned to avoid the Inn completely, to wait until he knew you were gone and then try to get back the semblance of normalcy that had been completely destroyed. He quickly realized however that it would be impossible to do so. The Inn had become a sort of refuge for Xiao, a familiar place where he could listen to the soft sounds of humanity in the evening and of the wilderness at night, where he didn’t have to worry about sudden changes in weather or running into treasure hoarders or monsters. Besides he’d underestimated the power of meeting one’s soulmate. And by the next morning Xiao was sure that he was going to finally drive himself to insanity if he didn’t go back and see you.
Not that you were there when he returned, for the sun was up and you’d already packed your things, going off to do whatever you did in the daytime. The hours stretched on and on for Xiao, but he attempted to busy himself by walking along the familiar valleys of Jueyun Karst, the familiar atmosphere grounding him as best it could while his mind spun this way and that.
You were real. You were alive and you had spoken to him and you were real. If the feeling of wanting to know you had suddenly appeared then so too had the feeling of overwhelming loneliness, a sudden realization of how dreary, how heavy all the years of his life had been. Xiao had acquaintances, allies, even friends, but those bonds had faded long ago, made weak by death or war or even the long peace that existed now. Even if he was grateful for the peace, he knew that it had made him lonely; all the adepti stayed within their domains and Rex Lapis had disappeared into the city, a place Xiao could never imagine dwelling in. There were humans of course, pilgrims, thieves, the curious mixing with the pious, mixing with the lost. But they were separate from him, and he had long ago developed a total disinterest in regards to most of their requests. He protected Liyue, not the interests of its citizens. And even if he had wished to mingle with them he knew that it would most likely bring them only despair, as curses clung to him and no matter how much he tried he’d never be able to exorcise them.
And yet you were human. Only now the thought truly cemented itself in Xiao’s mind. You were human, of course you were human. Fate would never be so kind as to simply drop you at his doorsteps, smiling and willing to talk and immortal on top of it; no you’d been born mortal, and in that fact Xiao saw only ruin. He might very well destroy you, for though he’d not truly spent enough time with mortals to see the long term effects of his karma might be, he could hardly imagine it to be pleasant. Even if he didn’t kill you time would. And then where would he be? If he already felt somewhat attached to you now, how would he feel then, after you’d truly gotten to know one another? The idea terrified Xiao so completely that for a moment he felt as if he was drowning. You were human. Why were you human.
Despite this Xiao couldn’t help but feel some sense of relief, even happiness, when you appeared on the balcony again that evening. You leaned against the railing for a bit, but eventually grew tired and went inside. Xiao’s disappointment however was negated when you came back, a chair in one hand a book in the other. Sitting down you opened the book on your lap, but instead of reading it you stared out into the night. And, eventually, you began to speak.
“The innkeeper tells me that what happened yesterday was normal. I’m so sorry I scared you in that way, or perhaps that I approached you so casually. I hadn’t realized you were an adeptus you see, although perhaps that was a stupid mistake on my part, as you hardly seem like a normal person. I’m sorry either way. She also told me that you were often up here in the evenings, so hopefully I’m not talking to myself.” You let out an embarrassed sort of laugh, Xiao loved nothing so much as your laugh in that moment, before continuing. “I don’t know if I’m talking to myself right now, but I do have something for you. I found it on my way here, and though it’s probably common enough here I thought it was pretty. I hope you like it.”
The next day nothing had moved from where you’d left it, and to your disappointment the Qingxin had gotten utterly soaked in the morning rain.
Xiao knew he should say something, knew that it was incredibly rude to leave your gift untouched. But he couldn’t help it, couldn’t break down the walls that he’d built up for so long. Not that he could completely stay away either. It’d become a routine of some sorts, to come back to the Inn each night and listen to you speak. You were always there, even when the heat became near unbearable or when you came back so late that it was closer to sunrise than sunset. Even then you still spared at least ten minutes to talk into the dark. Xiao wasn’t sure why you were doing so, although he somewhat suspected Goldet in the matter, nor could he tell why you were waiting for him, being hardly versed in the idea of soulmates and unsure whether you’d realized it or not. Regardless of how or why, the tradition still continued, Xiao silent, you filling said silence with words or laughter or sighs. And at least once a week there was a gift. Though Xiao never touched it and eventually Goldet would come and collect it or it would scatter in the wind.
“I have an idea!” Your voice was filled with excitement today and, as if to match it, you’d abandoned the chair, instead bouncing up and down slightly on your toes as you stared out into the sky. “I’m going to do something for you tomorrow, okay. So be sure not to come back until after sunset, or it won’t be a surprise.”
At first Xiao had been completely set on ruining your surprise, after all he disliked being thrown off guard, and you were hardly close enough an acquaintance for him to consider making an exception. The knowledge that the latter half of his reasoning was completely his fault however managed to keep him away, though he stubbornly refused to come back until a half an hour after sunset.
The balcony was the same as ever, and at first Xiao wondered if you’d hadn’t given up on whatever you’d been scheming. However he quickly became aware of what the surprise was when you came into view, a slightly bashful smile on your face and a plate of Almond Tofu in your lap instead of the usual book or weapon when it needed cleaning.
For once Xiao didn’t think about how Goldet had definitely tipped you off, or how he shouldn’t talk to you, or how you were so oddly persistent. He felt his invisibility fall off of him, as if he’d shed a coat or a second skin. Footsteps causing the wood to creak slightly he watched as you jumped for a moment, having obviously been daydreaming, before smiling widely.
“I’ve heard you like Almond Tofu!” You smiled, reaching the plate out towards the yaksha. Silently taking it Xiao stepped back a bit. You did nothing in response to the gesture, merely sitting there, hands folded in your lap and face full of anticipation.
The dish tasted wonderful, perfectly sweet and melty it seemed somewhat distinct, although why Xiao couldn’t really tell. Eating piece after piece he savored the flavor, for it’d really been quite a long time since he’d been offered Almond Tofu, and whether it was your cooking style or the fact you were the chef he couldn’t help but feel as this batch had come out better than the rest. Xiao couldn’t help himself. Looking up at you he let out a soft smile.
“I’m glad you like it!” You exclaimed, face bright with triumph. Standing up you walked slowly over towards Xiao, hand once more reaching out to take the plate. Instead of letting you take it however Xiao walked into the Inn and placed it on the nearest table. Coming out onto the balcony once more he crossed his arms.
“If you stay close to me you’ll die.”
This, instead of having any sort of negative effect on you, instead caused your eyes to widen, and your smile with it. Bouncing up and down once more you giggled slightly.
“So it really is you.” And, before Xiao could say anything, you turned around, hiking up the sleeve on one of your shoulders. Xiao didn’t need to lean in to make out the spidery lettering that trailed down towards your forearm. He wasn’t surprised in what he saw. If you stay close to me you’ll die.
Honestly, what does one do in a situation like this? Xiao couldn’t tell, having so long abandoned hope of something like this happening. Yet even while his mind reeled once more from the confirmation his legs didn’t. Stepping softly towards you, slightly weary, he reached out and traced the letters on the back of your shoulder, as if trying to convince himself it was real.
“May I see yours?” You said, turning around suddenly. Although your question was direct your tone had somewhat softened, and a slight blush dusted you cheeks. Nodding Xiao lifted up his sleeve, and your fingers ghosted over your words in turn. “I never knew what to think of those words, once I become aware of them,” you smiled softly, “but I’m so glad now I’ve found out.”
“They’re true.” Xiao spoke firmly, fear at the forefront of his thoughts. “You don’t know my past, my burden. Fate hasn’t been kind to you, and I might very well kill you.”
“I’ve read about your supposed curses.” You replied, leaning towards him slightly despite his words. “But you said ‘might very well’ not definitely. And besides,” you shrugged, “I want to trust in fate.”
“Why?” Xiao let out a bitter laugh. “Fate is hardly kind.”
“I don’t know, it brought me to my soulmate after all. If fate were so cruel, surely it would never do such a thing.”
“You’re acting reckless.” The words might’ve been a rebuke but Xiao couldn’t find it in him to be harsh. How much he’d underestimated what it’d be like to meet one’s soulmate. Well, he’d never do so again.
“Perhaps, but I’d like to stay and get to know you better regardless.” You stared at him, eyes both somehow piercing and soft. They were beautiful, your eyes, Xiao could drown in them and hardly notice.
“Very well.” Perhaps not the kindness of concessions, but nevertheless you smiled. Pausing for a moment you reached up and wrapped your arms around him. After a moment Xiao returned the gesture, too caught up in your gentle grasp to want to resist.
Was fate kind? Xiao couldn’t tell. He’d been so sure he’d never find a partner, never some he could call his home, his anchor. And yet it had come to pass, and though Xiao was afraid, so desperately afraid, he also was hopeful. How could he not be? The last thing Xiao had wanted was a soulmate, but now that he’d met you, he never wanted to be without you again.
Both your phrases faded over time. But your love never did.
#first time trying beta posting#hopefully it goes well#this is so self-indulgent#xiao#xiao x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact fanfiction#oneshot#my writing
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illicit affair;
full masterlist
Pairings: Professor!Andy Barber x female!reader (AU)
Word count: 2,898
Warning: SMUT!!!! fingering, blowjob (male receiving), dirty talk. (MUST BE 18+)
Summary: you had been crushing on your sexy professor, Andy Barber since the beginning of the semester but he made it hard for you to focus in class. lucky for you, he was willing to give you the best lesson in your life though.
a/n: this one’s written for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817‘s shameless hoes for chris writing challenge. i picked the prompt “your professor has a different kind of extra credit in mind.” hope you like it! leave a like and comment. enjoy!
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
There he goes again, captivating the entire room with that dashing suit and tie, making it difficult for you to breathe. Andy Barber was the professor of your criminal law class. To say he was attractive would be an understatement. The man is the living embodiment of every girl’s wildest dreams. When you first took the class, with the hopes of becoming a social worker, you didn’t expect it to be this challenging. You were confident in your own work ethic and in being a fast learner. No major was too onerous for you to ace.
Until Andy Barber walked into the class on that first day and you realized he was going to teach you for the entire semester.
You had never had a man spellbinding you this badly before. You had a few crushes here and there, but not once did they make you feel the way Andy Barber does. And you knew that it was inappropriate to lust after your professor but, it wasn’t a crime if he is a divorcé and the whole class could relate, right?
It wasn’t only wrong but it was also cruel and unfair that he succeeded in making you lose every bit of your focus whenever he was around. No matter how hard you try to pay attention to what he is lecturing about, your mind would always drift away to nasty places that you shouldn’t even be thinking about visiting. No matter how hard you try to simply open your laptop and type away the vital points that you would need to memorize for final exams, you just couldn’t. It’s like you were paralyzed by his magnetism and oh, how well did he do it.
Like how you currently had a pen stuck between your teeth as if you were fellating it because you were imagining what it would be like to have those plump lips of his on yours and so your pen had to take the beating.
You didn’t know whether he noticed you at all from where you were sitting, you always choose to sit in the middle row, where you could still see things clearly on the board but you didn’t have to feel so exposed because sitting on the front row means everyone who sat behind you could see every movement you make and you would have to deal with the uneasiness of the proximity between you and your professor gave you and you had no wish to make it worse for yourself.
It wasn’t only that he was insanely good-looking but he was also a gentleman. He always charmed the class with his humorous comments and witty jokes while he was doing a lecture or simply when he called out a student who fell asleep. He always made himself available for his students who were confused about the subject or needed guidance on some complex topics. He always greeted the class with a warm smile and he always tried to understand the struggles of being a college student.
You had lost count on how many filthy dreams you had about this man, and how many daydreams you had lost yourself in during his class or simply when you were wide awake. He truly got you on a chokehold. A part of you would sometimes wonder, how could anyone divorce this man? If he were your husband, you would feel like the luckiest woman on earth. You wouldn’t ask for anything else in life.
“Any question…?” He ended today’s session by allowing the students to raise their hands if they needed some enlightenment.
Several students raised their hands and presented their questions and he answered them all eloquently. When there was no more question asked, he dismissed the class and all of the students got out of their seats and exited the room. You were still stuck amidst of your fantasy where Professor Barber was devouring you like you were the last tasty meal on earth and he hadn’t been fed for a month. The thought of his mouth lapping your juices as his beard creating delicious friction on your inner thigh alone was enough to soak your panties.
You didn’t realize that the class was over until everyone had left and your professor called out your name. There were only the two of you now in the room.
“Y/N? Y/N! Class is dismissed.” He shook you out of your daydream with the gentleness of his voice.
“Uh, yeah, sorry, sir I was- I’m gonna leave now.”
“Are you alright? You zoned out a little there.”
“Yeah, I’m okay, I just- I… I was thinking… of… finals. Yeah, I was thinking of finals.”
“If you need a brief tutor, I wouldn’t mind.”
“No, no! It’s fine, really, I’ll manage. Have a good day sir.” You hurriedly pack up your laptop and stationery and you immediately ran for the door. But you were abruptly stopped by his voice that had slightly shifted its tone.
“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Miss Y/L/N, do you have a minute?”
Oh shit. This is it. This is where he is going to interrogate you for always being absentminded throughout his entire session and you are probably going to say something really idiotic and you are going to embarrass yourself or you might even spill your own secrets and he is going to get you suspended and then-
“Yes, sir.” You swallowed the lump in your throat.
“Come here, have a seat.” He pulled a chair from one of the tables and placed it across his seat.
You nervously approached him and sat down as your hands trembled because if there’s another word to describe Andy Barber, it would be intimidating. His charisma isn’t only appealing but could also conquer his interlocutors.
“I’ve noticed that your grades have been slipping lately, why is that?”
“I just- I don’t know, maybe I’ve been really tired, sir. College can be really stressful.”
“I understand. But what puzzles me is that I did some background check on you and your grades in other subjects are doing really well. In fact, you had kept a solid 4.0 GPA for two years in a row now. So, what is the problem here, y/n?”
You gulped. Fucking hell, how the hell were you supposed to answer that? “Oh, don’t worry, it’s simply you being so ridiculously hot that you have been distracting me every time you’re lecturing. Maybe, I don’t know, if you could just bend me over on your desk and make me your girlfriend, that might help me take my mind off you.”
“I just- I’ve had a lot in my mind, sir, and it’s just- this subject is really hard,” you spoke meekly. “I promise, I will work really hard on my finals, sir. I won’t let you down.” You hoped that it was convincing enough so that you could carry on with your day and not sit here like a scared mouse.
“Final starts in two weeks,” he reminded you. “How are you going to convince me that you could wrap an entire semester within only two weeks when you have other courses demanding equal attention, y/n?”
“Um, I don’t know, maybe I’ll ask a friend to help me study. I’ll do whatever it takes to pass the test, sir. I give you my word.” Goddamnit, what the hell was he doing to you? Of course, you weren’t going to ask for anybody’s help, you were always the one who was giving help to your fellow classmates instead of needing one. Now you were just making silly excuses to get you out.
His brows furrowed. You knew he wasn’t going to buy your answer so easily. Andy took his job very seriously and it disappointed him to the extreme when one of his students wasn’t doing well in his course. It made him feel like he didn’t do enough in educating these young people. So when one of his students didn’t fulfil his expectations, he was going to address it and solve the problem together.
There was a silence that lingered between the two of you until he broke it off, “how far are you willing to go to pass this class, y/n?”
“Anything sir, I-, I care about my grades. I know I don’t show it enough but I won’t fail you this time.”
“Anything?” Suddenly, the expression on his face transitioned into something impish.
“Yeah, anything at all, sir.”
“How about I offer you a proposition?” His tone was sultry.
“You do something for me, and I’ll make sure you get an A+ on your test. You don’t have to worry about failing.”
“What do you have in mind, sir?”
Instead of giving you a direct answer, he stood up from his seat and sat on the edge of the table. His hands were folded on his propped up thigh.
“I’m gonna ask you one more time, y/n and I want an honest answer. No bullshit or the deal is off.”
You were taken aback by the word that he just used. It wasn’t very in-character of him to cuss, especially in front of a student. You didn’t know if he was a completely different man outside of the university, so this was certainly something you weren’t used to.
“O-okay…”
“Why are you failing in my class, y/n?”
You bit your lip so hard you thought it might bleed. Your lips quivered as tears began brimming in your eyes. You were scared of telling him the truth but you knew if you lie again, he would see right through you and you would end up failing his class for real and there will be no second chance. You refused to retake the same course next semester when you could be getting closer to getting your degree.
You drooped your head down in defeat. The eye contact was overwhelming you and you sucked it up and gathered every last bit of dignity you had in you to give him an answer.
“I… I’m attracted to you, sir.”
He nodded. What you didn’t see was a wicked smirk forming on his lips, as if he knew what he was going to hear when he made you confess. “Go on.”
“I can’t stop thinking about- about making love to you, sir.” you stuttered your words. You cringed at your own words. There was no way to unring the bell now. You just humiliated yourself in front of the person whose attention you wanted the most. He disclosed your dirtiest secrets and this was going to be your doom.
“Good girl. Now, we better not stall any longer, yeah? I’ve got another class in twenty minutes.” He sat back on the chair and ordered, “get on your knees.”
“Wh… What?”
“You heard me. On your knees, I won’t tell you anymore.” his tone sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t know what was happening but you were excited. You got on your feet and before you could even take a step, he stopped you. “No, no. Crawl.”
You stared at him incredulously as if he had just told you a joke. But you did what you were told to anyway, fearing that you would disappoint him before the act could even begin. You got on your knees with your hands on the floor and crawled to between his spread knees.
You waited for his next instruction with your hands on your thighs as your head hung low. “Take off my pants.”
Without further delay, you undid the zip of his pants and pulled the waistband down along with his boxer briefs, just enough to let his enormous cock spring free. “Good girl. You listen well. Now… you know what to do.” He rested his forearms on the arms of the chair and leaned back on the headrest nonchalantly whilst still maintaining his gaze on you.
Shit, you always fantasized about him using your body but you weren’t actually experienced. Yes, you’ve had a few casual hookups now and then, but it was nothing like this. Your professor who seemed to really enjoy turning you into a puddle by simply commanding you around like his own personal sex slave.
“C’mon, sweetheart, don’t act like you haven't watched porn.”
You start by doing what you had learned from a few pornographic videos which is by stroking him with your hand and then you wrap your lips around his shaft. The taste of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva made you moan. His hand then went to grab a fistful of your hair to push you forward until his tip hits the back of your throat.
“Ah, fuck. That’s better.” Then he took the wheel from there, using your hair as leverage to guide you up and down at a moderate pace. He grunted as he threw his head back against the headrest. “Shit, that’s good. Keep going, baby.” A part of you was a tad elated when he praised you for something you had very little experience in. The ecstatic look on his face amplified the dampness in your panties, your body begging for more. He kept using your face to get himself off and you felt him convulsed in your mouth. He quickened his motion and then released deep inside your throat.
A few seconds later, he pulled himself out after his cum painted your trachea. “Get up and bend on the table,” you did what he says and pressed your cheek on the wooden surface. “Who knew a 4.0 GPA student like you would be such a dirty slut? You might fool everyone but you can’t fool me, baby.”
He lifted the hem of your plaid skirt and smacked your buttocks with both of his hands, leaving a fiery red handprint on your buttcheeks. You yelped as it echoed on the walls. He pushed aside the crotch of your underwear, and he inserted two of his fingers inside soaked holes, scissoring you wide open for him. You moaned in pleasure as you gripped the edge of the table.
“Fucking slut. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this wet for me?” You didn’t answer as you continued to cry out. He smacked your left bum once more, “answer me!”
“Yes! Yes, sir.” You stammered between your ragged breathing.
“Is this why you can’t get your shit together? ‘Cause you keep fantasizing about my fingers buried deep in your needy cunt?”
“Yes sir…” your voice quaked.
“Extra points for honesty.” He retreated his fingers and replaced it with his cock. The unwarned intrusion sent a jolt through your body. You squealed in shock as you closed your eyes, trying to adjust yourself to his size. “Ah fuck, you’re so tight.” His hand went to your hair once more and grabbed a fistful of it as he began driving his hips forward. The friction in your G-spot sent electricity through your veins.
He didn’t waste any time by picking up the pace as he lifted your head and brought it closer to his, making you look up to him. “Does that feel good, baby? Is this how you imagined?” He kept thrusting brutally in between his foul words. “yes… Sir. You feel so good around me.” He pecked a brief kiss on your lips and kept pounding you like an animal.
A few more violent strikes and you clenched around him, pushing him to the edge along with you. “Cum baby, show me what a dirty whore you are.” You shut your eyes as you felt the tightening coil in your belly and then it burst, your orgasm dripping all over your thighs. Andy was so close to his climax and a few more deep-seated thrusts, he reached his own and he ejaculated deep inside your womb.
You tried to regain control over your breathing with Andy still engulfed in you. A few minutes later, you both came down from your highs as Andy pulled himself out of you. He put his pants back on and threw himself back on the chair. You stood up on your wobbly legs as you felt your panties squelch with both yours and Andy’s cum blended.
You straighten your rumpled skirt and shirt, as Andy did so with his tie. “You should go, don’t you have another class?”
“I do, but… Did I pass the test, sir?” you batted your lashes at him. The fear and agitation that were there ten minutes ago had dissolved.
He chuckled at your coquettish remark. He stood up from his chair and closed the distance between you. “Yes sweetheart, you passed the test.”
You beamed as you bit your lip once more. “If you got another test for me, I wouldn’t mind…” you spoke timidly.
“You really are something, aren’t you?”
You shrugged, “I’ve got layers, sir.”
He looked at his watch and realized that he only had five minutes left for his next session. “You are dismissed… For now. I’ve got more lessons that I’d like to teach you, baby.” He winked at you and pecked your lips.
“I’ll be looking forward to our next class, sir.” You packed up your bags and exited to the hall. Looks like you just bent every rule of the university, but you had no doubt in mind that you would do it over and over and over again for your favourite professor.
#andy barber#andy barber x reader#andy barber x y/n#andy barber x you#andy barber au#andy barber smut#andy barber fluff#andy barber fanfic#andy barber imagine#andy barber fic#andy barber one shot#professor!andy barber#chris evans smut#chris evans x reader#chris evans fanfic#chris evans imagine#chris evans#shamelesshoesforchris#defending jacob
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Oooooo the red bock au sounds so interesting! Does Five caught himself thinking of his brothers just as numbers and weapons like Reginald talks in his book? Does he read Vanya book to remind himself that they are still human even though he reads it through lens of someone hurt by them all? And I feel like the handler would know either way about the books but o it's so much fun to see five being paranoid
I think having both books and both perspectives reminds Five that... he’s getting some very biased accounts of his own siblings. I think that when he’s still young, he writes down as many memories as he can remember because... he starts to forget, at some point.
Vanya’s book talks about how volatile Diego and Luther’s relationship is, and so Five writes down the time Luther and Diego teamed up to toss Five off a balcony when Five kept switching the pens in their hands with pipe cleaners during a lesson (and he will maintain until his dying day that he was just practicing his control, c’mon guys!)
when Reginald’s notes call Allison an “insufferable, narcissistic creature,” Five remembers Allison bribing him to cause trouble and distract Reginald so that she could use the microwave unobserved to heat up some water bottles as makeshift heat packs for Luther’s sore muscles
when Vanya calls Ben “easily manipulated,” Five recalls Ben arguing theories with him at 2am after one of Ben’s training sessions where Ben almost flipped his bed when Five jokingly suggested that he could use the horror’s tentacles to bounce up and down like a pogo stick before Ben tackled him and tried to beat Five to death with an encyclopedia of sea creatures (affectionately)
I think having Reginald’s journal actually helps in a lot of ways, because Five automatically autocorrects literally all of Reginald’s thoughts to be like, mostly inaccurate and much harsher than they need to be. So when he reads Vanya’s journal he also autocorrects and is able to recognize that it is a very biased and somewhat harsh view of his siblings
(he doesn’t distrust them as much as he does in canon, with only Vanya’s harsh words to cling to with no reminder that they were all raised by a man capable of unfathomable cruelty, no reminder that authors can be oh so biased)
outside of his equations, there’s notes to himself written in the margins of Vanya’s book. Sometimes they’re just small, pointing out that Klaus had fought to include Vanya in trap week (Klaus then proceeded to team up with her and managed to catch Five in a snare - he actually still has a scar around his ankle from his upsidedown thrashing before he managed to steal one of Diego’s knives to cut himself down) or pointing out that Luther’s chilly attitude when they were ten was probably the result of Vanya outperforming him in every standardized test they took because of Luther’s ridiculous inferiority-superiority complex
at the very least he has comparison, because Reginald’s book calls Klaus an absolute failure while Vanya’s book called him “sweet, as a child at least”
As for the Handler... she’s aware that he has Vanya’s book and a red notebook, but I don’t think she actually knows what’s in the red notebook! Reginald was notoriously secretive, after all
So the Handler assumes that the red notebook is where Five keeps his time travel equations because aw, he hasn’t given up! how cute!
She makes an assumption that, logically, makes sense. Of course Five is still trying to figure out time travel, no matter how much he denies it! Of course he’s writing the equations down! What a silly boy, thinking that he could hide this from her, of course she knows about his little plans to save his siblings ;3c
And because she’s so powerful and knowledgeable and one step ahead all the time, she makes an assumption and assumes that it is fact. Because she’s so smart, of course she isn’t wrong! She’s had Five clocked from day one!
(The Handler thinks she has Five all figured out, a creature so based in sentiment. Why would he carry a book around that details the torture his siblings went through? He hates his father, why would he ever carry around his father’s notebook! The Handler has a fatal flaw, and it is that she doesn’t understand loyalty and sneers at sentiment and those are two of Five’s most powerful driving factors. Five lives for his siblings and would die for his siblings, almost his entire life has been dedicated to saving them. Not the world, just his family.)
(She understands that Five considers his family to be exceptionally valuable, but doesn’t comprehend that Five is 100% willing to die for them should it come down to it. Why on earth would anyone value something like siblings over their own life? Absurd. I genuinely believe that the Handler thinks she could get Five to betray his siblings with the right leverage, and so she fundamentally does not understand Five as a person)
To be fair to the Handler, the whole academy’s morals and just. completely and utterly fucked. Luther condemns the murder of innocent civilians even if it would save the planet but doesn’t blink an eye at killing the ‘bad guy’ Commission agents. Diego stabs criminals as a pastime while still holding himself at a moral high ground for saving people, despite the fact that too many criminals are forced into crime by unfair circumstances. Allison used her powers to bolster her career without even blinking but now refuses to use her powers at all because of the manipulation of one (1) child, not even against ‘bad guys.’
I mean. Vanya wrote an entire salt book without consulting her siblings that had lasting impacts on at least one of her sibling’s career in the public eye and potentially impacting her siblings relationships with everyone who had every read the spark notes on her book, without the opportunity for reprisal. Publishing your entire family’s dirty laundry as personal emotional catharsis is... kind of a dick mood, lets be real. Especially when you were all abused children raised in an environment of excessive violence and rigid structure.
Like yeah, of course Allison is good at manipulation and lying - she grew up with an abusive and over-controlling father. She probably lied as easily as breathing about where she’d been, who she was with, what she was doing, etc. The only privacy they got in that household was what they seized with their own hands and carved out for themselves! Is it fair to say that Allison’s superpower is dishonestly?
Is it fair to say that Klaus got crueler as he grew? He was tortured and turned to drugs as an unhealthy coping mechanism, and then he sat down at a table and looked at all the other little kiddies who did not get locked into a crypt overnight. In fact, there was one child who never got any extra training at all! Can you imagine the jealousy? The bitterness? Klaus might have been exceptionally cruel to Vanya as a teenager, she had everything he wanted and dared to complain about it. Can you imagine listening to someone wistfully wish they could join in on missions when you know that the cost for doing so has been carved out of your soul?
My point is, none of these little bitches have anything that resembles a sane moral compass. They’re unpredictable as fuck! It’s like herding cats! You never know what they’re going to do next! Oh? Are they going to investigate in any logical pattern? No, because Diego just remembered Patch exists and helping her print flyers for the annual police ball is more important than saving the world or whatever lol
Luther is over there investigating the moon! The moon! Meanwhile Allison is breaking and entering her sister’s student’s house because she got shady vibes off of him one time and she has never heard of a proportionate action in her life.
Meanwhile Vanya is going through the phone book trying to call up psychiatrists who have any familiarity with whatever fucked up meds Dad put her on because like, she would like to Not Be On Them (fuck you dad) but also understands that danger of quitting cold turkey something you have been taking for years and would like a professional opinion on how to safely decrease and eventually eliminate her usage, thanks (Klaus is hanging over her shoulder pointing out the ones who will sell you non-prescription drugs for a price and Vanya mentally crosses those ones off of her list to call)
Five is probably joining on the breaking and entering because Allison promised she would sweet talk to eye dude if he did her this solid
(Five complains at length about how investigating the apocalypse should not be a solid because she would 100% die as well if the apocalypse came to pass)
#the red book au#plus like. some thoughts and opinions lmao#look Vanya's book was healing and cathartic for her#does that mean it should have been published?#FUCK NO#it's biased as all fuck for starters and could genuinely impact her siblings jobs and relationships#anyway the hargreeves are all cats#they do their own thing regardless of what they should be doing#their orders of priorities are fucked tbh#what do you mean vanya's job isn't equally as important as saving the world?#she has to pay rent somehow five !!#klaus is down to go threaten a seedy dude but can they investigate dad's will after pretty please?#maybe there's a clue! or numbers about inheritance!#if dad disowned them then diego is forging the will tbh#not because he wants the bastard's money but it's the PRINCIPLE of the thing#Anonymous#long post#far tua long
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aphrodisiac
requested: no
group: twice
pairing: mina x fem!reader
genre: fluff, extremely mild and short angst
contents: witch!mina, love potions, college!au
warnings: none
synopsis: You’re broke and desperate, so you don’t think twice before taking a love potion that’ll make you fall in love with a mysteriously perfect girl. But maybe you should.
a/n: hehe i like the idea of this!! i’m just not sure how well i executed it 🤔 happy valentines day, my loves ❤
word count: 6.0k
While everyone knew that working the 9-12 weekday shift at the campus bookstore was the worst job you could possibly get, you didn’t feel quite as exhilarated to have been laid off as you should have.
As the one who had suffered at the hand of old Mrs. Lee for almost the entire duration of your time on campus, you knew the torture better than most. So it was an understatement to say that you were exhilarated to be free of ironing book pages out and restocking the shelves at Mrs. Lee’s whims, that you were practically beaming when you got the email.
But on the other hand, it wasn’t like you had much money to spare, or like you had the ability to find another job in the crowded university. When you felt your wallet in your back pocket, completely empty save for a couple crinkled receipts, the grin faded from your face; after all, it would be even harder to survive without the aid of your measly salary.
So as you pinched together a couple quarters to buy yourself a consolatory iced chocolate, you found that being let go from the shittiest job in the world didn’t feel as triumphant as you had expected. Not when you were, once again, scouring the papers stabled to the lightposts around the campus for anything that offered a quick paycheck.
Well, almost anything.
“I will not.”
“Why?” Lisa was close to whining, though the pout that she directed fully at you did her no favors. “You said you needed to get paid.”
You sighed, “I said i needed to get paid, not launched in the air like a damn cannonball.”
Lisa scowled and tapped her fingers on her face, her hands still cupping her chin as she attempted to convince you. “Come on, the dance team’s willing to pay. It costs less to pay you than to get a dummy, so--”
“That’s not helping to convince me,” you warned. As desperate as you were, and as much as you liked Lisa and her fellow dancers, you definitely didn’t trust them not to launch you in the air and break your neck. “Are you sure that you don’t know about any other job offers? Anything that won’t murder me?”
She considered it, chewing on her bottom lip. You could feel other students eyeing where you sat, one of the only seats in the incredibly tiny boba shop, but you refused to budge until Lisa gave you an answer. “Oh! There is one I can think of, actually. You know the bio lab?”
“Yeah.” You watched her suspiciously, arms crossed. “I’ve been there a couple times. Why?”
“Well, it isn’t a normal bio lab,” Lisa mumbled, leaning in as if what she was about to tell you was the greatest secret in the world. “A lot of them are witches, you know.”
It wasn’t like you didn’t believe in witches, or the supernatural-- both had been proven to be true eons ago, and almost half of the students attending your university weren’t completely human. But you were still a little skeptical that the pretty and equally brilliant girls who ran the campus’s bio lab were... “Witches? Are you sure?”
“Why would I be lying?” Lisa rolled her eyes. “I’m friends with a couple of them, and I know that they’re doing an... experiment of sorts, and they need--”
“Lab rats,” you finished for the dancer. In all rationality, being a lab rat for a couple of young witches with access to a high-tech lab was probably worse than getting launched up in the air by a dance team, but when Lisa slid a flyer over and your eyes widened at the offered money, you instantly stood. “Take me.”
Lisa pouted but stood anyway, taking the flyer back to squint at the tiny scribbled building number. “I can’t believe you trust Mina more than you trust me.”
“Mina? Is that the name of the ‘witch’ I’m selling myself to?” you asked, slightly sarcastic but also slightly curious. At the dancer’s nod, you exhaled lightly and shoved your seat in just to watch the next people scramble for it, and hummed on your way out, “Then let’s meet this Mina.”
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that your entire school was close to dilapidated, but something about the bio lab was almost creepy as you approached it. Lisa had long since set off for the dance room (something about Seulgi breaking Ten’s ankle, she claimed), so you hesitated in front of the cloudy glass door alone. But the thought of the $600 dollars scrawled onto the flyer scrunched in your fist prompted you to push the doors open and step into the lab.
There was already a decent amount of people buzzing around inside; you recognized quite a few of them and nearly laughed at the amount of students willing to possibly be poisoned. But you took the nearest empty seat as someone appeared at the front of the room.
“Wow, this is a great turnout.”
The crowd chuckled lightly, and your eyes nearly bugged out at the sight of the girl standing at the front with papers in her hands. Honestly, she was the kind of girl that you imagined people wrote love songs about-- absolutely perfect without having to really do anything, elegant and soft in a way that still stood out. She smiled slightly and waved, eyes darting around the room. “Hi. I’m Mina, I’m part of the coven that sent out the flyers.”
You joined in the chorus of greetings, but your eyes stayed fixed on Mina at the front of the room. You could see several other girls lurking around in the shadows, probably the other members, though they kept beckoning Mina to speak on her own. “Um, I’ll just... explain the project to you,” she chuckled nervously, darting over to the computer.
Once a slide was displayed on the wall, she rushed back to the front and explained, “Being a potions-focused coven and also biology majors, we wanted to conduct an experiment. A love potion, or an aphrodisiac in scientific terms.”
Murmurs arose around you, and even your eyebrows scrunched together; as far as you knew, aphrodisiacs weren’t real, and if they were, they were probably illegal. In response, Mina raised her hands and her voice slightly to call out, “Hey, hey. It’s an experiment. We were originally planning to accept all of you, but... I think it’ll be hard to conduct an experiment with 50 people, so please fill out the form we pass out.”
And like that, Mina joined the rest of her friends in passing out the clipboards. You didn’t watch them, only scanned the lab for any signs that you were about to die, so when you were tapped on the shoulder, you almost fell off your stool. It was Mina herself, a slight pink tinting her pale skin as she held out one of the forms to you. “Uh. Thanks.” You accepted it with a bow of your head, staring down at the paper. It looked legitimate, with areas for your age, your height--
“What’s your name?”
In your haste to read over the paper, you hadn’t noticed that Mina hadn’t left. When you looked back up, you could feel heat burning at the tops of your ears, and you answered, “Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N, though you’ll read it on my application.”
“Oh. Of course. Thanks for coming, Y/N,” Mina mumbled, bowing before moving on to someone else. You noted that she didn’t ask for the name of anyone else, but you passed it off and turned back to the form. Since when did becoming a coven’s lab rat require your blood type, anyway?
After nearly a week, you had almost given up on being accepted into the experiment. But just 5 days after turning your form in, you got the text.
Unknown number [4:57] Is this Y/N Y/L/N? My name is Mina, we met at the bio lab last week. I’m texting to tell you that you got accepted into the program; we’re meeting at the lab again at 9:00 tonight to discuss the experiment further.
You [5:00] yeah, it’s me. i’ll be there.
It wasn’t like what you wore to the meeting mattered; all you were doing was being briefed on exactly what was about to happen to you. But all through your classes of the day, through your futile studying, you couldn’t keep your mind off the experiment that you had somehow been accepted into, and whether it was a good idea to go at all.
Suffice to say, you went.
“Y/N?” the girl at the entrance of the lab asked. You recognized her from the week before-- dark hair, bunny-toothed smile. “You are Y/N, right?”
“Yeah,” you answered, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Why?”
“Oh, nothing,” she smiled. “We’re just taking roll, making sure everyone’s here. Take a seat inside, if you will.”
You obliged, nodding awkwardly before brushing past her. To your relief, the lab was nowhere as packed as it had been the week before, 7 people including yourself seated on the stools as the girls fiddled with test tubes in the back. One pair of eyes in particular lingered on you, before Mina was pulled back to talk, but your cheeks warmed nonetheless.
“Okay, everyone!” someone else announced, clapping her hands together. “My name’s Jihyo, I’m the head of the coven. This is Nayeon” -- the bunny-toothed girl from earlier waved-- “and Mina. We’ll be explaining the experiment to you today.”
She pulled the projector down and Nayeon stepped up, flashing a grin at all of you. “Basically, we made an aphrodisiac. And to test it, we’ll have all of you do the exact same things with the exact same person-- Mina.”
Mina stepped forward this time, and you couldn’t help smiling at the shy smile that tugged at her lips. “To keep conditions equal, you’ll all be going on the exact same 2 dates with me,” she explained. “I’ll take notes on how you act around me, and we’ll test how you feel about me at the very end. Any questions?”
The room was basically silent and honestly, you couldn’t see a downside to it either. Take a potion once and go on dates with a pretty girl, then get observed like a hamster on its wheel so you could get paid? A million times better than your old job. “Great,” Jihyo nodded. “Then, we’ll get started. If Y/N could be the first one? You’ll just go into a room with Mina to get interviewed and take your first dose.”
“Don’t die,” someone called out as you passed, and you flashed a glare despite not knowing who it was. Nayeon giggled as she opened the door for you and closed it behind you, leaving you in what you assumed to be a supply closet. Romantic.
“Hi,” Mina greeted softly, already seated across the table. “I’ll just ask you a series of questions, if that’s okay.”
“Go for it.”
“Rate how attracted you are to me on a scale from 1 to 10.”
Your jaw dropped immediately; for the first question, it was awfully invasive, especially when Mina voiced it with such a straight face. But you straightened your spine and answered stiffly, “9.”
It should’ve been 10, but you weren’t trying to look like a literal creep; Mina only hummed and marked a circle on her form, moving on to ask, “Are you considering dating anyone else at the moment?”
“No.”
And in that manner, the questions passed decently quickly, with Mina asking them as flatly as possible and you answering them with the exact same tone. As soon as she set the clipboard aside, though, she returned to her original sweet state. “I’ll just have you swallow this now, if that’s okay.”
The test tube was cold to the touch when you uncapped it, and the liquid inside was suspiciously clear. But you barely gave it a passing glance before downing it like a shot, asking with narrowed eyes, “Is it supposed to taste like nothing?”
“Well, we figured that not everyone would like to taste tequila once a week with none of the good effects,” Mina chuckled and placed the empty test tube in its place.
“How fast will I see results?” you questioned as you stood. “Like, am I gonna wake up in a cold sweat tonight because I can’t handle how much I suddenly love you?”
The girl shook her head, though it was a bit hesitant. “I don’t believe so. It should only become more prominent once you see me more often. Which reminds me, I’ll text you about our first date as soon as I can. Thank you for participating, Y/N.”
You snatched your jacket up and stumbled your way out of the room as quickly as you could, hoping no one was looking as you closed the door behind you with a quivering pulse.
Despite the witch’s words, you were sure that the potion was already taking effect. Why else would your heart start to throb terribly as you looked at her smile?
mina [8:16] Hello Y/N! I was wondering if you had class today?
Mouth full of cheap cup ramen noodles, you stared at your phone screen. If Mina was asking you about your schedule, she had to have something planned (for the experiment, of course. You weren’t delusional). And you weren’t sure if you were mentally ready to see her shy smile again.
But when the thought of the $600 dollar check popped into your head, you reached for your phone and started to type again.
You [8:19] hey, mina. i don’t have class, actually, is this something about the experiment?
mina [8:20] Yes! If possible, please meet me at the front of the school, we’ll be visiting the food trucks at the beach. I’ll pay!
Your stomach growled at the thought of the renowned food trucks at the beach by your university, and you typed out a hasty agreement before stuffing your phone into your bag and setting off for your apartment. There was no way you were enjoying such an opportunity for good food (and perfect company) in a slightly ramen-stained hoodie.
Thankfully, Mina didn’t seem to mind you being late when you approached her. “Hi, Y/N,” she smiled and hitched her bag higher up her shoulder. “I’m glad to see you.”
“Hi,” you breathed. Well, at least you tried to-- you could barely remember how to function when faced with Mina in a slightly cropped red top, her hair tied up in a little ponytail. But you followed her down the street well enough, towards where you vaguely remembered a fleet of various food trucks to be. “So, have you already conducted this part of the experiment with everyone else?”
Mina shook her head and answered, “No, you’re the first. You took the dose first, so you’ll be a bit like the guinea pig within guinea pigs.”
You snickered at that, nearly tripping over one of the raised cracks in the ground. Sure, the way down the hill to the beach wasn’t the safest one ever, but at least it was convenient for conducting test dates. “The lab rat. You know, this doesn’t seem remotely like a scientific experiment.”
“What do you mean?” the other girl asked, eyes on yours.
Coughing, you looked away from her gaze, though you could feel her still staring at the back of your head. “I mean... it’s not exactly normal for 7 people to drink a potion that tastes like nothing, then go on dates with a pretty girl and treat that as testing.”
“You think I’m pretty?”
“That’s what you got from my whole spiel?” you sighed in disbelief, turning to look at Mina. She laughed, gums showing slightly and her eyes twinkling, and you were forced to turn to the front yet again. “Whatever. Which trucks are we raiding first?”
And as it turned out, Mina was... generous. You were tempted to ask how she was going to keep herself from going broke if she bought that much food for everyone, but watching her bring yet another load of snacks over to where you sat on the wall, you weren’t sure if she cared too much. “Hey. Are you gonna pay for every date?”
“Hm?” She looked up from her Americano and considered the question. “Well, yes? I mean, we planned for the second date next week to be the fair, and I wouldn’t want any college student to have to pay for those overpriced tickets.”
“Aren’t you a college student?”
Mina hummed lightly and dug into her ice cream, sucking thoughtfully on the spoon. “Well, my parents are... well off? I’d like to put it that way, at least. And I think that when I can, I’ll use that to make others happy. Or to further our coven’s experiments.”
“Rich family,” you observed. “Cool.” To be honest, you didn’t really care about how much money anyone’s family made, but it was nice to have all that food paid for. After all, the sheer amount of things Mina bought could’ve covered several months worth of the finest ramen that the restaurants around campus could’ve offered. “Then why’d you end up going to college here with us normal people?”
She raised an eyebrow jokingly and gathered her knees to her chest. “Am I not a normal person anymore?” When you opened your mouth, slightly sheepishly, she giggled and waved a hand, answering, “I ended up choosing this college because my best friends came here. We’re all Japanese, and Sana wanted to come to Korea, so Momo and I just came along for the ride.”
“Ah.” You turned to watch the sky, the sun melting golden into the surface of the waves just a couple dozen feet away. You understood why it was called golden hour as you watched bright yellow rays flicker in Mina’s eyes and glow in her hair, and you had to resist the urge to pull out a camera and capture the feeling of a first date, as much of an experiment as it was. “Makes sense. Then-- how’d you find your coven? I don’t remember a Momo or a Sana.”
“Our coven is a bit... unconventional,” Mina nodded. “It’s just me, Nayeon, and Jihyo. You know that most covens form as children, and they train together, but we only met in college. See, none of us had our own coven, so it was natural that we came together. Momo and Sana aren’t witches, or we should’ve been together.”
You nodded in silence, prompting her to go on. And she did, a soft smile pressing her lips against her teeth as she thought about the girls eh seemed to consider her friends, or her family. “And, well, none of the three of us have had great luck finding someone to love. Or, to love us,” Mina added as an afterthought. “A love potion was just the first thing we fixated on.”
“Finding someone to love you?” you repeated, hand pressed up against your cheek. “I don’t mean that I don’t believe you, but it’s kind of hard to imagine that it’s difficult to find someone to love you. You’re pretty great, Mina.”
She laughed, “I’m glad you think so. But there’s a reason why we chose me as the one to test the potion with.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
Mina looked you right in the eyes, a kind of softness swirling in the brown of her own eyes, and responded equally quietly, “We chose me because we thought I was the hardest to fall in love with.”
“Bullshit,” you responded instantly, heat rising to your ears immediately after. But thankfully, the Japanese girl only looked endeared, and you continued, “I mean, I don’t know if this is just the potion talking, but you’re awesome. I... I think I’d like you even if I wasn’t part of this damn experiment.”
She blushed, the hue of her cheeks matching the pink clouds in the sky. “Well, I think you’re exaggerating on that. But it’s not them, I just volunteered myself. I think people just misunderstand me, you know? It’s hard to find the right person for you when you don’t let people see you. And-- I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. On a first date, too.”
“Hey.” When she looked away from you, you reached over to squeeze her hand. Mina didn’t look back up to you, but you knew she was listening from the way she chewed at her bottom lip. “It’s okay. I know what you’re saying. And I can’t say I know you yet, but I can say I wouldn’t mind knowing you. I’d like it, even.”
Mina laughed, barely loud enough for you to hear, and squeezed your hand. “Thank you, Y/N. I think we should finish our food before it gets cold.”
“Oh, yeah.” You let go to reach for one of the many desserts displayed in front of you, barely fazed by the topic change. “Wouldn’t want your parents’ money to go to waste.”
“Please let that go,” she whined.
“Not a chance,” you winked in response, laughing at her pout. “Not. A. Chance.”
“Lili, I think I’m done for.”
“Like, literally?” Lisa asked mindlessly, receiving a light hit on the head in response. “Ow, what was that for?”
You whined, “This isn’t funny. I can feel myself falling, and there’s no cushion underneath me for me to fall onto.”
The dancer rolled her eyes and reached for her milk tea. “Okay, Miss Overdramatic. You know falling doesn’t work like that, no one’s kicking you off a cliff. Especially not Myoui Mina.”
“I’m not being kicked off, I’m sliding.” You made the motions with your hand, a despondent expression on your face as you scowled, “I’m slipping through a puddle of aphrodisiac, that’s what, and Mina poured it at my feet.”
“Okay, enough with the metaphors, I’m not an English major,” Lisa sighed. She tossed a chip at your face, as if being smeared with salt and oil would wake you up from your Mina-induced trance. “You’ve gone on one date with her and spoken to her approximately twice, I think you aren’t falling just yet.”
“Did you forget the part where I’m drugged to fall in love with her?” you deadpanned.
Lisa paused at that. “Okay, I did forget that. Then what? There’s an explanation as to why you’re feeling this way, and there’s a way to get rid of it. Once you get your paycheck, you just stay away from Mina, should be easy enough, since you never met her before this. And you wait for the potion to wear off.”
“Does it wear off?” you groaned into your hands.
“Did you never ask?” Lisa asked in disbelief. “Wow, Y/N, ever heard of fine print?”
You smacked her with your rolled-up notes yet again. “Shut up. But I have a date with her tomorrow, and I don’t know what to do. I’m feeling like this because of the potion, sure, but I’m still feeling like this! And Mina has 6 other people vying for her now, all under the same effect as me. And it feels... bad.”
“Eloquent,” your friend sighed. “Then I have the perfect solution for you. Don’t go on the second date.”
“I need the money,” you shook your head. “Gimme another one.”
Lisa considered it, sucked on her straw as she did, until she shook her head. “I got nothing. All I can tell you is to enjoy it while it lasts, then just... wait. And if it doesn’t wear off, Jisoo unnie’s studying law.”
As horrible as her suggestions were, you could admit that you felt the slightest bit more assured. In the worst case scenario, you could sue Mina for winning your heart, and in the best, the somehow blissful stabs at your heart would be alleviated soon enough.
As it turned out, you got a chauffer to the fair. Not an actual one, of course-- it was just Jeongyeon, introduced as one of Mina’s friends who could actually drive.
You really weren’t intending to talk to her at first. She was quiet, too, didn’t even turn on the radio once she started driving, but when something that Mina said crossed your mind, you had to speak up. “Hey, Jeongyeon. Can I ask you something? About Mina?”
“Shoot,” she answered simply, keeping her eyes on the road.
“Do you think Mina’s hard to fall in love with?”
Jeongyeon glanced at you at that, her expression slightly quizzical. “What do you mean?”
“She said something yesterday,” you explained. “Mina said that they chose her for the experiment because they thought she was the hardest to fell in love with. She said-- something about being misunderstood?”
The older girl nodded in understanding at that and blew her hair out of her face. After a short pause, she sighed, “I think that’s more of what she thinks than the rest of us. Mina... she thinks she’s unapproachable, you know. She doesn’t open up easily, so I’m surprised she told you that at all. But... she’s been hurt several times, and a lot of people think she’s mean or something similarly stupid just because she’s quiet. That’s all.”
“Oh.” You wet your lips and looked forward to the road, where you could see the fair’s Ferris Wheel already in the distance. “I see.”
And that was that. The two of you fell back into silence, and as comfortable as it was, it only gave you more time to think about what you wanted to say.
Maybe you could see why they would choose the girl who thought of herself as unapproachable and quiet to be the test, but they also didn’t seem to think about the obvious warm color to Mina that she presented. She was quiet, sure, but she was sweet, kind... there was plenty to fall in love with, and even if there wasn’t magic coursing through your system, you thought that you could’ve fallen in love with her anyway.
After bidding goodbye to Jeongyeon at the entrance, you found Mina waiting for you by the fair entrance. “Y/N!” she called out, though her voice still wasn’t loud. You could’ve spotted her anywhere anyway, and made your way over. “You’re a bit early.”
“You were earlier,” you smiled. “So. Are we ready to go in?”
“Absolutely.” Mina linked her arm in yours slightly hesitantly and surprised the both of you, but you took it in stride and swung your arm slightly to bring a smile to her face. “I’ll get our tickets, you get in line.”
“I can pay for myself,” you protested, but she waved you off. “...Okay then.”
The fair was loud, a bit too loud to hear Mina’s voice if she talked normally, so you found yourself leaning in every time she spoke. You really didn’t mind it either, feeling her words tickle your ears-- maybe it was closer than you should’ve been comfortable with, but there was a certain adrenaline pumping in your blood that you weren’t really used to. So you continued on, fed cotton candy to her despite her blush, shared a soda, won a teddy bear for her. Nothing that should’ve made your heart beat as fast as it did.
Nonetheless, time ticked by all too quickly, whirling past in a gust of quiet laughter and honestly terrible jokes. The sun set yet again, the streaks of pink and purple across powder blue oddly similar to the first date you had gone on. Mina checked her watch and frowned, “I think we only have time for one more ride before Jeongyeon comes to pick us up. What do you think?”
You barely had to ponder it before you pointed at the tall, neon-lit Ferris wheel with a smile. “Classic date ride, of course.”
“Classic,” Mina laughed in agreement. She let you tug her towards it and stood in line with you with no complaint, digging a selfie stick out from her bag. “Should we take some pictures up there? It’d be a waste of a beautiful view if we don’t.”
You shrugged, “Of course. Might as well have some pictures to remember our last date by, right?”
Mina looked caught between saying something and staying silent, but she settled with a quiet, “Sure” before starting to set her phone up. Your hand in the crook of her elbow, you tugged her forward when it was necessary, keeping your eyes away from her red-tinted lips as much as you could.
Soon enough, wind was blowing your hair off your face and the cart of the ride was creaking slightly under your weight as someone started the wheel. “Whoa,” Mina laughed breathlessly and peered over the edge. “It’s really high up.”
“And we’re only starting,” you agreed, tugging her back by the wrist. “Don’t fall over, I don’t want to get off this ride with a murder charge on my hands.”
“Hm.” Mina reached over to set the selfie stick on the seat opposite the one the two of you shared, shoving you to get you to match her smile. “Come on, 1, 2, 3.”
With every click of her phone camera, you felt yourself coming closer to her, until you could feel the rise and fall of her chest beside you. You were almost at the top of the ride in barely a couple minutes, the soft sunlight almost blinding you. As you waited for the next camera click, you felt Mina’s hand creep up your arm, up, up, until her slightly cold fingers rested on your neck.
And then she tilted your head, fit her nose right next to yours like it belonged there, and slotted your lips together. You couldn’t think, much less fight whatever force pushed you up against her. You kissed back as best as you could with your senses battling within you, until you realized that the camera shutter had gone off at least ten times.
Mina couldn’t meet your eyes when you did pull back, and she reached over to fiddle with the camera. “Was that a part of the experiment too?” you questioned, your voice raspy.
“Maybe,” she answered, and your heart sank. But she looked up with a smile, her eyes just as confused as you felt. “And maybe not.”
“Oh. Okay,” you said dumbly, then reached over for her hand. There was nothing left to say, anyway, nothing that the slight swell to your lips didn’t already say for you, nothing that wasn’t conveyed when you leaned over to kiss her again.
The idea of allowing a love potion to work its wonders on you was like allowing yourself to be tossed into a trap. But instead of a cold, rough, and terrible trap that you would actively try to escape, you found the trap to be warm, cozy, a place that you wanted to stay-- and a place you knew that you would eventually be ejected from by force.
Once you were in the trap, though, there was no way you could pull yourself back out, especially when you didn’t really want to escape at all. You stayed up for all the nights leading up to the last time you would talk with the bio lab, just thinking about what you would do if everything that had passed by in the last couple weeks was just a figment of an aphrodisiac-induced haze. After all that time, you still didn’t quite know.
But Mina texted you often enough to pull you from that stupor. Thankfully, it wasn’t like one of those stories or dramas, where the main leads somehow fought after their first kiss-- maybe that would’ve been easier than being pulled in deeper. Instead, the two of you talked every day, even if it was only for a little while, and Mina was only worsening whatever situation you couldn’t seem to get out of.
And eventually, the day came where you’d be paid, a day that you had been looking forward to, until you began to dread it.
“Well, doesn’t someone look like a newlywed,” Nayeon greeted at the entrance with a smile, though she didn’t seem to be mocking you. “Come on in, Y/N, we’ll get you started right away.”
The closet was the exact same as it had been the first time that you stepped inside for the interview, but Mina’s smile was much more warm. “Hi, Y/N. How’re you feeling?”
“Good. Fine.” You cleared your throat and attempted to peer at her clipboard. “Questions for me?”
“Yes,” Mina nodded, flipping the pages over. “Are you ready to get started, then? On a scale from one to ten, how attracted are you to me?”
“Ten,” you answered without hesitation this time, and your smile only grew when Mina flushed.
“Okay. Are you considering dating anyone other than me right now?”
“No.” You shook your head, but gulped slightly and leaned back when Mina leaned forward to observe you.
“What about me?”
You paused, blinked, though Mina didn’t seem like she was going to move until you answered, “Yes. I would date you, absolutely.”
She flicked through the pages listlessly before setting them aside and turning back to you. Somehow, Mina looked like she was about to drop a bomb on you, her lips quivering as she calculated the right words. “I... Y/N, I have to tell you something. About the experiment.”
“I’m not going to die, am I?”
Your shitty attempt at humor did manage to prompt a smile from Mina, but she remained serious. “Not that. But- do you understand control groups? In experiments?”
“Um. I think so?” you answered, racking your brain for whatever limited knowledge of science remained with you. “It’s the normal group, right? The one that isn’t experimented on.”
“Yes, just about,” Mina nodded. She reached for your hands and clasped them within hers, eyes pleading for you to understand something that you hadn’t heard yet. “Y/N, you were the control. I... we had to make sure that it was the potion working, and not me, and you- we used you for that. You were never given any potion.”
“I...” you stammered out. Every instinct in you was screaming out to pull away from Mina’s grasp, to question every aspect of your existence that had led up to you being tricked into loving her. Somehow, everything being real only made it feel more fake, even though you now knew that what you had felt was completely you. “I don’t understand.”
Mina said softly, “You fell in love with me, or at least liked me, on your own. You didn’t work as a control group because the same thing happened to you as it did to the others, even though you never took the aphrodisiac.”
“So,” you faltered, “all seven of us fell for you. I’m just the sucker who’s in it for real, huh?”
“I was willing to sacrifice my own feelings for the experiment,” Mina clarified, shaking her head. “I knew I would fall for one of you, but I didn’t think that you, as the control, would be the one who I fell for. And who fell for me.”
Silence fell over the two of you, though you remained there, hands clasped together and eyes meeting with a clarity that speech could never capture. But you tried anyway. “Okay.”
“Just okay?” Mina questioned.
You smiled weakly as a response, “Yeah. Um... how about we go on another date to talk? After you finish interrogating everyone else?”
Mina let go of your hands and let you stand up, but you could feel her smiling at your back as you closed the closet door behind you. Like a repetition of when you thought that you’d be induced into loving her, your heart beat in your throat as you leaned against the wood.
But when you knew it was real, when you knew that it wasn’t magic seizing you by the hand and pulling you into the unknown, you smiled. Because it felt... right.
#twice#twice x reader#mina x reader#mina imagines#mina scenarios#twice imagines#twice scenarios#twice reactions#twice mina#mina#mina myoui#myoui mina
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au + trope + prompt game = 1. roommates!au 8. exes 3. “i don’t even think i want to know.”
And another case of terminal dumbassery.
---
Wei Ying couldn't say that this entire scenario was how he would have liked or imagined things to go. Unfortunately, life rarely cared about what you wanted. More often, in his experience, life was looking for a good way to fuck you over. So when his relationship with Lan Zhan went down the drain, it was only to be expected that it was at the very moment where he didn't have the finances to move out and get his own place. And seeing that the apartment they were living in was actually Lan Zhan's, he couldn't exactly kick Lan Zhan out and stay.
So between the threat of homelessness and Lan Zhan's all too gentle offer to let him stay in the apartment until he had found his own place, the decision had been an easy one. Of course he would take Lan Zhan's offer over ending up on the street, regardless of his personal feelings! Luckily, the apartment was large enough that each of them had a private room, so they could stay out of each other's way if necessary. Otherwise this arrangement would have been way too awkward.
Jiang Cheng kept repeating that exes still living together was weird as fuck, but Jiang Cheng had no romantic experience and therefore no idea what he was talking about. Wei Ying and Lan Zhan had been friends long before they had ever become a couple, and they would find a way to get back to that relationship and stay friends forever. Even without romantic entanglements. Eventually.
It wasn't like they didn't get along well, after all! They were very used to sharing the housework, and Lan Zhan would still sometimes share the food that he cooked with Wei Ying, who always gratefully accepted any opportunity of not having to cook himself. Wei Ying, on the other hand, knew how to keep Lan Zhan's white laundry a pristine white by now, and he would feed little Hei and Bai whenever Lan Zhan was busy. They really worked quite well as roommates.
Or they would have, if there only hadn't been the pesky little fact that they had been lovers until a short while ago. The problem with being roommates, and being in close proximity to each other all the time, was that it was hard to break certain habits that they had established while living together as a couple. Wei Ying frequently found himself tempted to hug or kiss Lan Zhan whenever he was in his proximity, or found himself craving his support or affection when he was feeling stressed. Those obviously weren't things that Exes were supposed to do, and Lan Zhan shouldn't have to take care of him now, after they had separated. He was probably getting impatient to get rid of Wei Ying once and for all.
Now that Wei Ying thought about it, this whole situation was really bad for Lan Zhan. It was his home, after all, and if Lan Zhan wanted to bring someone home, wanted to date or even sleep with someone, this new person would be greeted with Wei Ying hanging around the apartment for no reason at all. It would just be supremely embarrassing for everyone involved. Obviously, Lan Zhan couldn't bring anyone home as long as Wei Ying was still around. So Wei Ying had to stop making a nuisance out of himself and remove himself from the situation.
He thought about how to do that, but considering that he didn't have the money to move out, that mostly left one other avenue. (Asking Jiang Cheng to room with him was absolutely out of the question, Jiang Cheng the traitor had made that pretty clear already.) The answer was using a dating app, of course. He just needed to find someone to date that came with a big enough apartment that he could move into. And then he would be out of Lan Zhan's hair.
Wei Ying had never used a dating app (after all, Lan Zhan and him had known each other long before they had ever started their romantic relationship, and there had been no one else), so he needed some time to figure out how dating apps even worked, and how to figure out which dating app was the right one for him.
The process was really annoying, though. There was so much he needed to do, add information and mark preferences, before he even got the first suggestions! And when he did, he rapidly learned that he really needed to curb his own expectations drastically. Few men could be called tall and handsome, particularly when compared to someone like Lan Zhan, and even the, well, not particularly attractive ones were hardly ever willing to cook for a partner. There were quite a few cute women, but inadvertently, Wei Ying found himself looking for someone a little... taller, more elegant still.
The ideal person should be funny, but not a clown. Confident when it came to voicing their opinion, but not overly assertive or overbearing. Able to deal with a teasing and the occasionally rowdy relatives. Affectionate. Good with animals. Culturally inclined. Not too much of a party animal, he was past that age by now.
These requirements were, apparently, almost impossible to meet, and the selection was accordingly difficult. A lot of people were superficially attractive, but checked none of Wei Ying's requirement boxes. Other shared Wei Ying's interests, but he still found it hard to build a connection with them. And then there were the people who just solicited him for sex. Those were often kind of creepy. And if he was honest, if he just wanted a good fuck, there was a Lan Zhan right here, whose abilities he knew only all too well.
(Not that he would ever do that. He didn't think Lan Zhan would ever want to sleep with an ex, and even if that was no issue, Wei Ying wasn't sure if his own already questionable emotional state would be able to handle that.)
He dithered around while using the app half-heartedly, not really able to settle on meeting any of the people he had talked on the app in real life. He wasn't sure if he really like anyone well enough to be ready for that commitment, and he wasn't sure if he was making good decisions, with his biased view.
But then he remembered that lived together with the possibly most unbiased person ever, and that he could always count on Lan Zhan's objective opinion. So, one day, he went to Lan Zhan and presented him with some of his potential choices, and let Lan Zhan study their profiles for a little while.
A short while later, the feedback came exactly as expected.
"This person is a workaholic and will not take the weekend off to be with Wei Ying."
"She spends all her income on luxury brands, be careful."
"This man is biphobic, Wei Ying."
The reasons were manifold, but always very reasonable, and Wei Ying found himself very grateful to have a friend like Lan Zhan. That left him only with one problem, however: he ended up pursuing none of the potential relationships any further, and was no closer to removing himself from Lan Zhan's apartment than he had been before. And that had been his primary goal, after all.
So his redoubled his effort to find a suitable new partner that would pass all possible hurdles. And then, almost by accident, he found a man who seemed to be his ideal type. He was tall and muscular, not ugly, but he often looked sceptical in many of the pictures he had uploaded. Still, he seemed to be a caring man with good friends and a good relationship to his mother. He knew how to cook, and when Wei Ying went out on a limb and contacted him, he was friend and respectful, and sent exactly zero unsolicited dick picks. All in all, this man seemed to be a good choice.
When he showed his newest choice to Lan Zhan, however, Lan Zhan looked at the profile for several minutes, put the phone down, and said simply, "No."
Then he turned around and walked away. Which was, for Lan Zhan levels, really, really rude.
"Lan Zhan?" Wei YIng cried, running after him. "Lan Zhan, what the hell?"
When he caught up with Lan Zhan, just before Lan Zhan could disappear into his own room, Lan Zhan levelled him with a flat look, and said, "I do not want to know."
"Don't want to know what?" Wei Ying asked, confused.
"Whom Wei Ying wants to share his life with," Lan Zhan replied, his answer clipped. "It is not me, so I do not want to know."
"Wow, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying gasped, actually feeling a pang of hurt blooming in his chest. "Is that really how little you care about me now? I just wanted to make sure I don't accidentally go on a date with a serial killer, and your answer is that you don't care?"
Lan Zhan looked at him as if he was an idiot.
"You broke up with me, Wei Ying, and now you want me to help you find someone else? That is too much to ask of me."
"You broke up with me, Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying shouted, getting more confused by this conversation by the minute. "What the hell? The least you could do is help me find a way to get out of your hair for good!"
"I never broke up with Wei Ying."
Lan Zhan's voice was quite, unlike Wei Ying's rather hysterical tone, but there was a sense of intensity in his words that made Wei Ying swallowed the rest of the tirade he had been gearing up for.
What the hell was Lan Zhan talking about, clearly he had been wanting to get rid of Wei Ying for a -
Wait.
Wei Ying looked at Lan Zhan again, really looked at Lan Zhan. He looked at the slight shadows under his eyes that showed that he wasn't sleeping well. He noticed the slight droop of his posture, which Lan Zhan would have considered unforgivable at any other time. The exhaustion dimming the shine of his beautiful, beautiful eyes.
Lan Zhan definitely looked stressed, and Wei Ying had thought it was because he wanted to get rid of Wei Ying; the sooner, the better. He had thought that Lan Zhan had stopped caring about him, and that Lan Zhan was happy to-
Lan Zhan had said he had never broken up with him. That was not how Wei Ying remembered things.
"Lan Zhan?" he asked with a small voice. He already felt tears prick in his eyes, both out of hope and sheer terror, the possibility of having his heart broken once and for all.
It couldn't be true, but Lan Zhan- Lan Zhan looked so- he looked so sad.
"Lan Zhan?" he repeated once again, and his own voice cracked. "Do you want to date me?"
Lan Zhan looked at him in silence for far too long, and Wei Ying felt the tears spill over.
God, he was so stupid.
But then, Lan Zhan said, "There is only Wei Ying for me. There has only ever been Wei Ying. There will be no one else."
And Wei Ying was in his arms before he even knew what he was doing, sobbing like a toddler that had just scraped his knees on the playground.
"Why did you break up with me then, you stupid fool?" he blubbered.
"I thought Wei Ying wanted to break up," was Lan Zhan's answers, which was all kinds of non-acceptable.
(He was slightly mollified by the way Lan Zhan's arms found their way around his waist without hesitation, though.)
"Why would I ever want to break up with you?" Wei Ying wailed. "Lan Zhan is the best! Why would I want anyone other than Lan Zhan? No one else can even compare! Have you seen the people on that dating app?"
"You seemed quite taken with that man," Lan Zhan observed rather resentfully, but when Wei Ying lifted his head to give him a trashing, he caught the impish little spark in Lan Zhan's eyes.
"You!" was all he managed to say, flailing for a moment before he remembered how to pull Lan Zhan in and give him a long-overdue kiss.
"Don't tease me, my heart is broken."
"There is still time to contact him."
"Lan Zhan, I swear, if you don't-"
He didn't get any further than that, however, because Lan Zhan picked him up, pressed him against the door of his room, and kissed him in earnest.
---
Two months later, Lan Zhan presented him with a neat little box, and in that neat little box was a elegant, silver ring that fit perfectly on Wei Ying's finger.
"This should should serve as a good reminder the next time you doubt whether I want you by my side or not," Lan Zhan said, the cruel man.
But he also gently kissed Wei Ying's temple and took Wei Ying's hand into his to admire the silver sparkle on Wei Ying's finger with the most happy expression that Wei Ying had ever seen on Lan Zhan's face. So Wei Ying deigned to let the tease slip.
There would be an opportunity to get back at him, after all.
As soon as his own neat little box had arrived, that was.
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Idol!ATEEZ: Their s/o secretly writes fanfics pt.2
A/N: This was a request from someone who wanted to read their reactions to dirty fanfics *wiggles brows* but cba coming up with more backstories, so this’ll be a continuation of the first reaction
Tag list: @lovelyrose014-blog sorry this took so long :((
WARNINGS: swearing, mature content, heavily suggestive
Part One
Kim Hongjoong:
Hongjoong made no effort to hide that he read your stories. It was as he promised; the first time he read them was not the last.
He’d been filling up his rare breaks with your works, powerful words contrasting your timid nature and no matter how many times he indulged himself in your crazy mind, Hongjoong never ceased to be amazed.
You had more sides to you than he ever could imagined.
Although, there was one thing he put off for quite some time now, and that would be reading your more popular fanfics. The fan favourites. After all, being the leader, he should know what his fans like, and as your boyfriend he should know what you crave.
Hongjoong was a smart guy despite the goofy act he put on--very similar to your intelligence and geeky-yet-quiet nature. He knew that you wanted to keep him away from the dark side of your account, not wanting to scare him away (which he would never let happen). Hence why he hadn’t gone on it since he wanted to respect your wishes to some extent.
Until now.
Hongjoong swears it was curiosity, nothing more, but deep down he knew. He still needed to see that side of you, the side you deem acceptable for a whole world of strangers to see but not him.
Drove him mad.
But he was still in denial as he chanted in his head that this was only for research purposes. Bullshit.
Late at night, when pretty much everyone had gone home and he still had some work left to do, Hongjoong decided to take a well-deserved break, lying on his sofa as he scrolled through his phone.
He was doing what he had planned--he was finally doing it and nothing made the adrenaline rush faster through his veins. He clicked on the one which had the most reads, the one that was the most popular among anything you wrote, and from the title, it appeared innocent enough.
Maybe this wasn’t the one...
Then again, you were adamant that he never read it.
“Never hurt to try...” Hongjoong mumbled, despite being the only one in the sound-proof room. He clicked on it, anticipation making him restless.
Long chapter, as usual, and everything started out fine enough. No sign of anything, nothing suggestive at all.
What was the big deal about?
The next few chapters were of a similar feel. Sweet, gentle, fluffy. But he couldn’t put his phone down, something about this story had him...unsettled. It was nothing like your usually ones--with sadistic characters and an intricate plotline.
No. This had him slightly confused. It felt too kind.
Then he carried on. And then he realised.
That was exactly your intention.
The filter you had put over the first few chapters was slowly startling to peel away, into something more twisted.
Hongjoong buzzed off this, knowing exactly that the earlier chapters were a trap, a false sense of security. How you managed to poison every reader slowly, like your words were mercury.
By the time he got to the first smut chapter in the series, he was already consumed, work forgotten . Every word felt like it sucked out a part of his soul, and the heavy themes in the scenes had him in an uncomfortable situation of rather tight jeans.
Right now, all Hongjoong wanted was you. He needed you. To do all those things you wrote, to be there with him and feel the things he was feeling.
Luckily, you were always awake at this time of night.
Just a phone call away.
Park Seonghwa:
Although he loved your shower time, there was one habit that Seonghwa didn’t like and that was you leaving your notebooks everywhere. It made his daily cleaning harder than it should’ve been.
Never did he look through them, caring too much about not invading your privacy (save for a few months ago where he accidently found out about your fanfic account on AO3). But today was a stressful day already.
All he wanted right now was to lie down with you and watch some cheesy romcoms, accompanied by some snacks. Hongjoong, ever the perfectionist, was under more stress than usual and that meant all the other members were too.
Seonghwa was the nurturing mother, and even he felt like he lacked the energy to be as such with the way things were going right now--a comeback just around the corner.
So, yes, the tall boy was quite peeved today. He needed his charger. He needed you. But you were taking your damn time in the shower and he had to pick up all your damn notebooks from the most random places.
What even was it about these notebooks that you had to buy--or try to buy--a new one every time you entered a shop? Seonghwa never understood your love for them as he had only linked the devilish little thing to his work, where Hongjoong would be composing or writing lyrics.
The last thing he needed right now was something to remind him of his job.
The stress continued to build as this argumentative thoughts accumulated in his head, causing him to drop the hardback in his hands. “Fuck’s sake,” he growled, too pissed off at the moment to notice that your book had oh-so-conveniently opened up.
When he did, however, his fiery anger cooled down at the page, which had a few words on it. Luckily for him, your handwriting was fairly neat (unlike your normal habits) so he could read your little notes.
Phrases, sentences, ideas, the plot line in general, that’s what he got from a first glance. Maybe he could have a peek, seeing as though he was exerting a lot of energy recently.
The words, the plot, everything on that page was something he did not expect. It was smut.
Surely his innocent sweetheart wouldn’t be writing those, right? He gave you the benefit of the doubt when he found out about your fanfics. But you were a sweet girl, and he had always thought you mind was as pure as your heart was.
Then again, no one’s heart is truly pure, and it wasn’t the first time you had been tainted by him.
His eyes scanned your words, finding that it was somewhat vanilla and gentle.
A sigh escaped past his lips when he found that you were still his soft-hearted princess.
Then he noticed it was an old entry. Flicked through the pages and saw that the smut scenes progressively got more frequent and dabbled a little more in the dark side of things.
His heart plummeted. Not just because your innocence was slowly peeling away, but because he too found himself getting a little interested by it. Especially one of the last entries of that notebook, where he found himself blushing hard enough to turn his normal skin to resemble that of rubies.
Yet, he couldn’t stop.
That was until he heard your voice yelling, "Seonghwa!"
Eyes like those caught in headlights, his large hands shut the book with lightning speed. But you had already caught him snooping.
"What are you doing with my notebooks?" You cheeks a dusty rouge from both the hot water and embarrassment, you snatched away the book from his hands.
"N-Nothing! It fell and opened up and I just..." He sighed, afraid that he'd already broken your trust. "I'm really sorry..."
Exhaling softly when you saw Seonghwa looking like some sort of scolded puppy, you reached on your tiptoes to ruffle his hair. Calms him down a little.
“What,” you cleared your throat to rid your voice of fear, “what did you read?”
Now how was he going to play this? Was he going to lie and say it was only one page, or would he say that he had a peruse through the whole thing? As you had caught him already, it would not be a bad idea to tell the truth. “Um...bits and bobs. Just skipped through, really. I’m sorry.”
Smiling softly, albeit a little awkwardly, you patted his shoulder comfortingly. “It’s fine, I just... didn’t... expect you to... find out this way.”
He chuckled nervously. “Well, I’ve know for about two weeks now, about your... writing.”
“What?!”
Jeong Yunho:
One problem that you have, is that now Yunho knew you wrote fanfics, you became sloppy with hiding it. Not like there was a real need to because--as mentioned--he knew about it. How you loved to write thrillers and suspense and all there strange wacky things you’d find on a documentary about dangerous people.
Though that didn’t mean you never wrote other things as well.
Your works were obviously for a certain age and above (not like the warnings you put matter because the underage ones read it anyway), so writing the occasional smut was normal for you.
In fact, you were comfortable with it. Your personal experience with Yunho, combined with the ones you read online, all fuelled your creativity. Unfortunately, now that you became more open, Yunho had more opportunities to read what you wrote.
Not like it mattered much, you thought, because the words in your google docs were pretty much ineligible from the phrases only you could decode.
Sadly, when it came to smuts (what you wanted in them and what you didn’t), there wasn’t really a way to hide what you were talking about.
So when your tall and rather innocent boyfriend took a sneak peak at your latest entry, he was smacked in the face with the bullet points on there:
Fake dating AU
Cunnilingus
Blindfolds
Size kink
Hand kink
Sir kink
Power play
Complacent sub
(Because for some goddamn reason, every Yunho smut I’ve seen had either a hand kink or size kink...not that I’m complaining tho--)
Was this the stuff you were into? Because he certainly never never knew it. Your sex life with him had been somewhat vanilla due to the fact it only recently started and both of you were still a little too shy to branch out and dabble in other things yet.
His only thoughts until he next saw you were about this. If you were channelling your frustrations into your writing, then he could help you, right? After all, he wasn’t against trying this stuff out. It was a learning experience he was willing to go through. For you.
So when you came back from work, he sat you down on the bed, very nervous with his large hands engulfing your own. Concern would be a drastic understatement.
“Y/N?” You hummed in reply, now thoroughly scared. “I just wanted to let you know... that I’m not afraid of...expanding our experiences and neither should you be.”
Your heart dropped into the abyss of your stomach. “Y-Yunho, are you breaking up with me?”
“Wait, what?” The confusion of this situation seemed rather familiar. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just...” he bit his lip, still quite shy. He really didn’t know how to say this outright.
So he showed you instead.
As your eyes fell on the document of your plan for the next smut scene you had to write, your face dropped. Horror was evident in every part of your expression and he could see that.
“Yunho, I--”
“Look, there’s nothing wrong with you wanting to try some of this,” he said, before bashfully looking out the same window you had when you had been discovered. “Besides... I wouldn’t object.”
Now that the both of your faces were redder than roses, the air had become slightly more...still and heavy.
“Listen, Yunho, just so you know, I don’t often write my own preferences. But I suppose trying new things is a bad idea...”
Kang Yeosang:
Almost a year had passed since your boyfriend had found out about your writing (through your clumsy cousin, no less) and you were careful as to what you showed him.
He often helped you through tough times like writer’s block, and understood your strange little habits. Even threw you an idea once in while whenever you were struggling to think of something or even took you out--restaurants, landmarks, whatever would help.
Yeosang was looking after you.
But now? Now, he pampered you.
That had you lowering your guard. He was being so kind, so why not let him read more?
Here’s ‘why not’:
Because he kept pushing his limits. Yeosang and you never had done anything, despite the fact that both of you were living together--by your request, since you had been in quite a few bad relationships where sex was a major factor. So, for the past two years, Yeosang had been alone in his endeavours.
All his intention was to find out what you were into. That was it, he swears. Thought it might at least curb the growing need to have you begging under him--or above him--just have a small glimpse as to what was in store. Maybe even have them as company when he really needed you.
Mission Impossible, is what this felt like, buttering you up, making you feel safe and comfortable (this came naturally since he always wanted you to feel this way with him, horny or not). You were like a fortress, always giving him more but not the stuff that he needed.
So he tried the same tactic he used to get you confess.
Truth or Dare (alone, obviously).
“Seriously? Last time we did it like this, you found out my rather embarrassing secret.”
“Just answer,” he pushed, watching you carefully as you climbed into bed next to him.
“Okay... truth,” you mumbled as you buried your body between his arm and chest.
“How about ‘dare’ this time?”
Your lips released a tired chuckled. “That’s not how this works, Yeosang...” But after a long few minutes of silence, you caved into his request. “Okay, fine. Dare,” you grumbled after saying something along the lines of, “if you wanted me to do something, then just ask.”
His lips brushed against the lobe of your ear, sending electric shocks down your spine. “I dare you to send me one of your smut fics.”
‘Surprised’ wasn’t really the word you would use to describe the immense shock that hit you like a train. “No.”
“Can’t go back on a dare.”
“But that’s even more embarrassing than having you read my normal fanfics...”
“No, it isn’t. Not to me, at least.”
“Yeosang,” you whined but as it became more and more clear that he would not give up as time passed on, you caved once more. Hesitant, you pulled out your phone to scroll through your works. What was the best one to send to him, you had no idea. “Can I at least ask why?”
“Because I want to get to know you more. All of you...” That one sentence had you more excited than you’d be willing to admit.
After all, it wasn’t just Yeosang who felt alone at nights (and sometimes days) for the past two years. Arguably, it was harder for you since you used to be very...active. Hence why you had such a selection to choose from right now--it was your outlet.
Perhaps it would be best to let him see the one that had you more bothered than anything after writing it--since he wanted to get to know that side of you as well.
Finally making a decision, you handed over your phone with bated breath. What would he think? Would he be weirded out? Would he not be into any of it?
For the boy, however, it was a completely different story; he was too into it. The more he read on, the worse his boner got until he looked physically uncomfortable.
Immediately seeing the discomfort on his face, it was as if your worries became reality. Hand reached out to snatch the phone from his hand but his reflexes were much quicker than yours, pulling the slab away as he kept on reading.
By the time he finished, his breathing was heavy and ragged.
This, sadly, had only made his situation worse. Only purpose this served was to make him crave you even more. Certainly didn’t help to have you leaning over him, soft, bra-less chest beneath thin, stretchy cotton of your shirt against his bare arm, trying to see if he was alright. Definitely had you concerned seeing his pained self.
“Are you okay?”
“Not really,” he humourlessly chuckled, “didn’t know it would affect me as much as it had...”
For some reason, you leaned further down and kissed him. Whether it was because of seeing his hooded eyes or feeling the tension in his muscles as he restrained himself against your body, you didn’t care. Relief was the first thing you felt, knowing that he was just as frustrated as you when you wrote it.
No, he was worse. You could tell by the feverish movement of his mouth against yours. You could tell by the harsh grip he had on your waist. You could tell by the stiffness poking your thigh.
Yeosang pulled away with as much willpower as he could muster, while your lips chased after his. “N-No, we can’t, remember?”
Huffing, you were thoroughly pissed off at the promise you made two years ago with him when you first started out dating. “Yeosang, look at me.”
His gaze was even more reluctant, knowing very well that it would be much more difficult to have the eyes he loved so much staring back at him with as much lust as he had clouding them. But he listened.
“That promise was there so I could get to know you and see if I want to commit to this relationship, long-term, and we’ve had two years to think it--which is long enough for me.” Each hand cupped his cheeks, pulling him closer for a peck since you couldn’t handle being that touch starved anymore. “So, screw me.”
Yeosang didn’t need to be told twice.
Choi San:
It had been a little over a month and San had still not dropped his admiration. Didn’t look as if that was going to change anytime soon either, especially with one of your recent updates.
Your current story had a lot of pent up sexual tension and all your readers (your boyfriend being no exception) were at the point of begging in the notes of each update.
Finally, you decided to take mercy on all the poor folks and finally write that one scene which had them crying with gratefulness at the end.
As it was a long-awaited scene, it had to live up to high expectations. While you could do the most tooth-rotting fluff ever, that wasn’t your style. This scene needed to fit the vibe of your series so the whole bit flowed nicely.
The problem was, everything you wrote was ‘too much’. Too much fluff. Too much kink. Too much basicness. Too much weirdness. Too much awkwardness. Too much cringiness.
Unfortunately, this put you in a bit of a pickle and you were close to losing your damn mind. On the other hand, San--the caring lover he was--had noticed. Wanted to do something nice for you, not just because he could clearly tell it was a bad case of writer’s block and he wanted to you to write more things he could read, but because it hurt him a little inside to see you this frustrated.
Requested a day of, which he got considering how hard he had been working, an spent that day as your personal servant. First up was breakfast in bed--fried egg (sunny side up), beans, buttered toast, hash browns and a tall glass of cold, hand-squeezed orange juice. Not to mention a shirtless San in plaid cotton pants, the only coverage his torso receiving was the pink apron he had on.
Kissed you on the forehead and told you to take your time, then get ready or a day out while he made lunch.
The next two meals went by in a similar fashion, where he had put so much love and care for everything to be perfect for you. Your favourite sandwich and a fruit salad, water and a chocolate chip cookie before a walk in the park where you both fed the ducks in one of the nearby lakes.
Later was dinner--arguably the best one out of them all. Steak with roast potatoes, and steamed vegetables (much to San’s dislike, but he withstood it for you). The day’s activity had you more than tired, cheeks aching slightly from smiling too much. Then again, you didn’t even notice because all you could think about was how lucky you were to land yourself such an amazing boyfriend.
Even after dinner, he continued to treat you like the royalty you were in his eyes. Offered a nice massage to relieve the past week’s tension all pent up in your poor muscles. It was innocent enough...
Until it wasn’t any more.
Despite the cloths thrown about everywhere on the bed, neither of you had motioned to clean up and San had instead opted to run you a bubble bath. Scented candles and all. It was more relaxing than you had imagined it to be, and by the time your face rested on San’s now-clothed torso--both of you wrapped snuggly up--you fell asleep.
The man loved the sight, and for once, he actually enjoyed running after you, making sure your every need was fulfilled whether you expressed it or not.
Because throughout the day, you were the happiest he had seen in a while, and all his efforts let up to this sight: you cuddled up close with that beautiful, enchanting smile faintly on your plush lips that he had so gently attacked not two hours ago.
He found himself loving you even more; a pleasant surprise as he had thought his cup was close to overflowing.
Two days later, he found himself falling even deeper when you had finally posted your latest chapter. San found himself grinning by the end of it--a little turned on, but more happy than anything.
Because San’s magic had worked. Cured your painful writer’s block since the words simply flowed as you typed the scene that had been causing you hell.
And whole chapter was awfully similar to that special day when San decided to take care of you.
Just tweaked a little so it would be more smut than it was fluff, adding just the right amount of sweetness that allowed your story to continue to flow perfectly.
Which was why San had been more joyous than usual the past week.
You were a perceptive person so you caught the change in his usual demeanour rather quickly. The source of it, however, was beyond you (he was good at hiding his knowledge of your secret). Any reason you tried to pin down on him was a little off.
Stress? No, he was too happy for that. Upcoming event? None that you knew of, and he shared everything of importance with you. Feeling happy just because? San was the more emotional out of the two of you and none of his moods lasted this long.
So what was it?
It was frustrating to say the least, but your boyfriend wasn’t letting it out. And you don’t think he ever will.
“Oh well,” you mumble, “can’t be that bad if he’s so happy...”
Song Mingi:
The boys had made a pact when they began to read your stories: no reading smuts with the group. This was fairly easy since they would normally be oneshots and you generally weren’t one to write them often into your series. On the odd occasion you did, you often put up a warning and explained straight after if there were any important bits.
All in all, very easy to avoid.
Mingi was a gigantic baby, and with babies, comes curiosity. A sense of need to know what’s happening. An insatiable thirst for knowledge and experience. Suppose what is trying to be said here is, is that Mingi wanted to read the explicit stuff you wrote.
What went on inside that wonderous brain of yours, he wanted to find out. But he couldn’t do that with the boys, nor did he want to. No chance in hell he was gonna be caught with an awkward boner.
Never would he live that one down.
So his plan commenced at night, when everyone in the dorms were fast asleep, he opened up his phone.
Now would normally come the dilemma of what to read, but Mingi is not that patient; as mentioned before, he is a giant baby. The first post he found that fit his criteria was the one that he read. Coincidently, that was result of your ‘experimental’ ones.
Using metallic things wasn’t something you had tried yet with Mingi, but you though you’d take it for a test run through your work to at least see it clearly how it would run if something like that was to happen. Sometimes, you found, it’s makes more sense to write it out rather to keep in your head.
On the other hand, Mingi didn’t really know that your writings stemmed from mild curiosity rather than what your really into (not that you would particularly mind trying some of it out). In his head, this was what you wanted to do.
He’d be lying if he said that the idea wasn’t much of a turn on, and the time he spent trying not to make a sound loud enough to wake up the other members would prove that. To him, this is was your wish and he would gladly comply to it.
The next day, he decided to run along with the theme, but to also add in a few twists of his own. You often liked that, both in and out of the bedroom.
Went out to buy some new rings for you, larger ones decorated with pretty gems for his pretty baby (even though he was one himself). Handcuffs, too, were ordered online, and a silver-chain choker--he made sure to double check it was safe to use. Next up was a little metal ball--he got this idea from the pokey challenge and something called the ‘passion fruit kiss’ on snapchat. Either way, he was excited to try it.
Babies like Mingi, as mentioned, have little patience and so he wanted to try it out as soon as possible, so the moment everything came, he quickly sterilised everything and waited for you to come home.
Made sure each metal piece was cold to the touch by keeping it in the fridge, and had a rolled up black silk tie stuffed in his pocket to act as a makeshift blindfold.
Sensory deprivation was the ‘twist’ he wanted to put on, since you both had tried something similar before with ice cubes and that went quite well...until it became too cold for Mingi’s mouth and that plan had to be scrapped sooner--hence fridge, for a little bit of coldness.
When you finally arrived, he looked like an excited puppy, and you had no idea why. Until he spun you around and tied a soft cloth over your eyes. “Mingi, I’m really tired and I just--”
“Shhhhh,” Mingi lulled right next to your ear, warm breath fanning over the nape of your neck which felt more sensitive than usual, “trust me?”
Sigh escaping past your lips, because yes, of course you trusted him. And now that you felt slightly more awake from his action, maybe you were willing to hear him out. ”Baby, what are you doing?”
Chuckling that followed your question was deeper than normal. Had it always been like that or was it your mind playing tricks on you? Either way, he didn’t answer and all you had heard was the fridge opening.
“Seriously, baby, what are you doing?” Now you were just nervous, all intentions of a lazy evening down the drain as your heart sped up.
It closed, and shortly after your lips were met with his, a faint taste of strawberry attached to them. Then something smooth and cold slipped past from him to you.
The metal ball was passed between the two of you in a playful game of which only your boyfriend knew the rules of.
When he could tell your guard was down and now you became a little more comfortable, Mingi slowly took your hands behind your back.
You had not paid attention, but you should have. Cold, tight restraints pressed against your skin, shockwaves making you gasp from the low temperature. But Mingi kept on going, kissing you to ease your tension.
Two metal things, so there must be a third, right? You knew about people’s strange obsession with threes so you completely expected another cold metal object to come into play. But the question was, what?
You soon found out when a thick chain choker brushed against your neck, clasping around it snuggly. This was it. This was the third and final one. And your suspicions seemed correct when you had not felt another chilly accessory grace your skin.
You wouldn’t have, not when the coldest of all the items--the rings--were being slipped onto your boyfriend’s fingers. You were in for a surprise in just a few moment.
Needless to say, there was only one thought swirling around in your head.
Maybe he isn’t that much of a baby.
Jung Wooyoung:
Ever since Wooyoung found out your fanfics were not about him, but his favourite K-Pop band, BTS, he had been...difficult. Moping around, trying to play for your attention a lot more than normal, not letting you have some peace of quiet with your computer.
It was almost as if he was jealous. You knew how needy the boy could be, wanting skinship with you more than he did with San. Knowing that you were fawning over men that weren’t him had certainly done something to him.
But Wooyoung knew you were no-nonsense. The complete opposite of him. It was exactly why he fell for you, and it was exactly why he wasn’t being as petty as he wanted at the moment.
He knew deep down you were his and he was yours.
Then again, that still didn’t stop him from feeling jealous, and had even gone so far as to decrease the amount he listened to BTS’ songs--especially around you.
At first, you didn’t notice the change since Wooyoung was often spontaneous so his behavioural pattern was difficult to decipher. Eventually there came a point where the clinginess increased so much, you couldn’t feign ignorance anymore.
Looking back, maybe you should not have burst his bubble and let him think that your fanfics were about him... Actually, no; either way, the moment he found out about your hobby, it was going to be hell. But now you just feel bad.
Yet, you don’t feel bad enough to stop. You never actually fantasised about being with them--it was just fun to write about. Clearly, he didn’t understand.
Your boyfriend seemed to be at his tipping point when he came back to you after a long day of dance practices that went sideways, typing away intently on your computer.
This was his time. You usually spend time with Wooyoung when he came back, but you were too busy to comfort him in his desperate time of need. Too busy with fantasising about Taehyung’s large hands or Namjoon’s dimpled smile.
Wooyoung was as cute as Hoseok and Jungkook. He had a unique laugh like Seokjin and was as flirty as Jimin.
He had all your favourite qualities in a partner so why spend time thinking about other men? He was literally right there, begging for your attention and yet, now it seemed as if you gave him none (which wasn’t true since the only thing you’ve done is become less secretive about writing).
When his attempts at distracting you from writing had fail, he tried to see what exactly it was you were writing about. Unfortunately, you had tried to hid it from his sight; the only thing that helped in doing was pissing him off even further.
Only after a tough struggle did he finally see what you had been so focused on that you had neglected him.
It was more BTS fanfic, but this one was worse. This one had him fuming--skin hot red and ears pooling out steam. This one was smut.
It was about no other than Yoongi, and by God, was it a rough.
That was how you liked it, and so did Wooyoung. Probably why he was so angry while reading about mirror sex with one of his fellow idols; you were just twiddling your thumbs in the corner, not sure about how badly your boyfriend was going to burst.
Wooyoung, no matter how mad he was, he had to admit... it did turn him on. Although, he was a prideful boy--not liking how you thought about others and more importantly, how threatened he felt while reading it.
Suddenly realising that it wasn’t enough just being all the perfect parts you liked (even if it came naturally to him).
He had a point to prove; Wooyoung could go beyond your wildest fantasies--and boy was it a wild fantasy.
Throwing your phone haphazardly somewhere (making you wince in prayer that it was not broken), your boyfriend gripped you by the wrist and dragged you across the room. You had barely enough time to realise what he was doing, only feeling a cold surface against your back as his lips ravished yours.
At some point, he broke away--lips swollen and slightly more red than normal. To say the sight had not affected you more than you already were would be a lie.
Still not giving you enough time to speak, Wooyoung turned you around so you could finally see what he had you pressed against.
A mirror.
If an idea of what he was planning hadn’t dawned on you, having his fingers tug at your clothes certainly gave you one now. His free hand had clasped around your jaw, making you look right into your reflection, seeing how your boyfriend’s lips were dangerously close to your ears as he looked at you dead in the eye through the mirror.
“Let me show you that I can be better than your imagination. Let me show you that you need to think about no one but me. Let me show you how good you’ll feel and who is the sole reason behind it.”
Yes, Wooyoung has all your favourite qualities in a partner while exceeding all expectations. That’s why you’re dating him.
Choi Jongho:
Ever since the release of your first movie and publication of the book it was based on, your career had blossomed. Finally, you quit the job that had been draining the life out of you to work full time at the publishing company.
Everyone around you could tell you were much happier, and the one who noticed it the most was Jongho.
Sure, your eyes were less sunken in, your cheeks more red, your step more bouncy. But he could feel that you changed on the inside too.
Your smile didn’t feel so forced after you came back from work and he had asked you how the day was. Now, your boyfriend found himself talking less and listening more to what you had to say.
If there was an expression more powerful to describe how he loved this happier version of you, he would use it in a heartbeat.
Sure, there were still times when the both of you couldn’t hang out as much as you would like to, but that was always in the job description, and the both of you were more than happy with it as long as the bed had both of you in it at the end of the day, both metaphorically and literally.
Then came along your second movie deal of a completely different story. In fact, it was based upon a movie you had watched at the time, and you hated it so much that you simply redid the entire thing.
In fact, it had irked you to the point no one could even tell it was based off of something since you had changed so much of it. However, there were still concepts you kept in the story--intimate scenes, for example (even if they too were completely changed).
You wrote such concepts before, and you would continue to do so since it was just interesting to write. Jongho, however, did not know about it.
At all.
So once your second movie was released, he was in for a surprise.
It was miraculous how terrible your memory was, since you had forgotten that you had not told him about the scene that would come up as you both watched it at home just before it’s release in the cinemas.
‘Surprise’ wasn’t really the word Jongho would use when it did come up, nor would it be ‘shock’. He was... mildly curious? Not that either... Well, all he knew that whatever he was feeling was not overwhelming.
“Did you know they changed this scene?” you spoke up.
“Really?”
Humming, you nodded your head. “They said the original scene was... Let’s just say they thought it was ‘too much’.” Then you scoffed under your breath. “Don’t know why they thought that though. It was fairly vanilla. Just some wall sex is all,” you confessed.
Now he felt a little overwhelmed. But he was mainly amused. “I don’t remember doing that with you.”
“Hmm? Oh... that’s because we didn’t.”
Chuckling under his breath, he cocked his head to the side, the paused scene in the background long forgotten. “Have you ever wanted to try it?”
“Once upon a time. Suggested it to my ex once before but he couldn’t lift me up since I was ‘way too heavy’,” you recalled with air quotations. “Didn’t bother trying after that.” You laughed at the memory, finding it to be hilarious back then and even now.
But your boyfriend on the other hand had not. In fact, he was no longer amused.
He was pissed.
It wasn’t about the fact that you had mentioned your ex--he never felt even remotely threatened by him. It was because he had called you heavy. He called his precious darling ‘heavy’. And you just laughed.
That was who you were--no matter how mean another person was being to you, you took it as a joke and moved on. You saw no point in dwelling over the bad, and that was one of the many genuine things he had fallen for. This time was different; it annoyed him.
Sure it might have been a dumb little memory for you, yet simply hearing about it had his blood boiling.
“Get up.”
“Wha--why?” The dark look in his eye had your lips sealing within the second. As if on autopilot, your body stood from the sofa you two were so comfortably perched on.
He followed you up, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs, which only meant one thing. “Jongho--no. You won’t be able to.”
“Am I or am I not the strongest man you’ve ever met?”
“You are, but--”
“‘But’ I don’t care.” Forcefully, he lifted you up as you yelped, legs wrapping around his waist. “See? I can pick you up completely fine.”
Scanning his face, you saw that what he said was true. He picked you up as if you were as light as a feather, no tension in his neck, face, or arms to suggest he was having a hard time either.
It had you leaning against him, forehead touching forehead, laughing even more than you did before. Smile once again etched on his face, Jongho pecked your lips, walking slowly with you in his arms.
“Now shush and let me fuck you against the wall.”
#ATEEZ#ateez reactions#ateez fanfic#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#hongjoong#kim hongjoong#seonghwa#park seonghwa#yunho#jeong yunho#yeosang#kang yeosang#san#choi san#mingi#song mingi#wooyoung#jung wooyoung#jongho#choi jongho#request#suggestive#fluff#slight angst#but mainly fluff
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