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evanchantingpeters · 3 months ago

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How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 7 - Final)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Summary ─ A couple of months after Jake’s (Evan’s friend) tragic accident left him fighting for his life in intensive care, Evan is spiralling, lost in despair, a shadow of his former self. Just as a sliver of good news about his condition offers a ray of hope, Y/N steps in, determined to bring some light into Evan’s shattered world. She starts with a seductive dance and builds to a night of passion. But Evan has a surprise—one that will change everything in a way Y/N never saw coming.

Warnings ─ Obscene language, lap dance, oral (both receiving), overstimulation, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cowgirl, missionary, extra smutty—like you like it.

Word count ─ 5.1K (I had a lot to say 🤫)

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

Previously on: How I met Evan Peters (Part 6)

“W-what’s up, Jeremy?” he stutters, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s Jake,” Jeremy blurts out, his expression twisting into one of anguish. “He’s fallen off the roof.” Jeremy’s words hit like a punch to the gut, the colour draining from Evan’s face. The room goes deathly quiet, the weight of his words sinking in. The room spins as everything comes to a screeching halt.

Two months after Jake’s accident

Thursday, 16:42 pm

You settle into the cosy corner of his New York apartment, the city’s hustle muffled by the soft hum of the radiator. A rustic wooden desk hosting your work setup and a quirky lamp, which has seen better days but adds to the character, stands against the wall. A plush bean bag chair invites you to sink in while a baroque rug sprawls beneath your feet, and a bookshelf stuffed with books and random knick-knacks lurks by your side. Sunlight streams through light, breezy curtains, making it a perfect workspace for your remote routine. With Evan busy with press and meetings for the next few weeks, this place feels almost like a retreat—if only you could shake off the looming frustration of the Excel table before you.

You’d think by now you’d have mastered the art of not losing your shit at work, being the corporate girlie you are, while dealing with this stupid spreadsheet, but nope. Here you are, puffing like the Big Bad Wolf trying to blow down formulas that refuse to behave.

As you’re fighting and suffering through, your hand drifts toward your phone. You know how it goes. Brain’s fried, and next thing you know, you’re aimlessly scrolling through the endless pit of Instagram reels without even realising it. Well, this time it’s Evan’s name glowing like a beacon of your favourite “distraction,” and your stomach flutters, your heart racing.

Oh, hello, messages!

You open the chat, expecting a quick “I’ll be back in 10’, baby. Can’t wait to kiss you” text or maybe a meme about cats judging people (you know, standard fare). Instead, what do you find? A picture. But not just any picture. Oh no, this man, YOUR man, is standing there in a white tee, his pose giving swagger “yo” next to Todd McFarlane, a comic book legend. The whole shebang.

And here comes the string of messages:

“Babyyyy, look - Todd McFarlane in da house for the press conference!!”

“he’s signed the Amazing Spider-Man hardcopy!!”

“ill bring it home and we frame it ;)”

“we’re going live.. tune in xx”

“changed into the blazer and stripy tee you picked for me. Love you so ♥️”

Let’s pause here. Not at Todd McFarlane – who, mind you, is hands-down a god in his domain, but no. Your eyes, traitors that they are, keep sliding back to that picture of Evan.

Because damn.

Todd’s cool and all, but Evan in that white tee and messy curls? Where do you even begin? The man looks like he rolled out of bed straight into a photoshoot and decided to smoulder for no apparent reason. You know the one—that half-cocked sly smile that screams, “Yeah, I know what I’m doing to do, and you’re welcome.”

You catch yourself zooming in and drooling over him like a total goofball. The scrunched-up grimace. The luscious Tarzan hair. The way his eyes carry a hint of sadness and fatigue but with residues of that familiar spark he always has. It’s weird how something as simple as a picture can make your heart do that silly backflip thing over and over again after more than a year with him.

Snap out of it, girl. Spreadsheet’s waiting. But no, instead of getting back to formulas, your brain takes a little detour down Memory Lane. Suddenly, you’re remembering the last time Evan was kneeling in front of you. Not in some adorable, “let me tie your shoes, princess” way, but more of an arousing “let me worship you, queen,” Roman Empire situation.

Oh, yeah. That night.

You’d seized your throne aka that big armchair in the middle of the dimly-lit living room. And there he was, on his knees, completely surrendered to you. His tongue was lapping on your wet folds like you were the sweetest cake frosting he’d ever tasted. His slender fingers were plumping in and out of you in all the right spots as he slurped up your syrups and juices, sucking on your clit like it’s cherry on dessert.

His tongue would thrash and french kiss your puffy sobbing walls up near the throbbing bulb of your sensitive clit. You tugged on his hair, his brown curls wrapped around your fingers like reins as he pulled you apart, inch by inch. Your jaw tightened as his tongue and fingers mercilessly rutted into you, giving you crazed whiplash as you squirt, all while licking you clean with eager choked moans.

Your body tremors and orgasmic vibrations were seismic�� just like they are now as your cunt pulsates and aches for him, even though you’re sitting at the dining table, fully clothed and miles away from him.

Funny how memories can sneak up on you like that, isn’t it?

But here’s the kicker. As much as you’d love for a repeat performance, that’s not where you guys are at these days. Not since Jake fell off the roof at the party he hosted at his place. You get it–one of Evan’s best friends is in a hospital bed, clinging to life while in a coma, and Evan’s drowning in his own sea of emotions and sorrow. The man is dragging so much weight on his shoulders right now.

And you respect that. You really do. Your sex life has justifiably taken a backseat, but you’re not here to push or force him. What you have and share with him isn’t mere lust; you love him, and you acknowledge that he’s having it rough at the moment. You’ve been trying to be his rock, the one who keeps him grounded while he navigates the heavy blizzard of the tragedy.

But you can’t help it.

Sometimes, your mind slips back to those sizzling moments where your bodies speak in a language only you two comprehend. Because, let’s be real—he might be wearing the blazer you chose for him in the morning, but under all that fabric, you’re the one who gets to undress the real Evan. And if that’s not worth waiting for, you don’t know what is.

You sigh, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, but you’ve left the spreadsheets and work far behind with all those cheeky little fantasies that gnaw on your brain. Still knee-deep in wet daydreams of Evan and his—well, *coughing* talents, when the universe decides to slap you in the face with reality.

That “we’re going live, tune in xx” text blinks back at you from the chat, practically yelling to stop fantasising and actually be the supportive girlfriend you claim to be.

Gasp.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. Gasp again.

The press conference! You need to watch it. Like, now.

You scramble up from the table so fast, you’d think the chair is lava, and launch into a desperate hunt for the TV remote. The remote is like a cryptid—always hiding in the most inconvenient places at the worst times. Last week? In the fridge. Don’t ask. Today? Who knows. You’re flipping couch cushions like you’re on an archaeological dig.

“WHERE IS IT?!” you yelp, your high-pitched voice bouncing off the walls like you’re a banshee in panic mode. Female rage core.

Nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. It’s like the remote’s decided to pack its bags and set off to Narnia with no return ticket.

Curse you, technology masterminds.

Plan B.

You rush back to your laptop, slide your fingers along the trackpad to wake it up, and—oh no, what’s this? Your whole screen’s been hijacked by the most evil of phrases:

Software Update: 30% Complete.

Are. You. For. Real.

You stare at the loading bar like you can will it to go faster. Or pretend you’re not watching, so it speeds up. Smart but nah, that’s placebo—no such luck. This thing is moving slower than a Monday morning during rush hours, and if you wait for it, you’ll be watching Evan’s interview in the past tense or through his narration once he’s back home.

You let out a huff that could probably power a small wind turbine and whip out your phone, praying to every deity that your Wi-Fi doesn’t fail you amidst crisis.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter through gritted teeth, frantically tapping apps like your fingers are on caffeine overload. And just when you think someone is playing another cruel trick on you—boom, there it is. The live stream.

The screen lights up, and there comes baby Evan on stage, looking all sleek and profesh in his blazer (you knew the combo with the stripes underneath would work wonders *proud stylist smiling*). He’s sitting on a stool along with his co-stars, all of them gathered in this massive amphitheatre for their upcoming movie press tour.

He’s got the mic in his hand, finishing up a sentence with that smooth, husky tone. You know, that voice that sounds like a lullaby wrapped in velvet. But there’s also the twist of dorky humour and the cute brow furrows he taps into when he’s either totally in his element or way too awkward.

The interviewer gives him a nod, then sighs. Your stomach drops.

The next question is about Jake, as he’s guy well known for scripting some of the most beloved TV shows. If there were a Hall of Fame for TV writers, his star would be as big as a small planet. He’s adored by fandoms for his wit and creativity, and now you’re all grappling with the fallout from his misfortune.

You can see the shift in Evan’s face from media charm to something… darker, melancholic. He’s trying so hard to stay composed, but you know him. That tiny flicker of anguish behind his eyes filters through the cracks.

Evan takes a sharp breath and clears his throat. “Yeah, Jake was moved from LA and remains in ICU here in New York,” he admits, voice steady but edged with quiet vulnerability. “But there’s… a... there’s a glimmer of hope. He moved his hand today.”

For a second, the world stops spinning. Did he just say—? He moved?!

Your heart does a somersault, and you can’t help it—you cheer and clap right along with the audience, even though you’re alone in the living room in your mismatched socks, overstretched yoga shorts, and messy bun. Who cares, honestly? Jake moved his hand.

Evan lets the crowd’s enthusiasm bubble up for a second before he delicately taming it. “It’s good news,” he continues, his voice like a fuzzy blanket, soothing yet cautious. “But let’s not start planning the parade just yet—there’s a long road ahead for him. We’ll have to see how his health evolves from here. I just wanted to share this little nugget of hope. His family’s already spreading the word, and they gave me the green light to pass it on to all of you.”

There’s a tightness in his voice, and you can tell he’s got a fortress built around his emotions, probably fighting not to let it crumble in front of all those people and cameras. Your baby’s always been strong like steel this way, the type who carries everyone’s baggage on his shoulders without ever letting on how heavy it is.

You sit there, phone in hand, staring at his face on the screen. There’s so much going on behind those eyes, and you know he probably feels like crap underneath that calm exterior.

You wish you could reach through the screen and just be there with him in a “I’ve got you, you’re not alone” kind of way. You’ve been weathering this storm together, and it’s been tough as hell. It’s taken everything in him just to stay afloat, but he’s doing it. He’s really doing it...

There’s something about post-work Thursdays that sends you into this frantic, impulsive must-clean-everything-in-sight mode. Not that Evan cares if there’s a pile of laundry in the corner or if the dishes are threatening to stage a rebellion in the sink, but still. He doesn’t expect you to tackle it all just because you’re working fully from home; he can do it himself, but you want the place to look neat and tidy. You know, like “I have my life together and didn’t just spend the last two hours binge-watching cooking videos on YouTube” level of very demure, very mindful adulthood.

So here you are, in full-on cleaning tornado mode—scrubbing the counter with the kind of intensity that could probably burn calories—when your ears perk at the rustling sound.

That magical jingle of keys. The ignition. The click of the door unlocking.

Baby Evan’s home.

You drop the sponge like it’s on fire and just bolt. You don’t even think. It’s pure instinct, like you’re a puppy who heard the treat jar open. Your pulse leaps, your feet fly, and before you know it, you’re flinging the front door open just as he steps in. And there he is.

Your man. Your whole heart.

He’s got his arms full—takeout bags in one hand, his backpack slung over his shoulder, looking more mouth-watering than anything that could possibly be in those containers. His hair’s a little ruffled, his shirt rumpled from the day, but to you, he might as well be walking straight out of a rom-com.

“EVIEEEE!” you squeal, pouncing at him with the enthusiasm of a kid on a sugar high.

“Whoa!” he chuckles heartily, catching you mid-air. He spins you around even though you can sense the stiffness in his body as he battles not to drop the dinner. He’s out of breath, but he holds you tight, like he’s afraid to let go. His backpack slides down his arm, and for a second, you’re just tangled together—glued around him, his hands grasping on you firmly.

“Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?” he teases, his voice hoarse from the long day. But you can see it in his eyes—he’s just as hyped to be back in your little cocoon as you are.

“You have no idea,” you breathe, and before you can utter anything else, his lips are on yours, kissing you like he’s been starved for weeks. You’re pretty sure you hear the bags crinkle between you two, but whatever… they can wait.

It’s not just a kiss. Oh no, this is the you-just-got-kissed-senseless kind that says, “I’m never letting you out of my reach again.” It’s deep and sloppy, and you feel it all the way down your toes. Little lewd moans escape your bodies as your tongues greet each other, swirling around in a lustful dance. He tastes like toffee, baby powder, warmth, comfort, and home.

You melt into each other, completely forgetting about the bags or the fact that you’ve still got soap on your hands. You twirl faster together as his hands mischievously squeeze your ass, making you giggle into his mouth.

“I was counting the hours to get to you, Y/N, and time was a total bitch today,” he grumbles, and it’s a husky purr near the nape of your neck. Your plump lips curl into an “awh, my poor baby” pout, cupping his cheeks in your palms as you swarm his face with little pecks.

When he finally sets you down, you’re both grinning like idiots. Your heart’s doing cartwheels, and your stomach feels like you’ve swallowed a whole bunch of butterflies. You missed him. Not just having him around, but all the little things tied in—his laugh, his hands on you, the way he stares at you like you’re a precious gem.

Closing the door behind you, you pace together towards the kitchen, and get the itch to drop the question, “Did Jake really move?” Your voice is hopeful, but there’s a little tinge of fear there too. You know how much this means to Evan, so you need to tread about cautiously.

He pauses, chucking his backpack aside before turning to you. His eyes soften, and he nods, stepping closer. His hands find your waist again, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “Yeah. He really did.”

Before you can even process the relief, Evan’s lips are on yours again, soft whimpers rolling off him. This time, the kiss is slower, more tender like silky ribbons on your mouth. His lips trail from your mouth down to your neck, his breath tingly against your heated skin. “Gosh, how much I needed you today,” he whispers between kisses, his voice dense with emotion as he presses his mouth lower, toward the neckline of your sports bra. His fingers gently graze your sides and rest on your hip bones before massaging your ass, and your breath hitches.

You thread your fingers through his hair, feeling the tension melt out of him as his body leans into yours. “Me too,” you huff out, because honestly, you feel like you’ve been holding your breath all day, just waiting for him to come home.

But then you pull away slightly, the thought of Jake scratching the back of your mind. “Can we go see him now?”

Evan sighs, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath warm and steady. “Not tonight,” he exhales, taking a couple of steps back. “It’s just family. They wanna keep it low with the visits.”

You shake your head in acknowledgment, nervously biting your fingernail. You get it—you really do—but there’s still that little sting of disappointment tugging at your chest. “How ‘bout tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, glancing over at you again as he tears the bags apart and unpacks the food. “We’ll try tomorrow afternoon. His family’s still adjusting, but I’ll talk to them.”

The relief that washes over you is like a pleasant, summer breeze, calming your frayed nerves. Tomorrow. You let out a breathy, “Okay, great,” your shoulders finally loosening. As you approach him to help dispose of the bags, Evan’s hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist in one quick, playful motion, pulling you flush against him.

You barely have time to gasp before his lips crash against yours, his tongue barging in your mouth without warning, assaulting yours in tantalising ways that are better left unsaid. You loop your arms around the back of his head and drag him closer, your tits cushioning his shredded chest.

“Don’t leave, please,” he hushes, his lips caressing yours. His voice is huskier now, a bit rougher around the edges, and you can feel the warmth from his body merging with yours. His free hand slips down to the supple flesh of your waist again, fingers curling just under the hem of your top to tuck underneath.

You smirk against his mouth, tilting your head slightly. “You know, we do live together, sir” you tease, playfully pinching the tip of his nose.

“That’s a reminder in case you forgot,” he quips, nuzzling into the slope of your neck. His broad shoulders are curved over you from behind like a shield, throwing every organ in your body on high alert, your heart drumming violently.

He pulls back, and before you can react, he gives your ass a quick, cheeky smack that makes you jump. Your mouth drops open in surprise, but he just grins smugly, like he’s fully aware of what he’s done, and he’s proud of it.

“Hey!” you whimper, swatting at him, but there’s no denying your pulse thumps fiercely.

“What?” he squeaks sheepishly, throwing his hands up in exasperation, but the glint in his eye gives him away. “You look too good to keep my hands off. Plus, guess who was stuck in my head the whole day. Hint—it’s not the burgers,” he fires back, waggling his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes comically, but your heartbeat is up now. There’s something about the way he’s staring down at you—like he’s hungry, and it’s not just for the takeout. You notice it when he leans in again, this time with a heat that wasn’t there a moment ago. His lips trace a line of open mouthed kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. Your fingers twist around his shirt, gripping it, as his hands roam a little lower, tugging you closer until you can feel every ounce of him pressed against you.

“Speaking of burgers, if food’s your love language, then you’re speaking mine fluently,” you chuckle, but the second you catch the look Evan gives you—whoa, buddy. Food’s officially second on his menu. His eyes are a pair of flamed balls, fixed onto you like you’re the main course, dessert, and everything in between—like you’re the most appetising thing in the room.

And, let’s just say, he’s a lot more “warmed up” than usual. His kisses grow deeper, rougher, and the way he’s touching you are the real giveaway… The man’s practically simmering.

And oh, honey, you’re more than pleased to help him get away tonight. So, in your most casual, not-at-all-planned-in-your-head-already way, you decide tonight’s the night to put up a show… Literally.

You let your hands glide down his chest, feeling every erratic beat of his heart beneath his shirt. “You’ve been through a lot lately,” you murmur softly, your fingers dipping lower until you’re just hovering over his belt buckle, toying with the metal. “How about I pamper you tonight?”

You let your tongue slide over his upper lip, and damn if he doesn’t shudder. His eyes flash with thrill and curiosity—mixed with something darker, more primal. “Oh?” His voice comes out in this sexy rasp like he’s intrigued but still playing along, letting you lead for now.

You bite back a smug grin. Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for.

With a playful wink, you step back, making sure to drag your hand across his chest one last time. “Sit tight, big boy,” you purr, backing away with just the right amount of sway in your hips. “This show’s just getting started.”

You saunter down the hallway, feeling his gaze burning a path down your back. You can feel your heart pounding as you head into the bedroom, closing the door behind you. The second it clicks shut, you lean against it for a second to catch your breath. The adrenaline makes your hands quiver a little as you rummage through the drawer.

There it is: that little black number you’ve been saving for a night just like this.

A lacy, black lingerie piece, sheer in all the right places, hugging curves like it was made for you. You shimmy it on, adjusting the straps, making sure everything’s sitting just so.

A quick glance in the mirror as you set your hair free from the bun—tousled, sexy-but-effortless vibe, check. The lace hints at more than it conceals, and your lips curl into a slow smile. Oh, yeah, he’s done for. You toss on a silky robe, leaving it untied, the lace peeking through just enough to give him a preview. A little fragrance spritz and a light touch of your lipstick, and you’re sorted.

When you open the door and walk back into the living room, you find him perched on the couch, his eyes snapping to you like magnets, intense and feral, as you come into view. His posture is stiff, knuckles blanched as they grip the cushions like he’s holding on for dear life. His pupils, wide and black with want, devouring the sight of you as if you are something forbidden, yet irresistible.

His gaze lingers, darkening when it catches on the soft peek of skin where your robe parts. He swallows hard, audibly, and when you let the silky fabric slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet, his jaw clenches—hard (hint: and not just his jaw).

The low light of the room encases you as it casts a sensual glow over the room, deepening the shadows and sharpening the tension between you two like a blade.

“F-fuck,” he wheezes, like the breath’s been knocked clean and shallow out of him. He tries to maintain some semblance of self-control, but the sharp despair in his voice betrays him. He sinks deeper into the couch, spreading his legs slightly, shooting you this look that’s pure, unfiltered desire as he drinks you in.

You want to torture him, enjoying how his gaze rakes over every inch of you, so you slowly strut over to him. Each step is deliberate, your hips swinging in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that’s nothing short of tempting. His composure slips just a little more—a twitch in his jaw, a harsh swallow, the way his chest rises and falls, faster with every second. His eyes flick down to the curves, then back up to your scandalous tits before snapping back to your face.

The heat from his body radiates into yours as you come to a stop, your thighs rubbing against his knees, and his hands instinctively move to grab your waist. But you’re not giving in that easily. “Uh-uh,” you purr, wagging a teasing finger at him, your lips forming a sly smile.

His fingers freeze, but his eyes burn with frustration as you stretch, purposely slow, letting your ass hover just above his lap. The unmistakable press of his hardness through his jeans sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can’t help but smirk. “I’m in charge tonight, remember?”

Evan lets out a furious groan, his head falling back defeated against the cushions, hands flexing in silent restraint. The power you hold over him tonight? Oh, it’s delicious, addictive. You throw him one last, seductive glance before turning around, giving him the full view of your barely-there lingerie—delicate straps criss-crossing down your back and framing your ass like a gift he’s dying to unwrap.

You hear as a muttered curse slips past his lips, low and guttural. He’s so close to breaking, and you haven’t even actually started yet. You scroll through your phone’s playlist, cueing up the perfect song for the occasion. The room is soon filled with the slow, sultry beats of Beyoncé’s ‘Dance For You,’ wrapping around both of you like a spell. You start slow, letting the music guide your hips, rolling in hypnotic circles.

You saunter towards a nearby chair, aka your prop, bending over it as your body flows like liquid heat to the beat. His eyes religiously follow every motion, waiting, his breathing growing heavier like he’s holding on a thread with every flick of your hips, every arch of your spine.

You roam your fingers up my body, teasingly stopping at your hips before dragging them higher, skimming over your breasts. With agonising slowness, you untie your bra, holding his attention and eye contact hostage. The second the lace slips off your body, you toss it in his direction with a devilish grin. He catches it with a hungry grunt, burying his face in the fabric like a man possessed, his smirk turning malicious as he inhales deeply.

“God, you’re killing me,” he groans, eyes exploding with thirst for you. The sight of him, chest heaving, lips slightly parted—oh, it’s so sadistically satisfying.

You’re gonna make him beg for it.

Leaning forward, just enough for your bare breasts to graze his chest, you bring your lips up to his ear, hot breath fanning the side of his face, “Good,” voice dripping with a promise for more. You pull back just a fraction, your lips curving into a wicked smile. “I’m just getting started.”

You circle behind him, and he twists his head, tracking your every move, but you’re not finished (no pun intended).

“Please, Y/N. Come sit on my lap, or my face…just—” His voice breaks, raw and pleading, his body squirming as he shifts, desperate for release. The power thrumming through your veins is out of this world, and you bite your bottom lip knowing you’ve got him right on the edge.

You start with the lightest touch, dragging your fingers over the hard lines of his shoulders, tracing down the sculpted muscles of his chest, feeling the shudder that runs through him as you slide lower. Your fingers brush over the taut muscles of his thighs.

His stiff length twitches beneath your touch, his growl of desire low and animalistic. His hands stretch again, desperate to reach for you, but you chuckle softly, knowing he’s at your mercy tonight. His usual command is gone, flipped on its head, and that hunger in his eyes tells you he’s loving every second of it.

The music pulses through the room as you circle back around to him. You bend low, your curves on full display, just close enough for him to grab a handful of your ass with an eager groan that rumbles through his chest. He finally pulls you into him, lips attacking your skin, trailing down your spine with feverish kisses as he peels your thong off. His breath brushes against your slit and clit as he descends, his lips so dangerously close it sends your body humming with desire.

He can smell your fertility; the pheromones emitting from your body intensify his animal instinct to breed. His breathing is erratic now, his body practically vibrating with need to take you, but you still “hold the leash.”

He breaths come out in heavy bursts as he watches you straddle him, knees planted on either side of his hips. You grind down slowly, feeling the friction as you move in slow, sensual circles. His hands latch onto your thighs, his grip harsh and desperate, leaving marks that make your skin tingle. But still, you don’t let him seize control. Not yet.

Leaning in, you pepper steamy kisses along his neck, feeling his rapid pulse beneath your lips, your teeth tracing the sharp edge of his jawline. You tenderly bite at his earlobe, and he growls lowly, his hands spasming with despair to grab you, but even then, you won’t allow him to touch you the way he wants.

“The more you resist, the harder I’ll fuck you,” he warns with a hiss, his voice dark. It’s a threat and a vow all rolled into one that sends a heat pooling between your thighs.

“Perfect,” you retort in a hushed whisper against the shell of his ear, lips barely brushing the corner of his mouth—teasing but not quite giving in. “That’s the idea, baby.”

You’re serving cunt, and he knows it well.

With a slow, calculated slide, you lower yourself down his body, your hands stripping him of his blazer as you go. You let your hands trace over his thighs and the hardened, erected mound in between. Kneeling between his legs, you lock eyes with him, watching the way his breath stutters, anticipation swirling in the air. Slowly, you unbuckle his belt, your fingers stroking his length just enough to drive him nuts as he lets out a shaky gasp.

You pop the button on his jeans and pull down the zipper with your teeth. The second you free him from the tight confines of denim, his aching cock springs out, pulsing with raw desire for you, the fabric of his boxers barely able to contain him.

You glance up at him again with a smug smile before leaning down, your lips brushing along his head. His hips buck instinctively, a ragged groan tearing from his throat. But you take your time, taunting him with light flicks of your tongue.

Finally, you wrap your lips around him, licking his sensitive red tip with the end of your tongue. You swirl it around and lap up the shiny little pearls of precum that keep seeping out in his pent-up arousal. “F-fuuuck, Y/N. You’re gonna make me blow in a sec,” he grunts out with a hitched voice as you take his whole size in your mouth.

Your eyes flash up at him, filled with mischief as you take him deeper, your lips stretching to fit his full size. “Isn’t that the point?” you murmur, your voice on a seductive octave. “I want you to cum hard... fucking hard all over me.”

Your fingers trace the thick vein along the underside of his shaft before squeezing his hardness and pumping with a fast and firm tempo. Your hand works in sync with your mouth as you suck the upper half of his delicious cock, pulling him in and out, each movement making him gasp and buckle uncontrollably.

His head falls back, eyes screwed shut, muscles tensing. Some inaudible drabble slips off him as he thrusts into your mouth. Pools of saliva are pouring out of the edges of your lips, your eyebrows knitted together as you keep gagging at his cock hitting the back of your throat. You push further, your lips tight around him as you meet his gaze once more, your eyes wild with intensity. His fingers weave into your hair, but he doesn’t force you—he doesn’t have to. You’re in the saddle tonight, guiding him closer to his magical release.

Your hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining as your head bobs up and down on him, earning little moans of delight from his chest. He’s a hot mess; trembling under the weight of the pleasure you’re generously giving him as you slide your mouth down his dick, your cheeks hollowed in a blend of sensual sucks and frantic pumps.

The sound of you gagging, the wet slurp of your lips, and the way you glance up at him so innocently, brow furrowed with effort, has him reeling. “Ahh, yeah, keep going,” he breathes out, biting his bottom lip.

He gets a good yet gentle grasp of your hair, thrusting into your mouth in shallow, desperate strokes, but you maintain control, building him up slowly, methodically. He adores your lips, especially the way they loop around his dick and release these mewling sounds against it.

But now, his whole body is shuddering, his cock jerking inside, and you can feel the tell-tale sign he’s about to bust his load in your mouth. The blood rushes to his dick, draining any sane thought and cell in his brain, leaving him driven only by his primal instinct and craving for climax.

You slide onto his throbbing cock once more, gobbling on it like the insatiable whore you are. He presses your head down and keeps you there for a few seconds. As you detach from his member to draw a breath, his body immediately locks up, his abs contracting, and then—he’s there.

His head snaps back as he erupts shivering whimpers of your name, painting your face with copious amounts of his thick, white, and deliciously salty cum, his release spilling over your lips.

You open your mouth, tongue stretched out, catching the last drops as you pump him, milking every ounce of his release. His cum drips down your chin, and you let your fingers swipe off the remnants from your face, licking them off slowly, savouring the taste. Nothing goes to waste as you look up at him, lips wet, cheeks flushed with the aftermath of his orgasm.

“You’re one hungry bitch, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice strained, still shaky from the intensity of his high. He laughs weakly, dragging his thumb across your cheek with a tender caress, though his hard-on still convulses, not quite ready to soften. He winces as he tries to adjust himself, zipping up his jeans with difficulty, but the look of satisfaction on his face is unmistakable.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, licking your lips as you flash him a sly, knowing smirk. His chest rises and falls heavily, his face reddish, eyes droopy, still lost in the haze of afterglow.

Without wavering your eyes from him, you crawl up and climb to his lap, feeling your pussy drip with every inch of his skin that presses against you. He ogles your naked torso like a dog drooling over the bone. You position yourself just right, his semi-clothed swollen tip nudging against your slippery entrance.

“I am hungry for you, baby,” you purr with a pout as your fingertips draw lazy circles over the ridges of his abs. His eyes darken, filled with a renewed lust as he watches you, licking his lips like a predator eyeing its prey.

Letting out a dark, throaty chuckle, he wastes no time—he hammers his lips against yours, shoving his tongue deep into your mouth and kissing you with reckless abandon. His hands greedily paw at your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging them just hard enough to make you moan against his lips.

The arousal between you is electric as your body grinds against his, the friction sending sparks flying through you both; it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you are about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.

His hands hook around your ass cheeks before delivering a sharp, stinging slap that makes you yelp in pleasure, the sound echoing through the room. You press your lips harder against his with a mewl, tongues tangling.

“Evan,” you hush out between sloppy kisses, barely coherent amidst loud teeth smacking and clashing together. All thanks to his fingers dipping between your legs, teasing your clit with maddening eights as he grins victoriously, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you.

“My slut’s ready for me?” he hums, giving your ass another smack, the sound of flesh against flesh making you quiver with delight. Your hips swerve on his raging boner, the body-against-body friction igniting an ever-powerful spark within you both. To say you’re a ‘mere’ tease for him is an understatement.

“You’re doing so good, my baby girl,” he gruffs, and his rough, veiny hands glide possessively toward your rocking waist as you begin to rub yourself against his thigh, slowly... teasingly. Every roll of your hips has him biting his lip, his eyes glued to the way your body moves against him.

“You’re in night care, baby boy, remember?” you hush, your voice laced with dominance as you lift your hips, fingers deftly undoing his trousers again. Your hand wraps around his cock, positioning him at your slick slit. Slowly, achingly slow, you sink down onto him, inch by inch. The stretch forces a moaning gasp out of you as your body adjusts to accommodate his size. Fiery electricity surges through you both, and he hisses watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock.

His hands tighten on your hips as you take him deeper, your nails digging into his biceps when he bottoms out, filling you completely. The fullness makes you shudder, your breath leaving you in a jagged burst as his tip presses snugly against your cervix. The deep groan that escapes his throat vibrates through your body, making you clench around him involuntarily, his hips stilling cautiously.

You start to move, rolling your hips in slow, languid circles, setting a rhythm that’s equal parts torture and bliss for both. His hands grip you harder, leaving faint red imprints on your flushed flesh, but he doesn’t push or pull—he’s letting you have the upper hand in riding him, his eyes dark and hungry as he admires you, mouth parted. The way he’s looking at you though? Like you’re a goddess descending from the heavens just for him. Oh, that does something to you.

“Look at you, baby. So fucking gorgeous, taking me like that,” he murmurs, pride and desire dripping from every word. A crooked smile is etched on his face hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds as they cling to his cock. Every thrust, every grind, every little whimper from your lips makes his large member throb inside you, stretching you deliciously as you plop up and down on him.

You lean down, sealing your lips in a hungry, desperate kiss, your tongues twirling in a messy dance. It’s all teeth and moans again as he hits that sweet spot deep inside. It’s the type of kiss that makes time stop, like nothing else exists except for the raw, primitive connection between you two.

His hands trail up your bare back, fingers tangling in your hair, keeping you close as you grind down harder. Your bodies move in sync, perfectly attuned to each other, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you with every movement. His eyes dart down to your bouncing breasts and toned stomach, but you quickly grab his jaw, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “Nu-uh,” you whisper against his lips, your voice tinged with authority. “Eyes on mine, boy.”

He lets off a hearty chuckle, even going so far as to wriggle your ass back against him. “You feel so damn amazing, baby,” he huffs, voice rough with desire, talking over your whiny babbles. He cranes his neck to kiss the edge of your jaw before tenderly nipping at the skin.

Panting heavily, you exhale, “I could do this all night.” Your hips move faster, sliding up and down his thick length, the friction sending bolts of euphoria through you. His breathing grows ragged, and you can feel the tension rising, winding tighter and tighter. You’re so soft—sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.

He lets out a low groan, barely holding himself together as your walls squeeze around him. “Thaaat’s it, hngh. This pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen, realising the shift in dynamic—he’s reclaimed control, already winning ground, sis. Before you know it, his plumpish tip drills further between each corner of your dripping cunt. Your small sobs amplify as he starts to move beneath you, his hips thrusting up harder, making your entire body quake with each deep pound.

“I love fucking you so much,” he grunts, nearly whining, his head tilting back as his cock jerks inside you.

Before you can fully catch your breath, Evan’s grip tightens on your hips. With one fluid motion, he lifts you off him, his arms hook beneath your thighs. You gasp, caught off guard, your body hanging in his grasp as he stands up, practically growling with primal need.

“You’re mine now,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, sending a bolt of excitement straight down your spine.

Without hesitation, he spins you around, carrying you across the room, your legs instinctively bundling around his waist. You’re in such a sweet, sexual brain fog that it takes you a second to get what’s going on. With one swift movement, he sweeps his arm across the dining table, sending glasses, cutlery, and whatever else is there crashing to the floor in a chaotic symphony of clatters.

“Evan!” You giggle dazedly, hands clasping on his shoulders as he sets you down on the table, the cold wood against your back making you shiver—but not nearly as much as the fire blazing in his eyes.

He leans over you and shushes you with a kiss, his lips brushing against yours as he pushes your legs apart. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You don’t have time to argue—not that you want to. He grabs your hips, yanking you to the very edge of the table, his body wedged firmly between your legs. There’s no remorse in his eyes—just pure, animalistic desire. One hand snakes under your ass, the other glides down your left thigh, lifting it effortlessly over his broad shoulder. The way he leans down and looks at you now, almost in slow motion... gosh. It’s like you’re the only thing he’s ever needed… like nothing else matters but taking you right here, right now, and it sets your entire body on fire.

He wants to smash, and he’ll get it.

The scent of your cunt is intoxicating, stirring every primal instinct inside Evan that he knows he must keep in check. He draws his hips back slowly, only his tip nestling inside you, then jams just once inside you. Your whole body jumps at the impact, your pleading eyes boring deep into his, a breathy hum punched out of you. He pulls back and slams forward again, growling through his teeth. Your pillowy walls are cuddling him, his heavy balls aching to be drained, eager to breed the fertile womb his tip is wedged against.

His hands roam up your thighs, grasping you like he can’t get enough. With each slow, deliberate stroke, he sinks deeper into you, your body arching off the table in response. The sensation of him rutting in and out of your sobbing sex is overwhelming—every movement has your breath hitching, your fingers clutching the edge of the table, desperate for some kind of anchor.

Your orgasm is building again, fast and intense. As the pressure inside you give way to climax, tears cascade down your burning cheeks, your features contorted in ecstasy.

“E-Evan, I can’t take it! T-too much!”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Say please, baby,” he grits out, his voice low and commanding. His hips thrust into yours harder, making you lose all sense of logic. Your mind is blank, mouth hanging open, unable to form words as the pleasure consumes you.

“P-please,” a pained mewl tumbles out of you, and that single word tips him off the edge. His hips stutter, and with a series of deep thrusts along with a carnal chant of “ah, ah, ah, ah” pouring from his lips, he gushes inside you—creamy gooey ropes of cum dribble into you, not missing at all.

He’s panting heavily, hips jerking involuntarily as he empties himself, filling you to the brim with thick, sticky cum.

His groans of satisfaction blend with your breathy moans as you cling to him, feeling his weight stick against your skin like it’s adhesive. You bite into the soft skin of his neck, muffling your whimpers as he continues to thrust lazily, drawing out every last bit of his orgasm.

“Come for me,” he demands, his voice low and raspy, each word filled with the same raw desire that’s coursing through your veins. “I wanna feel you.”

That’s it—the words, the intensity, the feeling of him completely owning your body, claiming you in a way that makes your head spin—have you on a chokehold. You suck in lungfuls of air as the incoming pangs of orgasmic waves smash over you with impossible force. You can’t hold back the loud moans spilling from your lips, your body arching up and writhing beneath him as you come hard, your walls spasming around his cock.

He presses his forehead to yours, his hand gently stroking your cheek, his breath hot against your lips. Your body convulses uncontrollably in his arms as he rides out your climax with you, his cock still throbbing inside your over-sensitive core.

As you come down, your breaths laboured and uneven, he buries his head to your chest, his mouth warm against your skin as his kisses travel down to your boobs, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples. Each subtle touch sends aftershocks of pleasure through you, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all.

You huff, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. “You’re a menace, you know that?” you whisper, still trying to catch your breath. But he’s not done yet. You giggle softly as he moves lower, planting tingly smoochies to your skin, his breath like a warm breeze against your thighs.

“You smell like honey… I wanna taste you,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the soft curve of your inner thigh. His fingers part your sloping folds, spreading you open for him as he watches the glistening cum leak from your swollen pussy. His primitive need to eat you up tests his sense of control.

His tongue plunges between your labia, stretching them up with a slow and deliberate lick. Your thighs quiver around his head in the aftershocks of your climax, straining moans and semi-shrieks falling from your lips as his tongue dives deeper between your folds. The wet sound of him slurping up the mix of your juices and his cum is obscene, but it only drives you wilder, especially as he mumbles the moto, “Y/N... Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Your fingers lace in his drenched thick, curly brown locks, holding him in place. The untamed animal inside him is finally sated, fed well at the meal between your thighs. His teeth sink ever-so-lightly into the plump pout of your lips, and you can’t stop the desperate little wails flipping from your throat.

Your eager pussy can’t help but drool. Streams of your slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers. With a rosy flat tongue, he pads and licks you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers in—only to push them right back out. As he re-enters, he pokes against your g-spot again, and again, and again…

That’s all it takes for the sharp twisting coil to snap within you for the second time, and your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp. “Fuck, fuck,” you choke out, your breath coming in hollow bursts as you feel his hushed praises and loving words ghost against your clit. You can’t stay still for the life of you—it’s as if every muscle in your body rips apart once you come into his mouth, your jaw slackened and your eyes widened.

“Ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and Evan’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.

You’re making a mess out of him, and he’s still eating it up—the dedication. His chin got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your slick running down. With an echoing pop, he slides his fingers off your pussy, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. The shaking from your multiple orgasmic release keeps on, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.

“Mmph, Y/N. So beautiful,” he cries out, his voice cracking with emotion as he presses a kiss to your swollen, sensitive lips. Your sweet slickness smears against his stubble even more, but he couldn’t care less. All that matters is you, lying there beneath him, glowing with the outcome of your pleasure.

Evan’s gaze lingers on you for a long moment, his chest still heaving as he melts in the sight of you—flushed, trembling, thoroughly wrecked from the intensity of what just happened. His hand gently strokes your thigh, trailing up and down in soothing circles as the both of you come down from the high together.

Propping your weight on your elbows, you stare down on him, a lazy grin playing at the corners of your lips. You pull him up for a sloppy, rough kiss. Your fingers pinch on his well-defined jaw as he rests on top of her. You can feel his stiff length press against her stomach, and it feels great.

You reach up to brush his damp hair from his forehead. “You really know how to leave a girl breathless,” you mumble teasingly, though your voice is barely above a whisper, still catching.

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your palm. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers, and you giggle softly, the sound light and airy.

You lay there for a while, the after-sex haze still buzzing through your veins. Evan’s sprawled out on the sofa, shirtless. His hair is all tousled, looking like some kind of model from a cologne ad—except sexier, and definitely more accessible. You watch him, feeling a dopey grin spread across your face. This man… God, this man.

You pull yourself up, snuggling into that familiar blue blanket from the edge of the couch—the one you always steal when it’s movie night, or when you’re feeling cosy after a particularly intense workout (aka “fuck time”).

“You look like a smurf burrito,” Evan quips, his hand lazily draped across his abs as he watches you pace around the room.

You snort, cuddling deeper into the blanket. “Better than looking like a sweaty, shirtless disaster.” You throw him a wink and a brow waggle, but honestly, the view is prime real estate right now. That man should charge admission.

He smirks smugly, running a hand through his messy curls. “Sweaty, shirtless disaster, huh? I was under the impression you were enjoying said disaster inside you just a few minutes ago.”

“Touché,” you giggle as you flop down the sofa, letting your head fall back against the armrest. “But the jury’s still out on whether I enjoyed it or tolerated it.”

“Oh, is that so?” His eyebrow quirks, and that playful gleam you love so much flickers back in his eyes. He leans forward, crawling towards you on the sofa with that predator-like grace, his hands landing on either side of your bundled-up self.

“Maybe.” You bite your lip, trying to keep a straight face, but your heart's already doing flips at the way he’s looking at you. Damn, those eyes.

“Hmm. Well, maybe I should just—” Evan dips down, his lips grazing your ribcage, making you gasp. You wriggle away playfully, pulling the blanket up higher as if it’s some kind of armour.

“Okay, okay! I loved it. Five stars on Yelp, glowing review and a side of fries.” You’re laughing now, barely able to keep up the act.

Evan chuckles triumphantly, that warm, rumbling sound that makes your pulse leap in your throat. “Five stars? Well, that must make me the Michelin Man of love.”

“Please,” you laugh, “the only thing you’re qualifying for is most likely to be found with a pizza slice in hand.”

His grin widens, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Well, speaking of pizza, how about we start planning our wedding menu? I’m thinking pepperoni and extra cheese for the wedding cake. You know, something to make the guests feel like they’re in a pizzeria.”

You roll your eyes, giggling at his ridiculousness. “So, pizza-themed wedding, huh? What are we going to serve? Breadsticks as the bouquet?”

“Absolutely! And the best part? I’ll have a pepperoni ring!” He starts mimicking a ring toss, and you can’t help but crack up.

“Oh wow, my future husband is a real romantic,” you say, shaking your head in mock disbelief.

But then Evan leans in closer, his expression turning serious, and you feel the air shift. “But really, I want to make sure I don’t just slice into this whole ‘life together’ thing. I want to do it right. So, how about we order that wedding cake now because…” He reaches into his pocket, and your heart skips a beat as he pulls out a small velvet box.

You narrow your eyes in suspicion as you sit up. “What are you doing? Is this some kind of prank”

“Well, not exactly a prank. Unless you think proposing is some kind of joke.”

Your heart stops.

“What?” The word barely squeaks out, and you’re pretty sure your brain just exploded. Did he—did he just say proposing?

Evan’s mouth pulls into this soft smile, and before you know it, he’s dropping to one knee on the sofa. “I mean, I’ve got the ring and all that the protocol requires,” he mutters and your eyes bulge, mouth agape. “...and I don’t want to waste another minute from making you my wife!”

Your heart stops.

You leap up from the sofa, shaky hands flying to your mouth, shock flooding your system. The blanket almost slips off, eyes wide and heart pounding like you’re on the world’s most chaotic and steepest rollercoaster. Did he—did he also just say wife? “Are you serious?”

“Y/N,” he starts, his voice a little shaky but full of that Evan confidence that always makes you feel like the only person in the room, “I’ve been through a lot lately. We both have. But the one constant through it all—through the tough days and the good ones, the sleepless nights and the mornings I wake up next to you—is that I want every single day to be with you.”

Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, he’s really doing this.

“From the moment I saw you in that club, I never looked away. We started off with a bang, quite literally, but I’ve felt like I’ve known you my whole life and won the love lottery. You’re my jackpot. The reason I smile—even when I feel like I’ve hit every bump on the road. You make even the ordinary feel extraordinary, and I want to make this last forever.”

Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, he’s really doing this. Your pulse hammers so loud you swear he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.

“So here I am, making it official, ready to take a gamble on the biggest bet of my life. Will you marry me and make me the luckiest man on the planet?” He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen—a subtle and stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.

You can’t even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart throbs so hard, you’re sure it’ll burst out of your chest.

“You drive me crazy in the best way possible. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime, my favourite person to order burgers with. I want to spend the rest of my life making you laugh, making you mad, and maybe every now and then... sweeping plates off the table to get to you faster.” He smirks, his eyes twinkling.

“Evan!” you gasp, half-laughing through your tears, remembering the chaos from a few minutes ago.

He chuckles heartily, but there’s something so tender in his expression now. “So, will you do me the honour of marrying me?” He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen—a simple yet stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.

You can’t even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.

“Yes!” you shout, your voice breaking with joy as you toss the blanket aside and fling yourself into his arms, knocking him backward onto the sofa. He laughs as you straddle his waist, hugging him tight, tears of joy streaming down your face.

“I love you,” you whisper breathlessly, kissing him hard, your heart swelling with so much love it feels like it might burst.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, smiling up at you as you kiss him again, both of you tangled in this beautiful, overwhelming moment.

He slips the ring onto your finger, and you hold your hand up, marvelling at how perfectly it fits—how perfectly it all fits.

And as you both lie there, wrapped up in each other and the ridiculousness of the moment, Evan chuckles. “So, Smurf burrito, looks like you’re stuck with me for life.”

You laugh, smothering his face with smoochies of aggressive cuteness magnitude. “Lucky me. Now... about those burgers? I’m still hungry.”

Evan grins, pulling you closer. “First, how about I show you just how well I can speak your love language?”

“Burgers first, then more disaster sex,” you tease, giggling as he tries to tickle you.

“Deal,” he whispers, stealing another kiss, because honestly, in this moment, you’re the best thing on the menu.

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Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling, @babymazz

Announcement

This might not be a forever goodbye, and who knows, a spinoff of this series might pop up someday, but this is going to be the final part, y’all. I’ll admit, I sometimes feel like I’m navigating through a tiny room with towering walls in this digital space; like my creative expression is being restricted and policed, and I cannot fully communicate or channel my “writing persona,” if you will, in here. Still, every bit of your love and support has made it worth it. I’ve poured so much into this world, and Evan, well… he’s been an incredible muse through it all. So, thanks a bunch, truly. xx

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yolkema · 9 months ago

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365 Days = 1 Year Lifespan For TS2

this is basically my first mod upload, and it's a mod that i won't even be using lmao. i felt like making this on a whim cause i thought the idea sounded funny, but the game might not even be able to handle sims living this long. who knows. i would say to Use At Your Own Risk if your game starts struggling with this lifespan! here's the SFS link, in case you want to use this mod for some reason: download now onto the changes ------------------------------ Sim Lifespan: Baby = 365 Days (0-1 year old, 1 year long) Toddler = 1095 Days (2-4 years old, 3 years long) Child = 2920 Days (5-12 years old, 8 years long) Teenager = 2190 Days (13-17 years old, 5 years long) Adult = 15330 Days (18-59 years old, 42 years long) Elders by default can live a minimum of 5 years (1825 days), and a maximum of 29 years (10585 days). Plantsims use the same amount of days as their respective lifestages. Pets Lifespan: 🐕 Puppies = 365 Days (1 year long) Adult Large Dogs = 3650 Days (10 years long) Elder Large Dogs = 1460 Days (4 years long) Adult Small Dogs = 4380 Days (12 years long) Elder Small Dogs = 1460 Days (4 years long) 🐈 Kittens = 365 Days (1 year long) Adult Cats = 5110 Days (14 years long) Elder Cats = 1460 Days (4 years long)

Sims and pets will age every day at 12:00 am instead of 6:00 pm.

Seasons generally last around 90 days each, fitting all 4 seasons into one year.

Pregnancy for Sims last about 273 days, which is 9 months. (note: i didn't test this in-game but i'm pretty sure it should work, lol)

Pet pregnancy lasts for 60 days.

------------------------------ if you wanted to use this unironically, i would heavily suggest using mods to up the difficulty of the game in general, so that your sims don't top out their careers and get married and have children by the age of 20. while making this mod, i forgot to make a university span. oops. have fun! (if you don't die of old age irl before your sims do)

#ts2 #the sims 2 #sims 2 #sims #sims 2 mod #ts2 mod #sims 2 lifespan #ts2 lifespan #sims 2 custom lifespan #ts2 custom lifespan #sims 2 mods #ts2 mods

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 19 days ago

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all Jaehyun imagines can be found here personal favorites are marked with ☆

last updated December 3 , 2024

⋆⭒˚｡⋆fratboy!Jaehyun masterlist⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Pick me posted October 12, 2020

After getting engaged, Johnny and Taeyong keep fighting over who gets to be the best man

[5:42 pm] posted July 25, 2021

Jaehyun is uncharacteristically clingy

☆ [9:33 am] posted December 18, 2021

(suggestive) Jaehyun can’t control himself this early in the morning after a simple kiss

[6:31 pm]

BestFriend!Jaehyun finally gives you your first bouquet of flowers ever

☆ [6:19 pm] posted December 17, 2022

Dad!Jaehyun talks to pregnant!reader’s belly

☆ [7:41 am] posted January 29, 2023

Saturdays are supposed to be sleeping in but Dad!Jaehyun has other plans

☆[8:34pm] posted July 2, 2023

Brother’s Best Friend!Jaehyun comes to pick you up after a bad date and can’t help flirting and flustering you

[9:13 pm] posted September 2, 2023

Jaehyun can get a little jealous when a bartender is talking to you for too long

[10:13 pm] posted October 28, 2023

supposed situationship!Jaehyun hates that you’re watching tiktok edits of Pookie

[8:57 pm] posted November 5, 2023

You told Jaehyun you were going out for Halloween, but you didn’t tell him how sexy your costume was

[9:12 am] posted January 6, 2024

Jaehyun makes the mistake of hanging out with a girl he knew from school, the only mistake being he didn’t tell you who… and he never came home

[8:59 pm] posted January 20, 2024

Jaehyun is just a little shocked to see what his contact name is in your phone

[11:04 pm] posted February 17, 2024

idol!reader and idol!Jaehyun get their relationship exposed at a Bruno Mars concert

[8:46 pm] posted February 24, 2024

you’ve never really dated anyone before so it really only makes sense that since he gets you flowers, you get him some in return right?

your biggest fan posted February 25, 2024

{western popstar!reader x idol!reader} in which the world discovers your relationship with Jaehyun and surprisingly… they love it

[3:21 pm] posted March 3, 2024

in relationships you have to make sacrifices, and for Jaehyun that means eating food he doesn’t really like since you love it

☆[12:11 pm] posted April 21, 2024

dad!Jaehyun isn’t going to say he’s jealous of his daughter and Uncle Johnny- but you can say it

[9:22 pm] posted May 25, 2024

AcademicRival!Jaehyun is the last person you’d expect to help you out after you get in a fight {enemies2lovers, college!au}

[10:14 am] posted May 26, 2024

if you weren’t 2 weeks overdue, Jaehyun being doting would be really sweet- but you are 2 weeks overdue and it’s not sweet

[12:07 pm] posted June 8, 2024

dad!Jaehyun doesn't have your talent of getting his baby girl to eat, or your common sense of keeping the food out of her grasp

[4:59 pm] posted June 22, 2024

Jaehyun watched the Bridgerton carriage scene with you and gets hooked on the show

☆[3:22 pm] posted July 6, 2024

Jaehyun is completely enamored by your pregnancy glow

[4:51 pm] posted July 13, 2024

you and dad!Jaehyun take your kids to the water park and the lazy river works some magic

showering Jaehyun's dimples with love posted August 15, 2024

[12:41 pm] posted August 16, 2024

pregnancy is hard enough as is, but now you're on bed rest? Thank God for Jaehyun (cw: pregnancy complications)

[3:11 pm] posted August 17, 2024

you and Jaehyun were supposed to be baby shopping but Smiskis and Sonny Angels caught your eye instead

just makes sense posted August 22, 2024

your and Jaehyun’s fans just really can’t believe that they two of you are just best friends

self-on kode with Jaehyun posted September 27, 2024

You and Jaehyun usually have a pretty private relationship, thanks to Self-On Kode your fans can learn more (f!reader, idol!reader)

[1:17 pm] posted September 29, 2024

dad!Jaehyun helps you when you're overwhelmed with a colicky baby

Jaehyun doing acts of service! posted October 3, 2024

dad!Jaehyun and shopping with the kids! posted October 11, 2024

[3:17 pm] posted October 12, 2024

dad!Jaehyun gets ambushed by you and his daughters for a makeover

dad!Jaehyun lets you and the kids play with his hair! posted November 1, 2024

[6:58 pm] posted November 4, 2024

You're feeling sad about Jaehyun's enlistment so he comforts you

#nct 127 masterlist #nct masterlist #masterlist

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rizsu · 2 years ago

Text

project: i'm going insane suna rintarō.

sum. when a project brings together two students & possible crushes. ( no part two sry !! )

a quiet room with only the sweet melody of birds singing tales as the sun kisses your skin. ah, how sweet. it's such a blessing—being lost in paradise as you gaze upon the dancing flowers. truly a magicial scenery! oh, how divine. how divine it is indeed—

“students are to pair up with their deskmate for the project.”

right, you're still in class. reality is truly a pain. you really could've been listening to the sweet melody of birds but instead you got the sweet melody of hell (school).

you haven't turned to face your partner yet. you're not gonna face suna rintaro right now—especially not after he witnessed you graciously trip on nothing this morning.

“so are you gonna talk or are you gonna continue looking at me every five seconds from the side of your eye?” suna asked, tilting his head into his palm while he knocks his pen against the desk.

“i'd rather not honestly.”

“i don't care about your excellent fall this morning, y/n.”

that got it. that sentence awards itself as the sentence that made you whip your head to suna.

“don't spread lies. anyways, what're we gonna do for that project?”

raising his eyebrow, suna thinks. what are you guys going to do actually? he's sure that he'd forget about the whole project after three days.

“i dunno,” he shrugs, typing in random numbers into his calculator before continuing, “here, save my number we can talk more about it later.”

leaning into his side of the desk, you secretly pull your phone out from your bag, trying to save his contact as fast as you can before your homeroom teacher turns back facing the class.

“why the fuck did you save me as ‘some hoe’?!”

“mind your business.”

ಇ. AT HOME

it's 7 pm. you're just coming out of the shower, patting your face with a towel before reaching for your phone.

i should text suna, you think. double tapping your screen, you eyes widen slightly in surprise. it seems as though the other party had the same plans as you did.

snickering at the spammed messages, you opened his chat.

“what a fucking loser.” giggling at his text, you place your phone down going back to finishing your nightly routine.

ಇ. NEXT DAY

if there's one word to describe your mood right now it'll be annoyed. it's far too early for anything nor do you have the time and patience to talk with anyone at 06:45 am. releasing your earbuds from its jail, you put both on at max volume and try to continue your previous slumber.

“no way you're sleeping right now.” a soft voice speaks, the owner of the voice wraps his palm around your neck squeezing it a little.

you don't respond. you know what they say, don't respond to the devil!

oh but that doesn't stop suna. not at all! who is he if not your number one bully? suna knows your aware that he's next to you so how dare you ignore him! clicking his tongue, the boy pulls out one of your buds and places it in his ear before sitting down copying the exact way you're sitting.

suna looks at you. his eyes scanning through your features with a small smile. you're pretty, really. he notes every little feature on you mentally—noting how you always have two fringes/braids framing your face, noting how you actually fell asleep, noting how good your music taste is.

lemme save these songs too, suna thinks. he reaches over for your phone before dropping his hoodie on you. it's quite cold this morning and he'd rather not hear your ten-thousand complaints when you wake up from the nap.

──

“CAN YOU NOT WALK SO FAST?!”

“can't help that i'm an athlete.”

“NO ONE CARES! SLOW DOWN A LITTLE.”

it's 5:42 pm, the beams of the evening sky color the area in its glory. it'd be a beautiful scenery if two teenagers weren't bickering down the street.

a young boy, around six feet tall, walks with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a yogurt. behind him stands a young girl, around (your height), walks with anger as she playfully throws her school bag at the boy.

“keep hitting me and see if i won't throw you down the street.” the boy says, wiggling his finger at the girl as he warns her.

“are you trying to tussle and bussle?” the girl answers back, rolling her eyes at him.

“bussle... what is your vocabulary?” the boy questions, fighting back a smile. he finds her sentence amusing.

“don't question it. anyways, can we go to a café?”

“yeah, i'll grab some snacks for my sister too.”

and so, they set off (still bickering).

ಇ. MIDNIGHT

giggling at your convo, you smile hard before coming to realization.

“did i just fucking giggle at suna?!” questioning yourself out loud, you raise one eyebrow before switching off your phone. i'm going insane, you think.

laying down in a starfish position, you look up at the ceiling wondering about your feelings towards the one and only suna rintarō.

do you like him? yes.

is he annoying? yes.

do you like his company? yes.

do you wish to bash his head in with a rock sometimes? yes.

your romantic emotions clash with your platonic emotions which then clashes with your confusion and creates a whole new headache!

i don't have time for this.

meanwhile at suna's

“ayah, do you think i'm crazy?” suna asks. he's sitting at the end of his bed staring at a wall.

“yes!” the little girl answered, playing with her toys as she ignores her older brother's reaction.

ಇ. NEXT DAY

at the school's gym holds two teenagers that sit side by side, judging other students. one student named suna rintarō aggressively chews on his gum agreeing with the words being said as the other named y/n l/n continues to judge.

“y'know the girl in the right's cheating on her boyfriend?” you say, raising your eyebrows at you look at suna.

gasping, suna looks at you, “you're lying oh my god.”

“no i swear. like, if i was her boyfriend i'd just go home right now.” you replied, shrugging your shoulders as you reach for one of suna's gums.

“that's crazy but who are we to judge honestly.” suna says, popping his gum before standing up.

“i have practice until six today—” he stops before leaning down to your ground level, “don't miss me.” he continues, slightly smirking before pinching your cheek.

“hands OFF. and no, i won't miss you.” shoving his hand away, you stand up to walk out the gym with him (even though there's no reason to).

— at suna's.

suna walks into his home, greeting his family before dragging himself up to his room. he's whipped and absolutely battered. sometimes, he thinks he's not cut out for volleyball—well at least not with mr. perfect kita who does indeed follow a properly written routine.

i'm fucking beat, suna thinks. he plops onto his bed face down but immediately turns around. he thinks about the little interaction from earlier today; you guys were close. he's not really a teasing person but he doesn't know what possessed him to get that close—close to the point he could've moved five centimetres and your lips would meet.

you know that little cartoon effect where a red blush rushes from the character's neck to the head? yeah, that's suna right now. he's done and DUSTED.

“this cannot be real.” suna whispers, he thinks he's going insane. no way he can't stop thinking about you. no way. reaching over for his phone, suna looks at the screen before thinking, should i text her or nah.

he goes with the “nah” option and decides to take a nap. maybe he'll sort his feelings out after his nap.

#. ae-generated: haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu fluff #suna x you #suna fluff

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rare-average-system · 12 days ago

Text

I Just Work Here: Dissociative Barriers

6am : an alarm

You get dressed because that's what you're supposed to do.

7am : a post-it note

“The bus comes at 7:30”

7:30 am : the bus

“Hello, Stranger”, as you pay the bus fare.

7:35 am :

“Go away, Stranger”, as someone waves and sits next to you.

7:42 am : an alarm

“Your stop is next”

7:50 am : work

It's automatic. You simply do .

You don't remember learning it, but you simply know.

12:00 pm : a tap on the shoulder

“I know you, Stranger”, as you are reminded to take your lunch break.

3:00 pm : shouldn’t someone be here?

“I remember you, Stranger”, as the 3:00 pm face walks to your register.

5:00 pm : home

“Have we met before, Stranger?”, as you look in the mirror.

8:00 pm :

Damn, today flew by.

Some days you wake up and you aren't the you that you're supposed to be. You don't know how you know the things you do but you trust that it will come to you. There are clues and instructions laid out, just for a situation like this. Or that's how it seems.

You don't exactly understand it all, you just work here for the day. It doesn't make sense all that much, but it's familiar. Like a dream you've had before.

as always, this is just an example of our experience when it comes to days with high dissociative barriers and unclear shared memories

#posts from my system #actually did #dissociative system #actually dissociative #dissociative identity disorder #did community #did system #traumagenic system #osddid #did osdd #system stuff #sysblr #did/osdd #complex dissociative disorder #dissociative amnesia

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hobie-enthusiast · 1 year ago

Text

UNLIKELY CLASH !

— rulebreaker!hobie brown x perfectionist!gn!reader

— enemies to lovers, fluff, cursing (a lot tbh), arguments, character development, secret relationships, gossip, kissing, sneaking around, hobie is shirtless (its for one part for comfort)

— hobie brown was everything you weren’t, so maybe that’s what attracted the two of you together so well (pt. 3)

— part 3 woohoo! shoutout to 🫓 anon for the idea and honestly part 4 maybe? i have an idea brewing

— part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (here)

Sneaking around with Hobie Brown was truly exhilarating.

After the event in the supply closet, he declared you to be in a relationship (that’s about as far as he would label it). Only problem was it had to stay secret. Your reputation was on the line, and being with Hobie could label you as trouble alone. Plus, Hobie hated labels.

So a secret relationship ensued. For two months worth of sneaking around during school hours to rooftop dates, the two of you avoided all judging eyes. You were content with that, and so was he.

That was, until your grades started to slip.

It truly wasn’t a big deal. 100’s turned into 90’s, and you still maintained your A’s. But that wasn’t good in your parent’s eyes. They noticed the weird absences for singular classes. When you said it was for academic competitions, they grew even more weary.

A confirmation was apparent to them when you climbed in through your window while they were awaiting your arrival. They wanted to talk with you about the grades, only to find you missing. Of course they were worried, but they still found themselves more angry than not.

“What is going on with you?” Your mom questions, arms crossed. “It’s like we don’t even know you anymore!”

“Mom, stop, please.”

“No, that’s not how you’ll speak to her.” Your dad interjected.

You groan, sitting at your desk. “Nothing’s going on! I’m doing perfectly fine.”

Your dad raises an eyebrow and scoffs. “Yeah, because sneaking through the window and skipping classes is ‘fine’.”

“I’m not skipping classes!”

“Oh so you want to lie?” Your mom questions.

“Why won’t you believe me?” You ask. Of course you were lying, they couldn’t know about Hobie. “I’m still doing great. Keeping up. It’s normal teenage stuff.”

Your dad shakes his head. “Nope. I don’t think so.” He declares, crossing to the door. “As of right now, you aren’t going to prom. Maybe that’ll teach you to not sneak around and lie.”

“What?!” Your eyes widen as you stand. You turn to your mom. “Are you seriously going to let this happen?!”

“Let it be a lesson, [Name]. Get your act together.”

Your parents walked out of your room, and you groan in frustration. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You wanted to go to prom! The nice outfits, the dancing, and maybe even convincing Hobie to go was your plan. Now you couldn’t.

You angrily grab your phone, typing to Hobie before tossing your phone away.

Me (9:42 pm):

My parents banned me from going to prom.

Hobie <3 (9:42 pm):

???

why?

Me (9:46 pm):

Caught me sneaking through the window and cornered me. Said I was skipping classes and told me that I needed to “get my act together”.

It’s absolute bullshit.

Hobie <3 (9:46 pm):

shit im sorry sweetheart

give me 5 minutes

You smile gingerly at the phone, moving to lock your room door. You knew Hobie was already on his way, so you had to ensure your parents wouldn’t get you in more trouble. That’s the last thing you needed.

You sat in silence by your door, trying your hardest not to cry over the situation. It was rough.. you never disappointed your parents before like this. They always thought highly of you, but now they didn’t, and this feeling wasn’t kind.

A knock on the window stole you away from your pity. Glancing up, you move to open the window, Hobie entering and immediately hugging you tightly.

You couldn’t help but let out a choked sob at the warmth. “Oh swee’heart.. shh, ‘s okay..”

“But it isn’t!” You respond, pulling away and wiping your face. “I know this may seem stupid but I was looking forward to.. I don’t know.. having a genuine date to prom. I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me, become public, all that stuff. And now I can’t!” You finish, plopping down on your bed.

Hobie’s eyes widen before a sigh escapes his lips. He didn’t know you wanted to go public, not at all. Of course, everyone already had their suspicions after the incident in the hallway. But no one knew you actually were together. Just thought of it as Hobie being Hobie.

He sits next to you, draping an arm around you. In response, you lean against him with a deep breath.

“It isn’t just about prom. I’ve never.. seen my parents so disappointed in me. And I don’t get it. I’m still a great student. Like.. it doesn’t make sense, y’know?”

“I get ‘t. But they put a lot ‘f pressure on ya. Can’t let this get t’ ya.” He explains, a soothing hand rubbing your arm.

You sigh. “I can’t help it. I..” You want to say you love them, because you do. But you aren’t doing this for love. “…want them to care.”

Well that wasn’t what Hobie was expecting.

He says no more words, just holding you closely. He soon finds himself hearing you request he stay, him holding you close, underneath your blankets. He knew this was bad, if your parents walked in it wouldn’t end well. But it was alright. He could just.. keep you safe for a little while. That’s what his job is.

His job as.. as..

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Your eyes adjust to the light pouring in, a groan escaping your lips. You’re about to turn over and stretch when you feel yourself trapped. Glancing down, you see some familiar hands and rings.

The warmth elicited from Hobie was amazing. You let out a content sigh, savouring the moment with him.

Once Hobie awakens, which was possibly two minutes after you, you turn to him with a small smile. “Can’t believe you slept in your jeans and jewelry.”

“Eh, ‘ur worth the discomfor’.” He responds, a yawn escaping his lips.

“That’s.. corny as hell.”

Hobie grins, pulling you closer to him. “You make me wanna be corny, hm?”

Before you could respond, a knock comes at your door. Your mom’s voice rang on the other side, causing both of you to shoot up.

“Honey? Can I come in?”

“Shit!”

You stand from the bed, almost falling in the process, trying to fix up the scene. You usher Hobie up, who happened to be shirtless for comfort, into your closet.

“Woah woah, slow down darlin’.” He says as you shove him. His eyes glance over at something before he looks back, not saying anything on it.

That’ll be fun.

You glare at him. “Hobie Brown, you are currently shirtless in my room, slept in the same bed as me, with my mom on the other side of the door. The one who just got me in trouble for going from an A plus to an A minus. Get in the damn closet.”

He says no more, instead putting his hands up as you shove him into the closet, shutting the door. You fix up your hair before unlocking the door, opening it with the best smile you can manage.

“Hey mom.” You speak casually. “What’s up?”

She smiles back, pushing past you into your room. “Just wanted to say.. don’t take your father’s punishment too hard. He just wants what’s best for you.” She says, cleaning up some things that are out and about.

“Oh yeah! No it’s okay I’m just-”

Suddenly she stops, picking up Hobie’s shirt that lied on your desk chair. “Who’s is this..?”

You pale, clearing your throat. “No one’s! Just.. a gift I got.. couple days ago..?” You say in an almost convincing tone.

She eyes you suspiciously before shrugging, tossing it back onto the chair. You silently breath a sigh of relief, anxiety still in your heart. You’ve never hid a boy before in your closet; not a universal experience.

“…you understand? We’re just concerned.”

“Y-yeah! I get it.” You respond, not knowing what your mom said.

She smiles, walking over and ruffling your hair. “Good. I love you, honey.”

You mutter it back as she exits the room, closing the door behind her. You let out an exasperated breath before running to open the closet door. Hobie can only let out a chuckle as you slam in shirt into his chest.

“Damn you!”

“Oh come on. ‘t was excitin’.” He responds, following you back into the room.

You glare back at him as you sit on the bed with a huff. You cross your arms, as if pretending to be mad, turning away from Hobie. He rolls his eyes as his shirt slips back on.

He takes a seat next to you and plants a soft kiss on your head. “Ah.. Can’t stay mad a’ me. Ya like me t’ much for that.”

“Whatever.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“I’m sorry.. what?!”

“Shh, keep it down!” You shush your friend, shoving their shoulder. “Seriously, it’s whatever.”

They look at you with still complete shock. “Whatever? Whatever?! You’ve been looking forward to prom tomorrow for months! How could they?”

You sigh, stopping in front of your locker. “It’s because of the small slip in my grades.” You explain, turning toward your friend.

“You mean the measly five percent? You’re still top of the class!”

“Trust me, I know.”

You open up your locker, and a small piece of paper falls out. You smile and pick it up, opening it up. You already had a feeling who it was from.

‘downtown apartments tmrw night. dress nicely. got a surprise for u. - h.b’

As you read the note, your friend seems to notice what you have. They glance over, only to see the initials it was signed by before you stuff it away.

“Secret admirer?” They question, holding their books closely.

You laugh, shutting the locker. “Mhm, you know how it is.”

As the two of you walk down the hallway, you manage to see Hobie standing at the corner, seemingly watching you while chatting with a friend. You smile slyly and he winks when you pass by.

‘Oh.. holy shit oh!’

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The next day came, and with it, prom night. You were bummed, truly. Though, maybe a small hangout with Hobie was certainly enough to get you cheered up.

You told your parents you were going to the library, to try and catch up. Luckily, they didn’t question you. Just sent you on your way and told you to be careful. That’s when you rushed to the bathroom to change into nicer clothes and snuck out after.

Hobie waited for you outside the apartments, like asked. For the first time in a while, he wore a button up instead of his vest. His pants remained the same, but he looked more done-up.

And it was worth it when he saw you.

“Well well. Who’s date are ya?” He asks with a small smirk.

You groan, shoving his arm. “Truly hilarious, Hobie. Gotta say, you clean up nice.”

“I manage.” He shrugs, placing a hand on the small of your back. “C’mon. ‘s upstairs. ‘nd close ya eyes.” He requests, prompting a suspicious look from you.

Once he was able to assure you that he wasn’t a killer, he led you to the rooftops. After some bumps and near-falls, he managed to make it, telling you to wait a moment while he ran off.

Hobie returned behind you, breathing in your ear. “‘right swee’heart, open ‘ur eyes.”

What greeted you were strung up lights, a couple of balloons, and a blanket on the ground. Some snacks lied there with the blanket, and soft music was playing in the background; your shared playlist to be exact.

“Hobie..”

“Su’prise. Figured ‘s the next bes’ thing, hm?” He whispers, hands gently holding your arms. “Jus’ the two of us. ‘nd ‘s free.”

You laugh gently, turning to face Hobie. “You did all this?”

He nods, and you can’t help but lean forward and hug him tightly. He didn’t understand, not by a long shot, why anyone would want to go to prom. But he still helped you, made it up for you. And that was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you.

Pulling away, you plant a gentle kiss on his jaw. “Thank you, seriously. I thought I was going to spend tonight sulking.”

Hobie laughs quietly, pulling you towards the make-shift prom. There isn’t much to do, but the two of you share snacks and drinks, dance a small bit, and just talk a lot. It was quiet with just the two of you, much nicer than a normal prom.

You noticed how close Hobie wanted to be with you. He was always touching you; holding your hand, waist, or fingers. It was so.. out of character. Yet, you felt amazed at how comfortable he was with you after everything before to now.

When the two of you settle on the blanket, you silently watch the sunset. Your head lies in Hobie’s chest while he strokes your hair contently.

“‘ve been thinkin’.” Hobie starts, glancing down before looking up again. “‘bout what ya said. Goin’ public ‘nd stuff.”

“Oh? That was just-”

Hobie cuts you off. “‘f ‘s what ya wan’, le’s do it.”

Your eyes light up as you sit up, turning to face him. “Seriously? You’re okay with getting labeled as my boyfriend? Just like that?”

“‘f ‘ur fine with gettin’ labeled as trouble.” He responds confidently, a smirk on his face. “‘s not easy.”

You smile gently, kissing Hobie gently on the lips, his lip ring giving a cool and sensational feeling. He grunts for a moment before grabbing your waist, kissing back. He’s obsessed with you, the way you feel on him and here in this moment. His brain goes haywire every-time he’s near you.

When you pull away, you place a gentle hand on his cheek. “It’ll be easy if we’re together, hm?”

“‘s the spiri’. Now, dance wit’ me, yeah?”

He stands you up to dance with him, the music playing a softer yet harsh tune to dance to. But you both didn’t care. You simply danced and swayed together, twirling and sharing laughs and kisses.

As Hobie dances and kisses you again and again, his thoughts run. He was used to being labeled; as a hero for Spider-punk, as a rebel for school, and as scary all around. But this label he’s creating for himself - it’s better than the others. One that he controls and more importantly, let’s them know that he’s got you. That he was given a chance and proved himself.

But of course he would never admit that.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The weekend comes and goes, and soon, it’s Monday, and your standing outside the school. You and Hobie both agreed to meet at the front of the school, walk in together, act as if all was normal. Treat it like another day.

“Hope I didn’ keep ya waitin’.” A voice calls from behind.

You turn and smile as Hobie makes his way up the steps. He leans down to kiss you, causing a few lingering students outside to gasp. He smirks when he pulls away, holding his hand out.

“Rea’y?”

You nod. “Absolutely.”

With a deep breath, you open the doors, walking in hand-in-hand with Hobie. He told you before to stand straight, to look confident, so you did. You looked forward, ignoring the gasps and stares you both got.

Everyone was going to go nuts about your relationship, it was quite annoying. They needed excitement in their lives, so on they go to bother the two of you. But you both agreed you were ready to ignore it. It was one of the terms to going public.

“Holy shit! Dude look, [Name] [Last] and Hobie Brown!”

“Holding hands? When did they start dating? Or.. even talking?”

“Girl remember, they kissed in the hallway that one time!”

“How could I forget?!”

Hobie grit his teeth as you squeezed his hand, opening up your locker. “Sorry.. maybe we shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t.” Hobie immediately stops you, leaning against the wall. “Don’ regre’ i’ jus’ because of those planks, hm? All tha’ ma’ters ‘s us.”

You sigh, shutting the door as you kiss his cheek. “You’re right. Thanks.”

“C’mon, ‘ll walk ya t’ class.”

“But you’ll be late if you do..”

You both look at each other before busting out laughing. Of course Hobie didn’t care, it was funny in itself. You were even able to ignore the annoying stares everyone around you were giving. Instead, the two of you walked off in blissful ignorance.

Maybe being with Hobie Brown would be easier than you thought.

tags for those who wanted it (🫶); @serenn08 | @babydollfoster | @em711 | @girl-detective16 | @midnightnoiserose

#NEW ARTICLE || OUT NOW !!#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv x reader #atsv #atsv hobie

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cheesecakeislazy · 6 months ago

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JEFF THE KILLER HEADCANONS BECAUSE FUCK YOU! (Jk I love you and hope your life is great)

1. Him and BeN are besties for life, ride or die, would suck the poison out of each others dicks (not gay though)

2. Jeff has eye drops on him 24/7 so he doesn’t go fucking blind

3. Jeff has anger issues, one moment he’s chill as fuck and then EJ told him something that pisses him off- and now there’s a stab wound in Toby, a hole in the wall, and an angry Slenderman.

4. Jeff is totally straight. He totally thinks boobs are awesome. And totally only boobs. (He’s bisexual and swears on god he’s straight.)

5. He wakes up at 2 pm because he hates being awake in the mornings

6. He’s a metal head. He blasts music from his room so loud you can hear it across the mansion (slender mansion AU)

7. His deep gravely ass voice is perfect for metal songs

8. He likes to paint his nails black, and black only any other color is fucking gay

9. His vocabulary is 90% cuss words

10. He rarely showers. Ironically the gamer showers more often than him. Jeff prefers to be a stinky son of a bitch (take that fangirls)

11. He makes up for it with his dental hygiene (kinda) he brushes them twice a day and they look perfect (mostly)

12. He has extra sharp canines

13. He named his knife “Knifu” aka his knife waifu

14. The knife has been used so much that it constantly reeks of bleach and blood; it has permanent blood stains on it

15. Jeff bites his nails pretty often

16. Jeff isn’t good with throwing knives- he also isn’t that good at stabbing…

17. Jeff literally just stabs and stabs until he thinks his victim is dead, he doesn’t know any major artery’s (did I spell that right?)

18. Jeff is dyslexic

19. Jeff is horrible at math but refuses to admit it

20. Jeff wears eyeliner but refuses to admit it

21. He secretly loves the color pink but refuses to admit it (see a pattern here yet?)

22. Jeff is super sensitive to light due to the fact he doesn’t have any eyelids

23. He wears black gloves because he has burn marks on his hands and hates it when people look at them (fingerless gloves as his fingers aren’t burnt)

24. Jeff really wants tattoos and piercings but can’t get any due to his skin being extremely sensitive and fragile

25. Jeff hates the sun, it hurts his eyes and skin

26. Jeff likes going to playgrounds at night because 1. Fucking swings are awesome and 2. Creepy

27. Fucker is 5’11 and constantly calls BeN a midget

28. Jeff had a small crush on Toby for a while and lowkey has a small crush on BeN but…

29. Jeff is highkey downbad for EJ (it’s one-sided)

30. If Jeff ever tried to cook, he would burn everything

31. Jeff is fucking terrified of fire

32. Sometimes Ben likes to scare Jeff shitless by lighting a small fire inside Bens hands infront of Jeff

33. Sometimes Jeff throws Ben inside a kiddy pool and watches him panic about drowning (he is fully above the water)

34. Despite the fact Jeff and Ben both fuck with each other and their fears, they do it in tame ways to ensure the other doesn’t actually have a panic attack of any kind

35. Jeff lives in sweatpants, jeans are for losers and shorts are gay

36. T-shirts and hoodies, Jeff literally does not own a single sweater, long sleeve, or tank top.

37. His favorite T-shirt says “Fuck me in my ass (but not in a gay way)”

38. His second favorite says “Emo metal loving slut”

39. Both and almost all of his t-shirts are black with either white or red/pink writing

40. It is Jeff’s goal to have every photo taken of him (with permission) to have him flipping off the camera

41. Jeff watches South Park but thinks Family guy is stupid

42. He tries really hard to get on Liu/Sully’s good side but his anger issues usually get in the way

43. Jeff and Nina are actually really good friends that lowkey view each other as family

44. Jeff and Nina love to piss each other off constantly (Ben will prank whoever he is asked to)

45. Jeff has tried to kill Jane quite a few times, and Jane is constantly trying to kill him

46. Jeff personally isn’t into weed but he doesn’t judge BeN for being a stoner lowkey

47. Jeff is a virgin but he wouldn’t be nervous at all about having sex

48. Jeff is a kinky bastard

49. Jeff likes a good bowl of strawberry ice cream

50. Jeff likes banana smoothies

51. Jeff owns a few Nirvana T-shirts

#creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta #jeff the killer #creepypasta jeff the killer #creepypasta ben drowned #my headcanons #jeff the killer headcanons #slenderverse #slenderman #i’m autistic #lol #bisexual #in denial

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ax-y10 · 1 year ago

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mopey and majestic

in which; wilbur has plans for the night you come home sad and upset

requested by 🎧 anon; wilbur x reader go on a romantic picnic wilbur set up at your favourite field after you were upset (not the full request) linked with; picnicking together in a spot where couples usually picnic together. “we’re defying the norms,” character a says while being all snuggled up in character b’s comforting embrace

about; reader is upset, physical touch, 'killed' is mentioned once - i didn't do field because i had an idea for the beach but i hope this is still alright.

word count; 813

celebrate here;

wil <3

4:18 pm hey sweetheart, i'm starting dinner now. see you soon

5:42 pm dinner's ready. be safe on your way home for me. i love you

6:57 pm darling, how long will you be? your dinner is in the microwave staying warm. let me know when you'll be home

7:25 pm work finished at 5:30, what's happened?

---

he knew something was up when you wouldn't respond to his messages. he could understand that you wouldn't reply to his first message because you hadn't finished work, but he was weirded out by the fact that you hadn't responded to any after his second message.

the dots suddenly started forming a coherent reason. you were upset. you needed comfort as soon as you got home, and you were probably walking around the seaside to calm yourself down.

grabbing your dinner from the microwave and putting it in an air-tight container, he made his way up to your shared bedroom. he grabbed a comfy sweater of his and a beanie, alongside a small backpack and shoved the items in.

he grabbed your dinner and pretzels for himself, also stuffing them in his backpack, and called you.

after a few seconds of waiting, you picked up, sniffles sounding through the call.

---

"hey sweetheart, where are you right now?" he quietly closed the door and started walking towards the beach.

"um, i think i'm near that one cafe on the beach. why? do i need to be home? i can go hom-" he cut you off and shushed your rambling.

"no no no, don't worry. can you go to that one spot on the beach we went yesterday with tommy?" he panted a little, quickening his pace.

"uh yeah. it's hard to see but i'll go there," right now, it was best that you ignored your worries and got there on the beach safely.

"okay, thankyou," he went quiet and created a soft environment on the other end of the call.

---

quick footsteps were approaching you, and you panicked, until you saw his dark figure sitting down next to you.

the light of the moon and the street lights illuminated his face perfectly, outlining every dimple and curve on his face with a golden glow, a halo where his hair was poofed up, and his smile was highlighted by the soft glow of the moon. he looked ethereal. he calmed down your entire being from just standing there, and he may have noticed.

"hello" his gentle voice filled your ears, accompanied with a small smile. he looked absolutely beautiful and you couldn't get enough of it. it was not the right time to try for a kiss. he was here to hopefully comfort you and calm you down.

"come here" he leaned closer to you and stretched out his arms, inviting you into a warm hug.

"thankyou. for being here," only now did you have the chance to check his messages.

you had headphones in, and your phone was on silent. you were still in your scratchy work uniform, and all you needed was to keep your head warm, a headache creeping into your skull. but as you looked at the messages, everything else was forgotten. you probably stressed him out so much, and your dinner was probably cold, and he probably thought you got killed.

"give me a second" he reached into his backpack and pulled out his sweater and beanie, laying the items on your lap. he helped you pull the sweater on and pulled the beanie over your eyes, causing you to erupt into a small fit of giggles.

he then pulled out his bag of pretzels and your dinner, still tightly sealed in the container.

you almost cried when he pulled out your dinner, you having not had a chance to eat all day, and being caught off guard from a warm dinner presented to you, having not been eaten for almost two hours at this point.

still being rested and warm in wilbur's arms, you had started eating dinner, listening to the waves crashing against the shore and wilbur's obnoxiously loud chewing. everything was so much better now that you had wilbur right next to you and being wrapped up in his comfy clothes.

you were snuggled up into his side, your shoes inside his backpack, and his head rested on yours. his arm was wrapped around your middle, tracing soft circles into the soft skin of your waist. his free hand was fidgeting with the hair tie on your wrist, being careful to not accidentally snap it against your wrist.

"we're defying the norms" he spoke into the blue, not expecting an answer. he just wanted to let his thoughts out to someone, and that someone was you. but he got a whole hearted laugh from you, and you both packed up and headed home, opting to fall asleep in a bed and not on rocks.

taglist; @phxntomsdusk (ask to be added)

#200 follower event #event piece #writing event #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur fluff #wilbur soot comfort #hurt/comfort

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softsan · 7 months ago

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・⊹ 🎐 ˙ ̟!! ATEEZ MASTERLIST

key: fluff 🤍 , angst 🖇️ , suggestive 🍶 , smut 🥛 , adult themes 🍚 , coming soon 📨 , in progress 🎧 , completed 📑 , requests 📁 .

✉️ ・ 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 ・ ᝰ

˚ ☁️ ⊹ broken wings. — park seonghwa 10k ; 🤍 , 🥛 , 🍚 , 📨 , dark fae au, high fantasy, synopsis - your parents never dwelled very much on the topic of your aunt. the subject too sore, too painful to retell. however, you wished they had bestowed you with a little of the knowledge they beheld, as one dreary day by enchanted forest, a group of elfish men kidnapped you, mistaking you as your aunt. you a brought to the mystical city of charming and are gifted to the infamous dark fairy prince seonghwa. - read here.

˚ ☁️ ⊹ you're the one. — park seonghwa 10k ; 🤍 , 🍶 , 🍚 , 📨 , nine-tailed fox au synopsis - . - read here.

˚ ☁️ ⊹ lilipad. — kim hongjoong 10k ; 🤍 , 🖇️ , 🥛 , 🍚 , 📨 , single dad au synopsis - . - read here

˚ ☁️ ⊹ so cold, yet so sweet. — jeong yunho 10k ; 🤍 , 🍶 , 🍚 , 📨 , royality au synopsis - . - read here.

˚ ☁️ ⊹ city of lights. — choi san 10k ; 🤍 , 🖇️ , 🥛 , 📨 , celebrity marriage au synopsis - . - read here.

˚ ☁️ ⊹ love bite. — jung wooyoung jung wooyoung - coming soon ; angst, suggestive, outsider au 10k ; 🤍 , 🖇️ , 🥛 , 🍚 , 📨 , outsider au, 80's setting, synopsis - . - read here.

✉️ ・ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ・ ᝰ

˚ 🌨️ ⊹ mafia au. — ateez 10k ; 🤍 , 🖇️ , 🥛 , 🍚 , 🎧 , mafia au synopsis - dive into the dark, devious, devilish mafia universe. where one rejoices in deadly past times, and indluges in sin. - read here.

˚ 🌨️ ⊹ pirate king au. — ateez 10k ; 🤍 , 🖇️ , 🍶 , 🍚 , 🎧 , pirate king au synopsis - join the new era of pirates in the pirate king universe. cross the treacherous waters, and devour the devilish fruits of the sea. - read here.

˚ 🌨️ ⊹ werewolf au. — ateez 5k ; 🤍 , 🖇️ , 🥛 , 🍚 , 🎧 , werewolf au synopsis - howl alongside the werewolf universe. come across the likes of moon beast, wolf bites, and other wicked and wild things. - read here.

˚ 🌨️ ⊹ hogwarts au. — ateez 5k ; 🤍 , 🖇️ , 🎧 , hogwarts au synopsis - step into the hogwarts universe. a magical world, of wonder, wands, and wishful enchantments. - read here.

✉️ ・ 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐒 ・ ᝰ

˚ 🌩️ ⊹ hongjoong. [9:45 am] [3:52 pm] [4:56 pm]

˚ 🌩️ ⊹ seonghwa. [8:26 am] [9:43 am] [11:03 am] [5:01 pm]

˚ 🌩️ ⊹ yunho. [3:15 pm] [11:42 pm]

˚ 🌩️ ⊹ yeosang. [6:23 am] [11:52 am]

˚ 🌩️ ⊹ san. [8:39 am] [12:45 pm] [2:12 pm] [8:45 pm]

˚ 🌩️ ⊹ mingi. [3:29 am] [11:48 am]

˚ 🌩️ ⊹ wooyoung. [4:56 pm] [11:43 pm]

˚ 🌩️ ⊹ jongho. [8:15 pm] [11:02 pm]

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez timestamps #ateez fluff #ateez smut

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dear-ao3 · 2 years ago

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how i met my boyfriend - the designer axe story

as promised, since we have both now graduated the statute of limitations has expired on this story and i can now share it all with you.

some notes: ra is resident assistant and this story occurred in august of 2021. i wrote this all out the day after it happened almost 2 years ago. we did not actually start dating until october 2021 after we both realized we were in love with eachother. yes, we are still together as of may 2023.

without any further ados, the much anticipated designer axe story.

so part of RA training is that we have to make door decorations and bulletin boards for our halls and buildings. i had finished my door decks at 1 am sunday morning and the bulletin boards weren't due until 9 am monday morning. so i had all of sunday to work on it.

my building has no less than seven bulletin boards per floor and an additional 4 on the entrance floor. i dont know who the hell built this building but we need to have a serious talk about when too many bulletin boards is too many fucking bulletin boards.

so i was in charge of three on my floor. one about me, one covid policies and one sloth (his name is sam and i love him). and i am a chronic procrastinator. so i finished my about me and got through about 95% of my covid one by like 9pm and had to go back to the res life office to cut out a few more letters and get some scrapbook paper.

at this point its probably important to know that the only people on campus at this point were the RAs, some students getting mentoring training, and a few random first years here for an early arrival program. plus some staff.

now, i need you all to understand that there are 42 RAs. all of us have the same deadline. all of us had between 2 and 5 bulletin boards to complete. plus door decks. and room condition reports. so we were all moving at literally 600 frames per second, 120 miles per hour, or about as fast as a child does when they are told there's cake.

which is to say, we were all frazzled and stressed out of our minds.

so i open the door to the res life office at around 9 pm to cut out the word "but" in orange construction paper and grab 2 sheets of purple scrapbooking paper. in the office are the four RAs that were on duty that night, plus a good 7 other people are running around asking about glue sticks and construction paper and keys.

i knew that i only had my sloth board left to complete so i decided to take my sweet ass time, knowing that i was in need of a good break (and also im just a procrastinator) so i cut my letters and grabbed my paper and stood at the desk for no less than an hour talking to everyone about things like the fact that i fell out of a suitcase when i was 2 and that tamper proof lids exist because of the chicago poison pill murders and the flagship l.l. bean store in maine. it was very productive.

so i finally slink back to my dorm at around 10pm, very confident that i would finish by midnight and could watch some netflix or something before i went to bed. if only i knew what was in store for me.

i enter my dorm building and walk to the elevators. and then. one of the RAs from the third floor was like "oh saph. [another RA in the building] is looking for you."

and me, of course, didnt bring my phone to the res life office so i didnt know this.

i go up to the second floor and see one of the RAs from the second floor and another from one of the other buildings working on a bulletin board. they say "oh saph. [the same RA in the building] is looking for you."

i run up to my dorm and discover that somehow we missed the bulletin board by the downstairs elevator. seriously there's too fucking many bulletin boards. and they were asking me to do it. because they wanted to put covid policies on it.

and i know i said this story was about axe body spray. and it is. we are getting there.

so panic sets in because its 10pm and i still have two whole bulletin boards to make now. one of which i have nothing planned for. so i threw some soup in the microwave (because i had forgotten that dinner existed) and opened my laptop.

thankfully, i could reuse some of the same stuff from my own covid policies board in my common room. i just had to print it. which meant, yep you guessed it, another trip back to the res life office!!

at this point i think i had taken a grand total of at least 7 trips to the res life office that day alone. its a good 5 minute walk. not terrible, but just annoying enough that you hate yourself a little more every time that you have to do it. and now its 10:30pm. i am starving. i have two boards to complete. it was crunch time.

i make it to the office and this time i had no time to sit around and debate how popular l.l. bean is. i had policies to print and letters to cut.

as im struggling with the printer (because those fucking things can smell fear), someone else in the office starts loudly discussing timothee chalamet.

and now, this is where you want to actually pay attention because this man would be the reason i ended up only getting 4.5 hours of sleep.

said man in question is quite the character. he's in my grade and im pretty sure he's a polisci major (and maybe creative writing? there's some kind of writing) and he plays lacrosse. i dont really know how to describe him other than the fact that the first interaction i ever had with him was two years ago at freshman orientation when he complained to me in the dining hall that there was no milk for his protein powder.

that interaction is in my top 10 favorite interactions ive had in college.

but the one we are about to unpack definitely takes all of the cake.

so here i am, struggling with the printer and my tiny knock off dongle. the other RA on my floor starts discussing timothee chalamet's outfits with the protein powder RA.

and so apparently the protein powder RA worked in some major fashion designer brand corporate something or other thing over the pandemic. he told me which one but i was so shot and only thinking in construction paper and glue and staples that i didnt process any of it. but it was a fancy one. the store that is.

and so here's what happened:

me: "timothee chalamet? isn't he like, 17?"

protein powder RA and the other RA on my floor: "nah he's like 25. ive checked."

yet another RA: "yeah i just googled it."

me, a wimbo: "oh im thinking of finn wolfhard. but i dont think he's 17 either."

listen before you slam me, remember it is like 11pm and i have to still do 2 bulletin boards and we have training at 9am the next morning.

so protein powder RA pulls up some photo of timothee chalamet and starts telling me about all the brands he's wearing and i literally said "i understand all of the words that you're saying separately."

and he said "exactly!! he's just so great that when you put it all together you can't understand it!! he's just too perfect!!"

and the i made a detrimental decision.

there is life before this decision and life after.

i said "well. bring your fashion designer knowledge into the lounge and help me decide what color to cut my letters."

and he said okay.

so after severely debating the different color purples that we had and listening to the finer points of the fashion industry, i noticed something important.

he smelled like axe body spray.

see i bet you thought i forgot the point of the story. i did not.

let it be known that we are juniors in college (that's 20-21 years old if you dont know). axe is very common in middle and high school boys locker rooms. i have vivid memories of avoiding that hallway so i wouldn't be choked.

so im trying not to inhale too deeply because the smell has permeated my mask as i cut my "covid safety" letters in the color this man has dubbed "light lilac" and half listening to him talk about the fashion industry.

but i finish quickly, somehow escape the smell of axe, and grab my laptop and print outs before tagging along with the same protein powder RA and the other lax player RA back to the dorms. its now 11:15 pm. i still have 2 bulletin boards to complete. my soup is sitting in my microwave in my dorm, almost forgotten about.

halfway back from the office i realize that i forgot my dongle. i say so out loud and protein power RA says that he will go back and look because he's just that guy who likes to help. i say okay fine. and i sprint to my dorm building, drop the print outs and letters downstairs for later, and start the sloth board.

several minutes later, my soup has been inhaled, my papers glued, a sloth cut out, and im sitting in a mess of construction paper and staples in the hallway when i get a text from protein powder RA that quite simply said:

"its not there. do you need help with your boards?"

and me, being me, because i am exhausted and in need of company, say "yeah sure."

by the time he finally shows up, he's changed his outfit.

as a side note, every time ive seen this man during the last 5 days of training, he's been wearing a different outfit. oh and he works for lulu lemon. forgot to mention that.

but alas, here he came, holding my papers and reeking of axe as he walked down the hall to me, who is failing to staple a sloth to my bulletin board.

so for the next two hours i did my boards and he sat and talked. he wasn't physically helping me, but he was helping me stay awake, cause this man is a ball of fucking energy, and that was very important.

i only remember about half of what he said but essentially he was talking about how he was trying to be a better person than the one that he was freshman year. which is admirable. but he does still reek of axe.

at around 1 am i finished my last board and went upstairs to clean up. he came with me and sat on the floor and continued to talk while i cleaned up my disaster of paper and staples and glue among other things. at this point i was so relieved that i had finished that i was actually able to engage in the conversation, which was surprisingly deep and interesting.

and then. its about 1:45 am. i am about to wash my dishes so i can shower and go to bed. because remember that i need to be at training at 9 am the next morning.

and he says something about trying to be a better person again. and me, in all my sleep deprived glory, says:

drum roll

"and yet you still wear axe body spray."

and all hell broke loose.

i would like to preface by saying that he freaked out in a very joking matter and was not actually mad at me. but he was definitely disappointed and in shock. the next hour pretty much consisted of:

"are you kidding me? this is prada something something cologne and all these celebrities wear it!! how dare- it could not POSSIBLY SMELL LIKE AXE!!! well i guess its a little dry and axe is kind of dry smelling...bUT I SPENT SO MUCH ON THIS BOTTLE and the lady sold me on the larger one and it was like 150 bucks and UGH i cannot smell like axe! you know i got four compliments on how i smelled today??! and you're telling me i smell like fucking- *sniffs shirt* no! there's no way!! well i mean... no i cannot. i cannot smell like designer axe. damnit saph! im gonna have to sell this whole bottle now cause i can't use it! BUT ITS PRADA!!"

for an hour.

but it was very entertaining.

eventually i dragged him to the common room cause i needed to do my dishes and sleep and he continued ranting about it there, going as far as to call his best friend (who was asleep) and another RA and ask them if he smelled like axe. i meanwhile was laughing my ass off and 12 kinds of tired but couldn't find it in myself to care.

eventually he decided he needed yet another opinion. so he went to find the other RA on my floor, which, if you remember, is the same one who was thirsting over timothee chalamet with him in the res life office all of those fateful hours before. but that RA was nowhere to be found. so he ran down to the common room below us and scared the shit out of three freshmen.

and he asked these freshmen if he smelled like axe.

the answer was yes.

after that he left because it was 2:30 in the morning, and all the while he was yelling about how he was going to come to training tomorrow with different shirts with all his different colognes on them and have me sniff them because he couldn't smell like designer axe.

and i did the only logical thing. went upstairs to my my dorm and made him a door deck that looked like a bottle of axe that had a post it on the front that said "designer."

and so. now you all know not to buy cologne because its expensive because there's a good chance it will just end up smelling like axe.

and i didn't get to smell his other colognes because i almost passed out in training and left to take a nap. but maybe that was a blessing in disguise.

we’ve been dating for a year and seven months and just graduated college :) and in a fun twist of events, prada no longer makes that cologne anymore.

#not a tag #from saph #designer axe #saph and brad origin #bless

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