#maybe a fifth grader could.

[bogkeep]

TODAY i got my swimmies in a beautiful sunset

[miabebe]

Too Many Beds (Choi Seungcheol)

Reverse Trope Series Installement 1

Pairing - Choi Seungcheol x afab! Reader

Word Count- 13k (don't ask me how I thought I could do this in 2k)

Genre - Enemies to lovers? Frenemies to lovers? Lovers to lovers? Idk man, these two are idiots, that's all. Oh and smut.

Warnings - one mention of blood cause of intense make out wew, other smut warnings under the cut!

A/n - I'm trying to do a Reverse Trope one shot series for all seventeen members, first up Choi Seungcheol :) Next up is 'Accidentally Kidnapping A Mafia Boss' Ft. Yoon Jeonghan hehe send me an ask/message to be tagged in that! Or you can also drop a comment when I drop the teaser in a few days!

Smut warnings - oral (m and f receiving), fingering, brief face fucking, thick dick cheol lol, slight choking, allusions to a breeding kink, unprotected sex (these two are digustingly in love, extremely horny and highly irresponsible, please don't be like them), creampie, mention of the word slut like once, and I'm hoping that's all?

“Absolutely not.”

“No way in hell.”

Seungcheol glared at you as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m not sharing a room with him.”

“I refuse to even breathe in her vicinity.”

“Then maybe I should do mankind a service by being around you more.”

“The only way you can help mankind is by shutting your mouth.” Seungcheol leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You’re not pretty enough for all the stupidity that comes out of it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Rich coming from you. If I had a face like yours, I’d sue my parents.”

“Aw, fifth graders can insult better than you, sweetheart.”

“That was a fact, darling.”

“Ah” The two of you turned to the receptionist, finally remembering her presence as her eyes flickered between you and Seungcheol. “So, the two of you are dating?”

Looking at her incredulously and with unadulterated disgust, the two of you immediately took a step back.

“No!”

“No!”

“I’d rather stub my pinky toe on furniture everyday than date her-”

“And I’d rather choke on my own spit everyday than date him-”

“Oh baby, I knew you were a desperate one. I can give you something better to choke on-”

“Honey, are you sure? I heard you can stack fruit loops on that skinny thing-”

“Enough!” The old woman behind the counter got to her feet, putting her hands on her hips, the never-ending squabbling finally getting to her. “If either of you say another word, I will personally put you both in the tiniest broom closet I can find and trust me, the ones in this lodge are devastatingly small.”

You immediately shut up, dreading that idea more than anything. Seungcheol too became uncharacteristically and thankfully, quiet.

“Now, as far as your room is concerned, your company booked only one room, number-” She glanced at the paper in her hand and pulled out a pair of keys from the drawer. “- 68. If you can bear each other for 4 nights, well and good, get moving. If not, then take your things and get out of here. Good luck finding another lodge in this miserable weather.”

And as though on cue, a bright light, followed by a loud thunder flooded the room, taking all three of its inhabitants aback.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Seungcheol visibly gulp, well aware of his fear of thunder. Seungcheol too heard the way you sniffled, knowing that your rhinitis would only get worse with the humidity rising outside.

Sighing with the realization that there was no way out of this, both of you reached for the keys at the same time, making the old woman snatch it faster than the damn lightning to avoid yet another fight from breaking out. Ringing for the bellboy, she handed him the keys before he took your suitcase and Seungcheol’s bag in each hand, leading the way to your despair of the night.

Seungcheol followed quietly behind you, hands tucked in his pocket, his large headphones perched on his head as he swayed to the music, blatantly ignoring you. You were thankful for that. Since you were little children, you had always craved moments where you could pretend like this man didn’t exist. Why wouldn’t you? Everything about him was a pain in your ass.

You first met Seungcheol when you were five. Your fathers were college mates turned business partners and coincidentally, your mothers were best friends since high school. Naturally, everyone expected the children of both families to be just as close as their parents but alas, even at the age of five, you could not bear him for more than five minutes. He was so aggressive and unruly, always messing up your dolls, always pulling your hair, never giving you a second of peace when he was around. Albeit that behaviour got milder over the years but there were other things now.

Like the fact that your father always preferred to have a boy, a son who could be his heir, someone like Seungcheol. It wasn’t like he didn’t love you but a different side of him came out every time Seungcheol was around, a side not even you could bring out. He would laugh louder, his eyes would shine more, he would seem so carefree. Seungcheol too never missed the chance to rub that on your face, constantly sneering and claiming that your father would be happier if he was a part of the family.

Over the years, your displeasure and annoyance at Seungcheol only grew into a deep dislike. As though it wasn’t enough that the two of you did your entire schooling together (yes, all twelve years of it), he was always present anywhere and everywhere you went - the debate club, the swim team, the dance academy, the cafes, the libraries, the movies - there was no place you were free of him. Ever since you were young, you had longed to escape to a place far away from home just to be carefree and explore and reinvent yourself without the constant looming of a figment of your past. You had hoped that at least after school you’d have the chance to go away from him but as your luck would have it, the two of you were accepted into the same business school, were interning in the same company, were working on the same project, and had come out of town for the same three-day conference together. It was one thing to have to bear this man’s presence all day, now you had to do it all night as well, thanks to your cheapskate company.

As you got in the lift Seungcheol held the doors open for you before settling in the corner opposite yours, keeping as much distance in between as possible. The bell boy looked at both of you confused.

“I thought the two of you are dating?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes, and fished out your phone, scrolling through it instead.

Seungcheol glanced at you before scoffing at the absurd idea of dating you. He wasn’t foreign to that doubt though – people often wondered if they were together and Seungcheol wondered what on earth they saw between them that even resembled a speck of liking or even tolerance for one another.

Seungcheol had honestly not met anyone as stuck up as you. He never understood why his parents constantly considered you as the ideal role model for their son - ‘Look Cheol, she joined debate, you should too’, ‘She got selected in the swim team, you should try Cheol.’, ‘What do you think about dancing Cheol? She’s really good at it.’. Seungcheol was sick of being dragged into everything you were in, only to always be second. He hated debates, he would rather play football than swim, and though he liked to dance, ever since he joined the academy with you, even dancing was not giving him any solace.

Yet he gave his best all the time. He tried and tried and tried but he was always second to you who was evidently a natural at everything. For example, back in the school days, Seungcheol would almost get the same grades as you but at the cost of sacrificing nights of sleep and putting hours and hours into teaching himself. Meanwhile, you would breeze through the notes a day before the test, get a full 8-hour sleep and still score higher than him. As if that wasn’t enough, you’d invite him home, offering to “tutor” him only to constantly berate him about his ignorance, drop snide comments about how you were better, subtly challenge him in a battle that the both of you were well aware he could not win.

No wonder you had no friends while Seungcheol was as popular as could be - who would even want to be friends with you when you were always so cold and condescending towards anything that moved or breathed. If your parents weren’t joined at the hip, forcing Seungcheol to be a constant presence in your life, he wondered who would ever even talk to you? You should have been thankful for him, that he was the one human presence in your life who was always there despite it all, yet you treated him like he was beneath you. He had hoped that at least after graduating the two of you could part ways but the universe apparently loved playing cosmic jokes, putting the two of you together yet again, at the same workplace. And completely up in each other’s space for the next few days as well.

It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t ever shared a room before - whenever your parents would meet up at each other’s house to drink and talk all night, the two of you had no choice but to crash in the same room, sharing the same bed even but thank God it was usually queen size, allowing the both of you to take two opposite ends, not even your breaths mingling. It had been years since that though…..Seungcheol felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back. He had no idea how he was to spend tonight in this room. Or the next few ones.

Neither did you.

As all three of you stood before the door and the bellboy fumbled with the keys, you glanced at Seungcheol. He looked unbothered as one could be. Perhaps you were overthinking this whole thing. It was a matter of four nights, surely the two of you could at least try to be courteous right?

“What in the...?”

Seungcheol’s voice rang in the empty corridor and you leaned to see what had him so shocked. Your own jaw dropped in a strange mixture of surprise, confusion, and relief.

Room 68 was no average hotel room. It was as big as the entire lobby, 7 heavily pillowed and blanketed single beds aligned from one end to the other almost military barrack style, only small bedside tables putting space between them.

“Room 68 is uh our bachelorette party suite.” The bellboy clarified. “For, you know, those big groups of girls who are hell bent on partying all night together?” He looked away like he was recalling a horrifying memory. “Since it’s holiday season, the lodge is booked out, this was the only room we had left. Is... is it not good?”

Seungcheol looked at you and for the first time in nearly 25 years, the two of you could finally agree on something.

“No.” You stepped in. “It’s perfect.”

It had been years since you had seen Seungcheol half-naked.

Well, you frequently saw him during swim practice in those tight speedo shorts of his, ass all plump and taut but you were not talking about that. You were referring to the sight before you right now, him with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his wet hair falling into his eyes as he searched for something in his bag frantically – most likely his aftershave. You knew he must have cleaned up given the conference was starting tomorrow and also that his cheeks were burning because you couldn’t smell the subtle cinnamon spice aftershave that usually followed in his routine.

Seungcheol strangely felt a pair of eyes on him as he rummaged through his things and suddenly remembered he was not alone in the room. He quickly turned, looking for you, finding you curled up in your bed, writing in what he guessed was your journal, unbothered by his presence. You were wearing that cute nightgown with little tomatoes drawn all over it which Seungcheol found funny given how much you hated tomatoes with all your heart and soul. Realising he had been looking for too long, Seungcheol gulped, quickly grabbing the aftershave he finally found and rushed back into the bathroom.

You flinched as you heard the door of the bathroom slam shut, looking up from your journal. Shaking your head exasperated, you returned to your writing. Seungcheol always handled things around him roughly like he was just not built to be gentle - slamming doors hard, breaking at least one coffee mug a month, causing rips in most of his clothes when he would gym because he was so big…. And muscular…. And built…..You bit the back of your pen thinking about how good he looked in his gym wear but if you were being honest, he looked best in a suit.

He’s going to be wearing one tomorrow.

You snapped out of your thoughts realizing you were entering dangerous waters and turned your attention back to your writing. Seungcheol made that process slightly harder as he walked out, furiously rubbing his towel against the back of his head, dressed in a black t-shirt and grey sweats.

As he sat down on his bed, he looked at you sitting six beds across, all the way in the other end of the room, right by the window. The moment the two of you entered the room, he took bed 1, the one against the wall and you took bed 7, the one against the opposite wall, putting the maximum possible distance between the two of you. He let you use the bathroom first, not because he knew you preferred using it when it is dry but because he thought this was the best time for him to call his parents and wish them goodnight….. even though it was still 7:30.

He showered after you did but even now, despite being so far from you, he could still smell your bodywash, the fragrance of lilies, the mildest kind because strong fragrances irritated your sensitive nose. Throwing his towel on the chair he kicked his legs off the floor and lied on the bed, turning to the wall, hearing the faint annoyed click of a tongue. Seungcheol knew exactly what triggered it - you hated it when he tossed damp towels like that. But honestly, he couldn't care less right now, not when there were more important things to deal with tomorrow, not when he was so tired already.

You shut your journal, irritated by his behaviour remembering exactly why being in the same vicinity as this man infuriated you. Flipping the lights off and pulling the covers over your shivering body, you realigned your thoughts towards your goal - Tomorrow’s conference was crucial. You had to look your best and do your best so clocking in 8 hours of sleep was the priority, Choi Seungcheol's character development be damned.

But as you lied down turning towards the window, lightning flashed across the sky, a loud thunder following. You turned to see Seungcheol and his back was facing you, the outline of his figure moving up and down rhythmically like he was already in a deep sleep. Slightly relieved yet still unconvinced, you turned towards him before the sleep and tiredness took you away.

Seungcheol simply stared at the wall all night.

Seungcheol most definitely did not sleep all night.

You could tell by the fact that one, he was up without you waking him and two, he was not there in the room right now. That meant he was out for a run which in turn meant his face must have been all swollen which definitely meant he didn’t get enough sleep. You did notice though that his bedding had shifted from bed 1 to bed 2 and guessed it was because of the coldness of the wall - Seungcheol had the habit of tossing and turning at night and there was nothing he hated more than his bare skin accidentally brushing the cold walls. Considering you were still five beds away from him, you ignored it as you went to wash up and prepare for the day.

When he saw the time on his watch as he finished his last lap, Seungcheol realised he was way behind schedule and that you probably were already at breakfast, sitting with a dozen snide remarks, waiting for him. True enough, as he quickly showered, dressed, and headed down to the buffet, you were there already, going through the proposal, the plate beside you nearly empty. Quickly grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing it in his mouth he walked over, putting on his suit jacket in a hurry. As you saw him approach, you shut your laptop, looking at him top to down in an ensemble that fit him all too well. Seungcheol’s eyes wandered over the pretty way you did your hair, and the plunging neckline of your blouse, a sliver of your pink bra peeking from underneath the fabric-

Both of you cleared your throats and looked away.

“We should leave, the cab should be here in-” He glanced at his watch. “-should have been here ten minutes ago, fuck.”

“It’ll be here in ten.” You pushed a cup of coffee towards him, looking at him pointedly to take a seat. Seungcheol glanced at it then back at you.

“You changed the time on my watch.” He huffed annoyed. “Again.”

“Glad to know you are still capable of basic comprehension.”

“You vile woman.” Seungcheol gritted between his teeth, sitting down. “I showered so fast I thought I was going to pass out.”

“But you didn’t.” You shrugged. “And learn to be grateful Seungcheol, you’re only ever on time when I meddle, so say thanks to me.”

“I’d rather die before I thank you.” He took a sip of the coffee before the extreme bitterness hit his tongue, making him spit it out right back into the cup. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“You did say you’d rather die.”

“Fuck you.”

“I know ten minutes is more than enough for you but personally, I prefer longer.”

Every single time. Every single time you flashed him that sweet, mocking smile and every single time it pushed his buttons like no other. One day he swore to put you in your place but right now he was too low on energy for that.

Well aware that you loved strawberries more than anything, he grabbed the last one on your plate and walked off to the taxi stand, ignoring the way you whined behind him.

“Oh, real mature of you Choi Seungcheol!”

You knew in your stress about perfecting the proposal early in the morning you had forgotten something important and the moment you stepped into the room that night, you knew exactly what that was.

To close the windows.

Thanks to the pouring rain, the water had drenched your entire bed, not to forget, your bag full of your clothes which was conveniently placed right on the mattress, soaking nearly every piece of clothing you owned. Thank God the laundry in the lodge said they would handle it for you so you still had an outfit for tomorrow’s conference but there were still two major concerns - one, what to wear tonight and two, where to sleep tonight.

You solved the first problem (almost) by grabbing your umbrella and heading to the nearest clothing store as instructed by the receptionist only to find out it sold barely any ‘cloth’ at all. It was an adult shop, filled majorly with lingerie of all kinds which were aiming to cover as little as possible. Groaning inwardly, knowing you didn’t have a phone on you to go any further in this weather, you grabbed the most decent nightgown you could find and rushed back.

A hot shower, a change of clothes and a quick meal later you decided to deal with your second problem, moving your things from bed 7 to 6, not too displeased considering there were still three beds between the two of you. You glanced at Seungcheol’s empty bed and then at the time - it was well past 10. Sighing, you settled under the covers pulling out your journal to write but got lost in your thoughts instead.

You were pretty proud of what you presented today - people praised you, congratulated you for a well drafted proposal and even went so far as to offer you jobs in their company. Yet you were not satisfied. Somehow, the one thing constantly running in your mind was the swarm of women who had flocked around Seungcheol the moment the conference was done, ‘mindlessly�� touching his arms, ‘casually’ brushing their chests against his, ‘genuinely’ laughing too hard at whatever bullshit came out of his mouth.

This was not new to you, Choi Seungcheol being the centre of attention wherever he went. He enjoyed it, basked in it, and chose to make a show of it whenever he got a chance. It was all so fake and superficial; you could not bear to stand it. That’s why even though everyone decided to go out for dinner and drinks tonight, yes, all twenty-seven of them, you politely said goodbye citing a headache and took a cab back. You were not interested in casual conversation and definitely not interested in seeing Seungcheol’s pathetic flirting.

Just as you begin to relish his absence and the beautiful silence that came with it, a loud knocking on the door and his voice screaming your name ended your perfect night. Grumbling, you opened the door to a fully drenched Seungcheol looking absolutely frazzled.

“What the hell-”

He stopped when his eyes fell on you dressed in a white floor length satin gown, the material seductively clinging to the curves of your body, your leg slightly visible between the slit. You crossed your arms to cover yourself up, feeling conscious under his gaze as he gulped audibly.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He met your eyes, a slight worry flashing behind the anger. “You just disappeared without letting me know-”

“I told you I was leaving.” You walked into the room rolling your eyes. “Maybe if you could see something beyond all that pathetic fangirling you’d have heard.”

“Fangirling?” He looked genuinely confused, following you in as he stripped off his jacket. You tried your best to not stare at the way his pecs were so perfectly outlined under the wet shirt sticking to his body but Seungcheol caught you peering, his features lighting up with amusement.

“Would you look at that?” He smirked. “Someone is jealous.”

“Please.” You scoffed. “I wouldn’t be jealous even if we were the last people on Earth.”

“Obviously, if we were the last people, who would you even be jealous of?”

You sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“I actually don't, sweetheart. If a little action is all you want, you can just ask for it you know?”

“Funny coming from a guy who kissed me just because another man was talking to me.”

The first tea break of the conference had led to an introduction that was surprising to you considering people did not really tend to approach you on their own. It was even more shocking that this man chose to speak to you in the lunch break as well, completely unprompted. He was sweet, not egging you too much with conversation, simply limiting it to work and the conference and then Choi Seungcheol appeared out of nowhere, snaking an arm around your waist, uninvited. Before you could glare at him and send him away, he planted a soft kiss on your cheek, excused himself and led you away from there, only to abandon you the very next second without an explanation.

“You call that a kiss?” Seungcheol scoffed. “You were so swept off your feet, you were this close to spilling details on our quotation for the project. That was actually me shutting you up.”

“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow. “If you really wanted to shut me up, then you should have kissed me on the mouth.”

Seungcheol stared at you wordlessly.

As you began to walk away, he pulled you by the elbow, putting you against the wall, trapping you between his hands on either side.

“Is that how?” He leaned closer, the scent of his cologne taking over your senses. “Because there is nothing I’d love to do more than shut you up.” He cocked his head with a small smile. “And maybe also show you what a kiss really is.”

You tried not to gulp the phantom lump in your throat, cheeks suddenly hot under his gaze. Somehow, as though it had a mind of its own, your hand traced his exposed collar bone, trailing down his chest slowly, eyes following. Seungcheol held his breath under your touch. You stopped your tracks at his hard pecs, right above his heart beating just as fast as yours and looked up at him.

And then twisted his nipple.

Shrieking in pain, Seungcheol stumbled back, clutching his chest.

“What the hell mate?”

You walked towards your bed, grabbing your matching satin night robe and slipping it on. “It's ridiculous that you even think you of all people could show me a real kiss.”

“You forget sweetheart, I was your first one.”

You turned to Seungcheol as he brought up a memory you had actually done a great job forgetting. It was during your senior year - your parents had forced you to accompany Seungcheol to a house party so you could “get more involved in the social scene” instead of holing yourself up in your room all the time. It was a classic game of truth or dare and the worst dare of your life - to kiss Seungcheol for a minute.

Now the last thing you wanted to hear was him teasing you every day about how you were too scared to kiss him so you held him by the collar and pulled yourself into his lap straddling him, your mouth meeting his in a frenzy. If you were being honest, something about that kiss served as your sexual awakening - maybe it was the way he moaned into your mouth, or his hands gripped your ass, or hands entangled in his soft hair or your chest pressed up against his. Whatever it was, there was a video of it that your classmates took circulating somewhere out there, timed around five and a half minutes as opposed to the one minute it was supposed to be.

“Don’t take too much pride in yourself Cheol.” You sat on the bed, leaning back on your hands planted in the mattress. “Only I know how many other guys I had to kiss after that to know what kissing truly is.”

Seungcheol felt his jaw tighten.

Something in you had changed in junior year. Yes, you were still the same antisocial, inhospitable, unapproachable person you always were but somehow every other day, he found you in a new location with a new guy's tongue shoved down your throat. They were not boyfriends, Seungcheol knew that much, and it was the fact that they weren't that made his blood boil with anger.

“You shouldn’t take pride in yourself either sweetheart.” He looked at you with a strange mixture of anger and pity. “There's nothing to feel accomplished about not forming a single real bond in your life.”

The moment the words left his mouth Seungcheol regretted it, knowing he had hit a soft spot. It was too late now; the damage was done - pain was flashing in your eyes.

You looked at the insensitive man before you and laughed at him sadly, mirroring his hurtful words.

“No real bond? I’m afraid you filled that void Seungcheol. Hate forms really strong bonds too.”

And with that you turned away from him, tucking yourself under the sheets, turning off the lights on your side of the room. Grabbing his towel and a change of clothes, Seungcheol locked himself up in the bathroom, your words piercing his heart like no other. Over the years yes, the two of you argued and fought and annoyed each other and couldn’t stand one another but hate? He didn’t ever think that’s what you felt for him. Perhaps he deserved it - he had after all crossed a line with that comment.

He knew you had always struggled around people. He knew that even though you detested taking his help for anything, in every social setting, you would always choose to hide behind him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to interact, you just couldn’t. You were a sick child since birth, constantly brought down by various illnesses that often confined you to your room - you didn’t go out to play with the other children, you didn’t join the kids on their trips to the ice cream shop, you didn’t go late night camping with your classmates, you didn’t do a lot of what kids your age did.

And when you were old enough, when you were healthy enough to step out into the world, you didn’t know how to anymore. Hence you continued to stay in your own shell, closing yourself off from everyone, wary of any and all interactions. Seungcheol knew all this, that’s why when he couldn't lay his eyes on you in the crowd of the conference, the panic he felt was like no other. He never thought he would ever feel his heart stop but Seungcheol felt it twice today - once when he lost you and the other when you said that. I’m afraid you filled that void Seungcheol. Hate forms really strong bonds too.

You stared out of the window, mildly annoyed by all the light falling in your face, Seungcheol’s words ringing in your ears. It might have sounded harsh but he was right. You never formed real bonds with anyone, you could never bring yourself to. Having spent years all by yourself, you didn’t know what it was like to let another person into a space that was entirely yours. That’s why, though you engaged in all sorts of flings and hookups, you never let it go beyond that - you never let yourself lose your heart to someone, walking away from them before they could walk away from you.

In that sense, Seungcheol was indeed the realest bond you had - just a constantly present, mildly irritating, oddly comforting white noise in your life. It was easy with him - you never had to think in his presence, you never had to wonder whether anything would drive him away, never had to worry about keeping him by your side unconditionally - he was always there. Somehow what you felt for Seungcheol was liberating in a way you hadn’t even realized. Hate could hardly define that; you were unnecessarily harsh earlier.

Seungcheol stepped out of the bathroom, eyes falling on your unmoving figure which he just realized was on bed 6 instead of 7. Noticing the damp sheets and piecing it together, he didn’t think too much of it as he switched off the lights and crawled into his bed.

Hearing the sounds of him shuffling, you turned towards him.

“Are you not going for the dinner?”

“It’s too late now. I would have eaten there if I didn’t have to run back here to check up on you.”

“You could have just called me.”

“I did.” He turned to you, looking at just your silhouette in the darkness. “A few hundred times.”

You checked your phone immediately and it wasn’t a hundred times but there were some fifty odd calls from him and two dozen messages.

“I put my phone on silent during the conference and forgot to take it off.” You mumbled, just a little guilty that he was missing out on a gathering because of you. “Did you at least eat?”

“I’m not hungry, thanks to all the Americanos you kept feeding me all day.”

“If not for that, you would have been snoring in the conference barely an hour after it began.” You turned to lie on your back, facing the ceiling. “And I wouldn’t have had to do that if you’d just obediently drank that double shot espresso in the morning.”

Seungcheol remembered you sliding the coffee cup to him and smiled to himself in the dark.

“Then maybe you should also listen to me and stop munching on those strawberries every chance you get, especially when you know they flare your allergies.”

You remembered Seungcheol gobbling up the last berry and smiled to yourself in the dark.

“Goodnight, you obnoxious prick.”

“Goodnight, you insufferable fiend."

When you woke up in the morning, two things had changed - one, Seungcheol had moved from bed 2 to bed 3 in the middle of the night and two, his shirt was gone, discarded somewhere in the mess on the floor. He was lying sprawled on his bare stomach, his back covered in a thin sheet of sweat, his tattoo shining as the light hit it. Ignoring the sight before you with much difficulty, you shook him awake.

“Get up Cheol, we’re going to be late.”

He groaned, rolling over, eyes slowly blinking open, falling on you first thing in the morning. Even though you were dressed in the sultriest thing he had ever seen on you, Seungcheol controlled himself and tore his eyes away.

“The radiator is right across the other bed; I was literally burning all night.” He mumbled, stretching awake, justifying his move.

You turned towards it noticing how it was in fact between bed two and three, closer to three than two to be honest. Considering Seungcheol was still drenched in sweat, his move in the middle of the night was actually quite pointless, but you chose not to say anything about it. Quickly washing up, the two of you rushed for breakfast, skimming over the presentation notes one last time. Today, neither of you noticed but Seungcheol drank the coffee and you didn’t eat the strawberries.

Day two went by in a flash much like day one. Only this time, you didn’t talk to the gentleman from yesterday, choosing to sit quietly by Seungcheol in the break and he didn’t leave your side either, regardless of all the ladies calling him to join them. In the evening, as the team headed to the city’s best karaoke bar, inviting you and Seungcheol again, Seungcheol brushed them off claiming the two of you had a little more work to do on the proposal. To his surprise, you shot him down, agreeing to join everyone, looking at him with a small smile.

“Don’t be such a killjoy darling.”

Seungcheol knew you were compensating for last night so he followed, well aware that you would most likely want to leave the moment the singing started. Well, he was almost right - you actually wanted to leave the moment you stepped foot into the room, turning to him with pleading eyes. Seungcheol turned you by your shoulder, laughing as he led you in.

“Don’t be such a killjoy sweetheart.”

You sat patiently as the beers poured in and people around you fought for the photobooth props. Seungcheol was sitting right beside you, his thigh a comforting weight against yours, laughing with everyone. As the night progressed, you had downed a beer or two, a slight buzz taking over, not noticing the way Seungcheol had his arm around you now or that you were warmly cuddled against his torso. Soon, one by one, everyone settled on the couches, tired from all the screaming, resorting to chatter instead and deciding on an old-fashioned game of truth or dare. Seungcheol smirked at you and you turned his face away with a soft push.

“So Seungcheol,” The man beside him spoke. “Truth or dare?”

“Neither actually. We should leave now.” He stood, pulling you up, stumbling slightly. “I’ve had too much to drink and it's late, Y/n needs to sleep.”

“Didn’t realize wacky wallflower here also had the bedtime of a toddler.” One of Seungcheol’s many fangirls piqued, jealousy stark on her face. “We can book her a cab, why don’t you stay a little longer, Cheolie?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused at the nickname, and at her jealousy but Seungcheol did not find anything about her words even remotely funny.

“No thanks, I go where she goes.”

“I thought you guys weren’t dating? Then why-”

“That doesn’t change what I said.” His voice dropped an octave. “I go where she goes.”

“Cheol.” You placed a hand on his chest, sensing his anger rising. “It’s fine, let’s stay for a few rounds, yeah?”

Seungcheol looked at you frowning as you sat down, pulling him with you. The girl you already disliked but quite vehemently hate now, spun the bottle with a giggle.

“We don’t have to stay.” Seungcheol whispered as the guy beside you excitedly asked the one across him a question. “You stayed long enough, you need sleep-”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m not.” He spoke between gritted teeth. “Just looking at that foul woman makes me mad. I already said I wasn’t interested in her, she had no reason to be a bitch.”

“Well then don’t you want to put the bitch in her place Cheol?”

You looked at him with big doe eyes which terrified Seungcheol even more. What on Earth were you up to?

“Y/n, you get to ask Yuri!”

You looked at the bottle to see it pointing between you and your little conquest of the night. Hook.

“Truth or dare?” Line.

“Dare.” And Sinker.

“Okay Yuri, then I dare you to not take your eyes off.”

You pulled Seungcheol by the collar, smashing your lips on his, swallowing his audible moan. His hands immediately found your waist, pulling you closer, up against his body, teeth roughly tugging your lower lip. Hand sliding up his neck and across his jaw, you entangled your fingers in his hair, drawing him even closer denying even air the right to come between the two of you. Yes, it was all a show for Yuri or whatever her name was, but at a point, she stomped her foot and got up, running out of the room. Perhaps the two of you should have stopped then or at least when you were running out of breath. But you only broke apart when someone dropped a beer bottle, smashing the glass loudly on the floor. Seungcheol and you looked at it, faces flushed, lips swollen. A low whistle echoed in the room.

“We-” Seungcheol cleared his throat, trying to get his voice back. “We should get going.”

“Y-yeah.” You agreed, getting up and grabbing your things as Seungcheol smoothened his hair with his hand, muttering a small goodbye to everyone. As the two of you stepped out of the room, you found Yuri crying at the entrance, her friend trying her best to console her. Not sparing her another glance, you walked away, Seungcheol following you close behind. As the cold air hit you when you reached the taxi stand, you felt a painful sting on your lower lip, making you hiss. Hand cupping your face, Seungcheol wiped the trickle of blood with his thumb.

“Guess you desperately did need a real kiss huh?”

“Shut up.” You smacked his hand away. “I had to help the poor girl get over her pathetic taste in men.”

“By getting a taste of me?” Seungcheol smirked as you rolled your eyes. Before you could say anything, his stomach let out a loud growl making you laugh and look around, spotting a burger joint.

“Let’s get you a taste of that big boy.”

“Sometimes I wonder-” You stared out of the window at the large clouds rolling in. “-considering our parents are best friends and we are not, do you think our children would be good friends or enemies?”

“Wow, children.” Seungcheol munched on his burger furiously. “I never thought that far.”

“Then think about it now.”

“I don’t know.” He hummed. He hated thinking when he was tipsy. “Siblings tend to have a love-hate relationship.”

“I was talking about our children Seungcheol.”

“So was I.”

“No, I mean, my own children and your own children.”

“Yeah, same thing.”

You looked at him exasperatedly.

“Let’s be honest here Y/n. Who else out there can put up with us for long enough to start a family?”

“We can barely put up with each other-”

“But we have, for almost 25 years.” He slurped on his drink. “There’s a reason why you have never been in a relationship and I have never been in one that lasts. Because whatever it is we share, it’s you and I, till the end.”

“Till the end.” You muttered, reaching for his burger, taking a bite from it. Judging by your expression, Seungcheol could tell you liked his better, like you always do. That’s why he made sure to get it without the tomatoes he usually loved and settled to eat your meal instead. He was just about to ask why exactly you were so lost in thought when a loud thunder boomed across the sky sending a shiver running down Seungcheol’s spine.

Shoving the last of the burger down your throat quickly washing it down with some soda, you began gathering your things.

“We should go before the rain starts.”

Seungcheol nodded, finishing up his meal as you threw the trash in the nearby can. As the two of you left, muttering your thank yous to the waitresses, you laced your fingers with Seungcheol’s, gripping him tight as another lightning flashed across the sky. Thank God it wasn’t too hard to flag down a cab because the moment the two of you sat inside, rain began pouring like there was no tomorrow. As you glanced at the obscurity outside the window, Seungcheol stared at his hand, the one that you hadn’t left in all this time.

There were times when he used to stay over in your room, unable to sleep due to all the thundering while you dozed away oblivious to his presence. Those days, you’d turn around, reaching for his hand, holding it in your sleep. Seungcheol now wondered if that might have been a conscious effort to comfort him.

Perhaps not he thought as you began to nonchalantly hum his favourite song. He wondered if you knew he loved that piece because of how beautiful you looked when you danced to it. He wondered if you knew that the reason he was always around you was to make sure you were alright. He wondered if you knew he always carried an extra inhaler for you, that he had written a long list of your allergies in order from ‘can handle’ to ‘keep away from at all times’, that he was constantly alert about everything you ate, smelt and touched. He wondered if you knew, deep down how much he cared about you…..but sleep dragged him away before he could wonder anymore.

Sensing Seungcheol had fallen asleep, you stopped humming, turning to him, smiling at his half open mouth. Scooting closer, you slowly pulled his head to rest against your shoulder, and he groaned softly, nuzzling into it. The driver looked at the two of you through the rear-view mirror, making your cheeks go red as you looked away.

“Is your boyfriend afraid of thunderstorms?”

You nodded, ignoring the title. “Since he was a child. I don’t think he’s been sleeping too well the last few days.”

“The forecast shows it’s going to be worse today.” The driver sighed. “Look out for him.”

You nodded again. You did look out for him. In your own ways you always did - you always challenged him knowing that was what pushed him to do better. You always made sure to wake him up or at least meddle with his clocks so he was always on time. You always made sure he ate and slept enough, knowing how it threw him off whenever he was deprived of either. Even now you were humming his favourite song knowing it calmed him down. You wondered if Seungcheol knew, that deep down you really cared about him…..perhaps more than anything.

When the taxi reached the lodge, you softly shook him awake after paying, dragging his sleepy self through the lobby. The receptionist's eyes followed the two of you, stumbling away hand in hand, mouth curling into a small smile as you disappeared. You only let his hand go when you reached the room and that’s what jolted him awake.

The silence that descended the room today was different. It wasn’t because the two of you were too tired to say anything to each other, rather neither of you knew what exactly to say given there was so much to. So instead, you resorted to washing up and filling in your journal for the day while Seungcheol worked on a few changes in the proposal for the final pitch tomorrow. Just as he shut the laptop and you shut your diary, the two of you looked at each other before quickly looking away, settling in your own beds, for the night.

You were almost ready to drift off to sleep, before the driver’s words rang in your mind - the forecast shows it’s going to be worse today. Without thinking much, you moved your things from bed 6 to bed 5, muttering that the light from the streetlamps was falling in your face there. Seungcheol did not point out that you could just close the curtains instead and curled up in his own bed, glad you were closer to him now.

He looked at you across the one bed that was in between and suddenly you felt too far, like the distance was too much.

You looked at him as his eyes fluttered shut, thunder rumbling across the sky, wondering if he could hear you across all this space, humming louder than usual, lulling the two of you to sleep.

When you woke up, Seungcheol was surprisingly awake and fully dressed, trying to knot his tie unsuccessfully in front of the mirror, expression focused with a small pout. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you stared at his reflection, eyes skimming over the beautiful features of his face which you never really consciously admired - his thick hair, thicker eyebrows, plump, pillowy lips, his jawline sharp and chiselled. He was indeed handsome, in a way you really liked….a lot.

You wondered why you always looked at him like he was the bane of your existence. Was it because it was easier to bury the unresolved tension under pointless banter? Or did you wantonly show him your worst side, hoping it wouldn’t scare him away, hoping he would stay despite every flaw, every shortcoming. What did it mean if in 25 years, he didn’t leave even once?

Seungcheol groaned, annoyed at his futile attempts, eyes finally meeting yours in the mirror. You slid off your bed, walking up to him as he turned to you. Yawning, you took his tie in your hands, tying it for him. Seungcheol’s eyes drifted over the features of your face as he held his breath.

He could get used to this, the sight of waking up to a sleepy you, your hair all over the place, your eyes slightly droopy, nose red. God you were so beautiful - he knew that, but why didn’t he ever think about it? Why did he choose to fight every remote thought about you with irritating banter? Was he scared that the tension would remain unresolved? And what did it mean if you were still here, right by his side, helping him out in everything big and small, always making sure he was going the right way and doing the right thing, every single day for the last 25 years?

You pushed the knot up to his neck, smoothening the material, patting his chest with a proud smile. Seungcheol gulped as you walked away to wash up, trying to get his breath under control.

When the two of you came down for breakfast, you pointedly avoided the receptionist's gaze. There was no time to deal with more thoughts.

The rest of the day went like that, thoughtlessly. It was a little awkward at the conference considering the little show you two put up last night, so the moment it ended for good in the evening, you bid everyone goodbye, citing you had an early flight and had to leave soon. It was true though, you did have to travel in the wee hours of the morning, but leaving from the conference so soon also meant having to spend longer with Seungcheol, all alone. He agreed with you though, stating his social battery was at an all-time low and that he just wanted to go back.

Today the two of you were somehow sitting on two ends of the car backseat, bodies pressing against the door, in complete contrast to last night. It was a silent ride, a silent walk to the room and a silent session of packing up. Suddenly there were very conscious efforts to not brush hands, or accidentally walk into each other or catch the other person randomly staring, lost in thought. It was only when you were finally done that you asked Seungcheol if he wanted to order dinner. He agreed, leading to a very small and very efficient discussion about what dishes to eat and then silence descended upon the room again. While waiting for the food to arrive, Seungcheol muttered that he was going for a quick run, leaving you alone with the thoughts you could no longer stop from plaguing your mind.

Something had changed over the last 3 days. It wasn’t you or Seungcheol - he was still throwing his damp towels on dry clothes and you were still meddling with his clocks. No, the two of you hadn’t changed. Neither did the arguing, neither did the banter, neither did the subtle flirting, neither did the silent support. No…. nothing had changed. It was all the same. It was all the exact same except now, you were finally willing to acknowledge something you hadn’t even admitted to yourself since the age of five, that-

“I’m in love with him.” You whispered, smiling to yourself.

Seungcheol on the other hand thought running around the lodge would mean those thoughts wouldn’t run in his mind anymore. He was wrong - even though you were not there, like always you were on his mind, in his every thought, in his every breath. Seungcheol didn’t know of a life without you. He also knew that you would be there with him for the rest of his life but for the first time in 25 years, he finally found himself owning up to it - that he truly wanted you be a part of his future, that he could not bear to think of one without you in it, that-

“I’m in love with her.” He whispered, smiling to himself.

By the time Seungcheol had returned, dinner had arrived. Between each bite you searched for the right words to say, noticing that Seungcheol was trying the same. Somehow, neither of you could bring yourself to say anything.

You couldn’t peacefully finish up your journal and Seungcheol couldn’t take a relaxing shower, both muttering under your breaths, practicing long speeches, determined to confess everything before sleeping tonight.

But when all was done for the night, both of you laid down on your respective beds, staring at the ceiling, unable to talk, unable to sleep.

Seungcheol turned his head as you did towards him, making his heart clench a little.

Sighing, he grabbed his pillow and put it on bed 4, lying down, facing you.

You looked at him blinking slowly.

Seungcheol held his breath.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your duvet and joined him on the fourth bed, throwing it over the two of you, lying down, facing him.

Seungcheol slid his hand over your waist, pulling you closer.

You gripped the material of his shirt, snuggling into the warmth of his neck.

Nothing was said that night.

Nothing had to be said as the two of you drifted off to sleep.

It was the harsh morning sun and the annoying chirping of the birds that woke you up.

You stared out of the window surprised at the bright light given the last few days were as gloomy as it could be. Seungcheol’s soft breaths tickled your shoulder as his arms held you tight, your back against his chest. Smiling you wiggled in his grip turning towards him, taking in how much more stunning he looked in the morning light-

Morning?

“Cheol.”

He hummed softly.

“Cheol!”

“What?”

“It’s bright outside.”

“That’s how mornings are Y/n.”

“Oh thank you for enlightening me.” You rolled your eyes. “Might I return the favour by reminding you that we had a flight at 5am?”

Seungcheol’s eyes flew open.

He quickly grabbed his phone from the nightstand, 11am flashing on the screen.

“Fuck.” He muttered, running his hand through his hair. “Fuck fuck fuck, I can’t believe we missed the flight!”

You took the phone from him and scrolled through the app. “The next flight out is tomorrow morning, same time, 5am.”

“But the company hasn’t paid for the room tonight, where will we stay?” Seungcheol groaned. “How could you not wake me up?”

You frowned at him. “And why is it my job to?”

“Because, you don’t like it when I put alarms on my phone.”

“Uh no, I don’t like it when you continue to sleep through the dozen alarms you put on your phone.”

“Whatever your reasons are, I think its been established that you are the one who's supposed to wake us both up.”

“Yeah well thanks to you I forgot to set an alarm.”

“Thanks to me?” He looked at you bewildered. “What did I do?”

“Who asked you to..” You pointed at everything around with the wave of a hand, the two of you only just registering the situation you were in.

“You were the one who came to my bed.” Seungcheol shrugged. “This is on you because you were desperate.”

“Says the one who’s boner poking into my back woke me up.”

Seungcheol gawked at you, stuttering. “M-morning wood is a scientific phenomenon, okay? I can’t help it-”

“I could have.” You muttered, slipping out of the bed.

Seungcheol pulled you back under him, half hovering over you.

“Oh yeah?” He bit his lower lip with a small smile. “How exactly?”

You hummed, “I happen to know some good meditation techniques-”, running a finger down his abdomen, tracing a random design.

Seungcheol grabbed your hand and pinned it to the mattress by your face, leaning close.

“Think of a better way, baby.”

The nickname sent a delightful chill down your spine as you slightly squirmed under him, smiling.

“How about I get you some ice-”

“That’s not what I want right now.”

“Then what do you want right now?”

His eyes ran along the features of your face.

“I want to kiss you.” He whispered. “So bad.”

“And what are you waiting for?”

Seungcheol groaned, immediately pressing his lips onto yours, needy and ravenous, like he had been waiting eons for this. Well, so had you.

Pushing him off you and onto his back, you straddled his hips, kissing him again, rolling your tongue over his. Seungcheol moaned into your mouth, one hand wrapping around your waist, the other holding you by the nape of your neck, taking back control. When you ran your hand over his thick pecs, he pulled away with a dreamy sigh, planting a trail of kisses along your jaw, down your throat.

“Strip for me.”

Sitting up immediately, you lifted your hips a little letting Seungcheol push the material of your nightdress up your thighs and you pulled it over your head, tossing it somewhere. In the ten seconds it took you to do that, Seungcheol was a changed man. The old him wanted to take his time unravelling you slowly, pushing you to the edge but the new Seungcheol felt the animal in him come alive with a throbbing, insatiable desire. It became exponentially worse when you pulled your hair up, tying it with the hair tie on your wrist, baring your neck, perfect breasts, soft stomach….unable to reign it in anymore, Seungcheol lunged forward, hungrily sucking a tit into his mouth, making you lose your balance over him a little, grabbing his bicep half laughing.

“Huh, I really thought you were more of an ass guy.”

Seungcheol let go with a wet pop, looking up at you from between his thick lashes. Oh wasn’t that a sight.

“For you, I’m an everything guy.” His hands gripped your ass hard. “Your derriere does take the cake though.”

You laughed, “Who even uses that word?”

“I don’t know, I have no idea what is coming out of my mouth right now.” He confessed, his tongue running up the gap between your boobs, the sweet and salty taste of your skin driving him insane. “I just know what I want in it.”

“Yeah?” You sighed, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him back with a harsh grip, before he latched onto your other tit. “I have better things to put in it.”

Seungcheol grinned like he couldn’t wait, flashing his canines, biting his lower lip.

God he was going to be the end of you.

But you’ll beat him to it.

Palms planted behind you, you slid yourself back off his thighs and sat between his legs, lifting your own up for him. Seungcheol’s eyes darkened in an instant and the moment he saw the wet spot in the middle of your pink panties, he could not hold himself back anymore. With a swift movement he was up on his knees before you, hooking his fingers in the elastic by your waist and slowly dragging your underwear along your legs. Like a man starving he crumpled it in his hand, breathing it deeply, eyes fluttering shut like he was intoxicated by your scent.

“I’m going to be borrowing this, for whenever you’re not there.”

“Pervert.” You whispered as he tucked it in the back pocket of his tracks. “But I’m never not going to be there. I’m afraid you’re stuck for life now.”

Seungcheol fisted the material at the back of his neck and pulled it over his head, flinging it somewhere before he put his hands between your knees and spread your legs apart, groaning at the sight before him. You were quite literally hiding his paradise between your legs.

“Trust me,” He reached for a pillow behind him, throwing it to you. “I want to be stuck here.”

The moment you tucked it under your head lying back, Seungcheol wasted no time in crawling between your legs, tossing them over his shoulder, descending on your sex. You felt your back arch off the mattress as he devoured, his tongue, mouth, lips all showing you stars in daytime.

“Fuck Cheol.” You whimpered as his tongue slipped into your hole, his moan sending a wild vibration against it. Bringing your hands to his head, your fingers gripped his hair, pushing your hips up against him “Give me more.”

Seungcheol smirked, pressing your hips down, continuing his ministrations in a way that made your toes curl. Damn he knew what he was doing. For a split second you wondered how he knew so much and an ugly jealousy began coursing through you but it was lost almost immediately, when he began to suck on your clit.

“Cheol….” You moaned, the sudden stimulation too intense for you, a tightness growing deep inside. “F-fuck that’s good.”

Seungcheol knew he was good. Not because he was experienced, not exactly - more because he was desperate to taste every inch of you. If he thought the taste of your arousal was heavenly, the moment your legs trembled and your breaths got harsher and you came against his mouth, Seungcheol knew he’d cast aside the heavens for it. This wasn’t enough.

This was probably the fastest orgasm you ever had, waves of the buzz washing over as your jaw fell slack. You rode it out against his mouth, tense shivers running down your body as his nose grazed your clit before falling limp into the softness of the bed, chest heaving.

Seungcheol was so noisily devoted to making you fall apart on his tongue, he wasn't sure if you didn't moan his name or if he was too entranced to hear it. Either way, he had to go again, keeping in mind to put his eyes on you this time. When he looked up at you, your face was flushed, lips curled into a blissful smile and Seungcheol thought he fell more in love with you, if that was even possible.

“We're gonna have to talk about why you're so good at that.” You half laughed, trying to sit up. Seungcheol pushed you back down, throwing another pillow at you, humming.

“How good was I exactly?”

“Nice try big boy,” You stacked the pillow over the previous one, leaning back against it. “I'm not going to feed your ego.”

“I'll feed myself then.” He smirked before licking a long strip between your folds making you tremble with over stimulation.

“Cheol not yet-”

“If I don't hear you I'm not going to stop.”

And he descended upon you like a mad man again, making you gasp in surprise. You did not think he'd go through with it.

“Cheol I really can't-”

but Seungcheol did not stop.

When he didn’t listen, you reached to pull him off you but Seungcheol was quicker as he grabbed both your wrists in a flash and held them against your heaving chest, continuing to eat the life out of you.

“Seungcheol please.” You couldn’t even squirm if you tried to, held down hard by his brute strength. “I really can’t-”

He looked up, his mouth wet with his spit and your arousal as he licked his lips. Fuck you really loved this man.

“Do you actually want me to stop?”

He was taunting you but there's a slight concern laced in his voice.

You shook your head slowly.

“I thought so.” He chuckled before continuing his act of wolfing down on you.

Your second orgasm began to rush in with an unreal speed and you don't know how Seungcheol could read your body so well already but the little bitch backed out before you could cum again.

“Cheol…”

You whined, frustrated at the feeling ebbing away, desperately clenching to hold on to it.

“I said I wanted to hear you.”

You glared at him, not used to him having the upper hand. He knew he's got you under control when he finally loosened his bruising grip on your thigh to sit up and you opened your mouth on your own accord to let him slip his fingers into them.

“What a pretty little girl.” He sighed as you sucked on his digits. “My pretty girl.”

“Yes yours.” You moaned, as he pulled them out of your mouth and pushed them into his, wetting them more as you practically panted below him.

“I'll do what you want, just put them in me Cheol.”

“You're quite demanding baby.” He leaned over you looking amused. “I hope you deliver as well as you talk.”

“I'll suck the life out of your dick after this I swear, just let me cum again.”

Enticed by the idea, Seungcheol captured your mouth in another one of his messy kisses, his fingers slowly slipping into your heat. You gasped into his mouth, surprised by how thick his fingers were. Oh his dick would probably make you pass out and god were you ready for it.

“Say my name baby.” Seungcheol pressed his forehead against yours, still holding your wrists between both your bodies with his other hand. “Tell me who's making you feel so good.”

“You.” You moaned as he pumped his fingers, slowly stretching you open, your arousal dripping down between your thighs. “Fuck Cheol, faster.”

He obeyed, picking up the pace as you babbled a string of curses, legs squeezing his hand desperate to feel more. Seungcheol sucked on your neck, enjoying the way you were crumbling apart for him. How was he ever going to be away from you after this?

“Oh god yes.” You sighed, as his fingers curled hitting the spot, eyes rolling back. Seungcheol looked at you in awe.

“I apologise if I ever told you that it was annoying when you rolled your eyes.” He continued to push you over. “That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.”

“Yes yes yes.” You chanted not hearing him, too lost in your own pleasure building. Pleased with himself, Seungcheol finally put his thumb over your clit and that was all it took for you to cum all over his fingers with yet another silent scream.

Seungcheol let your hands go and sat back on his heels, admiring his artwork. Your chest heaved erratically like you had forgotten how to breathe, squeezing your tits, hands desperate to claw something. Hair sticking to your forehead, sweat running down your neck next to the bruises he marked, you were a vision to behold.

Seungcheol sucked his fingers clean, relishing the taste of you yet again. You stared at him wide eyed, curious.

“Have you never tasted yourself?”

You shook your head.

“Oh sweetheart.”

Seungcheol pushed his tracks down just a bit, enough to pull his dick out. It's not the longest you've seen but God was it thick, a stark vein running down the length which looked painfully hard. The thought of having him fill your mouth and choking around it literally made you drool.

He pumped it a few times before hooking his hands under your thighs and pulling you towards him with unsurprising ease. You scrambled to raise yourself up on your elbows, watching as he ran it up and down your slit, gathering your release on it.

“Come taste.”

You blinked at the man holding out his dick to you like it was a treat, like he expected you to crawl to him, stunned at just how cocky he had gotten in 20 minutes. Hell no.

You shook your head, tilting it in challenge.

“Come fuck my mouth.”

If Choi Seungcheol had a fatal flaw it was how much he desired control but right now, there was nothing he desired and craved more than you.

Moving over not so gracefully he aligned himself by your mouth, knees planted on either sides of your waist, looming over you.

You immediately wrapped your lips around his tip, humming at the weight on your tongue as he pushed your hair off your face softly.

“I know baby, you taste fucking divine.”

Giving him a half nod, running your tongue over his slit before hollowing your cheeks around him. The mix of your and his arousal indeed tasted….right, like they belonged together.

You tried to take in more of him but you might have underestimated his girth and overestimated your ability. Pulling back with a pop, you licked your lips.

“You're too thick.” Mumbling you tried to push him off you, onto his back. “Let me move over-”

“Oh no no.” Seungcheol clicked his tongue, grabbing the back of you neck, forcing you to look up at him. “It can't be that bad, someone claimed they could stack fruit loops on it.”

You rolled your eyes realising he was a bit too proud of himself. “I still can. I just don't have the cereal to prove it.”

“I'll buy some on the way back and when we go home that's the first thing you're going to do.” He wiped the spit leaking around the corner of your mouth with his free hand. “And if you don't manage to prove your point, that's grounds for punishment.”

You grinned at him.

“Oh you like that.” He hummed, guiding your head back to his cock. “We'll see how much of it you can take baby.”

A lot apparently.

Seungcheol should have known. You were like him - you didn't like to be challenged. That's why the moment he thrusted himself into your mouth, you held onto the back of his thighs with both hands, pushing it in a lot more than Seungcheol had thought you were capable of. Throwing his head back with a satisfied moan, he began moving his hips ever so little, slowly fucking your face, but you had other ideas, taking him as far back as you could, your throat constricting around his dick.

“Alright that's it.” Seungcheol pulled you off him, staring at your confused face. Somehow you had no gag reflex and Seungcheol suddenly had the endurance of a teenager. “Want to actually fuck you.”

He muttered drawing back, kicking off the remaining of his clothes and sitting up, trying to hide his breathlessness.

“Aw Cheol, was I right again?” You laughed, getting up and clambering onto his lap. “Is ten minutes really enough for you?”

“You'll see.” He pulled you into a deep kiss before abruptly breaking away, leaving you confused yet again. “Or not.”

“What?”

“I just realised… I don't have a condom.”

You waited for him to tell you he was kidding but he looked serious.

“Cheol….” He looked at you apologetically. “Ugh Choi Seungcheol, why not?!”

“One, don't call me that and two, I don't know, maybe because this was a work trip and the conference dress code didn't mention dick envelopes.”

You sighed annoyed. “I just always thought you'd carry one on you, xl sized.” You shot his overconfidence down before it even grew on him. “you know, for your head.”

“Oh because I'm a dick?” He rolled his eyes at the comment you had used on him too many times already. “Well, wouldn't that make you a little slut? Since you’ve been in love with me for so many years.”

“Who said I was in love with you?”

Seungcheol looked at you with the biggest, fucking cutest eyes. “Are you not?”

You smiled, surprisingly shy despite all that transpired so far. Honestly, you didn't have to answer that question. What you felt for each other was clear as day.

Putting a finger on his mouth, you whispered. “Less talking, more fucking please.”

Seungcheol groaned. “What do you want me to do? Go buy them now?”

“No…” You hated the thought of him leaving.

“Or…. I could pull out?”

“The last thing I trust in this world is your timing.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Besides, don't you want to be inside me when you cum? Squeezing you tight? Milking you dry?”

“Kinky.” Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, secretly delighted. “And shoot me if I ever say no to that, but you're not on birth control are you?”

“No…” You drawled. “But I can get plan b?”

“Baby, you realize how reckless this is-”

“I know.”

“-we've barely just-”

“I'm aware.”

“-plus your health-”

“Choi Seungcheol.” You pushed him back into the bed, annoyed. “Are you gonna fuck me or not? Because if you don't then I'm gonna do it myself and all you get is to watch-”

Seungcheol, tucked his arm under his head, looking like he liked that idea a little too much.

“-while I cum taking someone else's name.”

His eyes darkened as his hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you down to his eye level, “Try me sweetheart.”

“You know how I feel about challenges.”

“And you know how I feel about sharing what’s mine.”

“Then fuck me like I’m yours.”

Seungcheol smiled, dropping a soft kiss on your mouth, much in contrast to what followed. “Remember, you asked for this.”

One arm wrapped around your waist, he flipped you over, putting you below him once again, the hunger in his eyes burning a lot more now. As he shifted to push your legs apart, hand leaving your neck, a soft whine left you and Seungcheol caught it immediately.

“You’re into that too?” Seungcheol smirked as you frowned at him, annoyed.

“Apparently. I just found out as well.”

“I wonder what else you’re into.”

“You can wonder all you want, after you put that dick into me.”

Seungcheol clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I don’t like how you think I’d listen.”

Yet before you could talk back, he slid his cock along your folds, the tip slightly dipping into your hole, pulling out the most exquisite moan from you.

“Now that’s something I’d listen to.” He pushed himself a little further, your hands immediately coming to grip his biceps, gasping again at just how big he was. Seungcheol had been dying to listen to you sound like this and god was it so worth it.

You attempted to relax, adjusting around his girth as he eased himself in, but gave up even trying to maintain the facade of composure when he bottomed out, pressing all the way in.

“Fuck yes Cheol.”

He hissed softly, feeling your soft walls flutter around him. He had never fucked anyone raw and after this, how was he expected to just not spend his whole life buried in you?

“Please, move.” You begged, and he folded immediately, his hips slowly picking up pace as he kissed you along your neck.

“We should have done this years ago.” He groaned, wrapping your legs around his hips, pounding faster, harder. “We should have been doing this for years now.”

You nodded half listening, half submerged in your pleasure, nails running down his back. “Let’s just never get out of this bed.”

Seungcheol chuckled, absolutely agreeing with that idea, snapping his hips faster, delighted by the way you were reacting under him.

He wanted to flip you around and take you from the back, mark your ass with the red prints of his hand. He wanted you sitting on him, fucking yourself on his dick while he watched, your head thrown back in pleasure. He wanted to eat you out till you cried, fuck your throat and make you swallow, pull every moan and every whine and ever chant of his name out of you. God he wanted so much but Seungcheol wasn't capable of any of those right now - he had been hard for almost an hour now and your grip around him was like a vice.

“Seungcheol more.” You whined, despite him already railing into you like there was no tomorrow. He still listened though, sliding his hand down between your bodies and finding you clit, well aware that you would probably go unbelievably tight the moment he touched it, rendering him absolutely helpless. Sure enough, you keened, clamping down on him hard the moment he began rubbing circles, a string of curses leaving your mouth.

“Cum for me.” He whispered, hips rutting against yours harshly, holding his own release back desperately. “Cum all over me.”

And you did, the pleasure washing over you in waves, legs tightening around him before they finally went slack, exhausted. Seungcheol pulled them off him, gripping your thighs instead, shifting from an erratic rhythm to quick, deep strokes as he finally came inside you, collapsing on top.

He was careful enough not to crush you under his weight, holding himself up a little so you could regain your breath, watching your eyes flutter tiredly.

“We need to get you cleaned up.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, glancing at your mixed arousals dripping out of you. “I don’t know how long the statute of limitations for ejaculate is….”

For the first time in your life, Choi Seungcheol had managed to turn you dumb, as you nodded mindlessly, not having registered the stupidity that just came out of him.

He chuckled, rolling off you, but you dragged him back by the wrist, wrapping your arms around him.

“Hold me.”

And as though the universe hated you, a sharp knock on the door made you two jump apart. Seungcheol still proceeded to hold you but the knocking only repeated, louder this time. He huffed annoyed, sliding off the bed, grabbing his shirt from the floor and threw it on. Opening the door just a little, half hiding behind it, lower half specifically, he peaked out but his plan was foiled when the receptionist pushed the door fully open and came barging in, throwing her hands around.

“Check out time was 12! You’re late-”

She froze as Seuncheol quickly covered himself with a towel from nearby and you scrambled in a hurry, hiding under the sheets, squirming in embarrassment.

The old woman slowly, still shocked to the core, muttered an apology and walked out of the room as Seungcheol smacked his head against the wall, regretting not wearing his pants.

“You…” She cleared her throat from the other side of the door. “You have till 2. Get it together and get out of my lodge.” She then walked away, the sound of her footsteps fading, before they suddenly got louder again. “I would also like to add that I knew this was going to happen from the moment you two stepped foot in here!”

You covered your face trying not to pass out from the embarrassment as Seungcheol locked the door laughing.

"Why does she sound so happy?"

“I cannot believe she saw us." You groaned. "Who walks in like that-”

“Who cares?” Seungcheol walked over to you. “I cannot believe we still have two more hours.”

“You’re not even ready to go again.” You looked pointedly at the softened dick in his hand that he was pumping lazily. “Besides, we're going to have to book the room again, for tonight.”

“2 hours isn’t enough for you? Oh baby-”

“Our flight is at 5am tomorrow you idiot, we still need a place for the night.”

“Right.” Seungcheol recalled, “I forgot we had to go… that this had to come to an end.”

“Nothing’s ending.” You clarified, putting a rest to his worries. “Didn’t you say, you and I, till the end?”

Seungcheol nodded as you held your hand out to him. He walked over taking it, dropping a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“Say.” And you knew an unholy thought was brewing in that head of his. “We have all this time and there are seven beds here.”

“I don’t care how many there are.” You laughed, pulling him into the softness of the sheets. “I only want one to share with you.”

A/n - this was supposed to be out a few hours ago but tumblr was being a bitch to me. Im adding the tags in the comments! Reblogs with tags, comments and asks are much appreciated, thank you for reading :)

[talaok]

Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…

warnings: jelousy

a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request 

It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...

and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face once... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.

But it still wasn't hate

Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits

And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?

"You're staring"

Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you

"I just don't get why he's here"

You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"

"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,

"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"

Yeah right

He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.

You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen 

he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,

and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.

"I saw him look at you before"

This time, you did let out a little snort

"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"

But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you

"I'm sorry to interrupt-"

Then fucking don't

"I just wanted to introduce myself" 

Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior

"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy

"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"

As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists

This fucking guy-

"Hi pal"

Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off

"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"

The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea

"Oh, I didn't know you were married"

Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room

Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much, 

How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?

It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious

"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"

"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him

"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"

Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye

"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"

Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it

He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement

"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"

Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly

"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"

"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder 

You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place

"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement

"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""

Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head

"listen, man-"

"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"

Shawn let out a loud breath before responding

"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"

"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"

You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time

"that was a bit harsh"

Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist

"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked

Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength

"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck

"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing

[seehisbriefs]

Tyler, with cheeks as red as a ripe tomato, clutched his shirt down in a futile attempt to cover what his missing pants could not—his trusty tighty whities. His friends, Jake and Ethan, stood a few feet away, barely containing their laughter.

Jake: (chuckling) "Oh, Tyler, you really should thank us. We're just helping you air out those classic briefs!"

Tyler: (embarrassed) "This isn't the time for jokes, guys. Seriously, where are my pants?!"

Ethan: "Relax, Ty. They're safe and sound. But you've got to admit, this is pretty funny. Who knew you were still rocking the look of a fifth grader?"

Nearby students began to gather, drawn by the unusual sight. A girl named Emma pointed at Tyler, her giggle cutting through the murmuring crowd.

Emma: "Oh my gosh, Tyler, I had no idea you were such a trendsetter. Tighty whities on campus? Bold move!"

Tyler's face turned an even deeper shade of red, if that were possible. He tried to laugh it off, but his voice cracked under the weight of his embarrassment.

Tyler: "Yeah, haha, trendsetter... that's me. Can I just get my pants back now?"

Jake: "All in good time, buddy. They're just hanging around, enjoying a bit of sunshine. Maybe you should take a stroll by the library. You know, for some light reading and... pants retrieval."

Tyler sighed, resigned to his fate. He knew there was no escaping the watchful eyes and smartphones of his peers.

Ethan: "Don't worry, Ty. At least you're wearing the good old reliable tighty whities. They never go out of style, right?"

With a sheepish nod, Tyler set off toward the library, his friends' laughter echoing behind him. As he walked, the murmurs of the crowd followed, a mix of amusement and sympathy for the young man in his not-so-secret underwear.

[princesssmars]

a few ellie headcanons bc i like her c: sfw.

she is a backpack lesbian. always has a tiny backpack. they are always black or a dark green. will sometimes get a patterned one. maybe has bananas on it. wants to put stickers on basically all of them but won’t because she gets paranoid they’ll get ruined.

i can’t find the post and ong i don’t remember what type of snack girlie i said ellie was but yes. this bitch loves snacks. always snacking. had a four month long addiction to jello it was a little scary.

she can cook for herself! she can make a damn good burger. hates tomato’s because she’s a baby 👎🏽

feel like she likes the weirdest cereals ever…like bae why are you eating kit kat cereal

runs super cold and always has a blanket. lovesss those super thick fluffy blankets that make you wanna fall asleep immediately. begged joel for one of those full body blanket snuggie things and he kept forgetting so she bought a matching dinosaur set with jessie and she loves it.

despite running cold her bedroom fan has not turned off in thirty years.

loves trivia. likes to play are you smarter than a fifth grader because you are NOT gonna catch her fuckin lackin.

likes mixmatched socks. her dryer is always eating half of her pairs so she grows to like it.

calls things pretentious and overrated as a joke bc she is annoying. watching a popular movie? she hates it the author is trying too hard. if she has a letterboxd she is either giving the most in depth review you’ve ever seen or a five star rating with a “cool”.

super nervous at the start of relationship yo show affection but when she’s locked in she is always on you…cuddles all the time. if you’re getting up to do something she is gripping around your waist. it’s cute until you need to go to the bathroom and she is insistent on going with you. once when she was high she told you she’d get a second toilet so you could go together 🫤

playstation girl yawn. she was hyped for elden ring then got her ass beat and didn’t play for a month before randomly deciding to finish it in two weeks.

whoever said she loves spongebob first was right…binges regular show when high. loves breaking bad. will act like she doesn’t like romance shows but if you make her watch the first episode she hasssss to finish it she can’t help ittt… sorry not sorry i’m making her watch bridgerton.

secretly watches those family guy adhd tiktoks

has a habit of watching movies through tiktok

and those space tiktok’s… comparing the gravity of different planets, what’s it’s like to fall through jupiters atmosphere.

likes orcas… watches marine life documentaries and gets emotional.

would know ur birth chart. ever forget ur big three signs? she knows. kind of scary. weird talent. doesn’t believe in astronomy buts knows every basic fact about every sign?? 😭

has two instagrams. her main is for her art and to post pictures with her friends and you. second she posts anything. and i do mean anything. will go from an introspective into idk why hoodwinked is underrated to

loves green it’s literally her color. needs some green in her dorm/apartment. thinks about this ahead of time so when she’s in middle school she starts buying tiny plants to take care of. at the start they’d die in like a week but now she has a dozen and they’re all healthy <3

bunch of posters on her bedroom walls. hates bare walls.

likes to try new hobbies every so often! is lazy about working out but when she does she gets on the treadmill and doesn’t break a sweat no matter how fast. kind of scary.

likes to go on the most random dates. you’ll be sitting on the couch and she’ll show you some random restaurant she saw on like instagram and be like let’s go. right now.

likes when you touch her hair. rest her on top of you while watching a movie and run your fingers through her hair? she’s out like a light. if you want to try different styles on it at home she will let you. doesn’t care if she has stupid looking like stubs everywhere she’s like c:

jesse told her she had a fuck ass bob once and she almost hit him :c

such a bike girl omg. i know she used to put water bottles in the back to make it sound like a motorcycle.

who first came up with that she loves spongebob because you’re so right. tried to act like she’s grown out of it but when she’s high and you’re trying to go to bed she’ll whisper “twenty five” to herself and laugh for five minutes straight.

spider-man girl because she’s cool.

pretends to hate all the dumb nicknames you give her when she does stuff. she makes a pb&j? shes now 'ellie jellie' for the rest of the week. has a stomach ache? now she gets to hear 'ellie bellie' for a month.

links for palestine, sudan, drc

[blood-and-pizza]

Notable Details from the original "Into The Pit" story (PART 1)

Upon the mill's closure, Oswald's dad works part-time at the deli counter in a store called the Snack Space (a 7-11 equivalent, basically), which requires a red vest as their uniform. Oswald is embarrassed by the fact his dad is wearing the vest as he drops him off at school. Just a neat bit of world-building.

Oswald has a best friend named Ben who moved into the next town over.

Oswald's bullies, including Dylan Cooper, call him "Oswald the Ocelot" after a cartoon character they saw as pre-schoolers, a big pink ocelot named Oswald. Again, more world-building.

Oswald is described as having freckles and a cowlick in the original story.

Oswald has no modern electronics in his home, save for one laptop he shares with his family. His phone is an outdated model he's embarrassed by.

Oswald's teacher, Mrs. Meecham, puts on a movie for her class on the last day of school, which is described as "about a farm with talking animals", "too babyish for a roomful of fifth graders". I'm guessing they might have been watching the animated adaptation of Charlotte's Web... or it could be wishful thinking on my part, since I love that movie.

Oswald has been drawing mechanical animals ("bears, bunnies, and birds") for reasons even he doesn't know, other than lack of anything better to do when he's bored.

Oswald's mom works at the hospital from 12PM to 12AM... yikes.

Oswald's dad can't cook to save his life. If it can't be boiled in water or heated in a microwave, he has to buy his meals... how relatable.

Blue-box macaroni and cheese exists in FNAF, meaning Kraft and its products likely exist, too. Just thought that was funny for some reason.

Oswald's dad squirts ketchup into his mac and cheese. I just think knowing he's the kind of dad who does that is really funny... kinda reminds me of my stepdad's love of ketchup, to be honest.

Other pizzerias that once existed in Oswald's town were Gino's Pizza and Marco's Pizza, both of which closed not long after the mill closed. Both Gino's and Marco's are described as good restaurants, while the food at Jeff's Pizza is described as "decent".

Oswald is into B-grade Japanese horror films, including kaiju movies like Zendrelix vs. Mechazendrelix. Zendrelix is apparently FNAF's answer to Godzilla, making Mechazendrelix an equivalent to Mechagodzilla. They're described like this: "... Zendrelix just looked like a giant dragon thing, but Mechazendrelix reminded him [Oswald] of the mechanical animals he drew when he stripped them of their fur." Zendrelix is also described as being portrayed by "a guy in a rubber suit", solidifying the connection between him and Godzilla.

Oswald and his dad both really love bacon. I just thought that was cute.

When Oswald visits the library, a place he finds "actually kinda fun", he shows interest in a science fiction book from a series, as well as a manga he liked. Based, IMHO.

The library Oswald visits frequently allows homeless people to use their computers and other resources. WE NEED LIBRARIES AND THIS IS EXACTLY ONE REASON WHY!

Oswald's mom, being a nurse, is a bit of a germaphobe and won't let Oswald play in places she considers dirty. A ball pit would be considered one such place.

The pizza Jeff serves comes in huge slices too big for the paper plates they're served on, and very greasy. As someone who was born in NYC and used to eat greasy New York pizza... I think I would have liked eating at Jeff's. Maybe.

Oswald reads a library book while visiting Jeff's Pizza, about "a world where kids with secret powers went to a special school to learn how to fight evil". I wonder how many books that describes...

Oswald plays an online fantasy game at the library that's free to play, but Oswald gets to a point where he can't progress without money. I wonder what game it could have been...

Oswald's dad and mom used to date in high school, often frequenting a roller rink, and are great skaters as a result. Oswald himself can't skate and needs his parents to hold him up.

Oswald's dad only ever buys vanilla ice cream.

There's a video rental service Oswald's family uses called Red Box, but I don't know if it's meant to be the same as the actual existing Redbox. Maybe it is?

Oswald's mom is very good at playing Clue... oh, and Clue exists in the FNAF universe.

Oswald's dad prefers practical effects over CGI in movies. Oswald is the exact opposite.

Oswald's dad is a fan of country music. Oswald... is not.

[moonstruckme]

Hello my fave lovely! Could I request a small something about teacher reader and Stevie coming to visit her classroom(maybe he’s a teacher too and they teach upper elementary school 9-10 year olds?)

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting! I decided to make Steve a PE coach instead of a teacher, hope that's alright :)

(slightly terrified some big mouth fandom I don't know about is gonna find this because "Coach Steve," but I'm taking that risk)

coach!Steve x teacher!reader ♡ 573 words

The projector always puts the kids to sleep, but you’re trying to keep them alert enough to retain what an object noun is when there’s a knock at your door. It opens, and Steve’s head pokes through. 

Immediately, your kids are wide awake. 

“Coach H! Coach H!” Their voices are bulldozing over each other, competing for Steve’s attention. “Hi Coach H!”

“Hey guys.” Steve grins at them, unphased by the effects of his celebrity. “Can I borrow Miss Y/N for a sec?”

The kids know well enough that it’s not a question for them, and they look to you as you put down your dry marker, giving them all a stern look. “I’ll be right outside this door,” you warn them. “If I hear any chatter, it better be about grammar.” 

Of course, no sooner do you close the door behind you than a buzz of unapproved chatter starts up in the classroom. You ignore it. Steve’s hands find your shoulders, steering you away from the classroom window and then pressing you against the wall with the force of his kiss. 

“Stevie!” you chide, breaking away and looking around you in alarm. Thankfully, the hallway seems empty. 

“I’ll be right outside this door,” he croons in a girlish imitation of your voice. “You’re so tough with them, babe.” 

“I have to be,” you reply. “They’d walk all over me otherwise.” 

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Otherwise, huh? So that wasn’t you I saw trading lunches with Maggie the other day because she didn’t want her peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

You flush. “I like peanut butter and jelly.” 

Steve grins, kissing your warm cheek. “My sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes at him as if he’s more annoying than endearing (you both know better, but the fun’s in the act). “What’re you doing here?” you ask him, crossing your arms. “You know how you rile them up when you come by. It’s gonna take me forever to get them back on task.” 

“Well first of all, I wanted to see you, didn’t realize that was a crime,” Steve says, grinning when you roll your eyes again, with even less feeling this time. He’s rubbing his hands up and down your arms, and soon he’s worked your hands free and is holding one in each of his. “And also, the second graders are testing today, so they’re not coming to PE. I’ll be free during your lunch.” 

You blink. “They’re having the second graders skip PE for testing? They’re going to be bouncing off the walls.” 

Steve shrugs. “Maybe they’re giving them extra recess after or something. I dunno, they didn’t ask me about it.” He squeezes your hands. “So, lunch.” A suave smile spreads across his face, and you know it’s meant as a joke but your knees go a bit wobbly anyway. “Wanna sit together?”

You bite your lip, but it’s useless; your smile can’t be contained. “Sounds good, handsome. My classroom? Eleven thirty?”

“It’s a date.” Steve leans forward again, and this time you oblige him, the kiss short but sweet enough to rot your teeth. “Okay, I’ve got fifth grade in five,” he says, letting go of your hands and walking backwards down the hallway. “Tell your kids I said to chill out.” 

“That’ll only make it worse,” you reply, laughing. “See you at lunch, Stevie.” 

He grins as he pushes the door open with his back, sunlight flooding the hallway. 

[oneofstarkskids]

so high school (part 2)

part 1

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

genre: fluff

summary: high school au!! if bucky doesn't get tutoring, he's won't be able to play football. despite the looming consequences, he can't seem to focus.

why did it feel like making a deal with bucky barnes was equivalent to making a deal with the devil?

you trusted that boy about as far as you could throw him...and you were fairly sure that you couldn't even lift him if you tried.

yet, here you were. in the library, on a friday during study hall. sitting right across from the brunette boy. "okay, let's start off simple. what is the formula for finding the tangent of this right triangle?" you pointed to the figure on your textbook.

bucky shrugged and tossed a goldfish in the air before catching it with his mouth.

"just guess. if you're wrong, i'll just give you the answer," you tried to encourage him.

bucky sighed, "uh...i don't know."

you could feel your patience thinning by the second, "c'mon, james. focus."

bucky frowned and tilted his head slightly, "why did you call me james?"

"that's your name," you tried to state confidently, even though you were panicking like you'd done something wrong.

"nobody calls me james," he said almost accusingly.

you suddenly felt hot and nervous. you wanted to run out of there, "i'm sorry. i can call you, bucky. i didn't mean-"

but he cuts you off before you can finish, "no...i like it."

now your heart rate spiked for a completely different reason.

you tried to shake it off and get back to work, but it seemed that suddenly you were the one who was distracted. bucky, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to get this over with and leave.

"how about this," you said with a smirk. "we'll play a game. each time you answer a question wrong, you have to throw a goldfish and i'll try to catch it with my mouth. but if you answer correctly, i'll toss the goldfish at you."

bucky arched his brow, "do i look like i would enjoy a game that a fifth grader probably made up?"

you felt a bit embarrassed and didn't really know how to respond to that.

"because i would," he said with a stupid grin.

you hoped he couldn't see the blush that made your face feel so warm. the two of you couldn't stop laughing. it got so bad that the librarian had shushed you several times.

after you went through all the questions, you looked around at the mess you guys had made. you desperately tried not to giggle at the scene before you, but the look bucky had on his face was just taunting.

you slapped a hand over your mouth and he snorted, almost falling out of his chair.

the librarian shot you a glare and you took a deep breath to collect yourself before cleaning up the mess and leaving quickly. bucky trailed closely behind.

"we should do this again," he said with a grin.

you furrowed your brows, "we have to. you thought you were going to be einstein after one study session?"

bucky looked at you funny. but not in an annoyed or irritated way. it was more like...

well you couldn't really tell.

"you're probably right. i got most of the questions wrong," he said, snapping back into reality.

you looked over at him with a sincere look, "james, that's okay. you got through it. and that's progress."

he smiled ever so slightly and the small expression unexpectedly warmed your heart.

maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Vinny/Tony, Fourniers; one-trick pony

For the prompt: Dying for a Vinny/Anton update!

Thomas never had time for hobbies, not really. As a child, maybe, but the first time he volunteered to play goalie in house league he knew that was what he wanted to do.

He doesn't mean in a ‘with his life’ sort of way, though it was that too. More like every time he wasn’t actually on the ice, in the net, he thinking about it, practicing skills for it, working on his reflexes, his flexibility. Doing a hundred jumping jacks a day after a teammate’s older sibling told him it’d make him taller. He kept it up even after his coach told him that wasn’t how height worked, just in case he was wrong. Anything to get better.

It’s not that Thomas slacked on the rest of his life or anything — when he was at school he was at school, and when he was with friends, he was with friends, though he did make Meg shoot on him more than he probably should have, and when he was camping with his dad, he was in the wilderness.

But he never had enough ice time to satisfy him, never had enough teammates putting shots on him, never had enough time one-on-one with the Sudbury Wolves goalie coach that gave him some sessions as a favour because he was his teammate Zack’s uncle. Because Zack told him that Thomas had ‘it’.

And if Thomas didn’t have ‘it’ before those sessions, he did after, that edge that nobody else his age had. Advice on his blocker hand, sure, but more important things: on eating a clean diet. On prioritizing mobility above everything else. On what he could play through, and what he couldn’t, and if he didn’t know, to take that time just to be safe. That his mental toughness was as important as his physical toughness, and then some.

He had teammates who would sneak time during the long drives to games in the surrounding towns, entertained by Game Boys, books, Pokémon cards, but Thomas had a bad case of motion sickness he didn’t manage to shake until he was in Juniors, and spent so much time on a bus it started to feel stranger not being in motion. Besides, he was already thinking about the game ahead.

But lack of practice or not, Thomas probably should not be doing worse than two fifth graders at Pictionary. Right after he was worse than them at Just Dance — ‘Uncle Vinny, you’re supposed to be an athlete’ was said, and his feelings are still a little hurt. Also worse at baking cookies, apparently, though all three efforts tasted pretty good to him.

“Can’t you do anything other than hockey?” Vanessa said, so offhand he knew it wasn’t meant to sting, but, of course, it stung anyway.

Thomas doesn’t know how to explain being so focused on one thing impoverishes everything else, and he definitely doesn’t know how to do it in an age appropriate way. It’s good, he thinks, that they don’t understand — at their age he’d already started cutting away parts of himself that didn’t, couldn’t fit. He couldn’t join any of the after school clubs, or play any other sport above house league level. No sleepovers, except with teammates, because he had practice first thing on weekend mornings. At a certain point it was just hockey. It had to be.

Vanessa and Olivia can be anything they want to be. Maybe not literally — there was a point he remembers Olivia wanted to be a mermaid, and he doesn’t know how achievable that goal is, though he does know if he ever brings it up Olivia will furiously deny that ever happened and then refuse to speak to him for the rest of the day.

But they have Fourns and Chloe as parents, two of the most supportive people Thomas has ever met, and Fourns had a long, successful NHL career, so money isn’t a barrier either. They can try everything, do what they’re good at, what they enjoy, what they love. Which is dancing to Rihanna, baking cookies, and hurting a poor goalie’s feelings.

That night, Thomas brings his batch of cookies home with him, because the girls didn’t want them, and eats three standing right at the kitchen island. They’re perfectly good cookies. He doesn’t know what they’re talking about.

Anton comes downstairs when Thomas is on cookie three, hair damp from the shower.

“Good day?” he asks, then says, “Cookies,” before Thomas can actually answer him, shoving one into his mouth.

“Good cookie,” Anton says, through a mouthful of crumbs, squeezing Thomas’ shoulder on his way to the fridge. He doesn’t even notice Thomas beaming at him, too busy investigating, probably because last time Thomas went to the Fourniers he brought back half a cake and two pizzas. The Fourniers don’t do leftovers.

Thomas doesn’t know if Anton would have even played hockey if he wasn’t Vladimir Petrov’s son. It’s not exactly something that could ever be tested. Anton’s been surrounded by hockey his whole life: he literally sat in the Stanley Cup before he ever got a pair of skates. Hockey wasn’t just an option, it was the option.

Anton loves it, Thomas knows that — he wouldn’t have gotten this far if he didn’t genuinely love hockey. Wouldn’t put up with hearing ‘as the son of the legendary Vladimir Petrov…’ if he didn’t love it, or the teammates he calls immature idiots, like he didn’t get into an elbow-off with Thomas over who got the last pancake just last week.

He definitely wouldn’t put up with the media if he could avoid it, and he likes meeting fans more than he pretends he does, especially when they’re kids, but he likes his privacy more, and nobody gets much of that in Montreal, not if they’re playing for the Habs.

Even Thomas finds it a little overwhelming at times, and he not only gets recognised less than Anton does, he loves meeting fans. It makes it feel real to him, when sometimes the practice-game-flight-repeat lulls him into taking it all for granted. There’s only so much time left before it’s all over, and Thomas doesn’t want to waste it.

He’ll probably need hobbies in retirement. Scratch probably: Thomas gets bored when they go three days between games.

And retirement isn’t that far away, he knows — every contract he’s depending on the Habs still wanting him. The minute they don’t, his choice is going to be retiring or going somewhere else, leaving behind his city, his team. Tony, who’d probably take it pretty personally. And that’s if Thomas could even bring himself to do it. He doesn’t think he could. But without hockey, he doesn’t know where that leaves him. Here, he guesses. Making subpar cookies.

“How were the monsters?” Anton says.

“They said my cookies sucked,” Thomas says.

“What?” Anton says, immediately outraged on Thomas’ behalf. “They’re good cookies!”

“I thought so!” Thomas says.

Anton grabs a second cookie, taking a big bite out of it.

“Good cookie!” he says through another mouthful of crumbs. Thomas doesn’t plaster himself against him right then just because he’s afraid the cookie might choke him. He waits for him to swallow.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Elementary, Chapter Eight:

pairing: pre-outbreak joel miller x sarah’s teacher!reader

rating: E (18+ only, mild mentions of nerves/anxiety, mostly just cutesy summery fluff, alcohol consumption, shower sex, unprotected piv, these two just don’t stop, do they??)

wc: 4.6k

series masterlist | joel masterlist | playlist

— May 27, 2000 —

The auditorium quickly grew stuffy once everyone began filing in, eager to find good seats for the upcoming 5th grade promotion ceremony. The sweltering and humid air from this summer’s first heat wave snuck in, even with the loud, industrial fans attempting to keep the gymnasium cool by blowing it out.

You stood in the even hotter back room of the auditorium with the school’s entire fifth grade class—about 150 tweens running around, excited for the summer to officially begin. Fanning your face with the ceremony program, you relished in the air hitting the bead of sweat that trickled from your scalp down your neck and throat, your eyes nervously scanning the incoming crowd for your favorite fifth grader and her father, the two cutting it short on time.

Tommy had already arrived, taking his seat in the front row beside both of Joel’s parents. You made sure to go over and quickly greet them as soon as you saw them, Mary giving you a tight squeeze while both of the Miller boys simply offered you a smile.

“Where’s Joel and Sarah?” You turned to Tommy, receiving a chuckle and a shrug in response.

“Runnin’ late like always,” he replied in his signature Texas drawl. “Think Joel got a stain on his shirt when we were at Whataburger and had to go home to change.”

“Well, that’s what he gets for not inviting me out with you guys,” you feigned sass with a smirk, knowing that your obligations here at the school prevented you from attending the gathering even if they’d offered.

“Hey, I think they want us to corral the kids in the back,” John, your overly friendly co-worker and fellow fifth-grade teacher, tapped your elbow and stole you from the conversation.

“Alright.” You nodded at him before turning back to Joel’s family. “Well, I’ll see you guys after the ceremony?

“Yep. Oh, and good luck on your speech, sweetie,” Mary called out and you waved at her in response.

Now, the clock was ticking, the ceremony beginning in less than three minutes. You knew you could postpone it a bit if you wanted, maybe get another five or ten minutes of room for Sarah to show, but you remained hopeful that the Millers would show up before you had to stall. Thankfully, just as the clock hit five, Joel and Sarah came jogging in through the back door.

“There you are,” you whispered as they found you, hugging Sarah quickly before ordering her to find her place in the alphabetically ordered line of students. “Yeah, between Michael and Nessa.”

“Sorry,” Joel whispered as you returned to the front of the line again, leaning in to quickly kiss you on the cheek, his hand resting on the small of your back. You hushed his apology and gave his chin a loving pinch. “M’gonna go find a seat, alright?”

“Tommy saved you a chair up front,” you whispered, pointing towards the front row.

Joel flashed you a smile before rushing off into the now-hushed auditorium, Pomp and Circumstance beginning to play through the shitty speakers. After watching him go, you turned around to greet the line leaders with a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

After a confident nod from the kids, you gave the thumbs-up to John who was waiting further into the room. Soon, the kids started their march up the aisles of metal folding chairs to the beat, smiling and waving at their parents hurrying to try to capture a good picture from the audience.

You hurried to the front of the auditorium to guide the kids into their seats, assuring that they didn’t throw off the entire seating plan, and therefore throw off the entire order of the program. While supervising, your eyes found Joel’s in the audience, his smile content as he watched Sarah walk down the aisle in her polyester cap and gown. You’d never get tired of watching Joel love his daughter the way every little girl deserves to be loved by their father—the way you and so many others wished you were.

With all the kids now seated, you stepped up the stairs at the side stage to join the rest of the fifth grade teachers, principle, and superintendent. When you took a seat to allow the student-body president to come up, make the introductory remarks and recite the Pledge of Allegiance, your eyes found Joel’s again, this time finding him already staring at you. Your friendly smile quickly turned into a grin, forcing you to hide behind your program. The Pledge acted as a distraction from his shit-eating grin that you know was still pointed at you.

“Now, we’d like to invite our fifth-grade teachers up to make some remarks directly to their students.” The principle called you up one by one, leaving you for last. Smiling and shaking her hand, you accepted your place at the podium, the bright stage lights blinding you from most of the audience, but Sarah and Joel’s sweet smiles were bright and clear as you looked into the crowd, finding them looking up at you.

Your once smoothly practiced speech was now stuttered, Joel’s eyes fixed on you making you more nervous than the entire audience combined. You stumbled your way through it before blushing back to your seat and shaking your head at him in the audience, clapping for you.

After a round of speeches from the higher ups at the school, the principle began handing out certificates, the rest of you waiting on the side to shake the child’s hand and allow their parent to take a picture. When Sarah’s name was called, you took a deep breath, trying to keep your tears at bay as you watched this little girl that you’d grown to love like a daughter walk up to you with her certificate in hand. Turning towards the audience, Joel stood near the stage with a disposable camera pressed to his eye.

“Say cheese!” he called and you and Sarah obliged, grinning through your tears as you hugged her to your side. “Beautiful!” he complimented, moving to the side stage to help his daughter down the stairs and walk her back to her chair while you went back to work.

After the ceremony had ended and your obligations ended, you hurried out to the courtyard to find the Miller’s gift table. Joel had Sarah tucked into his side in the shade of a willow tree, a balloon tied to her wrist as she talked to Jessie while Joel talked to Jessie’s mother. You walked up to the table fifteen or so feet away to greet his mother and he flashed you a smile, clearly trying to wrap his conversation up so he could talk to you instead. Just as the conversation seemed to die with Jessie’s mother, Jessie’s father came over and started it back up.

“You look so beautiful in this light, sweetheart!” Mary nearly squealed as she turned to look at you, your face illuminated in the golden summer light paired with the shade of the willow tree. “Let me take your picture.”

“Oh, please,” you chuckled, waving off her compliment as a joke, but then she was reaching for the camera, winding it up before clicking a few different shots of you. The clicking of the camera seemed to catch Joel’s attention, his eyes now unabashedly fixed on you rather than the couple yapping his ear off.

“Excuse me,” Joel excused himself from the conversation and let Sarah go run off with Jessie, much to her delight, his eyes and smile fixed on you as you talked to his mother like you were old friends.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a smile, keeping your feelings tamed around his parents. Joel, however, didn’t seem to care. Slipping his arm around your waist, he placed a soft but sweet kiss on your lips.

“Hey,” he greeted back finally.

“We’re at an elementary school, Joel, must you feel up your girlfriend in front of everybody?” Joel’s father, Paul, spoke, effectively scaring you off of any more PDA. Joel gave you a frown and attempted to pull you back into his side, but you shook your head. Joel nodded and allowed you to go off to deliver cards to the rest of your student’s tables while he dealt with his father.

“She’s intimidated by you already, pop, you know that.” Joel scolded his father with a hand perched on his hip, the older man shrugging in indifference.

“That ain’t my fault,” he argued, earning a scoff from his eldest son.

“He’s just extra grumpy ‘cause it’s hot out today,” Mary interjected into the conversation, apologizing on her husband’s behalf.

“Dad, when can we go home for the party?” Sarah came running up to her father, the remnants of a popsicle turning her lips red.

“Whenever you want,” he replied, his eyes scanning the courtyard for you, finding you talking with John, a look of pure discomfort on your face. “Hey, remember how we worked on aim last week?” Joel grabbed the soccer ball beneath his daughter’s feet and held it up, pointing at you and the man clearly bugging you. “Think you got it? Don’t wanna hit the wrong person now.”

“Oh, I got it,” Sarah grinned and lined herself up for the kick, using all the confidence and skill Joel had instilled in her over the years, and went for it.

The ball cut through the courtyard like a bullet, hitting John square in the ass. Joel had to hide his glee over not only his daughter’s amazing shot, but John’s whining. You locked eyes with him from across the yard and gave him a playful head shake before excusing yourself and coming back over.

“You two—“ You pointed at Joel and Sarah, the duo snickering like children when you approached them. “Could have hit me, or somebody else—“

“But I didn’t…because I’m amazing,” Sarah countered, and you couldn’t find it in you to disagree.

“You think that got the message across?” Joel asked, nudging his chin to gesture behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see John pouting and staring back at the two of you.

“I don’t know, he’s persistent.” You turned back to Joel and gave him a smile while Sarah snuck back off to find her best friend. “Why? You jealous, Miller?”

“Very,” he admitted freely, reaching for your hand and using it to pull you against his chest. “Don’t wanna lose you to Matthew McConaughey.”

“You’re not going to lose me to anyone. I’m perfectly happy right here with Joel Miller.” Joel’s smile spread so wide that his dimples made a rare appearance, his eyes crinkling as he leaned in to kiss you. Allowing him a subtle peck, you held him back to prevent him from getting too handsy with you. “How about we leave? Start the real party at your place where I can kiss you freely without my bosses staring at me.”

“Yeah,” he nodded and pulled away from you in a show of strength, walking over to the gift table. Joel ordered Tommy to help carry the gift bags and cards from Sarah’s friends before collecting his daughter. “Alright, ma, we’ll see you at the house?”

“Yep, but we gotta go swing by ours first and pick up the pies I baked,” she drawled back as her and Paul got up to follow you all out to the parking lot.

You bid the Millers goodbye in the parking lot before heading to your car, having driven to the ceremony on your own. You needed to swing by your place anyways, your dress now much too formal for the laid-back pool party ahead of you tonight.

Quickly hurrying inside, you changed into your favorite and most conservative black one-piece swimsuit and a pair of denim shorts. Next, you threw on a new layer of lotion and sunscreen, touched up your makeup, before finally packing your overnight bag in case you decided to stay over at Joel’s place tonight, which you were already sure you were going to do.

By the time you made it over to his place, Joel was greeting his cousins as they arrived before you with their families. You watched him watch you from the sidewalk, a smirk tugging at your lips as he rushed his cousins into the house so that he could greet you quicker.

“Finally,” he playfully scolded as you met him at the door, his arms wrapping around your waist and giving you a squeeze. “You look beautiful.”

“You’re just sweet on me,” you retorted with a grin.

“Damn right.” His lips pressed against yours deeper than earlier tonight, no one around anymore to scold the two of you for being eager. You hummed against his lips as he held you there, swaying you on his front step for all his neighbors to see as they wandered over for the big party.

“Nice to see you in love,” Mrs. Green, a retired teacher and recent widow that lived across the street, came over and beamed at the two of you as she arrived for the party. Joel let you head inside while he greeted the new guests with friendly smiles, mumbling something about the ladies “embarrassin’” him.

Outside, you found his backyard to be full of people both new and familiar, but mostly new. You awkwardly tucked yourself in the corner as you debated going up to some of his cousins to introduce yourself, but worried that perhaps Joel would want to do that himself, or maybe not at all. It had only been two and a half months since you started seeing each other, after all.

“What the hell are you doin’ hidin’ over here?” Tommy found you and laughed, shaking his head at you before pointing across the pool at the coolers. “Go get yourself something to drink and have fun. Us Millers are simple people, it ain’t gonna be hard to win us over.”

You chuckled and followed his advice, weaving your way through the packed backyard to the coolers to grab yourself a beer, the crispness of a good, icy Corona making your mouth water.

“Knew I’d find you by the booze,” Joel wrapped his arms around your waist as you lifted a beer out of the ice. You turned in his arms and held the beer out for him.

“You got a bottle opener?” Joel nodded and reached into his pocket for his keys, quickly popping the cap off before handing your drink back to you. “Tommy sent me over because he saw how nervous I was.”

“Nervous?” he asked, reaching into the cooler for himself. “What are you nervous about?”

“Meeting your family, I guess,” you shrugged, giving him a shy smile. “Want them to like me.”

“Baby,” he chuckled and tilted his head at you, pulling you into his arms. “You’re the most educated person here, you’re the kindest person here, the funniest, the best lookin’…you don’t have to impress anybody. They gotta impress you.”

You placed a hand on his cheek and looked at him with an adoring smile, too in love with him for your own good.

“Come on, you wanna help me with the grill? Keep me company, put some cheese on some patties, hand out some hot dogs?” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and proudly walked you through the party, introducing you along the way to some of his cousins as they whistled at the two of you. “See?” He leaned in to whisper to you as you stood at the grill together. “You’ve got nothin’ to worry about.”

The party went on well into the evening, Sarah still doing cannonballs into the pool with Jessie while you looked on, acting as a lifeguard. Joel was walking the last of his family out, calling cabs and arranging carpools for the drunk ones. You sat curled up on a patio chair, a dopey, content smile on your face as you watched the girls play mermaids together, reminding you of fond childhood memories of summertime.

“All gone,” Joel husked from behind you as he draped his arms over your shoulders, bending down to press a kiss to your cheek and whisper in you ear. “Think it’s time to get the girls in bed so you and I can go for a swim.”

“Yeah?” you turned, looking up at him with a bright smile. “I think that sounds nice.”

“I’ll break the news.” Joel left you to go squat down by the edge of the pool, both of the girls groaning in unison as he told them that it was well past bedtime. “It’s midnight, baby girl. Y’all can swim more tomorrow.”

Sarah finally gave in, though it wasn’t as though she had much of a choice in the matter. As soon as they wrapped themselves in their towels, both girls yawned and grew sluggish, the workout of their all-night swimming finally hitting them.

Joel walked both girls upstairs and stayed inside the house for a while, no doubt waiting for their snores to sound before coming back out to join you as you waded in the warm water. You didn’t mind the wait, choosing to spend your time floating around, your eyes closing to allow you to relish in the peace of the moment, the warm, nighttime summer breeze prickling your skin as it blew against your wet skin.

“Water bug.” Joel’s voice interrupted your floating, your head springing up to watch him as he stepped into the pool, one hand holding two bottles of beer, the other carrying two shot glosses. “Thought we’d take a celebratory shot seein’ as you made it through the last day of school.”

“That is a cause for celebration,” you agreed, accepting the beer and shot glass from his hands. You followed him over to the edge of the pool, both of you setting your beers down before holding up your glasses of silver tequila. “To Sarah being a middle-schooler.”

Joel winced and held his hand over his heart.

“Too soon, I’m not ready to accept it,” he joked. “How ‘bout…to our first summer together. First of many, that is.”

“Oh yeah? I don’t see a ring in my finger,” you teased, wiggling your ring finger at him playfully.

“Oh, I plan on fixin’ that in due time, baby. Don’t you worry.” He grinned, delighting in the fluster his words caused. “Alright, alright. To us.”

“To us.” You clinked your shot glass against his and tipped the liquor back, only gagging a little as you used your beer to wash the medicinal taste down with a shiver. “Ugh, still hate it.”

“Yeah, that used to be a hell of a lot easier.” He shuddered and took another swig of his beer before reaching for you, pulling you close in the warm water. You wrapped your legs around his waist and held his face in both hands, grinning at him like you were the happiest woman alive. “You’re so beautiful, baby. Right now—“ He shook his head and lifted his hand, his fingers tracing the side of your face. “Can’t stop lookin’ at you like this. So beautiful.”

“Are the girls asleep?” you asked, leaning in to hover your lips over his. Joel nodded, squeezing your hips to pull you closer. Planting a soft, teasing kiss to his lips, you spoke again, whispering against him. “You up for a game of Marco/Polo?”

“I…was thinkin’ we were gonna do somethin’ else, but I guess—“

“Trust me,” you purred, kissing him once more before pulling away, making him chase you. “I think you’ll like the way I play.”

“Oh, will I?” he smirked and watched you as you slowly swam away.

“You’re Marco, I’m Polo. Close your eyes.” Joel obeyed your command with his smile still wide, so playful he almost looked like a kid again. Resting his hands over his eyes for extra measure, Joel gave you a nod to signal he was ready.

“Marco!” he called as you slipped carefully towards the steps.

“Polo!” you called back, and he turned to you, his ears well-trained, it seems.

“Marco!” His smile widened, his feet walking him slowly in your direction as you stepped out of the pool as silent as the breeze warming your skin.

“Polo!” you called back, meeker than before as he neared the steps himself. Hurrying with the plan, you peeled off your bathing suit, keeping it in hand for when he called again.

“Marco…” His voice was now low, his feet padding across the patio to find you under the built-in gazebo where his singular lounge bed sat. You let the wet one piece hit the stone below your feet with a wet slap, Joel’s hands falling from his eyes as he opened them, finding you bare to only him and the moon above, the trees in his backyard shielding you from the Adler’s sight.

“Polo,” you finally replied in a purr. “Guess I lost.”

“Guess so,” he rasped, stepping to you until he was pressing his body into yours, his hands gripping at your hips and waist. “Baby, I want to fuck you out here so bad, but I can’t risk the girl’s sneakin’ out for a swim only to find us here…goin’ at it.” You nodded in understanding, resting your hand on his face as you started to feel embarrassed by your too-bold idea. “But that don’t mean I don’t want to collect my prize, darlin’. Get your towel on and get your beautiful ass upstairs.”

“Oh,” you gasped at the hunger in his eyes, not having seen him so worked up over you since the first time you slept together. The sight thrilled you with excitement.

“Go on,” he grinned, charming as ever. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

Your feet propelled you into obedience, hurrying you into the house with your towel wrapped tightly around your frame, Joel’s eyes on you the entire time. You jogged upstairs and got freshened up a bit, showering off the pool water until you felt and smelled a bit more like you. While giving your legs a quick run-over with your razor, you watched the bathroom door click open, Joel’s form in the foggy glass coming into focus more and more as he walked through the steam. He was stripped down to just his smile when he opened the shower door and stepped in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Here to collect your prize?” you asked teasingly. Joel shook his head and placed a lingering kiss onto your shoulder.

“Just here to be with you,” he replied, soft as ever. “And then afterwards—“

“Knew it,” you chuckled, finishing your half-assed shave job before turning him into the stream of the water. Joel hissed at the temperature and turned it down a bit before soothing into it. You squeezed his body wash into your palm before rubbing it onto his chest, the white suds contrasting with his golden skin. “What were you doing downstairs?”

“Put a frozen pizza in the oven ‘cause I didn’t get any food earlier,” he replied softly, his eyes closed shut as you washed his body, your hands eventually wandering to his half-erect cock to stroke him. “Mm, your hands seem to be payin’ an awful lot of attention to that one specific area.”

“Drawn to it like a moth to a flame,” you replied, half-kidding.

“Baby,” he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. “What do you think about…maybe spending the summer over here?”

“You mean like…move in?” Your eyes studied his thoroughly as you froze. With a nervous nod and equally timid smile, Joel nodded.

“Not…permanently, or anythin’. I know it’s soon, but…I just…I don’t wanna be without you this summer,” he confessed, cupping your cheek. “Wanna be able to wake up with you in my bed every mornin’. And, if you get tired of me, you can go back to your place. Just…I just want to soak up all the time I can before school starts back up and work gets crazy for me again.”

“Okay,” you nodded, your smile growing as you threw caution to the wind. Besides, it wasn’t permanent, and you were already staying over most nights anyways. “I’ll pack a bag tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled, half-convinced he hasn’t heard you right.

“Yeah.” You bit your lip and wrapped your fist around his now fully hardened length, giving it a squeeze at the base. “I need you, Joel.”

“Here or in bed?” he asked, leaning in to kiss your neck.

“Here,” you sighed out a moan as his tongue swiped over your pulse. Joel let out a groan against your skin and nodded, wrapping his arms around your waist and turning you to press your back against the wall. “We can do the extra stuff later,” you panted, gripping his cock and lining it up with your entrance. “I just need to feel you right now.”

Joel groaned again and kept his face buried in your neck as his cock sank deep into your heat, your breath hitching as he stretched you open.

“So good,” you whispered into his ear as you kissed his sideburn, Joel’s head nodding against you earnestly as he withdrew himself and sank back inside. “Love you.”

“Love you,” he husked, lifting his head so that he could rest his forehead against yours. Sounding more desperate than before, he whined against your lips and continued fucking into you fast enough to make his heart pound in his chest, “I love you so much, baby.”

Licking his fingertips, he lowered them to your clit, rubbing over the liquor-heightened nerve endings there like he was on a mission. You bit his shoulder to muffle the sob threatening to erupt from your chest, his body working against yours like it was made just to please you. Perhaps it was.

“I’m so fucking close,” you warned, guiding his lips to yours. Joel moaned, his lips vibrating against yours as he kept at it, just adding the slightest bit more pressure. “Joel, fuck…I’m—fuck.”

“G-od,” he choked on his praise as he felt you cum for him, your walls like a vice grip around his already throbbing cock. “Baby…you want me to cum? Cum inside you? Can I?”

“Yes,” you panted, tightening your leg’s grip around his hip as it rested there, pulling him in deeper. Joel’s moans were wanton, giving your own a run for their money as he fucked into you like some sort of primative creature. You held on tightly to his shoulders as he fucked you into the wall, your feet slipping on the floor from the force of his thrusts, but he was quick to scoop you up and pin you against the tile, your knees folded over his forearms. “Holy fucking shit, Joel!”

He had you spread open, his cock drilling deeper than it ever had before in this new, punishing angle.

“That’s so fuckin’ good,” he praised, his words drawling out. “Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna—god damn—gonna make you mine.”

When he came, his groan was so loud, so primal, that you had to place your hand over his mouth to muffle it, though it nearly hurt you to quiet such a pretty sound. His chest heaved, his golden skin turned red from the exertion and heat of the water.

“Fuck,” he panted as he set you down onto your feet and crowded you against the cool wall of the shower once more, kissing your lips soft and sweet. “I know you’re gonna think I’m just sayin’ shit, but…sex has never felt this good, baby. With anyone.”

“No, I know what you mean. Sex before you was always so…iffy. But with you—“ You held his face in your hands and gave him a dopey grin. “It’s always perfect.”

“God,” he exhaled and shook his head at you, matching your smile. “You sure got me wrapped around your finger, don’t ya?”

“That’s okay, you usually have me wrapped around you in a couple different ways.” Joel gasped at your cheekiness befor laughing.

“I think I’m startin’ to wear off on ya.” You giggled and nodded, leaning into his kiss. “Good.”

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[werepuppy-steve]

like june, august was also a rough month. work has been kicking my ass more and more lately, leaving me little to no time to enjoy my hobbies. i've been playing video games more recently to get my brain to relax and unwind more than i've been reading, admittedly. but we're trying our best.

something new this time: a gen rec section where i rec any non stranger things/steddie fics i read for the month!

<- july fic rec • more fic recs • my ao3

you were warm when everything was cold - G, 5.4k, complete @lesbianrobin

tags: lumax, background steddie, established relationship, masculinity crisis, lucas centric

There’s something about watching Steve and Eddie that makes his chest ache, just a little bit. Something that feels like it’s just out of reach, like if he could just jump an inch higher he could grasp it and know what it is, have a name for it, figure out what feels like it’s missing with Max. He never felt like something was missing with Max before. She was perfect. She is perfect! Like, sure, not actually perfect, because nobody’s actually perfect, but she’s perfect for him just like he hopes he’s perfect for her, and they’re perfect together. Maybe Lucas is overcompensating.

Sweet Boy - E, 2/2, complete Ghost_ing_Temptations

tags: dom/sub, puppy play, accidental subspace, good boy steve harrington

Steve is used to it by now, the teasing 'good dog's thrown his way, the occasional 'fetch.' He's not sure when the idea of him as the Party's resident guard dog started, but he's gotten over the swirling feeling in his stomach at those words... pretty much. Regardless, Robin is capable of convincing him of anything. So here he is hosting a Halloween get together dressed in ears, a tail and the real kicker - a collar. What could go wrong?

Horny for Horsepower - E, 2.5k, complete Oralmystery

tags: crackfic, transformers au, masturbation

Steve is a transformer and Eddie is the mechanic in love with him. Dustin accidentally spills soda all over Steve’s backseat and Eddie has to clean it up. In spite of Eddie's best efforts the sticky situation only gets stickier.

future in your hand (signed, sealed, delivered) - T, 10.3k, complete formous_iniquis

tags: no upside down au, penpals, childhood friends to lovers, appalachian eddie, road trips

Dear Eddie, Mrs. Simpson says I’m supposed to thank you for volunteering to be my partner even though you’re a fifth grader. I don’t know why I should though since now I actually have to do this stupid pen pal project. I know she only paired me with an older kid cause she thinks I’m dumb. But thanks for the extra work I guess. Sincerely (cause we aren’t friends), Steve Harrington --- Assigned to be pen pals elementary school, Steve and Eddie find themselves growing closer than they could have imagined as children. Sending letters where they become confidants, friends, and more over the years they write to one another. Nearly a decade after they start an incident sends Steve himself to Eddie. The two leave Hawkins and road trip together to their Happily Ever After.

Burnin' for You - T, 7.1k, complete @soaringornithopter

tags: no upside down au, modern au, t4t steddie, mutual pining, getting together

During a record breaking heatwave, the residents of Hawkins are forced to endure rolling blackouts. Eddie learns he can't handle the unbearable heat and takes steps to try to improve his situation. While on the hunt for work, he repeatedly crosses paths with Steve, who decides to invite Eddie over to take a break from the weather by enjoying the Harrington's pool and reliable central air conditioning. It may take a few visits before they finally get what they both want.

crush notes - T, 4/4, complete @steddiecameraroll

tags: post-s2, secret admirer, getting together

“So, you’re getting love letters?” “Well, I wouldn’t call them love letters, more like crush notes…” Eddie Munson has a secret admirer. He has no idea who it could be, but maybe his new friendship with the one and only Steve Harrington can come in handy.

honeysuckle - E, 2.4k, complete (ao3) @hawkinsbnbg

tags: dom/sub, breeding kink, cock cages, face slapping, daddy kink, good boy steve harrington, overstimulation, prostate milking

Eddie didn't look upset per se. He looked— Amused. Like he knew exactly why Steve acted that way and was more than ready to make it worse.

hidden lace - E, 2.8k, complete (ao3) @steddieas-shegoes

tags: lingerie, secret relationship, car sex, public sex, top eddie, bottom steve

Steve is pissed at Eddie. Like, genuinely pissed. Not that cute, haha my boyfriend was being annoying but I love him, pissed. The kind where if he saw him right now, he’d do something really stupid, like yell or break up with him. And he knew he didn’t actually want to do that.

Bark At The Moon - T, WIP @evillittleguy

tags: pre-series, canon rewrite, werewolf steve, pining

He just wants to go home. He doesn’t even know what home is anymore. He rolls onto his butt and sits in the dirt. Alone in the woods he lets himself cry.  After the worst of it is over and he’s sniffling away the snot and the tears- wiping with his sleeve- he realizes he’s being watched and freezes. In front of him only a few feet away a small honey-brown wolf is poorly hidden in the underbrush.

Coming home to you - E, 1.3k, complete @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

tags: established relationship, post series, fluff and smut, soft dom eddie, sub steve, dry humping

Eddie is halfway through composing an absolutely sick riff when the front door slams shut. The sound rattles the walls of the apartment and sends one of their framed photos askew. Eddie blinks, pulling off his headphones and taking a few moments to get his bearings. It’s starting to turn dark outside and his stomach is rumbling. Shit, for how long was he out?  “Stevie? You home?” he calls, but the apartment stays quiet, bar for the creak of the bedroom door and the thud of a body hitting the mattress. Eddie frowns, setting the guitar aside and padding across the hallway.

don't' want to move on - E, 3.1k, complete (ao3) @steddieas-shegoes

tags: modern au, exes to lovers, frottage

If Steve knows one thing, it’s that Eddie knows how to get under his skin and in his bed. Ever since their breakup, a disaster of epic proportions for the entire friend group, Steve’s kept his distance from every possible interaction with Eddie. He’s made sure to find reasons to miss group outings and put himself on the schedule at work on the nights when he knew Eddie would be at movie nights or dinner. He purposely scheduled pool parties for days and times he knew Eddie would be busy. But he couldn’t get out of this one. And now he has Eddie’s eyes on him from across the room, staring into his soul, reading his mind probably.

Heartache to Heartache - E, 1.7k, complete (ao3) @steddie-island | kintsugi_kid

tags: established relationship, make up sex, top eddie, bottom steve

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Eddie had asked. His hands shook with his anger, his frustration, with the desire to grab this stupid beautiful boy by the shoulders. "What the fuck, Steve?" "I was helping," Steve said, clearly confused. "I just wanted to help—" "No, you were just using Daddy's money to make problems go away again." Steve had winced at that, but then he'd straightened his spine. "Yeah, I used my dad's money. So what? Why does it matter how it got paid for?" or Steve and Eddie have a fight. And then they get to make up about it.

Do it for him - T, 1.5k, complete (ao3) @steddie-island | kintsugi_kid

tags: established relationship, medical trauma, hurt/comfort

"I'm worried about you," Eddie had whispered in bed one morning, when Steve was in that soft space between sleep and wakefulness. "I know your hearing is getting worse, and you need glasses… I know you didn't get looked at after everything, and I get why, but…" He'd kissed Steve's hair, his temple, his cheek. "I can't lose you. Please, Stevie. For me?" That was all it had taken for Steve to finally give in. or Eddie helps Steve face his fears and get himself checked out.

Safe With You - E, 4.8k, complete (ao3) @hotluncheddie

tags: established relationship, daddy kink, under-negotiated kink, hurt/comfort, soft dom eddie, sub steve

‘Tell me something.’ Eddie says between kisses, quiet and deep and Steve feels like there’s whisky in his belly, thrumming through his veins. Drunk on Eddie Munson. ‘Tell me what you like, show me. Let me help baby.’ His hooded eyes pull Steve in, fingers stroking hairs away from his forehead and lips pressing kisses to his cheekbones. Steve doesn’t know how to answer, how to ask for something he wants. ‘No, I. Te-tell me what you like.’ He says, pulling Eddie’s shirt up and off, giving himself a moment away from eye contact, away from the vulnerability Eddie draws out of him. Eddie lets his T-shirt be tossed away, pulling Steve close and swaying them again gently. Slowing the moment once more. ‘Mmm, I like lots of things. Like making pretty boys feel good, for one.’ He ponders, hand soothing up and down Steve’s back. ‘And you, honey, are the prettiest guy I’ve ever seen.’ He smiles, teeth glinting in the soft lamplight. Steve ducks his head as his cheeks flush, smiling, hiding in Eddie’s shoulder. (Or Steve and Eddie try something new, it doesn't quite go to plan, but they talk it through.)

Beautiful Decline - M/E, series, WIP Izzy_Grinch | @troublemakingrebel

tags: assassin's creed valhalla, ceolvarr, rough sex, age difference, secret relationship, good boy ceolbert, falling in love, fix it fic

On a celebration that takes place the night after his father has been crowned a new King of Mercia, Ceolbert feels unwisely bold and seeks Ivarr's company.

Of Dandelions and Nettles - E, 22.3k, complete Izzy_Grinch | @troublemakingrebel

tags: assassin's creed valhalla, ceolvarr, friends to lovers, age difference, first time, ivarr lets ceol-baby get away with so much and everyone is shocked, drunk sex, morning after, flower language

Even when Ceolbert messes up Ivarr's game of Orlog, his plans to pass out drinking and his intentions to wake up alone, Ivarr lets him, as he lets his own hands wander into Ceolbert's hair and down his pliable skin.

Hay Fever - E, 5/5, complete Izzy_Grinch | @troublemakingrebel

tags: assassin's creed valhalla, ceolvarr, age difference, friends to lovers, not so secret relationship, time skips, sexual tension,they fuck in so many stables yall

All it takes is a snap of the last straw. Over the course of five chapters, Ceolbert walks a path from his father's son to a Prince, to an Ealdorman, to a King, each milestone celebrated with Ivarr by his side in the questionable privacy of the local stables.

The Skillful Hunter - M, 5/5, complete hapaxlegomena

tags: assassin's creed valhalla, ceolvarr + ubba, age difference, impotence

Ivarr and Ceolbert pass a year together. Hunting, learning the art of war, and other things a man has to know.

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: when i first saw you

Super Sons Week Day 1 - Prom/School | Sleepovers | Childhood friends | First Love

“Mr. Wayne, our first question for you today, and a wildly requested one, how did you two meet?”

The interviewer held the cards in her lap, smiling at the two men in front of her. Jon leaned back, nostalgia washing over him and looked at Damian, who shared a similar expression.

“Well, I think I’d better start off then! I was about six, and Damian was as well…”

***

Jon tugged at the collar of the suit his mother had wrestled him into. He was six and today would mark the first time he went to a gala for his parents’ job. Typically Connor would watch him or Kara, but Kara was off-planet and Connor would be attending the gala himself.

The suit was uncomfortable, and it had taken a good amount of time to get him into it, barely avoiding accidentally singeing it with his newly developed powers.

The only thing keeping him from this was the manners drilled into him and the promise his father had given him of there being children for him to interact with.

“Dad, won’t I be bored? I don’t wanna go to the party, it doesn’t sound fun.” Jon huffed, legs swinging as he sat on the barstool next to the kitchen island. “Mom said I have to mind my manners and be quiet and keep my glasses the whole time.” 

“Well, you might be a little bored.” his father admitted. “I’ll tell you a secret, Jonno, not even I enjoy these things much.”

Jon huffed, crossing his arms in a way that was pure Lois Lane. Before he could retort, his father continued speaking. “My friend has a boy, just about your age. He’ll be there, and you can keep him company, maybe try and make friends?”

“...Okay.” He agreed. “I’ll try, I guess.”

He didn’t really think any of the older people here enjoyed Cheese Vikings or baseball. They seemed much too prim to interact with animals on the farm, but not stuffy enough to leave his poor cheeks alone.

Jon really hoped the kid of his Dad’s friend wasn’t as…stiff as the rest of them. At least he wouldn’t run the risk of having his hair ruffled harshly and other such factors with someone of his age.

His mother had gone off to corner some socialite who was most certainly going to be exposed as an accomplice in whatever she was writing, and his father was in front of him, scribbling something as he spoke with someone. 

“Jonnor!” A voice called out, just as he was about to tug on his father’s jacket. His head whipped around and a grin took over his face.

“Konathan!” He responded, making sure to keep his feet on the ground as he ran into his brother, who lifted him up.

“How’re you liking your first gala, squirt?” Connor held him easily on his hip, throwing a salute at Clark and walking back towards wherever he’d come from.

Jon beckoned him forwards, whispering with a glance around, ”It’s kinda boring. And all the old ladies pinch my cheeks.”

Kon laughed, nodding. “Oh yeah, that’s a big downside. C’mon, you’ll have more fun with my friends.”

A teenage boy with a phone in one hand and the other loosening his tie came to them. “Hey, Kon. Oh, is this Jon?”

“Yeah. Jon, this is Tim, Tim, Jon.” Jon waved from where he was perched in Kon’s arms, fighting a protest as he was set down.

He looked around, spotting a child hanging onto Tim’s jacket with on fist. He was scowling, and his eyes were a startling green color. 

Kon and Tim had seemingly forgotten him and paid no attention to the other child there. Jon kept his hold on his older brother’s sleeve, curiously taking a step forwards.

“Hello.”

The child in front of him looked confused, then back to scowl. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Jon, what’s yours?”

“Tch…” He eyed him with such judgment that Jon felt as if he was back in school, cornered by a fifth grader. “Damian Wayne.”

“Nice to meet you, Damian.” Jon beamed at him and Damian looked surprised for a quick moment. “Is Tim your brother?”

“I…I suppose so.” He shuffled a bit, looking around. Jon took his silence for discomfort and waited to see if Damian would keep speaking. He messed around with his suit until he heard a voice whisper in his direction. “They’re dreadfully uncomfortable.” Jon looked up, Damian’s skin darkening with a flush. “I meant the suits.”

“They totally are!” Jon gestured, pleased with the turn of events. Maybe this would be fun after all. “Mom made me wear it and said I couldn't do anything about it, but it's so tight and itchy!”

Damian nodded quickly, “and these people, they keep touching me and it hurts, i don’t see why we have to be here.”

“Me too! This isn’t any fun.” Jon grumbled, before brightening. “My dad said he wanted to introduce me to his friend's kid, but do you want to play with me for now?”

The other boy seemed to contemplate this for a minute, before nodding. “I suppose it would be better than this.” Jon dropped Kon’s hand and grabbed Damian’s free one, hands swinging between them. “Hey, Kon, me ‘n Dami are gonna go play, okayIloveyoubye-”

He barely heard the response before Damian pulled them away, ducking under trays and weaving through people. They took turns grabbing desserts from the different places around and hiding under tables to eat them, giggling to themselves.

“That was fun,” Jon laughed, breathless. Damian hid his laughter behind a small hand, agreeing with him happily.

“I wish you could come to all of the events, it’d be so much more fun,” he admitted, taking a delicate bite of some pastry with chocolate whip.

“Maybe I will! And you can come to the farm sometime, if you ask your Dad, you can see all the animals!”

“Farm animals?” Jon swore stars appeared in Damian's emerald eyes, if just for a moment. “Do you have cows? And Horses and sheep and cats?” “Well, Ma and Pa don’t have any horses, but they do have a cow, and Krypto’s usually there. Do you like dogs?” “I have a dog! His name is Titus and he’s my best friend.”

Jon nodded in understanding. “Dogs make good best friends. Do you have any pictures?” Damian wiped his face with his sleeve. “Timothy likes photography. He’s definitely got some pictures on his phone. We could go get it?”

“Sounds good!”

They emerged from under the empty table, searching for Jon’s brother and his friend. Someone called out to them and made them stop, Jon turning as he heard his name called.

“Jon! There you are.” Clark came up to them with a man around his height, black hair and suit on. “This is Bruce…oh. I see you’ve already met Damian.”

“Hi, Mr. Wayne!” Jon chirped, still hanging onto Damian’s. “Can Damian come to the farm sometime?”

Damian’s father looked surprised, to say the least, features softening out and putting on a smile. “We’ll see, chum. Having fun with Jon, Damian?”

“He is nearly as good of company as Titus.” 

Jon beamed, Clark looked confused and Bruce only chuckled and ruffled their hair. “Well, that’s certainly a compliment.”

“We’re going home in a few minutes, so say your goodbyes, boys.” Clark informed them.

“Aw.” Jon pouted. “Okay. Bye Dami.”

He let his father take his hand, waving. Damian scowled at this, clinging to his father’s suit jacket. 

“Well, aren’t you going to say goodbye, Damian?” Bruce placed his hand on his son’s back, urging him forwards a bit.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” he said, looking down. “When I say goodbye, people don’t come back.” 

Bruce sighed, something akin to sympathy on his face. “You’ll see Jon again, I promise. And we can try and call Talia before bed, wouldn’t you like that?” Damian’s bottom lip wobbled and he hid it with an expression of anger. Jon watched this and decided promptly that he never wanted to see the expression on his face ever again.

“We don’t have to say goodbye!” he pulled out of Clark’s grasp and stood in front of him. “We can say see you later, so that it’s not a goodbye, and it’s almost a code!”

“Code?”

“Yeah! I’ll say see you later, alligator,  and you say in a while, crocodile. It rhymes, see? And it’s not a goodbye so that you know you’ll see me again.” “Okay.” Damian agreed, smiling at him.

“See you later, alligator!” Jon called, waving as he left.

“In a while, crocodile.” Damian waved back, feeling light and airy.

***

“And that was that.” Jon finished, squeezing Damian’s hand gently. Obviously he’d omitted certain parts of the story for their PR team’s sake, but some part of him felt like he’d walked back into the past with just a few words of retelling.

“Well, it was a little more complicated than ‘that was that’, but we had what one of my brothers would call a very ‘trope-y’ first meet and relationship.” Damian snorted. “Nonetheless, the outcome was the same.”

“How sweet!” the interviewer squealed. “Now onto our next question…”

@super-sons-week

[momos-servants]

Zukka modern Day AU except they’re DILFS

It was "Bring Your Parent to School" day, and Zuko found himself dreading it. Not because of his daughter, Izumi, of course, but because he couldn't bear the judgmental glances from other parents and children. Yet, Izumi's pleading puppy eyes persuaded him to attend, so now he faced the daunting task of explaining a legal case to a group of fifth graders. Being a lawyer loses its spark with the kids when they realized he spends most of his day with his head in the books.

Zuko's day began to brighten when he noticed a father and his ecstatic son touring the classroom. He observed how the younger father eagerly listened to his son and gently reminded him to use his indoor voice. Comparing his own suit to the father's casual attire—a light sweater vest with a collar—Zuko realized he should have opted for a simpler outfit that day.

Zuko wondered about the other man's occupation. Maybe he was a business owner, a baker, or perhaps a stay-at-home father! Zuko could see that, definitely. Clueless about what to expect, he was in for a surprising revelation.

The cute man turned out to be a mechanical engineer, bringing an array of gadgets and tools for the kids to explore. Instantly, all the children, including Zuko's daughter Izumi, were drawn to him. Zuko couldn't shake a hint of jealousy as Sokka effortlessly stole the spotlight. Zuko stayed up late last night crafting an entire mock trial and fake props & costumes for the kids!

It’s too bad that the jealousy didn’t last long, because Sokka found him afterwards and rambled to him about how much he enjoyed the mock trail. Of course Sokka also has a passion in law. Of course he could ramble on and on about Zuko’s work. And of course Zuko accept to meet up for coffee later.

[ultrameirine]

MONSTER ‘怪物’ (2023)

dir. Hirokazu Kore-eda

MINATO APOLOGIZING SHYLY AND YORI COPYING HIS GESTURE AFTERWARDS!! they are so dear to me, i love to see them both navigate through life. it absolutely ruins me how even as a fifth grader, they both know how different they are and that different means bad and how they're both doomed to be unhappy.

to be a monster is to live on the margin, putting hopes for their future (literally) hidden as a message to be decoded. wishing someone could find it. maybe as a sign that they're both here! they exist!! together!

despite the open ending (and my pessimistic first impression towards it), i'd love to think that they're safe and happy in the end.

let the world be kinder to you too.

[spartanguard]

when Emma falls in love [from the vault]

Summary: When Emma falls in love, I know that boy will never be the same | When she came to Storybrooke, finding love was the farthest thing from Emma's mind. Until she started to get to know Ian, the bartender down at the Rabbit Hole. A crush is the last thing she needs—not when she's in the middle of a murder investigation and her son keeps talking about curses. Or maybe it's exactly what both of them need. [Inspired by "When Emma Falls In Love" by Taylor Swift] A/N: This is the next in my series of fics inspired by Taylor Swift's vault tracks (mostly from Speak Now (Taylor's Version), but there will be more!). Wanted to post this before we all died from TTPD tomorrow ;) I think this is also my favorite of the ones I've written so far; hope you like it, too! And, as always, thank you to @optomisticgirl for being the best beta ever. rated T | 6.2k words | AO3

When the door swung open, Emma was half expecting it to be someone from downstairs yelling at her to stop her pacing; too many years living in crappy apartments had done that to her. But it was just Mary Margaret, coming home from work.

That said— “Uh, you okay? If you pace any harder, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor,” her roommate remarked.

“Ugh, sorry,” Emma answered, taking a seat at one of the barstools at the counter. “It was that or attacking the toaster again.”

“You didn’t get fired again, did you?” Mary Margaret asked as she set a bag of groceries on the counter. “‘Cause last I checked, you were your own boss.”

Emma scoffed. “No; just…other stuff.” She swallowed. “Boy stuff?” (She wasn’t sure why she said it like it was a question, other than the fact that she’d never been one to talk about relationships or anything—never had anyone she could talk to about that, so she wasn’t sure if this was the right way to start.)

“Well, that’s convenient,” Mary Margaret said, and reached into the paper sack. “I bought wine,” she finished, pulling out a cheap screw-top bottle of rosé.

“Might need more than that.”

“Good thing I got two,” she answered, producing another.

They curled up at opposite ends of the couch, not even bothering with wine glasses. After a few (hefty) sips, Mary Margaret looked at her pointedly and Emma was suddenly very aware of why her students respected her so much. “Okay. Spill.”

Emma sighed, but obliged. “Okay, you know the bartender down at the Rabbit Hole?”

“Not well, but I know who he is. Ian, right?”

“Yeah, Ian Johnson. He, uh…I mean, I…” She hummed. “I think I like him.”

“Oh my god, you sound like one of my fifth graders,” Mary Margaret replied. “You’re attracted to him? Or maybe a little more?”

Emma took another pull from her bottle. “Maybe a lot more.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

(His ass was fantastic, but that was beside the point.) “But…you know how I am. My history. It hasn’t really been that long since Graham…” She still had a hard time saying died.

“I know,” Mary Margaret said softly. “No one says you have to rush into anything. But if you’re feeling something, it doesn’t hurt to pursue it. Especially if he seems to reciprocate.”

Well, that was her other conundrum, wasn’t it: did he? Much like her, he wasn’t really prone to showing emotion—not noticeably, at least; he wore an air of apathy as well as he did his dark-wash jeans. In fact, she didn’t give him much thought after she first met him—when she’d been called to the bar to drag Leroy to the drunk tank on one of her first overnight shifts as a deputy. 

She’d definitely seen him, though; Ian was certainly easy on the eyes—perfectly disheveled hair above light blue eyes, just the right amount of gingery stubble, and a hint of chest hair visible through the open vee of his appropriately tight henley—but her thoughts towards him didn’t go deeper than the surface. She also hadn’t missed the quick once-over he gave her, though she couldn’t tell if it was in appreciation or merely assessment.

It wasn’t until her following visit (Leroy’s next trip to the station’s overnight accommodations) that he did more than hum at her, but there was very little effort in the casual pickup line he threw at her (and she did her damnedest to ignore the lilt of his foreign accent).

She knew his kind—or so she thought: the type of asshole who hid behind a pretty face and a quick come-on and that was all it took to get into a girl’s pants. Frankly, that was something she’d fallen for a few too many times, but not here—not in Storybrooke. Not when Regina was constantly looking for a reason to send her out of town (even if she won that sheriff election fair and square, Gold’s involvement notwithstanding) or limit her time with Henry.

It wasn’t until the first time she got a call at the bar after Graham died that she exchanged more than passing pleasantries with him. Ian wasn’t the first to express his condolences, but he was the first to say, “It’s just not fair.” That was exactly how she felt, too. And that’s when things started to shift between them.

(Apparently, he and Graham went way back—he didn’t specify how far, but it sounded like a while, the kind of vague forever that seemed prevalent in such a small town. Graham had helped him out of a few scrapes, and vice versa. “He was a good man,” Ian had concluded. “Seems those always go too soon.” It felt like there was more to go with that statement, but then “Only the Good Die Young” had come on the jukebox and it was a little too on the nose and she had to get out of there.)

But it really took a turn the night he intervened while she was breaking up a bar fight, getting in the way of a drunken punch meant for her and taking it in the cheek instead. (That was also the night she finally noticed his left arm ended not in a hand, but a prosthesis, as she made the assailant wait in the squad car while she put together an ice pack for Ian’s face; she also found out that night that he mixed a mean whiskey sour.)

So they were…she wasn’t sure if they could really say “friends” after that—not quite a team, either; allies, maybe? Whatever it was, it was definitely something she needed. 

She started to run into him at Granny’s after that. The first time, she was getting her morning coffee before heading into the station; he was getting some tea before heading home after closing the bar. Then they’d see each other at lunch hour; if the diner was full, they shared a booth. But then that became something of a habit, too, on the days he didn’t close and she didn’t work overnight (though they eventually started another of sharing a drink at the end of their late-night shifts).

Admittedly, it was a little awkward at first; Emma had never been great at the whole small-talk thing (and even worse at the making-friends thing)—but on the bright side, so was he. She found out little things, like when a favorite song would come on (“Behind Blue Eyes” was up there, unsurprisingly/heartbreakingly), or when she’d ask for a liquor recommendation (rum—always rum). She let slip at one point how much she enjoyed Motown, and he quickly picked up on her hot chocolate order.

More solid information came to light later; as she’d guessed, he was a loner, too—no family left, and had drifted around England and the US until he ended up in Storybrooke, somehow. He made an appreciative comment about her being a fellow jailbird over a beat-up copy of that awful article in the Mirror, but his face fell when she mentioned how old she’d been—a rare emotional moment for him. (But not as intense as when she’d commented on the tattoo on his forearm late one night, and the unmistakable look of loss took over; all they could do at that point was make a toast to living through heartbreak.)

It was…she didn’t want to say easy, but it was nice—there were no expectations, no responsibilities. Just the pleasure of each other’s company, and a sense of kindred comraderie. 

She was also aware, but ignoring the fact, that the less she knew, the better. There was less chance that he was lying to her or holding something back; less chance for him to get disappointed in who she was. (Less chance to be hurt.) 

“He does, right?” Mary Margaret’s question dragged her back to the present. 

Which brought Emma to the downside of being attracted to someone whose walls abutted hers: it was hard to get a read on what was going on in his head, especially when he wasn’t outwardly expressive (more than when they first met, but it was still rare). All she could do was shrug at her roommate and take another pull of wine. 

“Yeah, he’s always come off as kind of aloof,” Mary Margaret agreed. “Not altogether unfeeling—more like, not a lot?”

Emma was the last person to make any comments there. What was it she’d said to Graham? “Not feeling anything is an attractive option when what you're feeling sucks.” They both had reason enough for that. 

“But it looks like you’ve gotten closer to him than anyone in a while,” her roommate went on, “and vice versa?”

“More or less,” Emma conceded. “Present company notwithstanding.”

“I’m honored. And you know what I say about hope,” she answered. 

Emma did, but wasn’t sure she was ready to say she was that far in. She extended the end of her bottle to Mary Margaret, who clinked her own against it in solidarity. 

By the end of the night, she had no further clarity on the situation and the beginnings of a hangover. Maybe she was overthinking it—or maybe it wasn’t even worth overthinking; it’s not like these things ever worked out in her favor anyway.

But…she did keep thinking about hope. 

———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———

Her friends eventually dragged her out to the Rabbit Hole for a girls’ night. They’d cited the fact that she missed all the excitement on Valentine’s Day, with Ashley’s engagement, so she needed to make up for it. 

Despite still being new to the whole having-female-friends thing (having any friends, really), she had fun. Ian poured the drinks strong and sent more than a few small, sideways grins her way as he watched her dance with the others. She was hoping her subsequent blush could be blamed on exertion or alcohol, except—

“Oh my god,” Ruby yelled at her as they returned to their booth for a refreshment. “Just go screw him already.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve been eye-fucking the bartender all night! Go do something about it!”

Well, now her cheeks surely matched her bright red dress—and, to make it worse (or better, Ruby would probably say), when she glanced over at Ian a moment later to see if he’d heard, he was smirking and raised an eyebrow as soon as she caught his eye.

(They hadn’t crossed that line yet but—it had been close. She’d been all too aware of the proximity of their lips when she was helping him shut down last week and they’d collided in the back hall—her hands on his firm chest, his coming to her waist, the dart of her eyes to his mouth—she’d basically sprinted out of there.)

There was definitely an itch to scratch, but she wasn’t about to go there with him. Because she knew, with him, it would be so much more than that. (And if he didn’t reciprocate…that would be even worse.)

“So I hear you’ve been hanging out with the bartender,” Regina asked her one day after she dropped Henry off at the mayor’s house.

Emma shrugged. “I guess,” she answered, downplaying whatever it was they had—if only because she had a feeling Regina would find a way to weaponize it. 

(Also, he was good with Henry—like, really good, maybe even better than she was. For someone who didn’t appear to care much about…anything, he always seemed to brighten and engage so much more around her kid whenever they ran into him at Granny’s. He even indulged Henry’s theories about the “curse”, but her son hadn’t decided who Ian was in this supposed other life. Emma didn’t have any ideas, either, if only because that meant Ian was the one person safe from Henry’s childlike scrutiny.)

“Even with everything he’s done?”

That got her attention. “What has he done?”

“More like what hasn’t he done; you’re the sheriff—you could look up his rap sheet. He’s got some blood on those hands—well, hand. Has he even mentioned how that happened?”

“No,” Emma said stiffly. “He hasn’t.”

“I don’t suppose he’s mentioned anything about his ex either, then. Who was married.”

“Uh, no.”

“Well, maybe you should look into it—so you can be aware of just who you’re allowing around my son.”

The mayor pointedly closed the door at that, leaving Emma alone with her thoughts—never a good combination. She was mulling it over on the drive to the station—how much did she actually believe what Regina was saying? 

But her curiosity was too piqued to let it rest. She felt like the biggest asshole, but after she got settled for the start of her shift, she ended up in the records room, particularly in front of the drawer labeled H–J.

As much as she didn’t want to—she had to know. She slid the drawer open and dug through the folders, until she found the one near the back labeled Johnson, Ian Brennan.

It was thick.  His ‘jailbird’ comment from a while back returned to her; she thought he’d been joking at the time.

She didn’t look inside until she was in her office, with the door shut—not that she expected any visitors, least of all him (he was working anyways), but she still felt like she was doing something wrong, even if she had perfectly legal access to these files.

She took a deep breath and flipped it open.

Ian was glaring at her from the photo paper-clipped to the stack of forms—a bit younger, a bit angrier than the man she knew, with a fire in those blue eyes she’d never seen, even from behind a layer of guyliner and shaggy bangs. 

Beneath it, typed out, it listed his name, birthdate (although the year was smudged beyond recognition), that he was born in England, and a charge for drunk driving.

The next sheet: illegal possession of a firearm.

The next several that followed included a handful of drug-related charges, mostly involving the transporting of them.

The last page said manslaughter.

She slammed the folder shut and threw it in the empty bottom drawer of her desk.

In vain, she tried to pretend she hadn’t seen it. Maybe someone planted it there? She wouldn’t put it past Regina, though as to why, she couldn’t guess. The comments about an affair, though—she’d done the whole dating-a-married-guy thing; it hadn’t ended well, but it still wasn’t something she was keen on.

For the next week or so, she managed to avoid him—took all her Granny’s orders to go; sent Ruby to deal with anything at the bar; and one time, ran down an alley when she saw him coming the opposite way down the sidewalk. (She didn’t say she was mature about it…or subtle.)

When she got home later that week, there were two bottles of rosé on the counter again. “My turn,” Mary Margaret said, handing one over.

Was infidelity just a thing here? Because now her roommate was dealing with it, too. Emma’s opinion of David wasn’t the highest at the moment—he couldn’t string her best friend along and stay with his wife—but the longer Mary Margaret pursued this, the more heartache it was gonna cause.

“Thanks for talking to me about it,” she said, halfway through the bottle. “What about you? How are things with Ian?”

Emma took a long, long drink. 

“Gotcha,” Mary Margaret said knowingly.

———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———

It came to a head when she was in the station one morning, having arrived to her shift early in order to avoid seeing him at the diner. She was dealing with some paperwork when she heard the front door open. “In here,” she called out, assuming it was Regina telling her off for something she hadn’t done right. Footsteps approached. “What would you like to yell at me about today, Madam Mayor?” she asked sarcastically.

“I hadn’t planned on yelling, but I did want to ask why you’ve been avoiding me.”

Oh shit. Ian was there in the doorway, a coffee cup and bag from Granny’s in his hand, and a serious set in his stare.

“I haven’t,” she lied, then turned back to the computer screen (not that it was doing anything—it still ran Windows 98, after all). “I’ve just been busy.”

“See, I’m actually quite perceptive,” he replied, then stepped forward to set the foodstuffs on the corner of her desk. “And this? This is avoiding.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Yeah,” she had to admit. They’d always been honest with each other, even if they’d clearly withheld some things. And given how poorly her attempted lie a moment ago went, it would be dumb to try to again.

“What is it, love? Did I do something wrong?”

She opened her eyes to look up at him, and regretted it—he looked genuinely hurt. What she was about to do probably wouldn’t help.

Staying seated, she bent down to open the bottom drawer on her desk, and then pulled out his file. Then she carefully set it in front of her.

He immediately recognized it, she could tell. “Ah.”

“I’m sorry; I was talking to Regina and she said some things and—curiosity got the best of me.”

“I see.”

She couldn’t tell if he was angry or hurt—or both—but either way, she felt like an ass. May as well throw fuel on the fire. “She mentioned something about your ex, too—specifically, her marital status.”

“She did, did she?” His words were suddenly emotionless.

“Is…is that all you’re gonna say?” she eventually asked quietly.

He blinked slowly, as when he opened his eyes, they were just a bit duller—a bit more reserved. (That was worse than anything else she’d seen recently.)

“What else needs to be said, Swan?” he shrugged. “You apparently have all you need to know right there, between that and whatever the mayor has told you.”

His gaze settled somewhere near the floor and silence stretched uncomfortably between them. Even louder to her, though, was the fact he was just…accepting it. 

“Seriously?” she snapped. “You’re not gonna defend yourself, or fight back at whatever is incorrect in my assumptions?”

He furrowed his brow. “What good would it do?”

“Show me you give a crap!” she shouted, standing so fast it sent her rolling chair sliding into the wall. “Because I’m trying to figure out whatever the hell this is,” she went on, gesturing between them, “but I can’t tell if you actually care or not.”

Finally, something steely settled in his gaze. 

“Not feeling anything is an attractive option when what you’re feeling sucks,” he stated, plainly but pointedly. 

She swallowed at the recitation of what she once had said to Graham. She already knew she wasn’t the first sheriff to strike up a friendship with him, but she was probably the only one Ian had thrown their own words back at. 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it go away,” she countered. 

“If you do it long enough, it does.”

“And then what? You just never feel anything for the rest of your life?” God, Mary Margaret was really rubbing off on her—though that didn’t mean her calling him out wasn’t a little hypocritical. 

“It had been working well for me.”

“Fine then,” she spat. “You can go back to your lonely existence and I’ll fuck off to mine and we’ll just leave it at that.” She crossed her arms and curled in on herself; she was definitely pouting, but the alternative was flopping back in her seat and crying. 

His face relaxed, almost going the other way into a frown. “Bloody hell, that’s not what—no, love, I—I just thought you knew me better than that,” he admitted, almost apologetically. 

“Well, apparently I don’t,” she parroted back. “I’m wondering if I know anything about you. This is some serious shit, Ian.”

“And I thought you of all people might understand that,” he said matter-of-factly. “I remember the headlines after you arrived in town; just because you have a badge now doesn’t mean you’ve always been on the right side of the law, either.”

“I’m not pretending I didn’t!”

“Neither am I. I just don’t go broadcasting it, given that I still have the option not to.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be telling people I killed someone either.”

“I—” He started to talk, but then closed his mouth and clenched his jaw. After taking a deep breath, he said, “Not that I really need to, but can I tell you the full story? Before you completely write me off?”

She nodded, but held back what she was really thinking: that she didn’t want him to write himself off. 

“I did get into some bad shit,” he started. “My brother was gone, my ex had just died, and I was suddenly an amputee, so I was alone and spiraling. Fell in with the wrong crowd—classic story. Got in deep with a drug ring, and then I got caught. Killed a member of a warring cartel in the process. But, by some miracle, I had a great lawyer. They got a few of the charges thrown out for lack of evidence and I reached a plea deal on the others, along with a heavily reduced sentence for my cooperation in taking down much of the rest of the ring. Did my time, now I’m here. And I regret it every day.”

“Damn.” That was heavier than expected. 

“Aye.” He scratched nervously behind his ear. “Anything else?”

She chewed her bottom lip; she was nervous to ask, but she had to. “So, your ex…”

“My ex was married when we met. But it wasn’t a happy marriage. And I didn’t lure her away, or whatever may have been said—she ran off with me. But I loved her, so I went with it. Until her husband found us and went mad. Tried to cut off my hand; stabbed her. Doctors had to take it the rest of the way off,” he explained, raising his prosthesis. “Add that to the list of reasons why I fell in with the wrong people.” 

Fuck. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

“Indeed.” He toyed with the fingers on his false hand for a moment, and then looked back up at her. “But Swan, why couldn’t you just ask me that? Rather than take the word of a woman who we’ve all seen lie to you—to everyone—before.”

She swallowed. “Because I couldn’t take the chance I was wrong about you.”

“Were you?” 

It took her by surprise. “Was I what?”

“Were you wrong about me?” He was staring back at her intently, like he hadn’t just asked a simple but potentially earth-shattering question—but also looked like he was bracing for impact.

She nearly stopped breathing. Not that she had planned any part of this conversation, but when she imagined talking to him again, she thought it’d be more about her figuring out whether he’d let her inside his walls. Logically, it was only fair that he did the same; it was just the first time anyone had followed her in—not to mention challenged her once they were there. (Especially not someone with intense blue eyes, bolder than she’d yet seen them.) And she didn’t know how to respond.

“Because I know I’m not the biggest catch or anything—I’m certainly not Graham—” he went on (and apparently knew where to sting her), “and yeah, I probably still drink a bit more rum than is advised, but other than this—” he nodded at the folder, “—I’ve been nothing but honest with you. So now it’s up to you to decide: whatever it is you’re worried about—were you wrong?”

It had been a long-ass time since anyone had been that bluntly honest with her. (And never someone she was interested in.)

He was right—her lie detector had never gone off with him, either. (It also hadn’t when Regina was gossiping, but it was a little less accurate with noticing exaggerations or omissions.) 

He’d never really answered her earlier question, though. “I just need to know one thing,” she said as she stepped around the desk. “I’m not alone in feeling…this, right?” she asked, blatantly stepping into his space. 

“No,” he confirmed on a breath.

“Then no, I wasn’t wrong. I think what I was actually scared of…was that I was right.”

“Right?”

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and quickly found his lips, kissing away any further confusion. (As she was finding out, they were both a bit better at nonverbal communication.)

(And he did taste a bit like rum, but—she liked it.)

———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———

She wanted to say things changed from there—they took it fast, or slow, or whatever—but in reality, their relationship really didn’t change. There were still the meals at Granny’s, the nights at the bar. She’d never really been a date-night kind of girl. But emotionally—woah. 

It was like she was seeing a whole other side of Ian—but at the same time, it felt like it had always been there, just hiding below the surface. It wasn’t a universal thing—he was still a bit reserved while at work, or around just about anyone other than her and Henry—which made what they had feel all the more special.

There were also more than a few makeout sessions sprinkled in there, too. (Being chased out of the back hall of Granny’s by said proprietress, giggling like teenagers, was one of her more cherished memories since arriving here.)

For a short while, it was simple and sweet and it made her happy. For a little bit, she maybe had the kind of life she’d always hoped—with her son, friends, and a guy she really liked.

But it was like the universe noticed or something—no, Emma Swan couldn’t simply have nice things. Shit always, inevitably hit the fan.

Starting with having to arrest and book her roommate for murder.

She texted ahead and he had a shot waiting for her when she got to the bar after, then a couple more after that. She was definitely loitering—and he could tell. “What is it, love? Aside from the obvious.”

One thing she’d realized: he was exceedingly good at reading her, like a book he couldn’t put down.

“I don’t want to go back to the apartment,” she admitted. “It’s not that I’m afraid to be alone, but knowing that she’s in a cell and I’m there—and that someone may have been in the loft—I just…it freaks me out a bit.”

He swallowed. “Forgive me if this is too forward, but…I could go with you,” he offered. “At least to make sure everything is safe.”

“I’d like that.”

The walk to the loft from the Rabbit Hole was short but filled with energy; there was literally no reason for her to be any sort of excited, but she never invited guys back to her place. Even if she had no plans of anything intimate happening, this was something of a big step for her.

Of course, it ended up being anticlimactic—there was nothing amiss in the flat—but she was still hesitant to want to leave his presence, while at the same time not wanting to seem needy or like she was coming onto him in a subversive way.

“I, uh, could sleep on the couch, if you’d feel better,” he offered, doing that adorable nervous scratch behind the ear. Right—it had been a while for him with this kind of stuff, too.

“Um, yeah, I would. Thanks.”

That was the night she learned he snored—but the sound eventually lulled her to sleep, too.

As it did for the next few nights.

Then came the one after she narrowly escaped that crazy Jefferson’s house with Mary Margaret. She was still shaking as she took the stairs to the apartment and almost didn’t notice Ian sitting on the landing, nearly tripping over his feet.

“Swan, what’s wrong? You never answered my texts so I got worried and came here and, well—I wasn’t sure who to call when the sheriff is the one missing.”

She invited him in—or tried to, but she was trembling so much, she could barely get the key in the lock. Not until his steady hand wrapped around hers and helped. 

Once inside, she nearly collapsed just closing the door—both out of relief, and because her adrenaline was finally wearing off. But Ian caught her. And for the first time in years, she let herself be comforted by someone else. (She didn’t cry—she wasn’t ready for that kind of vulnerability yet—but this was kind of a big deal.)

“Do you want me to stay on the couch again tonight?” he murmured when she began to sway, fatigue winning over. She shook her head into his shoulder. (Also: he smelled good. Like, real good.) “Should…should I go?” She shook her head again.

Emma wasn’t a spooner. She took what she needed and then she left. But that was the night she understood why people enjoyed it so much. And waking up still wrapped in his strong arms was a kind of comfort she hadn’t known existed.

There was a brief—but weird—reprieve from the emotional heaviness when it turned out Kathryn Nolan was miraculously alive (despite her heart supposedly being outside her body), and then they held a party to welcome Mary Margaret back home. She shared (more than) a few drinks with Ian after the former; their first official outing as a couple, if it could be called that, was the latter. Mary Margaret arched an eyebrow and smirked at her as she and Ian moved around the kitchen getting ready. Emma just blushed—and then blushed harder when Ian pressed a quick kiss on her cheek as he stepped past her.

Then August kind of went crazy—his offer of help in dealing with the Regina-Sidney-whatever turned into another journey of emotional whiplash. She slumped onto what had become her usual stool at the bar, just a few minutes before close. Ian put some tea in front of her rather than anything stronger and took her upstairs after he’d locked up. He lived there, apparently, in a pretty spartan studio apartment. 

“Tell me,” he said gently. Not long ago, she would have brushed something like that off—but not anymore; not with him.

“I’m just tired of all this crap. Not just Regina—the whole curse thing, too. It was fine when it was Henry and I could play along, but now August? And he just—expected me to solve his problem? Just like that? No—no way.” She sighed. “It’s like everyone wants something from me or to fit some role; no one wants just Emma.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” he teased lightly. “Because I do.”

Well. She couldn’t argue with that.

And it became all the more obvious when she attacked his lips—and realized the rest of him was in agreement. She’d hesitated to take their relationship to that level; physical relationships were what she was used to, but adding in the emotional layer was something else—something more. 

But, as she learned, that was in a good way.

And while drifting off into a post-coital slumber while wrapped in Ian’s steady arms, she didn’t really care what went on in the outside world—as long as she had this.

———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———

Should have known that’s when it would all really, truly crash down on her. Henry—god—seeing him in that hospital bed…and not being able to do anything…but it worked: she believed. In magic, the curse—everything. (Especially once Regina confirmed it.)

So now she was on a mission, practically storming from the hospital—when she ran into a pair of arms she’d give anything to just be able to take shelter in right now. “Love—is Henry okay? What’s going on?”

For a minute, she just looked in Ian’s eyes: that now-familiar blue that carried a wisdom beyond his years and echoed his every emotion, so different now from when she’d first met him—but in a good way. The way his worry creased his brow, the weight of his hand on her waist. If the world was about to change, she wanted to memorize him—them—in this moment. “Is everything alright?” he asked again.

She rose up on her toes to give him a firm, but all-too-brief kiss. “It fucking will be,” she told him, then ran off to save the world—or something.

———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———

An eternity later (really only a couple hours, but holy shit did it feel longer), she had fought a dragon and then apparently broken a goddamn curse with True Love’s Kiss. All that really mattered was that Henry was okay, but all around her, everyone was coming to terms with what had been done to all of them.

She’d never expected to find out the waitress was a werewolf, or the therapist was a freaking cricket—and really never thought she’d be reunited with her parents. It was amazing, but it was also a lot.

She left Henry with his grandparents—god, grandparents—so she could take a minute and just—breathe.

The salty sea air hit her nose and she realized her feet had taken her to the docks. The view of the sea was soothing, but then she saw someone else there taking in the horizon—someone familiar. He wore the same clothes—the same motorcycle jacket, the black sweater that fit him extremely well, atop his usual dark jeans. But rather than the hand-like prosthesis she’d come to recognize, there was a hook—a freaking stereotypical pirate hook—at the end of his left arm.

(Henry had told her the fairytale counterpart of just about everyone in town—except for Ian. The illustrations in his book were good but maybe not distinct and there were a few options. She had a pretty good idea who it was narrowed down to now, though.)

“Ian?” she asked as she approached, partly to get his attention—and partly because she wasn’t sure who she was talking to.

He turned at the sound of her voice, but looked confused. Until he blinked and shook his head. “Aye, it’s me,” he answered, moving toward her. “My real name, though—it’s Killian, Killian Jones; it…took me a minute there.”

Killian. Similar, but different. It suited him. 

But also: Kill-Ian—was the man she held so important now gone, effectively killed by his new—true—self?

“So…how much was real? About you?” she had to ask.

“Some of it.” Apparently that nervous ear scratch carried over. “I am—was—am? A pirate, for decades, until I was caught.”

“Captain Hook?” she wondered, nodding at his prosthesis.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he smirked. It was similar to the one she knew—the same dimple—but it had a darker edge to it.

“Who hasn’t?” she replied, ignoring the bit of discomfort that was…well, adding to her overall sense of unease.

“The truth—my actual life—is a bit more gruesome than what I once told you. I wanted revenge for the murder of my love. That part was true—she had been the Dark One’s wife, and he killed her, then took my hand.” He emphasized it by toying with the (rather sharp) end of his hook.

Right; Mr. Gold was apparently—actually—a centuries-old sorcerer. “I’m not gonna have to lock you up for going after him, am I?”

“No. See, I got sloppy; I lost sight of things, and that’s how I was caught—by your parents’ kingdom, actually. Was about to be hanged when the Evil Queen’s knight rescued me. Graham.” Her heart skipped a beat. “In return, I offered them my services should they ever need them. Never heard from them again, and then got swept up in the curse.”

She swallowed. “Did she ever take you up on it? During the curse?”

He shook his head. “Never.”

“So, us…” God, she couldn’t even put it into words. If what they’d shared wasn’t…hadn’t meant…she couldn’t fathom.

He very quickly moved into her space and took her hand. “That was very real, Swan.” His gaze had never felt more intense as he went on. “It was my understanding that the curse twisted things—changed us. I had always been someone who felt things very strongly and deeply; it’s why I was so single-mindedly focused on revenge for decades. But then under the curse…I felt nothing—not a bloody thing, for years on end—until I met you, and it all came back. It was like my heart was turned back on—like you brought me back to life.” He rubbed his coarse thumb over the back of her hand. “I know you’re probably questioning things again—especially given that you don’t fully know me, the real version, now—but Emma, I still know you, and I still desperately want you.”

She sighed in relief and nearly sagged into his arms. “Good. Because I think I love you.”

He smiled; it started as a small thing, but he couldn’t hold back from turning into a grin. “That’s appropriate, because I’m fairly certain I love you, too.”

There was a lot she needed to figure out—her life was all kinds of a mess right now—but him—this—whoever he was, he was hers. Even if she didn’t fully know him, it still felt like her heart fit right in the palm of his hand (and vice versa).

She wasted no further time in wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his; he was equally quick to reciprocate.

And, actually? Killian kissed even better than Ian did.

———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———

thanks for reading! Tagging some friends (including the fabulous and supportive Word Forge): @ohmightydevviepuu @shireness-says @iverna @thejollyroger-writer @wistfulcynic @phiralovesloki @initiala @idoltina @xpumpkindumplingx @cocohook38 @kmomof4 @colinoeyebrows @pirateherokillian @annytecture @stubblesandwich @wingedlioness @scientificapricot @snowbellewells @searchingwardrobes @jrob64 and I know there's more I tend to include but tumblr is being weird about it rn.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Pen Pal

Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

Warnings: Slight mentions of homophobia

Summary: You've been Pen Pals with Ellie since you were in 5th grade. Will you finally get to meet her in person?

*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*****

November 3, 2028 (10 yrs old)

Dear Y/N,

My name is Ellie. I'm a fifth grader in Miss James' class in Wyoming. I like Savage Starlight and cookies. My best friends' name is Riley.

Do you have a best friend? Do you like Savage Starlight?

Sincerely Ellie Williams

November 10, 2028 (10 yrs old)

Dear Ellie,

Hi! It's nice to meet you! I love Savage Starlight! My brother hates them though. He never takes me to buy them at the book store :(

My bestfriends' name is Julie! Cookies are cool! I like ice cream. I have a dog. Do you have a dog? Do you like frogs? I like the color pink. Do you like pink?

Sincerely Y/N L/N

June 20, 2030 (12 yrs old)

Dear Y/N,

How's your dog? Joel's teaching me how to play the guitar! I learned how to play a song yesterday! I'm so happy.

Riley and I are planning on going to the fair tomorrow. I wish you could come. I bet you'd love Riley! Maybe some day you could meet her.

I finished the new addition of Savage Starlight yesterday and I'm so fucking sad. Did you finish it? I won't spoil. Let me know if you did so we can talk about it!

Sincerely Ellie!

June 28, 2030 (12 years old)

Dear Ellie,

I have bad news. Pepper died.

She died last night. Mom said she got really old and died in her sleep. Pepper was a good dog. I'm going to miss her.

I'm really sad. I wish she was still her.

I haven't finished Savage Starlight yet. I'm waiting until I feel happy. Maybe in a few days.

Sincerely Y/N

August 3, 2032 (14 years old)

Y/N,

Riley's moving away. She came over and told me today. I'm really sad about it. She's been my friend ever since kindergarten.

She's moving to Boston.

I found an a cute ice cream shop yesterday and thought of you. Maybe some day you can see it. We could get ice cream there and then look at the comic book store.

I can't believe Savage Starlight is fucking ending. I've been reading it since fourth grade. I don't want it to end. How do you feel about it ending?

Love, Els

August 9, 2032 (14 years old)

Els,

I'm so sorry about Riley. That sucks. I hope you guys can still talk.

I'd love to go to the ice cream shop and comic book store with you one day. My brother went off to college today. He's studying to be a doctor. Cool right?

I don't want Savage Starlight end either. I wish it could go on forever. Fucking sucks.

I think you're my best friend.

Love, Y/N

September 12, 2032 (16 yrs old)

Y/N,

I won first place in the art show! I'm so fucking happy. Joel took me out for ice cream with Sarah yesterday. We had so much fun.

Do you think we should start using email? Or texting? Joel got me phone yesterday! I'm so excited! Here's my number if you want to text xxx-xxx-xxxx and my email: elwilliams@email.com

I've started working out at a local gym. I love it. I'm going every day. I think I might do something with space when I'm older. I really like space.

Also, I'm gay.

Love, Els

September 18, 2032 (16 yrs old)

Receiver: elwilliams@email.com

Subject: Hi

Els, this is my email! I'll send you a text right after this. I'm so happy for you! First phone yay!! Also congrats on the art show!

The gym is fun! And space is so cool! I'm not sure what I'll do yet when I'm older. I'm still deciding. I'm glad you know what you want to do though.

Also, cool! I'm glad you feel comfortable telling me! I love you, Els. <3

My brother's being a fucking asshole. He refuses to come to my birthday party because his girlfriend's parents want to have dinner the same day.

I wish you could come. Maybe some day.

Love, Y/N

May 2, 2034 (18 yrs old)

Receiver: elwilliams@email.com

Subject: So

I think I might not be straight. I'm not sure. I've only told you. I can't tell my parents. I don't know how they'd react. I know my brother would hate me. He's a fucking dick now. I don't know why he's the way he is.

My parents have started fighting a lot. Money problems I think. I think my dad might have cheated on my mom too.

I'm excited to go to college next year. I'm glad we got into the same school! We'll finally be able to meet. I've been wanting to meet you for years. Maybe I can finally get away from all the shit that's been going on lately.

I don't know why this all happened so fucking fast.

I hope you're well.

Lots of Love, Y/N

May 2, 2034 (18 yrs old)

Receiver: y/ncup@email.com

Subject: So

Hey, so I know how you're feeling. It'll take some time to figure out, but you'll get there. No matter what, I'll love you.

You're family sounds like a bunch of dicks. I'm sorry you have to go through that.

I've been talking with Joel and he said I could do this.

Do you want to come stay with me and my family over the summer? Maybe get a break from your family? We could idk finally fucking meet?

Let me know if you want to come to Wyoming. You could meet my friends. Then we could drive up to school together. It's not too far from my house. Maybe day or two away.

Also, I got a girlfriend. her name is Cat. She gave me this cool ass tattoo. I'll send a pic.

__Pic Attached__

Love, Els

My eyes scan over the email again, making sure I didn't imagine what I just read. Ellie just invited me to Wyoming for the summer! There's no fucking way I'm missing this opportunity.

I'm finally going to get to meet her!

My eyes land on the last line. I got a girlfriend.

Fuck.