#to college :((( let me just stay at home and make art all day

[snazzi-strawberri]

AAAA college applications AAAA college entrance exams AAAAAA COLLEGE AAAAAAAAAA IM NOT READY FOR COLLEGE AAAAUUUUUUUUGHHHHGGGGGGG

[rhaenyratargcryen]

you're my shotgun lover and i want it all | tyler owens (twisters)

masterlist ❈

summary: Every once in a while, the two of you will get a little too drunk, stay until last call, sneak back to your motel room, and fuck. Nobody knows – at least you don’t think they do – and you never talk about it when you’re sober. Tyler will generally stay until you fall asleep, but he’s always gone when you get up the next day. Only once has he woken up in bed with you the next morning, and you’ve never made that mistake again. There isn’t a name for what you feel for him, you don’t think, and you can’t tell what he thinks of the arrangement. Clearly he likes it, or he wouldn’t be making eyes at you from across three people’s laps as you pull these peanuts from their shells. author's note: i...wrote this...in one.......single......afternoon. my fingers hurt anyway he's so hot i have had a crush on glen powell since 2018 (set it up supremacy) but this movie reawakened something in me. i should probably watch top gun now

pairing: tyler owens x f!reader word count: 9,123 (...oopsie) warnings/tags: pWp (with, y'all!), alternate universe: canon divergence, friends to lovers, friends with benefits

also cross-posted to ao3 okay love you bye xoxo your comments and reblogs are appreciated but not required i will love you all the same i hope u like !!!! <3

all characters are 18+ these are 18+ activities minors pls do not interact my eye is twitching as i write this 

It has been one hell of a week.

The tornadic activity has been off the charts – more storms built up under ideal conditions for weather hell-bent on destruction in a multiple-day stretch than you can remember ever tracking before. Your team had obviously been up for the chase, but now that the storms have passed, and the sun shines on the cleanup efforts, you can’t help but wish you’d chosen a different life path. You love what you do, but God, were you tired. Blisters have formed on the palms of your hands despite the gloves you’d donned. You could practically feel the knots forming in your neck. You shovel one more load of leaf litter before heaving the blade into the ground and leaning against it. Across from you, a backhoe is demolishing and excavating the remains of a house.

You close your eyes and try to just let the sun warm your face, thinking about how fast it can all just be gone. Mother Nature’s a beautiful force, but she can be cruel.

“Hey, don’t be slowin’ down on me,” Tyler jokes, clapping a hand between your shoulder blades. You hadn’t heard him approach, and his voice has startled you, pulling you from your thoughts. “We’re ‘bout halfway done with our part, I think.”

“No,” you reply, swiping the back of your arm across your forehead, trying in vain to clear your bangs from your eyes, but they won’t budge. Tyler reaches up and, almost as if he isn’t even thinking about it, takes the unruly pieces of hair between his thumb and forefinger and tucks it behind your ear, underneath the temple of your sunglasses, to make sure it stays this time. The action is so intimate it sends a flush crawling up your neck. You chance a look around to make sure no one else has seen. “Not slowin’ down, I promise. Just thinking about how lucky we are to be alive. How sad it is that all these people just lost everything.”

You’ve known Tyler since the two of you were in college together, fast friends who’d stuck together through a lot that could've put a strain on any other relationship, although you hadn’t studied meteorology – you’d been in school to be a librarian. 

One night, he’d asked you to stay up and help him with a lab he’d missed for one of his classes, and he loves to say he knew it then – that you were hooked – but you were too far along in your degree to do anything about it now. Switching from an arts degree to one in STEM? You’d have had to start over from scratch. 

Tyler had formed his team while you were in grad school and he was working as a cowboy for the rodeo back home, and you’d dropped out without a second thought when he asked you to be a founding member, to travel the country with him every tornado season. Said he wouldn’t – couldn’t – think about doing it without you. You’ve been riding with him ever since.

The two of you share everything, always have, and sometimes you wonder if it might be too much for the professional relationship you’re supposed to have.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Tyler grins, the hand still glued to your back rubbing gently, sending goosebumps across your skin under your shirt. “To help ‘em feel like their luck is turnin’.”

Always the optimist, Tyler Owens. He clears his throat, the hand on your back pulling away, and steps slightly closer to you.

“One of the folks over there gave these to me,” he says, gesturing to a group of people gathering in front of a house that looks like something had tried to suck it into the ground from dead center. “I saved their cat from their screened-in porch, poor thing had been yowling all night apparently. Know these’re your favorite, so, here you go. I think you earned it.”

You take the tin from him and open it, your mouth instantly watering at the sight of the small, round butter cookies inside. “God,” you groan, picking one up and taking a bite, savoring it over your tongue. You can feel Tyler watching you carefully. “Thank you. You get me.”

“Do we get cookies, Tyler?”

Lily’s voice sounds from your left, and you glance over at her. The shit-eating look on her face tells you she did see Tyler fix your hair for you. Your stomach somersaults.

“If you’re good,” Tyler says, smirking, “after the sun sets, we can head back to the motel, find some shitty bar, and drinks’ll be on me, okay? How’s that sound?”

Lily whoops, turning to Dani, who’d since appeared beside her, and the two snicker and fist bump. 

“You need any help over here?”

You look back at Tyler, cupping one hand above your eyes to shield them from the sunlight. Despite your glasses, it shines bright from directly behind him, and you can hardly stand to look at him. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” you murmur in reply, bending down to toss some siding that had been blown off one of the houses on this street into the wheelbarrow you’ve been using. “You should go see what Boone’s up to – I don’t think anyone has seen him in a minute.”

No doubt Boone was hiding somewhere with one of the breakfast burritos Lily and Dani have been rolling since early that morning, seeing how long he can get away with not doing his part. He’s a good guy, but the manual labor side of the job isn’t really his thing.

“Eh, he’s better off wherever he is,” Tyler laughs, and a small smile takes over your face, too. “Hey, you sure you’re okay? You don’t need a break? You can take a minute to yourself, no one’ll judge. I know how this can all get to you a little more than it gets to everyone else.”

You know him well enough to know he’s not calling you weak-stomached, that he’s genuinely concerned for how you feel, but he’s right. It does all get to you. Settling in to help survivors of these natural disasters is just something that comes with the chasing – there isn’t one without the other for you and the rest of the crew. You nod, glancing back up at him. 

“I’m okay, Tyler. Go off and be the face of the operation – you don’t have to worry about me.”

Tyler’s eyes narrow, his gaze shifting between your eyes, trying to find evidence you’re withholding the truth from him, but he seems to find nothing. With a minute tip of his head, he turns to resume working through a long-term plan for rebuilding the town with the mayor and some other members of the local government. 

This is something else you know he loves to do – shmooze with higher-ups, show off his people skills. Not only are they higher-ups, they’re small-town folk. His kind of people. He knows how to get through to them, how to get them to trust him. You love that about Tyler. He’s never condescending – he always has a genuine desire to help. He’s been through this hundreds of times, and these people may only have been through it this one time. You look around at them, at the people of all ages picking up the pieces that remain of their community, then cross your fingers and send a thought out to anyone listening:

Please let it be the only time.

After a few more hours of genuinely back-breaking work, you hear Tyler’s sharp whistle and know it’s time, meandering over to his truck where it’s been parked for almost eighteen hours. Using your teeth, you pull your gloves from your hands and hiss. They’ve been rubbed raw, the skin blistering where each finger meets the palm. You try to ignore the throbbing sensation, leaning against the passenger side door and closing your eyes. The rest of the crew sidle up to you, taking long drags from water bottles and cigarettes and trying to make peace with how you’re leaving this place tonight.

“Does anyone else want to break off to shower first?”

It seems Dani’s the only one, and they shrug, putting their hand out, palm up, to Dexter, who hands them the keys to the RV.

“Meet y’all there,” they say, stifling a yawn, and you know it’ll be a bit before you see them. The rest of you will have to pile into Tyler’s truck, and before you can object, the other three crawl into the back seat and leave you on the front bench with Tyler. You let yourself in and close the door behind you, buckling and watching as Tyler shakes someone’s hand and hustles to meet the rest of you. His Texans cap hits the bench before he does, between the two of you, and he turns his keys in the ignition, buckling his own seatbelt.

“Where we headin’?”

“There’s a place with a mechanical bull nearby. I vote there.”

“How nearby is ‘nearby,’ Boone?”

“Uh,” he pulls his phone from his pocket, does a quick Google to double-check. “Forty-five minutes?”

Dexter leans over and grips Boone’s phone, reading the screen. “In the opposite direction of the motel, Boone.”

Everyone groans, objecting, and you press your hand against your temple to alleviate the pressure there. The noise, God, the noise.

“Could we go somewhere closer to the motel, maybe?”

“It’s got a mechanical bull,” Boone stresses, and everyone rolls their eyes.

“Boone, you know damn well we’re not making it back to the motel if we go that far away.”

He groans, and you pull your own phone out, checking Maps to see what’s around the motel.

“This one’s three minutes from where we’re stayin’,” you say, showing Tyler your screen, and he nods, shifting into reverse, backing out, and starting down the one lane of the street that’s been cleared of debris. 

“Hey Boone,” you toss over your shoulder as Tyler shifts into second gear. “By the way. Long time no see.”

Lily snorts, smacking you on the shoulder to let you know she thought that was a good one. Boone shakes his head. 

“Hey, just because you didn’t see me all day doesn’t mean I wasn’t out there, too. How do I know you were workin’, weren’t sitting on your ass in the shade somewhere, hm?”

You hold your raw, red palms out for him to inspect and that shuts Boone up quick. Tyler whistles as he gets an eyeful of your skin.

“God damn, girl,” Lily murmurs. “That looks like it hurts. I think I might have Aquaphor in my bag back at the motel if you want some.”

“I’ll be alright,” you reply, knocking your elbow against her knee behind you in thanks. “Appreciate you.”

The rest of the drive is taken mostly in silence, everyone in the backseat trying to rest their eyes, but you stay up, your eyes on the road, so Tyler isn’t the only one making the thirty-ish minute drive back to where you’re staying, where you checked in only after it’d been decided which towns had been hit the worst, so you could reach all of them easily by truck.

“What’s goin’ on in your head? Hm?”

You turn to look at Tyler and he glances at you from out of the corner of his eye, then at your lap, at the fingernails you’ve picked down to the quick. “Real quiet over there.”

“Nothing,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t let Boone get to you,” Tyler says, tapping his right fist on your thigh once, twice, then letting it rest there. You brush your knuckles against his and he opens the fist immediately, taking your hand in his but not squeezing, careful not to put pressure on the blisters on your palms.

“It’s not that,” you start, then realize your mistake, your admission. “I really – I think I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.”

You’re acutely aware of your hand in Tyler’s. It’s not like you’ve ever been shy around him – your cheeks flush at the thought – but this is…different. Sweet. More.

“Yeah, that it has,” he sighs, adjusting his left hand on the steering wheel so he can drive a little more comfortably, but his right hand stays in yours. 

You settle back into silence, Tyler seemingly having dropped the subject, and your eyes return to the road, but you feel him looking over at you, checking on you, every once in a while. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze. 

Soon enough, Tyler is putting the truck in park, then shutting the thing off. The noise – or lack thereof, you guess – wakes Dexter in the back, then Lily, who snorts when she sees your hand in Tyler’s. You pull away and unbuckle your seatbelt, watching as Tyler, with a hurt look on his face, wipes his hand on his jeans and swings himself down and out of the truck.

“C’mon, Boone,” he shouts, slapping a hand on the door that Boone has his head resting against, and the man sits up straight, wiping sleep from his eyes. “The sun hasn’t even gone down yet. Drinks on me, pal!”

The motel really is that close to the bar, so you all decide you’ll leave the truck parked there and walk home at the end of the night. The unspoken verdict is that you will all be getting shitfaced tonight.

The lingering smell of cigarettes in the air seems to rejuvenate everyone and Lily pumps a fist when she spots the old-fashioned jukebox across the room, then claps a hand over her mouth when she realizes there’s a TouchTunes sitting right next to it.

“Oh, I am so forcing you fuckers to listen to Chappell Roan all night,” she says gleefully, and you laugh along with her, looping your arm in hers and letting her pull you across the room while the boys settle in at the bar.

“So what was that all about?”

“What was what all about?” You play dumb, shrugging when Lily gives you a hard look and unhooks her arm from yours.

“Girl, seriously,” Lily scoffs, bumping your hip with hers and slipping a twenty dollar bill into the TouchTunes. Evidently she wasn’t joking when she meant you’d be listening to Chappell Roan all night. “I saw that thing earlier, the hair thing, don’t think I didn’t. And y’all holding hands in the truck. What’s going on there?”

You shake your head but she grabs your wrist. “I’m serious, Lil. Nothing’s going on. We’re friends – good friends. He noticed I was having a hard time today, and wanted to make sure I was alright. That’s all.”

You can tell she doesn’t fully believe you, and when she opens her mouth to object, you cut her off.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom, okay?”

Lily watches you, trying to read the small line between your eyebrows, but eventually she nods and lets go of you, letting you turn away from her. You push through the door to the women’s restroom, your nose wrinkling at the smell, but you ignore it. Standing in front of the sink, you watch yourself, hands shaking. This isn’t you. You’re better than this at shoving these feelings for Tyler down, way down – or, rather, you had been, up until this week broke you, apparently. Turning the knob for the cold water to the left, you let it run over your sore hands, hissing at the feeling. Carefully, you cup your palms and watch them fill, then splash the water onto your face, soothing the flush. There. That should help.

There’s a cold bottle of Coors in front of the seat next to Dexter when you arrive back to the group, “Red Wine Supernova” playing from the speakers. You almost snort at all the old men – regulars, no doubt – groaning out their distaste for whoever chose the music all across the room.

“Thanks,” you toss over your shoulder at Tyler, sitting on the other side of Dexter and Boone. He nods and nurses his own. You frown and settle onto the stool, leaning an elbow on the bartop so you can turn and face your friends. The cold beer against the palms of your hands feels so nice.

What’s wrong with him? He won’t make eye contact with you, and you notice his jaw clicking as he grits his teeth. What’s got his panties in a twist?

As the night unfolds, you find yourself laughing more and more, loosening up, letting the stress of the last week fade into memory. Someone has produced a deck of cards from God knows where and Dani – who did join the group eventually – is showing off card tricks you didn’t even know they knew. You feel a warmth spreading through your body, and you can’t stop thinking about how much you love all of these people. Your friends. Your family. Empty bottles are swiftly replaced with full, cold ones without notice, and everyone is languid, relaxed, unburdened by the work that you’re all doing.

You take a pull from your drink, using the cover of the bottle to risk a glance to Tyler three seats down from you to find that he’s already watching you, and the look in his eye tells you exactly what he’s thinking. That somersault-y feeling is lower than your stomach now. You’re only three beers deep, but the air in your head reminds you that you’ve barely eaten all day, so you’re a little more affected by the alcohol than you’d usually be. Impolitely, you reach across Dexter next to you to grab a handful of peanuts from the basket to his left.

Glancing back up at Tyler, you meet his heady gaze again, and he smirks around the lip of the bottle against his mouth. He knows he’s got you right where he wants you. You swallow nervously around another sip of beer.

Every once in a while, the two of you will get a little too drunk, stay until last call, sneak back to your motel room, and fuck. Nobody knows – at least you don’t think they do – and you never talk about it when you’re sober. Tyler will generally stay until you fall asleep, but he’s always gone when you get up the next day. Only once has he woken up in bed with you the next morning, and you’ve never made that mistake again. There isn’t a name for what you feel for him, you don’t think, and you can’t tell what he thinks of the arrangement. Clearly he likes it, or he wouldn’t be making eyes at you from across three people’s laps as you pull these peanuts from their shells.

“Alright, y’all,” Lily says, slapping a hand on the bar, startling you out of your thoughts. You watch her, popping a nut into your mouth. “Think I’m gonna head out. I suggest you all do, too, fuckers, it’s late.”

Everyone starts to protest, but one glance at the clock tells you you’ve all stayed much longer than you thought – it’s a quarter past midnight, and you’ve got to be up with the daylight. You balk, but if you want to talk to Tyler tonight, you know you’ve got to shoulder your exhaustion and stick it out a little longer.

“I think I might stay for a bit,” you murmur, watching everyone stand and gather their things. You glance over at Tyler, who you can see clearly now that everyone’s out of their seats, and he’s watching you, too. The look on his face reads plain, now – he wants you.

“I’ll stay with her,” he says, eyes on yours. The green in them has disappeared almost completely, you notice, his pupils blown wide. “Walk her back. Y’all head back if you want.”

“I might stay, too –” Boone’s voice cuts off, coughing as Lily elbows him in the stomach, maybe a little too hard. “What the fuck was that for?”

“You’re going to bed, too, Boone,” Dani interrupts, a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the door. They poke him once when he starts to protest. “C’mon, now.”

Everyone shuffles out the front, Dexter calling good night, and all of the sudden, it’s just you and Tyler. You don’t know why, but your palms begin to sweat at the thought of being alone with him again. He stands, palming his drink, and slides onto the seat next to you, his body angled towards yours.

He’s never made you nervous like this. You don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you.

“So,” Tyler starts, grinning at you. “You come here often?”

You snort, emboldened by the booze, and he chuckles in response. “Idiot.”

“God, but I do love making you laugh.”

You blush under his scrutinous gaze, and take a quick swig of the dregs of your drink, unsure what to say to that. He mirrors you, taking a sip of his own while his eyes bore into yours. Accusatory.

“You don’t do it much anymore, you know that?”

“Do what?”

“Laugh.”

You press your fingertips to your mouth and Tyler’s eyes follow your hand. “I guess I just haven’t had much to laugh about lately,” you start, sighing deeply. “Tornado season’s been hard this year, and you know how much that – it gets to me. As much as I love what we do. You know. Remember that family a couple weeks back whose daughter was stuck under her bunk bed when it pressed on her too long, lost her leg below the knee? That got to me, Tyler. It did.”

“It gets to me, too,” he murmurs, knocking his knee against yours. “I guess I’m just better at hiding how bad it affects me. You can talk to me about it, though. You can talk to any of us.”

“I know I can,” you breathe, trying to keep your hands from shaking. “I know. Sometimes I don’t know what to say, though, you know, what is there to say? It’s not fair to complain about how sad it makes me to watch these people lose everything.”

“You’re allowed to feel sad. And to feel frustrated. It’s not fair, you’re right, but we’re doing good work, yeah? Fighting the good fight. Figuring out what makes these things tick, how to warn people when they’re in the path, get them outta the way and safe. Maybe they lose their house, their car, but they won’t lose themselves, or each other. That’s what matters most. Just remember that.”

You look up at him, set your elbow on the bartop, and prop your chin on your open palm. Your hands don’t hurt so bad anymore, you notice. “Thanks, Tyler.”

“Anytime,” he smiles, but you shake your head. 

“Seriously. You always know what to say.”

A look crosses his face then, too quick for you to read, and he sets his drink down, flagging the bartender over to close out the team’s tab. You frown, wondering if you’d, ironically, said the wrong thing.

“What’s up?”

Tyler looks back to you, and this time, the look in his eyes is unmistakable. It burns. “Taking you home, sweetheart.”

The walk back to your motel is done in silence. Tyler’s hand swings next to yours, and you feel it searching for yours more than once, but you don’t take it. You climb the stairs together, slowly, and he walks you to your door. His room is one more floor up.

You can tell he thinks you won’t invite him in, that you’ve changed your mind – or maybe that you never made it up. He hadn’t, after all, told you plainly that that was why he’d stayed with you at the bar. You unlock the room with your key card and step inside, opening the door only far enough for you to fit through it. You turn back to look at him, his face awash in the street lights shining into the hallway. You flip the lightswitch on next to you, illuminating the room behind you, too.

“Well,” he murmurs, making to head back down the stairs. “Good night.”

“Tyler?”

His head turns back to look at you, watching as you hold out one hand and he takes it, letting you pull him closer to you. You press yourself into him, push your whole face against his chest, your hip keeping the door from closing on the two of you. You inhale deeply, the smell of him overtaking your senses. His cologne, yes, but underneath that, the smell of dirt, earth. Home.

You feel his arms wrap around your back and you turn your head to the side, press your ear to his heartbeat. Your hands come up to scratch down his back and you feel it when he shudders.

“Stay?”

You hear his breath hitch in his chest, then the deep rumble of his voice as he says, “Alright, baby.”

With a short inhale, your eyes flutter, nearly closing at the term of endearment. You step back, pulling him with you, and as you close the door behind you, he pushes one hand up into your hair and pulls your head toward his.

“I, uh,” you whisper against his lips when they get close enough to yours, “I think I might shower first, if that’s okay with you?”

“Alright,” he murmurs, unlacing his hand from the strands of your hair before toeing his boots off and carefully setting them under the chair next to the front door. “You want company?”

You swallow. You’ve never done anything like that before. It’s always been quick. When you do this with him, you hardly ever have time for a chat before he’s got your shirt over your head and his mouth on your skin.

“Sure,” you reply. You feel him watch as you turn around and pull your shirt off, reaching back to unclasp your bra. The modesty feels redundant, but you can’t help it.

“Not gettin’ shy on me now, are you? S’not like I haven’t seen you naked before,” he chuckles, and you throw a look at him over your shoulder just as he’s pulling his own shirt over his head. He left his hat at the bar, you think. You’ll have to go back in for it when you pick up the truck.

“Tyler,” you scold, and he laughs at you, steps across the room to wrap an arm around your torso and press a kiss to where your neck meets your shoulder. The place he knows makes you melt. You sigh and push back against him, the feeling of his hard chest against your bare back a welcome one. This feels more like what you know, what you’re used to.

“Shower,” you remind him, and he nods, his forehead pressed into that spot now, and he pushes his fingers underneath the waistband of your jeans, running them along the bit of skin there around to the front, where the fabric splits at the button. He pops it undone, then uses his thumb and forefinger to grip the zipper and slowly – so slowly – pulls that down. He can’t help himself, you know that, and so you hold your breath and wait for him to push his hand into your panties. Ever a predictable man, he does just that, and you gasp at the feeling of his warm hand against you.

“Are you sure?” Tyler’s breath against your neck makes you shiver, and you press your ear to the side of his chin. He runs his fingers along the seam of you, finding first your clit, your legs twitching at the sudden rush of pleasure when he brushes his hand against it, then pushing down to find you wet and wanting. You cry out softly. “You don’t sound sure. You don’t feel sure.”

You hum, your neck stretching back until your head is pressed to his chest, and he pulls his hand back up to start working small circles on your clit, your wetness on his fingers allowing for smooth movement, with just enough friction to have you panting for more. 

“Sounds more to me like you kinda want me to fuck you with my fingers.”

“Tyler,” you whimper, telling him with just his name that you are getting close. He smiles against the side of your neck, pulling his hand away and shoving your jeans and underwear down just enough that his hand has room to smack your clit lightly. You squeal, right leg kicking out at the feeling, and he continues moving his hand in circles to soothe the hurt.

Your breath is coming out of you in short huffs, and before you can come, Tyler takes his hand off of you and wraps it around your stomach to join the other. You pant and whine, rubbing your thighs together to chase the feeling he’d had you practically pressed up against, now ebbing with the loss of his fingers.

“You said you wanted to shower,” he whispers in your ear, pulling your panties back up, and you scowl, pushing away from him. He laughs and holds his hands up in defense as you pick your t-shirt up off your bed and crack it at him like a whip. “Let’s shower, baby.”

“I might kick you out right now, Owens,” you snark, but the small smile on your face gives you away, and Tyler unbuttons his own jeans, leaving them in a pile on the floor at the end of the bed. Your jeans join his, and you’re both left in your underwear.

“You wouldn’t,” he replies, pulling his briefs off slowly, biting his bottom lip as you watch him. “You like this cock too much.”

You can’t help laughing at him, but the sight of him bare in front of you does have you biting your lip. You step forward to cup his growing length in your hand. Before you can move it, Tyler puts a hand on your wrist.

“How’s your hand?” He makes to pull it away, presumably to turn it over and appraise your blisters, but you shake your head.

“S’fine,” you whisper, tightening your grip. You tug once, twice, and press a kiss to his bare chest, then tip your head back to search out his lips. He leans down to oblige you, his lips parting against your mouth as you twist your fist. You love these moments you share with him, when you’re both bare, physically, emotionally, away from the real world, and you can pretend this is an everyday thing. When you’re not trying to tell yourself you feel nothing for him. Like this is just how it is between you.

Tyler groans when you pull your hand away from him and you click your tongue, press that same hand against his bicep.

“Doesn’t feel so good, now does it?”

Before you even know what’s happening, Tyler is picking you up, one arm underneath your back and the other around the backs of your knees. You look up at his face and laugh. “Put me down, Owens!”

He grins and carries you the few paces into the bathroom, placing you on your feet in front of the tub. Tyler leans down and pushes his thumbs underneath the waistband of your panties, waiting for you to put your hands on his shoulders and step out of them.

He lets you pull away from him to turn the hot water on, adjusting the cold side until the temperature is perfect, before pulling you against his chest once again. This time, you can feel his hard cock pressed against your backside, and you hum appraisingly. You reach behind you to fist him again, but he shakes his head – you feel his chin brush against the top of your head – and he groans out, “Mm-mm.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna shower, baby, c’mon.”

You glance back towards him and watch as he flicks the overhead light on. “So we don’t slip and die,” he says, and you laugh, pushing the shower curtain to the side. Holding Tyler’s hand, you step over the lip of the tub and under the steady stream of warm water, inhaling deeply when it hits the sore muscles in your shoulders and back. Tyler groans at the feeling, too, when he steps in behind you.

“Here, switch with me,” he murmurs, guiding you by your waist until you’re the one underneath the water. You let it fall onto the top of your head, over your face and down the back of your hair, for a moment, eyes closed, relishing the feeling. Tyler reaches both hands up and brushes the water out of your eyes, runs his hand over the top of your head. 

“Shampoo?”

You open one eye, the other shut against the water, and nod. You gaze up at him, heart squeezing at the way he’s watching you. His smile widens and he takes the tiny bottle in his hand – it looks even more comically small now – and dumps the product into his other palm, setting the bottle down onto the edge of the tub and rubbing his hands together.

“Turn around.”

You do as he asks, inhaling sharply through your nose when you feel his hands run through the hair at the crown of your head. Your stomach aches with longing as you register how unnaturally intimate this is. His fingers feel so good against your scalp, which is slightly sunburnt, you’re now realizing. He massages the shampoo further into your hair, running his fingers down the back of your neck and across the tops of your shoulders. When he’s satisfied with his shampoo job, he steers you by your arms to face him again, then carefully helps you tilt your head back and rinses it all from your hair.

You watch him pick up the other small bottle from the shelf, warm water still running down the back of your head. 

“I’ll do my conditioner,” you murmur, taking the bottle gently from his hands. “It’s a – it’s a science.”

“I am very good at science, if you can recall.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s something I’ve gotten perfectly right. It’ll take just a sec.”

So you work the conditioner through the ends of your hair, avoiding his gaze as he watches your hands first coat your hair in the product, then rinse it out. He reaches forward to run his own fingers across it, as gently as he can.

“Hm,” he makes the noise in the back of his throat, pulling his hand away. “Soft.”

You can hardly look at him, the twisting feeling in your stomach shifting to something warmer, something further from apprehension, something that feels a lot like want. “You?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I’m good. Here,” he says, rubbing his hands across the plane of your upper back. “You’re tense. You worked hard today. Let me help.”

You weren’t going to protest, but before you can, Tyler guides you forward and out of the direct spray of the shower, then presses his thumbs into your muscle. You groan, your head falling forward onto his chest at the feeling, and he chuckles at you, continuing with his hands. “Feel good?”

“So good,” you whimper, and you feel his cock twitch against your stomach.

“You fucking dog,” you joke, and Tyler laughs against you, pushing your hair off the back of your neck and pressing his thumbs in there, too.

“Hey, what can I say? I like making my girl feel good.”

You freeze. His girl? His girl. He hasn’t noticed your reaction, and he keeps pressing his fingers into your sore muscles, pulling one hand away briefly to push the showerhead down and away from the two of you. You glance up, already missing its warmth, but you find that the steam rising around you is doing a good enough job at that.

“Here, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and guiding you to press your hands against the tiled wall to your left, running his hands down your back.

“What are you –”

Before you can finish the thought, you feel Tyler’s fingers parting the seam of your cunt from – from behind, and you groan at the feeling of his middle finger slipping inside of you.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, his knees hitting the floor behind you. You toss a glance at him over your shoulder and your own knees nearly buckle at the way he’s looking up at you – with hunger, and with reverence, and with something else entirely unrecognizable. He looks wild. He looks in love.

One of Tyler’s hands clamps down around your hips and he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh as his finger starts to shift in and out of you. You shiver and push your face into the cool tile, groaning softly when he finds that rough bit of flesh inside of you, the one that makes you come undone if he works it long enough.

“Yeah?” Tyler sounds fucked out already, his voice breathy against your skin, and you can picture the look on his face, the concentrated expression he gets when he’s trying to make you come. You try to focus on the feeling of the shower’s spray where it hits the edge of your foot rather than how good his finger feels inside you because if you think too closely about how good it feels, you’ll get lightheaded. And nobody wants that.

“Yeah,” you reply weakly, and for a few minutes it’s just like that, the only sound in the bathroom the shower, your panting moans, and the noise your pussy makes as he pulls his finger in and out.

“Sound so good for me, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh again, and you whine, trying to protest when he slips his finger from you. He laughs deep in his chest and lightly smacks the swell of your ass.

“Don’t complain when I’m doin’ somethin’ nice for you,” he jok, and you can feel then that he’s shifting himself around. You want to look over your shoulder, want to see for yourself what he’s doing, but freeze when you feel his palms cupping your ass, his nose pressing against the inside of your thighs.

Your mouth forms the word oh, but no sound comes out until you feel his mouth press against your cunt, tongue pushing inside of you, and then you cry out, chest heaving, when he presses a sloppy, wet kiss to your clit. You pull your face from where it’s still resting against the tile and look down at Tyler to find he’s already looking right up at you. His grip on your ass tightens when you make eye contact with him, and he spreads you open wider for him, eyes narrowing as his tongue flicks again, and again, and again.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he moans against you, the vibrations causing your legs to twitch. You already thought you were going to burst, the steam from the shower, the way he’d washed your hair, the fact that he was in your room at all – it all made you feel slightly insane. To add insult to injury, he’s just pushed two fingers inside of you and immediately found the spot that takes you out, and you start to shake a little.

“Tyler,” you whine, pushing one hand down to grip his hair. He groans when you tighten your hold on it, fucking into you a little faster. “Tyler, fuck, gonna come.”

“So come, baby,” comes his reply, and you do, you come so hard that the toes on your right foot curl until you’re on tiptoe and Tyler has to reach up and grip your waist to steady you. You feel it crest, and peak, then subside, but he keeps working you through it, his mouth moving against you still, and a second, smaller – though still good – orgasm wracks your body right after the first.

You breathe through it, push your foot down so you’re standing flat on the surface of the tub again, and wait for Tyler to pull his fingers out of you. 

“Baby,” Tyler groans, squeezing your hips, his fingernails biting slightly into your skin. “You gotta let go’a me, if you want me to get up.”

His voice, fuck, his voice, you think, releasing your grip on his hair and turning to watch him rise from his knees, the tile cold against your back. You surge forward to kiss him square on the mouth and he catches you, smiles against you when you part your lips to taste yourself on his tongue.

“Was that good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, pressing one, two, three more quick kisses to his mouth, before he reaches behind you to turn off the water. “So fucking good.”

Neither of you bother with a towel, instead opting to stumble toward the queen bed in the middle of the room and climb right underneath the covers.

“Hi,” you whisper when you’re settled in, the duvet pulled up under your chin. Your eyes rove over his face, then glance over to the alarm clock behind him. 1:56 in the morning. “You still wanna fuck?”

Tyler snorts, reaching over to poke you in the side, gripping the skin there until you start to laugh. “You still wanna fuck?”

“Yeah,” you reply, grinning, when you catch your breath. “Wanna?”

He’s quiet for a second, watching the duvet rise and fall with each breath you take, before he peels it off of you, using his elbow to push himself up until he’s leaning over you. There’s a rosy flush on your chest, your breasts heaving and it’s all he can do not to lean down and take one of your nipples in his mouth, the one closest to him. Instead, he runs the back of his other hand across your chest, catching against the hard peak, and watches your breath stick to the inside of your throat. You feel yourself subconsciously leaning toward him as his face comes toward you. You want him to kiss you, but instead, he angles his mouth to kiss the skin below your chin.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes against your neck, pressing his open mouth to you there, and you gasp at the feeling – of his mouth against you, and of his praise. It all feels so nice. He just made you come in the shower, and now he’s going to make you come in this bed, hopefully more than once. 

You wrap your hands around his back and pull him toward you, watch as he settles in between your thighs. You can feel his thick cock, heavy, insistent, where it presses against you, and you want to take him into your hands, but he has other plans. 

With one hand pressed into the pillow on either side of your head, Tyler uses his knees to knock your legs out further, sitting back against his heels when he’s satisfied. He wraps his big hands around your thighs and pulls you closer, smiling down at you. “You’re so beautiful.”

You blush when he repeats himself, suddenly feeling very bare. He’s just as naked as you are, but you can’t help but feel like he’s seen your whole hand, meanwhile you hardly have any idea what cards he might hold. In the dim light from the lamp beside your head, you notice that you can see the green of his irises again. It seems like the shower sobered the two of you up very quickly.

His gaze locked on yours, Tyler takes himself into his hand, groaning at the pressure of his grip after neglecting his own want for so long, but he suddenly curses, pausing just as he’s about to press inside of you.

“What?”

“I don’t have a condom,” he breathes, sitting back again. He runs one hand through his hair, visibly weighing the options.

“It’s okay, Tyler,” you murmur, leaning up onto your elbows. “It’s okay. I have an IUD, and I got screened after the last time I was with someone. I’m good. I’m good if you’re good.”

Tyler heaves a heavy sigh, running his hands up your thighs. “You’re sure? I’m clean, too, cross my heart. But only if you’re sure.”

You nod. “My head is clear. I think I shook off my drunk an orgasm or two ago.”

A grin crosses his face, and you roll your eyes at him before he even opens his mouth. Two? he mouths, then whistles lowly. You smack his stomach, and he grabs your wrist in his hand, lightning quick, pressing a kiss to the pulse point there. Your jaw falls slack, and you go all soft and pliant, letting him pin your hands above your head. His body comes down over yours, and his mouth presses to your cheek, then your forehead, and when your eyes flutter shut, the ghost of a kiss crosses them, too.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he murmurs, and normally if a man were to say that to you, you would immediately regret letting him into your bed. But for some reason, when Tyler says it, it sends that familiar warmth spiraling down into your gut. You know he means it.

Slowly – too slowly – he guides himself back to your entrance, shifting his hips so they’re resting comfortably against yours, and he presses himself inside of you. You hiss; the girth of him, although a welcome stretch, is also a bit of an uncomfortable one. He leans down to kiss you, working you through it with a thumb pressing circles into your clit, sliding himself in bit by bit until he’s fully seated. 

A groan pushes out of him when you clench around him, testing the waters.

“Careful,” he murmurs, easing his hips back. “I’d like it if this lasted longer than ten seconds, please.”

You laugh against the side of his head, pull your hands down from where he’d left them above you and wrap yourself around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. Tyler grips your thighs and starts to work himself in and out of you, carefully, gently, but you squeeze his waist with your knees. Encouraging him. Asking him to pick it up. You can handle it.

His hips start to pull back and snap against yours quicker and quicker, Tyler panting in your ear, lifting up onto his palms and pushing himself off of you. He sits up onto his knees and tilts your hips up for a different angle, one that sets sparks dancing in front of your eyes. You groan, head tossed back, and dig your nails into his thighs as his pace picks up.

“Fuck, yeah, that it, baby? I can feel you – fuck, feel you squeezin’ me.”

You hardly have a voice with the rate he’s slipping in and out of you, barely enough to squeak out, “Fuck,” before your cunt has him in a vice grip, working through another orgasm.

“Ohhh, that’s it, huh, that’s it.” His mouth is going a mile a minute, neither of you really paying much attention to anything he’s actually saying. You’re both focused on his own mounting orgasm – you don’t feel like your body is capable of much more than that – and you weakly clamp down around him once more. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips stutter, and he grits out, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck,” before he slots against you and you feel him filling you. You run a hand down his back, soothing him as he comes, biting your lip at the feeling, foreign but enjoyable.

Tyler groans and glances down to where his cock is softening inside of you. He eases his hips back, cupping your face and pressing a kiss to your forehead as he does. “Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You nod meagerly, pressing the back of your hand against your warm cheek. He watches you and, assured that you’re not going to pass out on him or anything, stands and hobbles into the bathroom. The sink turns on out of sight, and you close your eyes, listening to the water run. Tyler returns with a warm, wet towel and wipes the inside of your thighs, swiping gently across your cunt, before folding the towel and letting it fall to the floor at your bedside.

You feel loose, calm. Safe. You hardly notice him turn the light off, but you do feel the bed dip beside you as he rejoins you under the covers and pulls you into his arms. You melt against his sturdy chest, his heartbeat under your face a comfort, the rhythmic tick tick tick of it lulling you to sleep. But there’s still one thing you have to know before you can relax completely.

His breathing has started to even out, but he hasn’t snored yet, so you know he’ll still hear you when you ask, “Are you gonna leave?”

He grunts an acknowledgement of your question, nuzzling down into the top of your head.

“Do you want me to stay?”

You know your answer, but you still bite your lip, considering the question. You hadn’t thought before that maybe he left after every night you spent together because he thought you didn’t want to wake up with him. “Yes.”

“Okay,” he murmurs against your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Then I’ll stay.”

If he’s at all worried about what will happen when you wake up tomorrow, he doesn’t show it, but anxiety courses through you at the thought of anyone finding out. Does he want the others to know? Because that’s what it feels like.

“Stop thinking about it,” he whispers, like he can hear your thoughts racing. “It’ll be fine. Just go to sleep.”

Easy for him to say. He’s out like a light. And you’re left alone with your thoughts until you fall into fitful, dissatisfying sleep sometime around when the world outside starts to turn blue.

A pounding on your door wakes you from deep sleep – the deepest you’d gotten all night, at least – and you try to sit up but find there’s a heavy weight on your chest blocking you. You rub the sleep from your eyes, glancing down at the sleeping body next to you. It takes a second for it to register: Tyler’s here. 

Tyler’s here. Sidled up against you, arm thrown over your stomach like this is where he belongs. He didn’t leave. He stayed, like he said he would. His face looks so peaceful – so beautiful – you almost hate to wake him.

“Come on, sleepyhead! Time to get a move on!”

Almost. You scramble to push Tyler off of you, ignoring his noises of protest, jumping out from under the covers and grabbing various articles of clothing off the floor to pull over your naked form. You plop back down on the bed, this time on his side, right next to where he’s starting to wake.

“Dude, get up, they’re gonna know you’re not in your room. They’re gonna know you’re in here.”

“So what,” he grumbles, rolling over as you push him and settling deeper into the bed. “Let ‘em.”

You sit up straight, one hand on his arm. “You mean that?”

He hums and turns his neck to glance at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, ‘course I do. You’re my girl.”

Your face flushes a deep pink and Tyler grins, reaching over to wrap an arm around you and drag you back down into the bed, pinning you under him and peppering an assault of open-mouthed kisses all over your face. You grin, thinking that you could get used to this – just not right now.

“Seriously, Tyler,” you laugh, pushing a hand against the side of his face. He squeezes your hip. “We have to get up. We gotta get back out there.”

Tyler sighs, loosening his grip on your body and kneeling over you. “Yeah, you’re right. Alright, alright.”

He stands and takes the top sheet with him, wrapped around his waist, and heads to the bathroom. To brush his teeth, you hope. God.

“You know,” he says, head popping back out into the room, mouth full of toothpaste. “Yesterday. I wanted them to see us holding hands.”

You watch as he smiles at you and disappears back into the bathroom, then fall back onto the bed, hands pressed over your eyes. 

Fifteen minutes later, the two of you are dressed, teeth brushed, hair taken care of, day packs slung over your shoulder, and you’re pulling the door closed behind you when you hear a whistle that pulls your attention to the parking lot.

“Damn, Owens!”

The voice makes you jump, and you groan. You thought you were going to get away with the sneaking around, but the rest of your team is watching from next to the RV as the two of you descend the stairs together.

Lily and Dani turn to Boone with smug looks on both their faces, and he rolls his eyes and pulls his wallet from his back pocket. They hold their hands out for him to slap two twenty dollar bills down into.

“What’s that?” You ask when you get close enough to them.

“We had a bet that you and Owens would come out of that room together. Well, that one or his. Didn’t matter which.”

“A bet I just lost,” Boone groans, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I thought for sure…”

The rest of the crew snickers, including Tyler, who won’t look at you. You poke a finger into his chest.

“Did you know about this?”

“No, I swear,” he says, hands up, and you don’t know why, but you believe him. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t drunkenly confess to Lily weeks ago that sometimes we, you know…”

You scoff, almost mad, but then Boone shouts and the scoff turns into a snicker because, hey, you love him, but you can’t help but relish in his defeat.

“So they knew?! That’s cheating!”

He storms off while the rest of you laugh, Dani clutching their side and following him around the side of the building to try to make amends, trailing off, “If it makes you feel any better…”

Lily looks over at you, then at Tyler, a grin swallowing her face. “So, are you guys, like, together now? Or something?”

You look up at Tyler, who’s smiling softly at you, clearly deferring to you to answer that question. You feel a surge of affection for him swell in your chest. Clearing your throat, you turn to Lily.

“Or something.”

[cowgurrrl]

Something in the Orange

Pairing: Joel Miller x art teacher!reader

Author's note: this might become a mini series idk idk

Summary: A parent-teacher conference leads to trouble [4.0k]

Warnings: no outbreak! au, teacher things, Ellie being a little loner, Joel the Menace making a return, Joel gets both his daughters in this one because it's what he deserves, flirty flirt, i think that's it???

You feel like you've been running a million miles a minute since you got in this morning. The second you could unlock the door, at least three students spilled into your room and chaotically ran to the kiln to collect their most recent pottery projects. One of them ended up shattering (the exact one you warned Colin about, but he didn't listen), and, as per high school custom, they were all screaming about it. You consoled the students just in time for your principal to walk by and ask about lesson plans which made you scramble through your backpack for your notebook even though you knew damn well there wasn't a single lesson plan in there. "Do you always have those lights on?" Principal Martinez asked, gesturing to the room's fairy lights and orange lamps. Leave it to administration to want to avoid art classrooms so much that they don't even know about the Big Light Philosophy. 

Since then, it's been class after class. You only have one more period before your planning period and then, finally, the end of the day. There are a hundred things to do, but you can't focus on any of them. You got so caught up in managing your classroom and helping students with the hardest parts of their portfolio work that you almost forgot you had a parent meeting scheduled during your planning period. 

Calling in parents for meetings about their children may be your least favorite part of your job. It makes you feel like a bad teacher, and parents usually don't feel great about getting called in on a workday to talk about their kid. Luckily, Ellie's dad, Joel, seemed more than happy to take time to talk about her. You rack your mind for his occupation as you add some detail to a canvas you've been hiding in your office and working on when you can. Was he a blue-collar worker? Or was he another stuck-up Austin transplant parent who's gonna accuse you of lying? He'd make the fifth parent who's made you cry this semester.

A knock on your locked door pulls you from your thoughts, and you quickly put away your painting before answering the door. "I told you she was in here!" One of your students, Dina, announces as she and a posse of three other kids you don't recognize push their way into the room. "Miss, you've gotta take that thing off your door; otherwise, people are gonna think you went home!"

"You mean the sign that says, 'planning period. Do not enter?'" You ask, and she snaps her fingers.

"That's the one." She says as she and her friends start putting their backpacks down at one of your high tables. You sigh and kick the door stopper into the threshold.

"You guys can't stay here. I have a meeting in five minutes."

"With who?"

"None of your business." 

"Miss!" Dina acts wounded, and you cross your arms over your chest, your keys jingling around your neck in the process.

"I am an adult with a college degree and the debt to show for it. You are a teenager with a still-developing brain. You have to listen to me," you say. "Wait, whose class are you supposed to be in right now?"

"Mr. Flynn's."

"Guys!" You groan before walking over to your desk and quickly writing up a hall pass for them. "I know you don't like math-"

"No, we don't like Mr. Flynn." Dina cuts you off.

"Or math!" One of her friends adds, and you shoot them a (loving) disapproving look. 

"Whatever you don't like, you can't keep hiding out here. Mr. Flynn is two seconds away from trying to get me fired for how often I let his kids in here during class, and I actually like this job, so," you rip the hall pass off the pad and hand it to Dina. As they pack their stuff up, a tall, bearded man steps into your classroom and makes eye contact with you. "Out, out, out! I love you. You're gonna change the world one day, but please get out." You blow them kisses as you usher them out of the room. 

"Are you Ellie's art teacher?" He asks, a confused look on his face, and you nod.

"Yes, I am. Sorry about that. They're still figuring out that I have work to get done even when I don't have a class," you explain, a little breathless from running all over the place and getting caught off-guard. You really do try to act a little more professional with parents, but the kids threw you off. The kettle whistling behind your desk doesn't make it any better. "Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Tea?" You pick up a random mug off your desk but find it full of murky water. "Paint water?"

"Are you allowed to have an electric kettle in here?" He asks, and you laugh nervously as you find a clean mug and your tea box. 

"I won't tell if you won't." You say. He stands there awkwardly as you pour yourself some tea, and you realize you didn't pull a chair up for him. "Um, we can sit..." you glance around your messy classroom until you find a clear table and gesture toward it. "Here." He follows your lead, and you take a deep breath as you sit down.

"You gonna be okay?" He asks, the hint of a smirk on his lips. His curly hair looks golden brown in the low light, and his round eyes have a little knowing twinkle. You take another breath to compose yourself and nod. 

"Yes. Sorry. It's been a long day." 

"Don't worry bout it. I'm sure they run you ragged."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Well, you do have paint in your hair." He says, and panic seizes in your chest. You're never more aware of how crazy your job can be until you meet Real Adults. Even if you can't remember what he does for a living, you still have to admit that you look a little silly next to each other: you, with your paint-stained sunflower dress and markered hands, and him, with his black shirt and jeans. He doesn't have any apparent stains or splatters on his clothes, but he's broad with thick biceps. He must work with his hands or something within that capacity. You clear your throat and try to get back on track with the meeting.

"Uh, so Mr. Miller, the reason I called you here today was to talk to you about Ellie," you start. "First, I just wanna say that she is an amazing student. She always does her work and engages thoughtfully with the material. I really do enjoy having her in class." 

"Well, that's certainly good to hear. She talks a whole lot bout this class and you, so... it's nice to place a face to the name," he says, adjusting his position on the stool. "But I have a feelin' you didn't call me down here just to tell me how great my kid is." 

"She is great. She's extremely talented, smart, and funny, but she spends more time in my classroom during lunch than anything else. I'm worried about her making friends and finding a community here at school. I've tried convincing her to join the art club, but she's hesitant. During class, she just sits with her headphones in and draws. She really doesn't like talking to anybody but me." You wait for blame to be assigned to you or get lectured, but it never comes. He just sighs, and he deflates a little in his chair.

"She's been through a lot this year. Well, her whole life, really, but 'specially recently," he says dejectedly. "What can I do for her?"

"There's an art show this Friday night here at the school. It'll all be student work from across the district. I thought if maybe you or... whatever adults she has at home came with her to this, she might feel more comfortable talking to her peers or even want to submit some of her own stuff."

"We can do that. I'll get off work early and ask her uncle if he wants to come," he's quick with his solution, and you're a little shocked. You rarely get parents, let alone fathers, who act this swiftly when something is going on with their kids. "Is there anythin' else goin' on that I should know bout?" 

"Uh, no. Like I said, she's a great kid. You should be really proud." You say, and the concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears with a proud smile. 

"Thank you," he mumbles, suddenly shy. "And thanks for carin' so much bout her. It's nice to know she's got someone lookin' out for her here." You don't know what to say, so you just nod and stare at him. You know, like an idiot. It takes a chuckle from him to snap you out of your thoughts, and blood rushes to your cheeks.

"Yes, of course. She's a good kid." You say. 

"You said that already." 

"I bet you'd be a little scatterbrained if you were at the mercy of two hundred teenagers all day."

"You're absolutely right. I would be," he says, smirking devastatingly. "Someone ought to get you a coffee or somethin' if you're dealing with all that." 

"People like you should go argue with the school board. I'm sure you'd be popular with all the teachers." 

"That'd be a first. I think I might've been the least favorite parent for all of my girls' teachers." 

"Well, I find that hard to believe." 

"Yeah?" He asks, leaning forward just a little, and you nod, smiling. Your brain struggles to come up with something to say, and you're a little embarrassed at your silence, but luckily, your projector saves the day by buzzing loudly and making the picture on the board cut in and out. You mumble a quick apology before getting up and climbing up on a desk to jiggle a piece back into place. You hear Joel curse behind you, and when you turn to see what the problem is, you see him holding his arms out behind you. "Do you stand on desks often?" 

"Only every day. I haven't fallen yet this year." You laugh at his exasperated expression and turn back to the projector. It's still making a weird noise, so you move it around a little more, moving the desk under your feet, and Joel stabilizes it with a sigh. 

"How long has it been doin' that?" 

"Couple months. I keep putting in maintenance requests, but nobody ever comes to fix it."

"I can fix it for ya," he says simply, and you look down at him. "I've got tools in my truck. It wouldn't take long at all."

"Really?" You ask, and he nods. 

"It'd make me feel better knowin' you're not almost breakin' your neck every day."

"You mean, standing on a decades-old desk to mess with an ancient piece of equipment isn't OSHA compliant?"

"Please," he says, grabbing your ankle when the desk wobbles under you, and you laugh at his worry. "Let me fix it for you before you give me a heart attack." You think about declining and just putting in another work order, but the likelihood that anyone would actually come and fix it is slim to none. Plus, you really shouldn't be climbing on top of desks every day. You pretend to think it over for a few more seconds just to watch the worry play across his features as his grip on your ankle gets tighter.

"Only if you really mean it." 

"I really mean it," he says, offering you his other hand. "Now, would you please get down?"

"Fine." You say and take his hand. You bend to safely get yourself down, but Joel moves his other hand from your ankle to your waist and basically hoists you to the ground. Once your feet touch the floor, he doesn't let you go immediately like he's trying to figure out if you somehow got hurt when he wasn't looking. There's a part of your brain that's aware of how inappropriate this would look to any passersby, but you're also highly aware of how warm his big hand is on your hip. 

"Ya alright?" He asks softly, and you nod, taking a conscious step back from his arms.

"Yes, thank you."

"Good," he says, also taking a step back. "Let me go get my tools, and I'll get that fixed for you." 

"Perfect. I'll be here." You stand there, staring at each other awkwardly, for another moment before he turns on his heels and walks out of the classroom. The second he's out of your line of sight, you bury your head in your hands and start silently freaking out. 

What the fuck are you doing? How did a parent-teacher meeting turn into him hauling you off a desk and offering to fix your projector? Technically, nothing incriminating has happened, and it needs to stay that way. It doesn't matter if you think he's attractive or like how he worries about everything. He's Ellie's dad. Teachers have gotten fired for much less than this, and you're not willing to risk your career because of one guy. 

When he gets back with his toolbox, you're sitting at your desk and sorting through assignments like a reasonable adult. He doesn't say anything as he climbs up on the same desk you were standing on and begins messing with the mechanics of the equipment. You each work in silence for a few minutes before a screw clatters to the ground, and he grumbles something under his breath. "Do you mind..." he starts, pointing toward the lost piece. 

"Not at all." You cover your anxiety with your chipper teacher voice and search for the screw with your phone flashlight. You find it tucked between canvases, carefully pick it up, and walk over to where he's standing, waiting for him to be ready for it.

"It looks like it's just an old piece in here. I'm sure you can order a new one, and I can come back and install it if ya want," he explains, looking down at you. You probably look stupid just standing there with a tiny screw in your hand, but he doesn't laugh. "D'you mind handing me that tool to your right?" He asks, and you blindly reach for the tool you think he's talking about. "Your other right." He corrects, and you flush in embarrassment. 

"Sorry. I never was a very good woodshop student." You say, and he laughs once he has the tool in hand. 

"My girls are the same way. Just askin' ‘em to hold a flashlight while I work on their car is like pullin' teeth," he says fondly. "Speaking of which, is there a reason the lights aren't on in here?"

"The lamp light is less harsh, and it helps students focus. Plus, nobody likes coming into a bright classroom first thing in the morning." You explain, and he hums.

"If I'd had a teacher like you growing up, I would've been at school much more than I was."

"You didn't like school?"

"Hated it," he says, opening his hand for the screw. Once you drop the tiny thing into his large palm, he straightens up, and you can barely hear it going back into its rightful place. "'S a miracle I graduated." 

"That was me in college." 

"Now, I don't believe that for a second." 

"Really?" You laugh, and he nods.

"Someone like you, with your pretty dresses and all that empathy, was meant to be a teacher." 

"I wasn't always like this," you evade the compliment despite the butterflies in your stomach. "Being a teacher was never on my radar until I graduated. A lot of my life was never on my radar until then." He puts the hood of the projector back on and climbs down from the desk until he's standing in front of you again, wiping his hands on a red handkerchief from his toolbox. 

"Well, with the way you carry yourself, I never woulda guessed." He says. He opens his mouth to say something more, but the sharp tone of the bell ringing cuts him off. You jump at the sound and look at the clock as if it were wrong. 

"I'm so sorry. Time must've gotten away from me. Thank you so much again, Mr. Miller, for coming in to talk with me and looking at the projector. I hope to see you and Ellie on Friday." You say quickly as the sound of rowdy kids fills the hallway, and you hold your hand out to him. He takes it and squeezes it firmly.

"You can call me Joel. Mr. Miller makes me feel old." He says, and you smile. He doesn't look old, unlike the other dads you've encountered. Sure, he's got some gray at his temples and in his beard, but it suits him. 

"Joel, it is then." You resolve. His hand lingers in yours for a little too long before finally pulling away. "Well, Joel, unless you want to elbow through teenagers, I'd suggest you hide out here for a few more minutes." He does happily, even helping you carry supplies to your car once the hallways have cleared out enough. He's a proper gentleman, slinging your backpack over his shoulder and opening doors for you. You part only once everything is in your trunk, and he bids you goodnight with a charming smile that fills your thoughts on your drive home.

Ellie surprises you the next day as you're setting up the classroom. Normally, she isn't in until right before the bell rings, so seeing her this early is a little bit of a shock. The ink staining her hands is not. "Hey, dude. What's going on?" You ask. "Did you get breakfast from the cafeteria today? I heard Mrs. Hodges has those French toast sticks that everyone loves. You can probably get two servings if you run." 

"No, I already ate. My dad and uncle had to leave early this morning, so we got breakfast. Speaking of which," she says as she takes off her backpack and pulls a cup of iced coffee out of her water bottle pocket. "This is for you. We didn't know what you liked, so we got a vanilla latte or something." 

"Oh, El! You didn't have to do that. Thank you, honey." You say, and she sets it on your desk for you to enjoy once you don't have paintbrushes in hand. "If this is your way of getting a good grade on your piece, I already told you that you have nothing to worry about."

"It wasn't my idea. It was my dad's." She says nonchalantly before moving to the back of the classroom to get her sketch book. You, however, are confused and secretly pleased that Joel thought of you when he didn't have to. You find a message scribbled on the side when you reach for the cup to take a sip. 

Thanks again. See you Friday. -J

You turn to hide your smile from Ellie, but she's so deep in her work that you doubt she would've noticed anyway. You put some music on, and you and Ellie work silently on your projects until the bell rings and the day starts. 

The rest of the week goes by without a hitch, meaning that nobody accidentally ingested paint, and you only had to have one Come to Jesus talk with your Art 1 class. When Friday night rolls around, you're excited to see all the students work and treat yourself by wearing a new shirt with black scribbles all over it and black dress pants. You figure you should look as art teachery as possible for an art teacher event. 

By the time you get to the school, the hallways are buzzing with students dragging their parents from one piece to another and administrators praising their art programs even though you know not one of them has seen the inside of an art classroom in months. You make small talk with some of your students and their parents before finding a way out of the conversation and letting yourself wander through the makeshift gallery. You love your kids, but you really don't want them breathing down your neck as you look at all the art. You're almost at the end when you hear a familiar voice calling your name, and you turn to find Ellie walking toward you with Joel and, who you assume to be her uncle, next to her. 

"Hey, kid! I'm so happy to see you here!" You say sincerely, and she smiles shyly. You turn to her uncle and hold your hand out to introduce yourself. 

"Tommy. We sure have heard a whole lot bout you at home." He says with a smirk, and you laugh. 

"All good things, I hope."

"Of course. Ellie just bout worships the ground you walk on," he says. "Joel was singin' your praises, too." 

"Alright, I think that's enough. Why don't y'all go walk around, and I'll catch up with ya?" He suggests, and Tommy chuckles. Another teacher calls Ellie's name from down the hallway, and she's quick to drag Tommy off to meet him, leaving you and Joel alone. He's replaced his black shirt with a light blue dress shirt, and it looks like he's recently trimmed his beard. He looks nice.

"Singing praises, huh?" You raise your eyebrows at him, and he smiles sheepishly. "Thank you for the coffee the other morning, by the way. It was a really nice surprise." 

"Figured it was the least I could do to thank you for takin' such good care of my girl." 

"Well, thank you. I owe you." 

"You don't owe me a thing," he says. "Although, Tommy was a little upset that I didn't bill you for lookin' at the projector." 

"Was he?" You ask, and he nods.

"Oh, yeah," he laughs. "Said next time I should, at least, ask you on a date."

"Mr. Miller-"

"I thought you agreed to call me Joel." He raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge, and you shake your head, fighting a smile.

"Joel, while I'm flattered by the offer from someone so handsome-"

"You think I'm handsome?"

"I can't date my students' parents." You say, ignoring his question, but even then, the playful look on his face doesn't fade. "Well, I can leave you to it. I know Ellie will probably want to show you around." 

"Right. Of course," he says. "It's really nice to see you."

"You, too. I'm just glad I didn't have paint in my hair this time."

"I don't know. I thought it was kinda cute." You feel yourself blush at his words, but you have to shut it down before it can become anything more than flattery. You take a deep breath and try not to let that stupid smirk weaken your knees as he watches you.

"Goodnight, Joel."

"Goodnight, ma'am." He says, tipping his head politely before sauntering down the hallway like he owns the place. Trouble, you think to yourself. But you can handle trouble. It's in your job description, for Christ's sake. 

So, you brush off the flirting and try to ignore how his kindness and sweet words made you feel. You absolutely cannot flirt with the parent of one of your students. Dating is completely off the table. You can handle this like an adult. You have to. 

After a cold shower and a leftover dinner, you check your email once more before going to bed that night. Sitting in your inbox with alarming clarity is an email from Ellie with the subject line: Art Club. Her email is somehow just as short as her subject line. 

Simply, "When can I start -E." 

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

[causenessus]

love notes

part 0.2. BACKSTABBING BITCH

“can i see you tonight? can i see you tomorrow? i want to be your friend. i wanna be more than that. will you love me tomorrow?”

from can i see you tonight? by eyedress, left at calmaart, sakai

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . present day. ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

i'm sorry i feel like the pacing of everything is a little convoluted,, there's not really a lot of timeskips. basically everything after this chapter is also in present day but i just wanted to make that clear <3 and hopefully the intros really clarifies how everyone's relationships changed, for example suna and y/n going from never talking to hanging out more <3

calmaart is a place in japan for street art supplies and clothing with a legal graffiti wall <3

IF YOU WERE HERE FOR THAT STUPID POLL I DID OVER "A" OR "MY" WHERE "MY" WON BUT I CHOSE "A" ANYWAY AND HAD AN ENTIRE CRISIS OVER IT THAT WAS FOR THIS CHAPTER (suna's "you're an angel") BUT THEN THIS ALSO LED TO ONE OF MY FIRST INTERACTIONS WITH @froyaoya WHO HELPED ME THRU THAT ENTIRE CRISIS SO IT WAS A GOOD THING IN THE END IG <3

both y/n and suna are typically people that use their priv accounts for the majority of their tweets. yn uses her public account for mostly photography to maintain an image of professionalism and suna mainly uses his public account for pictures of art and volleyball related things

suna is on yn's private because she lets all of her close friends onto it but she isn't on suna's because he told her it's mainly just the volleyball boys cursing each other out (which is true but most of all he was just scared to have her on it in case he tweeted about her)

y/n definitely skips school to have more available openings in her schedule for photography bookings

whenever she's taking pictures of a couple and they're not looking, she'll take a picture of them and send it to a groupchat with akaashi and kenma and ask if they think the couple's gonna make it or not

they'll spend hours analyzing the red and green flags

omi's the captain of the msby vball team BC I SAID SO

suna asked if he could leave practice early "to study for a test"

they have the same major and omi was like "we don't have an upcoming test."

suna played it off as retaking a previous test he hadn't done well on and omi could no longer be bothered and let him go

suna often stays until closing when he visits y/n at work and will walk her home <3

atsumu and oikawa work together well but in the beginning they had a bit of a rivalry, both being well known setters and they've just kind of continued to be slightly passive aggressive towards each other but get along for the most part

atsumu was locked in the bathroom for an hour until bokuto asked oikawa if they could let him out so he could shower

also not sure if i've said this but everyone is in their second year of college (not super important but just to avoid future plot holes)

taglist: @0moonii @iluvmang @bluebeanbee @wyrcan @oyasumeii @gyuijns @nbcvs @milkteade @eggyrocks @guitarstringed-scars @makkir0ll @mylahrins @cherrypieyourface @vivian-555 @sharkerino @r0seandth0rns @staileykout @lunavixia @thvvluvr @elliott0o0 @wolffmaiden @rockleeisbaeeee @toges-cough-syrup @cnnmairoll @ryeyeyer @hibernatinghamster @localgaytrainwreck @lemonocity @bows4life @sereniteav @madiexuberant @eclecticeggknightpsychic @phoenix-eclipses @sonicsolos @httpakkeiji @brkfclub @snail-squasher @starry-magicshop @cr4yolaas @kitnootkat @zzzlevislothzzz @iluv-ace @iluvaquaphor @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @applepi25 @twiishaa @girlkissersco @sleepystrwbrryy @encrypta

[yooglefics]

The casual type: 01 . The blind date

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader  Wordcount: 2,888 words Genre ( for the whole series ): AU. College!verse. Strangers to friends with benefits to ?????. Eventual smut. Hurt / comfort at times. And fuff for cute friends. Summary: Hobi and his girlfriend set you up with a friend of hers to help with whatever happened months back. However no one really expected things to end the way they did.

Warnings ( for this chapter ): Setting things up for plot purposes. Gridding? Mentions of a boner. Making out.  Author's note: So, I wanted to write some friends with benefits thing, plus a bunch of art kids… and this came out ┐( • ֊ • )┌ . I should note here I took the creative liberty to play around with their ages so everyone is in college at the same time, and if you haven't, you can check the presentation post and learn a little bit more about them. Now let's start, hope you like it! If you do you can reblog, like, comment, send an ask, follow and what not. Thank you for reading <3

The place is quieter than the last time you were here, you realize, is earlier in the day and the semester just started after all, meaning students are still moving in from their home cities. And although you want to be mad at him, you can't really blame Hoseok's choice of place for a date, instead, you're already thinking of ways to be able to escape the awkwardness of it all.

Of course, he and Mai don't have to worry about that. Is not their first date and considering they're both dance students it actually makes sense for them to be in a club on a friday night. Is their element, unlike yours, who hasn't left their room for the last couple of weeks if it's not to go art-supply shopping and will spend even weekends far away from a place like this.

But you couldn't say no. Not to Hobi. Not after he held you tight that night and didn't pray for an explanation.

He had come up with his own conclusions, though, and that's how you ended here. On a double date with Mai and her friend who you don't even know, so... Yay! Blind date added to the mix of reasons why you already want the night to end.

"You made it!" Mai greats when the both of you get closer to the bar, standing up to hug you first and then her boyfriend. "We ordered something while waiting."

Your friend nods at the explanation, "What do you want?" He asks in your direction and you settle for a fruity cocktail to not look too out of place with everyone else drinking. Mai insists on going with Hobi and he insists you stay, so, a bit awkwardly, you take the stool besides your date.

"Yoongi, by the way." The guy simply introduces himself before taking a sip of his drink.

"Y/n" short, overthinking if bowing is too formal until you decide is too long of a pause and it would only make it more awkward. In the end, a soft smile is your decision.

"They look cute together," you say looking at your friends, trying to break the silence that has fallen between.

"Listen," Yoongi begins, and your head turns to him, "I'm only here because she asked, so if you're expecting something like that, let's just leave."

"Like that?" Brows slightly closer, "a cute relationship?"

"A relationship in general. I don't do those."

"Oh..."

And before you can say anything else, Hobi is placing a glass in front of you, smiling reassuringly. "You'd be okay if I go dance now?"

A pause and then a nod is the answer. Not having any intentions of spoiling their night.

"Don't worry. Yoongi," Mai turns to him, a serious expression on her soft features, "you better take care of her, alright?"

He salutes, earning a smile from the couple and they walk to the dance floor hand in hand. You watch them make some silly moves at first and giggle, but it doesn't take long before they start to follow the beat and match it with their movements.

"I don't want a relationship either," you clarify, tone assertive, still looking at the couple with a smile.

He laughs, "I'm sorry, but that's hard to believe."

"Why?"

"Look at me and tell me you didn't just imagine yourself with someone on that dance floor."

You turn to him, brown eyes inspecting yours, "Well, yes. But that doesn't mean I want it to happen with someone I'm in a relationship with."

Again, he laughs. Clearly not believing you.

"What? People do casual things all the time," you defend, straightening your back and looking away.

"You do 'casual things'?" His eyebrows raise, "all the time?"

"Shut up, you don't know me."

"That's a no," no need to look at him to know there's a smirk playing on his lips.

"Who are you? Some kind of hook up police or something?" You want to take it back as soon as it leaves your mouth, cringing.

"Are you gonna show me your license?" but he is faster.

"Okay, that was more lame than what I said," you laugh. Maybe he is not as grumpy as he seems. And maybe, just maybe, you would be able to enjoy the night after all. 

If he doesn't want a relationship either, then you don't have to deal with rejecting him or being forced to accept a second date just because you're too kind to say no. That's good.

"Yoongi, hey!" A guy calls out and for a split second your date's expression changes to a surprise one before a polite smile takes place on his face. "Oh, hi. Sorry for interrupting, haven't seen him in months."

"Is alright," you play along even when not understanding.

"I guess he has been busy with yo—"

"Jay," Yoongi's tone is serious, like the one he used to say he doesn't do relationships. However, before he can continue or you are able to clarify that you two just meet, Jay is calling someone over.

"Look who I found, love. Yoongi!"

A redhead girl repeats Yoongi's early expression and you wonder two things about Jay. One: if he always has that effect on people. And two: if he is even more clueless than you in this whole situation, since his smile never falls.

"Hi," the redhead says and Yoongi greets back just as plain.

Are you really imagining the awkwardness? Perhaps you were wrong and in the end you should put one of your plans to avoid it into place?

A few seconds of thinking go by, no one says anything and you could swear the tension is filling the air around your new  group.

"Oh, that's the song!" Fake excitement in your voice tricks everyone into looking at you. "I promise, remember? If it comes on, we'll dance."

Yoongi looks confused for a second, but it doesn't take him long to finally understand, "right, the song. Sorry guys, been waiting all night."

Jay dismisses him smiling with a pat on the back, saying something about not breaking promises and Yoongi takes your hand.

Looking around, you try to find your friends, hoping to copy Mai's moves and keep up with the plan even when you're a self proclaimed not dancer. But they aren't in sight and even if you can't really prove it since your back is facing them, you feel like Jay's and the girl's eyes are on you.

Ugh. Why did you use this plan?

Why was this something you even thought about?

When Yoongi stops and positions himself in front of you, you get closer, sliding an arm on top of his shoulders pretending you're positioning yourself to dance, copying the random couple beside you.

"I don't know what I'm doing," you confess in a whisper.

"What do you mean?” He looks for your eyes, hair strain coming out of place when his head lowers a little, "you want to go back and sit down?"

"No, then they would know I lied," you're still trying to figure out why in the first place and don't need the embarrassment too, "but I don't know how to dance."

He chuckles, "here, I'll help." And holds your hips softly, moving them to the beat of the song, matching your movements with his own. "Relax. Don't think too much about it."

"If I don't, how do I know how to move?" It doesn't make sense and is a bit frustrating, honestly.

"Is not a dance competition, or the grant ball, princess. Just do what feels right."

He catches you looking at your feet and brings you closer, eliminating the gap between your bodies completely. "Don't do that," one of his hands travels to the small of your back, keeping you in place.

"Sorry," you say against his neck. Not intentionally, but because of your height difference, there's no other option. In an effort to not be so dependent on him, both your arms move around his neck and you try to move your hips in a way that in the end doesn't match his movements completely, causing you to bum into his front. He makes a sound that you assume is a complaint at your skills and another apology rolls through your lips.

"Turn around," Yoongi commands, applying pressure to one side of your hip.

You comply, confused even when you feel his hands on your waist. "Well, I'm going to assume you been fucked before, miss casual all the time," with his chest against your back, you can feel his laugh. "Open your legs a little," one of his feets kicks gently between yours, fixing your stand. "You want to lead or should I?"

"...You." Is the safest, you decide. Your turn to assume he surpasses your experience at that too.

“Some describe dancing like a good fuck," he explains, hands softly making their way a bit lower to your hips, "because you have to learn your partner. Find a rhythm together." His movements start slow, moving your body with his from side to side, with small circles of the hips.

Your hands fall on top of his, not knowing what else to do with them. They're soft, which for some reason is unexpected.

"I have dancer friends and they never described it like that..."

"Not to you, probably," he laughs and when you stop the movements to throw an angry look his way — because you're pretty sure that's some kind of insult,— he chuckles, before continuing the swaying of your hips. "Calm down, princess. I meant, they probably just weren't teaching you this kind of dance."

And that makes sense. You can't imagine dancing with your friends like this. You can barely believe you're doing it with a stranger.

Your shyness must have shown, because his next question is why did you even choose this song.

"I was trying to help and get you away from whatever that was," you lift your head, eyes away from your feet and the color lights projecting on the floor, and sure enough, behind red bangs, the girl is looking in your direction.

Your hips halt.

Yoongi catches up a bit too late, bumping his pelvis into you.

"What ar—"

"She is looking." Cutting him off, you want to hide as if you were the one caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. So, you try to turn around on his arms but his hold is firm.

A new song starts, the rhythm not much different.

"Help me with another song?"

You try again, this time using your hands on top of his to soften the grip. He gives in. And after a look at his face, you nod.

You can decide if it's sadness or anger that you see, not knowing him well enough to tell — or at all, to be honest — but either way, there's a part of you that can relate. One for each emotion.

Throwing your hair back, letting all black strands fall over your back, your arms go back over his shoulders, this time your chest flush against him a little more than last.

Yoongi says thanks and you kiss his cheek as his hands hold you again. His movements are more determined and even his fingers form dents over the fabric of your dress.

Assuming his demeanor changed only for the specific viewer doesn't sound too crazy, and you want to confirm the theory by looking at his face, see if he is looking behind you at her. Your eyes travel against the direction the few sweat drops over his skin go, and when they reach Yoongi's, he is looking back at you.

Your body stops.

"Fuck" he whispers when the front of his pelvis bumps yours. "You really need to stop doing that."

"Sorry. Told you I can't dance."

He chuckles.

Your bottom lip forms a small pout. "Don't be mean. I'm trying to help you, remember?" And you initiate the movements again, starting to get the hang of it. Kind of.

"You're not much help right now if you keep making me dry hump into you," this time he is the one stopping, making it so you bump into his front and you can feel the outline of his growing erection.

"Yoo—"

"Exactly," he says so matter of fact, "you're the mean one."

Lowering your head, you try to not think too much about it. It doesn't make you want to run away or kick him, but you also don't want to make him feel like kicking you away. You keep repeating to yourself that is normal with this type of dance, that there's probably more than one hard on at the club right now and how you're probably not the only one who is getting we—

Damn it. Just stop thinking about it.

Yoongi stops your body from moving, and when you realize he has been calling your name, you're even more embarrassed by your thoughts.

"I'm sorry. That was too much, I shouldn't have. We can go sit now." His eyes are looking straight at you, letting you know he's being sincere.

"I need some air."

Without even bothering to wait for a confirmation that he is following or not, you make your way to the side door of the club. The autumn breeze hits your skin as soon as you step into the alley, instantly calming your hormones down.

Hands cover your face in shame after reclining on the wall. Can you stop acting like it was the first time you felt a penies? Because even if it hasn't happened in a while, it doesn't mean the score goes back to zero.

"Should I bring Hoseok?" Yoongi asks a few steps in front of you and you jump a little, shaking your head after.

"I'm good. You can go back in."

"I'm not leaving you alone here. Do you want him or Mai to kill me?"

A small chuckle leaves your throat and one from him follows it.

"And you think he wouldn't kill you for—" stop. You can't think about it.

"For dancing like that with you? Probably. But he also set this date up, so..." Out of the corner of your eye you can see him shrug, "can't complain unless you hate me now."

"I don't hate you."

"Is okay if you do."

"It… it just surprised me."

"In a bad or good way?"

"A good one." You answer directly in a strain of honesty.

"So you're not really the casual type, uh?" He teases after a couple seconds of silence.

"Maybe I just don't like doing casual in the middle of the club," you defend.

"I don't know, you were the one that kept humping into me."

Your mouth opens and closes, finally looking at him and his stupid lips pull up in a smirk. You want to erase it so bad.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

And you do.

Skipping forward, right hand flying to the back of his neck to pull him in and you're able to touch his lips with yours.

He is quick to react. Kissing you back, his hands on either side of your waist pulling your body into his. But you're trying to prove a point, to defend yourself. So, you pull away slightly, making sure your lips are just about to touch.

He pulls in.

Allowing just a peck, you move.

You kind of regret not using your cherry lip gloss, because you know for sure that knowing you're so close for him to smell it but not taste it, would be the biggest tease.

You let him lean in again, not moving this time and he sighs. You smile against his lips just before his tongue asks for permission to enter your mouth. Again, you regret your simple choice of a simple red lip tint, but remind yourself that this date wasn't supposed to go like this. That Yoongi doesn't seem like the guy he was supposed to be, not what he was advertised by your friends.

Fighting back control, your left arm joins the other around his neck, moving your lips expertly and feeling his chest rise and fall quickly against yours. Is pretty much the position you were in on the dance floor minus the grinding.

Casual in the middle of the club is not your thing. Casual in general is actually not something you have experience with. But kissing? You've mastered it thanks to your past relationships and the avoidance of jumping into someone's bed right from the start.

A moan vibrates through your lips against Yoongi's, and even if it's part of the routine, you must admit is pretty real. A soft groan is his answer and the cue for your heels to touch the floor again. His hold tightens in reaction, making your dress rise up and covering a couple inches less of your thighs. Suddenly you're aware of the wind again as a breeze runs up your legs, towards the center of your panties.

Your breath caughts on your throat and Yoongi swallows any sounds before pulling away.

"Fuck," he breaths heavily, "we've to stop."

"Why? Are you not really the casual type?" You tease, stealing his line.

The left corner of his mouth lifts, before falling again in a millisecond. "Not with you."

Should I’ve added “cliffhanger” to the warnings? haha i swear is gonna be okayyyy ♡ Tag list: @n33mesis , @mggv97 , @wobblewobble822 , @bbou-doir , @m00njinnie , @nariee02 , @sexytholland . hope you guys like this one <3

➪ The squad. | ➪ 02 | ➪ Updates for this verse ➪ Ko-fi | ➪ ♡ Tag list info ➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats

[wlfchnlv3r]

Heyyy I saw your requests are open! Would you write about teacher and student? I know many people don't like to write about that, that's why I'm asking. Hope you have a great dayyy🫶🫶

I’m not comfortable writing about big age gap, so i just thought about making a fic where he is a new college teacher (around 26 years old) and the reader is NOT A MINOR, so she is an ADULT therefor she is +18 (I’m European you can imagine her being +21 if you feel more comfortable).

Right person wrong time

Studen!Fem Reader x Art teacher!Hyunjin

Synopsis: Hyunjin is your college art teacher… or maybe was?

Word count: 1k

Wearing: none

Note: please like i said over here, THE READER IS NOT A MINOR, so please don’t come at me :) enjoy lovely people ✨

Hyunjin was your art teacher… your young and gorgeous art teacher, he had moved to your university a year ago, and since then he just had eyes for you.

You two started talking after classes and even exchanged numbers… it was wrong but you couldn’t help it.

As months passed, one thing led to another, you guys started dating and everything seems perfect until one day of May, which you remember as one of the worst days of your life.

Hyunjin called you after his class into his office, and you both started arguing because of your “relationship”, you just wanted to be with him, but he said your whole story was wrong.

It was the first and only time he yelled at you, “we can’t be together! Why can’t you understand it?!!” Hyunjin shouted at you before leaning down on his chair.

You were taken aback and just watched him in silence.

"You dont understand! We can't be together because I can lose my job… you're my student... and-“ he said and looked at you while his head was on his hand. He was in pain as he placed a hand on his forehead before continuing “I'm a teacher and you're a student.. and I know we both have feelings for each other... but- this relationship cannot… exist” he mumbled and looked away while his heart was hurting like hell.

You were hurt, everything was… falling apart, your relationship, your plans and everything you two have shared.

You tried to talk back but all that came out from your mouth was a whisper “what?…”.

Hyunjin looked at you again and leaned more on his chair, covering his face with his hands, clearly frustrated.

"It doesn't matter if I like you... We can't date because I'm a Goddamn teacher, y/n, I will lose my job if someone finds out, and you're- you are my student..." he let out a long sigh as he started to watch some papers to distract himself from what was going on.

You stayed silent for a few moments, before speaking with a low tone “it’s- ok” you just wanted to go home and cry.

He slowly placed his hands down on his lap and looked up at you, his face expressing the pain he was feeling “You... you really understand it..?" Hyunjin asked in a quiet voice, almost surprised.

You started to feel a mixture of pain and anger, what he was saying was right, you understood it, you weren’t stupid or something, “I’m not dumb but- damn you knew it! You knew it from the start and you didn’t stop. You didn’t even stop me from feeling something for you.” your voice started to raise involuntarily.

He took a deep breath, his expression turning to guilt “I know, I should've never.. I knew it from the start...” Hyunjin mumbled to himself, his eyes avoiding yours, as he fiddled with his fingers, clearly frustrated with himself.

"I know, I should’ve just ignore my feelings for you and stay professional.." He finally spoke while throwing some paperwork on his desk, his head hurt like hell, and he felt like he was going to throw up.

He looked down, guilt and pain written on his face "But i .. I couldn't.. I just couldn't keep it in.." He almost whispered.

He knew it was wrong to develop feelings for a student. He should've stayed professional in the first place. But it was too hard to hold it in.

You were starting to shake but you just took a breath before nodding.

Hyunjin looked at you again, his eyes filled with pain and contrasting emotions "It's not that I don't want to date you... I do... I really do.." he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours "But it's just... it's just.. impossible... and wrong” he finished.

You wanted to go home, or just leave in general because it was becoming too much to handle “i- i have to go” you said.

Hyunjin's expression changed drastically as you said that you have to go, and he quickly stood up from his chair and walked to you, not wanting you leave. “Wait- just... don't go.." he said desperately, grabbing your wrist to stop you, not letting you leave.

He held onto your wrist tightly, his eyes filled with pain. "Please... please, stay... I-" Hyunjin took a deep breath, his voice cracking a bit "I don't... want you to go.. not yet.." His hand was holding your wrist firmly.

You let out a shaky breath “you said it clear and i understand- now i wanna go home” you were trying so hard not to cry.

He let out an unsteady breath, his eyes watering up a bit, but he knew he had to let you go. But it was so hard to.

He slowly released his grip on your wrist, but his hand lingered over yours for a moment, before pulling away. "O-okay... okay.. go.." Hyunjin said in a quiet whisper, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he was hurting more and more.

You nodded and for the last time left his office.

Once you were gone, Hyunjin couldn't hold it anymore. He leaned his back against the closed door, and slide down until he hit the floor. He placed his head on his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks, as he silently cursed himself for being so weak for you. He desperately wanted to hold onto you and never let you go. But he just couldn't "Goddammit...".

After a week of not showing up to the lessons you change degree program and just start to ignore his existence, just like he did.

5 years after college (present)

You are walking with your boyfriend in an art gallery, it’s so crowded and you cant help but bump into someone.

“My fault, sorry” you hear a familiar voice and look up before meeting his gaze.

You just stay silent for a moment, a lot of emotions going on inside your head, it’s him.

You boyfriend approaches the man and, the one you think is his girlfriend, “sorry man”

You remain silent like the person you hit a few seconds ago.

Finally your boyfriend breaks the ice “did you two know each other?” At those words you just snap out your mind “no- uhm…nice to meet you, I’m y/n” you fake a smile.

“Hyunjin and this is Kayl… have we-“ Hyunjin stops confused by your words “- met before?” He finally finishes.

“no- I don’t think so…” you lie.

Taglist: @felixleftchickennugget @kiwininja35 @sweetpickledjins @slmnheart @elqivxstxr @catffeinexo-xx @multistancheck @justwonder113 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @hello-stranger24 @raptorbait529 @cocofia143 @minniesverse @eastjonowhere

(Comment to be added to the tag list🎐)

[izudeeilo]

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You can study me

Sero hanta smau

volley-ball player sero x art student fem!reader, no quirks au, college au.

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Senior year is finally here! You thought that this time, the teachers would be more lenient with you and your classmates, but not at all. In fact, they even got stricter... They assigned you a half year-long work, which would be worth 30% of your final grade. What does the work consist of, you ask? Making a complete study of the life of a student you need to pick and paint it.

But... you can't pick a friend.

Part .4 • Part .6

Part 5

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All of a sudden you see Eijirou get up and pick up his things quickly, startling you.

”Sorry I need to go right now, thanks for your help! i forgot i needed to be somewhere” he chuckles apologetically.

”It’s alright, let me at least accompany you! What’s happening today?” you ask as you pick your things and shove them into your bag before following him.

”I completely forgot we had a match in another city and the bus is leaving in 10 minutes. The others are already waiting for me” he says, speeding up his pace and you do your best to keep up.

”Oh right! Hanta told me about it. I didn't know it was today, shit you better get here quickly, you want to run?” you offer as you chuckle.

”If it doesn't bother you, sure!” he laughs and the two of you begin running in the direction of the gymnasium where the bus was parked.

You were able to get there in only three minutes thankfully. You both stop and try to catch your breath.

”We’re…here— I’m here!” Eijirou pants, hand on his chest.”I lost track of time…”

”At least you’re here now come on, get inside” the coach points to the bus with a nod of his head.

Hanta smiles and you make your way to him.

”Good luck on your match”

“I would have more luck if my lucky charm was cheering me on” Hanta replies with a grin.

“Oh yeah? Is that what I am now..” you poke his chest.

Hanta shrugged his shoulders playfully.

“Mmh” he nods. “Do you have anything better to do today?” he leans on the bus.

You sigh knowing that you did in fact have nothing else to do besides staying on campus to study or just go home. So if you had to choose, you’d rather stay with him.

”If it’s fine with your coach then yeah” you nod.

”Oh you don’t have to worry about that” he guides you inside the bus and you both sit next to each other while the others sit behind and next to you as you all enjoy the rest of the ride in a joyful atmosphere.

The whole entire time you and Hanta were glued to each other, shoulders always touching. You swore you felt his hand brush yours a few times and that made your stomach turn.

This was getting so frustrating, you didn't want to admit it out loud because if you did you would realize that these…feelings were actually true and they couldn’t be true right?

Was what you felt for him truly more than friendship, wasn’t it going to ruin everything between you two if he knew?

Hanta was just so funny and charming, he always made your day a whole lot brighter. He always knew the right words to say when you were feeling down. All the little gestures he does for and my god was he good looking…

His gorgeous brown eyes that made you weak in the knees whenever he looked at you—

“You alright?” you felt someone’s hand land on your arm, it was Hanta.

”Oh yeah yeah sorry!” you snap out of your trance looking down at your cards trying to stop the blush from rising more to your cheeks.

This was so embarrassing why did you space out in the middle of the game to think about that.

”You’ve been more lost in your thoughts than usual Y/n, is there something on your mind” Mina asks you with a knowing grin on her face.

“Nothing, nothing at all” you say almost too defensive, causing the others to look at you with a confused face before laughing.

“Suuure” Denki says putting down his card and yelling “UNO”

”Oh come on…” everyone sighs in defeat and you chuckle. You realized you really need to talk to your best friends.

When you arrived, the other team was already here and they were looking quite determined.

You sat on a bench next to Mina who said you were “assisting” her in her manager duties. The court was way bigger up close and the height of the roof was really impressive. It made everything look so much bigger.

The boys were stretching a bit further away and practicing together before the match began. There weren’t a lot of people watching since this was only a friendly match between two schools and yet you hoped the boys would win this.

As they began the first set, everything was going smoothly and at the end, they won. The second set came and was a bit more challenging and the opposite team won.

After the referee whistled for the break the coach had demanded, they came back panting, sweat forming at the back of their necks.

You hand them out their towels and bottles with an encouraging smile.

”You all are doing great, you’re going to win this”

The boys all stare at me and grin, Eijirou and Denki hugging me with one arm wrapped around my shoulder.

”Thanks y/n for cheering us on, we’ll do our best” Eijirou grins with a toothy smile. “Damn right we’re going to win this” Katsuki follows with a determined look.

“Hanta can’t lose this if you’re here” he walks past Hanta and nudges him with his shoulder which results in him glaring at Katsuki with what you thought was red creeping up his cheeks? His head was turned so you couldn’t see well.

After their coach gave them a motivational speech, another whistle echoed in the gymnasium and they all returned to the court.

The last 2 sets were getting more and more intense.

Denki was giving in his all at trying to receive the ball well for his teammates. Katsuki, who was the middle blocker, ran amazingly fast each time to reach the ball Hanta or Eijirou set for him. There were two other hitters you didn’t know but they were also doing great.

You could see through their eyes how fast they were analyzing everything that was going down in the match, from the position to the eyes. You had to watch them carefully to notice all of this, someone who was sitting too far away wouldn’t be able to.

You were happy with this opportunity the guys gave you to assist in their match today, instead you would’ve been probably in bed sleeping or doing god knows what.

They won the third set and now you weren’t even sitting on the bench anymore but were standing and screaming encouraging words with Mina. Everything was going even faster now, the ball going up and down, left and right in every direction.

Scoring point after point, the score was now at 24-22 for the guys. They only needed one more to win this.

And so came one of the most stressful moments of your life as you carefully watched the ball in the air. Almost touching the ground but Denki was here to receive it but so was the other team's libero.

This went on for what felt like hours, none of the teams wanted to lose even if it only was a friendly match which showed how passionate they truly were.

Hanta was now serving, a serious look on his face as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in. Everyone was focused and the whole place was quiet. You could almost hear their heart beat.

He opened his eyes, took a few steps ahead. Throwing the ball in the air, you began to see everything in slow motion.

Hanta slightly ran, crouched to gain momentum before jumping, his hand making contact with the ball as it came down.

You blinked and heard a loud thud from the other side of the court.

Nobody moved before you and Mina screamed in happiness as you both hugged each other jumping in place and everyone began loudly clapping their hands.

The boys all collide with each other as they all hug in a circle.

You continue clapping with a big smile on your face when Hanta suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with you. He runs over to you before his arms wrap themselves around your waist and lifts you up in the air as you hold onto his shoulders.

“We won!” he laughs, spinning you both around. You laugh along with him and throw your head back.

“You did, you did! You were incredible, you all were. Oh my god that match was insane” you chuckle as he puts you back on the ground.

“Thank you for coming and cheering me on hermosa” he says looking tenderly in your eyes, hands still on your waist.

”Of course Hanta.”

[popcornforone]

Unlocked

A Joel Miller (Pre Outbreak) Fic

Day 27 of Pedrotober (The Last of Us Prompt)

Masterlist

Oooh Grumpy Joel what are we gonna do with you. Yea even before the outbreak he was moody, so let’s try & reset him a bit. He clearly needed to get laid.

Synopsis:- After a night out, you wake up the next morning to a surprise.

Word count:- 3200

Warnings over & above:- Unprotected PIV sex, Shower sex, baby sitter neighbour relationship, age gap, alcohol, swearing, technically trespassing & breaking it, teasing, peeping & spying, lustful thoughts, fantasy’s coming true,self pleasure,fingering.

Yea this was fun to write. Hope you all enjoy reading it & that’s as always @alyssamariag & @norththelemon for the prompt list.

You get out of the taxi at 4am on a Saturday night. You & your friends had a little bit too much to drink tonight, but not enough that you are going to be sick. However you fully expect a hang over in the morning. You’re the second to last person to be dropped home & you arrive in your road & give Lola the money for your part of the journey. The taxi drives off & you stand in the middle of the road taking in the night air & do a little dance. You spin & sing.

“Home is where the heart is” but you are interrupted at the lightning strikes & you scream. Drenched from the rain in a few seconds.

You run to your door & fumble with your keys. All the street lights are off but you can see the light in the entrance on. You eventually after struggling with the keys unlock the door & shut & bolt it locked behind you. You leave your keys on the dresser in the hall & slowly make your way upstairs. A few stumbles & giggles as you go. Your parents won’t mind. You creek open your bedroom door when you get there & decide to not turn the light on. You shed your clothes across the floor, leaving just your tiny white thong still on. You didn’t wear much make up, so you decide not to go wash it off or use make up remover. You just get into bed, gulp down the glass of water you left on the side & fall asleep.

You wake up at 8am to something cold, something running across the back of your legs. You slowly turn around, your eyes fluttering open. You are met by two dark brown eyes flickering open at you.

“AHHHHHH!!!!!” You both scream at each other & the man leaps out of bed & you pull the bed sheet up, so your boobs are not exposed.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!?” Screaming again in unison. You then both look confused at each other. You both see the panic in each others eyes. You didn’t bring a man home last night & you definitely remember getting into bed alone, you’re not that hungover or drunk. It’s only then that you fully concertrate on the man. Your eyes adjusting to see who he is. You’d recognise that voice anywhere.

“Joel?” You splutter out & he replies with your name.

“What are you doing in my bed?”

“Your bed? it’s my bed”

“No this is my house, how the fuck did you get in here”

“No it’s mine I…” but then you look. Grey bed sheets. No butterfly art mosaics on the wall, white blinds, a guitar in the corner & a watch next to one half drunk glass of water which is more of a tumbler. No wonder you’re dehydrated .”How am I in your house?” You then ask”did you drive me home? No I was in a taxi” this confusion isn’t helping either of you.

“No I’ve not seen you since last Wednesday, when you stayed over with Sarah afterschool”

You’ve come back from college & you are looking after his 10 year old girl twice a week while he works late, just for some fuel money to get to job interviews. It then suddenly rings a bell.

“You gave me a spare key, that’s how I let myself in” he pauses & then laughs. You feel embarrassed but he sees the funny side of it.

“That’s true but still doesn’t answer why you didn’t notice this wasn’t you house or bedroom, at whatever time you got here”

“4am & I didn’t turn the lights on I never do, if I’m coming home from a night out” Joel then pulls the blind open. After you adjust to the sun, you see your bedroom window facing across the street from you.

“Well at least you came to my house & not someone’s house where they would have taken advantage of you” he says.

“Very true” you blush secretly you’ve always had a crush on Joel. “Sorry Joel, I didn’t mean to startle you”

“It’s okay” he says trying not to look at how the bed sheet has fallen down slightly & he can now see one of your breasts. Such delicate nipples waiting to be sucked on. Perky breast ready for him to bury his head in as his penis is buried inside your cunt. He shake his head trying not to look, but wanting to. “Although how you’re going to explain this to your parents, I have no idea.”

“They go to church!” You say quickly & abruptly”they will still assume I’m in bed” you smile “& what about Sarah”

“School camping trip she left yeasterday, she’s back…”

“Ahhh Wednesday you told me you needed me Wednesday”

“Yes correct” he gives an awkward giggle. What he’d like to tell you is that he needs you now. His balls are aching. Usually by now he’s jerked off thinking about you, the girl over the road who’s all pure & innocent to him. Who has come back from college a woman & is single & ready to mingle.”Do…Do you want to use my shower before you go?” He says quickly.

“Do I smell?”

“God no, I mean yous smell amazing, I mean” he flusters. He then sees you move the bed sheet & grab your top to cover your breasts. He couldn’t help but stare. Your arse was eating up that thong, was it even there? A nice little curve to it. He wonders if you’d be up for anal.

“Thanks Joel” you say grabbing your clothes, “I won’t be long” he like you, as your houses are built he same, has an en-suite bathroom. His is much fancier than yours, as a contractor he’s probably designed it himself with a walk in shower.

You close the door behind you & gasp. You wish you had the nerve to ask him into the bathroom, to plunder you. To make you cum. To know what sex with a man is like not one of those college boys. So many nights at college & now back home, do you lie in bed when your parents would still like you to be saying some prays, that you pray to the church of Miller. Be it with fingers, a vibrator or a dildo you do often moan oh god at your point of climax, wondering how thick he would be.

He’s paceing up & down his bedroom. The girl he’s been trying not to think of sexually for the last 4 months is naked in his shower, probably pleasuring herself to his water. It makes him hard. He gulps down air but then he hears you call.

“Joel it’s too cold”

He bolts in straight away not even thinking, & looks straight at the shower. He knows if he stops he will see your exposed body, completely naked, nipples so hard you could hang washing from them. He walks past you in the walk in shower the water on a slow jet & touches the dial to turn it up.

“There you go”

“Thanks Joel” he then brushes you on his way out & your eyes connect. It might only be for a few seconds, but it’s enough. You both slowly look each other up & down. When he looks at your naked body he sighs, you look better then he could have ever imagined. You make your move, caressing your hand up his arm, you feel the goosebumps grow on him. Your eyes now drawn to his boxers. Damp from their quick encounter under the shower as he sorted out the controls. His erection, huge. You look back into his eyes & see they are dilated & passionate. Your other hand goes on his chest. He’s hairy. But those little hairs feel so good. You whimper.

“Joel…”

“Sweetie” he leans in moves your slightly damp hair off your face, cups it & makes contact for a delicious kiss. You’d hope he’d kiss like this. There’s hunger but also a softness to it. He pulls you into him, god you’ve never felt such a manly body before, those arms have you in a tight embrace. Hips hips starting to roll, so you move your hand down his happy trail & go inside his boxers. His turn to moan.

“You want this?” It’s a sultry tone he uses.

“Since I was 13” no point in lying anymore, you’ve fancied him since he moved in.

“Jesus kid” he’s shocked but that doesn’t stop him from pushing you against the tiles.

“You are my hunky neighbour in this deadbeat town , who else was I meant to fantasise about”

“The boys at school”

“No boy at school or college comes close” you tug on his boxers.

“Wait you’ve done this before right” he asks concerned. Not wanting your first time to be in a shower. You shrug & he looks concerned.

“I’ve had sex but never in a shower”

“You sure you want this”

“The other option is putting me back in your bed”

“Fuck that maybe later” you then pull on his boxers, them slipping to the floor of the shower. He springs free. You can’t help but gasp, he guides your hand with his to stroke his length. Precum mixing with shower water. “Last chance sweetie” you kiss him & bite his lip.

“I’m all yours Joel” he rubs the head of his length against your clit. He’s not taken his eyes off your face. Your legs automatically part & he reaches one hand to turn the water temperature up.

“Don’t want you getting cold baby” your breached & gasp. Yes you’ve had sex before but never with anyone this big. It pinches but also feels so good as he drags against you, your quivering straight away once you’re completely filled. “Fuck, your so tight, so fucking tight,” he moans as he starts to rock into you, your body responding as you grip his shoulder, friction between you both starting.

“God I’m a lucky guy”

“Fuck Joel fuck oooh shit it’s so good”

“You betcha” his thumb wipes water from the shower off your lips before he then claims them again. A really passionate kiss. Your body on fire. You didn’t know sex could feel this good as you watch the intense look in his eyes as he moans about you.

“Best cunt ever, best girl ever, god if I’d know what had been under those tiny shorts I’d have fucked you all summer”

“Fuck Joel mmmmmmmm your so big”

“Just for you baby” your bodies squelch. He sucks on of your nipples. You leave a love bite on his shoulder. You’ve never experienced this kind of pleasure.

“Fuck Joel, I’m I… I” you lose the words

“Me too sweetie” you’ve never cum before. All your college boyfriends had been about blow jobs & quick fucks. They’d been too busy trying to replicate there porn fantasy’s. Never letting you finish. So when it hits you, & you clamp around him, your whole body trembles, as you scream his name. What you then don’t hear is him screaming yours as your eyes see all the colours in the world, but you feel it. He coats you. He doesn’t pull out. He fills you up. His seed inside you, he growls & then pushes you completely against the wall. Your lips meeting In desperation & desire. A kiss needed to calm you both down neither of you noticing the water still cascading over you both.

Eventually Joel withdraws his penis & grabs a bottle of shower gel & hands it to you. It was your original intention to wash after all.

“So was that the…” he looks nervous.

“First time I’ve cum?” You say bashfully & nod.

“Did it meet your expectations”

“More than enough” you say & softly kiss his lips.

“Is this gonna make things awkward”

“Only if you want it to be”

After you shower you go home via the pharmacy. You weren’t on birth control & he didn’t even think of a condom & you don’t want your dad to find out you are pregnant by Joel he’d probably murder him, so the morning after pill will sort you out. You get a couple just to be safe. However you think that’s it. You don’t think Joel will want to see you that way again. Today was a moment, you’re sure he will just move on even if you don’t.

The Sunday goes by in a blur. Your parents home from church, lunch to give thanks to god not that you believe, crafting & writing in the afternoon. On your mind though is still Joel. How he made you feel, how good he looked naked, how he kissed & caresses you but mainly how he fucked you. You’re day dreaming becoming a distraction. He’s unlocked all your sexual desires in one unplanned encounter.

As you get ready for bed your phone pings. You’re in your bedroom about to take your clothes off. You look at your phone & then a smirk is on your face.

You know if you pull your curtains I can still see your silhouette of you getting naked because of the light.

It’s a message from Joel. You pull the curtains open & see him sitting in the chair in his bedroom completely naked stroking his length with something white. You don’t know if you should be shocked that he’s peeping on you or if you should be proud. You reply.

& if I turn the light off?

I’ll creep in & see to you myself

Mr Miller! You reply & then strip down to your underwear. You then drop your phone when he sends a photo through.

Baby I’ll let you know I can see your underwear clearly. & have seen them all day.

You left your white thong at his. The photos is of his length spewing into the sodden panties. You put your hand straight to your clit.

Well Joel maybe I need to come over & reclaim them or steal your boxers

I accept that as a challenge

… you wait

…

I know you’ve got the key to come in, I promise to be awake this time.

You wait until your parents light goes off for their bedroom, then grab a robe & slowly sneak out of the house with your keys. Darting as quick as you can across the road so no one can see you. Not that anyone should be up at this time including you. You touch his front door & it’s already unlocked & you close it behind you. Arriving in his bedroom. There Joel sits. Completely naked. Your white panties in his hand, stroking his length. His face one of sheer ecstasy. You drop your robe & slowly walk over to him.

“Take it off sweetie, then come enjoy me”

“Have you got the stamina old man, if you’ve been pleasuring yourself all night.” You say, your bra unhooked & it falls to the floor. He sits up he’s a breast man more than a arse man.

“Baby, I might be old to you at 32 but damn it I can teach you a thing or two…” his jaw drops when your panties are off. You he can smell you arousal from here. You decide to stand in front of him. He leans forward. His lips kiss your belly. Two of those large sausage fingers slip inside you. You grab his shoulder & tense up.

“Fuck baby, do all college girls get aroused like this” he’s pumping you & you grip his shoulder.

“Joel please please, I need you”

“Do you”

“Yes”

“How much”

“So much, no man has fucked me like you did to day.” You start to stutter & he then stops just as you get stimulated & he parts your legs.

“Think you can last all night?”he swipes his length across your entrance. You moan loudly.

“Yes Joel, I do” you wrap your arms around him & he slowly guides you all the way down to his base. Balls deep inside you. He feels bigger than this morning. It’s a deep moan you let out.

“Fuck sweetie, I’m using all my night not to cum right now”

“Same baby” you whine. You slowly start to roll around him, trying to slow down your pleasure.

“Those college boys got you ready just for me” he whispers & then slaps your bum. “Your tight cunt, begging to be fully used” you stop rolling as his thrusts become more & you feel him hit your pleasure something you thought was a myth as you take him fulling each time your seated on him. “You are perfect” he that latches his mouth into your breasts & you whine & moan, bouncing more. His pelvis thrusting hard as you feel alive.

“Fuck Joel, more more more”

“Fuck sweetie”

“Wanted this for so long”

“Same” you look at him shocked. He lift his head moving as fast as he can. Your breast jiggling.”when you got home this summer & you got out of the car & you hugged your friend & you were in those shorts & that almost see through top. I had to have a lot of restraint”

“Not anymore Joel, I’m never leaving this room” you groan.

He starts to falter as your orgasm hits you. No longer caring about the noise as you scream his name as you cum. He keeps you grinding around him licking up your sweat as he cums too. The sensation of him spilling inside you makes you glow. He’s so big, he fills you up, he gives you all you ever wanted.

You eventually lift your head from his shoulders. Breathing returned to normal & you sigh. His fingers that got you going earlier now stroking your back.

“Stay?” He whispers. You look softly into his eyes.

“Stay tonight?” you kiss his forehead.

“No forever” he says & he shows his strength. He’s semi hard still inside you. He stands up & takes the few steps carrying you to his bed. You’re his little spoon & you wince as he pulls out of you. He licks his fingers & wraps them around you. The dampness on them so soothing against your clit. Your body shudders.

“What about my family?” You moan pushing your bum against him. Your hips moving already.

“I’ll talk to them tomorrow, but right now I just want you” he kisses your neck leaving his own love bite there.”you’ve unlocked a passion in me I’ve not felt for a while.”

“Who am I to stop you Joel” you then moan. He’s parted your legs & the tip of his length is covered in your slick, a mix of both your cums & his saliva on his hand.”I’m not comp… oooh fuck” he doesn’t let you finish the sentence once again filling your vagina, in one movement. He looks over you as the bigger spoon seeing how well you take him, you clamping already.

“Oooh god baby, the plans i gave for you & this perfect pussy” the first thrust has you grabbing the pillow. “I’m gonna fuck it till the world ends”

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) I ch. VII

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6,656

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), cute date on the back of jk's car trunk, jk nervous, jk gives lots of gifts & flowers to oc, oc is obsessed with clearance chocolate, auntie oc and uncle kook take care of yoongi's twins, jk & oc become guinea pigs for yoongi's kids lmao, mention of dentist!yoongi, jk's mommy issues get mentioned, jk has personal daddy issues but he working through them, jk being good hubby to oc, just a rollercoaster of emotions ngl

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: Hello! thanks for being patient with me guys!! Important: the flashback for this chapter follows events of chapter V and will refer to it. And yes it's thier first date! Kind of 👀👀 that will be for you to decide. Then we have present day jk and oc being guinea pigs for Yoongi's crazy twins hehehe. Ok pls, enjoy 💞

<< ch. VI ༓ ch. VIII >> ┃series masterlist

You know how some couples have multiple weddings that lead to disagreements over their real anniversary date? Or maybe it’ll be when the relationship was made official or what the first sign of attraction was? Yeah, that’s you and Jungkook when it comes to pinpointing exactly when your first date was.

If you ask your husband, he’ll tell you it was weeks after you were discharged from the hospital during your postgrad studies. But in your opinion, it was far before his timeframe.

You see due to a group of overly eager college freshmen, you had sprained your ankle and cracked a rib. Jungkook stayed with you the entire first two weeks of the recovery period. He'd bring study notes to you, your favorite food, hell even art supplies he bummed off Taehyung to help break up your mundane days in the hospital.

When the time finally came that you were well enough to finish the healing process at home, he suggested a dinner out would be an excellent way to celebrate.

"...do you wanna go out to dinner?" Jungkook pops the question more causal than expected.

"Are you asking me on a date…?"

His reply is barely audible but you hear it and for the first time, your professor sounds truly timid. "Uh, well…let's go with hang out like friends do."

You’re convinced that this was the first time he asked you out, thus leading to your first date. Your husband, however, thinks it was too vague to tell. He prefers to see it as more a pre-date instead.

So, was it a date?

Was it an unspoken pre-date?

The jury’s still out about this one.

4 years ago

It’s a gorgeous day with the way the sun beams on the hood of his car. A few scattered clouds, fluffy and white, float across the sky as well, offering shelter from the heat. You were discharged from the hospital only yesterday and Jungkook was already insistent on going out today, saying that a little fresh air and a change of scenery would be good for you.

“Where are we going?” You turn your head from the passenger window to look at the man inquisitively. It’s a simple question but the tension of the unknown nibbles at you from inside.

“One of my favorite spots,” Jungkook replies with his eyes set on the road. “Hope you don’t mind the drive. It’ll be another fifteen minutes.”

“It's fine. Why can’t I know where we’re going though?”

He hesitates to answer. “Do you not like surprises?”

You shrug. “Sure I do, as long as I know about them ahead of time.”

A hearty laugh follows your words and it sends one of the warmest feelings through your whole body. You didn't think you were being funny, but after being stuck in the hospital for two weeks, it's nice to feel something other than dismal. Jungkook is good at lifting your spirits at the most unexpected of times, you hum to yourself.

He looks handsome today too.

You can’t stop yourself from thinking about it as you watch a few strands of his dark hair blow over. He has his window cracked to let in a gentle breeze and though it causes him trouble here and there, he remains mostly unbothered.

The oversized white T-shirt he chose to wear is something you're still taking time to adjust to. Much more casual compared to what he wears during his lectures. But you like it with the loose-fitting pants he's paired it with.

"If it's necessary for you to know where we're going then I guess I have no choice." Jungkook looks in your direction but your gaze lingers down his torso. "__."

"Yes?" You immediately blink up at him, hoping you don’t look too flushed. Once he directs his attention back to the road you'll make sure to check yourself in the side-view mirror. Using your phone camera might look a little too obvious.

"I was saying if you need to know where we're going I'll tell you," he repeats. "But if it's possible I'd really like for it to be a secret until we get there."

"Alright," you concede. "I guess I could stand the wait this one time. This is your only freebie though. No more surprises after this."

"No more checking me out," he mutters.

"What?"

"Nothing."

.

"Can I open my eyes yet?"

"No." Jungkook opens his door and hops out of the car. "I'll be right back."

"Wait where are you going?" You know he wants whatever this is to be a surprise but you've been told to keep your eyes shut for the last five minutes. You're a little nervous to say the least, especially if he's about to disappear somewhere. "Jungkook?"

No response.

"Hello? Jungkook?" You're tempted to open your eyes when you hear the trunk of his car suddenly pop open. Several rustling noises follow as he digs around. "What are you doing back there?"

"You'll see soon. I'm almost done so just sit tight for a moment." He unzips a bag and then pushes said bag around the floorboard. The sound of something crashing on the ground perks up your ears in the moments following, earning a tiny 'shit' from Jungkook.

"Everything alright?" You're seriously getting antsy now.

When Jungkook swings your door open, a cool breeze hits your legs. "All good __. But now, I'm going to need you to trust me because I'm going to help you out of the car."

What?

"Um, I do have crutches I can use you know. You don't have to carry me anywhere like before. Dr. Kim said I should–"

"You won't need them this time. We're not going far okay?" He ducks his head inside and guides your arms around his neck. "Can you scoot forward a little?"

You do as he says until he tells you to stop. And with one arm supporting your lower back and the other firm under your legs, you're lifted out of your seat.

"Okay." The ground underneath his feet crunches as he straightens himself back up and out of the vehicle. "Now you can open your eyes."

As soon as you do your jaw drops.

"Surprise!"

Jungkook watches your stunned face as you take in all of Seoul from your perched position.

"I hope you don't mind that I didn't take us to a traditional restaurant. This is an overlook I happened to stumble on years ago when I first moved here. Not many people know about it because it's kind of off the beaten track but I get a bit adventurous sometimes."

He carries you around to the back of the car.

"Since you're still recovering I won't make us sit on the ground but I brought food that we can eat in the back of my trunk. There's a pillow there you can lean against too. And I made sure to park at an angle so we can watch the sunset."

"Wow...Jungkook I don't know what to say."

"It's cheesy isn't it?" His previously eager tone drops and you can't help but feel a pulling at your heartstrings. "I'm sorry if this isn't your thing. I probably should have asked."

"I love cheesy." You crack a small smile and Jungkook breaks out into a grin again, causing both of you have butterflies in your stomachs. "You're very thoughtful for doing this. I'm sorry about my initial reaction. I'm just shocked."

"Well, we're friends now, aren't we? You should get used to this kind of stuff from now on." He walks up to the trunk and carefully sets you down. "Here, lean back." He fluffs the pillow and then gestures for you to lay back.

Once you're comfortable, he hops in next to you and grabs the baby blue gift bag from the corner of the trunk. You don't know how you missed it before given its size and very decorative packaging.

"Before I give you this to you please know that I don't expect anything back okay?" His hands are shaky as he holds the bag on his lap. "This is just something I wanted to give you after your injury and having to be in the hospital for so long."

You nod your head in understanding but are not fully convinced. "And you're giving this to me as a friend, yes?" You take the bag from him and slowly open it.

"Mhm."

You narrow your eyes at him before reaching into the bag. You take out a very large, sturdy box. "God, Jungkook. This is so heavy. What's in here?" You tear apart the wrapping paper and open the smooth lid. "Oh my god, you didn't?!"

They're chocolates from the dessert shop you told him about last Sunday night. You had mentioned it in passing because you were craving sweets but not in the slightest did you think he'd take it to heart. The shop was at least an hour's drive away.

"Don't worry." He sees the pressure creeping on your face. "I was going that direction anyway. But I saw it on my way back and was reminded that you were craving it the other night. Uhm, there's also a coupon in there too. They included that in the purchase."

"Jungkook....you really didn't need to do any of this for me." You grab the small card laying at the bottom of the bag that reads 20% off. "Thank you so much."

"Oh, I almost forgot!" You're taken aback when he jumps off the trunk to scurry to the backseat. He returns in mere seconds with a generous bouquet of pink and purple hydrangeas. "These are for you too."

You shriek and grab them out of his hand, feeling a little giddy. Hydrangeas are your absolute favorites. "Sorry, that was really rude of me. These are so beautiful, though. Thank you. I don't know what to say."

Jungkook sits back down and pulls forward a freezer bag. "Seeing you this excited is enough. I brought us a lot of food too so, we should probably eat it before it starts going bad. This bag can only do so much preserving." He digs out box after box of yummy food from fresh strawberries to sushi. There are drinks too; banana milk and soju.

Your stomach growls as you watch him set the food between you both.

"Well, don't be shy." He hands you a plate with chopsticks. "Dig in."

.

"You look very pretty in that blouse..." He stabs his straw into his milk and takes a large sip. "The color really suits you."

"Oh, thank you." You manage the words once you swallow the strawberry you're eating. "Yours too."

Jungkook combs through his hair with his fingers. "Thanks, this t-shirt really brings out my eyes don't you think?" You laugh and shove his shoulder lightly.

"Stop, I'm being serious. I don't see you in this type of style often. It looks good."

He gives a playful shake of his head. "Where did you get that shirt anyway?" He gestures at your top again.

"At a store," you reply dumbly. "It was on sale. Gotta love a good deal right?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Never pay full price."

"That's exactly what I try telling my roommate. She only buys the best of the best but I think she could get the same thing 50% off if she waited long enough."

"You know Taehyung's the same way. Nothing but luxury from head to toe. I'm surprised he paints in a basic t-shirt and jeans some days."

You chuckle, feeling the air light and fresh. "Painting gets messy so it's better you not wear your best and brightest clothes. Sometimes I'll just wear a giant t-shirt that already has paint stains and nothing el–"

Shit.

You cringe at how quickly you can run your mouth. Jungkook doesn't need to know your painting attire evident from his sudden frozen up form.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm embarrassed."

"Don't be. I've heard worse." Jungkook clears his throat and looks out to the view in front of you. "This really is a beautiful spot is it not?"

Thank you for the deflection, you silently say to him.

"Yes, it's the best view I've seen in my life. I can't believe you found this place. It's like seeing everything for the first time again."

.

"__."

"Hm?"

"Is it weird that I–" He stops mid-sentence, hands rubbing his thigh. "Is it weird that I brought you here?"

"Of c–"

"No wait, wait that's not what I wanted to ask." He runs his fingers through his hair again, doing his best to keep eye contact. "What would you say if someone were to ask you out?"

You relax into a tight-lipped smile and quirk your head to a slight angle. "I'd probably say no because I'm on a date with you right now."

At this Jungkook's milk slips from his hand, spilling on his pants. You grab some napkins next to you and help him wipe the spillage off.

"We're on a date?" He stands the milk upright. "This is a date?"

"Yes, it very obviously is. I don't wear this top for just anyone you know." You close your mouth instantly and sit up straight. "You weren't meant to hear the last part."

"Wait, go back. I thought this was us hanging out. Remember? At the hospital, I said–"

"C'mon the flowers, the specialty chocolates, taking me to one of your secret hideouts. Not to mention packing all this food to share. It is most definitely a date. Do you not want it to be?"

"No! I mean of course, yes. But I would have dressed a lot better." He looks down at himself, embarrassed. "I just threw these on before I left the house."

"And what else would you have worn? I see you in dress shirts and slacks twice a week at the school, if not more."

"Oh, I guess you have a point." He lets out a sigh. "To be honest __. We don't have the most proper relationship for that kind of thing, do we? It's annoying that I keep saying it but I am still your professor until the end of this semester at least. Us dating would be kind of a breach of contract."

"So you won't call this a date because you think it's forbidden?" You cross your arms.

"Well not entirely. It's just...I'm scared. There it is. And if we plan to do any sneaking around business I need to know you...shit, this is going to sound so middle school of me...I need to know you're interested in me __."

"For fucksake Jungkook, I wouldn't have agreed to come if I wasn't interested." You move closer to his side so you're inches from his face. "You're the kindest person I've ever known and I'd like to know you more like you've been doing for me the past two weeks. You've gone out of your way so many times for me that I seriously can't keep up. And while I can't say that I'm in love with you since it's much too soon, I've become very attracted to you. It just sucks we're in a bit of an odd position with school and all. But we can make this work. I'm also in post-grad so I don't think we're doing anything that risky."

"What about Taehyung?"

"That's all you got out of what I just said?"

"Sorry, I'm just asking because you seemed into him at the art exhibit. You're both artistic after all." He fiddles with his fingers. "I'm just the guy who you got stuck with this year because you couldn't major in art."

You feel compelled to take one of his restless hands in your own, so you do–holding it loosely.

"Kim Taehyung was simply a visual interest," you say. "I never thought about anything serious with him. He's also faculty so unless he saves my life or something, I'm not really considering anything beyond a friendly report."

A moment of silence is exchanged as Jungkook lets your response sink in. And as long as your eyes aren't fooling you, you'd say he's more than pleased with it.

"So...you really wanna do this?" Jungkook asks with more anticipation than nervousness this time.

"Yes." You nod.

"Wow, okay um, well when do you want to go out?" He kicks his feet back and forth. And when he reflexively squeezes your hand you can't help but grin at his eagerness. "I'm free every weekend if that works for you."

"We should probably get to the end of this date first Dr. Jeon."

"Nooo, I like Jungkook. Can we stay with Jungkook when it's just you and me? Also, this isn't a date. We need a do-over."

You laugh, seeing a new side of him. He's more, hm, whiny than you thought–it's cute.

"Jungkook, we don't need a do-over. This can be a date if we want it to be. It's got all the elements already. Look." You lift his hand in yours. "We're already holding hands.

"Nope. When are you free?"

"How about this coming Friday after 4pm? Is that too far out?"

He shakes his head fervently. "It works perfectly for me. Let's do 4:01pm." Your baffled expression causes his own eyebrows to knit together. "What? You can't do 4:01?"

"I–yeah sure I can but I didn't expect you to suggest a time so soon."

"Well, you said you'd be free after 4pm right?"

You nod.

"Then it's a date!"

He smiles wide and you do the same.

Present

"Kook, grab us a cart. You won't believe what's on sale!" You stuff about five gold-foiled boxes under your arm. The yellow tag next to the price says 75% off which means you are for sure buying at least ten of these.

It's times like these that your husband enjoys watching you most. You can barely reach the self where the clearance chocolate is, nevertheless, you're on your tip-toes with arms fully extended above your head to grab at every box of sweets you can.

His inner hero wants to help but he's learned early on not to get in the middle of you and your favorite snack. It's better he listens to your request to get a cart instead.

"Don't hurt yourself in the five minutes I'm gone okay honey?"

"Mhm," you mumble, not really paying attention. "Kook this chocolate has caramel and orange inside. Oh my god, look." You show him a box of chocolates with cherry filling. "These are to die for. I need like six of these."

"Here give me some of those." Jungkook takes the boxes of chocolates from your arm when he sees them slipping from your hold. "I'll put these in a cart while you keep digging. But if someone else comes along, let them have at least one this time."

He knows how much of a little hog you can get with your candy.

"Are you kidding? Finders keepers." You reach for another box, the ones in the back are always the best.

"__."

"What? I'm doing all the hard work here which means I get to keep all the chocolate."

"Fine, fine. Be sure to check the expiration date too." Jungkook turns around to stalk toward the front of the store. If he doesn't get his butt to a cart soon, his wife is going to turn into a grizzly bear.

A very cute grizzly bear.

But a grizzly bear nonetheless.

"Did we really need thirty boxes of these?" Jungkook dumps the grocery bags on your kitchen counter. "I love you but this is insane. Who's going to eat all of this chocolate?"

"Well, I was planning on sending the twins home with some." You rummage through the bag then move to stack them in the pantry. "They'll be here in an hour so it can be a surprise from us."

"Yoongi's twins? You're going to send the two children whose father is a dentist a whopping bag of chocolate?" Jungkook hands you another box to put in the pantry. The little assembly line works well when putting groceries away.

"I'm only giving them one box okay? So Yoongi can shove it."

You hear a snickering behind you.

"Honey don't push the man who could likely yank all your teeth out of your head and end with, 'will that be all?'"

You roll your eyes. "Yoongi doesn't scare me like he scares you. But if you're so worried I will get his permission ahead of time."

Jungkook's mouth opens in response until he feels a slight vibration in his pant pocket. When he takes it out to check his initial good mood drops about ten degrees.

"Kook?" You watch as he reads whatever it is on his phone.

"Nothing." He switches off the device and places it face-down on the counter. "It's just dad."

"Something about your mom I'm presuming?"

Being Saturday, it's been a few days since Jungkook had his fallout with his mother. They were originally planning to stay in town until Friday but left Thursday morning instead due to Mrs. Jeon feeling "unwanted".

Your husband's been in close contact with his father ever since.

"Yeah," Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh. "She's journaling again apparently. It's what she does to cope with frustrations like me."

"I'm sorry Kook." You rub his arm soothingly. "Maybe she needs some time to think about everything that's happened. I know you want her to talk to you but maybe it's not all bad that she's jotting things down first."

"Yeah, maybe." He takes your hand and presses a light kiss against the back of your knuckles. "It's whatever though, Mom can have her fit. I'm not going to let her ruin one of the only free days I get with my wife."

You smile and quickly peck his soft lips–something Jungkook wishes would be longer.

"Love you," you say and return to your original task of putting groceries away.

 "Listen to me you two gremlins," Yoongi says on a bent knee. "Eomma and I will be back by 8pm. Until then your uncle Jungkook and Aunt __ are in charge. You know the rules, no jumping around on the sofas, don't into Aunt __'s paints, stay out of Uncle Jungkook's office, and under no condition are you to get into sweets."

He flicks his eyes to you for a brief moment then sets them back on the two seven-year-old girls in front of him. They look adorable with their matching space buns.

"But Appa–"

"No Eun-ji."

"Can't I just have one? Pleaseee?" She stares up at Yoongi with large eyes, hands clasped together. His second daughter Ari quickly does the same.

"We promise we'll brush our teeth right after."

Yoongi's face remains unmoved at his twin's relentless need for chocolate. Sure, he may be the one more likely to cave to requests when it comes between him and his wife but sweets were definitely off the table. His girls just got their teeth cleaned a couple days ago too, cavity-free, and he intends to keep it that way.

"Did you even bring your toothbrushes?" He knows for a fact they did not being that they weren't staying the night.

The twins exchange looks before breaking into a goofy grin. Mrs. Min leans down next to her husband at the moment and draws her girls into a hug.

"Appa and I will bring you back something better than chocolate tonight, okay?" She kisses her daughter's cheeks and then stands up. "Be good."

"K..." The twins let out a small huff then turn to set their backpacks on the living room couch.

"Hey," Yoongi calls after them. "Where's my hug?"

You let out a snort when you see Eun-ji face her dad again, tongue sticking out. Her sister gives a similar attitude with her hands on her hips and scrunched-up face. These girls might be in elementary school now but boy, those teenage years are sure to be rocking.

"Turn." You hear Ari from across the living room. She's standing on the sofa with her small hands holding a chunk of your husband's hair.

"Like this?"

"No the other side."

With his legs crossed on the floor, Jungkook shifts his head toward your direction with widened eyes. At this point, most of his hair has been pulled back into tight braids and finished off with yellow and pink hair clips. The only section left to do now was the underside.

"How do I look?" he asks you.

"Oh, you look breathtaking honey." You feel a soft makeup brush swipe across your cheek, courtesy of Eun-ji who's decided you needed a 'makeover'. You're not sure if that means a seven year old cramped on your style or what, but either way, you're getting bronze cheeks and glittery eyeshadow.

It's only been half an hour and the twins were already making you and your husband do their utmost bidding.

"Ari honey," you coo. "You should become a hairstylist when you grow up. You're doing such a good job with Uncle Jungkook's hair."

"I know," she sasses. "I'm good at this stuff Auntie. Everyone says that I am the queen of doing hair."

You and Jungkook giggle from the small child's gumption. It's good she's confident, you mouth to your husband.

He nods back. "Eun-ji's doing a great job too. You should see the glitter she's chosen for you."

"Not yet Uncle Jungkook," Eun-ji pipes up. "She can't look yet. It's a surprise!"

"Ah okay." He throws you playful eyes, eyebrows bouncing up and down suggestively. "A surprise huh?"

You flutter your eyes closed when you see Eun-ji dab her palette and reach forward to paint the eyeshadow over your lids. "Yup." she nods her head. "I'm giving Auntie the best color ever."

"Wow I can't wait to see honey," you say. "This wouldn't happen to be your favorite color would it?"

The tease in your tone makes Eun-ji grin. Of course, you can't see it but Jungkook can and it causes him to break out into a boisterous chuckle.

"You're so cute Eun-ji," he says, clapping his hands together.

"What about me?" It's Ari's sassiness making a comeback as she pushes the final yellow clip into Jungkook's hair.

"You're cute too Ari." You reassure the child and open your lids once Eun-ji gives you the okay. Not a second following that you're thrusted forward a hand-held mirror.

"What do you think?"

You glance at yourself in the reflection, blush blue eyeshadow that covers up to your eyebrows and bronze blush. You have ruby red lipstick on as well, Eun-ji's personal favorite.

"I love it, sweetheart. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." She gathers all the makeup containers and tools she can fit in her hands before making her way to your husband. "You're turn Jungkook."

"Okay, but can I pick what color this time?" Your husband smiles at the child with mirthful eyes.

"No." She sets the make-up in front of him and pops open a bright, Barbie pink lipstick.

"Anti-ti-ti-ti fragile, fragile!"

You watch from the kitchen as the twins jump around in the living room. After your makeover, the girls felt like a karaoke session was in order. They convinced Jungkook to join them so there he is with a microphone in his hand, belting the lyric of 'Antifragile' by LE SSERAFIM.

"Come on __!" Ari calls to you, breath heavy from all the rambunctious dancing. "Sing with us!"

You laugh and whisk the bowl of flour and sugar in front of you. "No you guys keep going. I'm a little busy at the moment."

"Doing what?" She runs up to the kitchen island where you stand, trying to peek inside the bowl.

"I'm making cookies."

"Really?" She rushes to the other side of the island to pull out the stool from underneath. Once she settles herself in the chair she looks at you with eagerness. "Can we eat them?"

"Hmm..." You pretend to think. "Didn't your dad tell you no?"

"Yeah, but you always give us sweets. Even if he says we can't have them."

The child has a point.

"How about this, if you help me make these you can eat them. But you can't tell your dad okay?" Ari nods. "Good, you can stir this for me while I crack some eggs."

"Just what are you doing?" You jump when Jungkook walks up behind you. "You wouldn't be giving these sweet girls something their parents told them they could have, would you?"

"Dad will be really mad if he finds out," Eun-ji joins in on the scolding. She turns down the music from the tv and folds her arms.

"Well I–"

"If you're going behind Yoongi hyung's back you're going to need some help, honey." Jungkook slides one of the kitchen draws open and reaches to take out a small plastic bag. He throws out two brand new kid-size toothbrushes, orange and blue. "Had a feeling we'd need these tonight after seeing you stock up on all that chocolate today."

"Now girls..." He turns to look at Ari and Eun-ji who seem to be busy mixing the bowl of flour and sugar together. "Hey girls."

They lift their heads.

"Make sure to brush twice before your dad gets back. This stays our little secret, understand?"

"Okay," they say in unison.

"Thank you Kook." You lean your head against your husband's firm chest, resting for a moment. This whole situation is kind of funny if you think about it. But you really hope you don't get beef from Yoongi later.

"Anything for you," Jungkook quips and kisses your head gently.

"Ew..." You hear Ari say.

"No it's not," Eun-ji bites back. "It's romantic, like the movies."

Ari scrunches her face at her sister. "No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"Nope."

You and Jungkook wait for the two of them to simmer down but they keep going at it. Yes, no, yes, no...back and forth until one of them scoops up a handful of the flour in the bowl and tosses it at the other.

"Uh okay, no more! No more." You and Jungkook lunge forward to sweep the bowl out of their reach.

"How about you let Auntie and Uncle finish making the cookies and you two go back to karaoke?" Jungkook successfully persuades the twins and they run back into the living room in search of the next biggest hit to jam to.

You lock eyes with Jungkook now, wordless.

"Hm?" He hums at you.

"Mm." You shrug your shoulders and move towards the fridge but not before you're flicked with some of the flour yourself–your husband's hand powdery from the mixture. "Kook!"

You wipe your face, and light laughs fall from both your lips.

"Okay girls, get brushing!" Jungkook guides the twins to the bathroom. "Your parents are going to be home in fifteen minutes and that means these teeth need to smell like nothing my fresh mint." He squeezes the toothpaste on each girl's brush.

"Bursh, brush, brush," he chants and you shake your head as you wash the cookie sheet in the kitchen sink.

The twins have eaten about three cookies each and with chocolate stains all over their faces, they're going to need more than a 2-minute teeth brushing.

"Honey, I'm cracking the windows open and lighting my candles." Jungkook rushes around the house in search of his vanilla bean scents.

"I don't think that's going to take away the smell in such a short time. We should probably just take the beating Kook," you holler back.

"Oh, we're definitely getting dragged out tonight." He yanks the candle jars open and lights them. "The smell of freshly baked cookies is still too strong to hide but I'm hoping these candles will act as a distraction."

You hit your husband with the kitchen towel, the snap of it making him throw you a startled look. "Shit–do you not see the lighter in my hand?"

You roll your eyes. "Relax drama queen, you didn't have it ignited yet. Anyway, the candles aren't necessary if we're opening all the windows."

"It'll help though."

"Not really."

"Well, I think they will."

Jungkook goes back to lighting his candles and once he has the twentieth one lit, he's thoroughly pleased with himself.

As soon as the twins finish cleaning themselves up, they help scatters them throughout the house, leaving them in as many corners with surfaces as possible.

"Okay, that's it! That's the last one." Jungkook high-fives the twins and you toss the last dish in the drying rack.

"Good job team." You laugh and join them in the living room.

Eun-ji plops herself on the sofa with her backpack in her lap. "I had a lot of fun tonight."

Ari joins her on the couch with her own backpack in hand. "Me too." She pauses and then says something that you and Jungkook were very much underprepared for.

"You would make good mom and dads."

"You think so?" Jungkook shocks you by responding first.

Ari nods. "If you had kids, we could all play together. And we can have all the cookies we want because we'll be best friends. And best friends share everything!"

"So you want Auntie and I to have kids so you can keep hiding cookies from your dad?" Jungkook lunges forward to tickle the child mercilessly. "You little cookie monster!"

Ari rolls around on the couch, giggling repeatedly. You can't help but feel the thumping of your heart as you watch the scene unfold. And for the slightest moment, you imagine what it would be like with your own child.

All those thoughts are put to an abrupt end however when the doorbell rings.

Jungkook flies to the door to let Yoongi and his wife in. He flashes you a little smile before opening it, ensuring you that whatever happens he's got your back.

"Were you guys baking in here?" Are Yoongi's first words as he and the Mrs step inside the entryway of your house.

"Um, no? No, I don't think so." Jungkook feigns ignorance. "It must be coming from our neighbor's house."

With the twins home with their parents, you and Jungkook curl up together in your bed. You nuzzle your head in his inner shoulder and his arm holds around your waist.

"Those girls are a lot," Jungkook says. "But you know, I have to agree with them this time–it was kinda fun."

"Yeah?" You aimlessly trace circles on his chest.

"Still crazy, but yeah. I felt like I had a lot of good energy inside me tonight. And you know something else?" He looks down at you.

"What?"

"We'd make pretty damn good parents."

You bolt up from your reclined position the second the words drop.

"You can't keep doing this to me Jungkook," you say, your hands gripping the soft comforter. This isn't the first time he's teased you with having a baby and every time he does, you don't know what to take it as.

Is it a joke, is he serious, or just talking?

"You know how I feel and–"

"Hey." Your husband leans up to stroke your back with warm hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry honey. I don't mean to confuse you. I really am thinking about it you know? With everything that's been going on with my parents lately, I know I've been hard to pin down but I really am serious when I say we'd make good parents. Or when I say we might have a possible baby to make one day."

"Might. Could make. Maybe." You stare straight at your husband. "I know you're warming up the idea but you're still talking in such vague terms. I'm not at all trying to rush us to decide on a baby or not. But I just don't want to get a false sense of hope...that you'll say yes."

"Come here." He draws you into an embrace and kisses your cheeks, both of them. "I'm sorry for being an idiot. I admit the first few times I was more loose with what I was saying than I should have been. But I swear I, it was never my intention to be leaving you guessing. I'm so sorry."

"I just want to know what you really think Kook. So I can be sure where you're at through this whole thing. The last few days have thrown a wrench at us with all the stuff your mom's been doing. But I'd still like to be in the loop of things."

"Yes, of course. I'm going to tell you everything right now okay?" Jungkook takes a breath. "I want to give you a baby so bad and I think I'm 70 percent there. But I'm also 60% not there because I'm terribly scared that once it happens, once we have a baby...that I'll revert back to my original mindset of not wanting one."

"Kook–"

"Hold on a second."

You close your mouth and allow him to continue.

"I've already started seeing and feeling being around kids differently than before. So much so that I think we could be happy if we started a family together because I'm so happy when I'm with you. And if there's anyone I could do that with, it'd be you and only you. So yes, I want us to have a baby, as many as you want, but I want to be 100% there first."

"Okay, that's fair. I'm not going to lie that I don't feel a little out of body from what you just said. Just to clarify, you're saying yes to how many babies?" You shine your eyes at him. "You said you want to give me as many babies as I want right? How many would that be?"

"My limit is yet to be determined." He grins at you. "It seems I might need to repeat some things if all you got out of what I just said is that I'll give you as many babies as you want."

"No, actually." You grip his hand. "I heard what you said and thank you. I feel a lot better knowing your thought process through this whole thing. We both need to be 100 % in before deciding on this next step in our lives. And about you being worried that you'll revert back to not wanting children. I'm no expert but I don't think that'll be true given your recent exposure with kids has made you feel better than worse. You said it yourself–you had a lot of good energy inside you tonight."

"True. You make an excellent point there. I think I still need some more time though. I was even thinking that maybe I'll....talk to Hoseok about this."

"I'm glad to hear that Kook. Hoseok is an amazing man and I know talking to him about all this will be nothing but beneficial for you."

"Thank you for being patient with me." Jungkook pulls you both down on the mattress, closing his eyes when his head hits the pillow.

"Same to you." You snuggle back into his chest. "I really hope we can have a family together."

"Me too," you hear him mumble before you close your own eyes.

A/N: Yup I told you this would be a long one. Ty for sticking with me! Also, what do you think? Was it a first date or not? LMK your thoughts 🥰

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[ayyy-pee]

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 3: 𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝑶𝒏

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Pairing: Choso x f! Reader

Summary: Things take a turn.

Chapter Warnings: Angst...

WC: 6.6k

Choso Art By:NC9__

**While not all chapters contain adult content, the themes of this story are targeted towards adults, so minors DNI please.

No one warned you just how difficult university would be.

Your first semester of college has been kicking your ass in all honesty. Between your art projects, extracurriculars and trying to maintain some semblance of a social life, you’re completely burnt out. It was quite the adjustment from high school where teachers stayed on you about your school work and assignments. You'd learned very quickly that now, one was responsible for you but you.

At 19, it was a true test of your maturity. And you were failing that test quite miserably.

“I have one last project due and then I’ll finally be able to breathe. This professor has been up my ass all semester. I can’t wait for winter break and to be done with his class.” You set your bags down on your desk before you adjust your cell phone between your cheek and shoulder. “Sorry to rant. How are you all doing?”

A deep voice rumbles on the other end of the line with a laugh that makes your cheeks warm every time you hear it.

“Hey, it’s no problem. I’m just happy to hear from you. At least you’re letting me know what to realistically expect when I start school next year.” You hear shifting on the other side and you know he’s getting comfortable, probably in bed. “Yuji’s good. He’s also getting ready for winter break so he’ll be home most of the time. Eso’s been struggling with algebra, but Kechizu is surprisingly good at it. He’s been helping him study and–”

You listen closely, hanging on every word falling from your friend’s lips as he catches you up on his brother’s lives. It’s been a few months since you’ve spoken to Choso over the phone. While you’d keep in touch after the summer months until you were back on the beach, you’ve both been busy with your new normal. You haven’t seen Choso either, your first year of college being surprisingly more difficult than you’d expected so you opted for summer classes in hopes to maintain your GPA instead of taking your annual trip with your parents.

It was the first time since you were 9 that you hadn’t gone back to the beach. Your parents reluctantly returned without you your first summer in university, only after you had pushed them to enjoy a romantic vacation together for once. You remember the pictures you’d received from your mother the night they got into town. She was quick to spam you with pictures of your little pink haired friend who had grown even taller since the last time you’d seen him. She’d also sent a photo of all four of the brothers sitting at your dinner table, just as they always did on your first night in town since you were all kids.

It was reminiscent of all the summers you’d spent together growing up, except there was a noticeable gap where you’d usually be sitting, right between Choso and Yuji. As your eyes roamed over every detail, every way the boys had grown and changed, you couldn’t help the pang of disappointment you felt from missing out on this. You wanted to see them, hug them, be with them and enjoy your summer together. But you couldn’t. And it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

It hurt that you wouldn’t spend days and nights at the beach. You wouldn’t be taking Yuji all over the town with you and spoiling him rotten like you always have. You wouldn’t be climbing out of your bedroom window to sneak out to parties. You wouldn’t be working the summer at Panda’s, closing shop and sitting at the shoreline to watch the sunsets with Choso.

Choso…

Your eyes were locked on the tall figure in the photo and you found yourself pinching your thumb and index finger together, pressing them to your phone screen before expanding and zooming in on the picture. He was wearing his signature tiny smile that he reserved only for you and your family. Those same pigtails that have sat atop his head since he was 10 years old were still there, but that baby face was long gone. He was all chiseled jawline and sharp cheekbones now, even more handsome than when you saw him last summer, if possible, and your heart fluttered at the thought. 

You stared at those dark eyes that had peered into yours that cool summer night last year as he leaned closer, those soft lips that pressed against your mouth as you exchanged your first kisses with each other. Those lips…they consumed your thoughts. Those lips that uttered those three words that still kept you up at night as they echoed through your mind:

“Just one more.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, to the tips of your ears and you could hear the blood rushing through your body as the memories played clearly through your mind.

The slight tilt of Choso’s head as he deepened the kiss just barely. The way you gasped when his tongue gently ran along the seam of your lip. How he sighed, low and deep when he heard the little sounds you were making and all because of him.

Neither you nor Choso have spoken about your first kiss since it happened. He’d walked you home from the beach that night, hugged you tight one last time and then you spent the remainder of the night clutching at your chest, desperately willing your heart to calm down.

“You still there?” Choso’s voice pulls you from your trip down memory lane and you clear your throat to buy yourself time to gather your thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just…I’m sad. I’m glad everyone’s doing well, but I almost feel like I missed a part of that because I didn’t go back to the beach for the summer.” You fall back onto your bed with a groan. “I miss you.”

The words fall from your lips easily, though your eyes widen when you realize what you’ve said. While you had never been one to sugarcoat your words with Choso, you couldn’t help but feel as though those simple words held more weight since the kiss.

Choso doesn’t seem to be having the same thoughts, because he quickly replies with an, “I miss you, too.”

And just like that, the conversation picks right back up.

It’s easy with Choso. It’s always easy. You sometimes forget just how easy it is.

- - - - - - - -

That breather you thought you’d be getting for winter break? Yeah, that didn’t happen.

Could it be because your first year of college hadn’t gone according to plan which resulted in you ending the year with a lower than desired grade point average? Who could say? That wasn’t important anyway. The important thing was that you’d opted to take Winter classes as well. Because your life wasn’t already hell Monday through Friday during the spring and fall semesters. Not to mention the summer classes you’d taken earlier in the year that had kept you from being able to tag along on your annual beach trip.

College was turning out to be more of a drag than anything. Luckily, you had made plenty of friends here that made the fact you were missing out on these things a lot more bearable.

It was during the Winter semester that you’d met Iori Utahime, a beautiful young woman with a curious scar across her face that somehow only added to her stunning looks. The two of you had quickly hit it off, both wanting to take your studies seriously and needing someone to hold the other accountable for reaching their goal. Utahime wanted to pursue a career in music and while your majors differed, you were still artists just the same. 

Your similarities didn’t end there either. You shared core classes and unfortunately also shared struggling GPAs, which only brought you closer to each other. So when you found yourselves paired up for a project for one of your Winter courses, you soon found yourselves together more often than not.

And she’d introduced you to more friends as time went on.

There was Satoru. Satoru was goofy. That was the best way to describe him. He never took anything seriously, because everything was easy for him. Seriously. He was a genius who never needed to study because he just knew he’d ace his exams. Because of this, he was all about enjoying the college experience.

You could catch Satoru at every party, the center of attention everywhere he went. He was Mr. Popular. There was no one on campus who did not know who Satoru Gojo was. Almost every student on campus either wanted him or wanted to be him. And although you didn't share the same desires as them, you could see the appeal. 

Satoru was tall. Way too tall. And had the strangest hair color you’d ever seen– stark white and so messy. He claimed it was natural, though you had your doubts. In a way, his hair reminded you oddly of Choso, if only because you could only think about how it was the total opposite of your friends. And his eyes…they also reminded you of Choso. Because they were as blue as the ocean you’d sat in front of many times with him. As blue as the waters that had brought you to Choso in the first place. 

But that was where the similarities ended. Satoru was carefree, going with the flow whenever he could. He never planned for anything, he just let things happen. And he bugged Utahime in a way you couldn’t understand. It’s not really like he had to do much in the first place to get under her skin. All he needed to do was breathe within the same vicinity as Utahime and she was going ballistic. And Satoru seemed to love that.

There was Suguru, Satoru’s best friend. Or more? You could never quite tell with those two. He also reminded you of Choso in a way. Not physically, but general demeanor. Suguru was quieter, more observant than Satoru. He was thoughtful and kind, not abrasive at all; soft spoken in a way that made you feel as though he truly cared for you. And you liked that about him.

When out, you’d often find yourself next to Suguru. His presence was warm and comforting, almost familiar. You felt safe and protected with him and you knew that if Suguru was with you, you could just count on him to look out for you. You’d grown close fairly quickly and had established a friendship outside of your immediate friend group. You spent a lot of time together, but there was never any connection between you two aside from friendship.

And then there was the last of your group – Shoko. Clearly there was something going on between her and Utahime. But if you asked either of them, they'd quickly deny it. None of you were dumb, even with your low GPAs. The stolen glances, the touches they thought you all didn’t notice, the way one always ended up leaving exactly three minutes before the other decided to call it a night.

You found it very amusing, the way they thought none of you knew what was going on.

Their situation made you think more about Choso and how he –

Wait.

Why were you thinking about Choso so much? Why did everything suddenly remind you of him? You couldn’t think about any of your new friends without comparing them to Choso. Even after all this time.

After your last summer vacation, Choso had spent a good amount of time on your mind. But it’s been almost two years now. A second summer vacation was coming up and you were once again abandoning plans to go to the beach with your family and opting to take more summer courses to boost your GPA.

And it wasn’t as though you’d spoken to Choso much, either. Between your studies and his own life happenings, there wasn’t much time to chat. You carve out time when you can and appreciate the usual nightcap you both share every so often. But you're busy with your studies and Choso…well…

When your second year of college began, that was also when Choso had broken the sad news to you that college would be put on hold for him indefinitely.

“It’s my dad,” he’d told you. “Fucker just up and left and we haven’t heard from him since. Not that I should be surprised. I guess I'm only shocked it took him so long.”

You could hear the words come through gritted teeth, how he’d tried to hide the venom that dripped from each syllable. He was beyond pissed. You knew Choso better than you knew any other friend. There was no better way to get on his bad side than to mess with his beloved siblings. 

But you knew more than anything that Choso was disappointed, crestfallen even.

For Choso, getting out of that small beach town and getting an education was his path to a better life for himself and for his brothers. His father taking that from him felt like the ultimate betrayal. What could you even say to lift his spirits at that point?

“I'm so sorry, Cho. Fuck, I'm sorry.” 

It didn't feel like enough.

You checked in with him when you could. And he checked in with you when he could, but he was busy working. He’d accepted a full time position as a manager at Panda’s and had even told you a spot would be there for when you returned the next summer.

But it looked like someone else would have to fill the position this year.

You missed your vacations back to your second home. You missed the warmth of the sand beneath your feet and the smell of the salty ocean air as you all spent your days at the beach. You missed scooping ice cream at Panda’s and doodling the horizon in your sketchbook from your spot behind the counter when work was slow. You missed sneaking out to bonfires and having Choso toss you his sweater the moment you landed in his arms in nothing but the shorts and bikini tops he so hated.

You missed Choso.

That last night at the beach revealed to you for the first time that you may have feelings for your best friend that are more than just friendship. Freshly 18 year old you with almost no prior dating history hardly knew what those feelings meant. But almost 20 year old you, well it's been loud and clear for some time that this has slowly become more than some childish crush. 

You like Choso. 

The whispered call of your name pulls you from your spiraling thoughts and you look up to find Satoru’s bright eyes staring questioningly at you from across the table. You’d all met up in the library to study for your exam coming up at the end of the week. Of course he was checking in because you’d zoned out in the middle of your cram session to daydream about your long distance crush.

Except, that wasn’t why Satoru was checking in at all.

It’s only when Satoru waves his hand next to him that you see another tall figure standing beside the table. Your eyes roam up his form until they land on his face. And it surprises you when you feel your heart kickstart and begin racing.

Because you thought only Choso could get that reaction from you. 

“This is Kaito,” Satoru introduces him and Kaito smiles, eyes locked on yours and you think you can hear your heart pounding in your chest.

Kaito is tall, slender, but not in the way Satoru is. If anything, you’d say he has the same body type as Suguru. He’s lean. You can tell from the way his clothes accentuate his form that he’s fit.  And he’s got the most beautiful smile, teeth so brilliantly white that you’re nervous to see how brightly they shine in the sun. Gorgeous emerald green eyes sit beneath long black lashes and wow, he is really fucking good looking.

He politely introduces himself, running his hand through a messy black wolfcut as he takes the seat right beside you after Suguru heads to his next class. 

You all resume studying shortly after Satoru’s friend’s arrival. Kaito seems to fit right in, quickly becoming friendly with the rest of the group and you. But you soon notice that Kaito has taken quite a liking to you.

Again, 20 year old you is not as clueless as you used to be and the attention he focuses on you is giving you an insane amount of butterflies.

You catch his little glimpses at you from the corner of your eye, the way he’s quick to lean over and help you resolve an equation you were stuck on, the way he never breaks eye contact with you when you’re speaking with him. Like every word that leaves your mouth is the most important thing he’s ever heard.

“So yeah, that’s why hot cheetos are like the best chip there are.” You finish your rant, beaming because you finally got to tell someone your true feelings about this.

“Absolutely…fascinating…” Utahime comments sarcastically. She’d stopped listening to your rambling ages ago, nose buried in her textbook.

Shoko and Satoru had left to get refreshments so unfortunately for them, they'd missed the entire thing.

But Kaito, you’ve got his full attention. “No, really. It’s truly fascinating. I’d love to hear more.”

His grin has your tummy squeezing, that sweet tickle returning and you find yourself smiling right back despite your little epiphany about your feelings regarding your childhood friend just moments before Kaito showed up.

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

A loud slurping can be heard from across the table, effectively popping the little bubble that you and Kaito had suddenly found yourselves in. On the other side of the table sits Satoru, back from his trip to the cafe, guzzling a sweet juice while he watches you and Kaito talk over the rim of his glasses. Next to him, Utahime’s face is twisted into a look of pure hatred and disgust. Satoru ignores it.

“Y’all should go out,” Satoru suggests casually, like he’s talking about something as unimportant as the weather. “Talk about animal crackers or whatever the hell.”

Shoko snorts as she discreetly slides a snack over to Utahime while no one is looking. Except everyone sees it anyway because these two are so fucking obvious.

“Yeah, go out,” Shoko also chimes in. “Think you two would make a great couple.”

Your face ignites with heat, the sudden idea making you want to kick Satoru and Shoko under the table.

But Kaito smirks, eyes holding your gaze like they have been this entire time and he says, “I’d like that. Can I?”

You glance at Utahime who stares at you in surprise. 

“Um…can you what?” You question, trying to buy yourself time to think.

“Can I take you out? Like, on a date.” His response is quick. It’s so easy for him. He just spits it out and says what he wants. And you’re sitting here still freaking out just over Satoru’s suggestion.

“I…”

“If I bring hot cheetos with me, would that make it more tempting?” He’s so charming, and cute, and sweet and–

Ugh, what reason do you have to say no to him?

The sudden vision of pigtails flashes through your mind. And suddenly, the excitement you were feeling seems to fall away. And Kaito seems to sense it, because his grin falters a little, becoming just a small smile on his lips and he simply nods and gives you a “sure” when you ask him, “Can I get back to you?”

- - - - - - - -

“I met someone today,” you speak quietly into the phone, lying in bed after leaving your study date with your friends. You’re nervous. Probably because you’re testing the waters here. Probably because your walk back to your dorm after Kaito had asked you out was eye opening. 

Can you really open yourself to date someone else seriously when your thoughts are plagued by another man? Can you open yourself to the possibility of being with someone else when the person you want to be with is hundreds of miles away, in some little beach town?

Because that's what you've come to realize. You want to be with Choso. 

You just need to know if he feels the same way you do. You have an idea of how Choso feels about you based on the last time you’d seen each other. But that doesn’t make you feel any less like digging a hole in the ground and burying yourself in embarrassment thinking about bringing any of this up. 

“Oh yeah? Another new friend?” Choso asks distantly. He’s currently at Panda’s closing shop, so he’s got you on speaker while he completes his nightly tasks. You were happy (maybe too happy) when he'd answered your call tonight. 

“Sort of a friend, sure…He’s nice…”

You’re hoping he’ll take the hint quickly here.

But when Choso just gives you an absentminded “that’s cool”, you know you’ve only got half of his attention. And you want all of it.

“Yeah. His name is Kaito. Really nice guy.” And it’s true. You think Kaito is nice, but you think Choso is nicer. That's not to say you're not into Kaito either. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him. But you’d also be lying if you said you weren’t interested in Choso as well. Maybe more than you are Kaito. Because for you, you’re pretty sure it will always be Choso. Even though you've never had anyone else, you know you don't need to. It's Choso for you.

That is why your thoughts have been consumed with him. This revelation has been so freeing.

You just need to know if he feels the same. 

“Glad you’re meeting new people.”

He’s still distracted, the sounds of him pushing the chairs around the store’s lobby echoing through the phone. You didn’t want to have to show your hand so quickly, but you’re tired from a long day of studying and tired from years of beating around the bush. It’s been over a decade of your feelings slowly building for Choso and now your heart is ready to burst. You have no choice but to push this conversation along a little faster.

“Yeah, his name is Kaito. He asked me out on a date actually.”

And finally, you get an actual reaction from Choso. Not a grunt, not a hum in reply or some offhand comment. Instead, you hear him shuffling around, then the sound of tapping on his phone, likely taking you off of the speaker. His voice comes through, crisp and clear now.

“Sorry,” he apologizes through quick breaths. “What was that?”

“I said Kaito asked me out on a date…this weekend.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep,” you reply cheerily, hopefully driving the knife a little deeper. Immature, sure, but at this point you’d do anything to get Choso a little closer to saying whether or not he has any feelings for you, if he wants you in the same way you want him. “Probably dinner at his place. Maybe a movie. Not sure yet.”

Choso hums quietly. “And you like this guy…that you just met…today…Kaito…” He says his name like he’s testing it on his tongue.

“He’s really nice.”

“As you’ve said.”

You’re about taken aback by the sudden bite in Choso’s tone, but you ignore his snarkiness. “I don't know how I feel about him yet.”

“Clearly you like him enough to be telling me about him.”

More bite behind his words. Still, you push forward. “I mean, is that bad?” You adjust the phone, moving it to your other ear as you get comfortable beneath your blankets. “You’re my friend, right?”

“Sure, but we don’t talk about stuff like this.”

And he had a point. Even during your summers entertaining Mahito, Choso never wanted to hear about any conversations you had with him. And it’s not like you had that many interactions with him anyway since Choso seemed to always be there whenever the silver haired boy was near you. And you had friends back home to talk about your school girl crushes that never resulted in anything with. 

Aside from your first encounter with Mahito, Choso had also never discussed whether or not you were ever interested in anyone romantically and you had never thought to ask him either. Granted, you only saw each other over the summers and during the year, school kept you both so busy, you couldn’t worry about dating. Your parents were never against it and you'd gone to a movie or two with people who had asked you out, but it was never serious. You didn't care enough to commit to anyone, too focused on trying to get into a good school.

In the summers, the last thing on your mind was asking Choso if he had feelings for anyone else. Most of the time he was with you, anyway. And when he wasn't, he was with his brothers. 

You'd never given thought to Choso…desiring anyone.

Suddenly, the thought of Choso with someone else makes your stomach churn, has your head spinning. Choso in someone else’s arms, hugging someone else, kissing someone else’s lips.

Oh, it has your blood boiling in a way you’ve never experienced before and you try not to sound too petulant when you finally mutter, “Yeah, but I want to talk to you about it now.”

“But why?” He sounds thoroughly confused. You try not to sigh into the receiver. 

“Choso…we’ve literally kissed before, but talking about crushes is where you draw the line?”

It’s the first time either of you have ever mentioned the kiss, now a memory that continues to plague your thoughts and your dreams. 

“Even weirder reason to talk to me about this,” you hear him mumble on the other end.

“How? We’re adults! We can talk about things like that. Besides…” you fiddle with your blanket, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. “It’s really not weird at all…unless the kiss meant something…more to you?”

You’re met with silence. A long stretch of silence that has you fidgeting anxiously. You almost want to laugh, say “I’m just kidding!” and hang up. But then Choso surprises you. He speaks so quietly, you almost don’t hear it over the thundering of your own heart.

“Did it mean something to you?”

Of course it did. What a stupid question. That silly little first kiss and those lips of Choso’s have been eating away at your brain for almost two years. Saying it meant something to you felt like the understatement of the century. You want to scream out loud that that kiss meant everything to you and you’re sorry it took you so long to stop being an idiot and realize that yes, the kiss was more than that. It opened the door for you to realize exactly how you felt about Choso. 

But even so, you still answer with a very quiet “yes”.

And because it’s Choso, who has never lied to you a day in his life, he responds without hesitation. “Me too.”

Finally! The confirmation you were waiting for! The kiss meant something to Choso, too. You weren’t crazy!

“I’ve been thinking about it since it happened. A lot,” Choso confesses.

“Me too. Probably way too much.”

Choso chuckles, which makes you laugh in turn. It’s the answer you wanted to hear from him, but now that that’s out there and your heart is calming down just a bit, it gives your brain enough time to catch up. And now, you’re a little confused.

“Wait. Why’d you tell me I should go out with Kaito?” You laugh again; half from nerves, half from feeling so silly that you used the guy as bait instead of just outright asking Choso how he felt.

The silence has suddenly returned and any semblance of humor seconds ago has now vanished. Now, you feel nervous again. Like your gut is telling you to end this call immediately. This is the calm before the storm and that knife you were twisting into Choso’s back to try and urge an honest response from him soon finds its way into yours when Choso says, “Because you should.”

The knife twists.

“You like him, don’t you? Go on a date with him.”

“Ha ha.” It’s all you can think to say, because it’s keeping the pain at bay for just a second longer. Only a second longer.

“I’m being serious.”

Another twist. And the sting begins to settle in.

“Choso…”

He says your name back to you. “Do you like him?”

“I like you.” It’s the first time you’ve openly admitted it to him. A few seconds pass by with no response, so you keep talking, if only to fill the silence. “Obviously you feel the same way or that kiss wouldn’t be on your mind two years later, right?”

Choso sighs softly. How can he be so calm and collected when you’re sitting here just now realizing that you’re shaking, nearly vibrating out of your skin.

“I like you, too,” he finally admits. “Have for a long time. Couldn’t tell you when it started, but it’s been for as long as I can remember. So yeah, I feel the same.”

“Okay…” You should feel calmer now, confident in the fact that your feelings for each other are out in the open. But that sharp sting of rejection is slowly starting to build, the knife in your back ready to bury itself deeper. “But?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you. There’s a but coming…isn’t there?”

Another bout of silence and you’re starting to lose your mind having to sit through it. This is not how you expected this conversation to go. And you blame yourself for the way it feels like your heart is going to beat straight through your ribcage and fall flat to the floor.

“But I can’t do anything about these…feelings.” He spits the last word out like it’s bitter. “There’s no future where we could ever be together.”

The knife sinks in.

“Why not?”

“Because–”

“And don’t give me some bullshit reason, either.” You cut him off. Because you don’t want excuses. You want honesty, like Choso has always given you.

“What’s a bullshit reason to you?” His tone is snippy again.

What is a bullshit reason? You don’t know. All you know is that you have feelings for this man who once pulled you from certain death over a decade ago. And he has feelings for you, too! He just told you so! You want to be with him, but he doesn’t seem to want to be with you even if he hasn’t said so yet.

Ironically, all this makes you feel like you’re drowning all over again, struggling to pull your head above the water but going nowhere. It's Choso holding you under instead of pulling you out this time.

“...I don’t know,” you finally answer.

“I do,” Choso responds tersely. “I can give you a reason. Hell, I can give you two, three, maybe even four reasons why we can’t be together.”

“Cho–”

“But I don’t need all of those reasons. I only need one – I’m no good for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Choso, you’ve been my best friend practically my whole life. I cannot think of a single person better for me than you.”

He sighs your name, calling for your attention, but you keep going. “And you know me better than anyone else. I know you better than anyone else–”

Choso says your name again, a little harsher this time. You keep on.

“Besides, you said yourself how that kiss stays on your mind. It’s always on my mind too and we can–”

“Stop!” Choso’s harsh voice cuts through your droning. This time, you can’t ignore the snippiness. Never, in all the time that you’ve known Choso, has he raised his voice at you. At least, not in anger or annoyance. Maybe when you were kids, because kids yell. Kids are loud and bossy and Choso was both of those things as a kid. He was always yelling. But he had never yelled at you the way he just had.

You’re so shocked, your mind so suddenly frazzled, that you can’t bring yourself to respond.

“Why are you insisting on this?” Choso sighs, trying to calm himself, but his voice is still coming out a lot rougher than it ever has in your direction. And it’s hurting you in ways you hadn’t known possible, your little heart beginning to crack within your chest.

“I...I just thought –”

“Thought what, exactly?” Choso asks, a dry chuckle following. “Thought that we’d confess that we have feelings for each other and then we-we’d talk about our futures, make plans to be together forever and ever and then sail off into the sunset?”

“I mean–”

“No.”

That’s all he says.

“No?” You’ll need more than that.

“No. There will be no talking about futures together, making plans, sailing off into the sunset…none of it.”

Those little cracks in your heart start to spread, slowly chipping away. That sharp knife you were twisting into Choso’s back is now lodged deep into your own and it’s fucking killing you slowly.

“I don’t–” Your voice is quivering now and you have to take a deep inhale to steady yourself. “I don’t understand. If I have feelings for you, and you have feelings for me…you said the kiss meant more to you!”

“And I meant that.”

“Then why?! Why are you doing this? Is this because of Kaito?”

“Yes!”

“ I–I barely know him! I only brought him up being childish. I was hoping you would realize you had feelings for me. That’s it! I want to be with you!”

“But you should be with someone like him.” Choso’s voice is quiet now, the harshness of it finally gone. “It wouldn't have mattered if it was Kaito or Utahime or whats the other guy? Suguru? I can’t give you what he– what anyone who isn’t me can.”

Now you’re lost. “What?”

“I can’t be what you need me to be. I can’t be the boyfriend you need, the support you’d need if I were to become your boyfriend…”

It’s embarrassing how quickly you feel the tears brimming along your waterline. How your heart shatters into pieces as he lists off the reasons he isn’t good enough for you.

“Look at my fucked up life. No mother, a deadbeat piece of shit for a father, three brothers that I’m solely responsible for and have been for practically my entire life…” He says your name, like a plea, begging for you to listen to him. Like you should take his word for it and simply accept it.

But you won’t accept it.

“I know all of that, Choso. I know you and what you’ve been through – what you’re going through – better than anyone else. And I still want you.”

Now you say his name like a plea, begging for him to hear you and your words. You don’t care about his struggles, about how he’s had to keep his family together his entire life, forced to grow up too quickly and become the glue that holds everything together. You were there for all of that up until recently. And even through it all, you always found your way back to Choso. That won’t change now.

The quiet drags on, just dead air hanging between you two and when he finally speaks, he surprises you. “And I want you, too.” He tells you, lifting your spirits ever so slightly.

Then just as quickly, he breaks you. Again.

“But I’m doing you a favor, so please. Just go date whoever you want, whoever’s good to you.”

“Choso–” Your voice breaks, your lip trembling as you try to fight the sob threatening to crawl up your throat.

“Please.” You hear the way Choso’s voice cracks in a similar manner. Like he has a sob to match your own trying to escape as well. “You…God, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Don’t waste it on someone like me. You have everything going for you. I have nothing going for me. Just some loser working a deadend job in the same deadend town I’ve always been in and will probably always be in. And I refuse to drag you down with me. I’m looking out for you…Like I’ve always tried to do.”

Your protector.

Even when you don’t want him to be. Even when you wish he wouldn’t be. Even when it hurts you.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you,” Choso tells you. “I do. Fuck, believe me when I say that. I would love nothing more than that because I've wanted it for so long…but you deserve so much more than this.”

“You are not a loser, Choso. Just…stop. I think we can–”

“I have to go,” He interrupts. “Need to finish this stuff up and head home. Yuuji has a project due tomorrow that I need to help with.” He’s quiet again, but you can just make out the sound of him sniffling, choking down that same sob before he says, “I’ll talk to you later.”

Choso ends the call abruptly, before you can even say goodbye, and the shakiness of his voice stays with you for the rest of the night. Even as you shower, numb to the excruciating heat of the water. As you brush your teeth and crawl beneath your sheets where you finally allow your heart to fully crumple. Even then, you hear the clear tremble of Choso’s words.

It hurts. This is a pain you don’t have any experience with. You don't know what to do with it. This is a pain you’d hoped you would never have to feel. And you never expected your best friend to be the one to cause it.

But you’re hopeful that you two will be able to patch things up. That you two will be able to go back to normal, even if things are awkward for a bit. Because you don’t want to lose Choso. He’s your very best friend, long distance or not. He means way too much to you for your crush to get in the way. You just hope you haven’t ruined things between you two.

Besides, he did say he would talk to you later. You take solace in that, finally letting sleep take over even as your tears still fall.

If only you’d have known that when you opened your eyes the next morning and opened your phone to send an apology text to Choso, that your text would fail to go through. 

If only you’d known that you would go to check Choso’s social media pages only to see blank screens because he’d apparently blocked you. You'd search through every account he has on every social media platform and find yourself no longer able to see any of his information.

“I refuse to drag you down with me.” Those words play on a loop in your mind.

He really meant it.

[bearimba]

Ok wait I have vague GIG(G)S ideas:

Impulse: an Experienced Ghost Hunter(TM)!

He worked for whoever the in-game company is (they don't have a canon name as far as I'm aware?) for a while before going independent.

Accidentally made a pact** with a demon during his early days and is now racing to reverse it before he dies and his soul gets eaten

Something about the pact gives him plot armor so he's lowkey immune to dying (yes this is counterproductive. no I don't know why/how this works yet. probably something happened to make the contract go awry)

Surprise surprise, making deals with a demon goes against company policy, but breaking the pact like they want would also probably kill him. He makes a get-away by stealing their van, and since he's got the equipment and skills for it, he continues ghost-hunting to make a living while on the run.

He also offers services as an electrician on the side just for extra cash, which is great because faulty electronics is often a sign of EMF stuff.

He gets little demon horns? Maybe? It's for the vibe (and maybe a tail too, to hold his lighter with)

The cheat sheet is just a journal (or maybe a collection of journals?) full of notes he's taken over the years

Skizz: a literal and metaphorical angel*!

For backstory and world-building reasons I haven't figured out yet, he forms a sin-eating pact** with Impulse, and that's why they stick together (besides the fact they enjoy each other's company, of course).

He's a tradesman on the side just like Impulse, but he does more home-repair and carpentry stuff.

All his clothes are torn-up because he keeps dying in stupid ways, but he hasn't replaced them yet because he insists it makes him look cool.

He's in charge of taking pictures because his ✨angelic presence✨ counteracts the EMF stuff that messes up the camera. They used to have a much nicer one that wasn't affected by EMF back when Impulse first started, but they managed to break it and haven't been able to afford one like it since.

Honestly I don't have enough headcanons for him yet and it makes me sad :(

Gem: a totally normal… individual!

You heard of not-deer? Yeah, it's kinda like that >:]c Has she been replaced? Was she once Gem but has been transformed into something else? Has she always been this way and no one noticed until now? Who knows!

She and Grian met in middle school while causing trouble in the same arts class and have been buddies ever since.

She liked to spend a lot of time in the woods near her home partially due to a casual interest in botany and partially because she and Grian could get up to shenanigans without getting caught. Even when they moved to a different country for college (it was the only university they could find that offered decent programs for both architecture and medical science, not to mention his cousin offered to let them stay at his place rent-free), she enjoyed driving out to the nearby national park to hang out. That park was also her last-reported location before she went missing.

If you look too close, there's subtle details that hint that something's not quite right---eyes that reflect light, limbs that are a little longer than they used to be, very sparse blinking, and a smile that's a little too wide...

Grian was going to be her first victim. He was an easy target, after all---unlikely be missed under the right circumstances, and scatterbrained enough to fall for her tricks---but there was never a good time to strike without blowing her cover. Eventually, the cravings for human died down completely, and she (mostly) forgot he was supposed to be her meal instead of her best friend.

She likes to study other people and mimic their behavior, and she's gotten a lot better at it than she used to be when she first reappeared.

Imp and Skizz both realize there's something off about her, but she's not exactly aggressive or anything, so they just let her be. It doesn't help that whenever they try to question Grian about it, he insists there's nothing wrong.

She usually stays in the van because for some strange reason, the ghosts don't like to appear when she's around.

Although she didn't get to study anything in-depth, she does have more medical knowledge than the rest of the crew, and getting her to help is cheaper than going to a doctor.

Grian: a blind clairvoyant!

Despite Gem's disappearance, Grian managed to pull himself together enough to continue college in the fall. But about halfway through his degree, Jimmy pulled him along to study in a supposedly haunted part of the library because no one else would bother them there, during which the whole building experienced a blackout. The staff fixed it quickly enough, but when the lights came back on, Jimmy was confronted with a knocked-out Grian. For the rest of the semester, he'd be plagued by headaches, insomnia, sleepwalking outside and sleeptalking about the moon and eyes, paranoia, periods of amnesia, and other symptoms that almost made him drop out of college.

Ever since, he's had has this uncanny intuition for when something's about to go wrong and often suddenly knows things without any explanation as to how. Skizz swears it's like he's got eyes in the back of his head or something.

When Gem popped up right after he graduated and suggested to him that they leave on a long roadtrip, he wasn't really in a state of mind to question it. He just thought it would be a good chance to get his head on straight, and strangely enough, just being near Gem helps him to think much more clearly. He just assumes it's because they're such good friends.

He gets possessed at Point Hope, and although the crew manages to exorcise him, he still occasionally gets the urge to set sail and never come back. He's also noticed a lot more mollusks in strange places since then, though surely that must be unrelated...

Scar: a lovable salesman!

He's also considered an angel*, and he definitely likes to play the part to sell his wares.

The GIGS crew buys their supplies from him since certified sources are rare and trustworthy vendors are even rarer. Scar is still a pretty shifty guy, but he hasn't let them down yet---killing off his customers beloved friends would be bad business, after all!

He lives on the road just like GIGS for his own reasons, so they have to arrange to meet with him way both they run out of supplies.

His previous life is a well-kept secret, but he had an interest in the occult even before he became an angel. He claims it was to contact his old pets from beyond the grave, but unsurprisingly, no one quite believes him.

He loves to make outdated references, but no one knows if it's because he's that old or he's just a nerd.

Sometimes he'll join the crew on an investigation for fun, but he dies more often than not, and recovery is so inconvenient that he doesn't like to be on-site very often.

The crew:

They mostly deal in ghost identification, but they do offer extermination for an extra fee. It's more expensive than companies that specialize in extermination, but that's just the price for convenient/speedy service.

Each person has an unofficial role with Impulse as the ringleader, Skizz as the photographer, Gem as the man in the chair, and Grian as the odd-jobber. Of course, everyone has a little experience with everything, but they're most comfortable like this.

They all live in the van, and will usually stay in a town for anywhere from a few days to a couple months depending on how much work is available.

They tend to stay nights at motels and the like, but when money's short or there's nowhere to stay nearby, Imp and Skizz usually sleep in the cab of the truck while Grain and Gem get to camp in the back with sleeping bags.

Pay is split five ways: each member gets a set stipend for personal stuff, and the rest goes towards "work expenses" such as food, motel fees, gas, and the occasional treat for a job well done.

Other appearances:

Pearl, a mysterious woman with a wolfish grin and strange knack for attracting the supernatural.

Jimmy, Grian's well-meaning cousin who accidentally gets Grian possessed, freaks out when he goes no-contact on a sudden "road trip" with someone who's been presumed dead, and then nearly dies himself after an investigation gone wrong.

Lizzie (Jimmy's cousin on the other side) and her husband Joel, who contact GIGS for help and are surprised to find two old acquaintances among them (which is how Jimmy finds Grian again).

Ze and his new colleague Sneeg, two employees of Imp's old company that they run into at a haunting that got double-booked.

BDubs ("is that even a name?" "shut up. like you can judge, Mr. 'my-name-is-Grian-not-Grain.'" "yeah--- well--- at least I'm not named after some stupid stars!"), a very concerned patron who insists on supervising the investigation and gets roped into helping.

Ghostie-ghoulie stuff:

The supernatural is common enough to be recognized but isn't typically considered a part of everyday life.

"Ghost" refers to any supernatural creature that forms from human souls, which mean their appearences and attributes can vary just as much as human personalities. However, their traits can be greatly affected by the circumstances in which they were created (aka how a person died), so there's enough commonality to classify them.

Just like any other being, ghosts need energy to function. They absorb this energy in the form of heat and expel it and electromagnetic radiation. If they output enough of this radiation, they can create EMFs that can be detected by readers. This is also why haunted areas tend to be cold and events/hunts can be tracked by spikes in EMF levels.

If ghosts aren't formed enough enough energy to subsist right off the bat, they can wither away without intervention.

Most ghosts the GIGS that exist are fairly new, so they aren't strong enough to kill anyone. It usually takes at least a year of residence for enough EMF to gather for them to mess with the environment, and even longer to cause events. However, the older a ghost is, the more its sentience slips away.

The reason ghosts kill can vary wildly and may even depend on the type of ghost. Some ghosts are simply territorial, some hold grudges towards the living (though they aren't always aware enough to realize what/why), and some even want to possess the living.

Possessions are incredibly rare because it takes an immense amount of energy to possess someone, but most ghosts are no longer sentient to want such a thing by the time they've amassed enough power. Possession of a living body is even harder for the exact same reason.

*Angels and demons don't actually have anything to do with Christian mythology. Unlike other ghosts, neither are fully dead. The link between their soul and body is just messed up, though due to the rarity of both entities, how exactly this occurs is severely under-researched. For demons, their soul has been banished from their body (the still-functioning body is called a zombie and can be killed to destroy the demon), and their creation typically happens within an abundance of "bad energy" (ex: violent murder). On the other hand, angels are permanently bonded to their bodies and are created in the presence of "good energy" (ex: heroic sacrifice). They can also be killed by destroying their bodies, but unlike demons, the fact that their soul remains inside the body means they're able to regenerate even though the scars always remain. Both entities can rot (not age) to death within the average human lifespan but can prolong the wait by consuming energy, and both tend to have very clumsy/uncoordinated bodies due to the messed up soul link.

**Also, although it costs demons a lot of energy to form a pact with humans (and again, the manner in which a pact is formed/maintained is unknown), the fulfillment of a contract will grant them much more power than they out into it---it's bascially an investment. Angels can do a similar things called "sin-eating" but it works in reverse: it takes a little energy to make the pact, but the fullfilment will drain them greatly (no I don't exactly know how this works yet either. but it sounds cool so I'm keeping it >:]c )

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 40 (Spending the Night)

cw: mid-level spice? 🌶️🌶️ (I'd call it low but I don't know people's thresholds. If there's an official simblr threshold for this kind of cw I don't know it, sorry! No actual nudity.)

Conrad's apartment in the Arts Quarter wasn't far from the festival grounds, and when they arrived, Gord greeted the flirty pair at the door with a friendly tail wag.

They took him downstairs and let him run around, ensuring he did his business before returning to the outdated suite Conrad called home. Gord raced to his spot on the small sofa in the open kitchen and living space and Conrad flashed a nervous smile.

He set his keys on a shelf laden with knick-knacks someone might have had in the last century. It looked a bit like a dingy motel room, like the ones Heather and her family stayed in on the way to their vacations in Granite Falls.

"I know the place isn't much," he said. "When he retired, my dad got it furnished from some old lady who used to frequent flea markets every Sunday. Rent's cheap, location's great, but I wasn't a very good son when he was alive. I was back and forth from college, still dealing with my mom's death, hanging out with the wrong people."

"Conrad, I'm sorry. I didn't know both your parents were gone."

He shrugged, masking grief he'd buried well all these years. "It's not easy, but I was looking for any way I could to feel closer to him, so I took over the lease here after he died. But he didn't change anything, and I'm usually too busy with work to spend much time here, as it is. Gord likes the sofa. I do have an old Unix I play around with for fun, but I've never really had to think about impressing company with the place. Until now."

"I don't care what it looks like," Heather said. "I came up to spend time with you tonight, not your apartment."

Still buzzing from the effects of the Sakura tea, she leaned in to kiss him. Her lips travelled softly down his neck. He grinned from her touch, but pulled back. "Wait, wait. This is fast. Just let me catch my breath a minute."

"Sorry." She buried her swooning head in her hands. "I'm usually the one slowing things down. It's just...the tea, and...and you."

His breathing grew heavier. "I want you," he said. "But I also like you. I haven't stopped thinking about you since the day I knocked on your door. I don't want you to think I brought you back here just to do this."

"I don't think that. I like you, too. So much it scares me a little."

"I scare you?"

"No, I'm afraid of myself. I'm the one who makes rash decisions and gets tangled up with the Landgraabs - who despise me."

"The Landgraabs have no taste," he laughed. "Which is all the better for me."

He leaned in for another kiss, dragging her to the sofa while Gord made himself scarce.

A hunger took them over, perhaps drenched in too much Sakura tea, but they gave in to the passion bleeding through their skin. Twice.

They slept soundly for a few hours until sunlight poured over the Myshuno Hills, breaking through Conrad's small bedroom window. As they stirred, he pulled back the covers to admire her in the daylight. She blushed, pulling him in for a kiss before she stood to get dressed.

"I want to see you again soon," he said. "I'll bring Gord to the coast later this week, hang out with you and Ash."

She smiled. "I'd love that."

Before she made it down the elevator, her phone vibrated from an incoming text. Would it be too soon to call you my girlfriend? She grinned.

Not too soon. I like the way that sounds. She took screenshots and sent the texts to Holly, and her sister sent back enthusiastic support with a half dozen heart emojis.

Heather felt like a lovestruck teenager again. But this time the boy on the other end of the phone didn't make her question anything about their connection.

Yet when she picked up her son from Malcolm’s penthouse, she didn’t mention Conrad. They were trying to make peace, consciously, for the sake of their son, but she still didn't trust him. He and Conrad had a history, and Heather didn't want his opinion. Not yet.

For now, at least, she was happy to have something in her life that Malcolm and the Landgraabs didn't know anything about. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Me, tossing Conrad into the cheapest apartment in the city so he'd have more money when he eventually (hopefully) moves in, without considering the aesthetics of this eventual moment? Typical.

WCIF Poses Used: 2 poses from The Kiss by Simmerberlin (as you can tell I used the wrong-sized sofa but I'm not too bothered, I still like how the pose looks even in Conrad's tragic apartment); Confiding in You by StarrySimsie

[panlight]

hi!! i’m so sorry to keep sending you asks (if you get sick of it please just let me know and i’ll shut up i promise!! 💕💕)

so this is re: the cullens being in high school, as per the ask you answered a couple days ago! i also always thought it was super weird, and i’ve been thinking for a while now that a MUCH better cover story would for them all (even carlisle and esme) to be grad school housemates (i say this as someone who has now spent two years in grad school and is about to be there for another five at least lmaoooo)

here’s why i think it would work:

1. the age weirdness wouldn’t be as obvious bc people of all ages go to grad school (i started when i was 22 and had classmates in their 40s)

2. related to age, the visible/physical age also wouldn’t matter as much since some of my classmates (me included 😭😭) looked like we could still pass as high schoolers while others gave off huge “kids and a mortgage vibes” even if they were just like a year older

3. the whole looking “off” and tired thing is just like. the grad school Look™️. the shadows under the eyes and general gaunt-ish appearance honestly wouldn’t stand out that much and if somebody said something about them looking “off” or whatever, they could just be like “late night studying” and the other person would be like “lmao so true bestie”

4. if they pretended they were all renting space in the same big house (and carlisle and esme just acted a little less parental), the whole “dating each other” thing wouldn’t be that weird at all. i feel like it’s not that uncommon for couples who get along to rent different floors or sections of a house, and if they didn’t pretend to be one big weird family situation and instead just acted like they all met each other at school, i don’t think people would even bat an eye

5. people go to grad school forever. like. for so long (i vaguely knew of someone who was in the eighth or ninth year of her phd). esp if they picked something like a big state school where the “kids” could go to undergrad first, they could realistically do four years of undergrad, maybe a two or three year masters, and then a phd of indeterminate length (usually at least five). that would allow them to stay in the same place for at least 11 years

and this is not an official point, but i will note that for carlisle to still do his whole doctor thing, i think it would be perfectly reasonable for him to have already “graduated” or whatever, but continue to stay with his “friends” for financial reasons, or just bc the living situation worked for everyone

anyway, i’m so sorry this was so long, and honestly i bet someone has already said this somewhere before, but it just struck me when reading the “why tf are the cullens in high school” post that grad school would be such a great cover story for them

haha anyway thanks for putting up with my ramblings and thank you for all the lovely work you do on the blog!! 🥰🥰

I've definitely seen "just put them in college!" before (and I have made that argument myself) but I don't know if I've seen the grad school cover story specifically before!

It would allow Esme and/or Carlisle to be the 'peers' of their children rather than some sort of guardian or parental figures. They could, as you said, all be renting a house together and Esme could be studying architecture or getting a PhD in art history or whatever while the kids study who knows what. Maybe there's a medical school as well and Carlisle can go back (it still makes zero sense that Edward and Rosalie go "to keep him current' like how is that supposed to work? They come home and just recite from perfect vampire memory everything that happened in calls? Wouldn't Carlisle be keeping current by like, idk, actually being a doctor, reading journals, going to conferences, and continuing education?).

A group of friends renting a house together as a bunch of couples makes way more sense than two parents barely visibly older than their foster/adopted kids who all date each other.

And, honestly, it's probably a better use of their time to get actual advanced degrees rather than stopping at undergrad? I know because of secrecy how they use their knowledge and skills is somewhat fraught but like, publish papers under a false name or let someone else take the credit or something and you can still contribute to the world of academia.

[strangersteddierthings]

Gut Instinct: Chapter 3 - Friday

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Interlude] [Chapter Three]

As suspected, Dustin and Robin are loitering near the gym doors, awaiting their rides. "What would you two have done if I'd kept my date instead, huh?"

"Like that would stop me from getting a ride," Robin says.

"Nancy would have taken me home," Dustin says with a grin and a shrug of his shoulders.

Steve rolls his eyes and does his best to look annoyed even when all he feels is fond. "Alright, let's go. Dustin gets shotgun."

"Yes!"

"What!? Why?"

"I ruined Dustin's game tonight. This is me groveling," Steve answers as he leads them to where he parked earlier that afternoon. They're arguing behind him as they follow, but he's not listening. Now that all the excitement of the night has ended, and the rolling of his insides has settled, he remembers the weird waking nightmare thing.

Once at his car, he unlocks the passenger side door, opening it for Dustin who gives him a suspicious look before climbing in. Steve reaches down, presses the unlock button for the rest of the doors, then shuts Dustin in.

"Robbie, can you stay the night?"

"I have to! I have so many questions. Like, what happened to Heidi-"

"Brenda"

"-why you came into the gym with a herd of nerds, and why you chased Eddie down," Robin finishes as if he hadn't even corrected the name of his date. Not date? Whatever.

"Great. Climb in," Steve says and rounds the car to climb into the driver's seat. He can see Robin fumbling around with her trumpet in the back, having shoved the instrument in first but not far enough to be out of her way.

"If you guys need to have a private conversation, you can just tell me. I'll plug my ears," Dustin gripes.

"No, you won't," Steve and Robin say at the same time.

Dustin doesn't argue. He makes a 'fair enough' face and shrugs his shoulders. "True."

Once they're all buckled in, Steve heads off. He drops Dustin off first. Robin doesn't opt for jumping into the vacated seat just yet. Instead, they sit in the quiet of the radio, even though they're both wound up with the need to talk about the day, neither of them wants to start the conversation in the car. They'll both get lost in it and end up sitting out front of Robin's house for hours.

He stops at Robin's so she can change and leave the trumpet in her room. Probably also tell her parents she's going to be staying over. It doesn't take too long before he watches her shout a goodbye to her parents. He sees she's changed directly into her sleep attire; sleep pants and what looks like a shirt she stole from him.

She flings the car door open and throws a very full backpack between their seats, a strap on the bag whipping Steve in the shoulder.

"Ow! Hey!"

"It barely got you," Robin pulls the door shut gently, though, so Steve accepts her apology. After buckling in she adds, "just be lucky it was just the strap. That thing's heavy. My textbooks are still in there."

"Why?" he asks as he puts the car in drive and starts the drive home.

"I'm in two classes that don't believe in the break part of spring break," Robin groans, flopping back against the seat. "I might get some work done after you fall asleep at nine tonight, or whenever it is your old man body gives out."

"I'm not old!"

"Last time I stayed over you went to bed at eight."

"Because I was up all night the night before helping Erica with-"

"I've heard your excuses, not convinced. You are an old man now, Steve. You've got bills to pay and a lawn to mow and everything. Old people problems."

"I hate you. Why do I let you come to my house again?"

"Our house. And because you invite me. Like all the time. It's like your obsessed with me or something," she shoots him a cheeky grin before sitting up so she can reach the radio. "No wonder Dustin thinks we should date."

"Not to jump the gun but if you still need to get married to get cheaper college tuition you know I'll do it."

Robin gasps. "Steven Harrington. Are you proposing to me on this beautiful spring night? Obviously, yes. Cheaper college, and then when you disappear under mysterious circumstances after I graduate, I won't even have to worry about a mortgage or anything. Just me, the Harrington inheritance, and my mistress, lounging by the pool."

He barks a laugh that Robin quickly joins. They ride in a comfortable quiet, just the radio playing.

Steve parks in the driveway, like usual, and Robin complains about him not using the garage and he says it's just an old habit from needing to keep the garage clear for his parents. An old conversation they have every now and then as they enter the house and make their way inside.

Robin heads right for the living room and Steve jogs up the stairs to change into his own pajamas. Soon enough, they are both settled in the couch, with Back to the Future playing on the TV for background noise. A joke choice that became less of a joke with each serious conversation they have while it plays in the background. It's why Robin is now looking at him, serious but not concerned, because it was the movie he put in.

"Spill," she demands as she snuggles into his side, pointedly not looking at him, which Steve is grateful for. It's easier for him to gather his thoughts when he's not trying to decipher what every expression on her face might mean.

"I. Well, two things. There are two things to talk about. I just don't know which one first."

"Well, I wanna know how you got the entire Nerd Herd to follow you into a basketball game."

Steve chuckles, "Yeah. It's... yeah. I guess both things tie in together. Um, so, I'll just talk about it in the order everything happened and you can interrupt as needed?"

"Oh don't worry, I'll interrupt," Robin says.

So, Steve starts talking. He starts with Dustin calling him to come fill in for Hellfire, about how he'd gotten so nauseous when he barely even thought about saying no that he'd almost thrown up, and about how he'd seen something this time. He can't really recall what it was he saw now but he tries to describe it anyway. "Just, like... Umm, there was a clock. And a cassette? And the school colors, I think? But the part I remember most is Dustin sobbing. Like. Full on crying the hardest a person can. I've never even seen him sniffle with the shit we've seen. Robbie, I'm fucking terrified of whatever makes Dustin cry."

She grabs ones of his hands, sandwiching it between her two but doesn't speak, so he continues.

He recaps the day; agreeing to play, arguing with and then apologizing to Eddie, getting Hellfire to postpone and go to the game instead, helping Eddie load what they'd need to play at Steve's house into the van. He doesn't leave out a single detail. and ends with, "so, I think I might have a crush on Eddie 'The Freak' Munson."

Robin makes active listening noised the entire time he's talking, but the loudest is the gasp she lets out when he's done. "No!"

Her shout makes him jump. "No? What, why no?"

"I mean, not no, like, no not him, but no as is in why."

Steve sputters, indignant, "yeah, okay, says the girl who wanted to be the future Mrs. Tammy Thompson."

She huffs and pulls away, twisting to sit sideways on the sofa, facing him. She pulls a knee up to hug and just looks at him for a moment. "Bad crushes aside, what, um, how are we feeling, about what you saw?"

"Bad," Steve answers immediately. "I feel very bad about it but, like, in a useless way. I don't know what that was."

"It was you seeing-"

"If you say I was seeing the future, I swear on Dustin's mom-"

"Steve. What does your gut say about it?"

He frowns at her, "it doesn't work like that."

"Well, it kinda does. Think about ignoring whatever you saw. Pretending it never happened. You never plan to do anything about it."

With a huff, he does that. Mostly to humor her, because it doesn't work that way- except. Except it does work exactly that way. When he's thinking about doing something, a specific something, that's exactly when his body lets him know. And the thought of pretending he never saw any of it brings a wave of nausea through him just as bad as when he first saw it.

The problem now is that Steve has no idea what to do with this information. He tells Robin as much.

[crystallizsch]

*Note that this mini event takes place in the future, years after the character's have graduated and left Night Raven College. Lydia and Silver have two kids by the time they get married, Ryuumi (their adopted son, age 6) and Momo (their biological son, age 4) They live in Briar Valley (specifically in the house Lilia raised Silver in), with Lilia visiting/staying over often (he basically lives with them lol ♡)*

You open your mailbox one morning to find a letter, wrapped in twine and wild flowers. Your name was written neatly on the front, with small drawings in crayon surrounding it (done by a child). Inside the letter was an invitation, inviting you to a joyous occasion.

Lydia and Silver are getting married, and you're invited! ♡

The wedding and reception will be held outdoors, in the woods near their home (essentially their backyard lol ♡). The wedding will have chairs on each side of the aisle for guests to sit, decorated in soft pinks, blues, and gold (alongside the natural plant life). The reception will have tables and chairs, along with a dance floor and buffet (that will be catered).

Since this mini event takes place in the future, think of this as a fun opportunity to imagine what your OC and OC x Canon's future will be like! Maybe they're married, or have kids of their own? Or maybe they're separated, and have a reunion at the wedding?? 👀👀👀

Is your OC attending as a guest, or are they part of the wedding? Like a bridesmaid, or groomsman, or even being Lydia's hairstylist for the day! It's up to you ♡

There's no dress code/requirements either! It's moreso what you think your OC / OC x Canon would wear if they got invited to a wedding (or were apart of a wedding party!) ♡

Once people start responding to their invitations (whether it be with art, writing, etc) I'll write some scenarios to go along with it, and tag you when it's posted ♡

Thank you! ♡♡♡

AWH THIS IS SO CUTE 😭💖

of course yuusha accepts!! (also thanks for giving me an excuse for showing jamil and yuusha’s totally happy canon timeline post-NRC ehehehe)

Yuusha started working as staff at NRC after graduation (her job is still TBD but I still want her to be connected to Ramshackle dorm somehow but uh anyways-). She was also invited as a bridesmaid and a hairstylist.

Yuusha, upon receiving the invitation, immediately calls up Ace and Deuce and finds out that they have been invited as well. It seems that a lot of classmates back in NRC were also invited. It'll be a like a reunion.

Somehow the topic of Jamil got brought up. Yuusha had not talked to him after graduation. It was as if he just disappeared.

They promised they would keep in touch. But the messages from Jamil became less and less frequent until he never responded again.

And Yuusha had not thought about him. Until now.

♥️: Dude, why'd you have to bring him up?

♠️: Sorry! I was just wondering... But if I see him there I'm gonna-

♥️: Stop talking. Hey, Yuu. Call us when you need anything.

💜: ...Thanks, Ace. See ya both later.

Yuusha hung up the phone and sighed.

🐈‍⬛: So what did those bozos say.

💜: Nothing. It’s not a big deal, they just brought up Jamil.

🐈‍⬛: Yuu, I haven’t heard you say his name in years.

💜: You make it sound like he’s someone who musn’t be named.

🐈‍⬛: Because he is.

Yuusha throws her cup at Grim in frustration, knowing that the direbeast will just catch it with his magic.

💜: Do you think he’d even be there? Would he even… bother. He hasn’t reached out to me in years, why would he show now? Knowing I'll be there... Would he know I'll be there?

🐈‍⬛: Well if he shows up, I'll roast his butt like I did Kalim's all those years ago.

💜: We'll make that Plan B.

Yuusha collapsed back on her seat and stared at the invitation. She absentmindedly fiddles with the feather on her hair tie. No, his hair tie that she left him all those years ago.

After a long moment of contemplating and just letting the feelings sink in, she managed to promptly make the feeling fade away. Yuusha found herself giggling.

🐈‍⬛: What's suddenly so funny? Are you finally losing it?

💜: .....Hey, do you think we can bring [REDACTED] as a plus one?

🐈‍⬛: That was a quick switch-up. That birdbrain? Yuu, what do you even see in them.

💜: They’re charming, okay.

🐈‍⬛: Here we go again.

💜: Shut it. Just let me have this.

🐈‍⬛: If it makes my henchhuman happy then sure.

[losermothman]

hello, my old heart by me :))

read it on AO3

a college/uni charles/Edwin au fluffy drabble (QPR if ur freaky). aka me projecting onto Charles for 775 words straight.

—— —— —— ——

Charles stumbles his way out of the art building. The bag across his shoulders was heavy enough that he was genuinely debating dropping it right there on the sidewalk, simply so he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. An incessant pain throbbed sharply in the junction between his neck and his shoulder. God, he was tired.

The glass door swings shut behind him, leaving the awful white lights of his college behind.

“Stupid six hour classes and stupid college schedules,” Charles mutters to himself, forcing himself to keep walking. The faster he leaves, the faster he can get back to his apartment and sleep.

Charles turns the corner that leads to the stairway up to the downtown area, looking around the darkened space and sees–

“Edwin!” Charles shouts, fatigue forgotten as he waves the other boy down, sprinting to the lamppost Edwin was waiting under. Without much thought about it beside Edwin, Edwin, Edwin, Charles eagerly wraps his arms around Edwin in such a forceful embrace that they both almost fall down.

“Woah–Charles!” Edwin exclaims, surprised by the sudden embrace. His hands reach out to steady them, circling around Charles' waist naturally. Charles doesn’t break the hug at all, only fitting his face into the safe spot where Edwin’s neck ends. Charles sighs, content, feeling a good portion of his tension washing away from Edwin’s familiarity.

“Long day?” Edwin asks, mildly confused. Charles hums, and Edwin huffs in amusement, tightening his grip on Charles. Charles' jacket rides up a bit from the action, chilling his back from the cold fall air, but he’s not complaining one bit. “I told you that taking two six hour studio classes in a row was not a good idea.”

Charles grumbles into Edwin’s neck, not justifying him with a response. Edwin kisses the side of his head, lips pressing into the shaved sides of Charles’ head. He holds him like that for a few moments more, letting Charles linger in the touch, before letting go with a sigh. He doesn’t go far however, one hand gliding to Charles’ while the other makes its way to the side of Charles’ face, holding it gently. His thumb draws smooth circles into Charles’ cheek and it makes his chest light up with affection.

“As much as I wish we could stay like this, we will be far more comfortable at home,” Edwin says, and of course he has to be right. Charles' mind drifts to the thought of home, cuddled up in bed underneath their weighted blanket. Charles could fall asleep right here just thinking about it.

Edwin’s hand leaves his face as he bends down, and Charles misses it immediately. When Edwin returns, it's with two to-go drinks Charles hadn’t noticed before. Edwin gives one of them to Charles. “I got this on the way here since that place is right around the corner. I also ordered some takeout from–”

Edwin keeps on talking, but Charles’ focus is still on the warm drink in his hand–a french vanilla cappuccino from the restaurant by their apartment. His favorite in the winter months.

Mortifyingly enough, Charles can feel the sting of his eyes filling with tears.

“--if we hurry–Charles?” Edwin interrupts himself, voice filling with worry. One hand still occupied by his own drink, Edwin untangles their fingers so his other can once again caress the side of Charles’ face. “Are you alright? What’s the matter?”

Charles sniffles, scrubbing his eyes while laughing. Edwin only looks more concerned. “Sorry, sorry–nothing’s wrong. It’s just–” Charles laughs some more. “You met me after my class so I didn’t have to walk home alone, and you got me my favorite drink, and you ordered us food and–I don’t know. I’m so tired and you’re being so nice–”

Careful of their drinks, Edwin once again wraps his arms around Charles, this hug much gentler than the last. Charles melts into it. “Of course I’m being nice, Charles. What, you think me rude?”

Charles laughs. “No, it’s just–”

Edwin places another kiss to the side of Charles' head. “I know, dear. I understand”

Charles noses at the fabric of Edwin’s jacket, nodding. The tears don’t stay long, and with Edwin’s reassurance, thankfully neither does the embarrassment. Soon enough, the two of them are making their way down the darkened streets of downtown London. A street away from their apartment building, Charles lifts their entwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of Edwin’s. Edwin gives him a perplexed look.

“Thank you,” Charles says, grinning toothily.

Edwin smiles softly, bringing their hands closer to his mouth to do the same. “You’re very welcome.”