it's been a long time since i did any ahs oops

anonymous asked:

A scenario for Shouto and his shy(slight stutter), gentle, fragile/sickly crush? She is very new to socializing with her peers and living freely in modern society (recently escaped an abusive "home"). Has never seen a pool/swam before and is amazed/delighted but also a little afraid. She would like to get in but the cold water is painful to her. Later after being assisted, she sees the rest of the dekusquad having a splash fight and tries to splash Shouto, but apologizes immediately ( 유///∀//유)

Okay this was so cute to write and I know you said you wanted it to be just a crush, but I originally wrote it to end in a confession. I changed it at the last minute though because pining blushy Todoroki is so cute!!! also you may have noticed in the Bakugou eclipse scenario but I like to put some of my personal headcanons that I have about certain characters and the extents of their quirks into my writing. The main reason for this is I spend way too much time thinking about these things also I’m a HUGE sucker for world building.

anyways enough of my rambling I hope you like it! because I loved writing it like I seriously cannot stress enough how much I enjoy writing comfort fics because I love making people happy and I know what its like to feel like none of the scenarios fit me because of specific things I’ve gone through or disabilities that I have. I never want anyone to feel too complicated to be loved okay? ^.^

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yuriosgoldmedal  asked:

YO! So I love your writing and I would love to see a smut where one of there friends comes over (anyone) and is really flirty with Dan. So then Phil fucks Dan so he is really loud and the friend knows he is Phil's. (SOZ it's long but I really really want this thank you)


1160 words

i made the friend some random dude dan met oops i hope you like it

Phil was not happy, not even close to it. Actually, he was quite uncomfortable.

Dan had invited his new friend over, some guy he had met at Starbucks and instantly “clicked” with, and they had been talking since, but Dan had somehow forgotten to mention him to Phil. And the way Phil saw it, this guy wanted a lot more than friendship. He had been flirting with Dan the whole time, and Dan had yet to notice.

Phil had always been quite a jealous and protective person when it came to his boyfriend, he was wary of every strange look Dan got. Part of it was ever since he started dating Dan in 2009, he really didn’t know what the gorgeous man saw in him. Dan had tried convincing him, showing him, but he just didn’t understand. So he was scared that any second Dan would decide he wasn’t good enough and leave him for someone better.

Phil was jolted out of his thoughts by the guy, his name was Christian, but Phil couldn’t care less what his name was, said his name.

“So, him.” He pointed at Phil, and Phil just scowled at the ground. “Your friend.” He smiled at Dan, but it seemed weird. Phil instantly went into red alert when the guy rested his hand on Dan’s knee. “Why did he have to be here?”

Now Dan seemed to get it, his eyes went slightly blown out, and he exchanged a look with Phil who was now only slightly furious. Phil cleared his throat.

“Um, sorry but I’m actually his boyfriend,” Phil all but hissed at the guy, who just raised his eyebrows.

“Is that so?” He asked, smirking, the words directed at Dan. Dan nodded, swallowing.

Christian chuckled softly, moving his hand just slightly farther up Dan’s leg.

“You could do better than that,” he said quietly, leaning forward as Dan went rigid, clearly uncomfortable.

Right, that’s it.

Phil ground his teeth, grabbing Dan’s wrist and tugging him out of his seat.

“Excuse us for a second,” he muttered to Christian through his teeth, flashing him a fake smile.

He all but dragged Dan to his room, shoving him inside and slamming the door, pushing him against it immediately, making Dan squeak.

“What the hell was that?” he asked in a low, breathy tone that he knew made Dan weak.

“I, er…” he stuttered, eyes wide. “I’m s-sorry, I really didn’t know Phil, I…”

“Shush,” Phil muttered, connecting their mouths possessively, kissing his boyfriend deeply and tangling his fingers in Dan’s hair. His other hand brushed down his waist to his lower back, sliding under his shirt. Dan’s hands gripped at Phil’s shoulders, and he wrapped them around his neck as the kiss progressively deepened, whimpering quietly.

Dan hooked a leg around Phil’s waist as the kiss got more heated, allowing Phil to lift him up, still pressing him against the door. Phil grinded against him, and Dan gasped.

“Jesus,” he breathed, burying his face in Phil’s shoulder. “Now?”

“Yes, Dan,” Phil answered lowly, setting him down so he could tug his shirt over his head, reattaching his mouth to Dan’s collarbone. “You’re mine. Maybe if he hears me making you scream he’ll realize that.”

Dan moaned from the words and the way Phil was biting at his throat, his hips bucking to meet Phil’s involuntarily.

“P-Phil…” he gasped quietly. Phil tugged at his own shirt, tossing it aside and then playing with Dan’s zipper.

“Yes, baby?” he asked teasingly, kissing his neck hotly and pulling Dan’s jeans to the ground, palming the bulge in Dan’s boxers.

“F-Fuck,” was all Dan could reply, throwing his head back on the door.

Phil fell to his knees, smirking and beginning to mouth Dan through his boxers, pulling them down and letting them fall after a moment, licking a long stripe from Dan’s base to his tip. Dan blew air into his cheeks, obviously trying not to moan. Phil tapped his thigh.

“Scream for me, baby,” Phil muttered before taking Dan’s length to the back of his throat, bobbing slowly and swirling his tongue over the tip.

“Jesus fuck,” Dan gasped out, taking deep breaths and blowing them out. “Philll…” he whined.

“Hm?” Phil hummed, pulling off with a pop and looking up at Dan. “Did you want something, baby?”

“Oh for fucks sake, Phil,” Dan muttered under his breath, pulling Phil back up and kissing him, not minding where Phil’s mouth had just been. He shoved Phil’s jeans down, dipping his hand into Phil’s boxers and wrapping his hand around his boyfriend’s cock and tugging just slightly. Phil groaned.

“Jesus, Dan.” Phil grabbed the boy by the hair, spinning him and shoving him onto the bed, ass up. “Gonna fuck you, baby,” he muttered, squeezing Dan’s ass as the boy beneath him whimpered, and Phil pressed his crotch against him.

Phil hurried with grabbing the lube, they had been dating for seven years, they didn’t use condoms anymore, and dipping his fingers in. He quickly stretched Dan, it didn’t take long considering how often they fucked, and lubed himself up.

Phil pressed himself against his boyfriend’s entrance, grabbing a handful of Dan’s hair and tugging his head up.

“Wanna hear you scream, babe,” he whispered, pressing his body against Dan’s to get to his ear, kissing the nape of his neck. “Scream my name. Let that douche know who you belong to.”

With that Phil pushed in, taking no time with bottoming out. Dan groaned, whining as Phil gave him a moment to adjust before pulling out almost all the way and thrusting into him. He went slowly, listening to Dan’s whimpers beneath him.

“Ah-!” Dan gasped, shoving his ass back on Phil, trying to get more. “For fucks sake Phil, faster!”

Phil chuckled breathlessly, pausing before snapping his hips roughly, grinding down on Dan’s ass, making him shriek in pleasure and surprise. A long stream of moans and profanities left Dan’s lips, the bed creaking loudly from the force of Phil’s thrusts.

“FuckfuckfuckfuckfuckPHIL!” he screamed, moaning loudly and reaching back to grip Phil’s thigh. “PHIL, FUCK!”

“Scream that you’re mine,” Phil muttered breathlessly, pressing himself against Dan to whisper in his ear as he fucked him. “Show the world you’re mine, and only mine baby.”

“I’m yours! Ah-!” something that sounded like a cross between a whine and a moan ripped from his throat. “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I’M YOURS PHIL, YOURS ONLY, FUCKFUCKFUCK I’M CLOSE!”

He sounded like he was on the verge of tears, and Phil groaned, thrusting quicker and rougher than before.

“Who do you- belong to, Dan?”


With a loud shriek of his name Dan came on his stomach, whimpering while Phil finished, before pulling out and falling next to him on the bed, intertwining their fingers.

“I love you,” Dan gasped, running his fingers through his damp hair. Phil grinned.

“I love you too.” he smirked. “Do you think he got the message?”

pastelkingalex  asked:

Hey hey hey!! Could I get KuroKen with Kuro helping Kenma through a panic attack or a depressive episode??

Unknown Number

Kenma could feel himself shaking long before he managed to find an empty stall. But the real panic only started to set in in full force as he slumped against the wall, sliding into a sitting position and wrapping his arms around his knees– shuddering, shallow breaths and the blurred lines of the stall door, the wall, the toilet next to him, the crush of anxiety on his chest forcing the air out of his lungs, disconnecting him from his surroundings. It seemed as though he was looking at everything through the wrong end of a smudged telescope, but even more sickening was the cold familiarity of the feeling.

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coffee's for closers

summary: just when you think you’ve learned the faces of all your regulars, life deals you a little surprise.

genre: fluff

pairing: jay park x reader

word count: 1.2k

a/n: just a lil repost of an older fluff for my fave aomg boy! hope you enjoy!

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Wrong Number


Author Ladyoftheteaandblood

Fluffy oneshot Tom and OC

I can’t tell you how annoying it is to have to change your bloody mobile phone number. All the texting people with 

“Hi it’s Megan, this is my new number” and the texts back

 “Who?” All the explaining and shit, as to the why, you did it.
Anyway it’s done now and the reason I had to do it, may just have fallen off a cliff!
What I wasn’t prepared for was weird texts from unknown person, which started the day after I got it.
“Hi so bloody bored can I come home now?”
I ignored the first one and let it pass; some poor sod texting away had hit a wrong number. Two hours later the next one came in,
“Shit, if I’m asked one more time how a guy from England can play a guy from  America, I will have to kill someone, somebody please ask me something new”
Again I ignored it, strange person would work it out when they had no reply. Five hours later and late at night
“Hey you ignoring me, have I upset you?”
This time I felt I should answer it seemed mean not to,
“Hi you are texting the wrong number, I have no idea who you are” send
“OK what did I do this time” came the reply

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lizardcool17  asked:

Thank you for writing my prompt your awesome and because I couldn't help myself here is another one. Prompt: Sara forces Mickey to go to a strip club with her were he meets one of the dancers(Emil)❤️

Aww, thank you for your kind words (you’re always so sweet and nice, how could I not fill your prompts? Plus, they’re so good. Speaking of which) This prompt is fantastic and I wanted to write it the moment it appeared in my ask box.

I’m keeping this super short for now, but just know that I could write a novel about stripper!Emil and flustered, first time at a strip club!Mickey.

Michele was not happy. This was not what he had in mind when he’d offered to take Sara out tonight.

As it turned out, she and Mila visited these places often. He didn’t understand the draw. Did happily dating couples typically go and watch other people dance around half naked? Well, apparently his sister and her girlfriend did.

He didn’t realize the type of establishment to which his sister was happily dragging him until they made it to the front entrance.

“A strip club?!” He shouted, eyes going impossibly wide. Several of the people outside turned toward him, their conversations ending abruptly.

“Yes, ‘a strip club’,” Sara replied in a harsh whisper. “I told you three times in the cab.” She rolled her eyes and wrapped a hand around his wrist. “Now, hurry and get inside. You’re causing a scene.”

“I will do no such thing!” Michele pulled his arm free and gave his best stern look.

“But Mickey.” She stuck her lower lip out. “You promised.”

“I promised I would take you out somewhere nice, not to this, this-” Michele gesticulated wildly, “this den of sin!”

“Oh, Mickey.” She shook her head. “Mila and I come here all the time.” She looped her arms around one of his and led him back toward the door. “And, since she’s out of town and you promised to cheer me up…”

Michele didn’t want to go inside. But he had promised her. She’d looked so sad when she ended her video chat with Mila and he couldn’t stand seeing his baby sister cry.

But going into a strip club, of all places? He’d never set foot in one! What was he supposed to do? Did everyone dance or just the strippers? Was he supposed to tip them? What if one touched him?

“Stop thinking so loud.” Sara chuckled. “You’ll distract the dancers.” Then she dragged him the rest of the way inside.

Michele was surprised at how nice the place looked. It wasn’t like one of the seedy holes in movies, hives where gangsters traded drugs and sex for money. No. It looked like a regular bar one might find in the lobby of a fancy hotel.

Well, except for the stage in the center.

“You sit here.” Sara directed him to a chair next the foot of the stage and pushed down on his shoulders until he was seated. “I’ll go get us something to drink.” She started to walk off and then stopped, turning back toward him. “Stay.”

He frowned as she laughed and made her way to the bar.

“I’m not a dog.” His frown deepened. Then, without any warning, the lights dimmed. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the low light. “What’s happening now?”

“Next up on the main stage,” a voice crackled over a loud speaker. “You know him. You love him.”

“Ugh…” Michele groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s give a warm welcome to our very own, Emil!”

Now, Michele would have been content - or at least mildly appeased - to sit there and stare at the tabletop until his sister returned. He was already thinking of reasons they should leave.

But then Emil stepped out onto the stage. The cool blue of the spotlight made his pale skin look almost ethereal. He was wearing a tight-fitting top, its sequins catching the light, and shorts that revealed smooth yet powerful-looking legs.

He waved to the audience, flashing a perfect smile. Michele normally didn’t care for facial hair, but this man wore his well. In fact, there was something about Emil’s unique blend of sparkling elegance and rugged masculinity that kept Michele from looking away.

“Oh, Emil’s up.” Sara’s voice startled him. He jumped and whipped his head to face her. 


“Emil,” she repeated simply, shrugging her shoulders. “He’s the most popular one here, I’d say.” She offered him one of the drinks, setting the other down on the table in front of her.

“You know him?” Michele asked, trying to seem less interested than he was, though he’d missed his straw three times.

“Why?” Sara gave him a knowing smile. It was almost devious. “You want a private dance?”

Ah, I didn’t end up writing much of Emil at all! Let alone, actually dancing, haha. Oops. Oh well, maybe I’ll continue this and make it so it will require being posted on my NSFW blog, haha.

Thanks again for the prompt! ♥


Summary: Cold. Cold so intense it bordered on flaking the sink off her body. Biting cold seeped under her skin and froze her organs one by one.
The night is cold and Sakura feels as though she is freezing from the inside out. And Sasuke is the only one who can ensure her continued existence. SasuSaku.


Oh my Gaara, it’s been so long since I’ve posted something. Take this is a small apology from me to those (anyone?) that pouted when they noticed I was slacking.
This was my contribution for the April Fluff Friday but I just so completely forgot about it that when I sat down to write and saw this in my prompts folder I was like ‘oops’. Better late than never, right?

Fluff Friday prompt: Sleep

Backstory: Sasuke’s back in town, he’s under house arrest at Sakura’s place coz Kakashi’s always out on missions and Naruto’s too irresponsible to understand that no, Sasuke, the recently-ex-missing-nin, is not allowed to be left to his own devices when you get too sick of his monosyllables and Hns, Naruto. So yeah, dear pinkette is stuck with his royal jerkness. (his useful for something in this fic, at least. lol)


Cold. Cold so intense it bordered on flaking the sink off her body. Biting cold seeped under her skin and froze her organs one by one.

That’s what Sakura felt. And it was so awful, so awful.
She curled her body into a pathetic ball of numb limbs and vanished heat. The windows were closed, the curtains drawn, the bed laid with double sheets and two, thick blankets covered her from aching head to frozen toe. And still, she shivered like a popsicle being beaten by harsh winds.

Her chakra was sluggish after eighteen hours of standing on her feet and four major surgeries. Her mind was clouded and she could think of nothing more. Only heat, heat, heat.

And she sensed it, two rooms away and dulled by the walls and oppressive air that somehow found its way through cracks in places she would never find.

So Sakura collected what power of her limbs she had left and dragged herself out of her warmth-less cocoon. Her feet never felt the cold floor as she trudged on to what she hoped would secure her continued existence.


Sasuke woke when a presence entered his room. He started when the mattress of his bed dipped and the presence slipped under his covers and close to his body.

He knew it was Sakura, he had felt her coming toward his room as soon as she left her bed, but what in Hokage’s name was she doing spooning against his side?


“Ah,” a sigh came from where here head was buried in his shirt. He felt her cold breath through the material. His skin raised and his heart beat faster.

“What are you doing?” he tried to sound mild but the question came out harsher than he intended.

Sakura’s head lifted and he stilled at her pale, pale face and blue lips. Shit.

Only then did he register that her whole body was shivering and her skin was as cold as ice. Shit.

Her lips trembled as her eyes pleaded with him. For what, he was not certain.

Her voice was barely a whisper and he had to strain his keen ears to hear her.

“I’m so cold, Sasuke, and I don’t have any chakra to get warm. Just let me stay here for tonight and we can pretend this never happened in the morning. I’m sorry to do this but I feel like I’ll freeze to death if I don’t. Please.” She exhaled shakily at the end and burrowed in his shirt as soon as the words had left her cold lips.

Sasuke shivered as more of the cold from her skin seeped through his shirt to raise the hair on his body.

Sasuke had done many terrible things but he couldn’t turn her away and let her freeze to death like she, and now he, feared. If morning came and she truly was dead, he knew the council wouldn’t think twice about chopping his head off and Naruto wouldn’t do a thing to stop them. And if Naruto couldn’t forgive him then there really was nothing he could do to redeem himself.
He nodded shortly. That was all the sign Sakura needed. She slowly inched closer to him and slipped her hands under his shirt and nudged her leg between his. Sasuke kept himself from flinching away from the biting winter she had turned into.

She stole his warmth and slowly her body was not so cold anymore.

He stayed still for an extended time and Sakura had long since fallen blissfully asleep with only a sigh to signify her descend into dreamland. He is frozen, not in the way Sakura was when she came to him, but because her now warm body is pleasantly pressed against him.

Like this, he can feel every rise and drop of her ample chest and she has placed his hand over her hip so if he smoothed his hand down a little more he could feel where her dips were.

Her head stayed firmly on his chest, her breath brushed his exposed collarbones and the scent of her hair tickled his nose with every inhale.

The cover came up to their hips and he thought about pulling them up higher to ensure Sakura didn’t freeze even while siphoning away his body heat, but that would mean moving and jostling their very pleasing position. So he didn’t.

With the assurance that she was too deep in sleep to be aware, he smoothed his hand down her hip and felt her dips. Closing his eyes, he rested his chin on her sweet smelling head and joined her in sleep.


The morning found him alone and confusingly disappointed.

Smut fest

Hey so yeah it’s been a while since I’ve written anything oops :P but I heard it was a KC smut fest day, hope I’m not too late. So here’s a little Klaroline crossed with game of thrones. It isn’t beta’d so sorry for any mistakes. Hope you guys like it, also there’s a tiny mention of abuse in this incase somebody doesn’t like reading that.

Oh how Caroline loved and loathed being a Lannister and the Queen of the Westeros, she loved the power she could wield, men would do anything she commanded of them if she so wanted, even kill her drunk of a husband if she only willed it so.

Ah yes her all mighty husband Damon Baratheon, the Warrior King who crushed a three hundred year old dynasty. He was hardly the same warrior he was 16 years ago when she had married him after he took the Iron Throne, he had gotten fat and became a whoring drunk spreading his bastards over the realm. He would often hit his wife and Queen across the face if she ever stood up to him, which she did often.

One day soon Damon would no longer be alive and her first born son would be king. Thomas, her sweet boy would be a gentle, kind and wise king. For he was not the son of Damon, he was more like her and his real father.

All three of her children were sired from her lover, Niklaus Storm, the bastard half brother to the King. She wished it were him that was king, Klaus was kind and gentle with her and was always happy to do what ever she wished of him. A sudden knock to her chamber doors startled Caroline from her thoughts.

“Enter.” Caroline shouted from her seat where she drank her wine. A small smile escaped her lips when she saw Klaus enter, donned in his golden armour of the Kingsguard looking as handsome as the day she first met him.

“You asked for me your grace, how may I be of service?” Klaus asked as he locked the door to her chambers, knowing full well why he was here.

“Hmm, well there is one thing you can help me with good ser.” Caroline said seductively as she walked over to him, looking regal in her crimson red dress. “It seems I cannot undo the laces to my dress.”

“Is that so?” Klaus asked sarcastically as Caroline turned her back to him, allowing him to slowly undo the laces to her dress. “And what happened to your handmaidens?”

“They were annoying me so I dismissed them for the day.” Caroline told him as her dress fell to the floor and pooled at her feet leaving her stark naked in front of him.

“Beautiful.” Was all Klaus said before his lips crashed on hers.

Caroline moaned into the kiss, deepening it, fighting Klaus’s tongue with her own for dominance, quickly Caroline helped Klaus remove his armour before resuming their kissing, slowly making their way to her bed.

As soon as Caroline reached her bed Klaus laid her on her back and spread her legs. Not wanting to waste anytime he began tracing his tongue up and down her sweet centre. Then his thumb made its way to the spot Caroline wanted it most and he began gentle rubbing it.

Caroline let out a moan that would make the whores of Kingslanding proud, it didn’t take long before Caroline could feel herself ready cum.

“Yes keep going, don’t stop.” Caroline barely managed to let out, as she began to cum, slightly crushing Klaus’s head with her legs.

“You’re delicious my queen.” Klaus said as his blue eyes starred into her green ones before moving to kiss her again. She loved it when he kissed her after pleasing her with his tongue, she loved tasting herself on his tongue.

“I demand that you fuck me Klaus.” Caroline said with a tone of authority.

“As you wish my queen.” Klaus replied as he lined his hard cock up with her wet entrance.

Both of them let out a loud moan as Klaus pushed himself inside, she was warm and tight and perfect to him. With the little control he had left he began a slow and gentle pace, his cock being massaged by her tight pussy.

“Fuck me Klaus, fuck your dirty queen.” Caroline cried out as Klaus thrusted into her.

“My, my, what would the king say about his wife being such a wanton whore?” Klaus said with a small smirk as his hand digged into Caroline’s hips that would no doubt leave a mark. Caroline loved it when Klaus spoke to her like this, he was the only one game brave enough to do it.

“Fuck the king!” Caroline moaned out as she felt her orgasm begin to build.

“That’s it Caroline, cum for me, you’re mine, not Damon’s.” Klaus said possessively as he moved to kiss her again.

For the second time tonight Caroline felt herself begin to cum. “Cum with me Klaus, make me carry another one of your bastards.” Caroline said just as she began to cum around his cock.

“I love you Caroline.” Klaus barley managed to say as he spilt his seed inside of her.

“I love you too Klaus.” Caroline said as she rode out her own orgasm.

A little while after their love making, the two lovers lay in the bed wrapped up in each other with Klaus gently stroking her hair.

Maybe it was time for Damon to die, she knew if she asked Klaus to kill him he would, after all Damon was a drunk and falling out of one of the towers wouldn’t surprise anyone.

I Hate Converse

Anonymous Said:  Can I request dom/daddy Yoongi or Namjoon (or both!!!) smut? I love this blog so much!!

A/N:  I really hope you like this one :)  it was floating around in my brain for a while about a smut where the reader wears converse and when I got your request I thought how perfect it would be to combine the two.  Plus the last smut I did, Talk Dirty to Me, was a Namjoon with slight dom moments so I went with Yoongi!  Enjoy!!!!

And let’s be honest….I’m sure this is part of his anger with Converse shoes anyway…..

Genre:  Smut, smut, smut, so much smut I’m going to hell for this one!

Pairing:  Yoongi x Reader

Summary:  She wore converse even knowing that it would drive Yoongi mad.  “Damnit, Y/N, you know how I feel about those shoes.”  Oops…

Today had been one of those days that she spent outside with her best friend for over ten years – Kim Namjoon.  She’d known Namjoon since before he’d debuted with his idol group – BTS which ironically was how she ended up meeting her long term boyfriend, Min Yoongi.  Namjoon had invited her out for the day to go shopping before their comeback schedule was too tight and they couldn’t fit in any quality time together.  The only downside was that they’d been spotted by a few fans that’d asked for pictures, but didn’t make it into a scene.  They did, however, post the pictures in the boys’ Fan Café where Yoongi had seen something that he wasn’t exactly fond of.

Storming into their shared apartment they’d gotten a few months back after receiving permission from Bang PD and his managers, Yoongi threw down his things, checking the entrance for her shoes.  Frowning slightly to himself, Yoongi looked around the living area looking for any sign of her.

That’s odd, he thought.  Checking his phone again he noticed that he’d missed a message from her saying she was running out for some groceries and would be back later to make dinner.

Smiling to himself, Yoongi stared shedding his outerwear, his thoughts turning to what he had planned for her when she got home.  She’d caused a bit of a problem for him back at the studio when those photos had popped up on the Fan Café and he was going to make sure that she took care of it.

Sighing to herself, she opened the apartment door, frowning down at her shoes before shrugging and thinking that Yoongi would just have to deal with her wearing the shoes into the kitchen before removing them.  It was one of the only downsides of wearing her converse out, but she didn’t get to wear them very often so when she went out with Namjoon today she saw the opportunity to wear one of her favorite pairs of old shoes and seized it.

Glancing around the living room, she didn’t see Yoongi anywhere, assuming that he was either taking a nap in the bedroom or he was in his studio room down the hall.  Unpacking the groceries she placed them in their proper homes throughout the kitchen before deciding to make her way down the hall to see where Yoongi would have gone when he’d arrived home.

She checked the bedroom first, not finding him lying comfortably on the bed, so she went to the end of the hall where his studio room was.  The door was slightly ajar and pushing it open slightly she walked into the room seeing Yoongi slouched back on the leather sofa he’d put in there for extra seating when the boys would come over.

“Y/N-ah,” Yoongi’s voice called softly, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

“Yes, oppa,” She responded coming to a stop just inside the doorway, curious to know what he was going to say.

“You’re wearing them.”

It was a simple statement, but her heartbeat sped up at hearing his words, yes, yes she was wearing them.  Looking down at her black converse, she shuffled her feet suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the small studio that was usually so welcoming.  Yoongi shifted, his eyes opening slightly to see her still standing there in the doorway, looking down at her shoes.  Groaning quietly, Yoongi watched her stiffen under his gaze, his eyes traveling up her body, taking in her legs clothed in cut off jean shorts, a white crop top and one of his favorite snapbacks.  The only thing wrong with that outfit was those damn shoes.

She watched with bated breath as Yoongi raked his eyes over her form, feeling a burning begin to build in the pit of her stomach as his eyes continued to travel from her feet to her face.  When he reached her eyes, they stayed locked, staring at one another as she continued to shift uncomfortably under his blazing gaze.

“Sit on the desk.” Yoongi’s words were full of command; his usually soft voice was now filled with authority.

Glancing over at the two desks in the room, she made her way over to his usual desk, not the one that contained his precious computer.  That one was usually too cluttered with crumpled pieces of paper and random CDs lying around.  It was mutually agreed that she didn’t touch anything on that desk unless asked to, because like Yoongi, Y/N was very specific in her personal space, if you moved it, she couldn’t find it.  If she couldn’t find it, she wasn’t happy, and Yoongi not being happy was ten times worse than when she was angry, but if Yoongi was being honest with himself, she was one of the few people he was genuinely scared of.

No, she made her way over to his desk that was so unlike him, the one that was clean and tidy, everything in its place and orderly.  This was the side of Yoongi that most people saw, the neat and clean side, the Yoongi that he presented to the world, the other desk was the desk that was reserved for those that were close to him and knew him best.  Normally only the other members saw him disorderly, but she was lucky to be given the opportunity to see him in a disorderly light something that she cherished and didn’t take for granted.

Running her fingers lightly over the cherry wood, she turned with her back now facing the desk, her eyes focused on Yoongi’s stern gaze as his eyes followed her every movement as she paused, biting her lip.  Yoongi’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her debating how she was going to sit on the desk.  Letting his eyes filter down her figure once more, Yoongi smirked seeing her predicament. He liked his desks tall and it was a bit of a stretch for her to lift herself up onto his desk in her current standing position.

Resting his arms on the back of the sofa, Yoongi lifted one of his brows, determined to make her work for it.  “Well?”

Her cheeks flushed, feeling slightly embarrassed at having to ask for help, but seeing the cocky look in Yoongi’s eyes, she knew that he wasn’t going to help her.  This was part of her punishment for wearing the shoes; she was beginning to regret ever choosing to wear those shoes in the first place.  Why did she have to like converse when her boyfriend absolutely loathed them?

Planting both hands on the cool wood she lifted herself carefully, allowing her butt to slide on the wood as she worked herself into a comfortable sitting position, her legs dangling down, swinging slightly with her movement.  She waited with bated breath for Yoongi to give her his next instruction, when he thought she’d been a bad girl, this was his usual approach to handling his anger.

It was one of their favorite role playing ideas, it kept their bedroom life interesting and their normal life a bit less stressful.  Instead of taking out their anger verbally this was how they worked out their problems, where they both agreed to the terms and there was no way that feelings could unintentionally be hurt.  They both had their tempers and they learned early on in their relationship that if they allowed themselves to be angry at one another openly, they were too stubborn to apologize.  When they discovered that the bedroom was a great place to help air out their grievances that was when things started to change.  Everyone told them they wouldn’t make it because they were too much alike, but they had been together for three years now and things were looking brighter than ever.  That is, until the converse incident that happened today.

Yoongi’s eyes traveled up her legs, raking over her torso before finally resting on her eyes, cocking his head to the side as he let his eyes drift once more.  She sat, feeling his eyes raking over every inch of her body as he continued with his laid back position, not moving as he observed her in the position he’d asked her to sit in.  Yoongi appreciated the fact that she could be so submissive at times, but that she was never afraid to state what she wanted or expected out of a situation.

“Y/N-ah,” Yoongi called out, his eyes still taking in every inch of her.  She tensed, her stomach clenching when she heard her name, she’d been too busy watching him watch her that she didn’t even register that he was talking to her at first.

“Yes, oppa?”

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed and she quickly realized her mistake, hurrying to correct herself before he would add to her punishment.

“Yes, daddy?”  Her voice was smaller this time, her cheeks slightly flushed as she bit her lip hoping she didn’t get it wrong this time.

Yoongi’s expression lightened up, his face relaxed as he pulled himself up slowly, straightening out his clothes as he stared walking over to her carefully.  His stance was relaxed, his pace slow, and calculated, but his eyes remained watchful and full of promise.  She shivered under his gaze her eyes never leaving his, watching as he came to a stop a hairsbreadth away from her, his thighs almost touching her knees.

She looked up at him through her lashes, afraid to meet his eye directly, not knowing what was going to happen if she did.  She was nervous – rightly so – she’d done wrong by wearing the shoes, the ones that he loathed.  The last time she wore them, she couldn’t walk for three days straight and they didn’t leave the apartment, Yoongi calling in sick because he had to stay home and take care of her.  He let Namjoon cover for him those three days and she knew her panties were already soaked just remembering that time.

Yoongi promised her that time that if she ever wore those shoes again her punishment would be doubled and her inability to walk would be doubled.  She pressed her knees together tightly, trying to alleviate some of the tension between her thighs; Yoongi’s eyes darted down as he watched her rubbing her legs together, licking his lips at the sight.  He reached out his hand, his ling slim fingers coming into contact with the exposed skin just above her knee.  Carefully, Yoongi wrapped his hand around her thigh, fingers spread as far as he physically could, the slight pressure making her inhale a surprised breath.

Moving his fingers to cup the back of her knee, Yoongi used his leverage to spread her leg, fitting himself into the newly created space between your thighs.  He kept his hand on the back of her knee, his fingers tracing small circles in the soft skin behind her knee his head was dipped down like he was going to kiss her, but his eyes were trained on hers.  He made no move to kiss her; instead he maintained eye contact as his fingers continued smoothing over her skin.

“You know what you’ve done, don’t you?”

She nodded her head slowly, pushing her hair back from her face, trying to distract herself from the electric shock from Yoongi’s touch on her leg.  She was nervous, not really sure what was going to happen or how far he was going to take this.  When Yoongi got mad, he sometimes stayed that way and other times he would get over it quickly.

“If you knew what would happen, baby girl then why did you do it?”  Yoongi’s lips ghosted along the corner of her mouth, barely brushing against them.  “Why would you risk angering me?”  His lips were now following the length of her cheekbone, resting just below the corner of her eye.  Her eyelashes fluttered shut at the slight pressure from his lips and the warmth from his breath.  “Did you want daddy to punish you?”  She moaned when he said those words, his fingers pressing harder into the skin behind her knee, stilling their previous circling motion.

“Is that a yes, baby girl?” Yoongi’s fingers started sliding further up her thigh, the skin slightly trembling beneath his touch.  “Answer me.”  His voice which was normally low and gruff was suddenly deeper, his lisp more prominent with his words.

“N-no, I didn’t want you to be angry.”  Her breath hitched, her words stuttered slightly as his slim fingers played with the frayed edge of her jean shorts.  His fingers continued to trace around the frayed edge to her shorts.

“Then why did you wear them?”  Yoongi’s voice contained a sharp edge and she knew that he was angry, trying to figure out why she would wear them.  He pulled back slightly, her eyes fluttering open to look at him with wide doe like eyes. His brow furrowed, his dark brows knit together as gauged the sincerity of her words.

“I-I,” She looked down, biting her bottom lip, Yoongi’s finger slipped between her jeans and underwear, finding the soaked fabric, pressing gently.  She moaned, her head rolling back, her hips thrusting forward trying to create more friction.

“Go on,” Yoongi prompted, pulling his finger back to trace around her thigh again.

She moaned in frustration, “I-I wore them because I like them.  It’s been so long, I-I didn’t think-”

“Didn’t think I would remember?  Or did you just forget?”  Yoongi cut her off, hooking his finger in the crotch of her jeans and tugging her closer to the edge of the desk.

Her fingers gripped hard on the corner of the desk, her left hand curled into the fabric of his tee shirt, tugging slightly.  “Yoongi, please.”

She wasn’t sure what she was asking for, she didn’t even care that she broke the roleplay; all she wanted was for him to give her what they both wanted.  To hell with the consequences, she just wanted him to touch her. She didn’t care so long as his fingers were playing her like the keys of his piano, soft and sure.  He always played with steady hands and when he used her like he used his piano it always left her breathless and made her wonder how he wasn’t a phenomenal guitarist or pianist in a band.

“Please what, baby girl?”

“Ooh, god, just touch me already.”  Yoongi was driving her crazy, his fingers going back and forth between touching the edge of her jeans to teasing just over her clothed core.  She’d been soaked for the last few minutes, ever since he’d looked at her like he was the predator and she was his prey.  There was something about the way Yoongi could stare holes through her, the way his eyes would stare into her soul without really looking too deeply.  The barest of touches from his long fingers could send her over the edge in a matter of seconds.  She wasn’t even really aware of what was going on anymore, she didn’t care what punishment he had in store for her so long as she was allowed to come at the end of it, even if it was just once.

Yoongi smirked, his fingers now dancing over her zipper and button, without warning he pulled down the zipper and undid the button, bringing both of his hands to either side of her waist to pull down the shorts.

“Lift yourself, baby girl.” She moved her hands to brace on the wood, lifting her hips simultaneously with Yoongi’s movement to rid herself of the unnecessary garment.  Yoongi’s deft fingers pulled down her underwear along with the jean shorts, his eyes glued to her glistening folds that had soaked through her panties.

Carefully, he reached out his index finger, running it along the seam, collecting the fluids that gathered there.  She moaned above him, tossing her head back, her arms trembling from the sensation of his cool touch as she held herself poised in the same position from a moment ago when he’d removed her shorts and panties, leaving her shoes untouched. Lowering herself carefully back down to sit on the desk, she let out a soft hiss as the cool, polished wood touched her butt and the backs of her thighs.

Yoongi’s smirk didn’t disappear as he watched her writhe, feeling the sensation of coolness on her exposed nether region as well as the cool touch from his fingers.  He knew his hands were cold, they usually were cool to the touch, where he was cold, and she was warm.  She always accepted his touch gratefully to warm his hands, the chill not bothering her, but causing ripples over her skin as he warmed his hands. Yoongi ran his fingers up and down her slit, collecting the moisture that gathered there before lifting his fingers up towards her mouth, waiting for her to accept them.

Her eyes opened upon feeling his fingers leave her, coming to rest on his raised hand as he offered up her own juices on his outstretched fingers.  Shifting her lust filled gaze up to his own dark chocolate eyes, she licked her lips before slowly opening her mouth to accept his offering.  Yoongi’s already dark eyes glazed over further as he pushed his wet fingers past her lips, watching as she clamped around his digits hard enough to hollow out her cheeks before she pulled back, swirling her tongue around his fingers at the same time.  Her eyes never left his as she let his fingers go with a slight ‘pop’, licking her lips of any lingering traces of come that she had missed.

Yoongi swallowed the lump in his throat, cursing silently that he was allowing her to worm her way out of her own punishment.  She always knew what buttons to press that would make him lose his focus, but he wasn’t going to give in that quickly, no.  She was going to receive her punishment and she was going to suffer at his hands for wearing those damn shoes.

Using both of his hands, Yoongi pushed her thighs open wider, letting the cool air of the room hit her now exposed clit.  Her moan of pleasure turned into a soft whimper as Yoongi smoothed his fingers over her aching clit, pushing lightly before inserting his index finger into her tight sheath.  Her moans increased as her hips tried to push against him, sliding slightly on the desk as she tried to gain more friction from his touch.  Using his thumb, Yoongi applied more pressure to her clit as his finger thrust deep inside of her, feeling her walls flutter around him, clamping down whenever he pulled back.

Her eyes were closed again, as she pushed her hips harder against his fingers, feeling her orgasm approaching, she groans and moans of pleasure were low, her brows knit together as she focused on feeling his fingers against her most sensitive parts. His long finger pushed in and out at an excruciatingly slow pace, but that was okay, the buildup was what she enjoyed the most and Yoongi knew that.

“Namjoon, it’s me.”

Yoongi’s words had her eyes snapping open, her cheeks flushed from the stimulation that Yoongi was applying to her clit as she stared at him in disbelief.  Yoongi’s attention was on his cellphone, the screen fading to black from the call screen that had been displayed on it, letting her know that he wasn’t joking, but actually talking to Namjoon of all people.  She opened her mouth to protest, but Yoongi chose that moment to curl his finger up against her g-spot, her moan was barely muffled by the finger she managed to bite down on, her eyes watering slightly.

“Y/N’s sick, can you cover for me for a few days?”

Days, she thought, her teeth clamping down harder on her finger as she watched Yoongi’s brows knit together.  Her cheeks flushed as she remembered his earlier words and how he’d promised that she wouldn’t be able to walk for double the amount of time than the last time.  Fuck, that’s practically a whole week.

“I don’t know exactly, but she’s running a high fever.”  Yoongi nodded his head, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling as he listened to Namjoon. He was probably berating him, she thought, good riddance.  “I’m taking her to the doctor on Monday.”

Yoongi sighed, slightly irritated, his eyes looking down at her twisting under his ministrations, trying to hold back her cries of pleasure.  He smirked, a devilish expression passing over his face as he pulled his fingers back, the look on his face causing her eyes to widen in fear. Roughly he shoved two fingers back inside of her, biting his own lip to control his groan as he felt her already tight walls clamp down even harder on his digits.  Letting go of her finger, she threw her head back, letting out a deep moan, her eyes widening as she remember Namjoon on the other end of the line.

“What noise?”  Yoongi paused, “Oh that, you know her, she doesn’t handle pain well.”  Yoongi’s fingers stroked over her g-spot several times as he pushed in and out of her catching the spot over and over.  She tried to hold back any further moans, trying in vain to twist her body away from Yoongi’s hand, but he was having none of that.  Using his lower body he managed to place both of his legs on either side of hers, shoving them closed with brute strength, trapping his hand between her thighs.

She was so close, it wouldn’t take much more before she was coming hard, but she tried to hold back. Yoongi seemed intent on making her come with Namjoon on the phone though as he wasn’t hanging up and they hadn’t even said good-bye yet.  Stroking over her spot in the come hither motion had her seeing stars, her eyes closed as she tried to buck against him to gain more friction.  She cried out, biting down on her bottom lip as her walls clenched around Yoongi’s fingers trying to prevent him from withdrawing.

Yoongi’s eyes were trained on her face barely catching Namjoon’s next words as he watched her fight her orgasm even while it was happening.  He could feel her walls pulsing around his digits as his eyes glazed over in lust as he helped bring her down from her orgasm.

“Yeah, I’ll keep you posted.”  Yoongi didn’t even care if Namjoon had asked him something else, he didn’t care if he’d heard her, he just wanted to make her do it again.  Yoongi was a sucker for making her come over and over again and he was going to keep his promise to her, she wasn’t going to be walking or leaving the apartment any time soon.

“Fuck, Y/N you couldn’t keep quiet for five minutes?”  Yoongi’s words were teasing, but the combination of his words and her orgasm had her cheeks flushed a deep crimson.  She tried to pull back from the stimulation that Yoongi was still giving her. His thighs held hers in a vice grip, refusing to let go as continued to thrust his fingers in and out at a languid pace.

“Tomorrow, we’ll call your boss.”  His voice was nearly hoarse when he said those words, finally removing his fingers from her dripping center only to stick them inside his own mouth, moaning in ecstasy at her flavor on his tongue.

Her eyes snapped open, taking in his euphoric expression as he slowly removed his fingers from his mouth, his eyes opening slowly to meet with her own.  “M-my boss?”  Her words were uttered quietly, stuttered with her nervousness.

Yoongi’s dark eyes remained steady on her own, a smirk adorning his lips, his hands roaming up the expanse of her exposed thighs before maneuvering under her shirt.  “You’re sick, Y/N.  You won’t be into work for some time, might even just take some vacation time.  You have about ten days saved up don’t you?”

As he talked, Yoongi’s nimble fingers maneuvered around her back, unclasping her bra and gently sliding it off without removing the loose crop top.  After tossing the garment blindly over his shoulder, Yoongi’s hands were once more under her top, his palms cupping and caressing her breasts. Moans of delight left her slightly parted lips as she pushed her sensitive breasts further into Yoongi’s waiting hands.  With a sharp pinch to each nipple, Yoongi pulled his hands back, a groan of protest finding its way through her slightly parted lips.

Her eyes opened to see what had caused Yoongi’s hands to disappear only to find him stripping his shirt over his head before moving on to his pants.  Without thinking she reached out for his zipper only to have her hands grasped firmly in one of his, pulling her off the desk.  She wobbled, almost stumbling further into Yoongi’s bare chest, but he used his free hand to stable her hip, squeezing gently.

“Be a good girl and bend over,” His fingers ghosted over the outside of her hip pushing slightly to encourage her to turn around.

Face flushed, she obeyed Yoongi, bracing her elbows on the desk her feet spaced a few feet apart. She waited patiently for the sound of his zipper but it never came.  Instead his hands found their way to her rear, his long fingers splayed over the exposed skin causing her breath to hitch at his cool touch.

“You’re always such a good girl listening to daddy like you do.”  Yoongi’s voice was right next to her ear as his fingers worked circles into her lower back one of his hands undoing his pants before letting them drop along with his boxers down to the floor in a heap.

She moaned at his touch and his words, her head falling forward to the cool desk surface.  Her nipples were hard, straining against the fabric of her top, her pussy was still sensitive from the previous orgasm and knowing Yoongi he wasn’t going to be gentle anytime soon.  Especially not if he was planning on keeping the both of them out of work for who knew how long at this rate.

His member was pressed up against her ass cheeks causing a slight hiss to come from between his clenched teeth.  Yoongi’s eyes were shut as he felt his cock twitch against her, he was oversensitive himself and though his original intent was to punish her for wearing her shoes, he had a better form of punishment.  For now though, he was more worried about giving them both what they wanted.

“You’re going to come around daddy’s pretty cock, right baby girl,” His words were soft, but the depth of meaning behind them sent a shiver down her spine.

“Yes, daddy,” Her breath hitched in the back of her throat when she felt the head of his cock poking against her soaked entrance.

With one swift thrust, Yoongi’s cock was buried deep inside of her, her walls clenched tightly around him at the sudden intrusion.  Yoongi cursed under his breath his front pressed up against her back, one of his hands was wrapped around hers on the table, their fingers intertwined.  His other hand was grasped onto her waist, his fingers splayed out in a wide fan shape as he held himself against her for a moment allowing them both to adjust to the new feeling.

She pushed her hips back into Yoongi’s feeling him twitch inside of her, his fingers tightening around hers in a silent warning to stay still.  She was still experiencing slight aftershock from her orgasm and with her walls oversensitive she knew it wouldn’t be long before she was falling off the edge for the second time.

“Yoongi, please,” Her voice was whiny and she didn’t care if she sounded needy, she needed Yoongi to move – now.

Yoongi’s brow furrowed, his teeth nipping gently at her earlobe before he pulled back, his thick cock sliding out of her pussy only to shove himself back inside a moment later. He kept up that same excruciatingly slow rhythm, pulling out before slamming his hips back into her, the only thing keeping her from slipping forward was the desk.

Pulling himself up, Yoongi adjusted himself so that his feet were planted on either side of her own, pulling her hand back slightly so that they were still holding hands.  His other hand found its way to the small of her back as he increased his thrusts slightly, his balls sack slapping against her with every push forward.

They both moaned in unison, her eyes were closed as her head dropped back, her hips rocking in time to Yoongi’s thrusts.  She could feel her own wetness beginning to make suction noises around Yoongi’s cock as he thrust inside, the lewd sounds filling the room and she was thankful that they lived alone.  If this was them back at the dorms things would be a lot different.

Yoongi was watching her movements through half lidded eyes his tongue sticking out of the corner of mouth whenever her walls would clench tighter around him, trying to milk him of his come.  He knew that she was close and so was he, he could feel his balls drawing up tighter to his body as he snuck his hand around to her front finding the tight bud at the top of her cleft.

She let out a breathy moan as her hips thrust against his fingers as they played over her clit, the tightness in her lower stomach was becoming too much for her to hang on much longer.  Yoongi groaned when he felt her walls beginning to clench more rhythmically around his cock, his fingers working harder over her clit trying to push her over the edge before he fell himself.

“Come for me baby girl,” Yoongi groaned pushing his index finger hard onto her clit before rubbing tight circles as he continued to thrust inside of her.  “Come for daddy, baby.”

Feeling herself falling, she leaned harder on the table her forehead resting on the cool wood as she let herself fall.  Crying out, her walls clenched tightly around Yoongi’s cock, making him curse as he trust through her orgasm.  Bones weak from her second orgasm in under thirty minutes, she let herself slump against the desk further moaning as Yoongi continued to thrust his fingers still working her clit.

“Yoongi, please,” She was whining again, but this time she was too sensitive to continue and if he didn’t finish soon she was sure she was going to pass out from the sensation.

“Fuck,” Yoongi said as he felt her walls clench tighter around him as she tried to push him further over the edge.  “Just like that, baby girl.”

Yoongi’s brow furrowed as he watched himself slide in and out of her, his cock glistening from her come. Freezing for a moment, Yoongi buried himself inside of her as he came his fingers stilling on her clit.

She moaned feeling his warm seed hit the inside of her walls, biting her lip she pushed back against him a few more times before Yoongi groaned, pulling back slightly, but not leaving her warmth.  Instead his hands came to rest on both of her hips as he pulled himself together, his softening cock slipping out of her warmth as he moved.  The motion caused her to wince slightly, feeling his come start to slide out of her.  Moving so that her legs were pressed together she looked down between her legs at her feet, noticing a wet spot on one of her shoes.

Frowning to herself, she looked at it closer as Yoongi leaned against the desk next to her, oblivious to what she was looking at.  Shifting herself, she moved her foot watching as the spot caught the sunlight streaming through the windows.  Her mouth dropped open in shock, her head shooting up to shoot a death glare at her boyfriend.

“Yoongi, you ruined my shoes.”  Her voice held no real venom as she said the words, her eyes narrowed in annoyance at him.

Yoongi looked down at her feet, his eyes finding the drying spot easily a sly grin on his face as he replied, “So I did.”

Groaning at his arrogance she turned, wincing slightly as her thighs hurt from being pressed up against his desk.  She leaned herself against it, fully aware that Yoongi was staring at her being only half dressed.  He might hate those shoes, but he liked seeing her in little else other than a top and shoes, this she knew.

“Next time I wear these shoes, you’ll be all I think about.”  Her words were cheeky and she couldn’t help the small grin on her face as Yoongi’s expression turned from lust to anger.

“Never wear these shoes again, Y/N, I mean it – ever.” Yoongi growled his hands clenching onto the edge of the desk as he seethed in anger.

The only reason she was still wearing them was because they were high tops and they were too damn hard to get off when Yoongi wanted a quick fuck so they ended up being the only thing she wore the last time.  This time was one better with his patience; she still had a shirt on even though he’d managed to remove her bra without taking it off.

“Of course not, oppa,” She replied, her voice dripping with innocence as she batted her eyelashes at him. She slid up against his side pushing herself closer to him, his arm wrapping around her lower waist giving it a warning squeeze.

Leaning in close to his ear she continued, “They’re only for your eyes now anyway.”


Lily Out.

anonymous asked:

can I have a gray smut when you are seeing him after a long while because he was on tour?


It has been maybe about four months since you had seen Seonghwa. He had gone out on tour with Aomg. Of course you two facetimed whenever he had time but seeing him in person will be amazing. You missed him so much and today he comes home finally.

“It smells nice in here, why?” Your friend Laya asks. “Seonghwa is coming home finally. I have to have it looking good in here.” You smile. “Oop, in other places right.” You scream and hit her. “What time is he coming though?” “I don’t know really. I hope its soon.” Laya pats you on your back. “I’m gonna go ahead in leave. I don’t want you two to have sex while I’m here, bye girl!” You hate how blunt she is at times.

You pick up your phone, still no reply from Seonghwa. You texted him an hour ago asking where he was but he had yet to reply. He can’t be far. He supposedly flew back in from Korean three hours ago. Maybe he was with Jay somewhere. You have to stop worrying so much. The food you made can be ate tomorrow, even though you wanted it to be ate with him. As you’re putting up the food your doorbell rings. It’s Seonghwa maybe. You fix your hair and pull down your dress. “Seong…what…” your voice went down. It wasn’t him. It was a delivery man hiding behind flowers. “From Lee Seonghwa Ma’am.” You smack your teeth.

“He can send flowers but not show up.” You murmur and take the flowers.  “Baby don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry.” You quickly turn around. It’s Seonghwa, the flowers are thrown to the floor and your legs immediately wrapped around his waist. “Baby!” You scream. You take his head in your hands and look at him. “Don’t do that shit again or I’m breaking up with you.” He laughs before kissing you. You missed his lips on yours so much. “I’ve missed you so much.” He says as he starts to kiss down your neck. “Wait we’re literally in the middle of the doorway.” You giggle. He laughs and kicks the door closed with his foot.

Keep reading

Fem!Reader + Akashi and Aomine submission (NOT A REQUEST)

Hi there!

So I formally apologize ahead of time if this isn’t where I’m suppose to submit this. Sorry. I’m so terrible at this.

Not nsfw or rated-R, (just a few cuss words) just a clip and snippet of some things that had been running in my head. Each one is with a different female reader. One scenario is cute, and one is…“slice of life”? If we must call it something then let it be that. Anyways, idk what scenario blog to report this to but you were the first that appeared on my list so I just chose you. And bc your icon was adorable.

*each scenario/snipet has a song that inspired me to write it/goes well with it(personally)*

Besides that I just HAD to share this to someone to get it out of my head. I would appreciate it if you read it and tell me your reaction/commentary, yeah?

Noo, don’t ever apologise for submitting your writing okay ~ actually, I should be thanking you for submitting this in due to the lack of scenarios from myself for the past few days oops (and also for approving of my fetus akashi icon ha) and what you’ve written is aihgliegheigheughlieughlie very nicessu indeed 

Check out these two adorable scenarios under the cut!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Another scenario of how the princes and butler met their S/O than the ball and being a designer.


He was so sick of it all. Giving fake smiles, giving greetings to people who only cared about his royal status, getting offered marriage arrangements that he couldn’t care less of, everything. Under the radar of the others, he snuck out. He would probably only last about five minutes before Claude came out screeching at him like an old lady, but at least he’d get some time alone. Or at least, that’s what he thought at the moment.

“Ah, as I spin, as I spin, as I spin..” He heard a lovely voice sing.

He saw a figure of a woman sitting against a tree, wearing a white dress that hugged her knees, not caring if the ground below dirtied it. She was strumming the strings of her guitar with her eyes closed, not noticing his presence. He smiled softly as she sang the last note, her singing soothing his nerves somehow.

“Your voice is beautiful.”

“Hn!?” Her eyes popped open, her guitar pick falling out of her mouth in shock.

“Did you not want to be at the party as well?”

“I..yeah..” She looked down, somewhat guilty.

“Looks like we are one and the same,” He quietly sat down next to her, granting her his gloved hand.

“My names Wilfred, and yours?”

She reached out to accept his hand, but before she could, a flashlight burned their eyes like the scorching sun.

“Your Highness!”

“We’ll see each other again, I’m sure of it,” Wilfred kissed her hand tenderly before following his butler back into the palace.


“Ugh!” Another basketball missed the hoop like it was purposely trying to avoid it. He never could do anything when he was angry. His father and him had gotten into yet another argument, and he was trying to blow off some steam, but to no avail.

“Hey, you there, you’re never going to shoot it right if you’re throwing it with that much power.”

He looked behind him to find a girl, another orange basketball enveloped in her arms.

“What the hell? Who are you? How did you get in here?”

“This is a public basketball court,” She answered, then smirked lightly, “And I’m a nice person who gave nice advice to you.”

“I hardly think someone as short as you can play basketball,” He sighed, and that sigh became a gasp when she threw the ball to him.

“You wanna bet on that?”

“H-Hey! Do you know who I am!?” He glared fiercely at her.

“I hope it’s not someone who can turn down a challenge, because I’d be thoroughly disappointed.”

“Tch, you want a challenge? Here’s a challenge!” And with that, he began racing towards the hoop.

‘I just need to show this little brat, and then she’ll leave..’

His thoughts were proven wrong when he looked down and only found the ground looking back at him. His head snapped back at her, the scene of her throwing the ball, and it thrashing through the hoop overwhelming his senses. She spun it around on her finger after catching it once more.

“Up for another round, mister?”

An hour later, they slid down the wall, gulping down bottles of water, sweat surrounding their foreheads.

“You might want to think twice before judging people on their height now, eh?” She chuckled at him between pants.

“Whatever,” Despite his words, he was smiling as well. It had been a long time since he has had this much fun.

“I’m MC, what about you?”

“You just don’t when to stop, do you..”

“…” She waited for his response with a single raised eyebrow.

“Prince Keith.”

She spit out her water.


“Prince Roberto!” He heard his butler yell.

‘Gotta get away, gotta get away!’

However, as he attempted to do this, he crashed into a woman carrying a tray of drinks for the party, spilling the red wine all over her clothes.

“Ah! I’m sorry!” His eyes widened.

“It’s alrigh—hwaah?!” He grabbed her hand once he heard footsteps, running until he threw themselves into a room, shutting the door.


“Hm?” He smiled at her casually.

“What exactly..was that?”

“Oh, that? Running is good for the legs, right?” He answered cheerfully.

“I guess..” She looked up at him doubtfully. Then her gaze landed on all of the dresses and accessories in the room.

“Pick whatever you want, it’s my apology, princess.”

“What, now?”

“Don’t you think that it’s the winds of fate that brought us together?” He stroked her hand as his smile widened, “Or maybe you did It on purpose?”

“Absolutely not!”

“Ouch,” He winced.

“I couldn’t wear any of this, it’s way too expensive..”

“Nobody will find out, so it’s fine,” He laughed.

This caught her off guard, “For a noble of some sort, you’re so..devious..”

“Me? A noble? No, I’m afraid I am only here for you—“

“Okay, okay! I’ll try some on, just quit the cringey flirting, alright?”

He demonstrated a zipping gesture with his hand and his mouth as she went towards the beautiful dresses. The fabric felt so soft and perfect in her hands, she was so ashamed that a lowly person such as her got to try it, not that she was given any choice in the matter. As she thought this, she received a tap on the shoulder. When she turned her head, he was wearing so much jewelry that it hurt her eyes to look at it. He swung a handbag around his arm sassily, and tilted his sunglasses downwards so that she could see his chestnut eyes.

“Are you going to be my escort for today, my fine sir? I hope the ball has shrimp and cocktail sauce I can smuggle in my purse,” His high-pitched girly tone caused her to burst out laughing. He soon joined in, and they didn’t stop until tears were forming in their eyes. They quieted down after they heard a shrill and agitated voice call out his name once more.

“Gah! Have fun without me, MC!”

“How do you know my–?!”

“It’s on your name tag, see?” He tapped the imprinted name on her ruined uniform, the red wine coating the black letters and the white background. When she glanced back up again, he was gone. But, there was a specific pair of sunglasses in his place with a note over them.

We’ll meet again.


“Jan, what are we doing at a pet shop? I thought you were bringing us to a library.”

“Oops! I must have gotten the wrong place, but while we’re here..” He grinned mischievously.

“We have no reason to be here, let’s go,” Joshua turned back around to leave, but ended up coming nose to nose into a woman carrying something fluffy in her arms. She looked to be one of the employees.

“Sorry!” She quickly apologized.



“Demon!” He jumped back, pointing at the unconscious cat she was holding.

“My apologies, are you allergic?”


“No, he is not, ma’am,” Jan intervened, earning a sharp glare from his prince.

“I see. You can pet her if you’d like, she’s completely harmless.”

“No way in hell! Jan!” He searched from his butler, only to see that he was gone.


“Hwah!” He flinched at the godforsaken sound, only to see that her eyes were shut tightly still.

“She’s a heavy sleeper, sometimes she even falls asleep while she’s eating.”

Joshua shifted his gaze from the fluffy white cat to the window, where Jan was giving him a thumbs up and a smirk. He scowled at him before taking a deep breath and reaching his hand out, preparing to face his fears. His eyes widened as his palm met its fur.


“Mmn,” She smiled, putting her hand out to pet the cat as well. Joshua couldn’t get over how soft it was that he lost track of time while he was stroking her. He sure regained his thoughts when their hands met accidentally. He retracted his hand immediately, a flurry of crimson spreading across his cheeks.

“I..have to go,” He dismissed himself to spare any further embarrassment.

“We hope to see you again next time!” She grabbed the cats paw gently and moved it into a waving motion. As he walked out, a ghost of a smile appeared upon his lips.

‘Me too.’


‘I haven’t been here in such a long time..’ Glenn thought as he sat down on the grass, the sun shining brightly. He closed his eyes as his hair blew in the wind, when he heard the sound of a person nearby. His eyes popped open and he saw a girl with a water can and a bag of seeds.

‘She has to be one of the gardeners for the sunflowers in this place..’

Once she noticed his presence, he avoided her gaze in embarrassment.

“I find the flowers comforting, don’t you? It gives me some unknown nostalgia for some reason,” She swung the orange can around, “accidentally” sprinkling some on his knee.

“H-hey!” His eyes widened.

She chuckled.

“That was so on purpose!” He yelled.

“And if it was?”

“You little..” He glared at her, and that just made her laugh harder, until she went completely silent.

“What’s wrong?”

“On your head, there’s a..a..”

“A what?”


“…You’re trying to trick me again, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not! Kill it!” Her voice was fearful and high-pitched.

“Nice try, but I’m not going to fall for..” He was interrupted by the sound of buzzing, and in the corner of his eye, he saw a yellow and black figure on his nose. Before he could even think, a sharp pain came upon it, and it wasn’t the sting, it was the hand that came down on his face. His hands cupped his nose in pain, and meanwhile, she was having a battle with the bee herself. It seemed to fly towards her for revenge, and she kept trying to hit it with her water can or swatting it frantically. She was completely doing this blind, and she only noticed that she was when she fell into his lap, the bee long gone. He blushed furiously.

“Idiot..if you’re so afraid of bees, why the hell would you take up a job planting sunflowers?!”

“Shut up, I wanted to get rid of my fear, okay?!” Her face reddened as well.

He sighed and gave her a teasing smile, “You try to act so clever and mischievous, but you’re really ditzy, aren’t you?”

“I am not!”

“Prove it.”

“Fine!” She jumped up from his lap, and grabbed something away from his sight, holding it behind her back. When she displayed it in front of his eyes, his cheeks were on fire.

It was a sunflower, and its core was shaped like a heart.


It was a fine day, with beautiful weather as Louis escorted him along with his bodyguards to a city he had rarely had the chance to visit.

“Shall we go to the market, Louis? I’d like to pick up some roses to remember this exquisite city by.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

The breeze was refreshing once they got to their location. Thankfully, the flower shop was quite empty. There was a woman wearing a dark green apron tending the place, her hair up in a ponytail.

“Excuse me, Miss?” Louis called out.

“Yes?” She turned around at his words and granted them a gentle smile, “What will you two be buying today?”

“Some roses, please. Although..” After she grabbed a black plastic pot, Edward grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, “They won’t be as vibrant as your smile.”

“…” Her face flushed and her eyes were enlarged in shock. The pot easily slipped through her grasp and landed on the floor, the dirt flooding below her feet.

“Ah!” She jumped slightly when they both reached down for it at the same time, their hands meeting. She was about to pull back, but his hand held hers tenderly. When she looked up, all she saw was lavender warmth swirling in his eyes.

“What is your name, dear?”

“M-My name? Why?”

“So that the next time I visit this city, I can ask for your gorgeous face to be in my near future.”


“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady, just as I expected.”

“May I ask..why you’re being so nice to me?” She asked shyly.

“Shall we call it fate that we met on such a wonderful afternoon? I hardly think it’s a coincidence.”

Her hand started getting shaky in his grasp, so she hastily got up and arranged some red roses in the pot, and offered them to him, avoiding his gaze with a blush. Once they thanked her and left, she let out a deep breath, and noticed another ruby colored rose in the pocket of her apron.

“Huh? These aren’t one of ours..” She pulled it out and automatically noticed that the scent of it matched the scent of him. She twirled it around between her fingers and looked at it with joy.

“Fate, huh..”

Edit: Completely forgot to do the butlers because I did this ask at like 3am xD I’ll do it later, and then reblog it. <3


Okay I think I’ll answer all of the questions lmao

  1. Do you prefer traditional drawing, or digital? This is probably the most difficult question to anser ayyy. I reALLY like both. I’m not as good with digital art as with traditional art but I think both have so many nice thinGS aH- and they are so different I really can’t decide wish one ;_; tho +1 to digital art because god bless Ctrl+z
  2. How long have you been drawing? Since I was able to hold a pencil
  3. How many classes have you taken? Last summer I went to an art academy in Philadelphia for a month but aside from that, I’ve never taken any other art classes. I’m a self taught artist.
  4. Do you have a DeviantArt, personal website, or art blog? My deviantArt username is also Geheichous!
  5. What’s your favorite thing to draw? Canines! :D
  6. What’s your least favorite thing to draw? BACKGROUNDS.
  7. How often do you use references? Almost never because I don’t have internet at home so I can’t look at poses and suff so sometimes I just call my mom to pose for me xD
  8. Do you draw professionally, or just for fun? For fun! 
  9. How much time do you spend drawing on an average day? like 4/5 hours idk it depends. Lately I’m drawing more because I’m having an art exhibition soon :D
  10. Are you confident about your art? Not as much as I would want to be ayyy
  11. How many art-related blogs do you follow? like the 70% of the blogs I follow are from artists 
  12. Is it okay for people to ask you about your process? Sure! I also have things written in my FAQ so check it out too!
  13. Do you prefer to keep your art personal, or do you like drawing things for other people? I really enjoy making fanart for people or commissions c: 
  14. Do you ever collaborate with others? Yeeee I’m making a collab right now with tsukeono​ :D
  15. How long does an average piece take you to complete? It depends a lot, but a full traditional piece is arround 6-7 hours. I usually writte down in the description how much time did the work take me in my DeviantArt
  16. Do you draw more today than you did in the past, or do you draw less? Its been difficult to draw for this last two years because bachellor but I’m finally going to a Fine Arts University this year so expect more art!
  17. Do you think you’re justified in giving other people art advice? Hell yeah if they ask for it :D
  18. What are you currently trying to improve on? BACKGROUNDS. And color shading 
  19. What is the most difficult thing for you to draw? BACKGROUNDS.
  20. What is the easiest thing for you to draw? Hands and canine faces
  21. Do you like to challenge yourself? YEs but not with baCKGROUNDS.
  22. Are you confident that you’re improving steadily? Yeaa a bit, mostly with digital art
  23. Do you draw more fanart, or more original art? Fanart
  24. Do you feel jealous when you see other people’s art, or inspired? (Be honest!) BOth. When I see art i really like I’m like wAAAHHH thats SO PRETTY! And then like, I’M GOING TO CUT DOWN YOUR HANDS AND SEW THEM TO MINE SO I CAN DO THAT MAGIC YOU DO
  25. Do you like to draw in silence, or with music? With music muuch better
  26. For digital artists: what program(s) do you use? Paint Tool SAI and Photoshop CS5
  27. For digital artists: how many layers does a typical piece require? 1 for messy sketch, 1 for more accurate sketch and then an other one for all the colors (I don’t do lineart at all so I don’t need an other layer) And sometimes 2-3 more layers for shading and hinglights.
  28. For traditional artists: what medium do you like most? (Pencil, charcoals, etc) Alcohol markers+Color pencils
  29. For traditional artists: How do you usually start on a big piece? (Light sketch, colored lead, sketchpaper, etc) I usually make a lots of small pencil sketches, then choose one, scan it, print it in a bigger size and trace it into a better paper.
  30. What inspires you to not just make art, but to be a better artist? The art senpais lol, I jusT see their art and speedpaints and wips and inSPIRATION SLAPS ME RIGHT IN THE FACe.                                   Also having artist friends because they give me so many ideas to draw and making collabs with them make me feel like I MUST LVL UP MY ART SO I CAN BE AS GOOD AS THEm AND DONT DISAPPOINT THEM WITH MY SHITTY ART.
The Clear Sky Hermit: Chapter One (Andor’s Adventures!)

I have heard that the greatest persuasion is nothing more than telling the truth.

So I speak in the voice given me by my mother, Freya. I make no grand overtones or guttural whispers for dramatic effect. I am only Andor. My voice trembles.

I’ve come here to ask my father a question.

Haven’t you noticed?

Do these wings look like the product of some frivolous magic?

Whom do you suppose the statue at the bridge represents?

Not Mianite.

Keep reading

thetourguidebarbie  asked:

Klaroline - “We had an incredibly unstable love/hate relationship in college that involved a lot of excellent sex and now you’re my coworker and this is incredibly awkward and then oops we fucked in your office” AU THANK YOU LAINNNEEEE

A RIDICULOUSLY wordy thing happened, when all I was trying to write is a blowjob. You’re welcome, Angie. Smut, obviously. Broken up for easier digestion.

Come On, Take Them Off (Part One)


“…and the rest of your team will trickle in shortly, and they’ll help bring you up to speed. Any questions?”

Caroline opened her mouth, because of course she had questions, but her new boss’ gaze flitted past her, towards the door, and she smiled slightly, “Ah, there’s one of them now. You went to the same college, actually, so perhaps you know…”

“…Klaus Mikaelson,” Caroline finished the sentence, trying for neutrality but failing miserably, if the smirk Klaus shot her as he approached was anything to go by. It had been more than five years since the last time she’d seen him, and she hadn’t thought she ever would again. Caroline had thought she was over whatever weird thing they’d had. She’d thought it was stress and hormones, making her think she’d felt things that she couldn’t have.

But the way her mouth went dry, the way her heart sped up and the confusing ball of emotions Klaus had always inspired reared its ugly head? Didn’t exactly scream indifference to his presence.

Damn it.

Luckily Meredith Fell, who’d hired her, and had been giving Caroline the rundown of her new responsibilities, didn’t know her well enough to sense that anything was off. She merely smiled, and patted Klaus on the arm, “Excellent! Hopefully, you two knowing one another will ease the transition. We’re expecting great things from you, Caroline.”

Caroline smiled, and was about to say thank you, but Klaus interrupted her, making a low, amused noise. “Careful, Meredith. Caroline’s a bit of an overachiever. The first time we worked together was on a project where the rest of our group was less than helpful. She’s a bit scary, at 3AM, high on caffeine with a deadline to meet. I rather feared for my life, at moments.”

It’s a fight, not to let the smile drop off of her face. Klaus’ words seem innocent, even if the look in his eyes is heated and teasing.

Because they’d spent many late nights together. Studying, arguing, racing against the clock. How those nights had ended had evolved, with time. From contentious to cordial to something entirely different. But definitely less then innocent.

Keep reading

Ten/Rose AU: Triboelectric {1/10}

Pairing: Ten/Rose
Genre: Alternate Universe
Rating: Teen.
Summary: “The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.”
― C.G. Jung

One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / Seven / Eight / Nine / Ten / AO3.

Chapter One: Charged Encounters

{{ May, One Year Ago }}

The problem with having had three breakups in the span of twelve months was that your friends all thought it was their duty to help you. They meant well, of course. There was no doubt about that aspect of it: they did it because they cared.

Rose was grateful, she really was.

Especially considering that the first step was always: provide alcoholic drinks. Copious amounts, to be consumed liberally over the course of the first post-breakup week. Amy was good at this.

Second step: dramatically and vehemently blacken the ex in question’s personality, character, and physical traits; all the while insisting that it had been willful deceit and emotional fuckery of the highest order that had blindsided one, and not idiocy on one’s part for having not seen it coming because jerks always excelled at hiding their asshattery. Amy was really good at this, too. The Scottish accent helped.

Third step: round up an endless line of single acquaintances and start hinting that love could be found once more.

It was a set-up, alright.

Keep reading

Canon in D Major (1/8)

A/N: I will not be following the guidelines of CS AU week. What I will be doing is taking this opportunity to work on AUs I’ve either been meaning to get back to or that I’ve wanted to write forever. (This one is neither of those things, it was just a prompt I saw this morning and the muse went, WELP xD LOL). Hope you enjoy, you know how much I love AUs Xx

Word Count: 3251 | Rating: SG for Smut Glitter | ao3

Tumblr: 2 | 3 | 4ao3 (from the start)

‘hey we hooked up last night and it turns out you are my child’s teacher’ au



“Granny says to drink this,” Henry tells her, smirking as he places the cup next to her elbow. “And she said to plug your nose when you do.”

Emma groans, achy and sore and feeling sick as a dog. She manages to lift her head from the circle of her arms on the diner table to scowl at him. There’s little she can do about the former, having already taken some Advil to ease her discomfort, but damned if she’ll consume even a sip of that hangover treatment concoction Granny whips up. If it looks like tar and it smells like tar, well pfft, she’d rather take her chances with her misery.

His grin widens, hazel eyes alight with amusement as he affectionately pats her on the head. “Do me a favor, though, can you sip slowly? I made a bet with her for a plate of fries that you wouldn’t puke it back up.”

She wants to tell him it’s too early for fries, and betting for that matter, but all she’s got for him is an answering whimper, laying her cheek back against her arm and closing her eyes. “Do me a favor, kid, slide my sunglasses back down and finish your breakfast.”

Henry obliges with a chuckle, gently moving her shades over her eyes from where she’d tucked them atop her head earlier. It has the desired effect, dimming the godforsaken brightness of the diner lights that were permeating through her closed eyelids and causing her headache to worsen.

“So I take it you had a fun GNO?” he asks when she’s finished sighing in gratitude.

“A what?” she mutters, the words sound grumbly and garbled to her ears.

“A ‘girl’s night out.’ GNO. Isn’t that what Aunt Ruby calls it?”

Ah, yes. Ruby and her acronyms, that explains it. Once the confusion clears up, there are memories that flash through her mind of aforementioned ‘GNO,’ completely inappropriate memories to share with a 12 year-old, especially when he’s her son. Besides, she hardly thinks that that would be a suitable term to call the night she had anyway — particularly since she hadn’t ended the evening with the girls (oops) — but instead of enlightening Henry with any of those minor details, she makes some noise of agreement in her throat and steers the conversation into safer territory.

“Did you have fun at your sleep over?” she wonders.

He perks up immediately, shoveling forkfuls of pancake into his mouth as he launches straight into the highlights of the night, recalling how he and his friends had finished their astronomy project for Mr. Jones’ science class a few days early then proceeded to binge on pizza and play video games until midnight. He says they’d made bowls and bowls of popcorn, marathoning scary movies until they’d fallen asleep and Emma scrunches her nose in disapproval.

She would sigh exasperatedly for two reasons if she had the energy in her to do so. The first being for marathoning scary movies because she just knows he’s going to end up crawling into her bed tonight when he can’t sleep and then proceed to steal all of the covers.

And the second being for bringing up Mr. Jones again. He’s Henry’s new favorite teacher – recently moved to small-town Maine – whom her son won’t shut up about and whom he spends every available opportunity dropping not-so-subtle hints that Mr. Jones is exactly her type. She knows her kid means well, really, she does, but she doesn’t need him ‘helping’ with her love life. It’s fine just the way it is, in all of its non-existent glory, thank you very much.

“Hey, Mom,” Henry starts, sipping noisily at his hot chocolate and effortlessly easing onto a new topic, which she’s more than happy to do if it keeps him from meddling where she doesn’t want him to meddle. “So…remember how you said it would be beneficial for my growth as a human to engage in an extra curricular activity after school?”

She does remember.

She also remembers that he’d whined and rolled his eyes at her and dug his heels in over every suggestion she’d given him. Her brow arches up suspiciously, at least, she hopes it does, and she’s already dreading hearing about the activity her son has suddenly – not to mention chosen completely out of the blue – for the betterment of his person.

CanItakeguitarlessons?” Henry abruptly spits out in a rush of words that blend together.

Emma jolts upright, a strange itch between her shoulder blades that promptly disappears at the sharp pain that zings through her head and is brought on by the quick movement of sitting up. She winces and fights against the wave of nausea in her stomach, her hand pressing firmly over her mouth. She eyes Granny’s drink one more time and deeply considers it for a solid three seconds, but changes her mind when she remembers how it smells.

“Guitar lessons?” she repeats, eyeing him warily once her stomach has settled again. “Henry, that kind of activity is a commitment. You can’t just expect-”

“I know, Mom. I know.” Her son nods his head enthusiastically, eyes doe-eyed and pleading in a look that he’s had perfected since the age of two. It almost always guarantees he gets his way. Almost. 


“Okay, look. It’s twice a week, an hour long session on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That gives me tons of time to do all my homework and studying, plus chores, and still have time to practice in between lessons…and Mr. Jones, well…he’s a guitarist. He’s in a band and he happens to teach-”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Mr. Jones?” She narrows her eyes at him. It’s all so clear to her now. “Henry, I swear to God. If this is some sort of ploy to try to set me up with your science teacher-”

Mom,” he gasps, feigning offense, his hand on his chest as if absolutely appalled by her accusation. “I would never!

If he thinks he’s fooling her for one second, he’s in for a rude awakening.

The door to the diner opens then, the chiming of the bell attached just above it interrupting them and going straight to her far too fragile head. She groans again, covering her ears with her hands and feeling like she may just combust from the ringing echoing around where her brain was once functioning.

Mr. Jones!” Henry calls out suddenly, and Emma swears internally at her stinking good fortune.

Of course he would walk through the door at that precise moment, the new science teacher, the one her kid was currently trying to convince her to let him take guitar lessons from, the one he was trying to play matchmaker for, with her, and of course she has to be at her very worst, poorly recovering from a GNO…that led to a ONS (‘one night stand,’ hey, she’s hip with some lingo) — an amazing one night stand, but that’s beside the point — with a hangover from hell.

Emma doesn’t know whether she wants to crawl under the table to escape Henry, who, by some dumb stroke of luck, is actually getting the chance to play Cupid right now, or if it’s just to get away from her copious amounts of embarrassment presently burning her cheeks and tinging them pink at being seen by her son’s teacher in this state.

Both. It’s definitely both.

Well, at least she knows how to make a first impression.

There’s a clicking of boots, something familiar in his gait as he approaches their table, but she can’t quite place it, and then there’s a shadow looming over her. She squints as she angles her head and forces herself to look up at him. All she gets is his profile because he’s looking at Henry, but it slams into her like a freight train anyway, promptly knocking her world off its axis and the air from her lungs in one fell swoop.

She’d know that profile anywhere. She spent enough time looking at it – and the rest of him – the night before at The Rabbit Hole.

Emma has a very genuine fear that she’s going to be sick for real this time; it all comes to her in a rush of memories and overwhelming emotions. The handsome guitarist of that band they’ve been coming to watch every Friday night for the last three weeks. His hand warm in hers when he’d sauntered over after their set to say hello and introduce himself. Ruby and Mary Margaret’s encouraging looks followed by their quick and discreet exits. Too many shots of rum. Far too many.

A seaside apartment. Eager hands. Hungry lips. Drunk on kisses that seemed to go on forever. Rough, calloused fingers, a clever tongue, the scrape of scruff harsh against the delicate skin of her inner thighs. Too-blue eyes and that infuriating dimpled smile as he’d held her gaze and watched her fall apart beneath his mouth. Twice.

Oh God. Oh God.

Killian Jones — she remembers now that he had introduced himself with his full name — musician, Sex God, middle school science teacher.

“Henry, good morning, lad,” he smiles. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Oh, she remembers that accent too. Gruff and lilting in her ear as he’d bent her over his couch, chest pressed against her back, chin tucked over her shoulder, then gripped her hips and filled her roughly from behind – “More? Do you want more, love?”


Who the hell did she piss off in another lifetime to deserve this. There is absolutely no coming back from this. None. Zip. Zilch.

“Small town,” Henry shrugs, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “It was bound to happen eventually. Ah, Mr. Jones, this is my mom! Mom, Mr. Jones.”

He scratches behind his ear (an adorable nervous tick she’d become familiar with last night) and chuckles lightly. “It’s the weekend, Henry, I wouldn’t be opposed if you’d just call me Killian. ‘Mr. Jones’ sounds so-”

His thought cuts off as he turns to glance at her, meets her eyes as she stares at him over the rim of her glasses. She reaches up to slowly pull them off, setting them on the table and blinking under the fluorescent lights. Ugh. It’s so unfair that he look like that, that he be incredibly composed and well-spoken and put-together (practically glowing, honestly) and so chipper, while she sits here, barely able to hold her head up and looking and feeling like absolute shit.

Killian’s eyes widen comically on hers and if she wasn’t feeling so awful, she’d double over with laughter.

Emma,” he breathes.

She watches an array of emotions flicker across his face — surprise, relief, something else entirely that she’s not sure she’s ready to deal with beyond the safety of night and without the courage of booze — and a lump abruptly lodges in her throat. She can’t keep the images from forming in her brain in rapid succession-

Her legs anchored around his hips, feet locked at the small of his back. His teeth latched around one of her nipples, tugging roughly enough to make her cry out before soothing away the ache with the flat of his tongue. Her back arching off the bed when she came, a wordless cry stealing her breath as tiny dots danced behind her closed eyelids. Their fingers intertwining and his hand pressing hers into the mattress, her name a broken whisper against her lips while he’d continued to fuck her through it, slowing his pace and easing her down ever so gently only to bring her back up one more time.

Again,” he’d demanded, insatiable and relentless, his hips grinding into hers. Stroke after delicious stroke, the thick drag of his cock filling her up and pulling her higher and higher. The fingers of his free hand had slipped between them to rub tight little circles over her clit until the pleasure was too much to bear, bursting outwards from her core in a flash of all-consuming white heat, sending her into the stars and him tumbling after her.

She exhales heavily, a whoosh of air that expels between her parted lips, and she doesn’t feel anything close to steady because there’s more where that came from, simmering just beneath the surface. Her heart beats a furious rhythm in her chest while she keeps staring at him, pounding harshly against her ribcage when she can see her exact thoughts mirrored in his unwavering gaze.

“Wait a second,” Henry speaks up, eyeing the two of them carefully. “You two know each other already?”

Rather intimately, she’s afraid, her stomach twisting itself into anxious knots. But Henry doesn’t need to know that.

Nor does he need to know how he’d had her twice more over the course of the night. Once on his kitchen table when he’d woken up and found her dressed in his shirt as she’d perused the contents of his fridge. He’d simply tugged the offending material up and off until he could bare her body for his greedy hands, then laid her out like a feast, spreading her legs wide and slipping inside her without preamble. The last time had been in the hallway outside of his room after they’d hydrated and shared a carton of ice cream between them. They’d tripped in their haste to get back to his bed, going down in a tangle of limbs and giggles. It was a mild inconvenience, the detour to the floor, but it was nothing that couldn’t be remedied with her simply rolling him onto his back, straddling his hips, and riding him into oblivion with her head thrown back while both of his hands gripped her hips to help her keep pace.

And Henry definitely doesn’t need to know about how she walk of shame’d it into their home this morning, her hair a wild tangle of curls – courtesy of Mr. fucking Jones himself – make-up smudged around her eyes, wearing nothing but a stolen flannel shirt and a pair of well-loved sweat pants with her stilettos in her hand and her dress and undergarments (in complete tatters) in her purse.

“Something like that,” Killian supplies, unable to take his eyes off of her.

Emma has to swallow around the lump still stuck in her throat when warmth blooms back into her cheeks.

“Oh,” Henry answers, then waits for a beat. “Well, that’s great!”

He’s positively ecstatic about this latest development. Emma can’t say she shares the sentiment.

“Let me just grab you a menu, Killian,” her son snickers. “You can have breakfast with us and tell my mom why she should let me take guitar lessons with you and then explain all the benefits that come with learning to play an instrument.”

(She’s had those hands on her, everywhere. She knows exactly what the benefits of playing an instrument are. Hell, she’s got the fingerprint bruises on her hips to prove it.)

Her menace of a son has the audacity to wink at her as he leaves and she swears if she makes it out of this breakfast alive, she’s going to ground him to infinity and beyond.

The silence is tense, stretching on for what feels like hours before Killian eventually sighs and slides in beside her in the booth. She is forced to scoot over to make more room for him, but strangely, she doesn’t feel trapped. He moves to speak, mouth opening as he gestures at her with his hand, but the words don’t come. He tries again only to fail once more, and it’s his abrupt chuckling as he scrubs his hands over his face that draws her from her brooding thoughts.

“Well aren’t you particularly cheery this morning,” she snaps, refusing to look at him while she crosses her arms over her chest.

He taps at the untouched glass of thick, tarry-looking substance. “Granny’s hangover special. It works wonders.”

She grimaces, gaze flickering back and forth between him and the drink. “Really?” she asks incredulously.

“Aye,” he says, meeting her eyes again. 

His are searching, vibrant and clear, open. (Intimidating, overwhelming, dangerous.) 

The hair falling over his brow gives a charming, boyish quality to him, and oh yeah, he’s definitely handsome. Perhaps more so in the light of the day (she didn’t stick around long enough to find out, sneaking out of his place like a thief under the cover of twilight), and he-

“You stole my shirt,” he murmurs after a moment, interrupting her thought. “And my favorite pair of sweats.”

Borrowed,” she corrects, promptly scowling at him.

“Is that right?” He angles to face her, fingers tapping out an erratic rhythm on the table while he cants his head at her. “And when exactly were you intending to return them?”

She opens her mouth to reply then abruptly closes it when no words come out. Well shit. He’s got her there, especially since she never intended to see him again, and the bastard knows it.  

Stole,” he repeats with a shrug of his shoulders and an obnoxious scrunch of his nose. “I could report you to the town Sheriff, you know.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I am the town Sheriff.”

“Even better,” Killian says. “I formally withdraw all charges of thievery-”

She gives an unladylike snort at that. “Oh, really?”

“Aye, it’ll save you the trouble of writing up a report.” (God, she really hates those dimples in his cheeks and how his eyes crinkle when he smiles.) “On the condition that you have dinner with me, of course.”

Of course. “What, like a date?”


“I am not having dinner with you.”

“Why not? You’ve had everything else with me.” He smirks, lips curling up as he presses his tongue into his cheek. “Four times, if I’m not mistaken.”

She flushes at that, heat creeping up her neck and into her cheeks, staining the tips of her ears. “I’m not dating you, Killian,” she hisses. “Last night- that was- it wasn’t…that was just a one time thing, okay?”

He contemplates her for long time, long enough that she begins to squirm uncomfortably in her seat beneath his too-perceptive gaze. He merely shrugs at her, seemingly unfazed.

“That’s unfortunate, I do make a delightful breakfast…but I suppose now you’ll never know.”

She laughs, she can’t help herself, the knot in her stomach finally unraveling as she reaches up to flick him on the forehead. It’s easy to settle in beside him, to feel far more relaxed than she had moments ago. She tries not to think too much about that, or the reason behind it.

“I’m sure I’ll survive. Now why don’t you convince me why I should let my son take guitar lessons from you.”

(He’s far more convincing than she anticipated. Henry purchases a guitar later that evening and begins seeing Killian twice a week that Tuesday. He’s good with her boy and perhaps even worse is that he’s good with her.

Much to her chagrin and never-ending annoyance, she finds him as smart, funny, and charming in the daytime as she had in the night.

Damn it. 

What’s worse, is that he’s a man of his word. He does in fact make a rather delightful breakfast, for dinner that is, wooing her with waffles and scrambled eggs and thick slices of bacon over candlelight and soft music. He swoops in and kisses her over round two of waffles and syrup before she can argue about date semantics. Sneaky bastard.)