#teach him your nerdy ways

[screampied]

☆ cw. fem! reader, college au, first lesson, dumbification, praise, he's so nerdy, squırting, unprotected, mdni.

nerd! nanami who ends up teaching you a few ‘fundamentals’ of squirting after you end up gushing out by accident.

“oh, my,” he’d huskily croon, taking a short glance at your body that’s laid flat on his timber desk. mousy eyes zero up ‘n down your entire frame before he groans, feeling your legs snake around his slim torso. after another hourly long session of cramming your brain with pounds of boring information, you’d probably forget by the next day, you told nanami that you wanted to try out ‘penetration.’ and now, that came with you gushing straight out with his meaty shaft buried snugly deep inside of you. he grows quiet, smacking his lips as he feels your slobbering cunt dripping wetly like a running never-ending faucet. it’s almost adorable with the way your face scrunches up and you’re clawing at the buckle of his drooping belt with shaky hands. “we haven’t gone over that area yet, sweetheart,” and you’re moaning, feeling your back tickle against the scattered piles of marked papers that laid directly underneath you. “ah, ah. don’t close ‘em,” he purrs, staring as your stick-glossed quavery legs try to snap themselves shut. “let me examine the wet problem a bit closer.”

“w- was that supposed to happen?” you breathe through rushed pants, frantically chewing on your bottom lip as you watch him pull out. he’s slow, feeling your slight muscles tense and spasm as you drenched the entirety of his stilled dick with molasses of your webby slick. “f- fuck,” you whimper, and nanami’s pressing a pointed thumb down against the pearly top part of your tender clit. gradually, he’s swirling a plethora of exaggerated shapes alllll around your tender entrance, lowering his head once his turgid cock’s fully out of you.

with a placid hum, nanami nods. “don’t fret, sweet thing. it’s normal,” and you prepare a deep, heavy breath as you try to peek down, watching nanami re-adjust his clear-framed glasses. “but, do you think you can do that again? i’m . . having a bit of trouble with my vision,” and he softly presses a chaste kiss against your cunt. shortly after, a slimy dewy web of stringy juices merrily glues against his lips. “i believe if my hypothesis is correct . . if ‘m closer like thiiiis,” and you moan, feeling the cold lenses of his glasses press right up against your puffed folds. “you’ll help me solve just how much of a wet girl you can get for me this time.”

openly, nanami eyes at your sopping pussy that’s just pouring from all areas with so many dewdrops of slick. a shimmery stream of your syrupy arousal cascades down the slot of your entrance and oh- it’s so pretty. at least to him.

if you squinted enough, you could see the obscene mirroring reflection of the shiny glossed view that rests between your legs from the clear lenses of his glasses. “clitoral glands,” he starts to ramble, rubbing a thumb near the top bulb-shaped part of your twitching heat. “clitoral body,” and you moan, feeling him swerve his digit down lower. “but let’s skip to . . . her,” nanami coos huskily, and you gasp once his round thumb plugs itself inside you after just a few loose inches. you swallowed that single digit right up oh-so blissfully.

like a hidden trick of a magician—his finger disappears inside of your cunt, and it presses against a particular small texture right above your lower opening. “. . that pretty urethra of yours.”

there - that’s where you felt the exact pressure of yourself gushing out, creaming down his cock with such a vivid risqué spray.

you’re still getting over it as your jaw dangles open—mouth cutely wholly ajar and all. as nanami continues to toy with your slobbering clit, he silently grumbles whatever extra clitoris facts underneath his breath. a single finger that was tucked inside of your gummy orifice gradually transitions into two, and you let off the sweetest moan that rang against his ears.

“such a pretty pussy from an even prettier girl,” and his words smokily deepen as he loudly ‘pops!’ both fingers out of your drenched slit. it’s all puffy now, drooling from each slippery flap. nanami sits up before re-aligning his milky-covered tip against your sobbing cunt.. “mini pop quiz,” he grumbles, letting off a deep sigh once his flushed crownhead languidly slides its way between the split of your folds. you’re laid back against the desk with a pout twisting across both sides of your lips.

pop… quiz?

nanami adjusts his crooked glasses by shoving them slightly back with a middle finger before humming. “riddle me this,” and a sweet moan drags its way past your throat once he’s smearing his bulbous tip across your sticky entrance.

left-to-right and it’s hypnotic. “what is the majorly important gland of the clit that helps lubricate the vagina properly?” and nanami presses a large hand on your tummy, simpering at the cute silence for an answer. with a snicker, he tilts his head at your quirked brow. “oh- c’mon. this is easy, we talked about this two days ago.”

“t . . the um-” you stammer, the throbbing of your clit increasing with each delicious second that passed. with your mind joggling its empty memory, you inhale a moan that was desperately trying to escape from your spit-stained lips. “the clitoral glands?”

“close, but no, dumb girl,” and with a smack, nanami whacks his swollen tip against the front of your weeping pussy. you finally release that moan you were holding onto with heave after heave puffing out your chest. “try again. this time, actually use that brain for me, yeah?”

you pout, and after about four seconds you left off a whiny grump. “is it . . the skene’s glands?”

“good girl,” and you let off a needy mewl once he rubs a palm against your pussy. his personal way of praising you without words, even after calling you a ‘good girl.’

it’s a soft, enticing rub that smears the entirety of your slick around his entire palm, coating it right away.

you’re so wet - pathetically drenched that you stick your candied juices all over the prints of his hand.

“it’s very important that you know about the skene’s glands. just like how important it is for me to teach you how soaked you are,” and you don’t even realize it, but the second he spanks against your cunt once more with his palm, you’re squirting . . again.

it’s a thick shiny geyser that ends up spurting out of you with a loud pssssh! and your toes curled in ecstatic rapture. you’re whining at how sudden and abrupt it was, and nanami just shakes his head with a wry smile. a hand maneuvers in a circular rotation against your pussy as you finish your three-second monumental high. “f- fuuuck, fuck!” you whimper out the same colorful syllables through your lips as your eyelids droop.

as you’re panting, still feeling the scattered bundles of paper rub and prick against the back of your skin, you eye nanami through murky peripherals. pretty ‘n glossed-eyed, you let off a shaky puff before moaning. “did . . did i pass?”

“not quite,” nanami takes his glasses off. they were still a bit soaked from earlier, a bit of your own droplets of literal juices fogging the lenses before he gave it a sweet lick. filthy. nanami squints at your twitching body before slithering a fat thumb down your tender, convulsing pussy for the nth and last time. “think we still have more basics to go over,” and he positions his head right back down between the eagle-spread valley of your legs, whistling riiiight between your driveling, puffy slit.

“besides,” and you whine once he gives your cunt its final, sloppy spank. “my only criticism— is that, we could work on that squirt velocity a little bit more,” and he pats your cunt before staring straight at your pulsating entrance, hungrily licking his lips.

“i wouldn’t mind training her, heh.”

[rezitio]

𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐉𝐎 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒

<- 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔

warnings: academic rival!tutor!bullied!bf!dom!sub!nerdjo x rr. porno vids, toys, bondage, jerking it, bullying, tit sucking, unsafe, hate sex, oralf! piv and many more

━━━━━━━━

01: He's finally done it. It's time you get a taste of your own medicine, you bully. God he's going to have some fun with you.

02: You've been coming over for tutoring at Gojo's house everyday. Everyday he looses his mind trying to teach you the basics. For a whole week you two haven't gotten anywhere, but he knows how to change that. His going to start punishing you

03: You love bullying gojo. Where it's teasing him in class, flashing him a titty to get him distracted or pumping his dick after school.

"Hm, you promise you weren't staring at me from the bleachers... because I could have swore I saw your boner... it's okay I won't get mad but... my boyfriend might..."

04. You're finding it hard to believe it now when he said

"I've never seen boobs before."

With the way he's munching on your nipples like a starved warrior.

05. You two always use a condom it's a must . But you just can't take it anymore you needed to feel him and he need to feel you

06. What would everyone say if this tape got leaked. Your friends? Your jocky boyfriend? Your parents? The whole damn school. No one would expect that the cheer captain is fucking the nerdy boy

07. After studying all night he goes to bed to see his bimbo!girl sprayed out begging for his tounge. Who is he to refuse

08. You hated him. Why did they have to put you two as partners.

"Stop Gojo we need to finish the project..."

"So...should I stop?"

"No, asshole! Put it in!"

09. Oh just two academically rivals when one of them underperformed.

"A 76? We both know you could do better so tell me what happened....uh uh.... wrong answer."

"Come on baby, do it. Beg me for forgiveness after you disappointed me."

10. Excusing himself to your bathroom only to shake off the hard he got from you.

REZITIO ©️ favs r in blue! Thinking of kengan ashura twitter links. Went out of my theme, ik but came out so pretty

[okwonyo]

R U MINE ？ ✶ biker!enha

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝗂𝗄𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾

𝟏𝟔𝟐𝟒𝒾──── enhypen 𝗑 f!rea ✿ fluff 𓂋 kissing skinship cursing ❞ 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ｡

𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦

HEESEUNG

he is making you nervous. very much so. with his hands on your hips, his body sitting right behind and you his breath against your nape— perhaps to teach you how to drive his bike— but you fear you are going to crack the bike at some point.

“breath, sweetheart,” he whispers, his grin obvious at the sound of his voice. you bet he feels

all mighty at this exact moment. his hands pressed your hips gently, in an attempt to reassure you. “i got you, i promise.”

your entire body tense. your grip on the handlebar becomes stronger, your fingers push against the clutch lever on one side and the front brake lever on the other side. your heartbeat skips as the machine turns on— defying every road’s law ever made.

“woah, woah,” your boyfriend says. he laughs, your cheeks flaming, whereupon his big hands cover yours. “we got all the time in the world.”

he slows the motorcycle before settling his hands back on your body. that sit on your waist as if it was their birthday right, making your entire body shivers as you ride the bike.

heeseung kisses your neck, he embraces your waist, presses his chest against your back, humming a gentle praise against your skin, “you are doing it right, baby.”

JAY

“turn around, princess,” jay’s tone his honey–coated. with his hands on your shoulders, he turns you around, making your back his face him.

you can’t lie. you are confused. there is not reason for him to ask you to that— unless he got a surprise for you, which you doubt. funnily enough, he in fact does.

you are taken aback when his fingers run through your hair smoothly. even more when he starts to part them. you quickly understand what he is doing: brain ding your hair to put the helmet on. because he knows you don’t like when your hair becomes messy.

what surprises you the most isn’t the gesture, but how perfectly he is doing it. his touch is gentle as always and you know that the end is going to be beyond satisfying.

he finishes his job by wrapping the hair tie he keeps on his wrist around the bottom of the brand new braid, “here you go, my love.”

“where did you learn to braid like this?” you tease when he is done, facing him once again while your finger touches your perfectly braided hair.

jay kisses your forehead, “i called your mom to know how you liked them,” then he puts on your helmet ever so casually. as if he didn’t turn your world upside down.

JAKE

he calls you at the right time, right when you finished to get ready for the night, “h–hey,” he says, his usual greeting. “i have something to tell you, can you come down?”

“uh, sure,” you laugh, confused and a tad worried at his tone: he seems more nervous than usual. “is everything okay?

you hear jake sigh and the smile that draws itself on his lips, “yes, i just get nervous to see you.”

you bite down a smile. you don’t trust yourself enough to formulate a correct answer at the current moment, if it’s not giggling. you decide to hang up and leave your apartment.

you walk to the way of your building with a giddy feeling, excited to see what makes jake so nervous. what is the silly secret your nerdy boyfriend seems to be hiding from you?

when you the cool night hair brushes over your skin, the sight of jake makes your heart stutter. his thick glasses are still sitting on his pretty nose but he isn’t wearing his usual out wear— but a lather jacket and black pants to match well with the motorcycle he is leaning on.

you step closer to him with a smile on your face, “is that what you were too nervous to share?” jake’s fluffy brown hair move with the wind. “that you are cooler than i thought?”

jake blush, “ah, i didn’t know if you were in—” the rest of his sentence dies in an uncontrollable whine after you cup his face and kiss him.

SUNGHOON

sunghoon is going to go insane. listen, he knows how pretty you, how easy it is to be attracted by you like some sort of magnet. he knows it. he knows it because he is your boyfriend who fell victim to your effortless attractiveness.

if he let his inner thoughts, who are feed by jealousy, win, he would lock everyone who looks at you for too long in a basement. but he can’t do that. he can only give them a lingering, menacing look that tells them ‘don’t touch, don’t look, i’ll kill you’— yet some of them don’t get the hint.

and when fuckers in the streets ask his girl if she needs a ride, his jaw clenches so much that he gets a bit scared it will pop out and his knuckles are slowly turning white.

he takes a deep breath before walking to you. he grabs your waist with one hand and walks you away from the man, a deep “c’mere, baby,” slipping from his mouth.

your knight in shining armor guides you to his own bike. “thank you for saving me, hoon,” you laugh, noticing the jealousy written on his face.

“you don’t need another ride,” he answers. he wraps his hand around your neck gently, to give you a kiss, knowing that the other is watching. he whispers against your lips, “you already have me.”

SUNOO

the best thing about having a boyfriend with an obsession for bikes isn’t the rides or how insanely hot he is. it’s something more useful, something that you can use to your advantage.

no matter where you are, if it’s not far from your apartment, sunoo can reach it in a matter of few minutes. therefore you can ask him for anything and he will bring it to you in a hurry. thanks to the fact he is always in the same area as you are.

you also find it very amusing how he doesn’t need to call your phone and tell you that he is here for you to know. you could recognize the sound of his motorcycle from miles away.

truly, your favorite part of all this is how you get to see him take off his helmet, shake his head to rearrange his hair and his chest heaving in a relieved sigh. you want to taste him.

“hey, pretty,” he leans in to kiss your cheek. your turn your head and capture his lips with yours when he tries to pull away. he smirks when you let him go, “wow you were hungry weren’t you?”

you could push him for this, but you can’t. he bought you lunch and he’s too hot to push him away. “haha,” you deadpan, taking the lunchbox in his hand. “thank you.”

JUNGWON

“what the fuck?” you exclaim as soon as your eyes catches the insane sight behind the door’s window. the cab’s chauffeur looks at you from the rearview, wondering what is happening but you are busy looking at your boyfriend on his bike waving at you.

jungwon knows he is playing a very risky game. you were already extremely mad at him when you stormed out of the apartment. he knows that getting on his bike to follow your can either be his best or worst idea ever.

but what else can he do? you are not answering his calls nor checking his texts. you barely even looked at him during the entire morning before leaving. he couldn’t let you go to work, still angry at him.

he is quite relieved when your cab parks. he gets off his bike immediately, taking of his helmet and walking to the car.

“jungwon, what the hell—” you start as soon as he is close enough to hear you. the man is already getting on his knees before you can cuss him out. “oh my god..”

“listen, i’m sorry, please,” he starts to beg, watching you run your fingers through your hair. “i didn’t mean to hurt you or do something bad— it won’t happen again.”

“jungwon, get up,” he does as you order.

“you can’t be mad at me forever, angel, it breaks my heart.”

you sigh, he did make a lot of efforts. “go home, i’ll answers your calls.”

it’s a win for him.

RIKI

“look to your left,” your boyfriend says through the phone. you turn your head to the direction he indicated, a little hesitant and nervous for some reason yourself ignores.

your breath catches when his gaze locks with yours. riki, with his read leather jacket—matching his bike—and his cool sunglasses, are waiting for you not far away.

he takes his glasses off and leans in the kiss your lips upon you are close enough to him, “hey pretty girl, you are gorgeous.”

you smile against your boyfriend’s mouth. and your eyes wander on the bike behind him when he pulls away. you’ve never seen this one before—“is it a new one?”

riki doesn’t reply right away, you don’t think your question reaches his ears yet. he is hung on your lips for the life of him. “mh?” he looks at the bike like he forgot it was there, “oh, yes i won a race,” then he is coming for your lips again, “i deserve a reward for that, don’t you think?”

“didn’t you already have one?” you laugh. yet, you still let him kiss you.

riki’s hand hold your waist, pulling you closer than you already. “i know, babe,” he whispers, tilting his head to the side for a better angle. “i wanted another.”

분지 ܃ this isn’t my best work but i hope you enjoy nonetheless 🎀

taglist ( open )

[cinnasite]

nerd gone viral ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

꩜ pairing: nerd!armin arlert x female reader

꩜ warnings: explicit content, language

꩜ word count: 3.7k

꩜ synopsis: a harmless campus interview turns your best friend into an overnight internet sensation—and suddenly, every thirsty TikTok comment feels like it’s whispering your secret.

☆ art cred: @/juvianism on instagram :3

You nearly spill your coffee all over your Political Theory textbook when you unlock your phone. Another two hundred comments on that TikTok. You know you shouldn't check—you probably watched it about a million times yesterday alone—but your fingers move before your brain can scream at you to stop.

@/bookslvt01: ok but the way he talks about virginia woolf??? NEED HIM CARNALLY @/colossalthighs: i’d let him annotate my entire body fr @/arlertmeout: he looks like he apologises before choking you

You bite your lip, half-entertained and half-horrified, scrolling through the endless comments under what was supposed to be an innocent campus interview. The video has 2.3 million views now, completely insane for something filmed outside the modest main library—the same one you find yourself in at the moment—on a random Tuesday.

"Ugh, don’t tell me. You're watching it again, aren't you?"

Your head snaps up comically quick, caught red-handed, to find Sasha sliding into the seat across from you at your usual table, eyeing your phone screen with knowing amusement. 

"What? No."

"You are! You have that weird, glazed look in your eyes. The same one you get when Professor Ackerman extends the deadline for our research papers." Sasha unwraps what appears to be her third sandwich of the day. You don't mention how it’s only twelve in the afternoon. "You know you could just talk to him about it, right? He's literally one of your best friends."

"And say what exactly?" you finally close the godforsaken app, trying to ignore how your screen time report is definitely going to be embarrassing this week. "Hey Armin, I've watched your viral video more times than I can remember and I'm having very inappropriate thoughts about your tongue piercing that I absolutely shouldn't be having about my friend?"

Sasha snickers, a piece of lettuce tumbling to the table from her mouth. "Well, when you put it like that... actually, yes. One hundred percent that."

"Sasha, I can't just—" you frown in frustration, inhaling deeply. "It's complicated."

"How is it complicated? You've had a crush on him since freshman year."

"That was different. That was before we became friends. Before I knew him." You lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling as fond memories overwhelm you. "Back then he was just this cute, nerdy guy in my intro psych class who got excited about statistical analysis and always smelled like that vanilla body wash I love. I used to sit behind him just to watch him get all animated during discussions about cognitive behavioural theory, you know?"

Sasha merely rolls her eyes. "Jesus, and you call me demented. Well, what about now?"

"Now? Now, he's Armin. He's my friend who stays up until 3 A.M. to help me with my assignments, who brings me soup when I'm sick, who texts me the dumbest memes about historical figures," you slump forward, close to pouting. "He's the guy who spent six hours teaching me how to play that MMO he's obsessed with just because I mentioned being bored over winter break. He's..."

"He's the guy you're infatuated with," Sasha supplies helpfully.

"I'm not," you start to protest, then wisely opt to give up instead. "Okay, maybe. But that's exactly the problem. I can't risk blowing up our friendship just because some stupid interview made me realise I want to climb him like a tree."

"A tree with a tongue piercing," Sasha adds with a cheeky grin.

"Fuck’s sake, don't remind me," you let your head rest against the table. "Do you know how many times I've replayed that two-second clip where he licks his lips? It's pathetic."

"It's not pathetic, it's kind of sweet. There's a difference." Sasha takes another bite of her sandwich, her eyes evidently lighting up. "Besides, you don't know that he doesn't feel the same way. Have you seen how he looks at you during our study sessions? Boy's got it bad."

"He looks at me like a friend, Sasha. Because that's what we are."

"Believe me, friends don't look at friends the way he looked at you last Friday when you were explaining your thesis argument. I thought he was going to combust from sexual tension."

Before you can blatantly disagree, you hear an all too familiar voice behind you.

"Sexual tension about what now?"

Your stomach drops directly through the floor. You turn around carefully, and there he is—Armin Arlert, campus's newest digital sensation, standing there with that signature bemused expression he gets when he catches you and Sasha gossiping. His blonde hair is mussed like he's been running his hands through it, and he's wearing that adorable blue sweater that brings out his eyes deliciously.

"Oh, um..." You scramble for an explanation, panicking on the inside. "We were just talking about... about..."

"About how Professor Ackerman's lectures are basically academic foreplay," Sasha jumps in smoothly. "All that tension and buildup with no satisfying conclusion. I mean, hello?"

Armin laughs, the sound warm and comforting. "That's fascinatingly accurate, I’ll admit." He shifts his weight, and you only then notice he's carrying his laptop bag and what seems to be a bag of takeout. "Mind if I join you? I brought Thai food and figured you might be hungry since you've been here since—," he checks his phone, "—9 A.M., according to the text you sent complaining about how it’s criminal that the library opens so early on weekends."

Your heart does a little flip at his consideration. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to." He slides into the chair next to you, close enough that you can smell his cologne—a rich blend of velvety caramel and toasted cinnamon that positively makes you want to lick him all over. 

Stop. None of that, you horny bastard.

"Besides, I figured you might want to hear about the latest developments in my accidental internet fame."

Sasha perks up at once. "Hell, yeah. Have you been recognised on campus yet?"

"Five times yesterday," Armin appears to lament, pulling containers out of the bag. "Including once in the bathroom, which was... awkward, to say the least." He hands you your usual order without asking what you want. "But the weirdest part is definitely the DMs."

"DMs?" you pipe up, failing to ignore how domestic this feels what with him knowing exactly what you like. Typical, precious Armin.

"You have no idea," he opens his laptop and turns it toward you two with a nervous twitch. "I've gotten marriage proposals, offers to 'show me a good time,' and at least a hundred messages asking about my tongue piercing specifically."

Your face burns as you push away the thought that you've been mentally composing similar messages. "That's... wow."

"The worst part is, most of them are asking if I'd be interested in demonstrating its uses." He fidgets with his glasses, coming across as embarrassed but also endearing. "I had no idea that thing would cause such a reaction."

"Well, it is pretty noticeable," Sasha remarks with a meaningful peek at you. "Very... attention-grabbing."

"I guess." Armin glances at you pointedly. "What do you think? You've seen the video, right?"

The question is innocent enough, but something in his tone makes you look at him more carefully. There's an out-of-the-ordinary implication that you can't quite put your finger on. "Uh... yeah, I've seen it," you manage to croak out. Terrific. Could you get any stiffer?

"And?"

"And what?"

"What did you think?"

You stare at him blankly, trying to figure out if this is a normal friend question or if you’re incorrectly perceiving the foreign edge of curiosity behind it. "I thought... I mean, your book recommendations were really good. Very passionate."

"Passionate," he repeats, the fleeting flash of understanding across his face confirming your earlier weariness. "That's interesting."

Sasha's phone cuts through the uneasiness with its incessant buzzing, and she scans it with obviously fake surprise. "Oh no, would you look at that. I have to go... meet... someone... about... a... very real thing... I have." She begins gathering her stuff with awfully suspicious speed. "You two have fun talking about books. And passion. And tongue piercings."

"Huh? Wait. Sasha—" you squeak out, but she's already dashing out of the private study room you had booked for the both of you until late afternoon (traitor). Which leaves you alone with Armin, who's scrutinising you with an expression you can't quite read.

"Alright," he speaks after a moment, closing his laptop and leaning back in his chair. "Want to tell me what you actually thought about the video?"

"I already told you."

"No, you gave me the safe answer." He tilts his head slightly, studying you with purpose. "Come on, we've been friends for two years. I know when you're holding back."

You hastily shove some noodles in your mouth, avoiding his gaze. "I'm not holding back."

"Really? Because Sasha seemed to think you had some important opinions about it."

You make a mental note to start drafting your plan for the girl’s well-deserved comeuppance. "Sasha talks too much."

"She does," Armin agrees. "But she's usually right about things. Especially when it comes to you."

The rarely there confidence in his tone makes you look up and, when you meet his gaze, the intensity catches you off guard. "What do you want me to say?"

"Did you know," he continues conversationally, "that TikTok shows you analytics about who's viewed your videos?"

Almost instantly, your heart stops. "What?"

"Mhm. Very detailed analytics. Including multiple views from the same account." His lips quirk up in a small smile. "Want to guess how many times your account shows up in my viewer list?"

You feel heat creeping up your neck. "I don't know what you're talking about." You briefly consider denying reality, blaming a technical issue, or claiming a glitch in the matrix—but none of it sticks.

"Seventy-seven times," he announces, the metaphorical checkmate hitting you straight in the chest. "As of this morning."

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. He knows. "I can explain—"

"Can you?" He angles himself forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Because I've been trying to figure out why my very good friend has watched a boring thirty-second video of me talking about books seventy-seven times."

You want to run away, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I... the algorithm is weird sometimes?"

Armin chuckles, low and warm, absent of any malice. "Try again."

"I was checking to see if the view count was going up?"

"Nope."

You're quiet for a long moment, trying to figure out how to get out of this without completely humiliating yourself. You don't suppose it's too late to jump out of a window? Ultimately, you sigh in defeat. "Okay, fine. Maybe I watched it a few times."

"A few?"

You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms in defiance at the unsolicited endless interrogation. "More than a few."

"How many more?"

You want to strangle him, and not in the sexy way. "You’re being annoying."

"Come on." His voice has dropped slightly lower, and there's something almost akin to teasing in it. "I told you about the marriage proposals. Fair's fair."

You mutter a profanity under your breath, groaning. "Fine. I watched it a lot. Happy?"

"No. We’re getting there, though. Why?"

"Why what?"

Armin’s glee sharpens into something ravenous, a flicker of desperation lurking beneath his carefree demeanour—like he’s itching for you to say exactly what he needs. "Why did you watch it seventy-seven times?"

Your lungs feel too tight, too exposed. "Because..."

"Because?"

"Because you looked really good, okay?" The words come out in a rush. "Because watching you talk about literally anything is incredibly attractive, and because that frustrating part where your tongue piercing shows has been tormenting me ever since the video came out."

The silence that follows is eerily deafening. Armin simply stares at you, and you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

"Shit," you grumble, burying your face in your hands. "I'm sorry. That was completely out of line. I know we're friends and I shouldn't have—"

"Hey. Look at me."

The way he asks convinces you to peep through your fingers, reluctant but unable to look away. His expression is attentive and focused—definitely not one of disgust.

"You think I'm attractive?" he questions softly.

"I... yes?"

He blinks, his usual calm shattered by the raw vulnerability in your voice. His fingers tremble, revealing the fierce hope inside that there’s a potential chance that someone sees him as more than the sum of his quirks.  "Even though I'm just a loser who gets excited about obscure paranormal documentaries and spends too much time playing video games?"

"Especially because of that," you admit, having never been more sure of yourself.

His answering smile is slow and devastating. "Good to know."

"Good to know?"

He hums, reaching across the table, and gently pulls your hands away from your face. "I've been wondering if you'd ever see me as more than just your friend who helps you with your homework."

Your brain, without a doubt, malfunctions. "What?"

"Did you really think I started bringing you food and staying up late just because I'm a good friend?"

The words disarm you. You’re trapped between incredulity and the dawning comprehension of what he might be suggesting. "I…"

"And did you think I learned how to play your favourite songs on guitar just because I had time to spare?"

"Y-you said you wanted to practice—"

"And I presume you thought I got this piercing because I was feeling rebellious?"

That stops you short, confusion apparent in the furrow of your brows. "You didn't?"

Armin's grin turns almost predatory. "I got it because I overheard you and Sasha talking about how cool you find them. This was back in October, after you'd been dating that guy with the lip ring."

You feel like a kettle left on the stove too long. "You... what?"

"You said, and I quote, 'There's something about tongue piercings that's beyond exciting.’ Something along the lines of how the person has to be bold enough to get it, but there's the simultaneous insinuation of what they can do with it."

"I’m going to kill myself," you gape at him in horror. "You heard all of that?"

"I was sitting right behind you in the campus coffee shop. You weren’t exactly shy about it." He shifts closer, and you can spot the hint of silver when he speaks, "I made an appointment that very afternoon."

"You got a tongue piercing because of something I said about another guy?"

"I got a tongue piercing because I wanted to be the guy you were talking about."

The confession hangs in the air between you, charged and electric. You stare at him, trying to process this complete change in everything you thought you knew about your friendship. 

"I've been trying to get your attention for months. I was starting to think I'd have to do something drastic."

In spite of being made to face terrifying revelation after revelation, you manage to stutter out a breathless laugh. "More drastic than getting a tongue piercing for me?" 

"I was considering learning to play your favourite video game."

You snort despite yourself. "You hate that game."

He shrugs casually, as if the lengths to which he would go for you knew no bounds. "I know. That's how desperate I was getting."

The atmosphere between you feels tense now, full of possibility and two years of unspoken tension. Armin traces your knuckles and the simple touch sends heat shooting up your arm.

"So," you say, trying to stay as composed as you possibly can. "What happens now?"

"Now," he starts, standing up, "you tell me what exactly you were thinking about during those seventy-seven views."

He's close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look at him, and the unwavering want in the blue of his eyes makes your breath catch. "I was thinking..." you trail off, feeling timid with his attention on you.

"You can do it. Use your words for me?" his voice has gotten rougher, huskier, and it sends delightful shivers down your spine.

"I was thinking about what it would feel like."

"What would feel like?"

"Your piercing. When you..." You gesture vaguely, cheeks burning. Armin's hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "When I what?"

"When you kiss me," you whisper.

"Just kissing?" The question is loaded with underlying intentions, and you shake your head slowly.

"Tell me what else you were thinking about."

"Armin..."

"Please." The plea is hushed but insistent. "I want to know what's been going through your head."

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry as you let go of the entirety of your self-restraint. "I was thinking about what it would feel like on my body. What it would feel like when you use your mouth on me."

His pupils immediately dilate at your words. "Fuck."

"Is that... is that okay?"

Instead of verbally affirming, he leans down and kisses you. It's gentle at first, tentative, but when you react by fisting your hands in his sweater and pulling him closer, he deepens it. The first brush of his tongue against yours has you gasping, and when you feel the metal of his piercing, it sends intoxicating pleasure shooting through you.

You break apart, breathing heavily, and Armin rests his forehead against yours.

"How was that?" he asks earnestly, voice raspy.

"Good," you breathe. "Really good."

His smile is full of care but there's primal desire behind it. "And the piercing?"

"Want more of it."

He brushes his thumb across your lip again. Truth be told, it’s plain torture. "You know, we're in public right now."

Every wall you built is crumbling under the weight of him, and all you can do is let it. "I know."

"Anyone could walk by and see us."

"I know."

"And you don't care?"

You drag your hand up his thigh, stopping just shy of where he clearly wants it, "Not even a little bit."

He kisses you again, harder this time, and you can't help the soft moan that escapes when his tongue meets yours in another dance of display. The sound seems to flip a switch in him, because his hands are tangling in your hair and he's pressing you back against your chair.

"God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he murmurs against your lips.

"Tell me ‘Min."

"Since freshman year. Since that first day in psych class when you argued with Professor Smith about the ethics of behavioural modification."

You draw away just barely, shaking under the intimacy of his declaration. "That long?"

"That long." He doesn’t think twice before trailing his teeth along your jaw, and when the metal of his piercing digs into your flushed skin, you whimper needily. 

"You were so assertive, so brilliant. I was completely and utterly gone."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you were dating that business major asshole, and then when you broke up, we became friends,” he hesitantly halts his ministrations to flutter his eyelashes at you, “I-I didn't want to ruin it." 

Good heavens, you didn’t stand a chance from the beginning.

"But then you kept looking at me like... like you wanted me too, and I started hoping..."

"I did want you. I do want you." The admission comes out whinier than intended, but you can’t bring yourself to be bothered at this point. "So much."

His hands tighten in your hair. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You’re unaware of how many minutes pass as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours, and the way he tastes like mint and something uniquely him. You dig your nails lightly into his sides, claiming him in an act of fervent possession. His breaths mingle with yours and the world outside your tangled bodies fades until there’s nothing but lust burning between you. By the end of it, your chests rise and fall in tandem.

"We should probably get out of here," he mumbles, peeking around the library.

Craving Armin has left you dazed, vision glassy as you attempt to make sense of your surroundings. "Right. Um, your place or mine?"

He pecks your nose, full of affection, tenderly guiding you. "Mine. My roommate's gone for the weekend."

You start gathering your things with shaky hands, hyperaware of the way Armin is observing you. When you bend over to pick up your bag, you hear his sharp intake of breath.

"Something wrong?" you ask innocently.

"N-nothing," he mutters, skittishly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

The walk to his dorm feels like it takes forever, full of stolen glances and the kind of anticipation that makes your skin feel too tight. When you reach his room, he fumbles with his keys for a moment—so fucking cute—before getting the door open.

You haven’t had a lot of time this semester to crash at his dorm—neat and organised, with anime posters on the walls and stacks of books and manga everywhere. But you barely have time to take it in before he's pressing you against the closed door, urgency lacing his actions.

This time, there's nothing apprehensive about it. His hands are everywhere—your waist, your back, squeezing your ass—and when you arch against him, he makes a low sound of approval.

"You taste so good," he shudders against you. "Everything I’ve imagined and so much more."

"You imagined this?"

"Every night for two years." His mouth moves to your neck, nibbling along your throat. "What you'd look like, what you'd sound like when I made you come."

The words send heat pooling low in your belly, prompting you to press your thighs together instinctively. "Fuck, don’t say shit like that.”

"Why not? I’ve been longing for you. All of you," he whispers, pulling back to look at you with dark, lidded eyes. "You’re not getting away until I’ve had my fill."

It would be an understatement to say that you hadn’t foreseen this when you woke up today. That you'd be spending hours with your legs over Armin's shoulders, forgetting your own name; the compassionate, stammering genius the internet drooled over. Too bad he’s not on the market. It would be a treat if his fans could see him like this—flushed and breathless, fingers gripping your hips like he’d die without you. Armin Arlert, golden boy of TikTok, practically begging to let him ruin you.

You grow dizzy at the promise in his voice. "Please."

He lets his hand trail lower, indecently tranquil, and just as you think he’ll do something reckless—he pauses, smirking wickedly.

"Want to find out what this piercing really feels like when I eat you out?"

[2cupids]

warnings. popular!reader, oral (m. receiving), tittyfucking, tiny bit of degradation, cüm eating. mdni (17+).

wc. 1.9k… read part 1 here!

weeks had passed and a new semester had begun since that encounter with nerd!choso and it was a nearly forgotten memory in your head.

but for choso?

he thought about it everyday. it was like a driving force that helped him push through each day and he could only dream of getting so lucky again.

so the moment he saw you walking towards him as class was being dismissed, your ridiculously short skirt swaying as you moved, he knew his prayers had been answered.

“you busy? i need you to write that research paper for me.” you ask nonchalantly as you swipe the wand of your lipgloss across your bottom lip, reapplying it.

choso’s in a trance as he watches you put your gloss on your pretty lips. you were so alluring, so gorgeous. seconds pass and still no answer. you sigh and roll your eyes, looking down at choso and making contact with his bright eyes as he stares at you.

“well?” you furrow your eyebrows as your patience grows shorter and the nerdy boy has yet to answer. choso’s heart flutters at your harsh tone and he swallows the lump in his throat before he finally answers.

“n-no, i’m not busy. i could have it done by saturday.”

your hardened expression instantly softens at his words and you give him one of your sweet smiles. “good. i’ll pick it up on sunday.”

as you turn to walk away, choso stops you. “wait! um.. wh-what do i get for helping you?” choso asks quietly, averting his eyes down to look at your legs. he can’t look you in the eyes.

you turn to him, eyeing him up and down. “and who the hell are you to ask me that?” you smirk at him, but your tone is condescending. you’re offended he would even ask that. “you don’t need to worry about that, i’ll figure out it. just get my paper done.”

and with that, you’re walking up the stairs of the lecture hall and exiting the classroom. choso sits there for a moment, replaying what just happened and taking a moment to collect himself. he finally stands up and adjusts his pants, pulling his hoodie down to cover his boner before he leaves.

the days seem to pass by much slower than he would’ve liked until the long awaited day finally rolls around. choso’s mind is flooded with the multiple different scenarios that could play out, but hell, he would take anything you give him. and that’s only if you decide to pay him back for his kindness again this time.

he’s lost in thought when there’s a knock at his door and he rushes to open it, letting you in. his hands immediately reach for the paper and you quickly skim through it, slipping it inside your bag and setting it down on his desk.

“what should i do with you?..” you cross your arms and let your eyes trail down his figure before letting them rest on his face again. “i could make you put your mouth to use. i want my pussy ate, but i know someone like you doesn’t know how to eat it. and i don’t feel like teaching you either. just go sit on the bed.”

you wonder what you can do and that’s when an idea comes to you. you walk over to him and kneel down in front of him. “so where’s your bottle of lube?”

choso’s taken back. how did you know he even had some? probably just a lucky guess, but then again you are much more experienced than him. “i..um.. it’s in the desk drawer over there. the first one.”

a faint smirk plays on your lips as you roll your eyes and stand up to go get the lube. you pull your top off and throw it on the floor, revealing the lacy pattern of your bra underneath as you sit back on your knees in front of choso again. your eyes catch sight of choso’s face and you laugh, it doesn’t take much to get him worked up. being the tease you are, you give your boobs a nice squeeze. why not give him a little show?

your hands rub his thighs, slowly making their way up to unbuckle his belt and take off his pants. choso eagerly lifts his hips to let you pull his pants and boxers down his legs, and it’s laughable how excited he is.

you take his cock in your hand, quietly admiring the length and girth. it’s almost like he grew from the last time you saw him. you always heard about how nerds like him were packing, but you just thought it was a joke.. that was til choso proved you wrong of course.

his clear arousal leaks from the head of his dick and you can’t pull yourself to look away. without another thought, you lean forward and stick your tongue out, licking the precum that slid down his shaft and up towards the tip, swiping your tongue across the opening, collecting the salty liquid straight from the source. your pretty lips wrap around it and your cheeks hollow slightly while you circle your tongue around his tip.

choso groans and instinctively bucks his hips up. never did he think the guys he saw in porn were exaggerating when he watched a girl give them head, but he never expected it to feel so good. or maybe it just feels so good because the pretty girl he’s crushing on is the one who’s on her knees doing it to him.

you pull off his cock and lick the corners of your mouth as you eye the glistening head of his dick. your hands reach back and undo the clasps of your bra, letting your heavy breasts free as you pull the bra straps down.

choso’s eyes are locked on your every move and his lips part slightly as he watches you reveal your breasts to him. he’s never seen something so beautiful in his life.

“… so pretty.” he whispers more to himself, but it’s loud enough for you to hear.

the corner of your lips curl yet again as you glance up at him. “of course they are, dummy.”

you toss your bra onto the bed and reach for the bottle of lubricant, spreading the lube along his dick before taking one breast in each hand and nestling choso’s cock in between your chest.

choso nearly melts from the warmth that your boobs bring, then you start moving them up and down his length and it feels like heaven.

like the first encounter with you did. a pretty girl with her tits wrapped around his cock.. damn. not to mention the occasional moments when your tongue comes out and flicks over the opening. he can’t help but feel truly blessed.

you can’t miss the way choso’s face twists in pleasure with each drag of your breasts up and down his length even if you wanted to. the soft pants and groans that leave his parted lips have caused a sticky mess in between your legs, making your panties latch onto your wet cunt.

it’s not a surprise to you that choso busts quick, someone like him obviously would. his face is a dead giveaway, and so are his mannerisms and how his knuckles are white from gripping his comforter. he came fast the last time and in a way you find it oddly charming how quickly this nerd cums. what does surprise you though, is when he opens his mouth and starts to beg.

“please… please. can i t-touch them?” he whimpers, the desperation in his voice is clear. “i-i won’t ask for anything else.. just please.”

he looks down through his heavy eyelids, silently pleading with you, and you’ve got to admit that it’s hot. you bite your lip and make a small noise of approval, stopping what you’re doing and reaching for his hands to put them on your breasts.

his large hands squeeze the soft flesh, really feeling and savoring what it’s like to have a nice pair of tits beneath his palms before his hips jerk as he holds your boobs, fucking your chest.

“ohhh.” choso whines, “can i please cum? need... need your permission.” he doesn’t care how vulnerable he sounds, he just wants to hear you give him your approval.

and here you are again, finding yourself so turned on by his words that they’ve got your pussy clenching. you can’t let on that you’re having a change of heart towards him though, so you scoff. “what the fuck are you asking me for you fucking freak? of course you can.”

leaning back on your hands slightly so you have a better view, you watch choso start to come undone right in front of you. his eyes are squeezed shut and his mouth hangs open, letting the whiniest sounds tumble out of his mouth that you’ve ever heard from a man. you can feel his trembling body come to pause as he halts his movements, a second later your tits are covered in his hot cum.

his limp body continues to lay against the bed and when he opens his eyes again, he finds you still on your knees in front of him. one of your hands is holding your chest while you pick up some of his cum on your finger with your other hand, sucking it into your mouth.

you feel his eyes on you and you repeat the action with a grin. his heart skips a beat and he fears you might be the death of him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

after getting off the floor and back on your feet you grab a few tissues and wipe your face and tits before you make a random, split second decision. “keep the bra.”

choso almost chokes when he hears you say that. he opens his mouth to protest but he decides against it, knowing that whatever sharp response you say will get him hard again. you rummage around your bag before you pull out the spare bra you always carry. after all, a girl like you never knows what trouble she might get herself into.

choso watches you fix your appearance in the mirror and you catch his eye in the reflection, holding his gaze. “you know.. you’d look fine as hell if you got rid of those things.”

what ‘things’ do you mean?

choso is very obviously confused and you walk over to him with a smirk, yanking his glasses off his face and waving them in front of him. “these things, dumbass.”

you move closer to him and stand in between his legs, running a hand through his thick, dark locks. “you might actually be able to pick up bitches then.”

for some reason, you find yourself standing there staring at him for longer than you’d like to. you eventually let go of his hair and sigh, taking a step back and walking over to grab your bag, preparing to leave.

“what a shame.” you say quietly as you open the door to leave, and you truly do think it is a shame.

you’ll never admit it out loud, but maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to find that stupid little loser cute.

taglist — @cheezemanz @tojicvmslut

cleo’s note — i know some people are probably gonna ask for a part 3, but idk if i’ll keep this going so don’t get your hopes up 🥲. thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated!

[sakurakuna]

NERD GOJO WHO'S YOUR TA!

synopsis. TA nerd gojo who has a crush on you and gets assigned as your tutor.

content. 18+ explicit content. foul language. public sex. dom/sub undertones. inappropriate relationship. unprotected sex. virginity loss. feminine description used.

note. umm first time posting... enjoy!!

nerdjo, who works as the TA in your chemistry class, and due to your lackluster performance so far in the semester, he gets assigned as your tutor. He's a total nerd whose interests fall outside the typical college student's. Despite that, you still find him to be so cute. He's a little shy and on the quieter side, and his confidence mostly comes through when he's teaching."

nerdjo, who always comes to class early and helps set up labs before the students flock in, is dressed in a sharp white lab coat that pairs well with his shaggy white hair. He always wears his framed glasses, which he constantly has to push up because his head is shoved in some book that you wouldn't even know where to begin to understand.

nerdjo, who didn't even realize that you were no longer listening to his explanation on today's lecture and instead was fantasizing about fucking him in the middle of the dimly lit library that you were studying in. Chemistry was long gone from your mind, and all you could think about was how you desperately craved to see how he’d look as he struggled not cum inside of you.

nerdjo, who only realizes your mind is elsewhere when he glances into your eyes and can tell you didn’t retain a single word he said for the past 20 minutes...at least. He instead notices you're looking at him in a way he can't recall any girl has looked at him before, you were practically staring into his soul with your lust-filled eyes.

nerdjo, who knows it's wrong because he’s your TA but can't help but shamelessly take a glance down at your very low-cut top that pushes the soft skin of your chest together and makes it appear as if you're spilling out of it. He nearly wants to drool at how soft they look under the confines of the fabric and how they would probably fill his hands as he takes your nipples into his—

You caught his wandering eyes shamelessly traveling down your body before quickly lowering his gaze to the book in front of him. You could see his blood rush to his cheeks and create a rosy blush that exposed his embarrassment. His shyness only turned you on even more. Just thinking of being able to ruin your nerdy TA’s innocence made the space between your thighs grow even more wet.

nerdjo, who was now feeling the consequences of his perverted actions and could feel himself growing hard under the table. To try and distract himself, he started rambling on about the lecture again, this time stumbling on his words a concerning amount of times over topics you know he would be able to teach in sleep.

nerdjo, who knew the feelings flooding his body were so wrong. He shouldn't be getting so aroused around one of his students, He shouldn't be noticing how pretty she is, and he really shouldn't be wondering if the color of the bra strap peeking out the side of her top matches her panties! But as much as he tried he just couldn't force the thoughts out of his mind. The once-cold library felt so much warmer, and the space between your chairs didn't feel like enough.

“are you feeling okay? You seem kind of hot,” you asked, playing concerned. You took the opportunity to put your hand on his thigh, causing his leg to almost twitch immediately.

“oh-no m-me? I’m fine!" he stumbles on his words, and your hand continues to brush back and forward his pants, each time subtly getting a little too close to where you shouldn't.

nerdjo, who nearly jumps at the feeling of your getting close to his inner thigh and tries his best to play it off as if you’re not almost massaging his soon-to-be raging bulge in the middle of this empty library right now.

He nervously pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he feels your hand get closer and closer to a place no girl had touched before. He was at a loss for words, barely able to bring himself to protest your actions as his brain was slowly turning to mush the more he felt your touch.

“but you don’t look fine,” you say, feigning worry. You take his cheek in your palm and turn his flustered-horny face to make eye contact with your lust-filled ones.

“I think I know just how to help you though,” you say as you finally move your other hand right on his crotch and begin to massage his painfully hard dick through his pants. He audibly gasps in surprise at your forwardness and can't stop the immediate sigh of pleasure that escapes his lips.

"f-fuck this is so wrong- i-i'm your TA we can't-." He tries to remind you while clearly fighting to hold back his moan and making no actual move to stop your hand.

"But it feels good, doesn't it? you like the way I touch you? You ask while dipping your hand below the waistband of his pants, making the only barrier between you his boxers as you apply even more pressure to his aching cock. You could feel the pre-cum surrounding his tip, already wetting your hand through the fabric. Your voice was so sweet to his ears, paired with the feeling of your hand; it was all too much for him, and he could no longer continue his pathetic fight against you. All he could do was shamelessly nod through his moans.

"You've been such a good boy helping me... It's time you let me help you."

━━━━━━━━━━━━

The once quiet library was now filled with the obscene sounds of gojo's plunging his cock in and out of your poor sopping-wet pussy without holding back in the slightest.

You were the least bit prepared for your nerdy TA's to have so much length and thickness hidden beneath his pants. He was giving you the biggest stretch of your life as he fucked you on the library table with no mercy. It's like his hips had a mind of their own as soon as he sunk into the warmness of your core. And it didn't help that your tight walls were sucking him back in with every stroke, accompanied by squelching sounds of your pussy, driving him even more crazy.

""f-fuckk omggg, this feels so good," he whined as he tilted his head back with his eyes practically glued shut. He couldn't bear to look at you as he felt like he would explode any minute if he made eye contact with you while you were in such an unholy position.

"cmon baby, look at me, look at all the mess you made," you beg him as a loud moan escapes your lips. His dick was hitting places you didn't even know could be reached, and even though there was a slight pain that came with his thickness you found it to be pleasurable.

It made you crave to feel every inch of him inside you, so you lifted your leg onto the table, making his hips press closer into you and giving him a new angle that had him nearly about to shed a tear. He slows down his pace, barely being able to handle the feeling of his fat tip kissing your cervix over and over again. (you couldn't really blame him, it was his first time getting his dick wet.)

"I'm so sorry baby omg m'sorry- if I look I won't last!" he whined apologetically. This position had him stars and the only way to stop himself from filling you up was to try to slow down. He gave you slow but deep strokes that had you feeling every vein of his cock throbbing inside you. He was trying his best not to come quick so he could enjoy the feeling of your pussy longer, he was already so attached. He reached in front of you and took a handful of your chest, squeezing the soft skin of your breast before gently toying with your nipples.

As good as it felt you weren't having any of it. "mm-but don't you want to come inside me?" your question forces his eyes wide open. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, a girl as pretty as you were going to let him cum inside??

"ahh- god, I must dreaming right now." he babbled as his brows scrunched together. 'Such a nerd,' you thought to yourself. Gojo was trying his best not to focus too hard on the feeling of you sucking him in so he could avoid embarrassing himself by cumming on the spot. His movements became more sloppy, which let you know he couldn't hold on for much longer.

"Its not a dream baby- please I need you to fill me up!" you moan out feeling his dick contnously brush against your spot. "I need it all inside me please." you begged while looking into his glossy eyes.

That was his last straw. Without even thinking if you could physically handle it, he quickened his pace, and you nearly choked in surprise at how fast he was fucking you. The library was filled with your sultry sounds harmonizing together. His feverish eyes gazed into yours with desperation. you knew he was close and so were you.

"oh my godd m'cummingg" you cried out to him. your cunt pulsated around his cock, liquid streams gushing out, splashing onto his lower abs and thighs. Your body trembles as your orgasm continues, and he continues to fuck you through it and chase his own. The sight of your orgasm only pushes Gojo completely over the edge.

"baby I'm gonna cumm- baby please, please." he didn't even know what he was begging for at this point. His mind was so far gone that all he could think about was coming inside of you. "It's okay baby let go-"

You could feel his strokes get more and more sloppy and his thighs tremble, his pretty blue eyes rolled back as he finally emptied his aching cum-filled balls into your pussy. You couldn't help but moan as you felt the warmth fill you up. There was so much cum spilling out that it overflowed from within you and traveled down between your legs.

Your bodies succumb to the exhaustion and collapse together on the table. "This must be what heaven feels like," he says breathlessly with only feelings of euphoria running through his brain.

'such a nerd' you smile to yourself.

nerdjo has my heart

[cutehoons02]

Your favorite hot nerdy boy!

*pairing: hot nerdy idol Heeseung x writer Girl

*trope: brother best friend

*synopsis: What would happen if your crush from 4 years now found out that you wrote an extremely detailed one-shot and a little spicy with him as the protagonist? A disaster! Having a crush on Lee Heeseung was exhausting for you both because he was an idol, but also because he was your brother’s best friend and also because he was always surrounded by beautiful idols and fans who would do anything to attract his attention.

*tags: Lots of tension, Heeseung loves to tease the protagonist, slight wrinkling, possessive, jealous, both the protagonist and Heeseung are perverts, false shyness, a lot of kisses, fluff, masturbation (f. receives) unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) +18, reading of spicy scenes, fake innocent girl,pet names (good girl, princess,baby) (Hee)

(English is not my native language)

6.8k (🍬)

Sunghoon pt Jake pt

Heeseung was your favorite idol. He was your brother’s best friend, and to your bad luck, you had seen him debut and grow up with your brother. Every week, you had to see him on your social media, in the subway ads, on TV, and even when your brother made you some video calls. Lee Heeseung was always there.

That night, almost all the members had gone out to an event, and there was only Sunghoon with his girlfriend, Heeseung, and you, who had been visiting T/L Sunghoon’s girlfriend. Now they were spread out on the couch watching a movie, and you did not want to be a comfortable third.

You didn’t know exactly when it started. It was a silent crush, a little secret you had kept for years. You grew up watching Heeseung become more confident and brilliant on stage, always surrounded by beautiful and charismatic idols. Yet, every time you watched him in his natural habitat: the gaming chair, the messy hair, the focused expression while he played, your heart beat a little faster.

That night was no different. Sitting on the couch behind his you stared at Heeseung squatting in front of the computer, headphones that seemed to be glued to your ears, fingers flying on the keyboard as if he was orchestrating a digital symphony. On the table next to him, a tower of empty ramen bowls told the story of another intense gaming afternoon. Your gaze shifted from the figure of Heeseung to the computer screen, where digital characters moved frantically. He was immersed in the game, his hands dancing on the keys with an almost hypnotic precision. You stayed enchanted for minutes, even forgetting to scramble on the phone.

You didn’t understand what was so striking about Heeseung. It wasn’t just his appearance, although he was objectively charming. It was the contrast. The way he went from being the self-confident idol on stage to a simple and shy boy who got lost in video games and ramen.

«Do you like the show?» asked Heeseung suddenly, without taking his eyes off the screen.

You jumped, surprised by her statement. "W-what?"

Heeseung turned around just enough to show you his mischievous smile. «You were staring at me, princess. If you want to learn how to play, I can teach you, you know?»

You blushed and looked down at your phone, pretending to be busy. "I was just curious. It’s not that I’m interested in it so much."

«Mh-hm,» he did, raising an eyebrow as he returned to focus on the game.

Some notifications invade your field of view on the phone and you already know from which app they came: Tumblr. One evening months ago you downloaded the app out of curiosity and found #Enhypen x reader and there were thousands of one-shots on each member including your brother! , but as you were running you just like Heeseung’s and after weeks of reading stories about him you had the unhealthy idea to write one about him and published it on Tumblr under a pseudonym.

It was born as an innocent outburst, but by the time the story went viral - with hundreds of comments, reblogs, and likes you had experienced an explosive combination of embarrassment and pride. But no one knew that you were the author.

You heard Sunghoon’s girlfriend call you from the living room and went to her without taking your phone with you and this thing would have had repercussions that you didn’t even imagine or maybe, yes, only in your dreams.

You got up from the couch, stretching slightly. "I’m going to T/L. I’ll be right back."

Heeseung nodded distractedly, his eyes still glued to the computer screen as he dodged some virtual opponent’s attacks. He didn’t even notice that you had left your phone by the keyboard, with the screen still on; only when a notification sound caught his attention did he look down. The small blue Tumblr logo was shining in the top corner.

Tumblr?

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, more amused than anything. He knew that by now most girls read fanfiction about the famous one-shot, but that you even had an active profile that intrigued him a lot.

Another notification sound. A like. A comment.

"Wow, this story is fantastic! It’s so detailed! It seems the author knows Heeseung really well."

Heeseung slightly opened his eyes. Wait a minute. Like? Comments?

He looked at the screen and found the original post. And then he saw it.

Title: "Your favorite hot nerdy boy."

For a few seconds, he just stared at it, struggling between the urge to laugh and the one to feel vaguely offended. Nerdy. Pervy. Gamer Boy?

The smile spread over his lips as he opened the post. And when he started to read, he had to hold back a laugh.

The plot was simple, but so detailed that he had some doubts about your level of observation.

The story described him in his room, exactly as he was at that moment: sitting at his desk, immersed in video games, with a ramen tower next to it and his glasses slightly lowered over his nose. In the story, the protagonist entered the room timidly, finding him playing, and he, instead of ignoring her like any obsessed gamer, lured her to himself with a smile and then started provoking her.

-You wanna play with me, baby?" had said the pervy nerdy Heeseung, with a mischievous smile, before taking her wrist and pulling it on his knees. -

Heeseung covered his mouth with one hand so he wouldn’t burst out laughing. Baby. Knees. Nerdy. Pervy. What the hell was he reading?

He leaned a little more on the phone, scrolling through the comments.

"This is the version of Heeseung we needed, thank you for this pearl."

"Please tell us you will write a pt2l! We need more nerdy Hee ruining lives with her video games and dangerously sexy tone."

"Wait... why does everything seem so accurate? 🤨 Are you sure you don’t really know him?"

Well, that was the comment that really made him laugh. Because yes, you did know him. Maybe a little too well.

He let himself go on the chair, crossing his arms. So the small and innocent Y/n was not so innocent, eh? Not only did he read these stories, but he wrote them. And not on any generic idol. About him.

He heard footsteps approaching and just got around to putting the phone back where it was before you came in.

"What are you laughing at?" you asked, looking at him with suspicion as you sat down on the couch again.

Heeseung turned slowly to you, with a smirk on his face and eyes shining with fun. «Oh, nothing. I was just thinking...» He leaned against the back, studying it carefully. «Do you like gamers, Y/n?»

You stared at him for a second, confused. "What?"

He crossed his arms, leaning slightly forward. «I mean... Do you find charming the boys who spend nights playing, with glasses on the nose and a little bit of a husky voice for too many hours at the microphone? Maybe those who have a bit of a nerd side, but also a little... pervy?»

Your heart stopped. No. No, no, no.

Heeseung looked at you with that damned cunning smile, and suddenly you knew. Had he read? Did you look where you had placed the phone and it was upside down so he had rummaged in YOUR phone?

"Oh my God," you murmured, putting your hand to your mouth.

He chuckled. «No, no, go on. I’m curious. What happens next in the story? The nerdy pervy Heeseung keeps playing or...» He leaned over to you, lowering his voice. «Does he decide to have fun in another way?»

You jumped up, cheeks burning. "You read, didn’t you?! Oh my God, Heeseung!"

He moved before you could hit him with a pillow, laughing openly. «Hey, it’s not my fault that someone left their phone right in front of me. You shouldn’t have written such a good story.»

You were mortified. Destroyed. Could the floor open and swallow you, please?

Heeseung stood up, still with that damned amused air. «You know, if you wanted to write about me so much, you could have asked me for some more details.»

"I’m going to kill you," you hissed.

He laughed again, raising his hands in surrender, you wanted to leave that room and never see him again and you started to get up but Hee looked at you with a look. «Don’t go away Y/n, it’s not over for you!»

You sat on the couch, hands nervously entwined as you tried to concentrate on Heeseung’s computer screen.

The game that obsessed him so much seemed to her a jumble of colors, explosions, and strategies you didn’t understand, but at that moment the problem was not that.

The problem was that you couldn’t face him anymore and the most brazing thing was that you knew he was enjoying every second of your awkward expression, and the tense silence between you two was proof of how much he was having fun.

«Strange, eh?» broke the silence Heeseung, with his voice steeped in amusement.

"W-what?" He turned on the chair, leaning his elbow on the armrest and looking at you with glittering eyes. «You. You are always so sweet and innocent with everyone, the little sister that everyone wants to protect...» He took a dramatic pause before adding with a smirk: «...and then write one-shot hot about me?»

You’d sink into the couch, your face on fire. "They weren’t that hot and then I wrote one, not more!"

Heeseung burst out laughing. «Ah, so you admit that you wrote it?»

You opened your eyes wide, realizing the trap she fell into. "No! I mean, yes! I mean... Ugh!" You covered your face with your hands. "You shouldn’t have read it.»

«And I did but not quite,» he said, in a tone all too satisfied. Then he came slightly closer, folding his arms on the table and leaning towards you. «You know, I could tell your brother.»

You felt a shiver of panic across your back. "You wouldn’t do that."

«Oh, I would,» he replied, holding a grin. «I can already imagine the scene: 'Hey, did you know that your adorable little sister spends her time writing stories in which I’m a pervy nerd boy?'»

"I hate you," you hissed, glaring at him with your gaze.

«No, you don’t hate me», replied Heeseung, resting his chin on one hand. "In fact, according to Tumblr, you love me and have a little obsession with me!» You threw a pillow in his direction, but he blocked it with a laugh. «All right, all right. We can make a deal.»

"What kind of deal?" you said in a low voice because you already knew that it would not bring anything good

Heeseung leaned back into the chair, enjoying the moment. «If you don’t want me to tell your brother... you must read it out loud.»

You were speechless. "You’re joking."

He shook his head, the smile that did not seem to fade. «Not at all. I want to hear with what tone you described me.»

"No, absolutely not," you said, shaking your head in panic.

Heeseung shrugged. «All right. Then I’ll call your brother.»

You stepped up, reaching out to stop him. "Wait! You’re a real idiot."

«And you are indeed a secret writer,» he replied with a grin.

You had two choices: to die of shame in front of him, or to die of shame in front of your brother and probably all the members of Enhypen.

"Okay," you murmured. "I’ll read it."

«Perfect», said Heeseung, chin-leaning on his hands, ready to enjoy the show. «I want to hear every word, from first to last.»

You never thought it would end this way, yet here you are, forced to read your own one-shot hot... in front of the guy who inspired it.

You wanted to disappear. You wanted to take the phone, erase everything, run away, and forget forever that that night ever happened. But you knew that Heeseung wouldn’t let him.

He was still sitting in his gaming chair, phone in hand, scrolling through the words of his one-shot as if it were the best novel he had ever read.

«So... », he said with a small smile as he glanced at her. «Where had I been?»

You came close, trying to rip the phone out of his hands. "Give it back! You didn’t have to read it!"

Heeseung easily leaned aside, lifting his arm and moving the phone out of her reach. «Oh no, princess. Now I want to know how it goes and if you don’t read it I’ll read it for you, you promised otherwise I’ll tell everyone your dirty secret.»

He opened the text and, with a low and amusing voice, began to read aloud.

"He was sitting in his gaming chair, headphones around his neck and the controller still firmly in his hands. But when she came closer, he dropped it on the desk, taking it for life and making it sit on its legs..."

"Heeseung"

He did not stop. With an almost theatrical intonation, he continued:

"As he played, his hands slowly slid on her back, fingers tracing invisible paths across the thin skin of her shirt. It was a distracted gesture, but at the same time so intimate that you can’t breathe..."

Heeseung put down his phone and looked at her with a clever smile. «Interesting.»

"Enough, okay? You’ve had your fun," you mumbled, trying to grab the phone again.

But Heeseung stopped you, gripping your wrist gently. «Wait,» he said, in that low tone he used when he wanted to put you in trouble. «Have you ever been on a boy’s lap while playing?»

"What?!" you pulled your arm back as if his skin was scorched. "Of course not!"

He leaned against the back of the chair, clapping his hand on his thigh. «Do you want to try?» felt your face become glowing. "You are completely crazy."

«It’s not true», said Heeseung, laughing quietly. «I say only that it would be a shame to write these things and not test them in reality.»

Clenched your fists, trying to think of a clever answer, but the problem was that... You couldn’t say no. Because yes, the idea made you die of embarrassment, but it was also what you had written. Why did you write it, if you never thought you wanted it?

Heeseung looked at you, studying you as if he could read your mind. Then he tilted his head to one side. «Then?» close your lips. "No."

He didn’t answer immediately, but he glanced at you, looking at the way you were holding your phone in your hands, and how your breath was slightly more irregular. Then he smiled. «Lie.»

He made you think. "I’m not lying!"

«Mh-mh» he did, unconvinced. Then he reached out to you with a hand, without stopping looking into your eyes. «Come here, little writer.»

You stood still for a few seconds, torn between rationality and desire. You knew it was a bad idea. You knew that if you got close, you wouldn’t be able to pretend this was a game anymore; but in the end... you took a step forward. Then another one.

Heeseung took your hand and gently pulled you towards himself, guiding you to sit on his legs.

You held your breath. You felt the warmth of his body, the solidity of his arms that held you still. He settled down better in the chair as if it were the most normal thing in the world. «See? It’s not so strange.»

you did not answer, too busy to hear the beat of your heart go crazy. Heeseung came back to get the controller, turning on the game screen. With naturalness, without even thinking too much, he let a hand slide on your back, caressing it slowly, exactly as in the story and you shudder.

He smiled, he had noticed. «Do you like it?» he asked, his voice slightly lower.

You looked down, biting your lip. "Yes," you admitted, barely a whisper. Heeseung made a little satisfied sound, returning to focus on the screen and at the same time continued playing as if nothing had happened. But his smile said otherwise. because he wanted to drive you crazy and the game had just begun.

The silence in the room was broken only by the sound of the keys pressed and the ticking of the mouse while Heeseung, with one hand, continued to play. The other one, instead, was slipping lazily down your back, making little circles on your skin through the thin fabric of the mesh.

You were completely stiff in his arms, his cheeks burning, his heart beating so fast that you could hear it in your ears.

«Mh?» he said, as if nothing had happened, the warm breath that touched your neck. «You are so rigid. You must relax.»

"How can I relax if"

«Shhh,» he interrupted you, and with a slow movement, he took back his phone. «Where were we? Ah, right.» He cleared his voice, then began to read aloud:

"As the sound of the game continued to fill the room, he let slip a hand under her shirt, touching the warm skin on her side. Then he bent down and left a soft kiss on his neck, feeling the body shivering under his touch."

You stared and tried to get away, but Heeseung held you with a gentle but firm grip.

«Too?» he asked, with a funny smirk.

"Yes! Too much!" you exclaimed with your face on fire.

But Heeseung didn’t seem to want to stop. Instead, he slowly lowered the phone, tilted his head, and let his lips touch the sensitive skin on your neck just as described in the story.

You held your breath, a shiver passed through your back. "Heeseung... what are you doing?"

«I’m just following the plot,» he muttered against your skin, his voice slightly amused but also lower than usual.

Then, without saying anything else, he let his hand slip under the edge of your shirt, hot fingers touching your side, just like in history.

You wanted to disappear, you wanted to protest, but your body was betraying every single rational thought.

"Hee... I will..."

He stopped for a moment, his lips still close to his skin. «Do you want me to stop?» you stood in silence for a few seconds, desperately trying to find an answer.

Then, with a little voice, you admitted: "...No."

Heeseung smiled at your skin. «Good girl.»

The room was now immersed in an electric voltage. The sound of the game was now a distant memory; Heeseung had turned off everything, but not his fun.

With the phone in his hand, he kept reading the one-shot as his fingers slowly traced your warm skin under the shirt.

«Let’s see what happens next,» he muttered, in a low and slightly husky voice. «Ah, here we are...» 'He took her by the hips and turned her, placing her on top of him in a horseshoe. She stood on him, with her heart beating fast, while he grabbed her face and kissed her with arrogance as if he did not want to let her escape.'

Heeseung paused for a moment, looking down at her with a dangerous smirk. «Interesting. What do you say, princess? Should we try this part too?»

You opened your eyes wide, the body stretching out instantly. "Heeseung, no, it’s an unreal thing, I wrote it so much at random. Let’s finish here."

He chuckled softly, but there was something in his eyes that looked slightly darker than usual. «You always say no, but you don’t move.»

Before you could argue, you felt his hands gently clench your hips. In a moment, with almost humiliating ease, Heeseung lifted you slightly and turned you around, putting you on his horse.

You could feel Heeseung’s warm breath against your face, the way his hands were still resting on his hips, holding you there as if he wasn’t going to let go.

Your heart was beating like a drum. "H-Heeseung..."

He bowed his head, looking at you with those dark eyes that seemed to pierce her soul. «Tell me something, Y/n.» His voice was low and calm but with a shimmering edge of authority. «How long have you had a crush on me?»

You felt the heat explode in your face. No. No, you couldn’t admit it.

You clear your throat, trying to take a more confident tone. "Me? For you?" You laughed nervously, turning away. "Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t have a crush on you."

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, his lips curled into a sort of predatory grin. «No?»

"No," you said, crossing your arms to give you a sense of security. "And anyway... I may have also written a one-shot about the other members. You’re not as special as you think you are!"

For a moment, Heeseung said nothing. But then, without warning, your Tumblr profile started to scroll and after a few seconds, the screen lit up with one unique, unambiguous truth and put it in front of you.

There was only one shot on his profile. That.

Over 4,000 likes. Hundreds of comments. All about him.

Heeseung looked at you, and this time his smile was different. Darker. More confident. More... arrogant.

«Here I see only a one-shot and it’s on me, eh?» whispered, the voice steeped in satisfaction.

You wanted to die of embarrassment. "It was an accident," you murmured weakly.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. «Don’t lie, princess». Then, without giving you time to react, he grabbed your chin with one hand and forced you to look him in the eye, and for a moment the world stopped.

And then, Heeseung kissed you.

The kiss was not gentle, it wasn’t sweet. It was pure domination. Arrogant. Self-confident. His lips moved on yours with a confidence that made you tremble, as if he wanted to show you exactly who was in control at the time.

You blew when you heard his tongue asking for access to yours and you instinctively grabbed the collar of his sweater to find a grip. He squeezed you a little more by the hips, holding you firmly above him as his mouth explored yours with an exasperating slowness.

When he parted, he had a smug smile on her lips. «Tell me again that you don’t have a crush on me.» you tried to recover, the irregular breath. "I..." But Heeseung shook his head. «No, you know what? It doesn’t matter.» He came up again, touching your earlobe with his lips. He was very happy. «Because now I know the truth.»

And again slammed his lips on yours with exasperating slowness, as if he wanted to drive you crazy, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to your mad heart. The kiss was a perfect mix of sweetness and mastery. He was determined, sure, but not aggressive if he wanted to take his time as if he wanted to savor every second.

His hands, resting on your hips, held you exactly where he wanted you to, without giving you the chance to escape and you were completely lost in that feeling, in the heat of his mouth against yours, the way every movement made you feel like you were falling into a vortex that you didn’t want to get out of.

Then, without realizing it, you missed a sound. A small, involuntary groan. "Hee..."

Time seemed to stand still.

Heeseung was stuck for a moment, then slightly detached from you, enough to look you straight in the eye and the smile she gave you was something dangerous. Sure. Of cheeky.

«Say it again.»

You felt the heat rise up your neck to your cheeks. "What?" You tried to deny it, but his voice trembled.

Heeseung looked down at your lips, then he looked back at you with that hot nerdy boy look that made you crazy. «You have just groaned my name.» He stroked your back slowly, sliding his fingers along your uncovered skin. «I want to hear it again.»

You clenched your fists against the fabric of his sweatshirt, trying to ignore the way his voice made you shiver. "Stop..."

But he didn’t want to stop. He brought his mouth closer to your ear, his voice low and almost hypnotic. «I want to hear my name on your lips. Only mine. No other boy.» You felt your heart stop for a moment, then start beating even harder and honestly, you didn’t know how to handle that version of Heeseung-too confident, too cheeky, too irresistible.

You were desperate to find a way to shift the conversation.

"I should go..."

He just leaned back, tilting his head with a funny smile. «And the story? You haven’t finished it.»

Bite your lip. "I don’t... I don’t want to tell you what happens next."

Heeseung leaned against the back of his gaming chair, still with you on his lap, and looked at you with a smug look. «Why not? So far we have been faithful to the plot, no?» shook your head with force. " Until here it could also be there, but... after becomes more..."

He raised an eyebrow, amused by his hesitation. «More?»

You looked down, playing with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "More... spicy."

Heeseung’s laugh was low and deep as if he had just heard something extremely interesting. «Oh? How spicy?»

You shrugged. "Enough."

He looked at you for a few seconds, then came closer again, touching your chin with his fingers. «Tell me.»

"The protagonist... I mean, you..."

Heeseung nodded impatiently. «Continue."

"... makes the protagonist feel good with her fingers and mouth."

He laughed softly. «Oh, really?»

You wanted to sink into shame. "Heeseung, I can’t..."

He looked at you with a dangerous smile. «Y/n, you wrote a one-shot hot about me and posted it on the internet for thousands of people. But you can’t tell me to my face, what have you written so forbidden about me?» he said laughing.

Hit him in the chest. "Stop laughing like that!"

He became more serious, but his gaze remained intense. «Ok, I ask you differently.» He took your chin between two fingers, forcing you to look him in the eye. «At the end of the story, you and I... do we have sex or love?»

Your heart lost a beat. The way he said it, in that low and sure voice, made you tremble.

"N-no. We don’t make love."

Heeseung stopped. «No?»

You looked down. "I... knew that you were not in love with me. So, in the story... let’s say we would only have sex."

For a moment, there was only silence in the room. Then, suddenly, Heeseung burst into laughter.

It was a warm, deep, amused... and slightly unbelieving laugh.

You looked at him with a frown. "Why are you laughing?"

Heeseung stared at you with a mixture of fun and something else-something deeper, more dark. «It’s just that...» He shook his head, still laughing. «Everyone sees you as the sweet and innocent girl. And here you are, sitting on my lap, telling me that you wrote a one-shot about me where we 'just' had sex.»

You cover your face with your hands. "Oh, my God, will you stop saying that?"

He smiled, tilting his head. «No. It’s too funny.»

Then he lowered his voice, the tone again full of that dangerous charm. «But tell me, Y/N... in the story, at the end, does the protagonist repent?»

Shook your head without looking at him. "No."

He approached, almost whispering against his skin. «And you? Would you regret if what you wrote became reality?"

Your heart lost a beat before you lost 1,000 years of life when you heard that question from the lips of Heeseung and the boy you had a crush on for 4 years. Without thinking for a moment it was your turn to take the reins and you kissed him, this time the kiss was more passionate, sloppy and you put your arms around his neck to feel it even more and he put his hands around your ass and got up slightly stumbling from his gaming chair and as he approached his bed he said:

«Tell me to stop now or I won’t do it anymore because I want you all for myself from today on» you made no head and Hee put you in his big bed, Hee looked at you with his eyes of children, and said:

«Princess, maybe we didn’t understand each other but you must use your lips and your mouth to speak, to tell me what you want me to do. I don’t want to do things you’ll regret, what do you want right now?»

Heeseung slammed your pants with his big hands and you just jerked slightly because he had a little cold hand.

"I want you to touch me," you mumble shamefully, and his lips rise with a smile of a grin.

«You are so pretty, really, who would have thought that you would ask her sweet and innocent Y/n to touch her.» Hee sighs, smiling fondly, but there is a sneaky gleam in his eyes as he looks at you; Hee begins rubbing his overalls length into the center of your core. You wanted to be touched with his hands not with his cock that pushed and then lowered, the friction made you moan a little "Mm-mm," protesting, but the way your hips move against him, rolling back and forth and rustling brazenly in search of relief, He tells another story, Hee laughed because he wanted to ruin you but at the same time be also cautious with you.

«Don’t you like it? But wait... what did you say before?» he asks, with a mocking cadence in his words. «I want you to touch me,» echoes your earlier request in a very bad imitation of your voice. «Well, I’m touching you, princess, don’t you like it?» When your only answer is a small nod, shake your head with disapproval, and the look becomes dark. «Words.»

"Yes," whimpering, without wasting a minute, slipping his smooth fingers over your underwear band and starting to caress your folds, fingers that slip through your excitement with embarrassing ease.

«You’re a disaster down here», he comments, her eyes lit up with joy and something wild, primordial as it teases you. «Do you like me so much? Hm, when you read and write those dirty things about me you touched?» He seems to need no answer as he smiles at you brazenly, scrutinizing your face intensely to absorb every reaction to his touch, no matter how small.

It slides your fingers up, up, up until it touches the lower part of your clitoris, and you wail, wriggling.

«Answer me Y/n» nodding weakly and laughing with a low voice and husky

«Show me», he croaks, and you blink, too embarrassed by her request. «Show me how you do it when you are alone when you think of me».

"I never did it at all Hee" he shrugged and gave you his hand and with a glance invited you to proceed; with the cheeks in flames, guided his hand to massage your clitoris in circles, Your abdomen stiffened by reflex every time it fingers touch the sensitive lower part of your clitoris.

«Speak to me, princess, don’t be shy», she gently urges you

"I only rub it in circles like this," you mumble, with a slightly husky voice for desire, and the change does not go unnoticed if Heeseung’s intensifying gaze means something.

«Don’t you go in?» he asks softly, and you shake your head.

"I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that to you," you whine, and he breathes in abruptly, swearing quietly, taking your panties off with already some leaks, and your pussy was already excited.

«I want to try something, do you trust me, princess?» you made myself with my head «I want to touch you as you like and at the same time I will touch you, suck and bite those turgid buds that are almost about to escape from the mesh for how hard they are and I will make you come»

"okay," you pulled up your shirt, and with a strong movement you took off the bra and your breast flipped slightly at the sight of your breast Heeseung cursed under his voice, with one hand she wrapped a breast and with her mouth, he started to suck and bite and at the same time with the other hand he taunted your clitoris and without warning you put one of his fingers in your core and you arch your back for the various sensations of pleasure that you felt.

"Hee" He sucks your buds with an almost ferocious ferocity, alternating breasts as if he never had enough, and his hand creeps around your side to draw you closer to him. As she pops your nipple back and forth with her tongue, her fingers pump into your pussy and stroke you closer to your orgasm until you’re so close that you can practically savor the sweet, intoxicating sensation of ecstasy. «Show me what sound you make when you come, princess.»

"It’s so beautiful," you whine, and he hums in agreement.

«Say my name, darling".

"Heeseung," you groan brazenly, and he makes a sound halfway between moaning and growling as he pulls your nipple with his teeth.

Does not stop taking care of your breasts alternating sucking and clicking and rolling his tongue around the buds until you fall, your body cools against the bed to support you as you come, and at the end, pulls out his fingers covered with excitement from your pussy, Sliding them over your lower lip before pushing your fingers into your mouth to suck.

You do it with an awkward look and he was watching every movement of your lips as you suck his finger.

«I bet that wasn’t in your story!» with a little shy smile you did no head and after a while, you saw Heeseung put one of his little pillows under you and push down at the same time your pants and boxer shorts, he spread your legs, fits between them and aligns the tip with your entry

«Ready, princess?» asks, and you nod cautiously, the eyes that come down from his face to where the thick head of its length presses against your core. «Good girl» whispers before slowly pushing into you, covering your mouth slightly with the palm of your hand while breathing loudly, Heeseung was seriously afraid that Sunghoon or his girlfriend could hear him fucking with you but who cared; he heard him groan, and come up with his girlfriend’s name.

"So beautiful," you whisper in amazement, and he chuckles softly into your ear, his lips pressed on the spot just behind your lobe.

«Feel so tight around me, darling, feel how you’re taking me,» he grunts, gasping breath in your ear. «So fucking good...»

"Heeseung, move," you whisper urgently as it touches the bottom within you, and he obeys, pulling out the tip and pushing back into you. A loud hiss of air comes out of your lungs, and he sucks on your ear lobe, making you emit a loud groan.

«God, do you want to make everyone hear who is fucking you? I remind you that we are not alone»

"Mm-! No, I don’t" you insist among your cries of pleasure, and he shakes his head with a mocking smile.

«Yes, you do» he teases you. «You want everyone to hear my name moaning and what will they think of you? The little and innocent Y/n is getting fucked like the perfect little doll obsessed with me and my dick»

"Hee-seung-" stutters, small noises leave you with every powerful push of his hips. It is so good, so big and thick, and it is filling you in the right way and hitting all the right spots, and it becomes too very quickly, an overwhelming amount of pleasure flowing through your body as it fucks you. He was much more good and realistic at all the times you had written, read on Tumblr, or thought about what it would be like to be his. His fingers find your clitoris, rubbing it in quick circles just as you showed him before. "Fuck, stop, too..."

«Stop lying, you said too much today so I should punish you for not letting me fuck you?» Whispers, moving to tilt the hips towards you in the right way so that each shot of the hips sends its tip directly into your G-spot.

You feel heat behind your eyes and the first tear comes down before you can dry it, another tear follows after that as the pleasure consumes you almost completely.

«Princess, don’t cry, I’m making you feel good and I’m giving you all that you wrote about me", he reached out his free hand to wipe the tears.

"So good, too good," you stutter, and he laughs, «Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry.»

"Please let me come" plead, and his movements stutter,

«Yes? Does the princess want to come?» he grunts, his eyes closing for a moment as your walls bend again around him. «Fuck, it’s so nice-come for me, baby.»

Without any need, you promptly collapse around him with a series of curses and "please" and you just say his name while your nails stick in the back, making him slightly drool. You sure look disastrous, your eyes moist and shiny as tears run down your cheeks.

«I’m close-dick-» grunts. «I’m coming, where do you want it?»

"Inside me, please..." moans weakly, and he makes a sound that is a mixture of a smug laugh and a groan.

«I can’t believe everyone thinks you’re a saint, an innocent girl and now you’re begging for my sperm. Do you want me to fill you up?» Breathe, the hips that penetrate you.

"Please..." you whine, and he swears to himself.

«Fuck, take it all», he pushes, his hips pressing against yours while he buries himself in you and unloads his load. «It’s all for you,» he says breathlessly as its length contracts inside of you.

It stays inside you for a moment, both of you try to catch your breath until he comes out from you and kisses you.

The room was immersed in a warm and comfortable silence, broken only by the slow and still slightly irregular breaths of you and Heeseung.

The sheets were a messy tangle around your bodies, while the soft light of the lamp illuminated the soft contours of your figures. Heeseung passed a hand through your hair, fingers gently intertwining between the strands, as if he wanted to memorize every detail of that moment. You were still with red cheeks, playing with his fingers, drawing little circles on the back of his hand.

After a while, he spoke in that relaxed and slightly amused tone that always made her heart beat.

«How much?»

You looked up, confused. "In what way?"

Heeseung laughed softly, shaking his head as if it were obvious. «How long have you had a crush on me?»

You flashed your eyes and instinctively covered your face with his hands. "No... I don’t know," the men lied, trying to hide their embarrassment.

He gently extended his hands, forcing you to look at him. «Y/n». His tone was low, amused, almost hypnotic. «Don’t lie to me.»

You looked down, biting your lip, then sighed. "Perhaps... four years."

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, surprised. «Four years?»

You slowly stare, feeling ashamed. "I didn’t know it myself at first, but then it became clear to me when I saw you for the first time on stage."

He looked at you for a long moment, then burst out laughing. «Four years?! Baby, it’s so much.»

You punched him lightly in the chest, sulky. "Here! And stop teasing me."

Heeseung chuckled, holding you close to him. «I’m not kidding, it’s just... absurd. Four years.» He shook his head, then lowered his voice, almost as if he was confessing a secret. «I have had a kind of crush on you for a couple of months.»

You raised your head of the shot, eyes wide open. "What?"

He smiled, stroking your cheek with his thumb. «Yeah. You didn’t really think I hadn’t noticed you, did you?»

You looked down, still incredulous, and he squeezed you harder.

For a while, they just stood there, embracing, enjoying that new sweet silence that spoke more than a thousand words.

Then, with a clever smile, Heeseung whispered against your ear: «So... if it worked so well, do you think you can write more one-shots about me?»

You lifted your head from the shot, hitting it lightly on his chest. "NO!" «Come on, you could at least make me the protagonist of an entire series.»

Shook my head, my eyes glistening. "No, I don’t need to imagine anything anymore. Better to hear it live."

Heeseung looked at you satisfied. «Excellent answer.»

And he kissed you again.

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[mimikyusrealform]

globalization

Spencer Reid x Reader. Word Count: 3703. Summary: Three times you leave Spencer speechless, and one time he leaves you speechless. Notes and Warnings: Set during S1 at the beginning, and then at S2. Mention of Somebody's Watching and North Mammon. There's a misogynistic comment, but it's quickly dealt with.

1.

The rivalry started innocuous enough. Three months after Dr. Spencer Reid joined the BAU, you were recruited as well. Fresh out of the academy and without a prebuilt rapport with the rest of the team, you felt out of place. They listened to your suggestions, but after a week and a half, it was like they were still teaching you the ropes, coddling you. Hotch didn’t even let you go out in the field. This piling dissatisfaction reached its culmination without warning.

“C’mon now,” Morgan said one day. You didn’t even remember what led to the following statement, but you remembered the phrase that started the domino effect. “Robberies have been declining since last year.”

“The robbery rate declined last year,” you corrected him as you skimmed through your oddly small workload for the day. They weren’t working on any cases. “It’s been declining since 1986, but it’s possible that the rate will increase this year in comparison to last year’s, which was at an all-time low, at 137.”

“136.7,” Dr. Reid corrected you from his own desk. He had already finished half of his work. “That is given a population of 293,656,842.” He looked at you and Morgan. “Did you know that the U.S Census Bureau estimates the population as of July 1 for each year? Except when it's a decennial census count, like 2000.”

It took Dr. Reid a whole minute to notice your glare. What a genius. He looked as if he was panicking a bit, and his gaze drifted between you and Morgan. He seemed to be begging with his eyes for Morgan to, somehow, reveal to him the secrets of the universe and what he should do to stop your glaring. But Morgan was not a pious entity, and he turned around, suddenly blind. It took Dr. Reid another minute to figure out why you were killing him in your head.

“I—I mean, you round up from 5, so 137 is accurate,” he rectified, staring back at you, like you were the abyss and he, the hero who needed to face it.

You stayed silent for a while. And then, you said, “That's dumb. The rate was 136.7. Sigh. I thought you were a genius, Dr. Reid, how could you even suggest that the rate was 137? Maybe you should check if you need to reinstall the eidetic memory package.”

Morgan made a sound that was between a dog barking out a laugh and a dog choking on its bone. But it was Dr. Reid's perplexed expression what you burned in your memory.

It wasn't your fault, really, that your antagonistic nature decided to pursue a war with the resident genius of the team. If you were to bluff in case of being questioned why you were so adamant in aggravating Dr. Spencer Reid in any way you could, you would say, “complacency is the enemy of natural selection and I'm truly benevolent—so I'm making the Doctor a favor by keeping him on his toes.” The truth was, Dr. Spencer Reid's geeky enthusiasm and nerdy rambles had charmed you. While you weren't on the same level as him when it came to intelligence—your latest IQ test had put you around 137, and that was knowing the common patterns the test tended to use—you had a knack for deconstructing things. When you were 8, you couldn't finish a Rubik cube for the life of you, but when you broke it down to its simpler parts, you found a way to solve it after learning how the core mechanism worked.

Antagonizing was how you dealt with your crushes. All the crushes you ever had, you actively treated them as if they were your mortal enemies. In a sense, they were. Understandably, none of them ever liked you, and you couldn't blame them. But, for some reason, the idea of Dr. Spencer Reid not returning your affections was—troubling, to say the least. And that only made you pricklier.

2.

Lila Archer was not an enemy but a victim with very poor timing. You draped a towel around her febrile shoulders, and patted her back in an ode to comfort. Then, you went out of the house to deal with your real foe. Dr. Spencer Reid was still trying to dry himself with a pathetically small cloth. In another occasion, it would have made you laugh. But you were, at loss of a better word, jealous. How shameful was that? You hadn’t been jealous since Nathaniel Sterling, your crush in tenth grade, started dating Rose Harding, the cloistered girl who ruined your straight-A-record in Math because you were paired with her during one assignment.

You had the bad habit of swallowing the acid that dripped from your own soul and regurgitating it when you were alone. For now, you compartmentalized. Weirdly enough, you found yourself feeling tired, instead of murderous. You understood, then, how having a crush on someone didn’t compare to being in love.

A crush was a candle in the wind; being in love was a fire in a forest.

The color of the night sky, that reflected on the blue water, covered the world of depth and beyond all bounds. Even the air was blue; it bit your skin. Or maybe it was your own feelings that prickled down your spine. If porcupines did mate for life, they would be the most tender lovers in the world, you thought. The prickliest beings loved carefully and purposefully.

Only after Elle left his side, did you approach. Though the look she gave you was too perceptive for your liking. “I didn’t know kissing with the girl you’re supposed to be protecting from her stalker was part of the protocol. Please, forward me the exact article that describes the effectiveness of French kisses as a method of protection against erotomaniacs.”

He tried to ignore your wording, but his ears were red, and so were his cheeks, despite the fact the air had cooled the water clinging to his clothes. “I, uh, I fell in,” was all he could muster given the fact you had a gun, a motive and a cold heart.

“I see,” you nodded. “That’s what tends to happen when you pool your women.”

“I don’t pool my women! I-I don’t even—I don’t even have women.”

“Relax, Doctor, you won’t drown. If you know how to two-stroke, two-timing should come naturally to you.”

Dr. Reid made a pitiful sound when he realized there was no winning against you.

“She kissed me first,” he said.

“Maybe you deserved it.”

“Don’t make it sound like a punishment.”

“I’m not.” You were sincere.

3.

You were pretty good at remaining unmovable, and you were proud of that. But—this guy. This guy.

“All I did was show them who they really are,” he was saying with that stupid self-satisfied smile. “What they were truly capable of. People pretending to be decent. When it came down to it, they… They reacted just the way I knew they would.”

“Is that so,” you couldn’t help but interrupt his little monologue. Gideon looked at you from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t try to stop you. “Congratulations. Be proud of discovering the sky is blue for the rest of your life, I commiserate you; it must have been so hard for you. Do you really think you’re a mastermind for this?” His smile slowly disappeared, replaced by a glare directed towards you. “If you starve a dog, are you a genius for knowing the dog will end up becoming aggressive? But then, that’s a Nobel-worthy dissertation for someone so simpleminded like you.”

He started to say something, voice shaking from barely contained rage, but you were already leaving the basement. He yelled after you. You couldn’t hear him over the buzzing in your ears.

In the plane, you were shutting down the world around you by pretending to read a Russian Copy of The Brothers Karamazov. You didn’t speak Russian. That was—until Reid sat in front of you. He didn’t speak for a moment, just observed you. You flipped five pages before he finally said,

“Are you okay?”

“What an unpleasant question,” you replied. He kept looking at you, which annoyed you because it made your stomach twist. “I suppose. That guy got on my nerves.”

“I thought you didn’t have nerves,” he said. “I mean… you always act as if you’re untouched by the world.”

“I try my utmost not to be perceived. The world is a scary place, after all.”

“It is scary,” he agreed. “But, scary—how? How does someone like you find the world to be scary?”

You put your book down on your lap. “Full of people.” You twirled a strand of hair around your index finger. “And what I hate most are the people who lie to themselves. That guy—lied to himself that he was right. He decided to believe other people were his enemies instead of realizing… realizing he was his own worst enemy.”

It wasn’t without tact—though it startled you all the same—when he said, “Sounds a bit like you.”

“Oh, right.” You supposed it was a fair assessment; you never gave him any indication that you actually didn’t see him as enemy. You acted like you did, after all. Maybe he really believed you hated him. So, “I don’t hate you. If I was smart, I would go as far as to say that I like you.”

You watched him freeze for a split of a second before his face turned red, like a M-class star. It gave you terrible ideas and horrible impulses. You couldn’t help but reach for his glasses, and—gently push them up the bridge of his nose. Your index finger brushed against his skin. His face went a class up in the Morgan-Keenan classification.

“But you are smart,” he managed to choke out. “Very smart.”

“What are you implying?”

He couldn’t answer, and you returned to your book, a bit disappointed, maybe. You had thought he was ready to give in. You still couldn’t read a single word. Reid must have noticed because he ended up prying the book from your hands, and began reading out loud, just for you, just for your enjoyment. It was enough.

+1.

“Kid,” Morgan called as he slid in the seat next to him. “Seriously, when are you gonna ask her out? Save the rest of us from her pining.”

Spencer frowned. “Ask who out?”

He was only half listening, but when Morgan said your name, he spluttered. “What?!” He lowered his tone after that voice break. “Morgan, are you crazy? She hates my guts.”

Morgan looked incredibly amused. “No, she doesn't. She's just pulling your hair. And, if she actually hated you, well, I don't think I need to remind you what happened to Officer Harrison. I really wish I had been there to see it.”

Spencer almost smiled at the memory. A few months back, a case had brought them to Texas when the local police discovered two independent pairs of hands scattered across their state line. The second in command, Officer Harrison, had been a flagrant misogynistic and a stereotypical macho-man.

“But what does cutting the hands-off mean?” Officer Harrison had asked.

JJ, you and him were the only ones from the team still in the bullpen.

Hotch did trust you with fieldwork, but he found that you and Spencer were an especially good match, so he mostly paired the two of you together. You bounced off each other’s ideas with an uncanny synergy.

Before he could ramble off, you beat him to it, “The ancient Greek sometimes mutilated the body of their victim. There's a theory that says that the mutilation of the body corresponded to the mutilation of the soul, so that the shade, without limbs, couldn't enact vengeance over the killer. Maybe the Unsub’s superstitious and believes that by cutting off their hands he’s saving himself from their ghosts.”

Officer Harrison had looked at you, before dragging his gaze up and down your body. He had mainly interacted with Morgan and Hotch, sometimes himself; and almost none with you, JJ and Emily. Then, he whistled sarcastically. “That's very impressive, darlin'. I didn't take you for the smart type. No offense, but you don't look like it.”

Rage was born in the pit of the stomach, Spencer found out that day. It rendered him immobile for a moment, and before he could tell the officer off, you beat him to it, again. Intelligence wasn’t quantifiable, he knew this. But you always managed to prove it to him. Some tests might say he was several points smarter than you, but you were two steps ahead of him, every single time.

From the corner of his eye, he could see JJ’s appalled expression. He wondered how his own face looked.

“Oh,” you had said. “Looks can be deceiving. It's alright. No offense taken. I myself was deceived by your looks—I thought you were a conventionally ugly man, maybe even a rare ugliness, but you're actually a piece of shit in human form. Tell me, did the doctor perform a colonoscopy on your mother to find out if she was pregnant, as opposed to an ultrasound?”

JJ's lips were pulled inwards in a tight, flat grimace, as if she was trying and failing to stifle her laughter, and Spencer found himself playing side-eye ping-pong between you and Officer Harrison.

“Why, you bit—” Officer Harrison stammered, face growing a tint of red and fists comically clenched.

“Jonathan,” Sheriff Mendoza had interjected then, sternly. “Why don't you take a walk? Go on, get some air.”

Officer Harrison looked as if he was going to self-combust from how ruddy his face was and how sweat accrued on his temple. His shoulders were trembling when he attempted to storm out. He seemed ready to shoulder-check you, but you put a hand on his chest and held him in place.

“Officer Harrison. Harrison. Jonathan? Johnny? Johnny, by all means, please underestimate me again,” you told him lowly. “It'll make the look on your face when I ruin your life funnier.”

With that, you finally let him go, and he bulldozed his way out of the bullpen. You could practically hear his teeth grinding.

“... I'm sorry for him,” Sheriff Mendoza had offered awkwardly, a deep sigh pulled out of his chest.

You had shrugged. “Natural selection will do its work.”

Spencer thought you had never looked lovelier than in that moment.

He shook his head to clear the memory away. “Maybe she doesn't hate my guts,” he admitted reluctantly. “But I'm still his least favorite person here.”

“Wow,” Morgan said exaggeratedly. “For a genius, you can be stupid sometimes. She clearly likes you, man. Look, tell you what, the next time she picks up a fight with you, tell her this: ‘you are hot when you're talking about statistics’.” He was laughing by the end of it while Spencer choked with his own saliva. “She'll love it, I promise.”

“How can you be so sure?” he replied. “She's so emotionally repressed and so unapologetically herself, I don't think anything I do will ever get a real reaction out of her.”

“Trust me on this one, kid,” was all Morgan said with a pat to his back.

Spencer spent the rest of the day thinking about his words. When he first met you, you had offered him a handshake like most other people. He rambled his well-practiced explanation, “A study shows that the number of organisms, both pathogenic and non-pathogenic, that are passed during handshakes is staggering. Kissing is actually more sanitary than handshakes.” But instead of looking at him like he was a weirdo, you had stared at him, unshakeable, and replied,

“I can say ‘a study shows that shooting yourself in the head is an efficient way to de-stress’, but if I don't say what study it is, then does the study really exist?”

That was the first time his heart lurched in your presence. When he spoke again, his voice was a bit breathless, “Uh, it's a study published in The Public Health Journal, by H. W. Hill and Helen M. Matthews. Volume 17, number 7, July, 1927, I-I mean, 1926. It's titled Transfer of Infection by Handshakes. Pages 347 to 352. I-I can get you a copy of it.”

You blinked at him, but he didn't feel as if you thought he was a freak. He felt like you were amazed by him. It brought his heart to his throat.

“Is that so,” you had said. “Then, I expect it to be delivered at my doorstep at 5 o'clock sharp, tomorrow. Military time.”

He had been stunned into silence for a few seconds. “That's... unreasonable. I don't even know where you live.”

You said, “It's quite standard.”

“Then you have unreasonable standards.”

“I've been told.”

Spencer had thought you and him would become something like best friends. For the first week and a half, you had been quite friendly with him, and often listened to his rambles. But then, then he had made the terrible mistake of correcting an innocuous error you made regarding a statistic, and the look you had shot at him could have curled water. From that point on, you seemed to have made it your life mission to fight him at any chance.

And yet—he never got the feeling you did it out of malice. He thought you did hate him on some level, but when you argued against his points during a case, there was a glint in your eye. Like you were still amazed by him. Sometimes, you even finished his rambles when he couldn't land them. Sometimes, you were the only one who listened to him when he sidetracked. To him, you defined the wonder of globalization. When you were there, it was like talking to the stars, and having the stars answering him back in perplexing, secret ways. He kind of figured this out when you smiled at his existentialist joke. You told him it wasn't funny, but your eyes were bright.

Maybe trying Morgan's advice wouldn't go so bad.

If only you weren’t so prickly. And clever and quick, he added in his head, just in case you were hearing his thoughts. He wouldn’t put it past your abilities. For three weeks, Spencer hadn’t managed yet to seize a situation in which Morgan’s advice worked at his favor. It wasn’t until the team, you and him included, obviously, went out for drinks that he finally got his chance.

“You aren’t drinking?” he asked you. You were cradling a Virgin Margarita in your hands, and for a moment he wished your fingers were curled around his own instead of the glass.

“No,” you said. “You’re clearly the best in the profiling game. Take pride on this display of your observational skills for the rest of your life.”

He sighed. You were impossible. Still, he couldn’t keep the fondness out of his voice when he said, “You don’t have to be so defensive with me.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, and he arched an eyebrow. “I have to be especially defensive with you.”

“That’s not… that’s not what I meant,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay. Why do you have to, uh, be ‘especially’ defensive with me?”

You didn’t answer him. But he knew you couldn’t go without having the last word, so he patiently waited for you to gather a satisfactorily poignant response. In the meantime, he took the time to examine your face; there was a quality to it he would never find a perfect word to describe it. Maybe it was your supraorbital ridge, or your posterior zygomatic arch, or even the vertical length of your forehead. He just knew you were lovely. He had never been comfortable with not knowing something, but with you, he didn’t need to know. He would rather discover you, if you would let him. If you were full of secrets, he would work them out; if he only found hatred for him, he would press his mouth to it and relish in it.

“Because you have a BA in Psychology,” you ended up saying, stoic as ever, “and I’m a soft girl with mental health issues.”

He laughed. It took him a lot of time to figure out that—the more matter-of-factly you said something, the less serious you were. Your lips quirked up in a little smile, and you sipped your drink. The rest of the team—besides Hotch—hadn’t yet realized your tell-tale sign.

The words escaped him before he could think them over, “You’re cute when you pretend to be emotionless.”

Your facial expression didn’t change, and that was alright, because when you turned your head to the side—he could clearly see the faint blush on your cheekbones. “Fool.”

Ah, he realized. I won. You were at a loss of words. Because of him.

“You know, the word ‘fool’ comes from Old French fol, which means ‘madman, insane person’ and ‘idiot, jester’, and fol is from Medieval Latin follus, adjective for ‘foolish’. The evolution of its meaning can probably be attributed to the use of follis in a sense of ‘empty-headed person’. The word was also used in Middle English for ‘sinner, rascal, impious person’. It actually must have been passed to the English language via its borrowing in the Scandinavian language of the Vikings. And did you know that the association between April 1 and foolishness in Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales could have been a copying error and...”

You didn’t look at him as he continued going on his tangent, but he knew that you were listening intently. Because your body was angled towards him, even if you kept your face away from his gaze, and when he took a pause to breathe, you hummed in acknowledgment only for his ears.

Globalization was saying hello and someone answering hola from miles away.

But you didn’t need to answer him for Spencer to understand you were in love with him and he was in love with you.

[kookooluvr]

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE — PART 1

jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: fwb should be warning in itself, jungkook is a simp and a hot nerdy professor (yummm), oc has a tabby cat named miso, bam makes his first appearance, jungkook has a big ol' crush on oc, some unrequited romantic feelings (?) we're not sure yet, explicit sexual content; making out, kook has heart eyes for oc's boobs, five second strip show, like a split second of male masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), a teeny wheeny bit of fingering, oc rides that thang like a cowgirl, unprotected sex (oc is on birth control and they're both clean), plus some angsty vibes at the end :(((

a/n: part 1 is out my dudes !!! 😭😭 i hope you enjoy this little introduction to jungkook and oc, and i can't wait to start exploring their dynamic a little more in depth in the next parts!! i'm so excited to go on this journey with you all, so pls make sure to follow, reblog, and send me an ask if you want to chat about these cuties 🤪 part 2 coming soon !

SERIES MASTERLIST

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It's the end of the day and Jungkook is on his way out, heading home after an exhausting day at the university. He walks down the corridor, his phone in hand, his eyes trained to his phone as he checks his emails.

You step out of your office, shutting the door and straightening your bag on your shoulder. You dig through it for your office keys, locking up once you find them. He looks up from his phone for a second and spots you, a smile tugging at his lips as he pockets his phone and walks over to you.

He leans against the wall next to your door, arms crossed, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Hey,” he murmurs with a little grin.

“Hey, Kook,” you greet softly, walking away to head home, Jungkook peeling himself off the wall to walk next to you.

“Long day?” he asks with a sympathetic smile.

You love your job, really, you do. But some days are draining and dealing with young adults who don't even know how to reference their sources for an essay or spell parliament properly can actually drive you to drink. “Mm, thank God the day's over,” you chuckle, looking over at him as you walk down the stone walkway together, the sun slowly starting to set on campus.

He chuckles, looking over at you to catch the way the golden hour light casts a pretty yellowish-orange glow over your skin, his eyes quickly diverting down to the ground to stop himself from staring, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Hey, uhm...if you don't have any plans tonight, do you maybe wanna come over to my place?” he asks, feeling like an awkward teenager with a crush every time he asks you that, even if he's done it ten dozen times by now. He knows why he's inviting you over. You know why he's inviting you over.

“Yeah, sure,” you say casually, heading in the direction of the parking lot to get to your car. You see it in its usual parking spot, right next to his, just like it is every day, like a silent declaration that you're a package deal.

His heart really shouldn't do that weird thump-thump thing that it does every time you agree to come over, but it does, and it might just be heart disease, but he is yet to get it under control. “Cool...cool...Is 7 okay for you?” he asks, taking out his keys as he approaches his car, leaning against the driver's door with a little smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I'll just go home and change out of these clothes and feed Miso then I'll head over,” you murmur absentmindedly while you dig through your bag for your car keys, searching through the endless pit of earphones, a tangled phone charger, lip liner, lip gloss, and ten thousand receipts for things you don't even remember buying. He watches you with a faint smile, knowing how messy that bag is, but also knowing that if he lectures you about it, your response will be, 'you don't get it, you're not a woman' so he minds his business and stands by patiently.

“You can go, I'll manage,” you mumble, your eyebrows furrowed, a soft pout on your lips as you rummage through the leather bag. He chuckles and cocks his head to the side, finding it quite amusing. “You sure? I feel like I could find the cure for cancer before you find your keys in that thing.”

“You should quit teaching and go into comedy,” you mutter dryly, finally finding the damn keys. “Ha. Found it,” you quip, smiling sarcastically before unlocking the car. He shakes his head with a soft smile, rolling his eyes as he gets in his own car. He'll get you back for your sass, but he knows that his 'punishments’ feel more like a reward than anything else.

You go home and feed Miso, the grey tabby lounging around like she's the queen of your apartment, completely unbothered that you're only staying for a little while before eventually leaving again to get dicked down hang out with Jungkook. You put on some comfortable sweats and give her a few kisses and cuddles before heading over to Jungkook's place.

This is a regular thing for you guys. You remain professional at work, well, as professional as two people who are hooking up can be, and then you go over to his place, or vice versa, and sometimes there's wine, sometimes there's dinner, sometimes you go straight to the sexy part, or sometimes there's no sexy part at all because one of you just wants to talk or watch a movie. It works for you. It's easy. It feels good. Really good.

He's a good friend. He's kind, he's a good listener, and he's all those nice, sweet, lovely things. He's also really good in bed, which is always a bonus in a...friend.

Good friends offer to drive you home from the club when you've had one too many to drink. Good friends support you in times of need. Good friends go down on you until your legs shake. That's just how it is.

"Slow down, you're gonna choke," he chuckles, watching you stuff your face with Indian takeout. It's like a competitive sport when the two of you eat dinner, which is one of the things you like most about hanging out with Jungkook. There is no pressure to be perfect. You can act the way you really want to and not feel scrutinized for it. Maybe it's just because his big fat crush has completely tinted the way he sees you, but he'd happily watch you pig out if it means he gets to spend time alone with you.

“I thought you like it when I choke a little bit,” you tease, just wanting to get a reaction out of him, and that's exactly what you get. He nearly chokes on his food, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide as he looks over at you.

“Jesus Christ, ___, you can't just say stuff like that,” he coughs, trying to compose himself, roughly clearing his throat to not die via chicken biryani. It’s quite a strange thing how he can go from this to a sex god in bed, not that it's anything for you to complain about.

Jungkook does the dishes after dinner which allows you to enjoy some alone time with Bam. The brown doberman plops down on the couch, practically begging to be cuddled. He’s always been quite fond of you, since Jungkook adopted him three years ago. He’s the sweetest boy. He loves being loved on, much like his father.

Jungkook watches as you give Bam “lovies” as you call it, the dog absolutely basking in the attention.

“I’m starting to think he likes you more than me,” Jungkook jokes with a scoff, smiling as Bam does his ‘sit/lay down’ tricks for you. What a showoff.

“He’s never gotten that comfortable with anyone who isn't me,” he murmurs with a soft smile, watching the two excited puppies in his living room. “He gets really excited when he knows you're coming over.”

“Bam, cut it out. I’m Miso’s mommy, she’s going to get jealous,” you playfully scold him, although the scratches you give him say otherwise. He’s just a doe-eyed, dark-haired, soft-hearted boy. Again, much like his father.

Jungkook finishes drying the dishes and practically shoves Bam out the way to get the same attention from you. He lays down on the couch with his head in your lap and you already know what he wants. You lightly scratch his scalp, watching his eyes flutter shut, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his hair. Sex is great, but there's something about moments like this that just makes him want to get down on his knees and give you whatever you want, whenever you want it.

“I think Bam-ie’s upset,” you chuckle, looking over at him with a soft, apologetic smile, his father looking anything but sorry. He chuckles as he watches Bam quietly stroll back to the bedroom, his eyes fluttering shut once more when you do that thing with your nails that sends shivers down his spine.

“He’ll live,” he scoffs, wincing when you give his hair a firm tug, his lips puffing up into a pout.

You don't really remember how exactly you ended up on his lap with your hands in his hair and his lips peppering your jaw and neck with gentle, tender kisses, but you know that it feels good.

“We’ve been so busy lately, we’ve barely gotten a chance to do this,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands trailing up your thighs to rest at your hips.

You scoff, your eyes fluttering shut as he sucks on that sweet spot behind your ear. It's true. You’ve both been so busy with work that you haven't hung out or had sex in two weeks.

“I know. I’ve been relying on my vibrator.”

He feels a shrill of heat run through him at the thought of you pleasuring yourself, as if he hasn't already seen the actual thing live in-person.

“Yeah? Is he better than me?” he teases with a little grin, pressing soft kisses to your pulse point.

“First of all; she, and I mean…she gets the job done,” you tease, not wanting to outright admit that nothing and no one can make you cum the way he does.

“You couldn't have just said no?” he chuckles, leaning his head back to rest against the back of the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looks up at you. “Maybe I should get myself a toy too…y’know, for when you're too busy,” he teases with a lazy grin.

“What, like a pocket pussy?” you laugh.

“Mm. Something like that.”

“I’d prefer you to be inside me instead of a fake vagina,” you quip, leaning in to press a feather-like kiss to his lips, just testing the waters a bit. “Are you gonna think of me when you use it?” you tease, batting your lashes the way you know makes him go a little weak.

He swallows thickly, nodding like he’s hypnotised. “Of course I’d think of you,” he murmurs, his hips bucking up in a sad attempt to get you to give him some friction. “It wouldn't compare to you though. Nothing compares to you.” His voice is soft and airy, sounding almost pathetic.

You feel a little smile tug at your lips, your resolve slowly slipping. He’s so open about his thoughts and feelings. He’s not afraid to be vulnerable and lay it all out there, even if it is just sex.

His heart does that stupid thump-thump thing again at the sight of your smile, but now really isn't the time to psychoanalyse that, so he pushes that thought away for later.

“Can you take this off for me?” He slips his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, getting a bit antsy to see more of you.

He’s never really given it too much thought whether he’s an ass or tits typa guy, but when you pull your sweatshirt over your head and his eyes land on that black bra with the little pink bows, the one that you know he likes so much, he swears he’s never seen anything prettier.

“God, I love these.” He leans his head forward to press soft little kisses to the tops of your breasts, his hands trailing up the sides of your ribs. “My pretty girls.”

Your eyes fall shut, the butterflies starting to flutter in the pit of your stomach. Sex with him is so soft and sweet. He says nice things and he makes you feel good, both physically and emotionally, and that makes your anxiety spike just a tad, so you deflect.

“Do you always make conversation with a woman’s tits before you stick it in her or…?”

He chuckles, and it's deep and warm, a little comforting, like if hot cocoa had a voice.

“Take this off. Wanna see them,” he murmurs softly, lightly tugging at the strap of your bra to let it snap back against your skin.

You roll your eyes, but the faint smile on your lips tells him that you're more than happy to oblige. You reach back to unclasp it, letting the material fall from your body, his eyes growing a shade darker at your exposed skin.

He swirls his tongue around a nipple and sucks before repeating the same thing on the other side, giving both breasts the attention they deserve. His eyes flutter shut like he wants to savour every little moment with you.

You reluctantly get up off his lap, and before he can protest, you're discarding the rest of your clothing, sliding your sweatpants down your legs. He makes quick work of following your lead by removing his shirt and pants, his boxers following quickly behind.

You make a little show of removing your panties, and you would normally be embarrassed by the amount of moisture that has already accumulated inside the flimsy material, but right now, all you can focus on is his hand giving his cock a few lazy strokes while he watches you undress for him.

“C’mere.” He spreads his legs a bit, his cock already almost fully hard, the tip slowly turning a light shade of pink. You'd never thought of a cock as 'pretty' before, but damn, it's pretty.

You do as he says without a single protest or complaint, your pussy practically throbbing at the sight of him. Oh, how wonderful it is to be his friend.

You get down on your knees in front of him, his eyelids hanging low as he looks down at you, his hand pumping his cock.

You pride yourself in being good at oral sex, but it's never been something you particularly love doing. That is, until you started hooking up with Jungkook. Sometimes he’ll just be doing something as simple as watching a show on tv, and you’ll be on your knees with your hair up and his cock hitting the back of your throat. It's everything, from the sounds he makes, to the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part in ecstasy, that makes it so enjoyable.

You take over for him, giving his cock a few strokes before swirling your tongue around the head, pulling a deep groan from the back of his throat. You start sucking, working your way down his length, occasionally looking up to see that look on his face that makes your pussy clench. He rests his hand at the back of your head, not applying pressure, just wanting to feel more of you as you bob your head up and down a few times.

You give the tip some attention, then go all the way down to the base so that your nose just lightly brushes against his pelvis, then back up again, keeping a nice rhythm. His groans, paired with the way his stomach tenses every time you take him down to the base, is almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

“Fuck…baby, stop, please. Don't wanna cum too early,” he murmurs hoarsely, reaching for you to get up and straddle his lap. Your hips slide back and forth, your slick coating him, his dick glistening under the low light of the living room lamp.

“Already? Jesus, Jungkook, have some self-respect.” You can't help but tease him a bit, even in a moment like this, where you're in no position to be making fun of his desperation when you’re as wet as you are.

He scoffs, his hand disappearing between your legs, his middle and ring finger rubbing slow circles over your clit before sliding back to sink into your sopping entrance, shutting you right up.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he teases with a lazy little grin, his fingers slowly pumping in and out, your wetness allowing him to move them without any resistance.

“Don't speak about my daughter at a time like this.”

His laughter gets cut off by your lips crashing into his, his fingers slipping out of you as you lift your hips to align the tip of his cock with your entrance.

“Want me to sit on it?”

“Yeah.” His voice is breathless as the anticipation slowly builds in his gut. No matter how many times you have sex, he’ll never get tired of that rush of adrenaline that flows through him in that moment right before he slides in.

“Ask nicely.”

“___, come on,” he laughs half-heartedly, tilting his head back against the couch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“Ask me nicely and I’ll sit down, Kook,” you whisper, leaning in so that your lips just barely graze against his.

“Please…please, baby. Ride me, please.”

The groan he lets out as you slowly sink down on his cock is enough to send shivers down your spine. It's thick and long, but it's not too big for it to hurt. It fits perfectly, nice and snug like a glove.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he mutters hoarsely, his hands gripping you harder as you begin to roll your hips in that fluid motion that makes him go a little crazy.

It feels like an honour that he gets to see you like this, naked on top of him, riding him deep and slow on his couch after a long day at work. He doesn't know what he ever did in his lifetime to deserve to be balls deep inside you on a Friday night, but he knows that he’s a lucky bastard.

“Just like that. Fuck, you're so tight,” he groans, looking down to watch the way your pussy sucks him in, like something out of a wet dream.

You set a nice pace, riding him just the way he likes it. You reach down to rub circles over your clit, your walls clenching around his cock, pulling soft moans and whimpers from his lips.

“Keep going,” he mutters, his voice trembling. “Fuck, you're gonna make me cum, baby…”

You ride a bit faster, applying more pressure to your clit as you chase your own high. He fights to keep his eyes open, desperately needing to watch you as the pleasure takes over.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” The pleasure creeps up on you and you cum with a breathless moan, your walls fluttering around his length, throbbing and pulsating.

“Gonna…holy shit…gonna cum, baby, don't stop…”

You use the last of your energy to bring him to his peak, moving your hips until his cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath you. He cums with a guttural groan, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard that it might bruise tomorrow.

You continue to grind down on him to help him ride it out. You gently run your fingers through his damp hair, his skin slightly dewy, his eyes squeezed shut. He trembles as the aftershocks flow through him, his breathing coming out a bit uneven.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, looking like he just died and came back to life. He lifts his head to press a soft kiss to your lips, but you pull away before he can deepen it.

“Come on, let go. I gotta go clean up.”

You very rarely allow him to cuddle you after sex. It feels too intimate, too romantic. You don't allow yourself to be romantic with Jungkook. He's not your boyfriend and you like it that way.

He lets out a small hum of disagreement as you lift yourself up, his hands moving to hold your waist.

"Stay here for a little longer," he mumbles softly, his voice drowsy. He looks at you with big doe eyes, trying to persuade you to stay. “Just a few more minutes.”

“You're starting to soften inside me and I have to shower, Kook. You know I hate feeling sticky.”

He reluctantly lets you go, groaning softly as you get up off his lap. "Fine, fine," he grumbles, his eyes following you as you walk over to the bathroom.

You walk off to his bathroom and close the door, locking it behind you. Locking the door is something so simple but it means so much. It means, 'You're not my boyfriend so we can't share that level of intimacy. You can fuck my brains out, but you can't wash my hair in the shower or sit on the toilet while I do my skincare'. It's too coupley.

Jungkook slowly puts his boxers back on, staring at the bathroom door. He knows he’s not your boyfriend. He knows he probably never will be. He knows all your boundaries and your rules and your reasons for having them, but that doesn't make it sting any less. He can't help but wonder what it would feel like if you actually allowed him to love you, but he knows he’s just being foolish and hopeful. He knows that by physically locking that door, you're locking him out of ever getting closer to you emotionally.

PART 2

[cherryyluvs]

The way you wrote Mark in late night lesson I loved it. Can you write another one similar? little spicy to it? Hickeys per se. 😗 a cute nerdy mark 😏 I leave the rest to you

Who needs textbooks when Mark's teaching you anatomy like this? hope you enjoy! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

Study Break

Mark has always been a little bit of a nerd, comic books, study dates, and late nights where you both would go over notes together. But tonight felt different..

He showed up to your dorm room with a stack of books and that cute dorky smile. His hair was slightly messy like he’d been running his hands through it too much.

“Ready to fail this exam together?” he teased, flopping onto your bed.

The two of you were sitting on your bed, textbooks spread around you. But Mark’s attention had long since differed away from the textbooks. “You good?” you asked, moving your head towards him with a soft smile.

Mark’s cheeks flushed. “Y-yeah!’ Totally good. Studying. Totally focused.”

You raised an eyebrow. “focused , huh?”

Mark cleared his throat. “ I mean.. It's kind of hard to focus when you're sitting so close.”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling too hard. He was adorable when he would get flustered. “You know..” you leaned in a little closer “we're not gonna pass this exam if you keep staring at me instead of the textbook.”

Mark’s breath hitched, his hand twitching on his thigh. “I… I wasn’t staring.”

“You were totally staring”

Mark opened his mouth to protest, but before he could you noticed a comic book sticking from out under his notebook.

“Wait” you reached over grabbing it. “Were you seriously reading Seance Dog while we’re supposed to be studying?”

Mark’s face turned bright red. “It helps me focus!!”

You laughed, flipping through the pages. “Oh my god you are such a nerd.”

Mark looks away rubbing the back of his neck. “You say that like it's a bad thing”

“It's not” you murmured. Setting the comic down before moving closer, your legs making contact with his. His breathing paused when you tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. “It's actually kinda cute.”

“R-Really?”

“Yeah” you whispered. Your gaze focusing on his lips. “Really.”

And before he could even answer, you leaned in. So close your breath ghosted over his skin and kissed him. His lips were soft, hesitant at first but slowly deepening the kiss.

He groaned lowly and melted into it. His hand slid to your hip, pulling you closer until you were practically sitting on his lap. As the forgotten textbooks fell to the floor with a soft thud. His lips moving with more confidence, tongue slipping between your lips.

‘“Y-you sure we shouldnt be studying?” he whispered into your ear.

“Oh we're studying” you teased, rolling your hips against his bulge. “Just… anatomy instead” Letting out a soft laugh but turned into a gasp when you felt his cold hands slide under your shirt. Fingertips skimming the curve of your waist, as he leaned in closer. His breath was hot against your ear.

Sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “You know how hard it is to concentrate when you’re sitting down looking like that?”

“Mark” you breathed. Your eyes fluttered shut as he kissed his way down your jaw. “Hmm?” His lips trailed down to suck your neck. His tongue tracing the curve of your collarbone. "God you taste so good" Mark murmured against your skin. His voice rough with desire. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing them as he ground his hips against yours.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close as he lavished attention on your neck. Each press of his lips and each flick of his tongue sent sparks of pleasure racing through your veins. You could feel the heat building between your thighs. the ache and need for his touch growing with each passing second.

"I could taste you for hours" he whispered. His teeth grazing your earlobe.

"Then don't stop" you breathed. Tilting your head to give him better access. He sucked your neck like he never wanted to stop, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

And honestly? You didn’t want him to stop either.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“My little love,Mama’s got a lot to learn.”

Batboys x single mum reader

My little love by Adele makes me cry every time now that i have kid.Because what if im doing this all wrong.Buttt enjoy!

Bruce Wayne

• At first, Bruce is hesitant — not about you, but about whether he could be a good father figure for your child.

• Once he commits, he commits. He’s suddenly funding your child’s education, upgrading their stroller to a literal tank and reading parenting books at 3AM.

• Surprisingly good at bedtime stories — his deep voice makes fairy tales sound like epic adventures.

• He sometimes slips and calls your kid “ours.” You pretend not to notice, but your heart definitely does.

⸻

Dick Grayson

• Dick loves kids — he’s the type to immediately crouch down to their level and ask their name.

• He’s the fun “stepdad” type — trampoline parks, baking cookies (he burns them), and choreographed dance parties.

• Teaches your kid acrobatics and ends up making them his little sidekick-in-training.

• Loves you fiercely and constantly reassures you that you’re not in this alone anymore.

⸻

Jason Todd

• Jason is surprisingly protective — he softens a lot around your child, even if he still gives off a rough exterior to the world.

• Reads your kid classic literature and gritty detective novels — he says they need “culture,” but he skips the violent parts.

• Carries juice boxes in his jacket like he’s carrying ammo. Snacks on one side, weapons on the other.

• He never talks about being a good role model, but shows up for every school event and parent-teacher conference without fail.

⸻

Tim Drake

• Tim overthinks everything — he googled “how to bond with children” the minute he found out you were a single mum.

• Gets overwhelmed at first but eventually becomes your kid’s favorite nerdy uncle-type. Teaches them coding, chess, and gives them supervised access to the Batcomputer.

• Sleep-deprived bonding moments — your child once woke up from a nightmare and found Tim already awake researching ways to help.

• You once caught them both asleep in front of a monitor, drooling onto a pile of LEGOs and snack wrappers.

Damian Wayne (Angsty Edition)

• When you first meet, Damian is distant. He’s polite — in that blunt, vaguely condescending way — but he keeps emotional distance from both you and your child.

• It’s not personal. He’s terrified of failing. Of becoming like his mother. Of inheriting the worst of both legacies and ruining a child that isn’t even his.

• He watches from the sidelines — his expression unreadable as your child laughs, clutches your hand, calls out to him with easy affection. Something tightens in his chest every time.

• One day, your child gets hurt. Not seriously — just a scraped knee, a tumble. But Damian’s reaction is instant and furious — with himself. He cradles them gently, whispering in Arabic, not realizing he’s shaking.

• He tries to push you away afterward. “They deserve someone better,” he says. “You both do.”

• But your child draws him a picture of “Dami, Mum, and me.” It’s crudely drawn — your child has given him a sword and a heart.

• He keeps the drawing folded in his wallet. No one knows it’s there.

• Damian doesn’t say “I love you” easily — but he shows it in quiet acts. Fixing your child’s broken toy with surgical precision. Standing watch outside their door during storms. Holding you in the quiet moments and asking, “Are you sure you want this? Me?”

• He eventually starts calling your child “my son” or “my daughter.” Quietly. Fiercely. As if daring the world to question it.

[little-jana]

"Time, Space and Love"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: nerdy rambling, inaccurate Doctor Who facts, kissing

Words: 1.8k

Summary: Spencer takes his girlfriend to a Doctor Who convention, and she absolutely adores how excited he gets about his favorite things.

a/n: This was requested by anon! I apologize for any inaccurate doctor who facts! Enjoy!

You weren’t sure what was more entertaining—the Doctor Who convention itself or Spencer Reid in his element.

The second you walked through the convention center doors, he lit up like a kid in a candy store, his hazel eyes practically sparkling as he took in the crowd of cosplayers, booths filled with memorabilia, and life-sized replicas of the TARDIS.

“You know, Doctor Who first aired on November 23, 1963, the day after President Kennedy was assassinated,” he started, practically vibrating with excitement as he laced his fingers with yours. “The show was meant to be an educational sci-fi series, using time travel to teach kids about history and science.”

You grinned, squeezing his hand. “Spence, you’ve barely been here five minutes, and you’re already in full professor mode.”

His cheeks flushed. “Sorry! I just… I love this stuff.”

“I know,” you said, adoring the way his whole face lit up. “And I love how much you love it.”

His hand tightened around yours as he pulled you toward one of the booths. The display was filled with sonic screwdrivers, replica TARDIS keys, and various versions of the Doctor’s famous scarves and bowties. Spencer picked up a Fourth Doctor scarf, running his fingers over the soft wool.

“This is screen accurate,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “The original scarf was made by Begonia Pope in the ‘70s, and legend has it that she was given too much yarn, so she just used all of it.”

You giggled, watching as he handled the scarf with such care. “You should get it.”

He hesitated. “Really? I mean, I don’t usually—”

“Spencer, you’re literally the biggest Doctor Who fan here. You deserve the scarf.”

His lips twitched in amusement, but he finally let the vendor ring it up. The moment he draped it around his neck, he looked so happy that your heart melted.

The day only got better from there. You followed Spencer through the convention, listening to him ramble about everything from Gallifreyan lore to the science behind the show’s theories. You didn’t care that half of it went over your head—you just loved watching him talk about something he was so passionate about.

When you finally dragged him away, it was to join a Q&A panel with past Doctor Who actors. You settled into your seats, and as the panelists spoke, Spencer whispered little tidbits of trivia in your ear. Normally, you might have hushed him, but here—here, where his passion was on full display—you let him talk. You let yourself soak in every word.

After the panel, you made your way to a life-size TARDIS replica. Spencer’s fingers trembled with excitement as he touched the blue wooden door. “It’s bigger on the inside,” he murmured, and you knew in that moment that this was magic for him.

In front of a full-size TARDIS replica, complete with flashing lights and the iconic VWORP VWORP sound effect, Spencer immediately pulled you inside, his excitement palpable.

“Okay, so in theory, if time travel was possible, it would likely involve some form of closed timelike curves, which are solutions to Einstein’s field equations—”

You reached up and kissed his cheek, stopping him mid-ramble. “I love you.”

He blinked, momentarily stunned, then softened. “I love you too.”

You laughed, looping your arms around his neck. “You know, I think I finally get why you love Doctor Who so much.”

“Oh?” His hands rested on your waist, tilting his head in curiosity.

“It’s about adventure, discovery… and love.” You smiled, pressing your forehead to his. “Kinda reminds me of you.”

Spencer’s breath hitched slightly, and for once, he was at a loss for words. Instead, he just kissed you, slow and sweet, right there inside the TARDIS.

“You know,” you said softly, reaching up to adjust his scarf, “I think the Doctor would love you.”

Spencer blinked down at you, taken aback. “Me?”

You nodded. “Yeah. You’re brilliant, and kind, and you see the universe in a way no one else does. If anyone deserves a ride in the TARDIS, it’s you.”

His throat bobbed, and he leaned down and kissed you again, right there in front of the TARDIS, surrounded by fellow fans. It was soft, reverent, filled with the same wonder he had for time and space itself.

When he pulled back, his cheeks were pink. “I think this might be the best day ever.”

And for that moment, time really did seem to stand still.

[yanderenightmare]

2023 collection part two

July

BNHA—Yandere captor Deku and all his selfish imposing ways:

♡ SELFISH

BNHA—Shigaraki finds his soulmate:

♡ FATE CAN BE A BTICH

JJK—Naoya x cureless maid reader:

♡ PROPOSAL GIFT

BNHA—Alpha Bakugou mating his terrified Omega reader:

♡ Five Steps for Alphas Mating Omegas

BNHA—Poly wolf-boys Bakugo and Deku with a bunny reader in heat:

♡ HEATED

HQ!!—Bully Tsukishima helps you study:

♡ DINKERBELL

JJK—Mahito discovers his carnal urges:

♡ PLAYTHING

JJK—How scary is yandere captor Gojo:

♡ SCARY

JJK—How strict husband Naoya is with his little wife:

♡ LUCKY BRIDE

JJK—Sukuna making terrified reader sit in his lap:

♡ SCARY-HOT

JJK—Sukuna tells you his real name:

♡ FORGIVEN

August

JJK—Cult leader Geto takes advantage of one of his devotees:

♡ MONKEY

JJK—Geto likes seeing you cry:

♡ DACROPHILIA

September

JJK—Toji was paid to kill you but decided to take you instead:

♡ BARGAIN SALE

JJK—Toji fucking his captive darling:

♡ smutty drabble

BNHA—Yandere Shigaraki roofying his cheerleader crush at a party:

♡ CHEERS

JJK—Cockwarming Mahito while he reads you horror stories:

♡ SCAREDY-CAT

BNHA—Deku terrorizes his ex-girlfriend:

♡ GREEN PAISLEY

BNHA—Parole officer Bakugou accepts your bribe:

♡ OUR LITTLE SECRET

BNHA—Jock bully Bakugou fucks nerdy reader:

♡ SECRET OBSESSION

BNHA—Bakugou likes his hopeless classmate:

♡ COOKING CLUB

JJK—Yandere Yuta x kidnapped reader:

♡ SAFE

BNHA—Shigaraki is all about the tits:

♡ TITTIES

JJK—Gojo and Geto x assistant supervisor:

♡ SUIT

Misogynist boyfriend keeps you captive:

♡ A SHITTY MOVIE

October

JJK—Sukuna with his beloved before he became a demon:

♡ SPIDERLILLY

BNHA—Douche fuckboy Deku and his biggest fan:

♡ FANGIRL'S DREAM

JJK—Geto x curse darling:

♡ PAYMENT

JJK—Gojo x curse darling:

♡ MEETING ♡ LIVING TOGETHER ♡ ANGST

BNHA—Shigaraki reacts to his darling developing Stockholm Syndrome:

♡ KISSES

BNHA—Overworked and touch-starved Prohero Bakugou x girlfriend reader:

♡ ONE MORE TIME?

JJK—Mahito can't transfigure you:

♡ PURE

JJK—Megumi surprisingly has game:

♡ SHAMELESS

JJK men x curse darling:

♡ CURSE DARLINGS

BNHA—Wolfboy Shigaraki buys bunny reader from a sex trafficker:

♡ DEAL

JJK—Sadist Gojo with curse darling:

♡ WEAKNESS

JJK—Mahito goes from platonic yandere to romantic yandere:

♡ PET 

Thirsty thoughts on big yanderes x tiny darlings:

♡ FUN-SIZED

JJK—Nanami comes home tattered and bloody from a job:

♡ GONE

JJK—Megumi when he’s older and looks more like Toji:

♡ THE APPLE DOESN'T FALL FAR

BNHA—Orc Enji x elf reader:

♡ ORC x ELVEN PRINCESS ♡ ORC x ELF

November

Thirsty thoughts on big yanderes x tiny darlings:

♡ GENTLE GIANT

BNHA—Fuckfriend Bakugou turns yandere:

♡ BORING

BNHA—Yandere captor Bakugou wants captive darling to be willing:

♡ WILLINGLY OR NOT

JJK—Bully Gojo teaching his little victim a lesson about who she belongs to:

♡ BULLY GOJO

JJK—Bully Gojo & Geto drugging crush:

♡ ODD…

BNHA—Reader develops Stockholm Syndrome for Dabi:

♡ PERFECT

BNHA—Incel Bakugou kidnaps reader to be his sex-puppet:

♡ TOUCH

JJK—Poly Gojo and Geto sharing captive darling headcanons:

♡ HOUSEWIFE

BNHA—Prohero Bakugou going yandere for childhood friend and coworker:

♡ EMPTY SHELLS

BNHA—Hermit forest-dweller Bakugou takes lost hiker reader captive:

♡ HERMIT

JJK—Bully boyfriend Gojo roleplay and fluff:

♡ NEVER

JJK—Gojo being a pervy wierdo with strange taste:

♡ WIERDO

JJK—Smug teasing boyfriend Gojo:

♡ PLAY

JJK—You didn't pay Toji's fee, so now he's coming to collect:

♡ BOUNTY

BNHA—Gross Shigaraki makes you wash him:

♡ SHOWER

Step-bro creeps on you:

♡ CREEP STEP-BRO

BNHA—Yandere sadist Shigaraki is really into BDSM:

♡ PET

BNHA—Shigaraki drugs and fucks Dabi's pretty girlfriend:

♡ GOODIE TWO SHOES

JJK—Sex therapist Nanami being pervy with his patient:

♡ SEX THERAPY ♡ SEQUAL kinda

Orc master loves making a cum-slut out of his pretty elf slave:

♡ ORC x ELF ♡ ORC x ELF

Punished for trying to run away from your yandere captor:

♡ PUNISHED

JJK—Ex-boyfriend Sukuna fucks you at a party:

♡ EX

BNHA—Poly Proheroes Bakugo and Deku blackmails criminal reader:

♡ STREET SCUM

JJK—The Itadoris all living together in a run-down house:

♡ SHAMELESS

BNHA—Dabi has new cock-piercings he wants to try out:

♡ ARMED AND READY

December

BNHA—Soldier Hawks & Dabi knock on your door and expect to be fed:

♡ THE QUARTERING ACT

JJK—Mahito is like a nosy roommate:

♡ PRACTICE

JJK—Arranged marriage with Geto, but he shares you with Gojo:

♡ ARRANGED MARRIAGE

Yandere kidnapper softly nonconning darling:

♡ SOFT NONCON

BNHA—Incel Shigaraki crushes on the pretty store clerk at the comic/game shop:

♡ CUSTOMER SERVICE

Colleague crushing on reader in office au:

♡ CUT TO THE CHASE

JJK—Sorceror reader teasing imprisoned Sukuna:

♡ INSUFFERABLE

JJK—Alpha Gojo teasing Omega reader:

♡ SCARED?

Strict yandere captor hates when you curse:

♡ FILTHY

BNHA—Shiggy and Dabi share a darling:

♡ PULLED LEFT AND RIGHT

BNHA—Shigaraki is the worst BNHA yandere:

♡ FILTHY

Yandere kidnapper takes your virginty:

♡ VIRGINITY

JJK—Sukuna gatekeeps you:

♡ CHASTITY BELT

BNHA—Alpha Bakugou figures out why he bullies Omega reader:

♡ LESSON ♡ HEAT

JJK—Gojo is too late to make you his:

♡ SOMEONE ELSE

JJK—Yandere Gojo fighting your man for your hand:

♡ DUEL

Your strict teacher fucks your throat raw in detention:

♡ DETENTION

♡ 2023 COLLECTION PART ONE ♡ ALL MASTERLISTS

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 1: Xenophilia/Oviposition

Warnings: 18+ smut, dry humping, dirty talk about alien sex

Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie tells you why alien sex is so much better. Maybe he can even show you.

A/N: Decided to join kinktober fun because why not so I’ll be posting to catch up . Posting something risky and weird on the main so lemme know what yall think

You’ve known Eddie to be quite stranger ever since the day you met. It was evident considering the differences in your friend circles. He is a pop culture nerd and you’re the popular cheerleader. Somehow, his weird vibes were able to pull you in, unafraid of the odd rumors associated with him. Hell, you took it as a challenge then. But you’d soon come to fall in love with one another, appreciating the differences as it made teaching each other all the more exciting.

But you’d say the best part of being with Eddie is that neither of you had to hide any of your most intimate and sometimes down-right bizarre secrets from one another.

Like when Eddie learned of your secretly nerdy enjoyment of stargazing and tracking celestial events, he’d purchased a telescope for you where he’d spent the night listening to you explain away the galaxy. And like as of now, when you learned of your boyfriend’s alien sex fantasies while watching the new Alien movie.

You’d noticed the way he shifted in his seat during the movie, adjusting himself in his jeans. You playfully questioned him and he was a mess of stutters and stammers.

“It’s fucked, I know,” He says, avoiding your eyes and twisting a lone ring around his thick finger. “Bet you think I’m a real fucking freak.”

“I mean, I do think you’re a freak,” You say, bringing his face back up to yours. “But that’s exactly what I like. So…if you could have alien sex…how exactly does that work?”

“W-well, there are like some sex toys to make it happen.”

“And the whole egg implanting thing? Is that like when you creampie?” You ask excitedly.

His cheeks grow redder, coughing in embarrassment. “No—So like there are these gelatin egg kits that you can purchase at a sex shop. And they’d get deposited inside through sex and would eventually melt inside you—o-or any person for that matter not just you, of course. I’ll just use us as an example for clarification. But it’s only a fake scenario. Totally not real. For shit and giggles. Hypothe—

“I get it, babe,” You impatiently interrupt. “Get on with it.”

“Right,” He swallows. “So, imagine me wearing this cock sleeve thing that’ll look pretty gnarly because it’ll look kind of like a blue tentacle with all these ridges and bumps—

You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “Oddly specific.”

“Y-Yeah but it’s only to help with the visuals. Not because I have one. Psssh, what?” He says with a anxious high-pitched tone, eyes shifting side to side.

“Mhm,” You say, moving from your spot on the couch to sit in his lap. “Anyway, so back to you naked and wearing that little toy. Will the gelatin eggs be in it already?”

“They would. Then, I’d have to lube up the toy so you can take it. I’d get real nice and slick to the point where it’s dripping like slime just so we’re on the safe side.” He says, letting his hands glide up your thigh, lifting your skirt a little higher.

“Ooo, it’s that big?” You gasp, rocking back and forth against his growing erection. Every now and then, the tip would slip either between your clothed wet core or your soft thighs.

“Uh-huh,” His face in your neck, planting light kisses. “Or maybe you’re just that tight.” He emphasizes the last word while gripping and kneading the inner fat of your thighs.

“Then, what happens?” You mewl.

“Then, I’d stick it deep, deep, deep inside you.” He groans into your ear.

“Would you still be able to feel my warm walls around you? Feel clenching around you so you’d stay inside me?”

“That toy is specifically meant to give you pleasure,” He breathes hotly. “No, I won’t get to feel your tight, wet pussy directly around me. But I’d get pleasure enough seeing your face when I plant my seeds in you. You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you, babygirl?”

“Yes, fuck, why do I want that so badly?” You take his hand to place over one breast. Through the thin fabric of your shirt and bra, he quickly locates your pebbled nipple and plucks at it repeatedly.

“Because I just taught you how great monster sex can be.” His teeth sinks into your earlobe.

“You mean there’s more than just alien sex?”

“Mhm, I can show you.” He says, loving that he’s corrupting a girl like yourself.

“Yes, please, master. Show me more.”

[gabriellessworldd]

Do i make you nervous?

shy, nerdy Armin x bold black fem reader

wc- 1.4k!

☆ warnings ☆: js a lil smth for my armin girlies! very light smut nth too crazy 18+, oral (f receive, you sit on his face 😛), armin is obsessed with you, so when you asked him to be your tutor he thanked his lucky stars.

"Excuse me, Miss L/n, could you stay after class, there's a pressing matter." your chemistry professor Mrs. Clark announced whilst sending you a look after she graded your assignment. "Yea i'll stay." you mumbled opening up your macbook, checking the damage, '13% no. fucking. way.' sure you weren't the best student but it was never this bad.

Class was finally over and honestly you wanted nothing more than to go back to your apartment and take a long ass nap. "Miss L/n, don't keep me waiting! Come here please." honestly you didn't want to hear what she had to say, but if you wanted to pass this class you would have to work your ass off. "Yes ma'am, what's the matter?" you were trying to be polite and sweet so maybe she'd have mercy on you but, that plan didn't work.

After 25 minutes of her lecturing you about your grades, she finally offered some help. "I would suggest you get a tutor, it could give you that extra push you need. Hearing the same stuff from me everyday clearly isn't helping you." She looks at you and shrugs, "You can see yourself out now, enjoy your afternoon." As much as she annoyed you, your professor was right, and you had the perfect tutor in mind.

Armin Arlert. Not only was he smart as fuck but he also had a gorgeous face. It made perfect sense, if that pretty boy had been teaching you chemistry you probably would've had perfect attendance and 100's on all your assignments. You saw him walking off campus and rushed after him, you weren't sure if he would help, but what's the harm in asking?

"Hey Armin!" he turned around looking for who was calling him then he spotted you waving him down. 'is y/n looking for me?' he felt his stomach do an olympic level gymnastic routine (😜) and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was captivated by you, there was just something so perfect about you. The way you laughed, your voice, your beautiful eyes, your entire being had him enthralled.

He walked over to you, "h-hey y/n" he tried not to get too nervous but the small voice crack gave him away. "hi! i was wondering if you could do me a favor?" you batted your eyelashes and smiled brightly. "o-oh! y-yea of course, what's the matter?" he said it almost too quickly, Armin was just glad he could talk to you. You studied his face, it was perfect, the way his glasses sat on his face, the pink tint on his lightly freckled cheeks, even his pink plump lips. 'wait, why is he blushing?' you smiled at the thought, this would be so easy.

"s-so you need m-me to tutor y-you?" he stumbled over his words, an hour and thirty minutes alone with you, luck really was on his side today. "Yup, that's it! Think we could start today?" you checked the time, it was 3:47. "You could come to my house now if you're free! There aren't any distractions and it would be just me nd you!" There was no way Armin was turning this down, "yes that works for me." 'fuck yea i finally made it through a sentence without stuttering' he smiled softly showing his teeth, and your knees nearly buckled.

You opened your door, the scent of vanilla and strawberries clouded Armin. Your place was comfy nd clean, "You can sit at the table over there, I need to shower quickly if you don't mind!" He nodded his head 'i can't believe im in y/n's house right now' he pulled out his textbook nd laptop, not that he would really need it.

"Thank you so much for waiting!" you walked out of your room in your pj's and matching house slippers. "You want anything to drink? I've got dr pepper, pineapple fanta, nd water." Armin watched you walk to the kitchen, your small shorts shrinking with every step, "u-uhm dr pepper is fine. thanks." You sat back down with the two drinks, your boobs bounced slightly in your exposed cheetah print push up bra. you noticed Armin's face heat up and slightly turn pink, you decided to tease him.

you leaned over the table and showing more cleavage and placed your hand on his arm, "Do you mind explaining this to me? I don't get it" Armin tried not to make eye contact with you and took a sip of his drink, but when he finally gave in your seductive eyes almost killed him. He choked on the dr pepper, "um y-yea it's dea-" "Wait.. do i make you nervous?" you cut him off, not caring about chemistry anymore, that assignment could wait.

You scooted closer to Armin and leaned in close to his face, "you're a very pretty boy Armin, did you know that?" You looked at his lips and back at his eyes, "n-no I've ne-never-" You went to kiss him and he immediately took the chance. His soft hands instantly squeezed your tits, and you ran your fingers through his soft blonde hair. The kiss was sweet but it was also passionate, it felt desperate like you both needed more. Armin slid down the straps to your top and bra, freeing your boobs. His soft hands pinched and rolled your nipples, you softly moaned into his mouth and he slipped his tongue in. But he still wanted more.

Armin pulled away from the kiss, face flushed and cheeks red, with a light sheen on his lips from your lip gloss. He lowered his mouth to your right nipple, slipping it in while still playing with the left. Your hands were still tangled in his hair, tugging at his locks. Armin left hickeys all over your chest, wanting to mark you, he needed to know that this wasn't a deluded dream and that you were right there letting him touch you. He looked up at you while sliding your tit out of his mouth with a pop, "c-can we go to your room?" his face was filled with lust, he looked so divine. "of course" you stood up and grabbed his hand, leading him to your room. Armin was anxious obviously, but the was something he needed.

You laid in your bed with your legs propped up on Armin's shoulders as he sloppily ate you out. "Fuck Armin! right there please!" He sucked on your clit, he needed you to cum, he wanted to taste how sweet you were. "o-oh fuck armin, mmhm, right there" He came up, his lips covered in your arousal, " I want you to cum in my mouth y/n." He went back to sucking your clit, you felt a familiar pressure build up in the lower half of your stomach,"a-ah mm armin. That feels soo good!" You could feel yourself about to unravel as he pushed his tongue in and out of your hole. "Cmon y/n, c-cum for me, please." he felt you pulse on his tongue and pull his hair, he started getting sloppier.

Your thighs squeezed his head as you felt your high coming. "ah Armin 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you moaned out as he sucked on your clit, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes closed, mouth dangling open. You felt yourself squirt and looked down at Armin watching him lick up everything.

"Can, can you s-sit on my f-face?" He wanted you to say yes, he needed you to say yes. You looked at him puzzled, "You want me, to sit on your face?" "Yes. please y/n." You nodded your head at the blonde, Armin quickly sat down, laying down fully when he saw you stand over him. You straddled his face, not fully sitting down all the way. "Y/n sit down all the way please, I promise I'll be alright." You listened and sat down.

"o-oh fuck armin, oh my god please!" his nose rubbed your sensitive clit as he continued tongue fucking you, his groans vibrated against your core. He loved the way you moaned, it sounded so heavenly, it was his new favorite sound. You needed more, you started to slowly grind on his face, "c-can you go faster y/n please." You picked up the pace, his tongue worked wonders, it was like Armin knew exactly what you liked. "a-ah Armin! 'm too sensitive, gonna cum again" You were on cloud nine, his tongue continued the ravaging pace. "c-cum for me sweetheart." The overstimulation and sloppy licks to your clit drove you over the edge "Fuck! ah Armin!" your vision went clouded as you came down from your high. Armin was satisfied, this was all he needed, to taste every bit of you.

a/n ☆: hiiii my lovebugs!! firstly i js wanna say i'm so grateful for all the interaction with "Never get yo bitch back!" also next part will be coming soon! lmk if y'all wanna get tagged in my future projects!! (y'all like the color switch for different characters or js keep pink?)

-with lots of love, gabrielle <3

[ghostgirl-22]

heyy i literally love ur work and i’ve been seeing some posts abt this on tiktok but do u think u could write a professor!mike faist or art donaldson x student!reader and make it so he’s tutoring the reader but things go south and things get freaky 👅👅

hmm okay so i did peep the mike faist of it all but I couldn’t bring myself to go full rpf. So here’s theater professor!Mike Faist Art Donaldson. Or whatever <3

Pairing: theater professor!art (imagine these clothes but dilf!art hair lol) x afab!reader

cw: heed the warnings. NSFW, MDNI, age gap— Art is at least in his 40s reader early 20s, power imbalance— student/teacher, tw: dubcon if you squint. reader definitely wants this but also arts definitely perving. Improper use of Shakespeare. what it says in the ask.

—-

Theater professor!Art tall, a bit nerdy, he’s chronically late so he walks fast. He’s always a little flustered as he enters the theater, crossbody messenger bag slung over his shoulder, with his helmet tucked under his arm (for his scooter ride to work, he’d never ride a motorcycle…too unsafe). He wears some variation of a long sleeved button down with the sleeves rolled up, tucked into some varied color of khaki pants nearly everyday and he’s everyone’s favorite teacher. And it’s not just because the class is easy. 

Lots of students take his course who have little to no respect for the fine arts. All different majors and minors. He knows why they enroll.  He’s used to pretty girls (and boys) basically half his age sitting up front to try and get his attention and he knows what the student body says about him. He knows all about the PILF list (professors I’d like to…) he even happens to know he’s sitting quite near the top of that list. Just behind his ex Tashi Duncan who teaches classical literature and oscillating back and forth with his other ex Patrick Zweig who happens to be every business major’s favorite Economics professor. He still finds it odd that they’re dating now. Whatever. 

It’s not an easy class by the way. 

Especially not for you…

Intro to Fine Arts is impressively difficult. You’re pretty sure you’ve probably become Shakespeare's biggest hater over the course of the semester. You don’t understand a word of it and what’s worse is that you don’t care. 

Art can tell. 

Usually it wouldn’t bother him. He doesn’t care if his students don’t like Shakespeare. He’s usually not involved in his students' lives at all. He’s never crossed that line. He’s not that kind of professor.

But for some reason you bother him. God. You get under his skin.

Maybe it’s because you’re so loud with your wrong opinions. You’ll argue that things mean what they don’t mean just for the fun of it. And with such confidence that you have some of your classmates believing you more than him and he has a fucking PhD in this stuff. Then you’ll sit there smug and self satisfied because you won the argument. 

It’s frustrating.  

You’re frustrating. 

And not that he notices at all. But you are hot…in a filthy, carnal sort of way. Your lips always wet with gloss, your clothes too tight, showing off way too much skin. And he’s not looking… but honestly you know the theater is always cold. You really should start wearing padded bras if your shirts are gonna be so tight.  Maybe with more support so you don’t jiggle as much during the warm up exercises that he chooses for that specific purpose. Actually you could stand to cover up a lot more, all over. 

But thats not why he made you stay late for his office hours. Really. Its not. He just needs to tutor you a little. One on one. He can’t have the other students getting wrong information from you.

But even now, when you show up in his cramped windowless office, perched on the other side of his desk which is littered with playbooks, you have him stressed. you’ve been wearing that dress all day and honestly it's just too short.  If you bent over his desk, even a little bit, he’d have a full view of whatever you’ve got on underneath. He shifts in his seat. It's just inappropriate. 

God. He should focus on what he can teach you.“Okay try it from right here. And stop being so literal.”

You roll your eyes and glance at the Much Ado About Nothing playbook at the line where his finger is pointed. “I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap…” You laugh. “How can you die in a lap?”

“I told you the words we say today had different meanings in Shakespeare's time.”

“Well no kidding, i know that.”

Art scoffs, you know everything. 

“I know we don't say thy and thou and… thent…anymore.” You continue.

”We never said thent.“ Art points out.

“What I don’t get is why any of this matters?” You keep going as if he didn’t speak.

You don’t know why you’re so combative with Professor Donaldson. You think you just like to get him worked up so you can make him remember you. You love watching his jaw tighten, his skin flush, hearing the way he passionately defends old dead playwrights. It turns you on actually. Not the dead playwrights but the way he lights up. Little bits of arrogance peeking through that sweet “aww shucks” persona everyone loves. You think it turns him on too. It makes you wet. Sometimes during class you press your legs together and slip your hand between your thighs just to ease the tension a little. Keeping your gaze fixed on him, while you tease yourself. You wish you could touch yourself right now, watching his Adam’s apple bob while his soft gaze hardens. 

“It matters because the themes matter. It matters because humanity matters.” He explains trying to keep his tone measured.

“So find new themes, this guy’s been dead for a thousand years.” Also wrong.

Art can’t believe what he's hearing. And it doesn’t help that you seem flustered, breathing harder, chest rising and falling, the thin fabric of that short dress showing him everything… fuck…you might as well be naked. He’s losing his patience.

“Get up.”

“Why?”

“I'm going to show you what it means.”

You look like you want to argue (pre-law you always want to argue) but you get up from your chair anyway. “Okay?”  

“Come here…” he pats his thighs. “I think you’d learn it better if I show you.” He says softly. He knows he shouldn’t… knows it’s inappropriate. But you really need to understand what words mean. He’s just teaching you, really. 

You don’t even hesitate. Settling right on top of him, your back to his chest. 

“Good girl. Now grab the play.”

You take a breath and wiggle a bit your ass grinding along his swollen cock. God you knew he fucking liked it.

“Don’t worry about that...” He says lightly. It’s not his fault, your dress is too short, making him hard for no fucking reason. He needs to put his hands somewhere and your bare thighs are right there. He sets his palms down and feels the way your breathing changes. 

��Mmkay now read it again.” 

His voice is soft and directly in your ear now, it makes you shiver. You wiggle your hips again. 

“Go on,” he coaxes. 

“I will live in thy heart…” you feel his hand move up to your chest. 

You chew on your lip, wiggling some more as he cups you, before slipping it just inside your dress to play with your nipple. He squeezes it gently, before circling it with his fingertips. “What’s next?” 

“D-die in thy lap,” you swallow. 

“That’s a little more complicated, isn’t it?” He moves his other hand down your thigh. He really shouldn’t be doing this in his office. The door is closed but it isn’t locked. Anyone could walk in and catch you both. God it shouldn’t make him harder. He knows he’s not gonna stop, he’s finally had a taste of you,  felt one of your full perky tits, your perfect ass wiggling along his swollen cock. He’s just itching for more. He eases his way down along your inner thighs and you start to open up for him, the little dress riding further up your thighs. He presses two fingers against your panties, already soaked through and clinging to your warm cunt. 

He takes a sharp breath. “Fuck, it’s so wet for me already…maybe its not that complicated.” He eases your panties to the side and slips his long thick fingers inside you, you can feel the folds of your pussy beating your pulse around his intrusion and you moan. 

“Shh I know…” he hums. “Fuck its so easy, huh? You're so ready. Do you get it now?”  He’s rubbing gentle circles inside you, the pressure and intensity of the sensation rising and falling as he moves closer and closer to your clit. “Or do I need to fuck you?” 

You moan and open wider, hooking your feet behind his ankles. Hips starting to rock as your head lulls back against his shoulder. 

“I still don’t get it Professor Donaldson,” you whine. “I think I need more guidance.”

“Mmhm… I can tell.” He presses little kisses along your throat while you ride his fingers.

“Oh fuck..” you moan, voice pitchy and loud. “professor, it feels so, so good.”

“Shhh,” Art breathes working them a little faster. “You have to be a good girl and keep it down unless we’re talking about school work.” 

“Yes sir.” You gasp. 

Fuck. He can’t pretend he hasn’t thought about doing this to you. He thinks about it every day, you’re so goddam tempting, but he was trying to control himself, trying so hard to be good. He is good. He’s not doing anything wrong. He’s just teaching you… helping you understand Shakespeare. He should probably replace his fingers, just to really drive it home… so to speak. 

He unzips while trying to keep your squirming to a minimum. He’s so close. By the time he sinks into your heated cunt he nearly blacks out for how good it feels. “Holy shit, so fucking tight for me,” he grunts as you moan for him. “Fuck… start again. Read the whole scene.”

Your hands are all shaky gripping his thighs as you try to focus on Much Ado About Nothing. You can feel him thrusting in and out of your dripping cunt as you bounce on his lap. All while trying to recite the stupid scene. He whispers “good girl” between each line. Humming his soft little grunts of pleasure in your ear. God this is insane.

“I will l-live… I w-will live in thy… in thy heart…” you’re practically panting, his fingers playing with your clit while he fucks you.

“Mmhm.”

“Fuck professor… I’m so…. ‘m gonna cum.” 

“Almost finished, come on,” he pushes. 

“In thy heart,” you moan as the dam suddenly bursts and you make a mess all over his lap. 

“Fuck, oh fuck,” He gasps… pushing you off in a hurry as he starts to spill. You watch as he jerks himself through climax, some of it splattering on your dress and the old wooden desk. 

Even after he’s help cleaned you up, he’s still pretty sure you learned nothing. “Die in thy lap…like Le petit mort… the little death” he tries, but you never studied French and you’re not particularly impressed by the French either. 

And maybe he feels a little bad that after all that you still don’t get it. You’ll never be a true artist in any sense of the word, but after a few more evening tutoring sessions you definitely come to appreciate how good Art can make you feel so… a win is a win. 

(Kinda sucks i know but its x reader and i wrote it at midnight after recovering from a migraine. Cut me some slack y’all)