#Double Clicking her mouse

[league-of-simps]

𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧!𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 - Part One | Part Two

➛ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Tomura was researching how to flirt with girls but gets sidetracked.

➛ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: masturbation, edging, feminine pronouns

➛ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 463

➛ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: The scenario made me giggle but atp I just need to write an actual fic 'cause it's a follow up to the last Virgin!Tomura piece I wrote. This is barely edited - be gentle.

Virgin!Tomura binge-watching romance animes in an attempt to find the best way to approach you. No, no, no. Most of these required touching. Hand holding, wall leaning, brushing hair out of the girl's face... biting, for some reason. With one hand, he scrolled through episodes of random romance scenes, trying to picture the two of you in these scenarios, while the other scratched idly at his neck. None of these were what he wanted to do to get his message across.

Virgin!Tomura turning his research from romance anime to animated eroges - something he was somewhat familiar with. It was a video game. He knew video games. What he didn't realize was that the eroge that he had chosen to play at random had a character that looked eerily similar to you. Tomura nearly decayed his mouse when he saw that character come on screen. His eyes rake over the character as he moved the mouse to the "unclothe" option, and then they widen as the character was bare before him.

Virgin!Tomura finding the "scene selector" option as fast as possible and clicking the first option. Heat rushed to his face as he watched your doppelganger ride the faceless main character that he had named after himself. He clicked the next scene and his cock twitched in his pants as he watched her suck his character's dick. Muffled moans poured from his computer's speakers but he didn't have the strength to turn them down. He was transfixed. This could be you and him.

Virgin!Tomura hastily jerking his pants and boxers down until his cock sprung free into the cold air of his room. He gripped himself tightly with one hand and navigated the mouse to the next scene button with the other. An involuntary groan escaped him as he watched your double pump his character's cock slowly. He wondered how you would do that... were you fast? Slow? Teasing? Would you use two hands? Your boobs? He increased the speed of the scene.

Virgin!Tomura not even getting a full stroke in before warm ropes of cum cover his fist. He got off to just thinking about what you would do to him.

Virgin!Tomura growing frustrated with his early release and fucking himself faster until his hips were bucking into his fist. He can't cum that early if he was with you - when he was with you - so he stopped just shy of his next release, his thumb hovering over the slit on the head of his throbbing cock.

Virgin!Tomura spending nearly fifteen minutes edging himself until he accidentally clicked the next scene. This angle looked too much like you as your double rode him with her back to the screen. He couldn't hold back any longer. He spilled onto his already soiled hand in one wave of pleasure while another load arched upward and splattered onto the desk in front of him in another. He was panting by the time his cock grew soft, your name coming out in a breathy whisper. If getting this sort of release was possible by just imagining you fucking him, he wondered what it was like for you to actually be there with him.

A bunch of pixels on the screen wasn't enough.

[joonsmagicshop]

Professor Rapline

Summary: Mr. Kim is your English Literature and Poetry teacher and while he is known for being a strict teacher is he is also hot. So incredibly hot! So when he gives you an outlet for all your exam stress how can you possibly say no? Little do you realize it wont be just him you are getting pleasure from

Paring: Namjoon/Reader focused! Eventually Yoongi/Reader Hobi/Reader

Word Count: 15K

Rating: M/18+ because smut

Tags: A/U, Professor/student relationship,slow burn, flirting, pet names, Joon calls her princess Yoongi calls her Kitten, Hobi calls her baby, dirty talk, spanking, hand jobs, blow jobs, cum licking, eating out, sex, so much sex, basically she gets fucked three times in one night, choking, face fucking, power dynamics, dry humping.

Authors Note: I was possessed by a horny demon when I wrote this. This idea has been stuck in my head for months and once I started writing I didn't want to stop. This is a work of fiction and I do not recommend fucking your professors.

No one warned you about Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Jung Hoseok.

But then again, you doubted you would have believed them if they did.

It was the last semester before your time at University would be over for good, and honestly, you couldn’t wait. You were over the long nights studying, the assignments that had to be handed in on time or you would lose marks, and the group projects that were just as pointless as they were frustrating.

You had done everything you wanted to do, you went to the parties, kissed random strangers in bathrooms, and even hooked up with a few. You had a boyfriend for three months and decided it was better for you to be single and now you were ready to graduate and move on with your life.

Which found you sitting in the Academic Adviser’s office nervously shifting in your chair as you watched her go through your file. The office was painted a soft blue color and the heater was pumping out hot air on blast making the whole space dry and stuffy. As you wait, you unwound your scarf from your neck and placed it on your lap.

Her eyes met yours and she smiled softly at you.

“Well Miss Y/L/N it seems that you have a bright shining future that’s for sure. You have a wonderful file here and honors too, you must be proud.” She said beaming at you as you crossed your legs nervously and unzipped your coat.

You understood that it was the dead of winter outside but did it have to be so incredibly stuffy in here?

“Thank you. So I’m on track to graduate? Everything looks good?” You ask leaning forward in the chair.

“Well here’s the thing…” She trails off as she pushes her glasses back on her nose and scans the computer again.

Your heart drops.

“As I said bright and shining future for sure but you are missing just one credit. If you are unable to fit another class in this semester you would be unable to graduate.” She says with a frown as you see her eyes scan the computer to double check as your heart drops down to your boots.

There is no way.

You spent four years busting your butt, there was no way you were going to stay any longer than you had to.

“I can fit another class in! Which class do I need?” You ask in a panic as she clicks some more on the mouse and you watch her concentrate on the screen.

“Well, the good news is you just need one more elective class. The bad news is most of them are filled up…well. Except…” Her voice trails off again as you squirm in your seat, panic taking over.

“Whatever it is I’ll take it!” You respond eagerly.

“Miss Y/L/N it’s English literature and poetry with Mr. Kim.” She says in a serious tone as her eyes finally leave her monitor to look at you.

“Okay fine sign me up!” You say as you lean so far forward you are almost pushed right against her desk.

“Miss Y/L/N I understand you want to graduate on time but you must know. His class is notoriously known for being… quite difficult. I never want to slander a teacher but Mr Kim is very serious about his job and a lot of students come to me trying to drop his class.” She says staring at you with a serious look on her face.

You had no idea who Mr Kim was. The campus was so big you hardly knew where half the rooms were let alone half the teachers. But you had to graduate on time. You were not about to spend more money to have to go back to school for one elective course. There was just no way.

“That’s fine sign me up.” You say boldly as she frowns at you and types away on her computer. Well-manicured nails fly along the keyboard.

“Only if you are sure, you can always change your mind.” She says as you nod and she clicks something, you assume it’s to enroll you into his class.

"Okay, you are set. The class is on Wednesday nights at six pm. His classroom is 0994B which is in the basement.” She says as she pushes her glasses off her face to stare at you again.

“If you have any trouble at all please let me know.” She says as you nod and gather your things. You wrap your scarf around your neck and wave goodbye, leaving the stuffy office to head to the textbook shop to grab your book, having no idea what you just agreed to.

.........................

Two days later you found yourself searching the basement for the classroom you are looking for. While the University is beautiful with a rich history the basement is spooky and dark, especially in January when the nights are long and you rarely get sunlight.

Just as you approach the door you see a paper taped to it and you frown.

Basement heater is broken. Mr Kim’s class moved to 0294.

You let out a frustrated sigh and begin to ascend the stairs, hiking your messenger bag up on your shoulder as you climb.

The second floor is much nicer than the basement and you luckily find the new classroom with ease. You slip inside and take stock of the students. The lecture hall is large and set up like a theater with a podium at the front and the seats ascending upwards. You see most of the front rows are already taken with giggling girls.

You made your way to the back and plopped your things down in a seat slightly to the right of where the empty podium sat. You pulled out your phone to make sure it was on silent and as you took out your textbook and pens you couldn’t help but overhear the girls in front of you talking.

“That’s not a reason to take this class! I’m not carrying you though because you only signed up for this class because Mr. Kim is hot.” A blonde girl teased her friend as her friend shushed her and giggled.

“Come on that’s why people try and survive his class. He’s such a hardass but so nice to look at it makes up for it!” Her friend teased as both girls dissolved into giggles.

You wondered what the hell they were talking about. Mr Kim was hot? You had many English teachers throughout your years and they all were mostly the same type of person. Lanky, nerdy, either a tortured poet or a Shakespeare lover. You never pictured your teacher to be attractive at all and now thoughts of what he could look like clouded your mind.

But it didn’t take long for you to find out.

The second the door opened the entire class fell silent.

No one warned you about Mr. Kim.

But you’re sure if they did you wouldn’t believe them

Hell, you didn’t believe the girls who were sitting in front of you until you saw it with your own two eyes.

He was tall and handsome with blonde hair slicked back from his forehead and eyes narrowed as he looked through the crowd of students. When his eyes met yours you shivered but he didn’t linger as he made long strides towards the podium and set his brown briefcase down on the floor.

He took out a small laptop and set it up as you watched him in fascination. He was no doubt handsome and even though he had not spoken a word he had already commanded the class to be quiet.

It was quite impressive.

He took his time fiddling with the laptop as the class stayed deathly quiet. Once he got everything hooked up and the projector running he finally addressed the class.

“Hi I’m Mr Kim and I’ll be teaching you English lit and poetry.”

And then he smiled

When he smiled two beautiful dimples appeared on his cheeks and you knew you were undeniably screwed.

Not only was his class notorious for being difficult, but it also didn’t help he was drop-dead gorgeous.

Well, shit.

Your small crush on Mr. Kim lasted well in February. As the ground started to thaw and the days were very slowly becoming longer you spent most of your time buried in a book trying not to drown in your coursework.

While Mr. Kim was in fact the hottest man you had ever seen, the rumors were true and he was also a hardass about his subject.

By the second week, twelve people had dropped his class. He didn’t seem to mind or even acknowledge it, he just kept teaching.

By the time the first month was over twenty people had left and the class had once again been moved. This time to a small lecture hall on the same floor that was a lot more cozy and less intimidating than the original one.

You hardly noticed how many people dropped the class come March as midterm exams were approaching and you were too worried about your grades and future to worry about anyone else.

Your crush on Mr. Kim even took a backseat as you spent most of your time in the library, wistfully staring out the window at the sunny days wishing you were outside instead of in a stuffy old library going over poems written by people who had passed away ages ago.

In the last week of March, you got a break. Mr. Kim was teaching about Robert Frost and going over the poem “Nothing Gold Can Stay.” You were lucky enough to study that poem in high school so you sneakily took out your psychology homework and began to work on that, nodding and making occasional eye contact with Mr. Kim so he thought you were paying attention.

Lucky for you, you had finished most of the essay during Mr. Kim’s lecture. Unlucky for you class had ended five minutes ago and everyone had left the lecture hall, leaving you sitting there alone typing while Mr. Kim packed up his stuff.

You were so absorbed in your work you didn’t notice his hard gaze on you, how his eyebrow quirked when he saw how concentrated you were, and how he let out a low sigh as he made his way up the steps to approach you.

You did however notice when he was about two feet away from you and you gasped and slammed your laptop lid shut in alarm

“Miss Y/N.” He said smoothly as he took a seat in the aisle opposite yours and smiled softly at you.

You felt a blush appear on your cheeks as you hastily tried to come up with an excuse.

“Please Y/N tell me what you were working on. I know you aren’t typing that much about Robert Frost.” He teases as he stretches out his legs and you can see his slacks stretch under the pressure of his thick thighs.

“I-Mr. Kim, I’m so sorry. I…well I studied Robert Frost in high school and I have this big psychology essay that is due and I just wanted to get a head start on it.” You admit shyly as you shove your laptop in your messenger bag and gather your things.

You stand up to leave but a strong hand stops you.

“My class and Psych? I’m impressed.” He says as his hand leaves your arm but you can still feel the heat from where he touched you, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Well, I… yeah I need Phych and I needed one more class to graduate so I picked yours.” You admitted as you stood there in front of him.

“And the Academic advisor let you do this? Take both?” He asks as he remains seated and gestures to the chair you vacated. Knowing he wasn’t going to kick you out of his class you graciously sat down, placing your bag on the floor.

“I…well I kind of didn’t give her a choice. I don’t want to come back for a year to take one course.” You admit.

He smiles at you, dimples present and you feel pleasure bloom in your chest.

“That’s very admirable of you. I’m sure she warned you about me and my class and you still decided to go for it? I like that.” He says.

You nod not sure of what to say.

“What do you want to be when you get out of here? What are your goals?” He asks you breaking the silence.

“I want to be a high school teacher. Educate the future generations.” You say shyly as his smile grows bigger.

You smile back at him.

“Ah. Very admirable. A girl after my own heart.” He teases and you feel yourself blush at his praise.

You both lapse into silence and you feel your heart hammer against your chest. He is staring at you softly and you slowly reach out to play with the hem of your skirt, hands desperate to do something so you don’t reach out for him.

“I’m sorry for keeping you late Sir. I should let you go.” You say as you gather your things and almost miss the way his Adam’s apple bobs when you call him sir.

You don’t waste any time and make your way down the stairs, leaving Mr. Kim still in the seat watching you go.

“Y/N?” He calls back for you as you stop and turn to face him. He looks so nonchalant sitting there, and so incredibly handsome you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying something stupid.

“I'll speak to Mr. Min about your caseload and see if he can ease off a bit. He can be kind of a hardass.” He says as he stands up and stretches and you can’t help but sneak a peak when his cream-colored sweater rises to show a flash of taunt skin.

Fuck.

“Oh, Mr. Kim you don’t have to it’s okay.” You say flushed at his generosity as he makes his way towards you to gather his things.

“It’s okay I have to talk to him about something anyway. I won’t mention your name I’ll just tell him to lay off a bit.” He assures you as you nod.

You wish him a good night and make your way out of the classroom. Your hands grip the straps of your messenger bag tightly as you hurry across campus to your car. By the time you get into your car, you are sure the flush on your face is gone, but the butterflies in your stomach are fluttering around like crazy.

April.

The dreaded month of April.

April was prep for exam season and you were once again buried in your books. Spring was finally here and when it wasn’t raining buckets you spent your time outside, spreading your books on the picnic tables as you got to work catching up on things you had to finish before exams.

After your essay for Mr. Min, his class did seem to get easier. You never asked Mr. Kim about it, instead, you pretended to be oblivious about the whole thing though you did have a feeling a conversation was had because you noticed Mr. Min staring at you more than usual as he taught.

Every free hour was spent studying or revising or writing essays so you hardly had time to think of that day with Mr. Kim. How gorgeous he looked sitting across from you, and how his cream-colored sweater fit his body perfectly and showed off his sculpted chest and broad shoulders.

You only let these thoughts run ramped late at night, when the stress of the day caught up to you and you wondered what would happen if he did lean in and kiss you. How soft his full lips would feel against yours. Would he be soft with you or would he be in control and command you just as he did that first day when he walked into the room?

Often times you would let your hand wander into your underwear and you would circle your clit. Imagining it was his strong deft fingers instead of your own. You would imagine him pinning you against the wooden podium and pulling down your pants to finger you.

How his huge body would cage you in and how he would whisper dirty things in your ear, his voice low and gruff as he would prep you to take his cock.

Most times you could cum around your fingers thinking of him. Wondering what it would be like to have someone as tall and handsome as Mr. Kim fucking you.

The weather was getting even warmer and your stress was at an all-time high. At this point, you lived off coffee and would often take it to class with you as you worked.

Mr. Kim was going over the structure of your final exam and as much as you tried you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open. You had slept a total of three hours last night and his late-night classes were getting to you.

You fought your body as much as you could. Trying to take notes, trying to focus but before you knew it your eyes were shut and you were snoozing softly on your textbook, face smushed cutely into the cover.

Unbeknown to you Mr. Kim had been keeping a close eye on you since your private conversation and he caught you sleeping the moment your head rested on the textbook. He bit back a smile as he continued to address the class.

You had slept for half an hour. You were awoken by a strong hand lightly shaking your arm and you looked up to see Mr. Kim staring down at you, his lips curved in a smile as you blushed with embarrassment.

“Oh my god Mr. Kim I’m so sorry I just- I don’t even know what to say this is so embarrassing and I missed most of what you said about the exam and oh my god I can’t believe I fell asleep in class what’s wrong with me!” You babbled on as you frantically shoved all your stuff in your bag and avoided eye contact with him.

You were sure he was beyond mad. A student falling asleep in his class is super disrespectful.

“Y/N deep breaths please, I don’t want you hyperventilating in my class.” He teases you with a smile as you freeze and turn to look at him.

“I am so sorry!” You cry out as you bury your face in your hands and stare at the floor.

“It’s okay really.” He says as his hands circle your wrist to pry your hands away from your red face.

His big hands engulf your wrists and you let out a shaky breath as your mind goes haywire at his soft touches.

He is staring at you with concern written all over his face and you look around, once again the classroom is empty except for the two of you.

“It’s not Mr. Min this time I swear! It’s just exams and revisions and I want to keep my honor roll so I have to work hard I haven’t been sleeping much because of all the work and I’m so so sorry!” You blurt out eyes shifting from his sharp eyes to his plush lips that are still drawn up into a smile.

He catches you staring and cocks an eyebrow

You were really in trouble now.

“Y/N you have big dreams and it’s amazing how much you are taking on. Honestly when you told me your plan and the courses you are taking I was and am very impressed. You should be proud of yourself.” He says lowly. You glance down to see his hands are still holding your wrists steady and you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat pounding against your skin.

“Thank you.” You whisper out hearing your voice echo in the empty room.

“Being an almost University graduate can be stressful and challenging.” He starts as his thumb caresses your wrist and up into your palm.

You can’t help it, you bite your lip in anticipation as his fingers work your skin soothing you but also making your heart beat faster.

“It really is. I just want to graduate and be done.” You admit shyly as his sharp eyes are locked on yours.

“I totally understand that. I remember those days. I lived off coffee and ramen.” He admits standing up from his crouch to sit on the chair right next to yours, his thick thighs bumping against your knee as he lets go of your hands to get situated.

“Mind you I wasn’t trusted in the kitchen so my roommates did most of the ramen cooking.” He teases as you giggle.

He runs a hand through his hair and pushes it back from his forehead. The tension in the room is thick and you can’t stop staring at his lips, your mind flashing to two nights ago when you came around your fingers moaning his name.

He clasps his fingers together on the table and your eyes dart down to them. He grins when he catches you staring and you blush further.

“I guess what I want to say is it’s important to study hard but also important to take breaks when you need to. Stress can do major damage to the body.” Mr. Kim advises as you nod wordlessly at him.

“What do you do for fun? That’s not schoolwork? Do you have an outlet of some kind?” He asks softly.

You were sure it was wildly inappropriate to tell him that you orgasm to relieve stress so instead you tell him a little about yourself and your life.

How your parents live a ten-minute drive from the University so you never felt the need to stay on campus. How you like to take your dog on walks when the weather is nice and how he wears a little raincoat on days when it drizzles. You tell him about your friends and how you try to get together for movie nights but you all are so swamped with school you haven’t had time.

He listens intently and soon enough you realize you are blabbing so you shut up much to his dismay.

“You sound like you have good hobbies though maybe a balancing problem. You need to work hard but also play hard too. This is University after all that’s why people party so much to get rid of all the stress from teachers like me.” He says with a laugh as you laugh along beside him.

You explain how you did go to the parties in your first year but grew out of them and he nods along in understanding.

“I get that. And with being so close to the end I get you want to rush through and graduate to get it over with but you have to find outlets to relieve all the stress. Once you get into the workforce you’ll still have this stress and even though I’ll let it slide you fell asleep in my class the workforce won’t be so gracious.”

You nod along at his words as he adjusts himself in the seat, his knee bumping yours and sending your heart racing once more.

“I am truly sorry Mr. Kim I have never fallen asleep in a class before in my life.” You admit to him, brushing your hair behind your ears.

“Ah, so I must have been boring you.” He jests which has you protesting right away.

“No not at all! I would never think that of you!”

He smiles at your words and you push your knee into his as silent reassurance.

His eyes dart down to your lips and back up again and you smirk at him.

“So what you need to do is find an outlet for all that stress and built-up frustration. Some people choose to drink, but I think you might be over that, some people choose to lift weights or run. But there are…other options you know.” He says letting his voice dip dangerously low and you stare at him in shock when he winks at you.

Is he suggesting what you think he is suggesting?

Because if he is?

How the hell do you even say no to that?!

“I-uh. I’m not sure what you mean….sir.” You say putting on your best sultry voice and watching as a slow smirk appears on his face.

So he does mean what you think he means.

Well….wow.

“You know a lot of people have….experiences in University. Great time to get to know yourself and what you want…and like.” He hints as you push your knee boldly into his and his smirk grows wider.

The tension in the room is palatable at this point and you can almost feel the want radiating off both of your bodies.

You don’t want this flirting to end so you tease him some more, seeing how far you can take it.

“Oh, I already went through all that. Too bad University boys half the time don’t know what they are doing. Such a shame I have to do it myself.”

His eyes widen and his tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips. You wink back at him and feel him once again push his knee into yours with more force.

Your body is on fire when you lean in closer to him, letting his cologne cloud your senses.

“What a pity.” He almost growls out as you look up at him fluttering your eyelashes.

Boldly he unclasps his hands and places one on your knee, the same knee that is currently pressing into his under the table.

You let out a small gasp when his hand sneaks into the inside of your knee and his thumb caresses your other leg.

You wish with all your heart that today of all days you had chosen to wear a skirt instead of jeans but your skin is on fire as he traced fine lines into your jeans, eyes not leaving yours.

Neither of you speak as his hand climbs higher. The rational part of your brain is screaming for you to stop this because he is your professor, your teacher, your senior, but the horny part of your brain is begging his fingers to climb higher where he would for sure find you soaked for him.

Before you can do or say anything he squeezes your thigh and you let out a squeal of shock when his hand leaves you, before you know it he is standing up and making his way down the stairs back to the podium seemingly unbothered and unaffected by the whole thing.

You realize this is him dismissing you so you grab your things and make your way down the stairs. Trying to hide how aroused you are and how badly your pussy is aching for his touch.

When you make it to the podium, messenger bag slung over your shoulder he looks up at you and reaches out to hand you a little white card.

You see it's blank on one side but when you turn it over you see an address scrawled on the back.

His address?

“Pity University boys don’t know how to please a woman. As I said you need an outlet for all that stress. Friday night come to this address. Seven pm.”

Your eyes widen in shock

He was inviting you to his house?

“I- I don’t know what to say.” You admit still holding the card in your outstretched hand and as you stare him down.

“Show up or don’t your choice ultimately.” He says closing his laptop and packing up his things for the night.

“What if someone finds out? Or sees this card?” You ask him with a tilt of your head.

He chuckles softly.

“No one ever has before. I’m not too worried. But if you are… don’t show up. Shred the card.” He offers as he shoves stuff in his briefcase not bothering to look at you.

“You’ve done this before?” You ask hating how your voice sounds so scandalized. As if you weren’t egging him on the entire time.

“I think you know the answer to that Miss Y/N.” He says with a cock of his eyebrow as he places his briefcase down and finally locks eyes with you.

“I see the way you look at me. They all have the same look. The want. The desire. I’m just here to get a paycheck and maybe have some fun. Though I will forwarn you if you do show up you will be punished for sleeping in my class.” He adds with a smirk as you gasp.

“Balls in your court Y/N. And if you do tell anyone well you still have your final exam to write.” He says boldly.

Your mouth drops in shock.

“You're going to fail me if I don’t show up? Are you insane?” You cry out as he smiles down at you.

“If you don’t say a word regardless of whether you show up or not I won’t have to fail you. If it does get out, whether you show up or not…well.” He shrugs as an answer and you gasp at him.

You shouldn’t find this hot.

You really shouldn’t.

“Fine.” You bite back and his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Have a good night Miss Y/N,” he says gesturing at the door.

Friday you tell your parents you are going to a study group. You have no idea how long this will take or what will even happen so you tell them to not wait up.

The drive is about twenty minutes from your house and you are shaking in anticipation the entire way.

Of course, you didn’t tell a single soul. You knew Mr. Kim was true to his word and you didn’t want to put your grades in the balance so you kept the note hidden in your wallet and double triple checked it before you drove over.

The sun was just starting to set casting everything in a beautiful glow as your hands tapped on the steering wheel and you turned down a side street.

The weather was warm today so you opted for a pale blue sundress with small yellow flowers on it. You dug out your best bra and underwear and tied your hair up to keep it from your face.

Your tote was on the seat next to you filled with textbooks you would never open as you finally made your way to the address and the big house.

It was a two-story white house with white shutters and a long driveway with three separate cars parked. You decided to park on the road and you pulled out the card to double-check again as the door opened and you saw Mr. Kim standing there staring at you.

You never told him you were coming but you guess he was ready anyway because when you grabbed your things and closed the car door he was smiling at you.

He looked so different than how he did in the classroom but still drop-dead gorgeous. His blonde hair was pushed back from his face in his signature style, he was wearing a black tight shirt and grey tight sweatpants that had your mouth watering.

He looked so good.

It really wasn’t fair.

“Hi.” You said softly as you made your way to the door.

He smiled at you and quickly ushed your inside as you took in your surroundings.

The living room was a good size with a big couch and a TV. Of to the side, there was a galley kitchen and you smiled when you remembered he said he was a terrible cook. You saw a staircase off the kitchen and a small bathroom off the living room.

“Mr. Kim thank you for this.” You start but he shushes you with a finger pressed to your lips.

“Please. I’m Namjoon. We don’t need the professional titles here.” He says as you kick off your shoes timidly and he puts a hand on the small of your back to bring you over to the couch.

“Namjoon.” You say his name as he smiles down at you when you both sit.

“Exactly. Or you can call me sir if you're into that.” He teases with a smirk as you blush.

“I think you are the one who would like that…sir… I saw the way you reacted when I called you that.” You tease back suddenly feeling bold as you drop your bag on the hardwood floor.

“You little tease. And getting all dolled up just for me, You shouldn’t have.” He mutters as his fingers come to play with the small straps holding the dress up.

“Yeah, you like it?” You smirk, standing up and swishing your dress around, giving him a full view of your legs.

His hands grab your hips and he pulls you down on his lap as you straddle him staring at him with lust-blown eyes.

“You absolute tease.” He grumbles as his hands come to play with the straps once more, taking his time to pull them slowly down your shoulders and letting them hang.

“What do you want?” He asks staring up at you not daring to make another move until you answer his question.

“You.”

Without warning he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss. You put your hands on his shoulders for support as you kiss him back.

His lips are just as soft as you imagined and you take your time with him, letting him control the kiss as he pushes his body into yours.

You feel his half-hard cock in his sweatpants and when you grind down on it a small moan leaves his mouth.

His hands run up and down your thighs and finally settle on your waist as he kisses you harder pushing his lips into yours and nibbling on your lower lip.

You moan at the feeling and his tongue darts in your mouth to rub against your tongue.

You rake your hands through his soft hair and grab the hair at the nape of his neck as you push your body into his, letting your breasts press into his chest and making more moans fall from his mouth.

This was hands down the hottest makeout session you have had and you start to feel yourself grind against him as pleasure courses through your body.

He pulls away and grins lazily up at you as you continue to rock your core against his now fully hard cock.

“Bend over my lap I promised I’d punish you, princess.” He says as you stare down at him and continue your grind on his cock, the sensation too good to stop.

“What if I don’t want to be punished?” You tease him as he rolls his eyes at you.

His hands grab your shoulders as he pushes you down on the couch and in a flash he has your dress hiked up so your ass is on display.

You moan out when you feel his strong hands massage your bare skin.

“Lacy underwear for me? You shouldn’t have,” He jokes as his hand comes down to smack your ass.

The sting causes you to close your eyes and you moan against the cushion when he continues to spank you, ranging from hard spanks to soft little taps.

Your pussy is throbbing at this point and you are almost humping the couch with how aroused you are. Namjoon isn’t letting up though and after ten spanks he is kneading the sensitive skin and praising you.

“Mr. Kim please!”You cry out.

“What did you call me?” He asks, delivering a sharp smack to your left and right buttcheek causing you to push your face into the cushion harder and moan out.

“Namjoon! Namjoon please!” You cry as he lifts you up and once again positions you on his lap. You can feel the hard ridge of his cock and you grind down on it some more.

“What do you want princess?” He asks massaging the skin he spanked raw as you bury your face in his shoulder, turned on beyond belief.

“You. I want you.” You beg out as he smirks and you lift your head.

You don’t waste time grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. You gasp when you are met with toned tan skin, broad shoulders, and a muscular chest.

“God Namjoon your body.” You whimper as you lean down to pepper kisses along his collarbones and chest, arching your back so you can reach more skin and have your core press harder into his cock.

“I could say the same about you.” He says lowly as he pulls the straps of your dress down to free your bra to his hungry eyes.

He quickly gets your bra off and his large hands come to cup your breasts. You throw your head back and moan as his thumbs flick over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure to your already-soaked core.

“God princess I can feel how needy you are, you're soaking my pants.” He says as you look down to see a stain forming on his crotch.

“That’s so fucking hot.” He admits as his hands continue to work your nipples and you continue to grind against his cock chasing your high.

“Princess you're so fucking wet for me I bet I could just slide in huh?” He says as his hands leave your breasts to run down the expanse of your stomach to the hem of your underwear

“Please. Joon. Fuck. Please.” You beg as his hand slips inside and your eyes roll back when he gathers your wetness and begins to circle your clit agonizingly slow.

“Use your words, princess.” He teases as he continues his slow torture on your clit. You throw your head back and grip his strong shoulders for support as you grind against his skilled hand.

“Want you to fuck me. Please, sir. Please.” You whine as he removes his hand and you watch as he licks his fingers clean, sharp eyes never leaving yours.

Your pussy pulses with want and a broken moan leaves your mouth.

“Gotta prep you, princess. Not to brag but I’ve been told I have a big cock. Don’t wanna break my girl before exams.” He teases as he taps your butt so you lift yourself and kneel on the couch giving him full access to your pussy as he pulls your underwear down and completely off leaving you in just your dress with nothing underneath.

He smiles up at you as his finger dips back into your underwear and he circles your clit again. You moan out and grip his shoulders when he inserts a finger inside of you.

You were right when you told him University boys didn’t know what they were doing

You had never experienced something like his before

And it never felt so good being right.

He took his time opening you up on his fingers. Adding another one and scissoring them, making beautiful whines and moans fall from your lips. You already felt close to the edge and when he curled his fingers upwards and thrusted deeper you let go.

Your body arched forward and you cried out his name as you orgasmed around his fingers. He chuckled darkly against your skin as you rode out your high. Feeling yourself pulse around his digits as he worked you through it.

Once you came down you straddled his lap once again and pressed your face into his chest letting your breathing even out as he stroked your hair and praised you for being so good for him.

“Please Namjoon.” You whined out as you pushed yourself up so you were face to face with him.

“Tell me, Princess. Tell your Professor what you want.” He says as you scoot back and stroke his cock through his sweatpants.

“Want you to fuck me Joon.” You beg as he wraps one hand around you to lift you and the other hand tugs at his sweats pulling them down so his hard cock is flush against his stomach.

He was right, his cock was big.

Thick and veiny, the tip was bright red and leaking precum down the shaft. You carefully wrapped a hand around his cock and began to slowly jerk him off, wanting to give him the pleasure he gave you.

“Princess you are too good at that.” He whines out when you twist your wrist at the top making his cock leak more precum.

“Princess you gotta stop I gotta get a condom.” He says as you stop your movements and giggle when he reaches for his wallet you didn’t even notice was on the coffee table and retrieves a condom from it.

Your pussy throbs in anticipation and right as he is about to roll the condom on the door bursts open.

Standing there is Mr. Min your psych teacher and you scream and bury your face in Namjoons shoulder as he looks unbothered by the whole thing.

“Jesus Joon on the couch?! Really? Thought we said bedrooms only!” Another voice says and you look up in time to see another male standing in the doorway. He is beautiful with slightly wavy brown hair and wide eyes, his features are soft giving him a look of unearthly beauty.

“Sorry, it just kind of happened,” Namjoon admits as you are still frozen in shock at the fact your other teacher is here watching the whole thing and seeming so chill about it.

“Mr. Min I’m so- I- shit I don’t know what to say.” You stammer as Mr. Min’s eyes lock on Namjoon’s in a harsh stare.

“You didn’t even tell her Joon? Jesus, do we have to do everything?” He asks as he comes around the couch and you push yourself closer to Namjoon in worry of what will happen.

“Listen Kitten. Come to my room when he’s done fucking you yeah? Up the stairs last door on the right.” He says pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your back as he walks away from the couch and smacks Namjoon on the back of his head.

“No more fucking on the couch or you’re going to pay the cleaning bill.” He says as he makes his way up the stairs.

Your heart is still hammering in your chest and you are frozen in absolute shock

What the fuck is going on?

“Why do you get her first?” The other man complains as Namjoon pushes his head into your shoulder and whines in embarrassment.

“Because I’m her teacher too. She has no idea who the fuck you are!” Mr. Min calls from the top of the stairs in a teasing tone.

The other man comes around the couch and grabs your hand to shake it with a big smile on his face.

“I’m Mr. Jung but you can call me Hobi. We’ve never met but I’m the performing arts teacher. Once these two buffoons are done with you come to my room. I’m the last door on the left.” He sends you a sultry wink and before you know it he is heading up the stairs as well and you are frozen in shock.

“What the fuck.” You whisper as Namjoon is groaning into your shoulder and you look down to see his cock softening between your bodies.

“I… Shit, they are right I should have explained things before we started.” He admits as he pushes his head back to stare at you.

“I’m so confused.” You admit still in shock.

“Yoongi, Um I guess he’s Mr. Min to you, Hobi, and I were roommates at University. After we graduated we couldn’t afford housing alone so we decided to rent a big house and live together. We all work at the same place so it just made sense. Anyway, we found that there are…students who take an interest in us beyond academics and figured why the hell not? We are young and if we want them and they want us and it’s consensual…” His voice trailed off and you nodded.

“Anyway, sometimes we share our students and sometimes we keep them to ourselves. When I talked to Yoongi about how he was stressing out my students he admitted he had an eye for you, but so did I. So we agreed to share as long as I got you first. Hobi is…well he’s Hobi he’s not picky and usually is down for anything. You don’t have to do anything with them if you don’t want to. You can let me fuck you and walk out this door. It won’t affect your grade with Yoongi at all. I should have told you sooner, as soon as you got here but you in that dress…good god I had to get my hands on you.” He says running his hands up and down your hips as you whine and grind against him.

“Again you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You can walk out the door right now, write your exams, and never see any of us again. Your choice princess.” He says.

You shake your head at him and slide off his lap.

You see his face fall.

And quickly turn to shock when you lower yourself down to the floor and engulf his soft cock in your warm mouth.

Namjoon grunts and grabs your hair that has started to fall out of your ponytail to keep it away from your face as you suck him down, loving the feeling of his cock starting to harder in your mouth.

You suck and bob your head as your tongue dances over the sensitive flesh.

“Fuck! Is that a yes then?” Namjoon pants above you as his hands tighten in your hair and force you to look up at him.

“Have sex with the three hottest teachers on campus? I’d be stupid to say no to that.” You tease as you jerk off his quickly hardening cock and get off your knees to get back on his lap and kiss him.

His hands tangle in your hair as he frees it from your ponytail and you kiss him wildly. Your tongues and teeth clash as you feel his now fully hard cock press into your abdomen.

“Fuck me Joon. Please.” You cry out as his hand comes down to spank your ass once more.

“Are you just saying that ‘cause you wanna rush to Yoongi?” He teases as he finally rolls the condom on his cock.

“Nah you made me wait a whole semester. If I wait any longer I’m gonna explode.” You admit as he positions his cock at your entrance and teases your folds with the tip.

“Well, I won’t make my princess wait any longer then.” He says as he inches his cock inside of you.

The sting is immediate and you bury your face in his shoulder as he pushes himself in inch by inch until he is fully sheathed inside of you, his large hands coming up to hold your hips steady and give you time to adjust to his length.

“God I made you cum and your still tight.” He grits out as it’s taking everything in him not to immediately thrust inside of you.

You take your time and slowly move your hips back and forth. His hands grip your sides harshly and he hisses every time you move.

You know he is being a gentleman and waiting for you to adjust and it makes you smile.

“Joon. Move.” You plea as he begins to thrust into you shallowly letting your body get used to the feeling of being stuffed with cock.

You let out a moan when he starts to pick up speed. Your hands rest on his shoulders and you use your legs to fuck yourself on his cock as he picks up the pace and is fucking you rather harshly.

The noise is obscene and you wonder if the other men can hear how Namjoon is fucking you. It makes your pussy clench and Namjoon lets out a hiss as he tilts his hips and pushes his cock deeper inside of you to hit your g spot.

You are moaning above him, hands holding onto his for dear life and feeling the coil of pleasure get tighter and tighter.

He must understand because one hand leaves your hip to come and circle your clit and a high whine leaves your mouth as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.

Namjoon once again picks up the pace and fucks into you harder and you capture his lips in a kiss and before you can warn him you are flying off the edge and cumming hard around his cock.

You whine against his mouth as you ride out your second high of the night and Namjoon fucks you through it. His hand leaves your clit and he continues to pound into you bringing you to the brink of overstimulation before he groans into your neck and cums hard into the condom.

You cry out when you feel his cock twitch deep inside of you and his thrusts become erratic as he works himself through his own high.

You slump your body against his and let your breathing settle as he does the same.

His hands still have a vice-like grip on your hips and when he finally releases them you look down to see they are slightly red.

You grin.

“That was wow.” He says pushing his sweaty hair back from his face as you grin at him feeling euphoric.

“I agree.” You say with a smile as you climb off his lap and try to stand, only to have your legs shake and your body nearly tumbles into the couch.

Namjoon steadies you and takes the condom off his softening cock and ties it up throwing it in a garbage nearby.

You pull the straps of your dress up and search for your bra and underwear but Namjoon stops you.

“Don’t bother, save the others the trouble of taking it off again.” He says which has you gasping.

“Remember you always have a choice. You can walk out the door now or go to Yoongi.” He says as you lean against the couch and smooth everything down trying to at least look presentable.

“You know my answer Joon,” you say as you raise your eyebrows at him.

He stands up and pulls up his underwear and sweatpants. Without warning he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You squeal in delight as he carries you up the stairs and to the last door on the right. He kicks it open with his foot and you find Yoongi hunched in a desk chair working on something on a laptop. His hair is messy under big headphones and he looks up with a slow smirk when Namjoon deposits you on his bed.

“Special delivery. No bra or underwear just a skimpy sundress. You’re welcome.” He teases as he winks at you and closes the door.

Now you are left alone with Yoongi having no idea what to expect.

“Did Namjoon fill you in?” He asks taking off his headphones and saving whatever he was working on.

“Yeah, he did.” You say suddenly breathless at the prospect of getting fucked…again.

“And did he take good care of you? Namjoon is the youngest of the three of us. Gotta make sure we trained him well.” Yoongi says as he rolls his chair over to sit at the foot of the bed, eyes roving over your disheveled appearance.

“Yes Sir.” You say watching Yoongi smirk at you as his hands trace small circles on your legs.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as his fingers take their time with your bare skin.

“Good. A little sore. Namjoon spanked me. But overall good.” You admit as your eyes are glued to his long fingers which are climbing slightly higher with each stroke.

“Why did he spank you kitten? Were you bad?” He mutters lowly as his hands come to your knees to part your legs.

You sit up for him and scoot your butt to the very edge of the bed and let your legs fall open. You hike your dress around your hips and give him a full view.

Yoongi’s eyes darken.

“I have this teacher called Mr. Min. He gave me so much homework I stayed up all night completing it and hardly slept. I fell asleep in Joon’s class so he had to punish me.” You tease as you watch Yoongi’s hands trail higher and higher on your skin.

His cheeks are flushed and his brown hair is falling into his eyes as he watches his hands caress your skin.

“Ah well if it were me I’d do the same thing. Naughty girls get punished.” He says giving your upper thighs a soft smack as you whine.

You start to pout but just as you stick your bottom lip out, he leans forward to kiss you.

You plant your hands on his jean-clad thighs as you lean forward to kiss him back. His lips are soft as he presses them to yours. You flutter your eyes closed and focus on the sensation of his good his lips feel against yours.

You feel your core throb with arousal and you push your lips harder into his, loving the way he grunts against you and tangles his hands in your hair.

You spend awhile just kissing and testing the waters and soon enough Yoongi pulls away and his eyes are dark, clouded with lust and you can see an obvious bulge in his jeans.

“Can I suck your cock?” You ask as you stand up and stare at him.

“Namjoon didn’t let you suck him off?” Yoongi asks as he stands up and takes your spot on the bed. He throws you a pillow to kneel on and you take your spot between his legs palming at his bulge eagerly.

“I mean he did but hardly. Think he was too excited to fuck me.” You admit as Yoongi lets out a quiet laugh and your hands come to pop the button of his jeans open and tug the zipper down. His eyes widen when you see his cock straining against his dark boxers.

“I don’t blame him,” Yoongi mumbles as he pushes his hair back from his face to look down at you kneeling on the floor between his legs.

A sight he wants to commit to memory.

You slowly pull his jeans down and he helps you kick them off. You take in the sight of him, already looking fucked out and you hardly touched him.

“What were you working on when Joon dropped me off?” You ask as you bring your hand up to palm at his erection.

“M-Music. I make music on the side.” He admits as you push your palm into his cock and soak in the moans that are falling from his lips.

“Hard ass Mr. Min makes music on the side? That’s cool.” You tease as his eyes snap open and he stares you down dangerously.

“What did you call me?” He asks in a low voice as you hook your hands into his boxers and he lifts his hips to assist you with pulling them off.

“A hardass? Come on you knew that already.” You tease letting your hands run up and down his hard shaft, smearing the pre-cum all over it as his eyes threaten to flutter closed again.

Before he can reply you lean forward and wrap your lips around his cockhead causing him to moan and lace his fingers tightly through your hair.

You take your time sucking him, loving the feeling of your tongue lapping up his precum and loving even more that you are making big bad intimidating Min Yoongi fall apart.

You slowly take him in deeper and smirk when he grips your hair harder and bucks his cock into your mouth.

You bring your hand up to work in tandem with your mouth and you hollow out your cheeks and continue to suck him.

He throws his head back and whines as you take him deeper. By the time you get his cock down and your nose is brushing against his neatly trimmed pubes, Yoongi has his hands laced through your hair and is grunting above you.

He tastes salty on your tongue and your eyes water when your gag reflex kicks in but you do everything you can to relax your throat and swallow around him.

Rough hands tug at your hair as he pries you off his cock and you look up at him with tearful eyes, as a string of spit is still connected from your mouth to his very red cockhead which is slowly leaking more precum.

“Kitten you are far too good at that.” He complements as you smile up at him and he leans forward to grab your arms to help you up.

You stand on shaky knees as Yoongi grabs you and pushes you down on the bed. You let out a squeal of delight as he flips you onto your back. He hikes up your sundress and lets it pool around your midsection as he eyes your still-soaked core.

“You’re still all puffy for me Kitten.” He comments as one finger comes to trace at your clit and you whine and buck your hips into his hand.

“Mmm Yoongi.” You moan letting your eyes close as he teases your clit with the tip of his finger, his eyebrows scrunched up in concentration and his tongue darts out to lick at the corner of his mouth.

“What do you want kitten"?” He asks plunging a finger inside of you making your body arch off the bed and your hands come to grip the sheets below.

“You. I want you Yoongi. Real bad.” You cry out as he adds another finger without warning and begins to take his time opening you up.

“You already got fucked by one man now you want another so soon. You're such a greedy kitten.” He purrs reaching up to kiss and suck at your neck.

You tangle your hands in his hair and let the sensation of his soft lips on your heated skin take over.

He takes his time plunging his fingers inside of you and stretching you out. You felt like you didn’t need stretching out after Namjoon’s cock but you weren’t about to say anything as Yoongi’s fingers felt like magic.

“Wanna come around my fingers?” He asks as his lips are still sucking at your neck and you are grinding your butt down to meet his thrusts, fucking yourself on his long fingers.

“Would rather cum on your cock.” You admit as his head snaps up and his eyes meet yours. His eyes are dark and lustful and when he pulls his fingers out he licks at them taking his time cleaning them and leaving you whining out on the bed.

“Kitten doesn’t know how to use her words.” Yoongi teases as he sees your frustration but still takes his sweet time.

You frown at him.

“Kitten did use her words you just chose to ignore them.” You fire back which causes Yoongi to pounce on you, resting his whole body weight on yours as you feel his cock press against your center.

“Did you just talk back to me?” He growls as he grabs the base of his cock and runs it through your folds.

“Sorry, Sir. Guess I’m just impatient. You like to take your sweet time.” You answer back not bothering to hide your attitude as Yoongi’s hand wraps around your throat.

Your eyes bulge when he squeezes it and you let out a choked moan when he stares you down with an intensity that has your core throbbing.

His hand tightens on your neck, pressing into your pulse which has it racing against his fingertips. You flutter your eyes closed but with his free hand, he lightly slaps your cheek.

“Look at me when I speak to you. Naughty Kitten comes into the lion’s den to get fucked by three different men. Now she thinks she can sass back to a man who holds her future in his hands. I could fail you right now if I want to. I could squeeze your throat until you passed out. I could throw you up against a wall and fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk for a week. “

Your eyes roll in the back of your head at his words.

“Now are you going to behave or am I going to add to the spankings you already received? Hmm? Gonna drop that attitude yet or still think your hot shit around here.” He growls out as his fingers start to ease on your throat and you expand your lungs taking in as much air as you can.

“Sorry, Sir. I’ll behave.” You say softly as Yoongi smiles down at you and presses soft sweet kisses to your neck, soothing the area he just had his hand wrapped around.

He slowly gets off the bed and reaches over to the nightstand where he pulls out a foil packet. He opens it and rolls it down his hard cock, jerking himself off as he goes.

You watch him work his cock with nimble fingers and soon enough he is on top of you again positioning his cock at your entrance.

“Let me know if it’s too much.” He says softly as he slips his cockhead inside and begins to inch in slowly.

You can’t help but whine when he finally gets all the way in. His hips are flush against yours and you both breathe heavily at the sensation.

He stares down at you with hair falling into his eyes and slowly presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is slow and sweet and the complete opposite of how he choked you earlier. You tangle your hands into his hair and give your body time to adjust.

This time it doesn’t take your body long to adjust and you start to wiggle your hips to give him the signal to move.

“You good Kitten?” He asks pulling away to stare at you.

And what a sight you were.

Hair splayed out on his pillow, eyes blown wide, and cheeks dusted with a pretty blush.

"Please.” You beg as Yoongi begins to thrust inside of you shallowly, slowly picking up the pace as he goes.

His hands are on either side of your head holding himself up as he fucks into you. You tear your eyes away from his gorgeous face to see his biceps bulging and you moan out his name.

The sound of slapping skin, grunts, and moans fill the room and you shift down to meet Yoongi’s every thrust.

But something is missing. You want more.

“Yoongi please.” You cry out when he thrusts into you harder and his cock hits that spot inside of you that has your toes curling and your lips parting in an obscene moan.

“Again Kitten use your words. Did we teach you nothing? Fuck.” He cries out as he tilts his hips to get a better angle deep inside of you.

“Choke me. Please fuck. Yoongi.” You beg as your hands come up to claw at his back.

He stops his movements. Completely stills and you whine at the loss of friction.

“You…sure?” He asks staring down at you with eyes wide. Like he couldn’t believe you had just said that.

“Please.” You beg as Yoongi smirks and slips out of you.

You let out a frustrated noise as he positions himself at the foot of the bed and taps his bare lap, signaling you to come over and ride his cock.

“Can’t hold myself up and choke you kitten. You have to decide.”

You scramble to the end of the bed and sink down on his cock. He feels so much deeper in this position and when his hand comes up to your neck you let out a moan and feel your eyes flutter closed.

“Fuck your a vision like this with my cock stuffing your pussy and my hand around your throat.” He mutters as you use his cock and begin to ride him.

He has one hand on the bed holding himself up and the other is around your neck.

You are seeing stars, absolute stars. The pleasure from his hand around you slightly choking you and the feeling of his cock stuffing you full has you riding him harder, chasing the high you so desperately craved.

Yoongi pushes a little harder on the sides of your neck and you're a goner. You arch your back up and feel the pleasure that was building and building finally crescendo into an orgasm that punches the air out of your lungs, or maybe that was the fact Yoongi was still fucking up into you wildly and his hand was still wrapped around your throat.

“My pretty Kitten cumming with my cock stuffed inside her and my hand around her pretty neck, fuck you are so hot. What the fuck. What the actual fuck.” He blabbers as he chases his own high and is soon cumming inside of you. His hand leaves your throat to steady himself on the bed so you both don’t topple forward and hit the floor.

You let him ride out his high as you come down from yours. He buries his face in your shoulder and grunts low and dangerous as he finally stills his hips.

He slowly shifts you up and off his lap, plopping you on the bed and standing up so he can crack open a window.

The whole room reeks of cum and sex and you flop back down on his bed putting a hand on your chest to feel your heart beating rapidly.

Yoongi pulls up his boxers and fishes around in his drawers for some looser pants pulling them over his legs before he sits down beside you.

He shoots you a rare smile and you smile back at him.

“So I’m not actually going to fail your class am I?” You tease breaking the silence as he giggles and you smile at him.

“Nah that was a heat of the moment thing. You are top of my class I would have no way of failing you.” He admits and you sit up and stare at him.

“Wait really? I’m top of the class? I…wow. I didn’t expect that.” You say shyly as he messes up his hair and smirks at you.

“How? You actually show up. You hand in assignments. You work hard. There is no reason you shouldn’t be top of my class.” He says and you flush at his praises.

“Even if a teacher had to come to talk to me and tell me to lay off a little bit.” He says with a teasing tone.

“He told me he wouldn’t say specifically who!” You say with a laugh rolling your eyes to the ceiling.

“He didn’t say it was you specifically but I could tell you were working yourself to death and needed a break. Or a release.” He says wiggling his eyebrows as you smack his arm.

Before you can answer there is a knock at the door and you pull your dress down and smooth it out as Hobi appears.

“Ah just in time,” Yoongi says as he smiles up at his friend.

“I know I heard you fucking her.” He grumbles as he leans against the door frame and you take him in.

The other two you were familiar with, but Hobi was a stranger so you took your time.

Your eyes roved his lean dancer’s body and how he leaned up against the door frame and crossed his arms with ease. He looked intimidating except for the small smile on his face.

“Only if you want to Kitten. You can walk out of here now. Your choice.” Yoongi reminds you.

“I don’t want to pressure you but I’m so fucking hard right now,” Hobi admits with a bite of his lips which has you standing up on shaky legs.

In two long strides, he reaches you and holds you steady against his strong frame.

“What did you do to her? She can hardly stand.” He accuses as Yoongi smirks and grabs a sweater on the floor, throwing it over his head and making his way back over to his desk and opening his laptop.

“Have fun kitten.” He says as he winks at you and puts his headphones over his ears.

Hobi leads you out into the hall and you take a shaky breath staring up at his beautiful face.

“Only if you want to.” He says shyly and you nod.

“Words please.” He says crossing his arms and staring you down.

“Yes. I want to. Though I might be extra sore.” You say with a grimace as you feel how tired your legs are and how your ass still stings from Namjoon’s earlier spanks.

Hobi grabs your hands and leads you to his room across the hall. You enter and take in the bright walls and decor and the big bed in the middle.

You can’t help yourself as you flop down on his bed and curl up in a ball. You take in the smell of his bed sheets and you sigh as he comes to sit next to you.

“You don’t have to baby. Seriously I want this to be good for both of us.” He says massaging your back as you peek up to look at him.

“Sorry Hobi I want to. God, I want to. It’s just the last two were…intense.” You admit suddenly feeling shy when he rolls you onto your back and stares down at you.

“How about we take it slow? Let me massage you and we will see where it leads hmm?” He asks and before you can answer he rolls you onto your stomach and his long fingers begin to massage the back of your legs.

You close your eyes and rest your cheek on his bed as he gets to work. He takes his time applying pressure to your sore muscles, digging his thumbs in where he feels like you need a little more pressure being respectful the whole time, and not letting his hands trail too high up your body.

You let out a whine when he massages a particularly sore spot and you spread your legs for him wider, letting his hands dance over the skin of your inner thighs.

“God baby you’re so tight.” He mutters as his hands travel down your calves and back up again earning a broken moan from you.

“So dance teacher huh?” You ask as he continues to work your muscles this time his hand inches high on your hamstrings and you push your face into the mattress at the feeling.

“Yeah, I’ve always loved dance and music and I had some teachers change my life and the way I see dance so I decided I wanted to be just like them. I love what I do.” He says softly as his fingers dig into your flesh and you feel yourself start to relax.

“How come I’ve never seen you on campus?” You ask voice muffled by his sheets as his hands continue to work your right and left leg.

“The dance studio is the furthest away from your building. We are the complete opposite sides of campus. Can’t have us blaring our music and having fun while you are trying to study for a test.” He teases as he gives you a small smack on the ass causing you to jolt and let out a pained whine.

He lifts the skirt of your dress and stares down at the red marks Namjoon left behind. His skilled hands massage the tender flesh and you let out another satisfied moan.

“T-True. But might be nice you know, to see you guys perform, might take away some stress.” You admit as his hands still wander your butt cheeks.

“I thought that’s what we were doing here?” He teases as you crane your neck to look at him and he flashes you a toothy smile.

His hands come to your hips to flip you over to your back. You stare up at his beautiful face and lean yourself up on your elbows capturing his lips in a kiss.

His hands cradle your head and hold you steady as he kisses you back. You feel blissed out as just like the others he takes his time exploring your mouth and pushing his lips into yours.

The kisses are slow and sweet, with no urgency just two people taking their time to get to know each other.

You shift so you are kneeling on the bed and you run your fingers through his dark hair and he sighs happily against your mouth.

You let your hands explore his hair, moving down to his neck and exploring his body.

You grab the hem of his shirt and your lips part so you can pull it off of him.

You press soft kisses to his neck and collarbones and smile against his skin when he throws his head back and whines.

You take your time with his body, kissing every freckle or mole you find as he holds your hair back and allows you to explore.

You stop at the hem of his loose-fitting pants and you can already see a sizeable bulge which causes you to giggle.

"So eager.” You tease as you lean up to capture his lips again and palm at his hard cock. He whines in your mouth as you push your palm into him and make sure to grind against his cockhead.

“You have no idea what it was like. Having to sit in this room and hear Namjoon and Yoongi fuck you. Torture.” He admits as you continue to palm him through the material.

“Did you like hearing how good I was getting fucked?” You say to him as you dance your fingers along his cock which is straining against the material, when you give him a squeeze you realize he is not wearing anything underneath and you gasp.

“Had to take them off. I was so fucking hard my cock needed some room. Didn’t wanna jerk off in case I came. The noises you make. Fuck Y/N I know why Namjoon picked you.” Hobi admits as you pull his pants down and watch as his cock smacks up against his toned stomach.

You take your time circling the base of his cock with your hand and he buries his face in your shoulder and whines at your touch.

You feel yourself start to get wet but you want to take your time and focus on him, he needs this more right now.

“If I make you cum now would you be able to still fuck me?” You ask as you begin to jerk him off, applying just the right amount of pressure and smearing his precum down his aching shaft.

“I-fuck-” He says as you flick your wrist at the top and watch as he bites his lip burying his face into your shoulder harder.

“Words please.” You say with a smirk as he pulls away and stares you down.

“I can tell you have been with Joon and Yoongi. I know I’m too pent up to fuck you right now I probably wouldn’t last. So yes. Please. Make me cum and I’ll fuck you.” He says as you nod and begin to stroke him harder.

He leans up to pull you in for a searing kiss and you tighten your grip on his cock which has him moaning against your mouth.

His hands are tangled wildly in your hair and you continue to jerk his cock harder and faster until he can no longer kiss you and instead is just moaning and whining against your swollen lips.

When you run your thumb under the head of his cock his hips jerk, fucking himself into your fist.

He continues to snap his hips forward and back, using your hand as his own personal fuck toy and you let him, loving the way he throws his head back making his hair push back from his sweaty forehead and the way the veins in his neck strain against his skin.

“Gonna cum for me?” You growl as you watch his eyes flutter open and he nods.

“Cum all over my hand Hobi. Come on now. Be a good boy and cum.” You demand and he loses it.

His body convulses forward and he buries his head back into your shoulder as he cums. Ropes of hot cum coat your fist as you let him work himself through it. He is still fucking up into your tight fist and when he finally stops you release his cock and begin to lap at the cum he left behind.

“Fuckkkk.” He groans out as he watches you lick and suck the cum up, his taste exploding in your mouth as you take your time, keeping your eyes locked on his as you finish the job and completely clean yourself.

“How are you real? Holy fuck how are you real?” He whines out as you smirk at the way his jaw is dropped and his eyes are blown wide.

You smile at him as you drop down on his bed and lie on your back, your knees starting to get sore from all the kneeling you had to do.

Hobi smirks and crawls off the bed, his hands grab at your hips and he pulls you to the very edge of the bed and kneels on the floor. Your eyes widen when his hands come to your knees and he flips up the skirt of your dress and prys your legs open as he gets comfortable between them.

“Gonna eat you out.” He mutters as he places hot kisses on your thighs and you spread them open wider for him.

When his mouth finally gets to your core you are almost shaking on the mattress. He laps at your clit and begins to swirl his tongue around it making you see stars.

Your hands grip the sheets below as you bring your legs up to wrap around his back caging him in place.

He chuckles against your core and continues to suck and lick at your clit, you can hear the wetness of his tongue lapping at your wetness and it makes your pussy pulse.

His tongue runs up and down your slit and he buries his face into your core causing his strong nose to bump against your clit sending you arching off the bed and a broken moan falling from your lips

His hands hold onto your thighs keeping you steady as he licks and sucks, pressing harder and working faster as you feel your orgasm start to build in your lower stomach.

You are squirming on the sheets and his name is falling out of your mouth in a prayer as he works harder and sucks up everything you are giving him

“Ho-Hobi stop you gotta stop.” You cry out as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. Not wanting to fall off too soon.

“Baby your sopping wet for me.” He says as his head pops up between your legs and you see his lips shiny with your arousal, some is even leaking down his chin, and you swear it’s the hottest sight you have ever seen.

“Want you to fuck me Hobi.” You say as you sit up and watch him get up from the floor. His cock is once again rock hard against his stomach and he smiles at you.

He grabs a condom and rolls it onto his cock, pumping himself a few times as he leans down on the bed.

“How do you want me?” He asks as you sit up and close your legs giving him room to sit next to you.

“However you want. I just don’t think I can ride you. I think my legs will literally fall off.” You say with a laugh as Hobi eyes you mischievously.

“Did you ride both Joon and Yoongi?”

You nod.

“Don’t they know there are other positions to choose from? Fuck no wonder you are tired.” He says sitting on the bed beside you and stroking your knee in a comforting way.

“Well Joon I didn’t mind but with Yoongi we had to….for…reasons.” You say blushing at the memory of his hand wrapped around your neck.

“Reasons?” He asks with a cock of his eyebrow.

“He um..was choking me. Consensually of course!” You reply as you choose to stare at the floor instead of Hobi’s surprised face.

“Kinky.” He says with a soft giggle as you face him and smile shyly.

“Okay how about this lay against the headboard feet flat on the bed, I’ll do all the work baby.” He says patting you as you follow his instructions.

You spread your legs as Hobi crawls up the bed towards you. He places his hands on the headboard to hold himself steady and is on his knees running his cock through your folds.

You let out a broken whine and his eyes snap to yours in concern.

“I’m okay just…sensitive.” You admit already knowing that having a third cock inside of you in a short span of time will only make the soreness worse.

“I’ll go easy baby.” He says as he uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips even more and he slides his cock in.

Hobi is just as big as the others and even though you have lost track of how many times you have cum you can still feel a slight stretch as he bottoms out.

You close your eyes and scrunch your face, letting your body get used to the sensation as he stills and gives you time to adjust.

“Fuck you are so wet inside. Your soaking my cock baby. So fucking wet. And all for me.” He mutters in your ear causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

He starts to thrust shallowly inside of you and you bring your knees closer to your chest giving him more access to your core as he starts to pound into you with force.

Hobi is skilled with his hips and you can see why he would be a good dancer, he alternates from wild thrusting to burying his cock deep inside of you and grinding his hips causing his cock head to brush against your g-spot.

Hobi holds your legs open almost bending you in half and giving his cock room to go deeper inside of you, you swear you can feel him in your stomach but your eyes are too heavy to open right now so you take deep breaths and focus on the sensation.

The view you are missing is immaculate.

Hobi’s hips are thrusting deep inside of you and his head is thrown back in pleasure. His hair is sweaty and stuck to his forehead and his lips are sucked into his mouth as he works on bringing you over the edge.

You feel the coil of pleasure start to tighten and you know you are close.

Hobi is so good and once he gets into a rhythm he starts thrusting erratically making you shake on the bed and whine out his name.

Your eyes are screwed shut when you cum. Crying out his name in a broken moan that is ripped from your lungs. You want to cry from the feeling of having another orgasm as euphoria washes over you. It is too much and not enough at the same time and you feel tears slip out of your eyes when he continues to work his cock deep inside of you chasing his high.

“One more baby can you give me one more?” He asks in a desperate tone as his thrusts become erratic and you hold onto his shoulders for dear life as the overstimulation is almost painful.

“Ho-Hobi please please it’s too much… fuck!” You cry when his hand comes down to circle your clit and you feel your walls clamp down on his cock.

“Want you to cum with me can you do that baby. Come on one more on my cock.” He says breathlessly as you quickly reach the edge one more time and you cry out and feel your walls pulse against his cock which twitches and cums deep inside of your pussy.

He has his cock buried all the way in and is panting above you as you both ride out your highs.

When you finally come down the soreness in your body takes over and you slump against the headboard.

He pulls out of you and tosses the condom and leaves you spread eagle on the bed. You don’t mind though you are too worried about trying to force air back into your lungs after that intense orgasm.

Faintly you hear running water and you open your eyes to see Namjoon standing there leaning against the door frame with his hands tucked into his pockets.

He changed out of his clothes into soft green pj pants and a big baggy sweater, the hood was thrown over his messy hair and he stared at you affectionately.

“Come on princess we have to get you cleaned up now.” He says as he enters the room and walks over to Hobi’s window throwing it open to air out the room.

You groan and bury your face in the pillows, the last thing you want to do is stand up right now.

“Come on I got you.” He says softly as he scoops you in his arms like you weigh nothing and you bury your face in his soft sweater as he carries you towards the source of the running water.

The bathroom lights are dimmed and you see Yoongi is already there testing the water with his finger. Namjoon sets you down on shaky legs and you look around at the three men standing in the bathroom, all of them grinning at you.

Namjoon slowly slips the straps of your dress down and he lets it pool at your ankles. You step out of it as Hobi holds you up and helps you into the warm bath.

You sink into the warm water and let out a content sigh as Hobi and Yoongi leave the room, leaving you with Namoon who is still staring at you affectionately.

“Take as long as you need Princess. Towels are over there and there is a change of clothes on the vanity. It’s our stuff so it might not perfectly fit but it will do.” He says with a dimpled smile.

“Yoongi is making some food so take your time we will bring it up to you.” He says softly as he closes the door.

You inhale the lavender scent of the bubble bath and you sigh and sink deeper in the water, hoping it will ease some of the ache in your legs.

You flutter your eyes closed and aren’t sure how long you are laying there when the door cracks open and Yoongi is there with a plate of noodles that smell wonderful.

He places it on a mini folding table and leaves the room again, giving you time to eat in peace.

You spend a total of forty minutes in the bath and as you dry off and throw on the soft sweatpants and sweater someone knocks on the door and you see Namjoon standing there again.

“How do you feel princess?” He asks still leaning against the door frame as you let your hair down and throw the hood of the sweater over your messy hair.

“Relaxed. And so sleepy.” You admit as he comes behind you and hugs you, letting his chin rest on your shoulder.

“You did amazing tonight princess. So good for us. It’s pretty late so if you want to crash here we have a spare room. Or if you're comfortable you can sleep next to one of us. Or if you want to go home you can. Your choice.” He says as he raises his head to stare at both of your reflections in the mirror.

“Wanna sleep next to you Joon? Is that okay?” You say feeling small and safe in his arms.

He shoots you a smile as he takes your hands and leads you to his bedroom. The small bedside lamp is on and you see the duvet already rolled down. He assists you over to the bed as your legs are still shaky and he helps you get under the covers.

He crawls in on the other side and flicks off the lamp casting the room in darkness as he comes behind you to spoon you, his hands holding you flush against him.

“What time is it anyway?” You ask craning your neck to look out his window where you can see a small sliver of the moon illuminated in the sky.

“Almost eleven.” He replies as you gasp.

You didn’t think that much time had passed.

“Time flies when you're being fucked.” He teases as you smack his arm and he laughs, face buried in your neck.

“You should give me bonus marks on the exam for dealing with your terrible jokes.” You grumble as he is still chuckling behind you.

“Maybe I will.” He says as you can hear his voice drop a couple of octaves, he must be as tired as you are.

“Night Mr.Kim.” You tease pushing your butt back so it’s flush against his cock as he groans low in your ear.

“Goodnight Miss Y/N”

[lordprettyflackotara]

more than friends || Sam & Colby || Part two

smut, 18+, minors dni. this is literally just pure long fucking filth with like the tiniest string of a plot

part one is here

Figuring out a relationship dynamic with both Sam and Colby wasn’t easy.

Sure, you expected both of them to be protective and loving. Sam often cooked you all breakfast, while Colby enjoyed paying for dinner. You expected something like this when you three had agreed to be more than friends.

And of course you expected them to fuck your brains out ever so often.

What you didn’t anticipate on was how competitive they were when it came to you.

They often bickered about who made you cum harder, who made your beg harder, etc etc.

It was starting to drive you insane, the two often bickering during sex and after it too.

You poked at your scrambled eggs, the constant nonsensical contest creating a persistent annoyance.

“No im telling you dude, did you see the way her eyes rolled back? I made her cum harder just on my fingers,” Colby argued, chewing a piece of bacon. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Her thighs were fucking trembling by the time I was done with her, nothing beats that,” Sam debated. You forced yourself to take a bite of your eggs, not wanting them to get cold.

“You’re on literal crack, didn’t you see the way she-” Colby began. You swallowed your eggs, slamming your fork down.

“Holy fuck you two are insufferable. If you guys are going to keep droning on about this why don’t we make it official? Tonight, both of you fuck me, and whoever did it better gets bragging rights, deal?” You offer. Two sets of blue eyes met yours, faint traces of guilt crossing both boys faces. “So you’ll be completely honest and won’t lie to protect our feelings?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. You couldn’t take his facial expression seriously, a small giggle escaping your lips.

“No Sam, I won’t lie to protect anyone’s feelings. I’m going to have to pick a winner so you both will decide to bicker about something else,” You agreed. Your boyfriends exchanged mischievous looks, the sight giving you a pit of anticipation forming in the bottom of your stomach.

You gave them simple instructions, to meet you in Colby’s room at ten pm sharp. You sat naked on the end of his bed, the velvet comforter beneath you satisfying to your bare skin. You didn’t want any clothes getting in the way. Their bickering and competition did annoy you, but it also formed an unexplainable arousal that you couldn’t ignore.

It had only been three months since your boyfriends had walked in on you touching yourself to the thought of them, that night changing your life forever. You absolutely adored them.

Almost as much as they adored you.

Colby was possessive of you, to say the absolute very least. He wasn’t a fan of polygamy, until he met you. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he fell for you, but he could remember exactly when he realized Sam did too. It wasn’t a grand reveal, something he was sure that Sam didn’t realize he revealed. They were both editing a new video, ensuring to crop you out per your request. The very last thing you wanted was to piss off your best friends fanbase.

“This sucks dude, I don’t like doing this,” Sam sighed, cutting a piece of the video out. Truthfully, both of the boys thought you were more entertaining than they were. Especially with your reactions. “Me either, I mean her reaction to the chair sliding in the other room right here is golden,” Colby said, pointing to a particular time stamp in the video. You had the cutest expression, grabbing almost Colby’s arm instinctively. Sam dragged the mouse over to the part Colby was referring to, double clicking it and watching the video back.

“I respect what she wants, but they’re going to figure out about the three of us one days anyways,”

It was something about the way he said it. Or maybe it was the way he chose to word it. But Colby knew right there and then that Sam loved you just as much as he did. And that meant if you felt the same way, you wouldn’t choose either of them.

Sam eyed Colby carefully as he slid off his hoodie, revealing his undershirt. In most cases he wouldn’t have thought twice, the brunette in front of him his best friend. But tonight, he was nothing other than competition. Sam wasn’t possessive like Colby was, but he was helplessly jealous. He couldn’t help it, every fiber in him screaming envy when Colby held your hand, fucked you, tucked your hair behind your ear.

It didn’t matter what Colby did with you or to you, it made Sam crave to be in his place. He respected and enjoyed the dynamic that was established. He would never want to share you with anyone other than his best friend. He knew jealousy in a relationship was his toxic trait, and it only enraged further when you took them both in the bedroom.

Both boys assumed they had the upper hand, being self aware of their characteristics. Sam purposefully agreed to letting Colby go first, knowing the sight of you under the brunette would make him go feral from envy. Colby opted to go first to remind you of who he was. He wanted you to remember you belonged to him. Colby wasn’t planning on playing fair, he just wanted to win.

It wasn’t long before both boys entered the room, eager to begin the long night ahead of them.

Colby whistled at the sight of you, your naked body a sight for sore eyes. Fuck, he could never get enough of you. Sam respectfully took his seat in a nearby chair, giving you both space while also providing a wonderful view to the show he knew was about to start playing.

“Hi beautiful,” Colby greeted. You stared up at him nervously, trying hard to ignore Sam’s gaze. You intended on doing exactly what you said, voting a winner to ensure they’d never bicker again.

With that intention meant whoever was in front of you had your full undivided attention.

Colby towered over you as he met your lustful eyes, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. He dragged it down teasingly, soaking in the image of your doe eyes anticipating his next move.

The control in the bedroom often rotated frequently, depending on the mood everyone was in. A majority of the time the boys were in control, even when you had them one on one. On occasion they’d let you have your fun, riding them while spewing degrading words they’d mock you for later. But by the way they both eyed you, as if you were prey, you knew any ounce of control was not going to be in your hands.

“Lay back for me princess, spread those pretty legs of yours,” Colby ordered. He threw his shirt over his head, his well built body making your pupils widen as you did as he asked. Had he been working out more? How hadn’t you noticed this sooner? You were so fixated on him that your brain didn’t process him walking over to your nightstand. He grabbed an all too familiar pink vibrator from the drawer, causing you to swallow. Hard.

“You’re going to hold this onto that pretty clit of yours. If you move it without permission I won’t let you cum, understood?” Colby asked, his voice an octave lower than it usually was. You nodded, watching as he turned the vibrator up to its highest setting. You gulped nervously as he handed it to you, watching as you placed it onto your throbbing heat. The vibrations made you whimper, your core desperate for some sort of release.

Colby grabbed you by your legs, dragging you down to the edge of the mattress. He kneeled down in front of you placing kisses on the inside of your thighs. Teasingly he brought a finger to your entrance, your hips pleading for him to get on with it. “So wet for me all ready, all over a little plastic toy,” Colby purred, soaking in your desperate noises.

He brought one finger inside of you, then two, curling him deeply. Your back arched off of the bed as the brunette picked up the pace with his fingers, abusing your g spot. “Look at that, your backs arching for me and I haven’t even bent you over yet,” Colby observed, smirking as he glanced at his best friend. Sam could feel his boner aching against the fabric of his tight jeans.

“Bet Sam couldn’t make you feel like this, could he?” Colby asked, squeezing your thighs as he finger fucked you. You bit your bottom lip, attempting to restrain yourself from mindlessly agreeing with him. Sam smirked at your resistance.

“Looks like you’re going to have to try a little harder then that Colby,”

Sam’s words cut Colby’s ego like a knife, his blue eyes narrowing as he centered his attention back on you. In a swift motion he spread open your cunt, before playing the vibrator back directly on your clit. You squirmed under the feeling of his fingers and merciless vibrations, throwing your head back as you moaned. “You can take it, I know you can. Go ahead and cum for me,” Colby ordered, admiring the sight of you crumbling before him.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tighten, a mischievous smirk dancing across Colby’s lips as your walls squeezed him tighter. “Go ahead and tell Sammy how good you feel,” Colby said, cocking his head to his best friend. You bucked your hips against Colby’s fingers, the filthy confession spewing from your lips,

“Fuck it feels so fucking good Sammy, I-I-I-”

Your orgasm was about to crash down on you, Colby’s spare hand turning your head.

“Look at Sam while you cum for me,” He whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You gripped the handle of the vibrator harshly, whimpering. You looked at your blonde lover, hardly able to take in his expression as you fell apart on Colby’s fingers. Sam couldn’t take it anymore, unbuckling his belt as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He knew it was only a matter of time until he made you feel that way, but the waiting was only driving him more insane.

As you settled down from your high you went to move your vibrator, Colby’s strong hand stopping you. “What did I say? Keep it here,” He ordered. You felt his fingers slide out of you, your legs beginning to tremble from the overstimulation. He brought his cum covered fingers to your lips, grinning as you squirmed beneath him.

“Open your mouth,”

The command was simple, one you followed without a second thought.

“Now suck them clean whore,”

Colby shoved both of his fingers into your mouth, satisfied as he felt your tongue swirling around them. You were genuinely sucking them clean, the taste of your own juices coating your tongue. Your body felt electric, the sensation of the vibrator causing whimpers to non stop escape your throat.

“You dirty bitch. Turn over, all fours. I want you to look directly at Sam as I fucking ruin you,”

You struggled to get into position with the vibrator on your clit, the sound of Colby’s belt clinking sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. Your eyes landed on Sam, who was his own panting mess. You could tell he was trying to pace himself, his face pink as he pumped his shaft teasingly slow. He knew this wasn’t the main event, just a show. But fuck, if only you could see yourself.

Your lips parted as Colby rubbed his tip up and down your slick, the way your back arched causing Colby pushing you down further into the bed. If it were up to Sam he’d burn this image into mind forever.

Your legs nearly gave out as Colby pushed himself inside of you, his strong hands holding you by your waist. “Fucking shit, you were made for me,” Colby groaned. He gripped your waist tighter, pinching at the tender flesh. You could feel him bottom out, his tip brushing against your g spot. You whined as you sank lower into the mattress, any composure you had completely washed away.

Colby started off slow at first, taking in the feeling of your walls milking him. The merciless vibration on your clit was overstimulating you to euphoria, your body practically vibrating on its own. “You’ve done so good for me baby, you can take the vibrator off of your pretty clit now,” Colby purred, continuing his teasingly slow strokes. You bit your bottom lip as you removed it from your cunt, your folds aching as you set it aside on the bed.

“There’s only one more thing I need you to do for me,” Colby panted, trying to keep himself together.

You licked your dry lips as you maintained eye contact with Sam, watching him quietly whimper as he jerked his cock to the sight of you.

“W-what’s that?”

“Be as loud as you can.”

Out of instinct you went to ask him what he meant, his hips snapping into yours without sudden warning. You couldn’t control the sounds that escaped your throat as Colby pounded into you. He gripped your waist so hard you could feel bruises forming, his cock abusing your g spot as he pleased.

“Fuck! Colby!”

His name was all you began to know, your vision growing hazy as he fucked you into the mattress. The brunette leaned forward, pressing the side of your face into the sheets below you. “Thats it, let Sam know who’s making you feel this good,” Colby groaned, grabbing a handful of your hair.

Colby’s thrust were merciless, his body seemingly have a mind of its own. For a brief moment he almost forgot about the bet entirely, too enamored by the feeling of your cunt taking him so well. It wasn’t until he heard Sam’s faint whine that he snapped back into reality. “Such a good girl, taking your owner, so well,” Colby spat, his orgasm approaching. He grabbed a fist full of your hair, yanking you towards him.

Your back was pressed against his chest, his mouth buried into the crook of your neck as he fucked you from behind. He snaked one hand to your throat, squeezing the sides gently. You swallowed under the feeling of his hand, Colby recognizing your body getting close again. With his other hand he began circling your overstimulated clit, causing you to cry out. “There we go, give poor Sammy a good show and cum for me. Cum on my dick,” Colby ordered. He kissed the side of your neck sloppily, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin.

“Feels soooo good,” You slurred, the knot in your stomach a rope threatening to snap. Your eyes were screwed shut, unable to open from the addicting pleasure. Colby squeezed your throat, his hips beginning to stutter. “Look at Sam as you cum for me, fucking do it. You’re mine,” He ordered. His words sent you over the edge, your small hands grabbing at his wrist as you came. Faint curses escaped Colby’s lips as he quickly pulled out, forcing your face back into the mattress as he jerked his cock.

You could feel the warm ropes of cum paint your ass, the tender flesh now coated with his seed. You were a panting mess, swallowing hard as you struggled to regain your breath.

Sam eyed you carefully, recognizing the exhaustion your body was experiencing. He glanced at Colby, who was quick to switch spots with him. The brunette had an indisputable look of pride painted across his face, one that annoyed Sam. The blonde stripped, tossing his clothes aside. Gently Sam flipped you onto your back, taking in your abused figure. He brushed some stray hairs out of your face, gently stroking your cheek as he admired you.

You slowly opened your eyes, your body coming down from the never ending high the boys planned on providing you. “Hi,” You greeted, giving him a small smile. Sam returned the sweet gesture, Colby’s presence fading away into the background as he focused on you. “Hi,” He replied, your perky nipples rubbing against his chest. You whimpered at the slightest sensation, causing Sam’s eyebrows to raise.

“We don’t have to keep going, I know Colby purposefully went hard-” Sam began rambling, his words being cut off by your soft lips against his. Sam returned the kiss eagerly, addicted to the feeling of the fire you sparked within him. You pulled away first, giving him a serious look. “I know the safe word you know. I want to keep going. I can handle whatever you give me,” You said boldly. Sam frowned as he heard Colby snicker.

“Whatever you say princess,”

Sam tilted your head to the side, preying on the side of your neck Colby hadn’t touched. His lips started off gentle, pecking soft kisses across your skin. Involuntarily he felt your hips buck up against his, rubbing against his hard cock. He began sucking at your neck, littering your skin with as many marks and bruises as he could. He wanted to see you covered in his love marks. He wanted to see you struggle to cover them up. To blush like crazy when anyone noticed them.

He kissed down your neck to your chest, gently pulling and twisting at your nipples. Your soft noises were sounds of encouragement, his lips stopping right above your waist. “Are you sure you’re able to handle me?” Sam asked. He teasingly pressed two kisses lower, his hot breath fanning over your puffy folds. You nodded, mumbling a verbal yes as your hips bucked upwards.

The blonde licked a stripe up your cunt, your juices coating his tongue. “Shit Sam-” You gasped, your hand flying down to his blonde hair. You tugged at the roots, desperately trying to drag his mouth back to your cunt. Sam met your gaze, smirking as he placed a light kiss on your folds. “Cmon princess, use my mouth the way you need. Make yourself cum on my tongue like the desperate slut I know you are,” He huffed, flattening his tongue for you to use.

Sam wrapped his arms around your thighs as he dove into your dripping cunt. You could feel him lap at your folds as if your taste was addicting, the blonde sucking at your abused clit as if his life depended on it. Colby could feel himself getting hard again, the brunette in denial that he was getting turned on by this. But the way you tugged at Sam’s hair, mixed in with the lewd noises of him lapping at your cunt, was too much for the brunette to ignore.

Sam craved friction, his selfish needs causing him to buck his own hips against the mattress. He was desperate for any form of pleasure, his own whimpers muffled by your cunt as he stuck his tongue inside of your entrance. You just tasted so fucking good, he couldn’t help but be greedy. He continued humping the sheets as your thighs tightened around him, the blonde sensing what was coming.

You could feel another orgasm approaching, your legs violently shaking. Sam forced your lips open, his strong hands keeping them pried apart. This orgasm felt different, the constant overstimulation pushing your body to new heights. “Fuck Sam I- I can’t hold back any longer, feels so fucki-” You babbled, your thighs trembling as you squeezed around Sam’s head. You felt a different cord inside of you snap, your juices coating Sam’s face as you came.

Your face was beet red as you realized what you had done, the blonde unfazed as he licked your cunt clean. You had never, ever squirted from head before. You sat up, embarrassed as Sam continued licking you clean. At this point he was licking your inner thigh, ensuring you were thoroughly cleaned by his tongue. “That was the hottest thing I think i’ve ever seen,” Sam chuckled, slightly out of breath. He marveled at your bright red face, leaning over you.

“I’m so so sorry I-”

Sam frowned at the sound of your apology, his hand harshly grabbing your chin.

“Don’t apologize, if it were up to me i’d make you do that all night long,” Sam began. He froze mid sentence, glancing up at his best friend. It was relishing seeing in the same chair he once sat, cock in hand as he watched Sam have his way with you. “But unfortunately I have a competition to win,” He finished. Sam grabbed your legs, sitting them on both of his shoulders.

He slapped the head of his cock on your puffy folds, the feeling alone causing you to audibly whine. “I’m going to fucking break you,” Sam grunted, pushing himself inside of you. Your body was spent, your entire body feeling as if it was going to be engulfed in flames. “Sammy,” You whined. The blonde leaned forward, allowing you to claw at his back as you pleased.

Your walls dragged him in, causing him to bottom out quicker than he expected. As much as Sam would never admit it, he knew he needed to act quickly to make you cum one last time. He could feel his own orgasm coming, and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. “One more, that’s all I want,” Sam cooed, picking up the pace. You felt like you were going to split in half, your moans jagged and incoherent babbling and whimpers. You could feel tears flooding your waterline, the overstimulation becoming overwhelming.

You didn’t think being cock drunk was real until that very moment, where nothing else seemed to exist but Sam and his cock pounding into your dripping cunt. “You feel so fucking good, you know that don’t you?” Sam asked, groaning as he snapped his hips back into yours. Your nails were digging into his back, the skin surely red with fresh scratches. That pain you were unintentionally providing, along with your walls squeezing him to death, Sam thought he may cum too quick if he thought about it too much.

A devious thought entered Sam’s mind, one he was surprised Colby hadn’t thought of.

“You know what I think i’m gonna do?”

The blonde briefly glanced at Colby, whose eyebrows were raised.

You barely heard what Sam said, hanging on for dear life as he abused your g spot. “I think i’m gonna cum inside of you, make you mine,” Sam borderline announced, resuming his full focus onto you. He got close to your ear, ensuring you had heard him. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? To be my personal cumdump?” Sam spat. You whined in agreement, a final rope in your stomach beginning to tighten. Your legs were trembling, your throat strained from all of the noises you couldn’t help but make.

“Awe that’s it, cum for me. You’re gonna look so pretty full of my cum,”

His words barely registered, your vision getting hazy as you came again. You could feel yourself getting dizzy, your mind spinning from your fourth orgasm. You were panting like a dog, faintly feeling Sam cum inside of you before pulling out. You were covered in sweat and tears, your mouth dry and pussy dripping with cum.

It wasn’t long before you felt a cool wet wash cloth brush against your forehead, wiping away the sweat before brushing away the tears. As your vision settled you recognized Colby’s concerned eyes, soaking in your expression as he cleaned you. “Hi Colbs,” You whispered. You looked for Sam, your eyes instead finding Colby had came a second time, his white ropes painting his stomach. “You can clean yourself up you know,” You say, trying to move his wrist away from tending to you.

“You’re more important,” He grumbled, his complete focus on you. Sam returned into your line of sight, tossing Colby a towel. You had been repositioned to the edge of the bed, the blonde kneeling in front of you to clean your abused cunt. His blue eyes looked up to greet yours, his lips pressing a loving kiss onto your thigh. “This may sting,” He warned. Sam gently began wiping your cunt, the feeling alone making you grab his wrist. He went slower, careful to avoid your puffy clit. They wanted to ensure you were clean and taken care of, no matter what.

You sat up on your elbows, your eyes widening as you looked at Sam’s back. Long red scratches trailed down his shoulder blades to his waist. “Holy fuck Sam i’m so sorry,” You rambled, immediately feeling bad. Sam chuckled as he admired your horrified facial expression. “It’s a badge of honor, don’t apologize. And may I say, a token of victory?” He asked curiously. You weren’t sure how to announce a winner, both boys overstimulating you into heaven.

Two sets of curious eyes landed on you, trying to conceal their eagerness.

You glanced between both boys, shrugging.

“I can’t decide, guess we’ll just have to do this again tomorrow,”

[hobicakess]

PLAYING DANGEROUS | (one)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: warnings: no thoroughly edited, EW Ai , character death (nothing to cry about), black/plus sized coded reader, talks of murder, talks of torture, corporate evilness, violence, Mc reads hobi to filth, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), one maknae introduction, maknae helping cause chaos, cigarettes, Yoonie is an angry kitty this chapter, bratty mc, mc is kinda a bitch (a bad one at that), unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday) SMUT— nothing too crazy , choking, sub mc , missionary, mating press , man handling (yummy)

a/n: HEYYY omg this took me so long to write and it's just a little over 2k words... LMAO I suck i know, but we're getting there I pinkie promise. I really hope you all enjoy this and constructive criticism is welcome!!

TAGLIST: @sumzysworld @bbgniecyy @paramedicnerd004 @heartsbr0ken @grltwin @superbbananananana @secfir @darkuni63 @thisladysperspective @p34rluv @secfir @sarcastic-cookie @coffeedepressionsoup @ot7nem @italiekim @cynicalbitch666 @jalexd @whenthebeatdrop-beatdrop

2 MONTHS BEFORE JACKS ESCAPE

Kim multimedia station.

The place of business was always busy and there was never not anything to be done, Endless reports and stories in need of being written, the podcast teams always chattering about the hottest topics.

KMMs was a journalist's dream — your dream.

You were a known face around the company both online and in person. A pretty foreigner who was damn good at her job and that made you favored by the late CEO Kim. You were always hand picked by him to attend press conferences in his favor. He treated you kindly, allowing you into a large world of business pulling strings to get you the best stories helping you— a once broke freshly graduated English major climbing up in the world of reporting.

It's only been three months since CEO Kim passed away and the company was changing fast. You were grateful that you weren't a part of the many that were fired and replaced by new faces and AI, and you were now noticing how low the viewers were on podcasts, social media and blogs.

KMM was dying out very slowly and that meant you might go away with it. You were dedicated to your work, and the company that helped you become the person you were today.

And you were willing to do anything to not be forgotten.

Sleeping was not on the agenda right now.

A quick double tap to a cell phone showed an awfully bright screen reading 4:40 am. You had been lying in your bed mind racing while staring at your wall for the past hour and a half.

Jack in the box.

Rolling out the tangled bedsheets and arms you pull on a large T-shirt that'd been discarded a long with the other items of clothing on the floor shuffling towards the desk in the corner of your room. Laptop already open from your previous research when you pull out a pack of cigarettes from your drawer before plunging deep into the web. Your mouse clicks every site as your pen moved furiously taking in all the information you can about said serial killer.

“On May 14th, 2018 Serial Killer Jack In The Box was finally caught after a murdering spree in Seoul. The killings of ordinary outgoing individuals taken with a quick swipe of a knife and a long torture method.”

"Before his kills Jack likes to taunt his victim. He ironically sends them a Jack in the box to let them know they're next. The next few days said victim lives in constant fear, looking over their shoulder, leading the mostly known outgoing victim to slowly isolate themselves from loved ones in fear of them being hurt, eventually this leads to insomnia and in some cases hallucinations and histera. Then Jack disappears for a while making them think they're finally okay and he's gone until he wasn't."

The scoff that left your lips echoed through the quiet room, breathing out the nicotine smoke from your Cancer stick.

So Jack was an antisocial loser and took out his lack of social skills on people who could.

"No one knows of Jack's real identity. Police have reported that the man has lived many lives and has owned many faces for the past 11 years. Reporters have tried their hardest for the past 4 years to get a one on one interview with the man but unfortunately he refuses to talk only resorting to violence."

A reporter says he went for a handshake and left with two missing fingers.

Another says he watched the man bang his head on the wall hard enough to bleed when he asked the murderer's real name.

A broken arm??

“Fuck” you huff flicking the ash at the butt of your cigarette. You stare at the mugshot photos supplied at the end of the article. Dark wide eyes, shaggy black hair falling over his forehead, the piercings sticking from the bridge of his nose eyebrow and top lip.

The look definitely screams psycho but…. he was kinda hot. It took everything in you not to go and click the endless fanfiction that you stumbled upon.

A pair of warm lips press onto your shoulder causing you to jump. Turning to look over your shoulder at the shirtless sight of Kim Namjoon.

“We have to be up in four hours, baby, come back to bed.”

You hum into his embrace with a pout stubbing out the cigarette into the pink ashtray beside your computer. “Did you know Jack went through eight lawyers? Until one day he randomly called Kim Seokjin. That high profile guy from the law firm we're partnered with? they must know each other”

Though Namjoons attention was not on the words that were leaving your mouth. Hands wander all over your body while placing kisses on your neck, and cheeks.

“He literally bit the finger of the last reporter clean off. Like do you know how much force you have to put into that? I think he reads too much gothic liter—”

Cutting you off with a quick grab of your jaw turning your head to connect his plump lips to own. Pulling away with a cheeky dimpled smirk, “I’m not sure how I feel about you talking about another man.”

“Well you shouldn't feel any type of way because you aren't MY man.”

You squeal when you're lifted up from your chair and throw over a broad shoulder. He huffs when he throws you onto the memory foam comforter, your (his) shirt lifting up your thighs exposing your bare cunt. Immediately his big body was hovering over you as he slightly pressed his body weight onto you.

“Get off you dick” pushing and smacking his tan shoulders but that did nothing for you at this moment. “Well I'm trying to put it in you.”

He bullies your legs up over his shoulders as he taps his hard piece against the wetness between your thighs. “If something happens to me during this case I swear” choking on your words as he slowly but surely presses his thick head into your cunt.

“Fuck — may the man himself strike me down.”

Hand reaching to grip your throat smashing your lips together. Luckily your mind left the thoughts of the serial killer , the only thing on your mind right now was Namjoon and his ridiculously large cockm

It wasn't weird for you to obsess over your assignments to the point where it was all you thought about. Everyone does that.

Though this one you couldn't seem to finesse your way out of. Without the help of the late Kim you'd have to pull your own strings to get what you wanted and now that Namjoon was in charge he loved making your life harder.

“Y/n.”

Your head snaps up from your laptop hand stalling from moving on your notepad face to face with gorgeously pale Detective Min Yoongi.

“Yoonie” you smile, motioning for him to sit in front of you. He looked different from when you last saw him all the months ago, more tired and cat- like you guessed it was from the heavy responsibilities that came with the position as Chief of Seouls police department

“Did you just call to look at me?”

“Sorry it's just been . . a while” you push the large Iced Americano towards him as a peace offering. He gladly accepted it with an amused raise of an eyebrow, “You know I just wait for your call.”

“The phone works both ways” you internally wince , you sounded like an estranged father talking to his child.

“What do you want?” A frown spread across your face and lips, shutting your laptop. “I can't call an old friend for a friendly coffee date.”

You waited for his answer as he took his time generously drinking from his plastic cup. With a smack of his lips he sat the cup down leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You only call me ‘Yoonie’ when you want something” eyes scanning over the scatter of papers and notes taking up your side of the table.

“This must be serious”

Hands going to clasp under your chin you sigh, cutting the bullshit. “Three years ago you were the lead investigator on the Jack in the box case which brought you from rookie detective to Chief of police.”

“I was wondering if you could help old friend out tell me what you know about-”

“No.” He cuts you off with little to no thought.

“No? Why not? This isn't our first rodeo Min”

There were plenty of times Yoongi helped you with stories without a second thought. He'd give you case files, witnesses, and anything you needed but why not now?

“Anybody but him”

You scoffed at him, irritation rising in your body. “I need this story not anyone else.”

“Well I can't help you, princess.”

“That's bullshit!” Your voice raises causing a couple people around you to turn their attention towards the two of you. He stood up, chair scraping the floor, slamming a few dollars on the table. “Call me if you need anything else.”

Turning on his heel he leaves you sitting there in your slowly growing rage. You quickly hopped from your seat chasing after him, managing to catch up with his long strides. “Yoongi slow down dammit”

He twirls around grabbing onto you by your arm, “Who gave you this story.

“Namjoon he-” you whine as his grip tightens on your arm as his eyes slit. The angry red scar on his face makes his angry stare look even more intimidating. “You don't understand how dangerous Jack is. Just because he's behind bars doesn't mean he won't have people on the outside that will whack you for being a nosy reporter.”

He softens his hold, lifting his hand to rub your cold cheek. “If something happens to you. . .” He shakes his head letting you go.

“Sit this one out Y/N I don't want to see you in our precinct mortuary.” with that he walks away disappearing into the crowd.

You sniff doing the walk of shame back to the Café sitting back in your seat with your head in your hands

Detective Min Yoongi.

“Excuse me Ma’am” the blonde barista came over holding a box of blueberry doughnuts which happened to be your favorite. “It's on the house.. everyone saw your fight with your boyfriend, manager said this might help cheer you up.”

“Oh! Thank you but he wasn't my boyfriend, just a work colleague.” You tried to defend yourself but the sympathy in his eyes only grew so you accepted the treat with another thank you. “What is your name? I've never seen you here before.”

A soft brightens his pretty face, eyes scrunching slightly adding to the prettiness of his face. “Park Jimin, Ma’am.”

MEANWHILE

The buzz of the electrically wired door opening didn't alert the man that stayed deep in the corner of his cell. “Long time no see.”

“Why now?” the visitor asks, “After all this time you choose now.”

He giggled, the haunting sound bouncing off the walls. “Did you bring what I asked for”

The visitor threw the pictures and the box of cigarettes into the cell. “Answer my question.”

“It's been three longgg years.” He finally answered, moving from his corner to pick up the photos. “Tell me is she this gorgeous in person?”

“Just for her?”

“And I need to stretch my legs” he laughs louder this time the high pitched sound echoed even through the thick steel door that kept him locked in tight.

Jack was ready to play more games

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

[skelly-words]

Knock First Next Time

(NSFW Levi x Reader)

MDNI 18+ only

I just woke up and this was in my drive, bro, idk it's crazy. I don't even wanna talk about it anymore, just read the tags and don't look at me.

Reader has a cooch

Tags: excessive porn, Levi being a loser, Monster fucking-ish, double penetration, anal and p in v, tail play (is that a thing), biting, choking, undiscussed kinks (but bffr it's fine in fantasy), he has two dicks and they're blue with bioluminescent cum, that's my tag

Synopsis: You walk in on Levi playing eroge, pls just read the tags and don't make me explain it.

Wc: 4.2k

“Levi?” you yell through the door to his room. “You skipped lunch so I brought you something.”

You knock persistently at the wood. It’s late in the afternoon and nobody has seen Leviathan all day. Most of the brothers aren’t worried about him, citing his commonly reclusive behavior. Even if this is regular, you want to make sure he at least remembers to eat even if he is wrapped up in his new anime or RPG binge.

“I don’t know if you can hear me or not but I’m coming in.” You knock a couple of times in warning before you swing the door open.

The lights in his room are so dim you can barely see his silhouette as he sits, hunched over, in his gaming chair. Levi’s playing some kind of RPG. An erotic one judging by the big-tittied anime girls and multi-colored tentacles moving across the screen. And it would be nice if you had respected his privacy and left his room, but that would be boring and predictable. You calmly set the plate and sandwich on the edge of his bed as you approach the back of his chair.

As you get closer, you can hear muffled sound coming from his headphones. No wonder he couldn’t hear you knocking. You stay quiet and out of his peripheral vision, slowly reaching to lift the left side of his headphones away from his ear.

“Wow, Levi,” you whisper into his ear. “I didn't know you were into tentacle hentai.”

“No!” he shrieks, frantically trying to close out of the game. He’s too shocked, shaking so badly he can’t get the mouse to the exit button before you’re pulling his chair back from his desk. “That's not what this is. It isn't what it looks like.”

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like you blew us all off to play eroge all day. Just wait until your brothers hear about this.”

“No, please don’t, it’s not in like a weird way. It’s an RPG. I can’t resist a good RPG even if most of the art and story arc is erotic.”

“How respectful,” you say half-sarcastically. You’re equally unimpressed and entertained. “You’re making me interested. Talk to me about it.” You lean against his chair, tilting him back to look up at you. 

“No!” He says for the third time.

“What? Is that your new favorite word?” You tilt your head to the side to see if he looks any less embarrassed sideways. “Can I play with you?”

You have ulterior motives when asking, but Levi doesn’t seem to pick up on that. He shakes his head and buries his blush in his hands. 

“Absolutely not. Get out, and please don’t tell my brothers. Especially Mammon, he’ll extort me for money. And I can’t handle the teasing from Asmo…” He keeps mumbling about whatever, but you aren’t really listening to it. 

You pull his chair further away from his desk to make room for you to stand in front of him. The art style is interesting, and you click through some of the dialogue, but he’s too far progressed for you to understand the story at all. For all you know, the excuse that he’s playing it for the plot could be total bullshit.

“Hey, stop that.” Levi stands up and snatches the mouse from you, unintentionally clicking the story along. He’s recovered from his brief heart attack enough to get up from his gaming chair, but not enough to notice how his body effectively traps you against his desk.

The screen changes to the actual gameplay, which is somehow more lewd than the story portion of the game. A woman is spread across the center of the screen with a slimy blue tentacle pressed into each of her holes. There’s a slightly smaller tentacle too that wraps up the woman’s leg and lays across her clit. A timer bar steadily decreases across the top of the screen. 

Levi’s frozen. You probably think he’s such a fucking pervert now, and it doesn’t help that he can feel himself getting hard while standing so close behind you. It’s even worse that he’s going to have to lose this level now, ruining his perfect run of the game.

Your hand overlaps his on the mouse as you drag the cursor to the pause button. His fingers still don't move, hovering the cursor uselessly over the button.

"You're gonna run out of time," you keep a playful lilt to your voice. "Either pause it or play."

He debates for a second longer, doing whatever mental gymnastics he usually goes through to figure out how to proceed. He barely misses a beat. The cursor drops away from the pause button. You don't really pay attention to the gameplay itself, focusing on feeling his hand beneath yours, the lewd sounds echoing from the abandoned headphones looped around Levi's neck, and his growing boner pressing against your lower back.

"You're good," you say, half-impressed and concerned with the dramatics of the female's orgasm. The level finishes, and Levi keeps his perfect record with a three-star score.

"Do you still want me to show you how to play?" It's the boldest thing he can manage to say, which isn't saying much when it comes out so pathetically. He's begging as if the answer is hopelessly 'no.'

"Sure."

You can feel when Levi exhales, relieved, against your temple. His hand twitches beneath yours on the mouse as he drags the cursor to exit the game and start a new save.

Apparently, his whole spiel about playing for the story wasn't complete bullshit. He points out important plot points and shows you different strategies, but it's hard to concentrate on anything he says.

As his nerves dissolve, replaced by pure nerdiness, he pulls his chair back up to the desk, sits down, and settles you in his lap. You doubt he's completely aware of what he's doing with how engrossed he is with the game. When he's teaching you how to play, he has complete tunnel vision.

Levi lets you hold the mouse, reversing the roles so that he's guiding your hand. His unoccupied arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him with a gasp whenever you come close to losing.

You find yourself surprisingly into it, despite never playing an eroge before. Your left hand stays glued to the keyboard, sprawled across the controls as you concentrate on the game. You're literally sweating as you struggle to finish the level (or make the level finish, either way).

A yellow banner unrolls across the screen, and the protagonist frowns at your one-star win.

"Shit, that was kinda intense." You sigh and lean back into his chest. Intense is an understatement. Adrenaline was making your hands shake and breath stutter. It didn't help that Levi was being so generous with his touch. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was pulling you against his bulge on purpose, but he was probably just being absentminded.

"It's fun, right?"

"Yeah, and the art is pretty hot too. It's fucked up that you need both hands to play, know what I mean?" You let go of the controls to pry his arm from around your waist. It starts off with you innocently playing with his fingers as he contemplates what you’re talking about. While it's obvious, he tries to find an alternative meaning.

"Help me out, Levi?" You bring his hand down to rest on the front of your shorts.

He stops breathing and he freezes. A few seconds pass as his brain takes a second to catch up. Even when he relaxes, there's still tension in how he holds himself.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

You roll your eyes at his question and go back to clicking through the next segment of the story.

Levi's touches begin hesitantly, barely brushing you as he unties the drawstring of the loose shorts. You try to stay cool. Somebody has to, and with the way he struggles to untie the simple bow, it's not going to be him.

"C'mon, Levi." You'd been playing for at least an hour, becoming more and more wound up by the erotic imagery the entire time. Maybe at the beginning, you were being purposefully suggestive to tease him, but now it felt like you actually needed him to touch you. Not that you were into tentacles or anything. You especially weren't turned on by the way his tail had loosely wrapped around your ankle at some point.

"You're not even playing anymore." He tried to sound smooth and confident, but there was still a shake in his voice and hands. Even the hand guiding yours on the mouse felt a little sweatier.

You clicked through the rest of the story quickly, skimming over the text and pausing for longer when particularly provocative characters or lines flashed across the screen.

Levi's fingers slipped down the front of your shorts as you started the next level of the game. You'd barely managed to win the last level, and your gameplay only got sloppier as his index finger pushed your underwear to the side. The tip of his middle finger slipped up your slit, stopping when he felt your clit.

You squirmed in his lap, spreading your legs across his thighs.

"Pay attention. You're losing." He critiques your technique further as the pad of his finger loops lazily over your nub. He's back to being fully immersed in the stupid RPG.

You can't pay attention when he slips his finger lower to tease your entrance just to make you wetter. He plays with your pussy so easily. You don't notice anything weird about it until you moan and he laughs, mumbling, "Just like the game."

"Are you fucking kidding me, Levi?" You're not mad that he's doing it, more pissed that it's working. He's following the motions you should be doing on the desperate, slutty, moaning woman on the screen.

"What? I'm giving you hints."

You lose that level, but Levi doesn't. He gently coaxes an orgasm out of you with a finger on your clit. You cum around nothing, staring enviously at the character stuffed so full on the screen.

"It's too bad we can't recreate the whole thing." You try to sound nonchalant, but your legs shake a little as you turn to face him. You straddle his lap as best you can without the armrests getting in the way.

"W-what do you mean?" He stutters now that it isn't a game anymore. His eyes flick from the red losing screen to your face.

"Don't play dumb." You can feel his bulge against the front of your shorts as you lean closer to him. It's hard to keep eye contact when filth spills out of your mouth. "I wanna be full like that."

"Are you serious? 'Cause-" He cuts himself off with a hand over his mouth.

"What?"

"I don't wanna say it. It's so gross." He speaks between the small gaps in his fingers.

"I'm into slimy tentacles, how gross could it be?" You gently pull his hand away from his mouth. "Tell me."

"U-um, I, er-" He clears his throat and shuts his eyes, as if not looking at you makes it easier. "I have two, um, well you know. But it's not normal, so if you think it's weird don't feel bad, okay?"

"Are you shitting me?" It's your turn to cover your mouth. "Sorry, I meant, can I see?"

He nods, dropping his head and hands to untie his sweats. You push his hands out of the way when he gets slow and loses his first wave of confidence. It's impossible to pull his sweats down in the cramped position forced by the gaming chair. After thirty seconds too long of struggling, you huff in frustration.

"Let's just go to your bed."

"The tub?"

"Yeah, the tub." You start to wiggle off his lap, but he stops you.

Levi roughly grabs your thighs. He's clumsy when he stands up but makes up for it with the fact that you weigh next to nothing to him. Your hands balance on his chest, working upwards to hold onto his shoulders.

His tail slips higher to notch in the bend of your knee as he takes unsteady steps towards his bathtub. The cool porcelain bowl is almost overflowing with pillows and plushies. Your legs loop over either side of the tub as you spill out of his arms. You sink into the tub, submerging in the pillows as you would in water. Your hips stay lifted in the air, legs held up by the tub and Levi's cool fingers.

You can hardly feel his shaky touch as it creeps up your thighs, not until he brushes the hem of your shorts. He's so light and cautious, afraid for you to regret your decision and run, every movement is testing the water.

"Don't tease me, Levi." You gently tug the sleeve of his hoodie, dragging his hand between your thighs again so he can feel how warm you are. And as if he could ever resist you after that, you softly whisper, "Please, I wanna see you."

With a groan, his hand slides higher, cuffing the crease of your thigh. The loose leg of the night shorts bunches up to show off the lacy blue panties that barely cover you at all.

"I don't even know what to do with you." His other hand palms his bulge through his sweatpants, thumbing over each cockhead through the layers of material.

It's hard not to laugh, not meanly, but Levi's so cute like this. His hands fall to his sides, tightening and relaxing like he needs something to hold onto. He's focused on how you move while you slip the shorts off your legs.

He fumbles with his sweats, still as clumsy as he was before. There's a light tremble to the motions of his fingers as the knot comes undone and his pants slide down.

Levi kneels between your thighs in his light gray boxers. You're caged in by his arms, still clothed in your dark shirt. His hips slot against yours, and you can feel how much precum has soaked through the fabric of his underwear. The stickiness between you makes a mess of your panties too; it slickens the friction against your sensitive clit. His hips set a steady rhythm of rutting into you, shallow breaths beating against your neck with each rough roll.

"Okay," he says between breaths, "but you can't freak out."

Levi leans in to hesitantly kiss you. His left hand slips down to his boxers, shuffling them down and around his thighs. The kiss is a distraction, capturing your attention with the slide of his tongue against your bottom lip while he presses the head of his dick against your thigh.

You gasp into the kiss pulling away to watch him push your panties to the side. The flushed purple at the tip of his upper cock fades to a blue that almost matches the lace trim digging into the crease of your thigh. The tip of his lower dick is buried inside you. Precum drips onto your navel as he fucks further into you, forming a snail trail up your abdomen to mark how deep he is.

Your tight tank top bunches higher and higher around your waist, inching up with each thrust until the material is scrunched under your tits. Levi's mouth latches around your nipple through the thin cotton, soaking it through with his spit as he sucks on you. He tugs the strap off your opposite shoulder, letting his fingers trail down your chest. The cool touch makes your nipple stiffen as he rolls the bud between his thumb and forefinger, a sharp exhale leaving your lips.

Levi's mouth becomes greedier as you moan freely. The seal of his mouth muffles his own sounds as his dick hits deeper, finding spots that make your hips buck back against him.

"I want both," you whine. Your hand drops to where his neglected cock slides up your tummy through a light-blue puddle. It throbs in your hand as you milk him for more precum until the slick drips between your fingers.

"Fuck, you were serious?" Levi pops off your tit to look down at you with a lopsided grin. The hand cupping your breast leaves, crawling down your stomach to collect some of his mess on the way to your butt. In the low light of his LED strips, the streaks on your skin almost glow.

He lets you keep him warm while he preps you. Hips stay flush with yours while he focuses on pushing his middle finger past your rim. He's so slow and gentle, groaning into your ear as he slides deeper. It's too slow and methodical, so torturous that you're breath catches with each push and pull.

Your messy hand slips lower, leaving the tip of his dick to help him out. The tip of your finger presses alongside his as he fucks into you.

"Shit, Levi." Your words come between hot pants. "I need one more."

"What a fucking filthy mouth." He laughs softly and catches your lips in a kiss. You're perfectly pliant, letting him fill you up, even his tongue tasting you too. A third finger stretches you open and you whimper into his mouth as your muscles adjust.

A sick squish comes from between your bodies, matching the milky stains that dotted the pillows beneath you. It takes all of Levi's self-control to keep his hips still when you're tucked under him like this. Thighs spread out while he fills up your cute pussy.

His breath catches as you tug his wrist away, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

"I think I'm ready, baby." Your hand wraps around his to guide it higher, up to the base of his lower dick. "Just, go slow, okay?"

"Uh-huh." He nods into your neck as he begins to pull out of you. The tip of his dick throbs when he taps it against your rim. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum so fast."

"I-It's okay," you stumble when the point of his tail bumps your clit. It's a shame that you're so empty, his pre dribbles out of your slit as you clench around nothing. "Me too."

The smooth scales of his tail raise goosebumps on your thigh as it moves across your skin. It winds down the crease of your right hip and up around to the left. He uses it to lift your hips up better and take the pressure off your legs. You can tell it's a good angle before he even pushes in. The head of his cock sinks into your ass, there's barely any resistance with how slick your pussy left him. His warm breaths dampen your neck, maybe some of it's spit with how it drips a little toward your chest.

You rub the tip of his neglected dick up and down your cunny, just enough to make him whine. His tail hikes your hips up and he sinks into you, not all at once, but enough for a sharp moan leave your split lips. He slows to a gentle grind, trying not to let out anymore embarrassing sounds in your ear, trying not to shove more into you no matter how good it feels.

His teeth sink into your neck, biting down to muffle the groans while he tries not to fuck into you.

"It's okay," you breathe out, "just go slow."

"Mmhmm," Levi hums, tongue laving over the indents of his teeth. The first roll of his hips is generous, and he bites back any noise when his dentition digs into you. Your moans pitch up as he fills you one inch at a time. The scales on his tail are cool to the touch, just like his fingers. The thin end flicks your clit up and down, making you leak and squish around him.

Your cunt is twitching as forces more dick into you, drooling down to lubricate your ass as you get closer. Just the way he bites you, grunting between gritted teeth as he ruts into you, has your poor pussy sucking him in more.

"You did it, baby." Levi's smile presses into your neck. He sits up on his knees, leaving a parting kiss on your lips as he pulls back. His hands trace the swell in your tummy, the fuzzy hair at the base of his cock bumping your swollen nub as he grinds into you. "I didn't think I'd fit."

A soft giggle trickles, rose-scented and sultry, out of your pretty mouth. "You fit fucking perfect."

A grin tugs at his mouth and he pulls back a little. The drag is delicious. You can feel every vein and ridge on him as your holes clamp down from sensitivity. He kisses you slow, shoving into your g-spot from the angle he has you bent at.

"You're so so tight," he murmurs against your mouth, taking shaky breaths between kisses. It's like you don't want to let him go and he'd be content to stay buried inside of you.

Levi doesn't let you reply, licking into your mouth when you try to speak, consuming your broken words when he bites those petal-sweet lips. Spit pools in the corners of your mouth, drooling to match the juice curving down your butt.

He has to swallow more of your moans as he starts to move. His hips start with a stutter because he wants so badly to stay stuffed inside of you, but he finds a rhythm. You cling to his shoulders, nails leaving angry crescents in his milky skin.

Your legs tremble each time Levi fills you up, squeezing into your tight ass while your pussy eagerly slurps in every inch of his heavy cock. They slip around his waist to lock in the back, one ankle crossing over the other so he can't possibly pull away. And he doesn't want to, whispering filth to you between tender kisses.

"Thank you," Levi groans as he rocks into you. "Thank you for being such a cute toy." His hands get greedier, slipping around your butt and gripping dimples into the fat.

He's smothers you with his lips until you're dizzy off his taste. Stealing more than just your breath, the swell of your bottom lips catches on his canine.

You cup Levi's jaw, drawing your thumb over his adam's apple on your way down his neck. The curve of your hand settles around the base of his throat as a warning.

"You think so?" Your voice is testy, but Levi doesn't seem to notice.

He nods, eyes too glazed over to really be listening. "Perfect fucking slut, all full of me." His breath fans over your wrist as he looks down at where you're holding him.

"Try again."

You keep him just a hair away from reaching your lips, digging the pad of your thumb into the hollow between his collar bones. There's barely pressure at first. He fucks into you harder, locking eyes with you while his dicks turn up your guts. As if that was the right answer, he leans in to kiss you again.

The palm of your hand flattens against the front of his throat, pressing him further away. You keep him held back, even has he strains against you, choking himself on your hand for a kiss.

"Gimme a kiss," his voice is thick, cut up too by the gentle squeeze of your fingers. "Please, baby." He punctuates each word with his cock, hitting you better with the heel of his palm flattening your stomach. He massages over the faint bulge. A thin string of saliva drips from his mouth to yours as he feels himself inside of you, prodding against his hand while you squirm beneath him.

A low rumble starts to build in his chest as he tries to get close to you, even to lay his pouting lips on your cheeks or forehead. His sounds are choked by the hand around his throat. He's almost silent as your fingers tighten around him except for a few strangled gasps that slip through.

You can feel Levi’s dick throb as his pace grows frantic, pushing you into the pillows like he can nestle any deeper. There's a hazy look in his eyes, partially obscured by the sweaty smear of his bangs. He's so cute it makes your grip loosen, bringing a pretty flush to his cheeks as blood rushes to his head. All that extra oxygen makes him whimper as he begins to spill out inside of you.

"Shi- Fuck I'm cumming." Levi's hands tighten around your waist as his thrusts become stunted and sloppier. His groans go straight to your pussy and the next swipe of his tail sends you over the edge. Your hips buck to meet him halfway as his slick begins to leak out of you. His cum glows a pale blue, running out as you tighten on his cock.

This time, you don't stop his kisses. Your fingernails scratch through the hair at the base of his neck, curling and tugging on it harsher than you mean to. The roll of his hips doesn't stop until you're both shaking and oversensitive. His breathing is heavy and getting slower as he comes to a stop.

Levi's breathing almost stops too when he looks down at the mess. "I'm sorry." His face pales as he pulls out of you. Rivulets of his release drip out, glossy and translucent to leave a cool shine to any skin it got smeared on. Your underwear is stretched to floss, sticking into place between your soaked pussy lips when your thighs snap shut. The love bites he left are beginning to darken as well, threatening to stain various shades of red and purple. "Like really seriously sorry."

A/N- nite then <3

<lightly edited bc I didn't do his orgasm justice>

[assortedseaglass]

Talk Refined - Chapter One

Michael Gavey x Reader

[Masterlist]

Summary: When Michael Gavey unwittingly insults a fellow Oxford student, they enter into a game of intellectual cat and mouse.

Content Warnings (this chapter in bold): Language, Smut, Saltburn Spoilers

Pool was never your forte. Truth be told, you were more of a darts girl. There was something though, in the soft click of the balls knocking together and the damp thunk of them landing in the pocket that scratched an itch on your over-worked mind.

Hilary term was coming to an end, and with it brought the dread that your extended essay title had been submitted. ‘“For the sake of some colour;” women as decoration, in response to Turner’s High Street, Oxford (1810)””. No going back now.

You’d escaped the January madness that had descended on your best friend, Esme. Like most other courses, she had exams at the start of the new year and spent her days in the library and nights in the pub. Much like now, come to think of it.

“You’re up,” you called to your friend as you missed potting a red. “Esme!”

“Sorry! Sorry,” she shimmied between the pool table and a few pub patrons, taking her cue in hand and leaning over the felt green. Click, thunk. A yellow sank into the corner pocket.

“Who were you talking to?” You indicated a man in his early twenties, eyeing up Esme’s backside as she leant over the table to reach another yellow.

“Bartender,” she missed the ball and passed the cue back over the table. You took it and swiftly potted a red. “Nice one. Just borrowing this,” she lit her cigarette with a metal lighter. When she was done, she tossed it back to the bartender and he winked.

The two of you’d met at a humanities and arts, inter-college social less than two weeks into your first term. Dress as your subject and be ready for a night of frivolity even Elagabalus couldn’t imagine. You’d found some of silk scarves in a charity shop, bought cheap pearls from Primark and gone as the Girl with a Pearl Earring. Outside the Blenheim was where you first spotted her. Dressed in a bedsheet draped as a peplos, she had climbed a lamppost and was swigging wine straight from the bottle. That is a girl I want to be friends with, you’d thought, and promptly beelined for her and begged for the bottle.

“You doing philosophy?” You asked after chugging the cheap merlot.

“Classics. And you, I’m guessing history-”

“History of art, yeah.”

The next morning, you’d woken in her dorm room at Brasenose, the autumn sunlight blinding and your breath smelling as if something had crawled inside you and died there. Esme didn’t mind. Her mouth was stained red from the wine and a hickey the size of Brazil adorned her neck. You’d been inseparable ever since.

“Bollocks,” you missed potting a red and, as Esme swept to grab to pool cue, the pub erupted in song.

“RUBY RUBY RUBY RUBY!”

“Ahah ahah ahaaaaaaaah!” Esme sang the refrain in your ear as she twirled you round, the cue discarded on the table.

“DO YA DO YA DO YA DO YA!?”

“Fuck’s sake,” It was hard not to smile despite your best efforts. You felt like a twat but no-one was looking at you. All were too busy singing to notice the two tipsy girls dancing by the pool table. In any case, the only person whose opinion mattered to you was the one spinning you in her arms. One wayward spin and bumped you into the pool table. Giggling, you opened your arms to be embraced once more-

“Oh shit,” Esme whispered hastily, suddenly standing straight and flattening her hair. “Got any lip gloss?”

“Erm,” you patted your pockets. “No sorry.”

“Damn,”

“Who’ve you seen?” you smirked, standing by your best friend’s shoulder and following her line of sight. Well, it could have been any number of students in the packed pub. There were some rugby lads, double polos with both collars popped. Pretty boy Felix Catton and his posse of poshos. It could have even been that girl Eleanor, now greeting a friend at the bar. Esme and Eleanor hooked up at the Brasenose Christmas party. Esme said it was “unexpected” and “not her usual flavour”, but you’d met her once after tutorial, and the way she looked at her tutor’s bottom as it wiggled down the corridor in her Peacock’s pencil skirt was not one of envy. “Well?” You asked impatiently. “Who is it?”

“There, blue check shirt, dark hair.” Esme pointed at the bar where such a man was standing. Two pints of lager in hand, he turned and seemed to look around the pub. “Cute, isn’t he? He’s at Brasenose too, doing English I think.”

“Oh right.” As a Wadham girl, you had never seen this boy before. You supposed he was quite good-looking, in a boy-next-door sort of way. You thought perhaps he would be bonny, were it not for the solemn expression on his face. He meandered through the crowd to a small table at which sat another boy.

The two were starkly different. Where Esme’s boy was dark haired, the other was fair. Esme’s boy was stocky, but even sat down the other was gangly, and while Esme’s boy clearly wasn’t an avid reader of Esquire, the blond boy looked like he’d rolled around Oxfam’s bargain bin in total darkness and worn whatever stuck; a pair of baggy cargo shorts pulled up far too high and cinched tightly with a black belt, a pair of Merrell trainers and a novelty tshirt. THIS IS HOW I ROLL. Below the wording was an anagram and equation.

If it weren’t for the middle-aged glasses and frankly atrocious haircut, he’d be quite good looking too. Two Oxford virgins; Trinny and Susannah’s wet dream.

“What’s his name then?”

“Oliver, I think.” Esme was licking her lips and fussing with her bangles.

“You look great,” you swatted at her hand. “And the other one?”

“No idea. They’re always hanging around together. Oliver,” she said his name with some uncertainty. “Oliver never says anything, the other one’s always talking a mile a minute but I haven’t really seen him about. Doesn’t go to any parties.”

“Him and the girl with-”

“Agoraphobia.” You said in unison. The characters of Esme’s college were more vivid to you now than those in a Dickens novel.

“I bet he does maths,”

“I told you, he does English.”

“No,” you tut. “The other one.”

“I reckon it’s physics.”

“Put a pint on it?”

“You’re on,” Esme smacked your hip. “Come on, there’s a table by the bar.”

Following the plume of her cigarette smoke, Esme led you to the sticky wooden table and ordered you a pint of Thatchers. She, a pint of Stella. At the table beside you both, Maybe Oliver and The Other One were talking quickly. Well, the maths-slash-physics boy was. Maybe Oliver was staring distractedly towards the other end of the pub. You looked over your shoulder. Felix Catton was settling down with another round of beers, his stupid eyebrow piercing gleaming in the low pub lights.

“Swap with me,” Esme whispered.

“What?”

“Swap with me so I can look at Oliver.”

You sighed and stood up, shuffling round the table to sit parallel to Oliver. Esme smiled at him as she sat down and he smiled back. When she giggled, you kicked her under the table. Now across from maths-slash-physics, you could see him clearly.

This close, you stood by your assessment that he could have been handsome. His light eyes were framed by not just those hideous glasses but thick, dark lashes. He had a jawline and cheekbones that would make Agyness Deyn jealous. His lips, though strangely curved were plump, and he had a distracting habit of frequently wetting them. But there was something so distinctly and undefinably creepy about him. He talked like a snake, quickly with hissed “s”s and “t”s. You noticed with unease that he barely blinked as he watched for any minutia in his friend’s reaction, and he moved with an almost jerky stiffness. All elbows and angles. This strange combination of beautiful and revolting made him impossible to ignore. Like catching yourself in the mirror after dying your hair. A strange feeling of the uncanny.  

He caught your eye, sensing you staring at him, and you quickly glanced at Esme. Shit. She’d been talking to you about something.

“-of course, it’s easy to compare the Iliad and the Aeneid, but really they’re very different.”

Aha. She was trying to impress, hoping Maybe Oliver would hear. “Oh yes?” You leant forward on your arm and wiggled your eyebrows at her. “Tell me more.”

Esme was clearly delighted that you’d cottoned on to her plan. Brushing her hair from her shoulders and leaning forward too, she continued. “Well, you have to start with the language. One is Greek and one is Latin. Now, we go through this in linguistics. Everyone has to get up to speed with their Greek and Latin so we’re all on the same level-”

You giggled and she kicked you under the table. Esme knew you already knew this and didn’t care. You knew that Esme was just showboating. When you kicked her back she got the giggles and glanced at Maybe Oliver. His eyes were still trained on the back of the pub, and she sighed, taking a gulp of beer. In perfect symmetry, you drank your cider and in the lull you admired the lengths your friend went to flirt with a seemingly average boy.

“-Jameson spends the whole time staring at her tits, completely ignoring the fact she can barely do her times tables.”

Esme choked a little on her drink and your eyebrows shot upwards with barely contained glee. This was far more interesting. You and Esme watched each other, communing telepathically about the intriguing conversation between the boys next to you.

“-times tables, Oliver!”

“Told you it was maths!” You whispered at Esme. Without a word, she got up with a smile to buy you another pint.

“-just fuck off and do history of art, love, save us all the trouble!”

You stilled in your seat, cider halfway to your lips. Did he just-? You ran the sentence over in your mind. “Fuck off and do history of art, love, save us all the trouble.” It wasn’t the first time you’d encountered snobbery about your selected study. Friends from school deemed it “hoity-toity,” and even your parents had worried about your career prospects.

“But what can you actually do with a history of art degree?”

You’d thought Oxford would be different. Surrounded by other young minds, eager for knowledge and an appreciation of the world around them, freshly opened up like your first bottle of champagne; long-awaited, exciting and with a little bit of bite. Just for the adults.

“Excuse me?” Your heart was pounding in your chest as you leant over a little and smiled at the pair of boys. You were proud of your subject but that eagerness to prove its, and your, worth was impossible to ignore. Oliver and Maths Boy looked at you.  “Do you,” you cleared your throat. “What’s wrong with history of art?”

The gangly boy scoffed and turned rigidly in his chair to face you. Like most other nerds, you’d expected him to shy away from anyone outside of his carefully selected circle. This boy, however, seemed to take up an enormous space in your mind. He was confident. Already taken aback by his vicious comment, that threw you even more.

“What’s wrong with it? It’s an easy option that’s become an elitist haven for the middle class.” He pushed his glasses up his long nose with a bony finger. “You ever met any of those ‘students’?” He put air quotes around that last word and you flinched, neck bristling with anger. You doubt he’d have noticed if you put your top over your head and did the Cupid Shuffle; he continued as if nothing happened.

“Load of public-school wankers spouting their useless opinions on aristocrats lounging about in gilded frames, just so they can justify getting a job in daddy’s gallery. It’s an irrelevant, niche subject for people who think their view of the world is superior to us mere plebs’.”

“Michael,” Oliver murmured. He turned to you, not quite looking you in the eye. “Sorry-”

“Here’s your pint,” Esme placed another Thatchers before you. Both you and “Michael” ignored your friends.

“You think it’s irrelevant?” You took a swig of cider without taking your eyes off him. Angry little prick, this fella. You knew the like; maths, physics, economics, law. The students were all the same. Thinking they were better than everyone else because they could swan off into the sunset with £40k job straight out of uni and reap the benefits that the arts provided them without any need to know better. The designer clothes and fast cars, the beautiful buildings they worked in, the nails on the woman ripping open the condom wrapper…

“What’s irrelevant?” Esme said brightly. She held out her hand for Oliver. “Esme, hi.”

“Oliver-”

“History of art, apparently.” You said haughtily.

“Ouch. Who said that?” Esme sat down beside you, still smiling at Oliver.

“Michael.”

“Who’s Michael?”

“Michael Gavey.” The man in question announced himself by extending a long arm in Esme’s direction. She shook his with slight shock and raised her eyebrows at Oliver. He lowered his head in shame.

“Our girl here’s a history of art student.” Esme patted your hand. If you, Esme and Oliver expected this to soften Michael, it didn’t work.

“Ah,” he smiled, mirth lighting his eyes. “That’s why you’re so tetchy. Which school was it then? Cheltenham? Roedean?”

“She went to state comp actually,” Ever your champion, Esme came to your defence.

“Scholarship student?” Michael sneered.

“No,” you rebuffed quickly.

“What’s wrong with that? Me and Oliver here are.”

“Nothing You were the one trying to get me to say it was.”

Michael smiled with satisfaction and an awkward silence fell between the four of you. The clink of glasses and drunken chatter continued around you. This wasn’t the first charged student encounter that had happened in this pub, nor would it be the last.

“I suppose you think maths is superior?” You folded your arms and raised an eyebrow. A challenge. Prove it then.

“Of course it is,”

It was your turn to scoff. “Why can’t there be room for both?”

“There is room for both. Mathematics is just more important.”

“Jesus,” Oliver rubbed his hands over his face.

“Mathematics is the foundation for everything. The modern world as we know it wouldn’t exist without it. Technology, healthcare, finance, governance, everything. It prevents chaos. Without mathematics, society would collapse.” He fidgeted in his chair to turn more vividly towards you, his hands excitedly grasping for something in front of him that didn’t exist. Maths, probably. “We create predictions and complex design systems so that life as we know it can exist, and continue to exist.”

He looked at you as though you should have been impressed. You supposed his excitement was quite sweet. In truth, you knew maths was important. History of art student though you were, you weren’t an idiot. You were at one of the world’s top universities for God’s sake.

“But what’s the point of existing if there’s nothing to enjoy? To live for?”

“Pardon?” What had he expected? For you to roll over and kiss his feet? Take him round the back of the pub for a quick knee tremble? “Oh yes, Michael, tell me more about Fermat’s conjecture! More! More!”

“Art is what makes life worth living for. Its history helps us understand politics, religions, societies and peoples of the past.”

“All that from staring at a Bruegels?” Michael looked at Oliver with a laugh, hoping for back up. Oliver was tearing up a beer mat.

“Yes!”

“Well, it’s never done anything for me.”

His arrogance and ignorance was astounding. This final comment was the drop that sent you overflowing with exasperation. “Yes it has,” you snapped. Michael glared at you. “Aside from what I literally just said, art has done everything for you. Take today for example.”

At this, Michael sat forward. He couldn’t resist a reasoned argument with concrete evidence.

“You woke up this morning at Brasenose, is it?” He nodded. “At Brasenose, in a dorm with Carol Vorderman posters on the walls, posters designed by graphic designers who studied art. Those posters line the walls of a building almost five hundred years old. From barely known architects to Powell and Moya, each added to its history with their extensive understanding of art and beauty. For some reason you then got up and decided to put on that God awful tshirt which, although many would believe otherwise, was designed to be aesthetically pleasing or visually arresting. The latter it certainly is. There you go. Art.” You were on a role.

“I’m assuming you had lectures or tutorial today? The book you read? The covers were made by, you guessed it, artists. You came here with Oliver and decided to get a craft beer because you’re a pretentious prick, and got the darker of the two because, and I agree with you here, the label is prettier. You’re gonna go home in an hour or two when you’ve had one too many pints and ogled that pretty girl at the bar,” you pointed at Eleanor. “Whose thong caught your eye above her low rises. Fashion? That’s art by the way and extremely influential on society ‘as we know it’.” You quoted him back and loved the way his lips quirked into a tight line.

“And thinking of her and her pretty thong, you’ll whack out ZOO mag and whack out a swift one over some big-titted page three girl in a pair of lace knickers that were designed by someone with a fashion degree. Art.”

Esme and Oliver stared at you. A manic, self-satisfied smile was plastered on your face, and when you downed your pint to cool down from the warmth that outpouring had exerted, Oliver actually smiled. Michael said nothing. Did nothing. He was entirely, utterly unreadable. You wanted to smack him.

He glanced from you to Esme, to Oliver and at last to his pint. Like you had done, he picked it up, finish it in three gulps and placed it back on the table. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus.” What the fuck was he talking about? He spoke to his friend as if you and Esme had ceased to exist. “Going for a slash. Get me another pint please, Oliver? Thanks.” He stood from his chair, unfurling like a stick insect, and made purposefully for the gents’.

Your mouth fell open. Esme chuckled nervously. “He’s a charmer,” she said to Oliver.

“Yeah, ‘scuse,” he muttered, shuffling awkwardly to the bar.

You both sat in your chairs, baffled silence befalling of you. “Well, no double dates for us then.” Esme said.

You laughed. “No date for you fullstop.”

“Yeah,” Esme glanced at the bar where Oliver was now waving at someone. You watched as he made his way over to Felix Catton and his friends. “Bit dull, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Oliver sat down as the rest of the posho’s table cheered. “Though if he’s friends with Felix Catton…?”

“Didn’t realise you were so shallow?” Esme teased.

“I’m not! But the parties, Esme, the parties!”

“I know, I know, I’ll remember that Christmas one forever. Oh God, here he comes,” Esme shrank in her seat. Michael was weaving through the crowd back towards the table.

“Why isn’t he going to sit with Felix and Oliver?” You whispered. “He better not be coming back here.”

You and Esme watched as his approached slowed, faltering when he noticed Oliver and his pint were missing. He glanced around, looking at his feet as if to find Oliver on the floor. It was painful. Watching the realisation dawn on his face. You and Esme knew it before he did.

A hand raised in the air; he had spotted Oliver at Felix’s table. You watched, with pity and embarrassment, as Michael waved and Oliver turned away.

“Shit,” Esme said.

Hand moving to push up his glasses, Michael, with head hung low, left.

“Shit,” Esme said again. “Bet you feel like a bitch for shouting at him now.”

And despite his pomp and arrogance, his cynicism and creepiness, you really did feel awful.

Notes: The amount of research I did for this was wholly unnecessary. Added some links because 2006/2007 was quite a place. The script hit me like a fucking train. It says, “Back with Michael: CRUSHED.”

Many thanks to @thecruel for their help with the transcript of the Saltburn pub scene, and to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for the Michael Gavey inspo, your headcanons are always spot on.

Tags: @lexwolfhale* @theoneeyedprince @lovebittenbyevans @fan-goddess @ellrond @very-straight-blog @arcielee @tsujifreya @liv-cole @myfandomprompts @annoyingkittydetective* @elizarbell @solisarium @thekinslayersswordhand @nightdiamond8663* @slowlysparklyninja* @kate-to-the-ki @bellaisasleep @xxxkat3xxx @lacebvnny @moonriseoverkyoto @ewanmitchellcrumbs @moonlightfoxx @pendragora @aemonds-holy-milk @st-eve-barnes @sapphire-writes @babyblue711 @targaryenrealnessdarling @slytherincursebreaker @bottlesandbarricades @valeskafics @anjelicawrites @exitpursuedbyavulcan @barbieaemond @chattylurker @itbmojojoejo @humanpurposes @cyeco13 @heimtathurs @in-a-mountain-pool

*could not tag

[perpetuallyconfused10]

Im the one who asked about requests lol, I just have this Hotch thought and I can't stop thinking about it 🫂😭

Imagine Garcia "screaming" about a video, telling the whole team about it (except Hotch and Reader), and that video is on tiktok. When they spill something about the video, Hotch and Reader ask which video they're referring to, not knowing it's from a tiktok account where the person makes videos on Hotch x Reader (like edits taken from some interview where they look at each other, slightly touches and things like that) and it's a whole profile with a lot of videos like that! So the whole team teases them and they obviously like eachother!!

Feel free to change anything!!

Gone Viral, Gone Wrong

Thank you to this anon for submitting my first request! I might have written it (and especially Hotch) be a little (way) too sappy, but I love your idea so much and I hope I did it some type of justice! WC: 3.3K

GIF by ssa-aaron-hotch-hotchner

There must be something on your face. Toothpaste, maybe, or coffee on your shirt, or a tear in your trousers. Something to explain the numerous pairs of eyes following you as you dash for the elevator, just as you always do. 

This morning’s been one for the books. Between a text from your highschool ex-boyfriend, congratulating you on your ‘newfound fame’ — whatever he means by that, you don’t know — and the incomprehensibly slurred voicemails you woke up to from your sister, you aren’t quite sure what to do with yourself.

You tell yourself you’re probably imagining it. But Anderson doesn’t say a word to you as you both make your way to the BAU, just casts you sidelong glances between the rapid texts he’s sending. You hope to God it’s not you, that he's just having an awful morning, then scold yourself for it. If you’re not off to a good start, at least somebody should be.

It’s the silence in the bullpen that confirms your suspicions. Emily, JJ, and Garcia sit huddled around Emily’s computer, squeezed onto two chairs they’ve pulled together. Morgan leans over them to look at the screen. He’s in the middle of laughing at something Garcia’s said when you walk in. 

You don’t even need Reid’s not-so-subtle hiss of “Guys–” to know you’re not going crazy. The smirks that drop from their faces, the giggles that extinguish themselves as you enter through the double doors, are more than enough. 

Four profilers and a technical analyst, as it turns out, can be rather terrifying when the force of their stares are directed at you. 

A sheepish grin tugs at your lips as you hold up your peace offering: a tray of coffee. “Hi?”

You’ve come to know how the team works. You know exactly how they react when ambushed, how they spring to action like a well-oiled machine.

There’s something a little mechanical to them now, bared in their responses to your arrival. After giving you one of his usual tight-lipped smiles, Reid flips open a random file on his desk and begins to read. JJ grabs the computer mouse, clicks a few times, and turns away from the monitor to greet you. Morgan clocks the drinks in your hands and conjures a grin just a little wider than normal. 

“Morning, sunshine,” he says as he plucks the tray from your hands, thanking you with a squeeze to your forearm. 

Garcia, eyeing the gesture, nearly chokes on the end of the pen she’s chewing. She stands to usher you over to your desk, her chirpy voice a balm attempting to smooth over what has been a very odd start to your working day. 

“What were you guys looking at?” You ask her, eyebrows raised. If anyone’s going to tell you what’s going on, Penelope is, without a doubt, most likely to spill.

You’re disappointed – and even more confused – when she stands her ground. Through her ramble, you just about make out the words “cat” and “spa” before she’s kissing your cheek and speeding away to your lair. 

You sigh as you switch on your own computer. One thing is clear. The team doesn’t like to be ambushed. And, somehow, that is exactly what you have done. 

—

After finishing off one of your consults, you suffer through a morning briefing that ends up being far more complicated than it needs to be. It’s only a paperwork day, by the looks of things. In theory, this is the ‘easiest’ your job gets; if you’re not called out on an emergency, you can bank on a day of case reports and shitty coffee. 

Nothing is ever easy at the BAU, not even now. Everything is out of order. There’s none of the usual idle chatter that precedes a briefing, just a fragile silence. Rossi moves from his normal position to take your place between Reid and JJ. He mutters something about the chair being uncomfortable and shoos you away from your seat. Though you can’t resist the opportunity to call him an old man for his pedantics, you acquiesce and take his spot instead. You find nothing wrong with it. 

Then Hotch walks in to start the briefing, and you find about a hundred reasons to curse David Rossi. He’s wearing the gray suit, again, the one he likes pairing with his red tie. That should be a crime in itself. When he takes the only seat available — his usual seat, the one now next to you — you’re almost sure you hear JJ snort. Emily pats her on the back as she conceals it with a very unconvincing cough.

Hotch frowns in your direction, probably mulling over the change in seating plan, then turns his attention to JJ. “Are you alright?”

The blonde clears her throat. “Fine. Thanks, Hotch,” she says. 

Garcia rests her elbows on the table, her mouth concealed by the palm of her hand. 

Hotch nods, casting another short glance your way. “Good.”

Then he launches into the briefing, and you can almost convince yourself things are perfectly normal, that your face isn’t alight with heat and you’re not avoiding looking at him, that everything is fine. When you’re dismissed, you scurry towards the door fast enough you almost miss it. 

“Garcia?” His voice is quiet, his tone soft with something disapproving hiding beneath it. “My office, please.”

Everything is decidedly not fine. 

—

By noon, you can’t take it anymore. “Emily Prentiss, what the fuck are you doing?”

The question comes out louder and more harshly than you’d intended. In your peripheral vision, you see Reid’s eyes widen at the desk next to yours. Emily, halfway through a sandwich, freezes. 

“I’m sorry?”

The grin fades from her face. 

You huff. “You’ve been looking between me and your computer for the last half-hour. What is it? Is there something on my face?” Morgan laughs from the other side of the bullpen, and you raise your voice a little in desperation. “Seriously. Have I done something wrong?”

JJ must have heard the commotion, because she pokes her head out of her office door. She takes one look at you and sighs. “Probably best to get it over with, Em.”

When Emily hesitates, your eyes narrow. “Get what over with?”

She stands and beckons you over to her desk, firing up her computer screen as you settle into her chair. JJ comes down the stairs to join you. Though they don’t move, you can practically feel Morgan and Reid staring at the three of you from across the room. 

What you see projected on Emily’s screen doesn’t make things any clearer.

“That’s—” you pause, dumbfounded. “Why are you looking at me and Hotch?”

The picture is easy to place. It must have been taken a few days ago, during a small-town case. Hotch had asked you to deliver a profile to the media when JJ was working on something else. It was far from the first time you’d faced the press head-on during your time at the Bureau, but Hotch had stood by your side anyway. 

You’re not sure why she’s chosen this photo, if any, to look at. The wind’s blowing your hair into your face, and you’re midway through changing expressions so it almost looks like you’re in pain. 

“Just watch,” Emily says. She presses the spacebar and the picture bursts into action.

—

“—If you believe you have any information that may relate to this case, we’d appreciate you calling the following number…” you say. You proceed to rattle off the number for the tip line JJ’s set up, but only get halfway through before everything derails. 

“How do we know this isn’t all just bullshit?” 

The voice overpowering yours is weathered, and so is the man who pushes through the crowd of journalists to get close to you and Hotch, whose posture you see straighten in an instant. You watch as the reporters from the city turn to look at the interloper, pens out and waiting, no doubt, for either you or your boss to slip up.

For a long moment, Hotch watches the man, his face twisted in irritation. He merely restates the tip line number and your request for any potential witnesses to come forward.

But the skeptic doesn’t let up. “This guy’s an outsider. Not one of us. Everyone here knows each other, they have done for years—”

“We’re not trying to cause a panic,” you say, your tone even, “We don’t want you all to turn on each other. But the man we’re looking for knows this town. He’s confident finding his way around the forest, even the areas that haven’t been mapped out yet. He knows the shortcuts, which roads are quiet and which are too risky to take. We’re asking you to exercise caution, and to report anything suspicious if you see it.”

“So what? A few pins on a map and you’re convinced it’s one of us?”

Hotch’s jaw tightens. This case has been harder on him than most, and you can sense that he’s on the verge of responding in a way he’ll regret later. You put a hand on his forearm as he raises it to retort, squeezing it gently in the hopes he’ll get the signal you really don’t have the seniority to be sending him: stand down. He takes a deep breath, and you let your hand slide down to meet his wrist, guiding it just a fraction backwards to rest by his side. The contact lasts only a second, maybe two, before you let him be. 

When he finally speaks, his voice is measured, his eyes slow to drag themselves from your face. “We’re not here to defend the science behind criminal profiling. Our priorities remain finding the person responsible for these crimes and the safety of this community until we do. If you have any information at all, please don’t hesitate to contact us. We appreciate your cooperation.”

Even the most amateur journalist would know he’s done answering questions. Hotch gives a brief nod, turns and leads you out of the Georgia heat and back into shelter of the precinct. All the time, his hand hovers over your back, his gaze searching for any potential disruptions. 

Then there’s his voice, deep and almost inaudible. You feel his breath brush your earlobe. “Thank you.”

—

Oh. 

Now you’re looking at it from an outsider’s perspective, you do look a little…cozy with Hotch. Not enough to walk the line of unprofessionalism, but enough for you to notice it. 

Emily folds her arms, leans back in her chair. “What’s that about?”

Avoiding her eyes, you shrug. “What’s what about?”

“The canoodling,” JJ says with a smirk, and you slap her arm. 

You’re a profiler. You should know your little attempt at denial isn’t going to work, but it doesn’t stop you from trying. “Canoodling? Seriously, Jen? I don’t think anyone under the age of eighty has ever said the word ‘canoodling’.”

You hear Penelope’s kitten heels clacking against the floorboards before you see her. “Doesn’t mean you’re not doing it,” she sings. Her arms wrap around your shoulders from behind.

You groan. “Penny, you know I love you, but what are you doing here?”

“I got lonely,” she says, and her expression is so genuine that you can’t even bring yourself to be upset with her. “Just wait…”

Leaning over you to press the escape button, she exits out of full screen mode and points to the corner of the screen. When you read the number she’s showing you, your breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.

“Would you look at that?” Emily laughs. “It’s gone up.”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. And once more, for good measure. “Six-hundred-and-fifty thousand people have seen that?”

It all starts to make sense. The texts, the calls, the stares, the team’s behavior…you don’t know whether to be relieved or horrified. On the bright side, you’ve done nothing wrong, nothing that could get you fired. But more than half a million people have seen you practically mooning over your boss.

Emily makes a noncommittal noise. “Half of them were probably Garcia. And a good twenty-five or so were us, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t,” You resist the urge to slam your head against the desk. You’ll have to settle for burying it in your hands instead. “Six hundred and…fuck. And they all think–?”

“—That you’re in love with our boss? And that he’s in love with you? Yes.”

“Oh, fuck.” “They think that, too,” says JJ, sounding sympathetic. If it weren’t for the frankly dastardly smile on her face, you’d think she was on your side.

Picturing the general population witnessing you make an idiot of yourself is bad enough. How do you even conceptualize that many people? How many stadiums could you fill solely with people who have seen you head over heels for your boss? Even worse is the thought of Anderson, or your parents, or – God forbid – even Strauss having seen it. You’ll be suspended. Fired. Or, even worse, be called into a mediated meeting with Hotch and HR, where they’ll ask him if you’ve been making him feel uncomfortable. 

Emily’s voice pulls you from your shame spiral. “And there’s more, too.”

This world hates you. You’re certain of that as she opens Twitter, putting “FBI agents” into the search bar and bombarding you with hundreds, maybe thousands, of tweets with your image attached. Some are disturbingly sweet. Others poke fun at how obvious you are, and even more disturbingly, seem to think your feelings are reciprocated. That’s not a mental path you can allow yourself to go down. 

“So…” You say after a long ten minutes. “What do we do?”

Footsteps, then Rossi appears at the stop of the stairs. “You go back to work. Your break’s over.”

He’s lucky you’re so fond of him. Had it been anyone else (save maybe one person) to disrupt your shame spiral, you’d have been furious. More than furious. You’re still a little irritated now.

There was nothing wrong with his fucking chair. 

—

Your mission is simple. Avoid. Deny. Deflect. The rest of your afternoon drags along in a blur of paperwork and teasing comments you choose to ignore (mostly courtesy of Morgan — JJ and Emily have decided you’re nearing your breaking point and vow to leave you alone). 

Five o’clock can’t come soon enough. Even when it does, there’s no reprieve. Reid turns out to be the one to betray you as everyone else packs up to leave, their files in his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers. To his credit, he looks like he means it.

“Judas,” you hiss back, but you stand and take the reports from him anyway. 

Morgan raises an eyebrow at you. “Going somewhere special?” 

You flip him off, muttering something under your breath that sounds just a little like “your funeral”. 

The stairs to Hotch’s office feel much longer and much steeper than usual. At every step you reconsider. Reid’s probably still heading for the elevator now. If you catch him, you can guilt him into doing this instead. But your thoughts carry you close enough for Hotch to spot your approach through the blinds. He rises from his desk, opening the door before you can even reach for the handle. 

You can’t even look him in the eyes. “Hi.”

Stepping aside to let you inside, he says your name, and it sounds so warm coming from his mouth. You wonder if he knows about your newfound fame, too. He seems to be focusing his stare directly between your eyebrows. 

“I just came to drop these off.” 

As if your words aren’t explanation enough, you hold up the files for him to see.

“Thank you.” Hotch reaches out to take them, and you feel his fingers brush yours as he does. He stops before the exchange is over. “Are you alright? You seem distracted.”

It won’t be long now before the sun sets. It’s making its final play for glory now, golden light filtering through the window and settling over Hotch’s face. Hints of amber tones surface in his eyes, usually so dark and unreadable, making him appear much softer than usual. Safer.

You sigh. “I think some people got a little more out of that press release in Georgia than we intended them to.”

“Oh. Yes.”

“You know about that?”

You wouldn’t half mind if a wormhole opened up, right there in his office, and transported you to another universe where you don’t even have to think about this moment ever again.

“I do.” He winces. “Garcia’s computer system is the most secure in the FBI, but she doesn’t have an inside voice.”

The dry comment shocks a laugh out of you. “No, she doesn’t. But…it’ll die down, right? No one is actually going to believe that. Us being together would be—”

“Unprofessional,” Hotch supplies after a beat. “Very unprofessional.”

He reaches backwards to put the files you’ve given him on his desk, somehow managing to do so without actually taking a step away from you. If anything, he gets a little closer. 

“Exactly. Strauss would kill us if we even thought about it,” you say, “Not that we would, I’m just…”

Now he looks down at you, straight into your eyes. You swear his pupils are dilated, that he slips for just a half-second and lets his attention drift down to your lips. “There’d be a lot of paperwork.”

You nod. “Too much, really. You’ve got enough already. It’d also be…”

“…Nice.”

Hotch stops breathing, lips downturned in a frown. You’re sure you’ve heard him wrong. But half a minute passes, and he doesn’t retract his statement, though he looks as if he’s close to doing so.

“I’m sorry?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He’s close enough you catch a hint of his cologne, and the woody scent of it makes your head spin. 

“I can say it again,” he says through a long exhale, searching your face for any sign of discomfort as he takes another step closer. His breath ghosts your neck. “Or we can forget this ever happened.”

Your answer is almost immediate. “Let’s not do that.”

Hotch tilts your chin up so you’re forced to look at him. You lean upwards to meet him halfway in a kiss that is soft and tentative, the sort that promises everything and asks for nothing in return. One of your hands cups his jaw, and both of his find their way home to your waist, rubbing circles into your skin through your shirt. You smile against his lips. He leans forward as if to chase yours when you pull away.  It hits you, now, that this is really happening. The months you've been agonizing over this - whether to make a move or to shut the part of you that cares for him away - have led you here. There's much you've got to think over: what this means for both of your careers, the risk to the team's dynamic, whether it'll even work in the long run, if Hotch wants that too. You know he's thinking the same thing; his face adopts the same mask of concentration it always does when he's considering something. You take a deep breath. It might be hard, but does that stop it from being worth a shot? In the end, you don't think it does.

“I think I’m gonna order takeout tonight,” you say quietly. “There’s a really good Thai place down the street from me.”

Hotch clears his throat. “That sounds nice.”

Shaking your head, you rest both hands on his shoulders, laugh at him. “That was my way of asking you if you wanted to join me.”

“Oh.” 

His brow furrows. For a terrible moment, you think he’s about to say no. And then, “Haley has Jack tonight. I…I’d like that.”

You beam, pull back, and head towards his desk to find a pen and a scrap bit of paper. “Here’s my address.” A quick glance down into the bullpen, which is thankfully empty. “Give it ten minutes, then follow me?”

“Okay,” Hotch says. Even you can tell he’s grinning like an idiot, and you make a note of the rare expression. “Okay. I’ll see you soon?”

Squeezing his hand, you kiss his cheek and walk towards the door. “Soon.”

You feel his eyes on you until you reach the elevator.

If you got this far, thank you for reading! I've watched a lot more Dharma and Greg than CM, lately, so I have a feeling that my version of soft!Hotch is currently just a grownup version of Greg Montmgomery????

[yuff7e]

heyy i was hoping you could hear me out on this female reader x bakugo fic request. this might sound so weird but pls stay w me. when u give a guy head it can bruise the back of ur throat. (obviously isn’t perm) and dentists can actually tell and see the bruising. so i’ve jus been thinking about going to a dental appointment with Bakugo the next day after giving him that head and the dentist being able to tell and lowkey teasing about it. how would bakugo react lol. thanks!!!!

♬ ₊˚. dental appts w bakugo katsuki !! .🎧⋆✧ sfw / fluff / light mentions of nsfw / mentions of mouth poking

female reader

hi anon !! this is such a funny request i HAD to do this !!! i literally giggled when i read it :3 that’s so silly i bet he’d be so flustered, enjoy <3

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com (LMFAOO)

your boyfriend, katsuki, was driving you to your dental appointment today. you two were doing the usual, listening to music and talking occasionally as you gaze out the window. you usually don’t like going to the dentist, but you knew you had to get a few things checked eventually.

once katsuki pulled into the parking lot, you grabbed your purse and your phone and hopped out of his car - fixing your hair in the window once you shut the door. “let’s go!” katsuki shouts, you huff - moving another strand of hair into place and catching up to him.

“you look fine, baby.” he grumbles, pulling your hand into his - you shoot him a quick smile before walking in the doors. once you’re inside katsuki speaks to the receptionist at the counter and lends her your information as you look around, you haven’t been to the dentist in forever.

eventually you two sit down, katsuki crosses a calf over his knee and puts his arm around you - watching the kids fondly and glaring at the men that walked past and looked at you. you pull out your small compact mirror and fix your hair once more, earning a small chuckle from katsuki.

“what?” “nothin’ you’re just cute..” a pink hue frames your cheeks and you look back into the tiny mirror, suddenly the door entering the dentists office calls out your name and you both stand up - following the woman into the room where the dentist is at.

“hello ms.[last name], take a seat.” the dentist greets you kindly and you sit, katsuki sitting in the other chair in the room. the dentist looks at your records and assures everything is fine with your teeth and that they just want to do a short checkup to double check that everything is normal.

you sit back once you hand katsuki your purse and essentials, opening your mouth for the dentist to examine. as he’s poking around in your mouth he stops for a second and gives you a look, you look back at him quizzically and he just chuckles - glancing at katsuki as well.

“what? is there somethin’ wrong?” katsuki questions, sitting up in the chair. the dentist tells him there’s nothing wrong, but that there seems to be some.. bruising, in the back of your mouth. katsuki coughs at his confession and you glance between katsuki and the dentist, suddenly - you start giggling. your face has turned a light shade of pink that the dentist points out, which just turns the hue darker as the dentist continues the teasing.

katsuki stares at the dentist with wide eyes and sits back in the chair, clearly embarrassed. “it’s quite alright, it doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong. it’s just always funny to notice and tease the patients about, don’t worry - this is not an uncommon thing.” he speaks as he clicks his mouse against the mousepad, eventually he spins back around in his chair toward you and tells you that everything is fine and that you don’t have to come back until a few months pass.

you thank him and grab your things from katsuki, before you two could walk out the dentist stops you - “make sure to not get another bruise, now.” katsuki stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at the dentist “wh—- hey!” before he could continue you place a hand on his chest and push him out, “sorry, and yes sir - i won’t.”

the dentist smiles at you both fondly as you walk out, katsuki keeping a tight grip on your waist as you make it to his car. before you open the car door you place a hand on your forehead, giggling breathlessly to yourself - “oh my, that was so embarrassing.” “yeah it sure fuckin’ was, why’d he care so much anyway?” katsuki mumbles to himself as he gets in the car.

you get in as well and place a hand on his arm, “don’t worry, now that we know in advance we’ll do something else before going to the dentist.” you flutter your eyelashes at him and he just gives you a “really?” look. you laugh at his silent response and he puts the car in reverse, revving loudly before backing out and speeding off.

—

yay !! this was actually so fun to write and super easy !! thanks for the amazing and silly request !! i love requests like these :)

REQUESTS : OPEN

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ ROGUE

tw. incest, spit, dom/sub stuff, reader is a textbook brat, size kink, i think i mention tummy bulge once, manhandling, jealousy, virginity, aemond is mean but pussy wipped, tiny lil bit of breeding and wifing up wordcount. 7.2k

a/n. local anime blog goes rogue and writes hotd smut. yes i know okay just look away if you only like anime boys, we will get back to out usually scheduled program soon i swear i sweaarrrrrr dont judge me i have such a fat crush, i sWear i am only doing it to stay sane iT iS MY CALLING ♡

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

The heavy cover of smoke and dusty sage circles up in slow rounds towards the ceiling, like a flock of vultures. Candles burn low in the heavy air of the room, and the long curtains allow just enough fresh air into the room for the scent not to be stifling. Aemond assesses the whole of his room for a few breaths as the chambermaid softly slips out without another word, and pulls the heavy door to a clicked close behind her. Like a fleeing animal, he muses, unclasping and placing his sword upon his desk. The girl has always fled his company as fast as a mouse in a trap. Not like he’s ever done her wrong. Not like how he knows his older brother continues to do.

A small puff of annoyance comes out of his mouth as he starts to peel back some of the layers of his daywear, and drops them over the back of the chair.

Oh well, at least he’s alone.

His room is cast in a soft, golden glow that melts every want for pretense into the floor. Slowly dripping off him like wax, it seems to reveal a bit more of himself with each heavy drop. He only really notices how tired he is of spending time at court when the time comes to abandon it for the evening. Exhausting, ‘s what it is. The mastering of every trade is the lesser of the evils, but the constant ass-sucking, the looks, the reading of the room— he has no want for it. The Queen assures this is the life of a prince. He protests that it’s a simple lie to play at royalty. And no one gets to mark their own vision correct. No one gets to grab the upper hand. Because that’s the life of a prince.

Aemond finishes undressing most of the heavy, leather garb for a looser fit. Then moves to sit into the chair beside his bed, as always, and lets his eye fall to the sets of books on the desk. Few of them are untouched. For an acquiring of knowledge that is purely showy at best, because he is only a second son. A downright shame. He rolls the tip of his tongue against the back of his teeth for a few moments, and instead pours the can of wine, holding onto the cup loosely, with slow sips. If only to have something to do.

The humming of the choir down in the bell tower reaches all the way up to his room, and gives the night an awfully dreary feeling, reminding of winter, of death, of the sniveling of people in the sept and those praying in the darkness. Not that he minds, or cares much— but he knows the sound well. Knows how it is the sign for Aegon to double the size of his own drink, the time for Heleana’s maid to start getting their children ready for the night, the moment his mother the Queen finally stops fretting for long enough to enjoy a moment of peace. And for you… He knows it’s a sound that makes you anxious, reminded that you’re alone for the next hours to come. And he supposes that makes the repeating, melodic chants the sign that he’s about to have company any second too, and for that he guesses he’s grateful.

Grateful for the warning, or for the company, he’s not quite sure. He swishes the burgundy liquid around the cup until he hears the familiar click of the door, and the heavy knock. “Come,” he doesn’t look up from the drink, instead perching it onto his lip.

“Her majesty the Princess, my Prince.” The guard doesn’t usher you inside as much as you waltz in, low dress falling every so softly over your frame as the man spares just a few looks and nods, retreats and closes the door back behind him without another word. Curt, quite unlike the older man. Aemond can only guess you’ve been at this for long enough now for the guard to have made peace with the fact that the Prince doesn’t care. And that whether or not he accepts, you’ll enter anyway.

“You shouldn’t walk around the palace after dark,” your brother says, taking a sip of the wine before his eye ends up falling onto you without wanting to. “You’re the first person to blame when people start spinning rumors.”

“I don’t care about the opinions of ladies in waiting or the small council. I am not the Queen,” you simply reply, pulling your dress up to sit down on his bed beside him, knocking knees. “If you’re worried about rumors, you should hear what they say about you, big brother.” You’re not a bold person, but somehow, when it comes to him… every smart remark is able to fall from you like it’s a game. It amuses Aegon to no end, and even dares bring a smile to your mother’s face from time to time. Any of them expecting an outburst, to be sure, a fiery bite back or a quick smack to the back of your skull. And if you were another of his siblings, he supposes his family would be right. But somehow… it doesn’t bother him as much when it’s you.

Still not enough to have him silenced, though. His lip lifts into a grimace. “Enlighten me.”

“I won’t.”

Your feet are bare on the stone floor and your untied hair sways softly with each movement, and like this you sit by his side late at night, as you’ve taken to doing ever since half of your family moved back to Dragonstone. You’ve always gotten along better with people, were able to ignore your grudges better. An admirable trait, if not a weak one. He searches for something to say back to your resolute refusal, but fails. And lets out a sharp breath, glaring.

Whatever is going on in your tepid, little mind, you slowly place your feet upon his thighs, and shuffle a little closer. And his hands follow to come grab your ankles, half to keep you steady, but the other half in warning. It is a fact of your family that everything exists in pairs. Your mother and Sire for one, your eldest brother and his sister the future Queen… and you seem to have taken that to mean that you and Aemond exist in a pair too.

Always shoving past his barriers like it’s your birthright, with those big, searching eyes and a dopey, genuine smile that seems to belong more to a story book than the stern darkness that is expected of your family. A part of him wants to hate you for it. For being so callous when the rest of them are struggling to stay afloat. Unburdened by responsibilities, or haunted by dramatics. He could tell you he hates you too, but that wouldn’t do him much good. Not with you.

Still trapped by his grip, you stretch your hands to his face and place them to his cheeks, and he groans. “Take your hands off of me.” The irony of your soft skin playing beneath his fingers doesn’t go lost on him. “If I wrestle you to the floor and belt your little ass, you won’t be able to go crying to the Queen for it. I’m warning you.” You don’t listen, or care, before your hands slide to the back of his head and start slowly unbuckling the clasp of his eyepatch.

“Your eye is hurting again, isn’t it? You always get difficult when the chambermaids don’t clear out the smoke.”

He squeezes his hands harder around your little ankles. “You’re not a Maester, don’t speak of things like you know them,” he snaps back, only to move his hands to support your bottom when you push closer and press to slide into his lap for better access. Settling so comfortably against him, he doesn’t move his hands. “Shouldn’t you be learning your rhymes and asking the septa for some hot blankies instead of fussing over me-”

“-If you didn’t make your own little sister fuss over you, maybe I could.” You stubbornly peel the patch away to reveal the brightly glistening stone in the candle light, casting blue flickers all over the room. But he’s too busy looking at you to notice, ignoring the way your weight is pressed upon his lap. He has to ignore it. You tuck the pink little sliver of your tongue between your teeth as you let out a nasally breath, and your lashes cast dark, little shadows into the depths of your eyes. Sure enough, he can feel the relief the second you take a wet towel from the jar to the side and press it to the irritated skin, scar pulling and sore.

You’re awfully gentle with it. With him.

“I told you to take your fucking hands off of me,” he repeats, softer this time, watching as you still and he titls his head back to lean atop the chair, and helping you up onto your knees on his thighs. This way you’re fully above him, and with better access to his face, and you stay so very quiet. Unflinching. You suck your lip into your mouth for a second before releasing it, and then slowly start wiping again.

“You shouldn’t speak to me that way.” If you make a sport out of prodding, he makes a sport out of making blows hit.

“I am your big brother, I’ll speak to you as I wish. And I wish you to know what an insolent little cunt you are.” It’s out before he stops to think about it, and you instantly let him know it lands. By slipping off of his lap with a huff and tossing the rag onto the table, while accidentally knocking over the cup and spilling it over the table. You don’t stop to see the damage you cause as you stomp toward the exit, and he’s up and pulling at your dress before you can get far.

“Get off of me, Aemond,” you screech as he wraps long arms around your waist and you let your entire weight hang into them, squirming to get out. “You’re so annoying! Agh-uhh—Seven Hells!”

He can’t help the grin that slips on as he clenches his jaw, and doubles down. Because that’s what he does. You know it, and he knows it— and you go round in circles. “I could tell your septa you’re a misbehaved brat.”

“You’re a gross pervert, you—Ugh, f- You get your dirty hands off of me.” You spew the words like hot venom in his face when you make it halfway out of his grip and dig your nails into his arm and go to bite at his hand, before he manhandles you to the cold floor and bars you from moving under his hard grip. “Ae- Aemond! You’re the worst!” One arm almost pressing onto your throat, and the other over the soft of your stomach, as he takes a few breaths. Your own equally winded, as you start blinking like crazy to avoid the onslaught of tears that is to follow. “Aemond, let go.”

“Pervert?” he raises his brows now that you’ve stopped struggling, and gives you a look that reads ‘really?’ as underlying question clear as day. One you’re not inclined to answer, because you bite your bottom lip as glare at him as a drop rolls down your temple. You’re hot in the cheeks, hair a mess with the struggle, and your body feels ever so small under him now. Reminds him that he’s been told you’re too small to defend yourself by his mother, his father, and even their uninvolved craven of a brother. But you sure don’t act like it. Even if they are right.

“Just get off of me, you’re heavy.” And there it is. When he invades too far and too aggressively, and you stop pushing back to win it, it’s suddenly like it's a matter of life and death in your mind. When you declare the game is no longer to be won, there’s not a single move that’ll sate you. The signs are easy to read. The way you avert your eyes from him is one of them, and the crinkle between your brows as you stare resolutely at the door like you’re hoping a guard will just burst in to save you. When he doesn’t move quickly enough, you change your tune. “Will you please get off of me? I want to go to bed.”

Aemond lets out a sound between a laugh and a huff, and rights himself a little, but keeps hold of your shoulders pressed to the floor. Making him feel bad is another of those magical traits you have, that he hates about you. Leave it up to his youngest sibling to make his stomach feel heavy and empty, like he hasn’t eaten in days. A hungry beast declaring war at seeing you this way. “Hate me again, do you?” he asks without much fire, and your eyes go hard, and mouth a thin line.

“All you want to do is try to hurt me,” you hiss back when his fingers creep up to wipe the silvery line of tears along your cheek, brushing hair away from your face and taking you in as you are. Before you finally look at him again as the hall outside the door stays quiet. You’ve gone through this same song and dance too many times, cried wolf a bit too often. The guards don’t want to risk disturbing him with that temper, he knows they whisper it behind his back.

But it’s of no difference to you, because if looks could kill, you’d have one brother less by now. You manage to worm your arm out of his grip to wipe your own eyes again, before lowering your tone. “If you hate me so much, feel free to kill me sooner rather than later.” As if he’d let just anyone do what you do. As if he’d be so close to someone he hates. He has only you. Still your chest rises and falls with a heavy motion. “At least I wouldn’t have to marry some ugly, old lord if you did.”

In moments like these, he remembers. You’re a burning wildfire with enough fuel to light up an entire city; and you have no intention of doing any less than the rest of them. But stupid. And ignorant. He gets up and takes his heavy body off of you to see the mark where his arm presses so hard into your collarbones, already starting to bruise. “You’re an idiot,” he simply says, and gets up from the floor and up from you. You stare as he does, but keep your mouth shut. And Aemond swears to himself and averts his eye from you to readjust his pants, with suddenly more interest in the canopy of the bed than the soft, warm body of his little sister. “Get out.”

You get up from the floor with slow movements, too slow for his liking, and he walks back over to grab your arm and hoist you up onto your feet as you cling onto his tunic. But though he wants to keep you as far as he can away from his sanity in moments like these, he doesn’t resist when you linger so close he can count your lashes, and feel your puffs of air on his lips. He keeps your dress sleeve fisted into his hand as you stand up onto your toes and pull his shoulders more down to your level, until you can nearly brush your noses and you press a kiss to his lips. Soft and warm, it makes his heart knot and roll around in his chest, and makes your little hands squeeze around his shoulders. “Aemond…”

He dips again, and connects that smart mouth of yours to his without second thought. Another long kiss is met by a soft rumble of his chest, and he is halfway to leaning into you further when you drop back onto your heels. Leaving his mouth tingling with heat. “Ser Arryc is waiting for me to return to my chambers.” You fix your dress and wait for him to slowly peel his fingers out of the fabric, before sucking hard on your bottom lip as you turn about here and there in sudden nerves. “Well, good eve.”

And then he’s left alone for the night, with the memory of your body pressed under him, withering, fighting, crying. And no one to plead him to stop as he twitches in his pants.

+

As younger siblings dare do, you have an intrinsic ability to set his nerves on end. Born and bred for it even, he’d dare say, as he lets his gaze trail after you. The dragonpit is no place for one of your disposition, and though perhaps the same could be said about Helaena, there’s a few cards laid differently between you both. Youngest sibling, and having grown up without any dragon to speak of. Blame the lack of eggs to distribute to the last of Viserys’ children. Helaena also doesn’t possess the uncanny and endlessly bothering capacity to make his blood sour in his veins with a simple look.

His older sister doesn’t really bestow a care to any of you, while you— care about being loving way too much. He can feel his brows start to pull almost distractingly as you prance around with wide eyes and flit about next in and out of the covered hall. Sunfyre is the current object of your affections, and Aegon’s glittering smirk as he watches you coo and bathe him in compliments has his hands tightening around the handle of his sword where it hangs against his side. “She’ll soon fetch a handsome collection of suitors, don’t you think?” his mother asks innocently, distractedly, as he juts out his lips in slight annoyance. She’s gone from distant and sheltering, to exceedingly fretful these last few years.

Aemond hums a vague noise, but doesn’t bother to look away from your soft shape set against the big beast— and how you shine up like a penny at his oldest brother with compliments. He clicks his tongue, and his mother distantly continues from his side. Out of all the people for you to fawn over… all the beasts to be impressed by— he attempts to focus on the conversation aimed at him, but glares around the field instead. At the guards who feel a bit too comfortable casting glances your way, or a brave squire taking a bit too fond a notice. Every second of it makes his jaw set tighter. “Your grandfather the Hand would rather see her married off sooner than later but— Oh, Aegon,” his mother suddenly speaks with a slight worry.

You’re climbing onto the dragon. No, Aegon -the fool- is making you climb up, putting his grimy hands under your bottom and just about heaving you towards the saddle himself.

“Aegon, stop that,” his mother tries again, starting to make her way down the stage as the eldest turns to look at them both, “your sister can’t be up there by herself. She’ll get hurt-”

“-I’ll get her.” For once he’s glad for his mother’s ever present concern, and hurries past to walk up to you. You, with your hair sun kissed in the evening light, and your cheeks and lips full of mirth as you glance over at your mother first, and then him. His brother’s staring up your dress by the time you’re standing fully on his shoulders, and doesn’t even bother to wipe the grin off his face, tongue peeking out in full enjoyment— Aemond doesn’t have time for this absolute mockery. “Get down,” is all he has to say, for your pretty, flushed face full of excitement to blank. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth as you stare back at him for a few seconds… before slowly starting to slide back toward him.

“Oh, Aemond, don’t be a bother—”

His hand is wrung in his older brother’s tunic before he has time to blink, glaring absolute venom his way, nostrils flaring. Alicent calls for him from a distance, but the plea goes unheeded. The fabrics of your dress are halfway obstructing Aegon’s face as you try to get down, but there’s still plenty of room for a dagger to be fit somewhere into it, a thought rings; one he banishes with some fight. Instead he simply reaches a hand for you to grab, and motions you to get down already. You jump and wobble upon landing, and he grabs your wrist tight when you try to run off. But he still hasn’t stopped glaring at Aegon, to his own surprise, chest rising and falling a bit too quickly to be normal. “You try that again-”

“-and you’ll what, little brother?”

“Don’t fight,” you quickly quip in, tugging softly on his pinky as Aemond’s mouth corners tug up, and he squeezes the fabric tight enough around his own brother’s neck to hurt. He leans in, ignoring your pulling and begging to really tower over Aegon. And Sunfyre gets restless beside them, scaring you even more. “Aemond, please. No harm was done.”

Aegon’s face turns a harsh ruddy color with each passing second, and Aemond’s never enjoyed a sight quite so much. “Shall we see how you do without your eyes, brother?” He releases all at once, just in time enough for their mother to miss how he steps back and gives you a look to keep your lips glued shut. If Aegon wants to tell, he’s at least smart enough to keep quiet, for now. The woman looks between the three of you in worry. But he has no intention of explaining. He couldn’t, really. The absolute blinding rage dies down enough for him to suck the sourness off his tongue and take your hand better, lacing fingers. “I’ll take her back to the keep.”

The Red Keep has never felt smaller as you don’t say anything until you get all the way to your chambers, staring resolutely at the floor. And though his mood hasn’t changed, there’s part — parts of him, that want you to just look his way like you usually do too much of. Your guard is quick to open your door, but stares a little too long when he lingers. “You may go see upon the King, Ser,” he says curtly, and before he can care enough to watch the man leave, closes your door behind you both. “Are you an absolute imbecile, that you’d let Aegon disrespect you in front of everyone?”

“It wasn’t anything to get upset over, he wasn’t hurting me!” you bite back as you do, making him crowd you against the door.

“Oh, no,” he rolls his eye, “he was only about to do much worse later!” You stay pressed between his body and the door as you stare up at him and hold your hands to his chest, both of you breathing hard. But you don’t back down, don’t roll over and apologize. And that bothers him. It shouldn’t, and yet… “Hah,” the sound of it is hard and sharp as he lifts your hands above your head in place with his own. Your lips are a puffy, flushed color, and eyes so focused on him that it momentarily distracts him. Before the feeling of you against him comes back full force, as always. Try as he might, he can’t escape you. “You like that sort of perversion, then?”

“I don’t know what kind of perversion you speak of.” You’re whispering now, long lashes spread over the haunting appearance of you below him. Swallowing hard, chest rising and falling. Hell, the way you look is entirely deviant, but he still leans in despite knowing better. You smell faintly of dragon, but the majority of it is still that soft, sweet innocence that drives him to grab at your chin and force your face to his. And your free hand reaches for his cheek, cold fingers brushing his skin. Your lips brush his as he allows himself to sink just a little lower, letting you moan into his mouth. “Aemond… big brother, please.”

“What do you think you’re playing at?” He lets the soft kisses be placed onto his lips in between the words, resolve growing weaker by the second. How did he get here? And why? Aemond isn’t like Aegon, so why does the sight of you all soft and needy below him have him so hot in the face. Heat burning all along his neck, chest, down to his… cock. He knows very well your poor mother would riot at his taking of your virtue. Because unlike Aegon, she knows he knows better. But you press your mouth against him again, and let your soft, little tongue push against the crack of his mouth with another moan— all while arching against him.

“Haven’t you thought about it?” He’s only half aware his hand is grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you up against his hips as your lips make those little noises against his, lifting you so you can wrap your legs around his glutes. The pressure of your body grinding up against his is entirely wanton, your eyes glossy and lips even glossier. “Taking me to wife?”

“You’re set to marry a lord—”

“I want to marry you. Don’t you want to marry me too? Have me abide by your side, call me ‘yours’?” Your hands slide into his hair, pulling at the hair at the base of his skull just enough to have his tongue push back into a kiss and take the warmth of your mouth as his own. Hotly, with a demanding rumble of his chest you’re kissed- the sweetness of your mouth and warm, squirming tongue against his. It’s intoxicating, setting every hair on his body upright. He grabs your cheeks to keep you in place even when you try to pull back, kissing longer, deeper— like he could die in it. He probably could.

When you’re allowed to pull back you roll your hips against him with a slight smile, and pant against his mouth. “Isn’t that why you love laying on top of me?” His breathing ceases automatically, chest tightening a little more. All he ever hoped was never to hear it out loud. Don’t breathe life into it and it won’t exist, right? See no evil. Your little smile grows a little more as you kiss him again, and he doesn’t pull away, though he should. Your daring tongue moves down his jaw to his neck instead, licking along his pulse as you push. Can’t help but stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, right, a family trait? “Doesn’t that get your cock hard, big brother?”

He takes a stuttered breath as he turns and you cling onto him, walking over to the bed to lay you down and place his large hand over your mouth. “Shut. Up.” You lick the inside of his hand, and he hisses before grabbing your thigh instead, tight enough for your pretty little face to turn into a grimace, and you pull his hair a little harder. Doesn’t matter. He’s nose to nose with you, his own little sister, the one who was always so fond of him it was annoying as sin— as every bit of pretense evaporates by the second. “Do you even know what you’re talking about when you say that?”

“I know what Aegon taught me,” you breathe back against his lips, and it’s this -not any of the other stuff, though that should have done it too- that has his blood turning green with jealousy and has him shutting you up with a kiss, hands sliding up your body over the tight bodice. You’re burning underneath him, lifting your back from the mattress as he crawls further up the bed and over you. You’re so flimsy and small beneath him that it should be laughable. All it does is make his cock so much harder in his pants, as your noises ring above the smacking of mouths and tongues and teeth. Your little fingers press into his shoulders hard and needy. “Mhm-Ae-mond.”

He pulls at the clothing under his hands until you squeak and it rips, one of the too-many layers you’re wearing dropping to the side. He pulls back to stare at you and the way you’re biting your lip, eyes flicking from him to his pants. His cock is chubbed up against the fabric as much as it will allow, and starting to get too tight for his liking, but as you reach out a hand, he smacks it away. Instead he slides a hand under your head to pull your hair and you make a little noise of displeasure, until he leans back in. “When you talk like that it makes me want to smack you around. You understand that?” You whine into the silence, but don’t fight back as he makes your head nod. “You know what I am?”

“B-big brother-”

“Then treat me like it. Open your mouth.” For a few seconds and deep breaths through your nose, you seem to debate it, but whatever you see in his eye eventually has you obliging. He collects a good glob of spit and has it land onto your tongue, and you cry out something unintelligible— but let him slide his thumb into the wet mess of your tongue as your lips get even shinier with all the wetness. Before he can say anything though, you wrap your lips around his digit and whimper. It’s a little too disarming, and his cock twitches hard in his pants. Balls heavy and length straining against the confines. He lets out a little breath, before pulling back out of your suckling mouth to grab himself through his pants. “Shit.”

Your voice sounds so much more high pitched and girly when you speak again, a strange sort of mockery of him over top of you, but it works. Fuck, if it doesn’t. “Please, please, please, big brother.” You whine his name and press tens of little kisses to his mouth, he feels how his balls pull against his body at the display. You get impatient though, start pulling the top half of your dress down to reveal your shoulders and then, with another little noise, your tits. He’s ahead of you though, pulling you down more and leaning in to lock his mouth around your puffy nipple to suck hard, have you curling off the bed with pitiful whimpers. “Big brother, mh-ah- big- br-brother.”

He starts working the drawstrings of his trousers to get them down as quickly as possible too, moving to the other tit and taking as much of it into his mouth to lave his tongue all over it. You sound almost beside yourself with pleasure, kneading at his shoulders and neck like you’re losing your clouded, little mind for him. He gets out of his pants enough to kick them off the rest of the way and lay his much larger body on top of you, back to your face to kiss you with slow, deeper kisses. Then he pulls back, for only a moment of true emotion, to grab your blushy cheeks between his fingers and stare. “Are you still…”

You go limp, and embarrassed and flushed with heat all at once, and squeeze his hips between your thighs like it’s meant to hurt. All it does is push your covered cunt against his rock hard cock and make him take a sharper breath. “Of course I am-” you bite out though, digging your nails into his shoulders a bit harder like you’re just wanting him to keep going. “What- that not good enough for you?”

But he’s quick to shake his head, and press a few spare kisses along your ear, finally being able to let out a little grin at your flustering. “You’ll let me take your maidenhood?” You’re back to whining his name in that overly girly, pouty voice; and he sucks at the shell of your ear for long enough to have you shivering below him. Your little breaths and noises are too fucking cute. And the way you’re pawing at your dress to get it up your body is even cuter. “Beg big brother Aemond to have you. Take you.”

“Just do it already,” you mumble though, and your eyes tear up at the corners.

So fucking cute. He shrugs the eyepatch off too, half for comfort, half at the grabbing of your hands. And pulls back just in time to see how much it pains you to admit it out loud, and rubs his fingers over your wet, pebbled nipples while your eyes flutter and your hands go open and closed at the feeling. He keeps one hand busy by unlacing part of your dress, as the other pinches each nipple until you suck your lip into your mouth and can’t stand it anymore. “Please, big brother? ‘Mond, please-uhh. Please, please do it? W-want you to.”

His lips curl up again at your admission, as he takes you in a few more seconds, grinds his center against your thigh while he’s at it. His cock is leaking enough pre to make a wet spot on his undergarments, red head twitching every few seconds. If he’ll wait any longer he might explode— until you finally give up and wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back close to you in total embarrassment. “I saved myself for my big broth-errr—” you whine like a child, burying your face into his neck, “so please! Only wanted my big brother to- I swear. Only love my Aemond.”

This way you don’t see— just what it does. This way you don’t notice it has him hook, line and sinker, and he grunts out loud as he has to grab the base of his cock tight not to shoot hot ropes of cum all over your thighs. He lets you press your tits into him as he shudders over you, and you make a little noise as he suddenly yanks the dress down your body, over your thighs and kicks it aside. “Off, get this off…” You open your teary eyes to see him plant another kiss onto your face, down your neck and to your tits as your chest heaves against him. Your panties are absolutely soaked, and he’d make a crude comment about it if he was any more lucid— but…

He can’t possibly think about anything but sliding his heavy cock inside your little cunt. “Fuck, fuck… you want to fuck me?” His fingers slide over the wet patch as your mouth cracks open a sliver, before peeling them off you with impatient yanks. You nod wildly into it in response, and let him press another kiss onto your mouth to tangle your wet, squirming little tongue with his. It’s vile, the way he thinks about fucking you like this. But it’s all that overtakes him, rutting his leaking cock against that wet little slit. And his fingers have to push in a little to make it halfway into your wet pussy, softly scissoring you apart as your mouth opens more. “You’re dripping all over my hand,” he breathes into your mouth, and you close your eyes and pull your lips into a tight little line.

“‘M sorry.”

“You imbecile.” The dry, non-humoured chuckle is unexpected even to him, as he pulls his wet fingers from between your legs to slip them straight into his mouth and his eye rolls into the back of his skull with a low groan. His fingers go back to rub at that wet slit, as you moan and whine his name like it’s a prayer. His cock bobs heavily between his legs while he fingers you in the heat of the shared bed, and you mumble noises against his skin.

“Aemond, Aemo-ngh.. big, you’re— r-big.” You’re panting, and shivering as his fingers slide in and out and get wetness to drip all the way to your ass, all over the inside of your thighs. Not even to talk about the pride burning along his neck at the way you’re clinging to him like you mean it. Your cunt stretches each time he moves them in and out and spreads them apart, staring at the way your little pussy clenches around his thick, long fingers with each pump. “Big brother—”

“Like that?”

“Mhm-” you’re nodding like a madman, and thighs shaking a little, but your tears are still glistening at the corners of your eyes, “I- f-feels good, bu-but you’re- going so- deep.” He doesn’t tell you that what you’ll be fitting in there in a few seconds will be much bigger, and only lets you drench the bed and wait for you to push back into his hand for that wet ‘pap, pap, pap’ sound and his palm can rub over your little nub. The sapphire in his eye socket makes obnoxious flickers on the walls, that only seem to cheer him on. Not for nothing, watching his baby sister cream all over his fingers like you are. “O-oh,” you say after a while, allowing him to curl his fingers all the way into you and your spongey, perfect spot to make your lower body curl so needily. “I… feel weird, Ae— feels- good- hng.”

Your little pussy is so wet everything’s glossy and needy, and his two fingers can finally slide in and out without much more resistance; though your noises would hardly convince him otherwise. Mewling and whimpering like you’re going to cry any second— it has him rock hard and so fucking sensitive. “I need you to keep that little cunt open for me, okay?” He presses the words into your mouth before rubbing his fingers over your puffy, needy clit; and you make to wrap your thighs around his glutes to keep him right to you— not that he’d go anywhere. “‘ll put it in. Have my cock filling my little sister up.”

He pats his cock against your clit a few times, before nodding at it. “Keep your thighs open, come on.” He doesn’t wait up for you to act as he pushes the leaking tip against your pretty, clenching hole and leans over you to nose at your neck, grabbing at your perky, pretty tits to pebble up your nipples more with each swipe, before kissing you again. He can’t help it, can’t get enough of your moans into his mouth, filling up the room. He pushes in, the slowest he can bare as your hot fucking pussy envelops his cockhead and you moan and whine. “Oh, dear g— goin’ to fuck my little sister for real,” he breathes back, too much to keep it in.

“Ah, ah, ah— Aemond- Aw, oh-hmn- ah.” Your desperate little noises are impossible. Sliding in deeper with each breath, over filling that tiny pouch of your tummy like he was always meant to be inside it. His arms strain not to fuck right into you hard and fast with the way you’re wiggling and curling against him, slick a soft pink when he pulls back to thrust in deeper. “Big bro—ther,” you whine it long and needy, as it has him sliding into you until he bumps up against the walls of your tight fucking cunt. So tight it’s making his balls pull up, entire body so hot it’s almost unbearable. Your one Targaryen claim to heritage. His little sister.

“Love you, big brother, l-love you.”

“Ugh, shit, you’re so tiny. So tight, hot— and wet,” he’s rambling to himself more than to you as he rocks himself into that spongy spot in you, watching your body try to take all of him in. Your eyes are a little lidded, glistening and so pretty and desperate as he pulls back and into you again, hitting your cervix once more. You shudder, and he can’t help but press onto your tummy to make the fit even tighter. It’s too much. Your clenching walls around his big, hard cock— that tight, wet little cunt clinging onto him each time he pulls back, your face as he takes you. “You’re only mine,” he hisses, “only mine, you understand? Gon’ make you my wife and make you carry my heirs. Waiting to give your maidenhood away to the better brother, right?”

“Hng, yes- yes, yes! Please!” You kiss him first, before grinding hard against him and pulling at his hand. “Aemond, Aem— b- I feel- weird-” you admit, smacking your lips and desperately curling your toes against his glutes. “Big bro-ther-agh-h—”

He can’t possibly stop now, frown instantly digging into his brows as you cling to him. He doesn’t bother to even pretend to care as his cock kisses your pussy walls and his white pubic hair rubs over your overly sensitive nub, but you keep on whining for him. “Weird how?” He pulls his face up from your neck only to watch how your cheeks are flushed and your eyes flick all over his face, your tongue jutting out. And suddenly, it doesn’t take you explaining for him to press his rough thumb to your clit and rub rapid circles into it, for you to start going all tense. “This? You want to come for me like a good, little whore?”

You can’t speak. Only clench your eyes shut as he keeps rubbing- and grabs your face with his free hand. “Look at me. Look at me as you get to come on big brother’s cock.” You physically can’t open your eyes through your tears, but he demands it anyway, and watches as you go a bit cross-eyed at the perfect pressure. Your cunny clenches so hard around his cock it hurts, but he doesn’t stop his hips and the loud sound of skin meeting skin. “No one loves you like I do,” he says it like a prayer, whispering into the silence as your mouth drops open and you let out some broken noises, “no one.”

And you desperately claw at his back and tangle your fingers into his hair to pull, your legs tightening around his thighs to get his steady, brutal pace to slow down even a little— but nothing stops your orgasm from crashing over you with a pitched squeak of his name, and your body shuddering so hard beneath him the bed creaks with the motion. Each hard bottoming out in your small cunt having you jerking and moaning a string of unintelligible explicites into his mouth, before he kisses you long and deep. Your tongue can barely do anything except take what he gives, until he fucks you through your orgasm and his balls are so, so hot, his cock twitching every few breaths.

You look perfect as you come down and let him fuck into you even more, pussy like a vice around his too-big-for-you cock. It’s a miracle really, it didn’t happen sooner. Two of a whole. As always, you take and he gives, as is your role in the family.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2022. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[hbdttg]

Part 1 / tag list below the cut

“I’m quitting,” Eddie declares, “I’m out. Call me a tree, ‘cause I’m leaving. Call me a banana, ‘cause I’m splitting. T-t-t-t-that’s all, folks!” he adds, doing his best impression of Porky Pig’s signature stammering.

Chrissy’s laser focus doesn’t stray from her monitor, even when Eddie bodily throws himself into the chair across her desk with a long, strangled groan. Wordlessly, she raises her left index finger at him in a silencing gesture. With her brows furrowed in concentration, she drags her mouse around on its pad and double-clicks something on her screen before nodding decisively to herself. After another few clicks, she finally lowers her finger, raises her eyes, and meets Eddie’s gaze.

“Would you mind grabbing what I just printed? Please?” she asks, smiling at him imploringly.

Chrissy could ask Eddie to bleach his hair and shave off an eyebrow and he’d do it. She’s actually who he has to thank for landing such a cushy job with HHH—a referral from a trusted associate like her goes a long way in a place like this.

And despite Eddie’s many complaints about becoming a corporate sellout, he can’t deny that it certainly has its perks. The office is only a ten-minute commute from his apartment, the compensation agreement he signed amounted to more money than his last two jobs combined, his benefits package is frankly ridiculous, and he gets to work with one of his best friends in the world. Overall, not a bad gig.

Even so, he makes a show of sighing, loud and longsuffering, before doing as Chrissy asks, leaving her office to grab her job off the printer. Eddie knows she works in HR and some of her stuff can get pretty confidential, so he doesn’t even try to skim the contents of the page as he walks it back over to her.

“Here,” he says, thrusting the paper at Chrissy facedown.

“Thanks!” she says. She makes no moves to take it from him. “That’s for you, actually.”

Curious, Eddie takes the paper back and flips it over. In the center of the page is a graphic of safety sign one might find in a cartoon factory, though Chrissy had edited the original from “[___] Days Since Last Accident” to “[___] Days Since Eddie Last Threatened to Quit His Job”. There’s a big red zero in the counter box.

Eddie tries to glower down at Chrissy, but it’s sort of hard to maintain when she bursts into laughter. It’s been years, but the sound of Chrissy laughing like this, all bright and breathless and unrestrained, never fails to transport him back to his (third) senior year of high school, when they first became friends over a failed drug deal.

“Don’t be cute,” Eddie says with a laughable lack of authority, dropping heavily back down into the chair.

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” Chrissy counters, brow raised archly.

Eddie rolls his eyes, crumpling the page into a ball and lobbing it in between them.

Chrissy lets the ball land harmlessly on her desk before sweeping it into the trashcan by her feet.  “Just so you know, I’ve had that saved on my desktop since Monday—and I haven’t had to edit the days count a single time.”

Eddie scoffs, but it’s hard to defend himself when this current visit marks the fifth day in a row he’s floundered into her office, vainly announcing his resignation. “Yeah, well,” he says weakly, “printing it seems like a gross misuse of company resources.”

“What are you going to do, report me?” Chrissy says with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

“Let me guess: you’re the one who receives those reports?” Eddie says dryly.

“Yep!” she says cheerfully. “Now, go on and tell me about your latest trainwreck of an interaction with Steve Harrington.”

“Christ, Chris!” Eddie hisses, leaping to his feet and immediately spinning around to check if anyone was around to hear her damning words. The coast is clear, luckily, but he still scrambles to shut her office door before falling back into his chair. “You can’t just go around saying his name all willy-nilly.”

“He’s not gonna suddenly appear if you say his name three times, Eddie. See, watch. Steve. Steve. St—”

“Don’t risk it!” Eddie squawks loudly, cutting her off.

“You’re an absolute mess,” she says through a laugh, shaking her head at him.

And well, Chrissy’s not wrong.

Eddie’s been a mess since Monday morning, when he unknowingly produced, directed, and starred in The Roast of Steve Harrington. He blames his shitty memory for forgetting what floor his new office was on—if he’d known he was sharing the elevator with someone he could have potentially worked with (let alone someone whose surname made up a third of the company name), he wouldn’t have opened his big, fat mouth in the first place.

When he finally gathered the courage to make it back down to the fifty-second floor and show his face at the HHH office, he kicked off his onboarding with Chrissy with a strangled, “I know it’s my first day and I technically just started ten minutes ago, but I quit. Thank you for the opportunity and good-bye forever.”

Chrissy, the traitor, spent a full five minutes laughing in his face over his shamefully recounted story before patting him twice on the head and informing him he wasn’t allowed to quit for at least six months. The overly saccharine tone of her voice alone told Eddie there was no room for argument there.

Still, that didn’t stop him from following her into her office after the all-hands meeting on Tuesday, all the while whining in her ear, “I can’t thrive in these conditions, Chrissy. Please, I beg of you—accept my sincere and humble resignation from this cursed hellscape.”

‘These conditions’ consisted of any rooms and/or conversations that contained Steve Harrington. Eddie hadn’t been expecting to see the guy doting over the catering when he walked into the conference room that afternoon, and he certainly wasn’t expecting his supervisor and trainer, Murray, to lead him over to Steve to introduce the two of them (though that was likely just an excuse to head straight for the sandwiches that were laid out for the meeting).

While Eddie choked on his own tongue trying to spit out some generic, inoffensive greeting, Steve merely watched him with an amused smirk before thrusting his hand out and offering a perfectly friendly “It’s nice to meet you, Eddie, I’m Steve”, as if Eddie didn’t have Steve’s name and face (and stupidly fit body—who the fuck looks that good in a pair of khakis?!) burnt into his memory from the day prior.

Afterward, Murray, who most assuredly did not have a filter of any kind, bluntly commented on Eddie’s awkwardness, then spent the next five minutes trying to determine if it was normal, strangers-meeting-for-the-first time awkwardness, or something more sensational. Eddie stubbornly kept his mouth shut until the meeting started.

Wednesday followed a similar pattern, with Eddie flouncing into Chrissy’s office with a dramatic “I choose to break my blood oath. At this point I’d welcome the sweet release of death if it meant I didn’t have to work here anymore.”

Chrissy just corrected him, patiently explaining that he was employed at-will, rather than by blood oath, and that if he left before his sixth month, she’d personally skin him alive. Eddie had to pause and weigh the pros and cons of being skinless. Surely it couldn’t be worse than his latest exchange with Steve—via email this time, mercifully.

He’d just learned how to field helpdesk tickets and received one from Steve Harrington himself. It was a simple enough software request ticket, so he assigned it to himself and replied with next steps, asking Steve for a code so he could remote into his computer and install the program.

Steve replied back, asking where he was supposed to find the code. It was an innocuous enough question, but then Eddie noticed something a little off about his email signature: his last name was bolded.

Eddie ignored it, assuming it was a stylistic choice—nothing to read into, surely—but then Steve sent another email shortly after to let him know to disregard his last email; he’d found the right app and was just waiting for it to generate a code. This time, Harrington was bolded and at least two sizes bigger than his first name.

Then, in Steve’s third email, sent not a minute later with the requested code, Harrington was bolded, two sizes bigger than his first name, and highlighted yellow—a tactic Chrissy found so hilarious that she had to shoo Eddie out of her office with tears in her eyes so that she could compose herself and actually get some work done.

Thursday was a blessed reprieve from Steve’s unique brand of psychological warfare, but Eddie still somehow managed to royally humiliate himself in front of him. After he slunk into her office and silently pushed a scribbled-on napkin across her desk—

Please accept this letter as my formal resignation from my position as Systems Analyst II at HHH, effective immediately. Effective yesterday. In fact, I’ll pay you back the entirety of my wages earned if we just forget I ever worked here.

—Chrissy tutted at him sympathetically before taking the napkin and reaching over to dab it at the large wet stain on his shirt.

He’d been walking back to his desk from the breakroom when he rounded a corner and bumped into Steve in the hallway. Literally bumped into, bodily contact and surprised yelps and everything. And it probably wouldn’t have been such a big deal, really, if not for the fact that he had a newly refilled mug of coffee in his hand.

“Eddie, oh my god, are you okay?”

No, Eddie wasn’t okay, because he just splashed himself with hot fucking coffee and now Steve Harrington was worriedly fussing over him and tentatively trying to mop up the liquid with his own fucking hands for some reason, and he was embarrassed (and a little turned on?) and he had to get the fuck out of there now.

“I’m okay, sorry, it’s fine—” he managed to squeak before whirling around and scurrying to the bathroom.

So yes, Eddie’s been an absolute mess the past few days, and today is no different.

…Actually, scratch that. Today is different. Today is worse.

“Okay, now spill,” Chrissy says. “What happened?”

With another drawn-out, pitiful groan, Eddie sinks down in his seat and lets his neck hang off the backrest, blinking up at the ceiling.

“Talk to me, Eds,” Chrissy says, concern starting to bleed into her voice. “If he’s actually bullying you, you can file a complaint. I have a form here somewhere.”

Eddie hears her open one of her desk drawers and reluctantly sits up. “He’s not bullying me, Mom,” he says with a huff. “We actually…we talked.”

“You talked?” Chrissy asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, about the elevator. Buried the hatchet and everything. I said sorry, we laughed about it, it’s over and done with.” Eddie’s gaze darts around Chrissy’s desk, searching for something to distract him from the warm and fuzzy feeling growing in his stomach at the memory of their conversation.

“That’s great, I’m so proud of you!” Chrissy says cheerfully. “But wait, if you two are good now…”

Eddie doesn’t want her to ask what she’s about to ask, because the answer might be more embarrassing than all of his other Steve stories combined.

“Why are you still going on about quitting?”

Eddie drops his face into his hands, feeling totally and utterly pathetic. “Um, because I think I’m sort of, kind of, just a little bit…in love with him?”

-------------------------------------

tbh I didn’t think I’d be writing a second part, but if strangers on the internet validate me enough, I guess I’ll do anything~

Y’ALL. I’m blown away by the response to part one of this silly lil au. I didn’t reply to any of the lovely comments or tags, but please know if you engaged in any way (or even if you just read the fic and snorted a little through your nose at a bit you found funny) I love you with my entire heart and you’ve made my entire life.

[Now for the tag list, which I’ve never done before. Sorry if you didn’t actually want to be on here! Or, sorry if you’re stumbling upon this post on your own after asking to be tagged and I missed you oops.]

@messrs-weasley @n0-1-important @bornonthesavage @thing-a-ling @eddiemunsonswife @changenamelater @ispyblu @thesuninyaface

@invisibleflame812 @4nemo1egend @ikolanatari @mavernanche @songbird-garden @trashpocket @original-cypher @over7joyed 

@commonxsenss @justdyingontheinside @mojowitchcraft @maya-custodios-dionach @justmiiriam @imzadidragonfly @lillemilly @gay-stranger-things @child-of-cthulhu @bleedingoptimism @lemanzanabizarra @melaniehere91

@iswearitsjustme @silver-snaffles @csinnamon-fox @paint-music-with-me @epicsteddieficrecs @sweetcreaturetm @hxneyfarms @bossyknow-it-all @vecnuthy @stevethehairington @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @nburkhardt

@gayngerthings @patchworkgargoyle @violetsteve @henderdads @2btheanswertothequestion

[wordstome]

Last night I did what I always do when I can’t fall asleep: think about fictional men. Here’s a list of wonderful stories written by incredibly talented people who have helped me think about fictional men by providing the most delicious playgrounds.

In the interest of keeping my recommendations brief, I'm going to talk about what I liked about the fic instead of summarizing what it's about. To know what it's actually about you're just gonna have to click through and read the fic <3

(and just in case anybody's gotten lost, this is all COD, mostly modern MW)

✦ complete ║ ➠ ongoing

König

✦Just Friends by @kneelingshadowsalome Salome is so good at capturing a very unique interplay between König’s social awkwardness and his deep, dark, nasty inclinations. He’s so feral and enjoyable to read, and the sheer force of his desire for Engel is downright intoxicating. I find it difficult to describe how much of an impact Just Friends has had on me and my portrayal of König, to be honest. There's a reason why three of Salome's fics are on this rec list.

✦Fatum Nos Iungebit by kneelingshadowsalome Five words. König with his cock out. That's it. Okay, but in all seriousness, I love his character applied to this setting. All the raw visceral violence a König could ever want, a pretty little lady in his bed—he's so boyish and happy in this au it brings me such joy. The way their relationship between him and Fee develops is so natural and so sweet. Please for the love of God read this.

➠Cat/Mouse/Den by @papaver-decervicatus The chase. The pursuit. The adrenaline when Mouse dances out of König's reach once more. I'm a little biased because I adore Julius and Jenny (I could call her Lucretia but the double J names make me giggle) as ocs already, but CMD is so, so well written. The tension, the flirting, the scene where he catches her falling out of the tree?! As I said in a reblog, I shrieked. You know when you're reading something that's so good you want to bite down on it and shake like a dog with a toy? (No? Just me?) That's how I feel about CMD.

➠Anything by @darklordofthesimp Anything, in only 7 chapters (they are hefty, don’t get me wrong), has turned König and Birdy’s dynamic from “THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS IRREVERSIBLY SCARRED MY BODY AND MY BRAIN, AND I CANNOT TRUST HIM” to “these two are going to get married someday”. (author if you’re reading this, I say that not as an expectation or prediction, but as a vibe reading.) This one is for the hurt/comfort girlies. Also, shoutout to all the other stories set in the Anything-verse. Sunshine and Ghost are just soooo *grips my hand in a fist so hard it shakes*

➠If you need to be mean by @gremlingottoosilly This mostly serves as a blanket recommendation for all of Gremlin’s fics. I found If you need to be mean, and then visiting Gremlin’s author page was like opening a treasure chest. Want to be König’s pampered, (unwilling) little housewife? That’s If you need to be mean. Want a harem fic with almost all of the COD MW men? Gremlin has two, both with their own little spin to keep it fun. Do you want König to keep you in his basement or hunt you down as a serial killer? Gremlin's got it. Monsterfucker? Gremlin has that too. Special shoutout goes to 1295 kilometers. I think about fucking König on a train a lot now.

➠Break my mind by @kaiasdevotion (kaiasown on ao3) There’s no way around this. This fic has the most unhinged, kinky, downright dangerous smut I’ve read in the cod fandom so far (positive). Just Friends König is the metric by which I judge all other Königs’ nastiness, and Break my mind König is tipping so hard on the “unhinged horny violent freak (affectionate)” end of the scale he’s about to fall off. I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I've developed a taste for writing/reading from König's perspective, and he's so chillingly deranged in the most controlled way possible during the chapters from his pov. Incredible writing. Chefs kiss.

✦Experimental by @uhohdad (surgeoninspace on ao3) Alright, enough of just König being nasty. He is still nasty in this one, but he’s not the only one who gets to have a little fun and be a total creep. Our little scientist here is a grade A pervert, and I was delighted the whole way through. The most important thing I need in a fic is suspension of disbelief, and Experimental takes an unrealistic, maybe a little bit silly situation and makes it so believable. Everybody reacts the way you would expect them to, even if the scenario they're in is A Lot.

➠Little Mouse and Rotes Madchen by @sprout-fics I'm combining the recommendation for these two because while they are both very much distinct, unique fics, I love them the same way. Sprout is such an engaging writer, and the internal dialogue of her characters is so well done. It reveals their personality, motivations, and internal conflicts without being overly expository. Do you guys remember that post I put on the König bible about instant obsession? It's this inexorable attraction borne from obsession that sticks me to Little Mouse like a glue trap. (Is that too morbid?)

✦Hot in Sarajevo by @50cal-fullauto Rags' König characterization post is on my Königcore bible, for very good reason. They get it. König is a feral dog forced to live as a man and loves like a total maniac, emotionally and sexually. I marked Hot in Sarajevo as complete but I don't know how many parts there are going to be, and frankly, I do want more. However, if you're going to only read one part (which. why would you do that??? read both.) I recommend the second part. I want to write love like that. Goddamn.

Ghost

Yeah, this list is a little bare bones right now. I'm gonna get back to it, I promise.

✦Anhedonia by kneelingshadowsalome The way. Salome takes the "I would take a bullet for him but he's so cold to me" premise and then flips it entirely on its head for the second part is so important to me. The way Simon craves the reader is like human catnip. I reread this fic all the time.

Keegan

✦For the Weak and Weary by @halcyone-of-the-sea Read this if you want to believe in true love. That's all. Go on now.

Multiple

✦Easy by @danibee33 When people say "I wish this were a book!" about fanfiction, they usually mean it in a "this is good enough to be published by the traditional publishing industry" way. When I say I want Easy (and Diablesa) to be a book, I mean it in a "I want to get this story bound in a beautiful ass cover and keep it on a shelf so I can take it down and reread it whenever I want" way. I don't want the traditional publishing industry to get their claws in this, because it's perfect as it is. This fic is so wild and fun, and the character moments are so special and well done. Do yourself a favor and savor this one.

➠@ghouljams's entire blog [masterlist] "What do you mean someone's entire blog" YOU HEARD ME. Those aus are some good shit. Good characterization, delicious premises, love the group effort of it all. To absolutely nobody's surprise, my favorite couple is König and Bee from the cowboy au (ditzy but well-meaning and competent in her own way woman x big strong man who is obsessed with her and maybe also creeping on her, my beloved), but I also have a fondness for Ghost and Die from demon darlings au. Trust me on this one. Dig into those masterlists babey.

[a-case-of-attachment]

The Lamb & The Serpent

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x sinner fem!reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Lucifer being a chaotic mess, mentions of sex, swearing, the morning after, awkwardness, Lucifer being awkward, fluff, romance isn’t dead, Lucifer has no chill when he decides what he wants, pancakes, angst, Lucifers past relationship with Lilith.

Please click -> here <- to read on AO3

Waking up next to you is like a dream come true. 

Lucifer had been confused at first, the odd weight across his legs and shoulders so unfamiliar that he thought for a moment that he had conjured extra pillows in his sleep in an attempt to fill the empty gap not just in his bed but also in his heart. He had been left feeling a little heartbroken and hollow by that thought, his loneliness getting the better of him for just a second but then he had opened his eyes and come face to face with your sleeping form and it was like all the air had been knocked out of him. The confusion doubles momentarily, especially when Lucifer realises you’re both naked and it’s just his wings covering the two of you but then everything from the night before comes rushing back to the forefront of his mind and Lucifer has a completely different problem. 

Lucifer can feel his soft member stirring in interest at the memories of your night together, and very quickly he becomes aware of how closely the two of you are, bodies intertwined like even in your sleep you couldn’t bare to be parted from one another. His half hard member twitches, pressing against the thigh you had pressed between his legs and sending a shard zing of pleasure down his spine. He only just manages to stop himself from crying out like a startled babe, instead making a weird high pitched squeaking noise like a mouse that had just been trodden on. How he didn’t wake you up was beyond him but by some miracle you remained asleep, the only indication that Lucifer had disturbed you a gentle huff as you snuggled closer to him.

Lucifer lays as still as he can, hands hovering awkwardly above you as he waits for you to settle back down. He uses those precious seconds to calm himself down, thinking about that tacky deer demon to get his growing erection under control. It works surprisingly well and by the time your sleeping soundly again Lucifer has softened enough that he doesn’t feel like he’s about to start humping your leg at the slightest movement. He’s left with another problem though, Lucifer not quite sure what he should be doing now that he was awake and you weren’t.

It had been decades since the last time he had woken up with someone else in his bed and though he had done this for eons before that Lucifers mind comes up blank when he tries to recall the proper etiquette for the morning after. Is he supposed to leave? Untangle himself from your warm and comforting embrace and sneak out the room without waking you? Should he stay? Indulge in this closeness that he had been missing for so long? Or should he wake you? Placing kisses on every inch of exposed skin he could reach until tour eyes fluttered open, and he was blessed with your sleepy smile? It was too many options with too many possibilities of what could happen if he got it wrong and he very much did not want to get it wrong with you.

It had been easy with Lilith, her hight and more dominant nature meaning Lucifer was always the little spoon, his ex-wife curling round his back and holding him as close as he could get. He’s not used to being held any other way and though he’s not the big spoon in this situation he’s also not the little one either, the two of you wrapped around one another in a way that left the whole spoon analogy completely unusable. That’s not to say it’s unpleasant, far from it. It’s just, Lucifer doesn’t know where he’s supposed to put his hands or if his legs are in the completely wrong place or if his wings are to heavy where they are still draped across you. He doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable but unless he wakes you up he’s not going to know if that’s the case or not, and he is most definitely not disturbing you when you look so peaceful, snuggled up against him under his wings and looking way to much like a slice of paradise that Lucifer had thought he would never het to experience again.

Uncertain if he was doing the right thing or not Lucifer had gently let his arms settle back around you, his body still incredibly stiff as he waited for a reaction of some kind to his sudden movement. When nothing happened Lucifer let himself relax, sighing contently as he tightened his hold and pulled you just that little bit closer so the two of you are pressed together everywhere you could be. His dick stirs slightly at the sudden contact with you but its not as urgent, Lucifer able to dismiss it as he pressed his face into your hair, his hold on you tightening just a fraction like he was afraid you would disappear in he let you go. Like a dream fading from his mind as consciousness called him back to the land of the living.

He had forgotten how nice it was to have another body pressed against his. To be held in someone’s arms and wake up feeling cared for and loved. Lucifer had missed this, more than he had realised and getting to have it with you, oh it was a delight like no other. Well almost like no other but they were two very different things and couldn’t be compared. He wants to stay like this forever, happy and content to just exist within the safety of your arms. It feels like Heaven, like paradise made flesh and Lucifer can’t remember the last time he had felt so beatific.

He’s so full of joy and happiness that Lucifer desperately wants to wake you up to share in it. He wants to lay a hundred, no a thousand kisses upon you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. He wants to see you smile at him, all sleepy and content as you wake up to the feel of his lips on your ankle. He wants to hear you laugh when his hair tickles the back of your knee, to be treated to the delight of your sweet sighs as he found a home between your thighs. Oh, how he wanted but you looked ever so sweet in your slumber, all soft and at peace. Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to ruin such a heavenly sight. 

He had moved as slowly as he could, taking great pains to make sure he didn’t disturb you as he got out of bed. A task that was easier said than done considering the two of you were practically wrapped around the other. It took a gate deal of effort and careful manoeuvring not to wake you and there were a couple of moments where he froze, looking very much like a deer in headlights as you moved, grumbling something under your breath that sounded suspiciously like his name before settling back down again. When he finally managed to free himself from you, Lucifer made sure to conjure a blanket as soft as his wings to drape over you before pulling on his new sleep pants and slipping his hooves into the duck slippers. Then he was out the door, pulling it to because he didn’t wanting to risk the sound of it closing waking you up and ruin all his hard work to make sure that didn’t happen. 

The candles and flower petals are still all over the floor, though the candles are now more like hard pools of wax on the floor, having burned themselves out somewhen whilst the two of you had slept. Lucifer is too happy to care about the potential fire hazard that had flickered and burned whilst he had been preoccupied, humming away to himself as he makes his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Pancakes. That’s what would make this morning even better than it already was. Lucifer would make a stack of them, laden a try full of the things as well as tea, juice, fruit and whatever else he could think of before surprising you with breakfast in bed. It was a perfect romantic follow up to what you had done for him last night and sure to have you smiling at him as brightly as the dawn on a summers day.

Maybe if he was lucky, after he had wowed you with his cooking skills, Lucifer would be able to tempt you to spend the rest of the day in bed with him, the two of you intertwined and finding sweet bliss in the other’s arms. There was so much he wanted to do with you, to you, for you, his mind racing with the possibilities and leaving him half hard in the confines of his trousers. There were months worth of silenced fantasies and bitten off desires that he now got to indulge in, a whole plethora of sin just waiting to be shared and he could hardly wait to have you again, in any way you would allow him.

But first, breakfast.

With a plan in mind and the gentle hum of arousal under his skin Lucifer had descended upon the kitchen, noisily pulling together everything he would need to make you the best breakfast you had ever had. He spent the whole time humming and singing to himself about how he had a “lovely little lady in my bed, she’s the cutest little sleepy head. I’m making her pancakes because I appreciate my sweet little cheesecake. Cheesecake? That was terrible. Does she even like cheesecake? Do I like cheesecake? What even is a cheesecake?” He didn’t care that he got flower in his hair and that there was at least one cracked egg on the floor, to happy to be bothered by the mess he was making. 

Lucifer loved you, he was certain of it and having you here with him, not just in his bed but in his home seemed so right that it was hard to believe he had gone all these months without it. Physical desire aside, Lucifer really did want you to stay and not just for the day. His home always seemed so empty after you returned to the hotel, Lucifer always longing for the next moment he would be with you as soon as you had gone from sight but what if you didn’t go back to the hotel? What if you stayed here with him? It had only been a handful of months and the two of you had only just consummated your relationship, but Lucifer desperately wanted to move in with you, be that here or at the hotel. Here would be preferable, the house affording you a level of privacy that the hotel wouldn’t. Plus, if you moved in here Lucifer could make love to you in every single room, even the hall closet and there wouldn’t be anyone around to ruin it or to be quiet for. Not that regular sex was the only reason Lucifer wanted you to move in, it was just a happy by-product of you being here. He wanted the companionship more than anything, to know that there was someone to come home to who loved and cared for him just as he was and not for what people wanted him to be. 

He wanted to make a home with you, wanted to fill every room with your personality and things. He wanted to walk through the door and see your coat hung up next to his, your shoes tucked away in the closet next to his boots. He wanted to walk into the parlour and find your books on the table and blankets thrown over the sofa. He wanted to see all your little knickknacks mixed in with his, wanted photos of the two of you to be hung up on walls or sat on shelves. He wanted to open his closet and find half the space taken up by your clothes, to have your toiletries mixed in with his in the bathroom and smell your perfume in the pillows on the bed. Lucifer wanted to share his life with you in every way imaginable and he didn’t want to wait any longer than he already had. He would ask you before the day was out, imagining himself whispering it in between kisses as he made love to you once more but knowing he would probably blurt it out like a madman before you had even taken your first bite of breakfast. Either way he would get the question out there and hopefully you would say yes, Lucifer personally moving your things into the house as soon as had finished celebrating with you.

A glint of gold caught his eye as he flipped a pancake in the frying pan, his eyes dropping down to the gold band on his finger. The happiness that he had been feeling since waking up to you waned, his smile falling as he stared at the surprisingly heavy reminder of his past. Honestly Lucifer had almost forgotten about it, wearing it more out of habit at this point than any sense of longing or devotion to his ex-wife. You had never mentioned it, not once and now he was actually thinking about it Lucifer didn’t think he had even caught you looking at it before but surely you must know it was there? You had to have been able to feel it the night before, the cold metal pressing against your heated skin as his hands explored your body. That realisation makes him feel sick, the thought that as he had been making love to you that you would be thinking he was anything but devoted to you, that you weren’t the sole focus of his attention and affections. Yes, Lilith was his first love, his first everything actually and a part of him would always care for her but that part of his life was over, ancient history even and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he was using you as some sort of stand in. 

He should take it off. Should have taken it off years ago and thrown it into the deepest toxic waist pool he could find down in Greed. He should do those things, so why hadn’t he? You made him happy, incredible so and one day he wanted to have your ring on his finger, but he couldn’t do that if he still had his old one on. That was just disrespectful, to you and to Lilith. His fingers twitched, the pancake he had been sliding onto the growing stack next to him almost ending up on the floor at the sudden movement. He should take it off, he needed to take it off if he wanted to move on with his relationship with you but he just, couldn’t. He had worn it for so long now that it was a part of him, the metal having worn down and smoothed the skin underneath. Taking it off felt like being asked to cut off a part of him, something small and unimportant, like a kidney. Yes, he could function without one, but it would still be better if he had two. 

Putting the last pancake on the sizeable stack he had made Lucifer felt a lot less happy than he had been when he started cooking. He’s being ridiculous, more so than normal. You hadn’t even asked him to take it off and Lucifer honestly didn’t think you would, not any time soon anyway. That didn’t change the fact that he felt like an asshole for still having it on. What must you think of him? Lucifer making all these declarations of love and devotion whilst still wearing his wedding ring from his earlier marriage. You must hate him, well maybe not hate him but surely you were upset by it and a little disgusted even. Lucifer was, the band almost feeling like it was burning as his mind raced with all the possible ways, he could be hurting you without even realising.

Taking a deep breath Lucifer tries to still the slight shaking in his hands. What he needed to do is talk to you. Charlie was always telling him that “communication makes or breaks a relationship. How can you expect someone to trust if you’re not honest with them.” Admittedly she had been talking about her little group of weirdo friends at the hotel, but she wasn’t wrong. A lack of communication had almost been your undoing already. If the two of you had just spoken to one another like most well adjusted adults did then you could have avoided a lot of stress and worry. He had to be honest with you, tell you that he wasn’t still wearing the ring because he was still in love with Lilith but because he had worn it for eons now, the familiar weight and feel of it a grounding point when he was at his worst and the thought of taking it of scared him more than he would ever like to admit. Like he might fall apart without it there to keep him together.

Lucifer was sure you would understand. Or if you didn’t you would at least be able to grant him the time to work past his fears and insecurities. Time that he would use to show you that he was all in, 1001% dedicated to you and this relationship. Lucifer was going to knock your socks off with how committed he was. He would be an amazing husband. Would wait on you hand and hoof every hour of every day, would worship the very ground you walked on and tell you often how amazing you were and how madly he was in love with you. He would cook every day, any dish that you desired would be yours within an instant. Even if he had no clue what it was you were after he would find out and deliver it to you with a flourish of love and devotion. You would never lift a finger, Lucifer even taking care of all the cleaning. Admittedly not himself but he would conjure an imp or two to do it for him so surely that would count, right? The point was that Lucifer would take care of you and treasure you like the rare jewel you were, determined to show you his devotion to you by making you the centre of his world.  

Feeling a little less like a lying, cheating scum bag and more confident with his ability to continue wooing you Lucifer carried on getting breakfast ready, back to singing softly to himself about his plans to continue courting you as he pulled together extra little bits that he was sure you would like whilst somehow trying to fit it all on the try he had conjured up. He just managed to fit the vase of flowers on the tray with some careful balancing when there came a knock on the door, three loud evenly spaced taps that echoed down the hall and to the kitchen. Lucifer didn’t think nothing of it, mind happily occupied with thoughts of you and the delighted look on your face when he presented you with the breakfast he had made you. It didn’t occur to him that he didn’t get visitors to his home other than you and Charlie. You were already upstairs, and Charlie wouldn’t just drop by unannounced, a firm believer of calling ahead to make sure she didn’t upset any plans that had already been made. He didn’t stop to consider how he must look, shirtless with rubber duck covered sleep trousers on and covered in flour, not to mention the large yellow duck slippers on his feet. Without a care in the world Lucifer flung open the door, wide smile stretching almost painfully across his face as he greeted his unexpected guest with a cheerful “hel-lo-ooo!”

Lucifers smile fell instantly, a heavy ball of dread building in his stomach. Slowly he dragged his eyes up over satin covered curves, the purple fabric so dark it was almost black. Up over pail lilac skin and past golden blonde hair so long it practically touched the floor. Up past smirking magenta lips and all the way to violet eyes that he had been convinced he would never see again. He stumbled back slightly, hand gripping at the edge of the door to keep himself from falling to the floor. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not after seven years of nothing. No calls or texts, not even a letter. This couldn’t be real, had to be something sort of hallucination or something because this couldn’t be happening, not now. Not when he was finally moving on and finding some form of happiness again. 

Lucifer can feel himself spiralling, a whole host of emotions taking root and making him feel sick. Panic, confusion, hurt, anger. All of them and more though disbelief is the strongest to start with followed by a fear so fierce that it has him rooted to the spot, eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly, his sharp nails digging into the wood of the door. He watches as those magenta lips curled up into a smile that would have thousands falling at her feet, a shiver running down his spine as sharp calculating violet eyes raked over his form. That feeling of inadequacy that had clung to him the last few decades came back tenfold, Lucifer wanting to cower under the scrutiny. Just like that he was back in this very hallway eight years prior, watching helplessly as the women he had loved since the dawn of humanity walked out the door, long golden blonde hair swishing behind her as she disappeared without even a glance back at what she was leaving behind. 

Her softly spoken “Hello Lucifer,” cut through the looming darkness that was pressing in around him, his entire existence shrinking down to here and now as the weight of all his past mistakes pressed down on him, making him feel ten times smaller than he already was. Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat Lucifer said the one name that hadn’t graced his lips in almost five years, the syllables familiar and yet feeling like thorns in his mouth. 

His voice was nothing but a whisper, the sound of the city beyond threatening to drown it out but still she heard him, her smile widening and leaving Lucifer feeling very much like a bird about to be torn apart by a cat. He had used to like that feeling, relished in her pursuit of him and willingly giving himself over to be devoured. Now he felt like prey, trapped within her gaze with no means of escape. He got the uneasy feeling that was exactly where she wanted him. 

“Lilith”

@viannasthings @loquacious-libra @misfitgirlwrites

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Assignment 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your agree to cover an empty internship but the role isn't as easy as you expect. (older!reader)

Characters: boss!Lee Bodecker, glimpse of Andy Barber.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“I’ve already asked Anna. She has so much going on already with her daughter and you know I would if Stan wasn’t away on a work trip. Poor Melissa is just too new for a coverage position,” Nicole explains.

“Got it,” you say as you pack up the contents of your desk drawer. “I already said yes.” 

“I know, but I also know it’s a real pain. It’s just that there’s nowhere else that can spare the body and Mr. Barber owes Mr. Bodecker so--” 

“Yep, sacrificial lamb,” you utter dryly as you slide the drawer shut. “Really, Nicole, I get it. You don’t need to go on. We all know how this works. We go where they tell us too.” 

“Yeah, it’s just... he’s chased off three in the last two months. That kind of turnover...” she looks around. “They need someone mature. Who can handle the workload.” 

“Right,” you stand and pick up your box of things. “I won’t be that far away, no big deal.” 

She gives a tense smile and you turn away. You march out of your shared space and down the hall. You understand what she means by ‘workload’. Mr. Bodecker might be a hard ass for all you know but what everyone knows for sure is that he is a menace. There’s a reason those interns left almost soon as they got through the door. 

You claim the empty desk waiting for you and drop the box on it. You roll the chair out and sit. You should’ve wheeled yours over. You adjust the height and wiggle around. Hm, it’ll do. Work is work, no matter how comfortable you are. 

You stand again and take out your laptop and plug it in. Then you unpack your wireless mouse and keyboard and your pad with the wrist rest. You stretch your fingers above the tight brace and sigh. You can use all the ergonomic tools and aids but it’s not getting any better. 

No use putting it off any longer. He probably already knows. You go around the desk and knock on the closed door. 

“Come on in,” Mr. Bodecker drawls from the other side. 

You open the door and step into the doorway, “hello, Mr. Bodecker. Just letting you know I’ve got my stuff moved and I’ll be taking over for the time being, as requested by Mr. Barber.” 

“Barber? Old pal,” he says. “He sent you?” 

You hear it all in his tone. He sent you? I asked for a replacement, not an old lady. You don’t let it bother you. You’re not there for his pleasure. 

“Yes, me,” you confirm. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“Coffee, darlin’,” he winks. 

“Coffee?” 

“Double sugar, no cream.” 

“Sir, I’m an admin assistant, not an intern. I was referring more to your calendar or some tasks--” 

“I asked for the position to be filled. That means getting my coffee, sweetheart.” 

“Mm, sir,” you enunciate the last word sternly. “Again, I’m a professional. I don’t get anyone’s coffee but my own. Would you like me to review your meetings? Should I set aside some time to keep minutes for anything?” 

He huffs and sits back, his face wrinkling in consternation, “you can get outta my office.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

You close the door gently and return to the desk. You sit and tuck away your things in the single drawer. When you finally get sorted, you boot up your computer. Almost at once, a notification pops up. You click on it and a conversation expands across the screen. 

‘Thanks again for taking on the extra work. Please do your best to keep Mr. Bodecker happy. He’s working on a very important project.’ 

You review Mr. Barber’s message. The timing is peculiar. 

‘Yes, sir. I’ve checked in and offered to help arrange his schedule and tasks. I am awaiting further directive but will do my best to support.’ 

Three dots, then none, then three again. The next message pops up. 

‘Get him his coffee.’ 

Really? What is he, a child? Tattling on you? Over a cup of coffee. 

‘Sir, I understood I would perform admin work.’ 

The little eye blips down to show that your message is seen but no message comes. You shake your head and open your inbox. If the success of your work hinges on coffee, then you’re just as good going back with the others. 

You recognise Mr. Barber’s gait. You look up as he appears from around the corner. You sit up and greet him. His hands are in his pocket, his jacket pushed back, his neck and jaw tight. 

“I understand that you don’t think it’s part of your role but for now, it is. You will get Bodecker his coffee and anything else he asks for,” he says without courtesy. 

You try not to show your irritation. It isn’t just the task. You’re not some housewife or barista. On top of that, these men don’t talk to the young ones like this. Or the moms. Nicole and Anna can just mention daycare of soccer and they can get leeway and Melissa, so nice but young, she just needs to smile. That stopped working for you a long time ago. 

“Coffee,” you type as you speak, “I will add it to my roster, sir. I understand. Very important work.” 

“Come on,” he steps closer, looking down at you, “don't be like this. You’re a good worker. You know I respect you and appreciate everything you’ve done. It’s just coffee.” 

“Oh yes, just coffee,” you agree and stand up. “I better go put the pot on. Would you like a cup too, Mr. Barber?” 

He gives a slow blink and pushes his tongue into his cheek, “no, thank you.” 

His own agitation leaks through. He got what he wanted but you didn’t give him the deference he expected. You didn’t apologise for it. You just accepted it. You’ll do it, but you won’t be happy about it. 

“Try a smile,” Barber slips his hand from his pocket and taps the corner of the desk, “it might make things a little easier.” 

You stare at him. He lingers and when you don’t change your expression, he sighs and strides off. How many times had a man told you to smile? Why should you? For them? That’s why you don’t want to get the coffee; you give a little, they’ll take it all. 

[s-awturn]

Karma Is A Bitch | MV1

summary: S/N and Max invented hate at first sight, they hate each other from the first moment they met and never tried to make things better. The hatred between the two is real and almost palpable to the point of becoming karma... In the dirtiest sense of the word.

cw: Conflict, verbal fighting, insults and name calling, suggestive, mild smut (very little), mention of accidents, and what else? Somewhat based on the discussion between Max and Esteban (no explanation needed). No real events will be taken into consideration here, so everything was taken from my head (duh)

a/n: I wrote this based on Max's headcanon in "Pilots and their romantic tropes", because it stuck in my head and I needed to develop it. It's my first time with Max (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°) heheheh so he's gonna be a little OC, don't take it too seriously pls. I just saw that I reached 101 followers, I'm going to shout it out (I'll think of something to celebrate, suggestions?)

Melbourne, 2023

"You're doing great, kiddo," Hugh said into the headphones. "We're down to the last ten laps, keep doing that and we could have a double podium today."

"Cool," she said through gritted teeth, focused on keeping Lando where he was: on her tail. "How's the car? Can we fight Verstappen for first place?"

Y/N heard Hugh's heavy sigh, and if she knew Hugh, she knew the engineer was rubbing his beard, as he always did when he was nervous.

The season was still in its early stages, it was only the third race of the year and the rivalry between Max and Y/N had already reached a dangerous peak, they competed more with each other than with other drivers. Luckily for the team, both Max and Y/N managed to keep the competition alive both among themselves and with the other teams — even if the two always took their internal rivalry more seriously.

"The wear on the tires has not yet reached a precarious level, so you can compete, but you need to be careful, there may be rubber debris on the track," he advised, hearing her click her tongue in agreement, Hugh knew he was stirring the hunger of a beast, and for all intents and purposes, Max had the prey she wanted. "God help us," he muttered, closing the communication channel.

Y/N smiled at the free pass Hugh had given her, she shifted gears, hearing the engine roar loudly and she smiled, there was a DRS zone. She was a few seconds behind Max, three maybe four seconds and with the possibility of overtaking in front of her, Y/N did what her instincts told her: she opened the rear wing and put her foot down on the accelerator, breaking the distance between her and Max and consequently stealing first place from the Dutch driver. She not only passed Max, but managed to establish the four-second gap between them again, with herself in the lead. Her smile under her helmet was wide enough for her to feel pain in the cheeks.

The rest of the race was fast and intense, she and Max fought aggressively for first place, Y/N didn't let Max take advantage of any opening, she broke all chances of Max regaining first place. Not even with DRS active was Verstappen able to retake the lead.

As the two entered the last lap, Christian, Hugh and the entire Red Bull team began to think they would have an accident, because the two were, literally, playing cat and mouse.

"Keep it up, girl" Hugh suddenly appeared on the comms, making Y/N laugh "you're going to win your first F1 race, keep it up"

She laughed with victory, feeling as light as a balloon as her car passed the checkered flag in first place. Everyone in the garage heard her happy screams, when Y/N parked the car in the spot reserved for the winner, she could barely see because of her tears. The girl didn't even have time to take off her helmet before she was engulfed in the team's hug.

"You did it, girl!" Hugh lifted her into the air, celebrating the victory. It all went through her mind like a torpedo, but she remembers well when her country's anthem played, Y/N cried. She couldn't even explain how light she felt without the weight on her shoulders.Being the only woman among drivers in the top category of motorsport was heavier than she thought and winning was not a dream, it was an obligation.

She greeted the champagne shower as if it were a blessing, laughing as she doused the other riders. If it were possible, she would be exploding like fireworks.

Victory tasted sweet, and she got addicted.

After Melbourne, what was already tense got even worse. Y/N discovered what victory tasted like and Max wasn't about to let her taste it again. But what he didn't know was that his teammate was just as stubborn as he was and was willing to commit atrocities if it guaranteed her a podium finish — just like Max himself.

The races became increasingly fierce, the other teams instructed their drivers to stay away from the fight between Max and Y/N. The possibility of the two RBR drivers putting a third person in an accident was immense, and no one wanted to risk it.

"You" Christian pointed at S/N, watching the girl play with the zipper of her jumpsuit, as if she wasn't being reprimanded "don't tease, I know how much of a brat you can be when you want and you" he turned to Max "calm your nerves, you'll end up causing an accident, and no one here needs any more punishment"

The team leader scratched the back of his neck, all his efforts to convert the hatred between the two into anything but... Harmful, but nothing worked. Frustrated because neither of them seemed willing to give in, so if neither of them would make the first move, Christian would.

"You two are going to stay here until you sort it out, I don't care how, if you want to be treated like children, I will treat you like children" he scolded, putting his hands on his hips "You have plenty of time to sort things out and when you leave here, I expect you to respect each other, at the very least!"

Christian left the room, locking them in there, Y/N snorted, aware that Horner wasn't joking and the sound of the doorknob locking made that obvious. From her corner of the couch, she glanced sideways at Max, making a disgusted face, which he scoffed at.

"If we're here it's your fault" he said, pointing his finger in her direction, S/N frowned in confusion and stood up.

"My fault?! You're the idiot who thinks everyone has to give you back the position! Do you know how to lose a race without crying in the team's lap?!" She yelled back, stopping just a few steps away from him. Both of them radiated pure rage.

"I wouldn't need to ask for the positions back if you weren't a treacherous snake!"

"And you're a crybaby!" She said angrily and soon a wicked smile appeared on her face "You hate knowing that there's someone really competing with you, threatening your title"

Max scoffed, stepping away from her as he adjusted his hat. "As if you were enough competition to threaten me with, cutie."

“You wouldn’t be so mad if I wasn’t,” she retorted, balancing on his ankles, being petulant enough to prick Max’s short temper. “It’s okay to admit you’re afraid of me, Verstappen.”

“As if I would fear someone who still smells of milk”

Y/N laughed, leaning closer to him. “Should I be worried about your nose being so close to my neck?” He clicked his tongue again, increasing the level of mockery, making Max even more irritated.

“I would never get close to you, under any circumstances,” he replied, with nothing less than raw disgust in his voice and Y/N would never be able to explain why that was such a hard blow to her ego.

“As if you had any chance,” she said, composing herself with dignity.

“Anyway, fuck you, stay out of my way, girl,” he warned, pointing his index finger at her, “or I’ll throw you in the gravel.”

“Do that and I’ll be your worst nightmare, kid.”

The two went to opposite corners of the room, leaving the entire place filled with animosity. They remained in the office for almost two hours until the public relations manager took them out, scolding them because they were late for their interviews.

When Christian saw them leave the office, he couldn't tell if his attempts had yielded any results, but from the way they existed near each other, he was afraid. Whatever would come after this conversation, he had the entire team ready, whether it was for a fight or, maybe, the apocalypse.

Spielberg, 2023.

The Austrian GP was an important circuit for RBR and S/N was excited, she really wanted to win at the team's home ground, it would be an important victory and she wanted first place as much as she wanted oxygen, perhaps victory was more important.

Since Christian's intervention, instead of her and Max strengthening their rivalry, it seemed to increase, which was great for the fans, the races became more exciting and fun to watch, but for the team, the atmosphere was unbearable. The fear of an accident between the two happening was real and increasingly possible; and the race at Red Bull Ring gave an extra weight to the competitiveness of the RBR drivers,

"Keep your head cool, girl." Hugh ruffled her hair as Y/N sat in the cockpit, reading the information on the monitor. "Do your race, stay calm and everything will be fine, you have a good score in the drivers' championship, don't let your problems with Max get in the way of the race, It's important for the team"

"Relax Hugh, we'll win the race and increase the points gap with the second team"

"You're in second, so try to preserve your tires until the pitstop, our strategy will come into play after the first stop, understand?"

"Yep Hugh, I understand."

"In other words, no pointless fights with Max." He said, giving her a stern look, Y/N giggled and held up her crossed fingers. "Y/N..."

"I'll try, I promise"

The minutes until the start of the race were spent fine-tuning the details of the strategy, meditating and listening to encouragement from the family. And as always, the moments until she positioned herself on the grid passed as if she were on autopilot, without realizing where she was or what she was doing until her engines roared. It wasn't until the lights came on that Y/N blinked back to the real world and she smiled, gripping the sides of the steering wheel. She glanced quickly in the rearview mirror, seeing her purple helmet gleam in the faint light of the weak sun. The forecast was for rain for the second half of the circuit, which made her anxious, she loved racing in the rain just like one of her greatest examples in motorsport, Ayrton Senna.

When the lights went out, she let her instincts take over and her focus was on one thing, the highest place on the podium.

In the second half of the race, the rain fell like a torrent, nothing that S/N wasn't used to and with this new obstacle, she held on, trying to have a safe race, even though he was still competing for victory with his teammate. She stepped on the brakes several times, trying to avoid any collision and as they were entering the forty-fifth lap, exactly at the Schlossgold Curve, in a fierce dispute with Max, where she tried to overtake him when a collision with the two front wings made S/N spin on the track until she was pushed against the barrier. The shock was strong enough to make her hit her head against the steering wheel; S/N was disoriented for a few seconds and shook her head, but the act made her grunt in pain and hearing Hugh's desperate calls in the dot in her ear only made her more nervous. She didn't even know when she was pulled out of the cockpit or when she was taken to the circuit hospital, but she knew exactly the moment the rage exploded in her chest.

Max threw her off the track, in a dirty move, Max took her out of the race.

"I'm going to kill him," she said as the nurse bandaged her forehead. The poor nurse gave S/N's companion a frightened look, who signaled for her to ignore it. "He threw me off the track, mom, I hit the barrier!"

"Honey, don't worry about it, you're fine, luckily the accident wasn't more serious" she tried to calm her daughter down and asked the nurse to leave, which she did in a hurry.

The driver's time in the hospital was spent hurling abuse and homicidal thoughts at Max Verstappen. So it was no surprise when she arrived at the Red Bull garage screaming and swearing. She shook off Hugh's grip on her, marched straight to Max, and pressed her finger against his chest.

"You scream that I'm a treacherous snake, but you're the most dishonest son of a bitch that ever walked this fucking earth!" She yelled, seeing Max's eyes widen until he understood what was happening.

"What? Did you really think I was going to give you my position? Wake up girl."

"Are you an idiot? That was a clean maneuver, I didn't attack you to get thrown off the fucking track"

"You wouldn't have gone off the track if you were a good driver, or an honest one" Jos Verstappen interjected into the conversation, pulling Max away from it.

"Maybe it's time for you to rethink your career, this profession isn't for everyone, including cute and delicate little things like you" Max said, and that made something burn deep inside her before it completely faded away.

She licked her lips and pulled away, playing with the zipper of her jumpsuit, a habit she did whenever she was nervous, she took a deep breath and said "You know what? Fuck it, from today you died to me"

And with that, Y/N retreated to her room, feeling her whole body tremble, since she was four years old, she never questioned herself, She always knew that she would race in F1. This was always a certainty in her life and she had the unconditional support of her parents; thinking about anything else for her life never crossed her mind, Y/N knew she would be the first girl in the highest category of motorsport.

However, being discredited in that way, especially after an accident, shook her convictions.

And for the first time in many years, she cried in fear that she would not be able to do it anymore.

São Paulo, 2023

After Spielberg, things in the RBR pit changed drastically, Y/N didn't just avoid Max, she literally pretended he didn't exist, of course the Dutchman didn't take it seriously in the first few weeks, he thought Y/N was just making a fuss to get attention, but he realized things were serious when Hugh started relaying her decisions to him. Of course, the PR team did best to keep things away from the general public, It was necessary for the pilots to maintain good relations, even if just a little, for the good of the team.

She did what she promised and it was as if Max didn't even exist.

And shit, that really bothered Max, because Y/N looked past him, she never spoke to him again, she never stayed in the same place as him again, even the races had changed, Y/N hadn't lost the will to win, but something had really lost its essence.

It was Saturday, almost eleven o'clock at night when Max's discomfort about Y/N became unbearable.

He didn't know why, but it was boring, really bad not having someone to fight with, to make things more exciting. There was a piece missing and he knew where it was.

Y/N was the karma in his life, to torment him, to make his life hell, but fuck it, Y/N was still his karma and he would deal with her.

He put on his slippers and got the room key, he didn't need to ask, he knew which room she was staying in, Max crossed the hotel like a caged lion that had found freedom and it was with all that frantic energy that he almost broke down the door to her room.

Max hoped that this would get some reaction from his teammate, but Y/N opened the door and remained silent, looking at him standing in the hallway.

"You can't fucking ignore me forever!" He yelled, expecting her to retaliate, but Y/N just prepared to close the door, but Max stopped her. "Talk to me, damn it."

"Well, what do you want me to say?" She said, too calm, too soft, and Max didn't like it.

"Fight, scream, do anything, but don't ignore me"

She reached out, checking her cuticles, a clear sign of disinterest that increased Max's disgust, she couldn't act like that.

"I can't ignore what's dead to me," she said dryly, "was that all?"

Max swallowed the lump in his throat, her indifference made him uncomfortable in his own skin, it was impossible to deal with it calmly. He took a deep breath, letting the act clear his mind, he let all his arrogance and pride fall away and allowed himself to be vulnerable; Max admitted to himself that he missed her, Y/N was a constant in his life, chaotic, disturbing and restless, but a constant, he knew she would be there to stick his ass in the races, to take everything he had and without it, things would get monotonous.

But still, he wanted a reaction, he wanted the white-hot, overwhelming anger that was always in her.

"Yes! I want you to stop ignoring me, acting like I'm nothing in front of you."

"I don't care what you want, Verstappen," she said, crossing her arms. "I couldn't care less about your desires."

"You think that makes you better than me? You're always saying how arrogant I am and what do you think that swagger is? Niceness?"

Y/N gave an exhausted sigh and pulled Max into her room, because in a little while longer, he would be causing a ruckus in the hallway.

"Why is this important to you, Verstappen? Unfortunately for you and your father I didn't change careers, but to your delight, as your father once said...?" she paused, resting her index finger on her lips as she pretended to think, "Oh yes, a hindrance to your brilliant career."

"And you gave in? Did you accept it so easily?!" He exclaimed and she pressed her temples, already exhausted from that conversation, feeling her patience drain away very quickly.

"Do you have some personality problem? You have to! Why the hell are you so bothered by this, damn it?!" She finally screamed, stressed out by the whole thing.

"I don't like it! I hate that you're distant, damn it!" He took over, making her posture break, Y/N looked at him in surprise, what was Max talking about?"

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"I hate you, I hate the fact that you are hard-working and intelligent, that you work on your strategies, the way you drive, the way you laugh" he spoke quickly, not giving her a chance to respond "I hate how you fill every space with your presence, I hate how nice you are to Charles, how you idolize Hamilton, I hate you for flirting with Lando because..."

Y/N's eyes were wide as she watched Max's monologue in his suite.

In return, Max found his breath — and the courage to finish what he had started, because hell, Y/N was more challenging than any race he had faced.

"Because I get jealous, I hate that they have your attention, I hate that they have any part of you while I have nothing"

Y/N rested her hands on her hips, absorbing Max's confession, God knows she never expected to hear that, not even in that circumstance.

"Fuck, that's something," she said, wanting to break the silence, seeing Max twist his fingers in pure nervousness. But nothing more was said for long minutes until she looked him in the eyes, peering into whatever he was trying to keep hidden. "Have you ever thought about talking about this in therapy?"

Max gasped, this was fucking not what he was expecting.

"Well, damn, that caught me off guard, you know?" She said, sitting on the bed. "That doesn't justify your shitty behavior towards me this whole year."

"I know, but you were a bitch to me too."

"And I ignored you"

"And I hated that shit, keep being a bitch to me, it's better than being treated like nothing"

"You deserved every second, you still do"

Max sat next to her, both of them staring at the huge black and white photograph of the capital of São Paulo.

"I'm sorry, you're a great driver, I never meant to make you doubt your potential and the sport would be a lot more boring without you in my rear view mirror" he said sincerely "You make a difference in racing and I wouldn't forgive myself if I ruined that... None of what I said was true, it was a bit of spite"

"You need to work on being forgiven... And if your father talks to me like that again, I'll throw my helmet at him."

"Okay, fair enough."

"And you need to learn to declare yourself, that was completely unromantic"

"Was that all you paid attention to?"

"And you're judging me for that?"

"Obviously, because I opened my heart here, "go fuck yourself, damn it"

"Why don't you come do it, you coward"

Before the two could process what was happening, Max and S/N were kissing, rolling around on the mattress. Grunts and curses were uttered in a confused manner and before long, the clothes were scattered around the suite and before long, the girl was riding the Dutchman, moaning insults as he bit her breasts and neck, leaving fingerprints on her hips, her thighs and ass. He swore in Dutch — and it made Y/N clench around him.

Maybe it was the euphoria, or the repressed feelings that led them both to orgasm in a violent way.

"Fuck," they said together.

The sky above her was so blue and bright it hurt to look at and behind her, Max was on her tail, nudging for any chance to retake the lead of the pack, but Y/N increased the gap, from four seconds to six. She knew he was cursing and that it would be harder to close the gap between them.

The fans screamed, fired up by the competition for first place, suddenly that fight, the anger had arisen again, making things interesting again.

"One more quarter of a lap and you'll win the race, firecracker." Hugh said into the headset, making Y/N laugh in excitement. "Things are in place again, that is great"

"I know you missed me, I missed you too," she admitted, changing gears at once, making the engine roar. "I love my job."

The podium featured Red Bull Racing twice and the last time anyone saw such a bright smile on S/N's face was in Melbourne, months before.

"You should make it easier sometimes" he said as they both waited for her anthem to start, Y/N giggled.

"As if you liked that," he retorted ironically and Max shrugged, yeah, he didn't.

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.

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[14dayswithyou]

I don't know if I was able to send my other question, ignore this, but what day was that? I was very surprised when Teo asked Elanor on a double date with Angel and Leon, omg, why? Wasn't he the one who wasn't interested in romantic relationships? That was very suspicious, and why the hell did she accept it, even though Teo was flirting with his sister in a straight face, leaving her as a second option? It was also very strange of him when we spoke on the phone and he even said that we didn't seem jealous, I obviously wanted answers, but he cut the call. I remembered an old post of yours, saying that Teo liked to make people he was interested in jealous, was that his purpose? I definitely don't know!!! And because Ren wanted Angel to agree to go on this date, wouldn't it be more advantageous for him if we rejected it? I don't understand anything anymore! This man is very strange to me, he's up to no good, it's bizarre how he managed to cut off all the people we chose to talk to at the end of the day, it seems kind of obvious that it was his doing. I think I ended up talking too much, I'm loving the progress of your game, I'm really looking forward to what's to come and please get rid of the mouse problem 😭

✦゜ANSWERED: AAAAA I may be misunderstanding this, but did you send another question? If so, I don't think I received it ^^; Feel free to send it again though!

Day 3 spoilers under the cut!! Click "read more" if you don't mind that.

Why did Teo ask for a double date? You have to keep in mind that everything Teo does is for his own enjoyment. He likes to mess around and live a hedonistic lifestyle, and he thrives off of receiving attention from others. To him, this date is just a bit of harmless fun and a way to pass the time.

Why did Teo flirt with Elanor specifically? She was the only one who responded positively to his flirtations — and seemed genuinely interested in him.

Why did Teo want Angel to be jealous? Again, he's just trying to "mess" with people and have a bit of fun. There's also a small sliver of him wanting some sort of reaction out of Angel — since most of the time — they're pretty dismissive of him.

Why did Ren want Angel to go on the double date? Two reasons! The first is that the 14DWY storyline is (ultimately) very linear and the only way to progress is by following along with the main plot. Secondly, I wanted to showcase Ren's... "abilities" a bit more; by subtly hinting that he's able to manipulate the game — and to give a bit more "Dead End" lore!

It definitely would be more advantageous for Ren if you declined the double date, but then there wouldn't be much of a story afterwards ^^; Angel would go home, and Day 4 would just be them hanging out in their apartment while Ren watches from the cameras. Not much fun to write or read about hghdsjgjs

I hope this makes sense!!

[slafkovskys]

When Luke is about to get back with angel and all that he gets into a accident and No one tells angel and she needs up being so mad and driving to the hospital

warnings: mentions of hospitals/emergency rooms, injuries, accidents, and angst

the lady behind the desk looks bored as she approaches, but her eyebrows raise when she spots her protruding bump and the worried expression on her face. she straightens up in her chair, “how can i help you, honey?”

“i’m here to visit someone,” she clears her throat, “luke hughes, if he can have visitors.”

the woman, barbara as her name tag reads, lets her face fall as she places her hand over her mouse, “i think he’s already got a visitor, honey, but let me double check for you. name?”

she repeats her name and lets her eyes drift around the waiting room. for it to be almost midnight on a saturday night, she was surprised to find the place nearly empty. a couple coughs sound and a few grunts follow, but it’s barbara tapping her nails on the glass in front of her that get her attention again. she sends an apologetic grin, “sorry.”

“that door’s gonna make a clicking noise and when you hear that, you can go on through. he’ll be in room two,” she points to a door immediately to her left and the younger girl thanks her before stepping to the side, “next!”

she hears the click and pulls on the handle, stepping into the busy emergency room. she finds room two around a few corners and timidly knocks on the wall. she swallows a lump in her throat as a raspy voice calls out, “come in.”

she lets a beat pass, then two, before she pulls the curtain to the side and for the first time in months, she’s face to face with him. he looks different. besides the shocked expression that takes over his features, his eyes are sunken in like he hadn’t slept in days. maybe even weeks.

she takes note of his leg being elevated and wrapped in some kind of gauze as she lets the curtain fall back in place behind her. now, they were alone. he opens his mouth, closes it, then it opens it again, “it’s really you.”

“yeah, luke. it’s really me,” she adjusts her bag on her shoulder and crosses her arms over her chest, staring at the boy, “what happened?”

“i- i was being stupid. duker and i were wrestling on top of a pong table and i slipped. tried to catch myself, but landed wrong on my foot.”

she nods, “you’re going to be out for a while, then?”

“four week minimum depending on healing. i’ll be on bedrest for a few days they said, but no surgery,” he sends her a soft smile and she hums, mouth still set in a hard line. he tries not to look at her midsection and the way it was protruding against the waistband of the team issued michigan sweatpants she was wearing. he could’ve sworn they were his almost as much as he could’ve sworn that there was no way that she was only five months along. he sees the two bands on her finger and she must catch him staring because she quickly hides her hand with other arm. he holds his tongue and instead of spitting something about how he already knew about what his brothers had asked, he instead utters, “did duker tell you that i was here?”

“your mom texted jack. he was taking a shower, but we had been looking at things on his computer for the new house-” she sees his mouth twitch and she truly hopes that she wasn’t one who had just informally given him an eviction notice while he was in the hospital, “and i saw the notification come through. i just wanted to make sure that you were okay and you are so-”

“you’re not staying,” his voice cracks and she shakes her head, “angel, please-”

“i saw yasmin’s car out front, luke. i don’t think you need me here.”