#I purposefully make things I don't know how to do (yet)

[nothingbutferal]

TW: Hot take

I think to have a good OC x Canon character ship you need to ask yourself three things.

Does it make sense for Canon to even have a partner or love interest in the first place

Does OC have personality, relationships, and a storyline outside of being Canon's SO

Does their relationship develop naturally or is it forced for the sake of being self indulgent

Now you don't need any of this shit, but if your goal is to create content of the pairing that other people will like then I'd say this is mandatory.

Like yes sometimes a man simply needs a wife *cough* Fuegoleon. Or yes maybe a partner would fix them. And yes we want to see the characters we all love be happy with somebody they love.

But does a fourteen year old ninja turtle really need to have a sexy self insert cat furry flirting with them? No.

Another important thing to remember from an outside perspective is that most of the time artists and writers are not drawing and writing to appeal to you! This is for them! You don't have to like it, because they do!

And if they do want you to like it then it's completely understandable to be reluctant because a character is often significant to people the same way a sibling/parent/lover/child is. It's difficult to witness someone you hold close be in a relationship you don't approve of them being in or with someone you know nothing about. Which is why establishing OC's story and character is important before they get frisky with one of our beloved Canon's.

I think a lot of people just say its, "Cringe" and get defensive because they don't think about why they feel uncomfortable. In reality like yeah, it is difficult to feel like you're being forced into, "giving away" someone dear to you to a complete stranger. You wouldn't hand your daughter off to someone you don't know, no matter how ombre their hair is.

I can understand both sides, making an OC x Canon pairing is fun, it makes you feel nice to draw/write their relationship together and feel you've contributed in a way to a part of Canon's life. However as a viewer you for sure narrow your eyes and go, "What are your intentions with my scrimblo...?" and I think that's completely understandable.

Fandoms have always had difficulty sharing and agreeing upon things in certain aspects. But we all want what's best for the characters that our benevolent creators have chosen share with us. (For the most part, we're not getting into purposefully toxic OC x Canon today) We don't own them, they're not ours, we can't choose what our fandommates do with them. But we can be respectful and hope for the best, because this is the internet and shit happens.

We only cringe at what we do not yet understand 👍

[OC X CANON APPRECIATION POST! 🩷✨]

REBLOG IF YOU LOVE AND SUPPORT OC X CANON!!

[on1knee4marksmen]

Gala Glamour

Patch x fem! reader drabble

Quick little drabble because I saw this post and I burst out laughing

I fear this cannot be read as platonic💔 (but knowing myself I'll probably write a platonic fic with the gala experience in the future)

Reader being madly in love and thirsting as a whole lol. Just a tad bit suggestive (?) but it's for the giggles, nothing serious!! So sfw :)

Fem presenting reader

Envisioning Marvel Rivals Logan, specifically his Patch skin >:)

Tonight is the night. The one night a year where you get to fully immerse yourself and stop worrying. Fully take in the flashing lights, the official, fancy setting you seldom get to enjoy. To try to grow used to the cameras, the many people. To see old friends and form new connections. To eat and drink, dance and laugh. To have a good time.

The Hellfire Gala.

Now, usually, you weren't ecstatic about big social events - you'd much rather go somewhere with a small group of friends. But today? Oh, today, you were practically vibrating with excitement.

You didn't get to doll yourself up much anymore - with the constant missions you were on, plus the eventual "babysitting" of the students, you didn't have much time for yourself. Hence why you were going all out for tonight.

...Hence why you were running a liiiitle late.

Your couldn't help it - from an everything shower, to consultations with Storm about jewelry that goes with your dress, to doing heatless curls, to makeup, to packing a bag - you got caught up a bit. And you were still at the makeup part...

...You were still at the makeup part when you felt your phone buzz beside you on the table. When you looked down, you saw something that didn't happen often - Logan was texting you.

Now, Logan didn't really... well, go hand-to-hand with new technology. So you were more used to him calling you.

...But you were for sure intrigued when you saw the notification:

- New messages (2): -----------------------

Lo<3

where ya at with the prep darlin?? you ready soon?

1 attachment "which bowtie matches your dress better"

------------------------------------------------

Awww,he was purposefully matching his bowtie with your dress?? You might've just fallen even deeper in love with him at that very moment. With a warmth in your chest and a smile on your face, you hit the notification to see the attachment - presumably a picture of said bowties.

...

It was not a picture of only the bowties.

What you saw when you opened the attachment made your heart stop beating and your jaw drop. Logan. Your Logan. The same Logan that owns one pair of jeans and a thousand different wife pleasers and flannels. In a suit.

A mirror pic of your man in a white suit, looking like it was made for him with the way it defines his body and features, with black dress pants, with his hair tidied and slicked back just a little, yet keeping its iconic shape and kind of scruffy vibe. With one eye covered with an eye patch, the other looking down at his reflection in a focused, almost intense way, - that makes you bite your lip - with one hand holding the phone horizontally, in an awkward position, trying to catch everything in the photo, and with the other hand holding two bowties up to his neck. Both in shades of the colour of your dress?

...

And you're expected to react civilly to that??

You don't realise how much time you've taken to just... stare and gawk in awe at that one singular picture, until you see a new message pop up:

Lo<3: darlin?

Next thing you know, you've forgotten any makeup brush and any contour that needs fixing - you're hastily grabbing your phone to text back:

You: Hold on hun, I'm almost there

Lo<3 is typing...

You: And I don't mean at your doorstep ;)

[jaysgirlx]

"Need help sweetheart?" Bookstore Customer!Jason Todd helps you reach the books on the higher shelves. You were his favorite employee and he wanted to make your day easier. He'd been coming here for a while but you always forgot how tall he was and how good his body felt pressed against yours. You only knew how to mumble out a couple words because you didn't know what else to say to a man like that. "Uh sir, you don't need to-"

"Please call me anything but sir sweetheart, you know I'm not new here"

Bookstore Customer!Jason enjoyed teasing his favorite employee aka you of course. He teases you about working at the bookstore even though he's constantly there and he'll always be flirting with you even if you're working the counter that day. He knows he's holding up the line but he's a paying customer so he doesn't care.

"How's my favorite pretty girl doing?"

"M'tired today Jay, I can't handle your nonsense right now"

"Okay that was mean- wait, Jay? that's a first"

"Buy a book or get out Jason"

You could easily tell Jason liked classics and poetry but for some reason he was willing to read your favorites even if they were a smut-filled mess. One time, he backed you up into a corner, after reading one of those books you liked, "Hmm, you like this kind of shit baby? cause I can do all that to you and so much more"

Over time, you learned that Jason also likes to follow you to the store, whispering to you about all the things he could do to you if you'd let him. His hand is always on your hips, pressing his body fully into you. He knows you like it especially when you roll your hips into his when nobody's looking. He wishes you'd use your words and just say you were his but he knew he wasn't even close to getting that, at least not yet.

Jason tried to buy a new book every week, sometimes not even to read. He needed an excuse to be there since your boss has never been fond of him ever since he had caught him feeling you up near the back shelves once. He learned his lesso so now he purposefully buys the books you like, just so he can watch you ramble on and on about them without getting kicked out of the store.

Bookstore Customer!Jason thrived on the feeling he got from watching you go from being so nonchalant around him to the most talkative girl in the world. he wants you comfortable if he's going to fuck you. You find yourself shutting up one time because you thought you had bored him but he quickly gets rid of that thought for you, "Keep talking sweetheart, I'm just wondering how pretty your mouth would look with my cock stuffed down your throat"

"Jay I don't- I can't- I haven't-"

"Don't worry, you will and I'm sure you're a fast learner"

It wasn't that hard for you to notice that Jason got a little jealous when his brother Dick hits on you the first and last time he brings him to the bookstore. Dick easily chats you up and Jason watches the two become a bit too friendly for his liking but it wasn't his place to speak, "Now I see why my little brother brings home so many books"

"It's good he does, I like guys who read"

"I actually quite the fan of classic literature-"

"Oh shut up Dick"

Bookstore Customer!Jason had all your coworkers wondering if you'll ever let the poor guy hit. They weren't sure if Jason was interested in you or your body, regardless they couldn't ignore the smile you got whenever he walk in. Or the way you'd laugh at his dumb jokes. You had him on a leash and you didn't even know what to do with him. He's begging to take you out or just even spent a night with you. He didn't just want you, he needed you. "C'mon I promise to take care of you princess, I'll even take you to that little coffee shop in Bludhaven"

"Who told you about that?!"

"…Dick"

When he finally manages to convince you to let him kiss you, you're nervous as fuck. You thought this was just another one of his antics but no, this was real. He'd promised to stop hitting on you if you felt nothing and you should've know it was bad idea when you could hear your own heartbeat still your let his lips touch yours. It was such a bad idea because before you knew it, he's got you pushed up against the wall, leg parting your thighs with your hands gripping at his shirt. "Jay, more please" Suddenly after all this time, you're pleading for him. Oh how the tables have turned. You're begging for all he's got, and you know he has so much more to give.

"Just give me a moment baby, got be patient" Within a matter of minutes your pants are discarded on the floor, and your panties are still on but being pushed aside while two fingers are being pumped in and out of your pussy. He's got one hand on your hips holding you down while one of your legs is wrapped around his waist. "Didn't I tell you I could do some much for you baby?"

You nod quickly while he's sucking on your poor neck, that would definitely be red all tomorrow. you feel his teeth sink into your skin, not too hard but rough enough to leave a mark. "Now keep quiet, I don't want any of your coworkers hearing us back here" The next thing you know you're cumming on the boy's fingers and he wants you to do it again. and again. and possibly 50 more times if you're willing.

The next time Jason comes, he's holding what you think is flowers and you know he'll be your victim today.

"So I thought real flowers would be cheesy and you'd probably not want to take care of em, so my brothers taught me how to make these paper flowers and…here just take them"

"Wow, I'm getting hand-crafted flowers from THE Jason Todd? Someone must have a really big crush on me huh? Are those bandaids on your fingers? Want me to kiss your boo-boos? "

"Are you going to finally go out with me or do I have to make you cum-"

"Yes yes! Just do not finish that sentence out loud"

"You are soooooooooo in love me"

"Jay, get out"

[dontbesoweirdkira]

A/N: Never cared about superman until this new trailer came out. I'm a Clark girlie now. It's shame there's not many Yan!superfamily content out there. I plan to write more but I figured i'd get some thoughts out there.

Warnings: DeadDoveDon'tEat| Forced family, yandere themes, kidnapping, manipulation ect..

Living with Yan!superfam would be the most terrifying experience in the whole wide world. Yes, Clark Kent is such a sweetheart. Truly the embodiment of a "gentle giant", there's not a man on earth whose kinder...but there's also not one who is stronger.

How frightening would it be to innocently deny your father of bonding time and hear him say---

"I didn't quite hear you. Could you repeat yourself, Honey?"

---and you turn around to face this six and a half foot brooding man who is towering over you with a sickeningly sweet smile....

You and I both know he heard you loud and clearly, he can hear someone laugh half way across the world. Papa Clark just wanted to see if you really had the audacity to repeat yourself.

OH and the fact he has telepathy? Clark has sworn on his life that he'd never use those abilities on anyone outside of criminals, let alone his precious family but there's times where it feels there's something rummaging through you brain.. picking at every little part.

--and it always seems to happen late at night, when everyone is supposedly sleeping.

Speaking of his telepathy powers, could you imagine him erasing parts of your memories? One time while he was holding you in his arms, all you could think about was your past...your real parents and siblings...how you wished his arms were theirs...

Clark's jealousy would overwhelm him and next thing you know you can't even remember much about them at all...

Or fantasizing about escaping while at dinner and having your train of thought ripped right from you as he silently watches you from across the table.. You know that there's something wrong but you can't quite place it and he finally speaks up

"Everything alright, sweetheart? You look a little disgruntled."

One thing Clark does is swoop you into his arms without much warning and flies. That seems like so much fun but you hate them. Rightfully so. Intentional or not, it's a reminder how helpless you truly are when in a blink of an eye you're thousands of feet up in the air . He'd never drop his precious daughter, but you don't know that. Not when he just levitates there, looking at you with a sickness in his eyes..mind racing and heart pounding. He loves you so much, what would he ever do if he lost his only girl.

Clark constantly pushes to be close to you and to be the perfect father. It's so surreal waking up in a "perfect" cookie cutter family. It's as if you were in some 1950's film about a nuclear family, everything feels like it's taken right from a script.

It really reminds you that they are aliens trying their hardest to conform to a human way of life. You feel bad for being so reclusive when it's clear that your Father wants your life to be perfect, but you can't shake the fear you have for them.

You would almost feel bad if they didn't kidnap you or could snap your spine with a single finger...

Oh don't get me started on your little brother Jon. He's just like his dad. Loving and full of sugar, until you do something to shatter the image of their perfect family.

You rejected playing with him and suddenly he's *literally* dragging you into his room to play Legos. Or you told him that he's "not really your brother and that you have a real family somewhere else." and He's blowing out your eardrums during a tantrum..

*never make Jon scream and cry, noted.*

Oh one time he threw an emotional fit so hard that he almost shot a Laser beam at you. He genuinely didn't mean to, he would never purposefully put your life in danger but he's still not in full control of his powers yet. Very blessed that Clark was there that day to settle things.

Yeah. The boy frequently forgets just how fragile you are. Clark is able to control himself in order to protect you and everyone else but Jon struggles so much. Accidental bruises and broken bones are a frequent thing in this household, much to Clark's dismay.

He can scold his son all day but when he sees his sister waiting for him to get off the school bus, he can't help but throw himself into her. Maybe its the pulling, grabbing, and yanking her a little too harshly out of excitement is the root cause.

He's always wanting to show of his powers in order to make you think he's cool and deserving of your love..

Lois is completely bliss to everything that's going on. She seems to be rather confused why you're taking so long to adjust but honestly I think Clark has her mentally wiped.

What if he only kidnapped you because he desperately wanted a daughter. Like Papa Clark gives off "girl dad" vibes but Lois couldn't have another. When he saw you, oh you were so perfect. He didn't care if you looked like him or not, you were his baby girl. You were perfect for this family.

[taeyongdoyoung]

chase and attract

summary: your best friend decides to fulfil yet another one of your freaky shared fantasies... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: cnc/primal play, chasing in a forest, public indecency but there are no witnesses, fingering, finger-sucking, doggystyle, unprotected sex, praise, degradation, reader wants to use the safeword but doesn't, reader experiences subdrop, insecurities, crying, aftercare, pet names, the word daddy is mentioned but after they're done having sex, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: hello hello, this is the second part of my wolf & bunny series, i think i'll write one more to tie up the loose ends 🤍 part one & part three word count: 1.7k

After a number of discussions and precautions, you and Chan are finally ready to embark on your next sexscapade. He's reassured you multiple times that he knows the forest well enough that you won't get lost and as a safety measure, he brought a compass and his phone. You purposefully leave yours in his car to further heighten the feeling of danger you two had in mind.

“Are you ready?” Chan asks you gently.

“Kinda. I'm really nervous, Chris,” you confess, your hands shaking in your lap as you are still sitting in the passenger seat.

“Remember that you can stop this at any moment, right?” he reminds you sweetly.

“I know that,” you sigh. “But I want this, I really do.”

“Okay, then, there's nothing to be nervous about. You know I'll keep you safe. Always, yeah?”

You nod, trusting him completely, despite how insane this whole thing might sound to a stranger. You are fully aware that Chan has your best interest at heart.

“I'll give you a five-minute headstart this time,” he sets the timer on his phone. “Ready, set...go!”

You dash out of his car faster than ever and speed through the forest. You've got this. Last time your stupid legs gave out due to being in a box for too long but now you've trained for this moment for a week and you feel confident enough that you'll have a blast. Sure, you know that the point of this game is for Chan to eventually catch you. And boy, do you look forward to that moment. But the more you run, the more your heart will jump out, the more thrilled you feel.

You begin to lose track of time as you go deeper and deeper into the forest. Have five minutes already passed? You don't hear Chan's footsteps so either he hasn't started chasing you yet or he's going in another direction. Whatever the explanation, you keep running even though you're beginning to lose your breath. How much longer? You still don't hear him and you are in desperate need of a break. You should have brought a bottle of water. But carrying something like that would only slow you down. You're thinking too much again. You just want him to catch you already and fuck you until you can no longer think. Truly the best feeling in the world.

Finally, you hear leaves rustling. You don't hear his voice but you know he's getting near. Shit, what if it's someone else? No, that can't be it. Chan made sure that people rarely walk this path and it would only be the two of you. Still, you're terrified at the thought of someone other than Chan catching you. The mere suggestion of that is enough to send speed to your muscles and make you faster.

But all good things must come to an end (or maybe the good things are just about to begin...) and you are engulfed by a pair of strong arms. Before you can react or try to fight your attacker off, he's pressing his hand against your mouth.

“Shhh, don't scream,” Chan's voice is both a comfort and a threat, sending mixed signals to your core.

“Mmpf,” you struggle to make some kind of noise but it comes out muffled against his rough hand.

“This will all be easier if you don’t fight it,” Chan says soothingly and you shake your head in disagreement.

He momentarily removes his hand from your lip.

“Please, somebody help me!” you scream loud enough to paint the scene more vividly but not loud enough to actually attract attention in case a stranger passes by some forest. Which honestly seems impossible at this point. Chan really picked a very secluded trail.

“No one’s gonna hear you, sweetheart. And even if they did, do you think they’d help you? Silly little bun, you brought this on yourself walking in the forest all alone, wearing this dress…”

Fuck, why is he so good at this? You try not to wonder if he’s had prior experience with such a scenario or he simply just has great imagination to come up with such lines.

“Please, don’t do this,” you pretend to be afraid as your best friend pushes you on your knees and situates himself behind you. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Why not? I’ll fuck you so good you’ll want to brag about it,” Chan chuckles coldly and sticks his thick fingers inside your pussy unexpectedly.

“Nnghh,” you cry out and are beginning to lose energy of all the running and no longer feel like faking it, letting out moans and whimpers of pleasure.

“See? You’re all wet for me, so obviously you’re enjoying it,” Chan gathers the evidence of your satisfaction with his fingers and pushes them into your mouth.

You don’t need an order to know what to do as you lick them clean of your arousal.

“Fuuuck, good girl,” Chan praises you and briefly breaks character, stroking your hair gently.

Oh, shit. You think you’re falling for your best friend. But such thoughts will only bring complications, especially in the current context, so you push them down as much as you can.

Chan makes sure you’re wet enough by mercilessly stroking your pussy and finally, fuck, sweet finally, enters you from behind with his cock.

“N-no, d-don’t do this,” you scream and try to escape his strong grasp but of course, it’s no use.

“Such a useless slut, only good for fucking and nothing more.”

The degrading words sting but you’re trying not to dwell on it too much.

“So fucking wet for a stranger. Disgusting,” he says.

Fuck, this hurts. Not the cock stretching you out to the fullest but what he’s saying. Is it really true?

You want to say the safeword. But you also don’t. By the time you make up your mind, Chan has already painted your walls white and you are also coming with a shudder, loudly and devastatingly.

You feel broken. Bad broken. You want to go home and cry and sleep and eat ice cream. What went wrong? You were having such a great time. So why are you suddenly having such dark thoughts? And not dark in the sexy way…

Chan picks you up gently and checks up on you.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, I just want to go home,” you respond briefly.

He nods, quietly wondering if he did something wrong or if he’s just imagining the sad, empty look in your pretty eyes.

Chan helps you walk back to his car and makes sure you drink water and cleans you up to the best of his abilities with some tissues he prepared in advance.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again as he parks the car in front of you place. “You haven’t said a word during the whole ride. Usually you have funny stories to share and…”

“Gee, sorry for not always being the class clown, I guess,” you snap at him angrily with an eyeroll.

“Okay, don’t give me that attitude,” Chan scolds you gently but firmly. “If we want to do this healthily, you gotta communicate with me. If I did something wrong or if you felt uncomfortable at any point.”

You shake your head, still in denial.

“If you don’t wanna talk, I won’t force you. But you gotta remember that you mean the world to me, yeah? Even if these games end, I need to have my best friend in my life, am I clear?”

You blink and finally gather the courage to look at him.

“I’m sorry, Chris,” you admit and burst into tears.

He pulls you into a hug and pats your back.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Well, the truth is I wasn’t all that into it when you said that thing about me being useless, only good for fucking and disgusting,” you confess.

“Oh, babygirl, you know I don’t mean these things. I only said them ‘cause you mentioned you’re into degradation.”

“I was, I mean, I am, but for some reason, it really hurt me this time, sorry. I should have said. I just don’t want you to think poorly of me.”

“Alright, first of all, stop saying sorry, it’s completely normal to get caught up in it and feel insecure sometimes. As a dom, I should have been more careful and checked up on you more frequently. And second of all, please, remember that you are very smart, sweet, funny and not to mention incredibly beautiful so there is no way in hell I think lowly of you. Now, did you put that down in your pretty brain of yours?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer enthusiastically and your tears have dried up, instead a bright smile appears on your face. “Thanks for saying that. I guess I really needed to hear it.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Just next time if you happen feel like that, say the safeword and talk to me. About anything, I mean it.”

“You too, Chris. I know that’s particularly hard for you to open up but whatever you tell me, I would never judge you.”

“I know, babygirl,” Chan chuckles softly and does something that further confuses the already blurred lines of your friendship. He kisses you on the lips, deeply and sweetly. Not like how you kiss your best friend but how you kiss a lover.

“Do you want…to come inside?” you offer, not knowing what exactly, considering you just ended a very overwhelming scene.

Actually, you know what you want. You want him to hold you, to watch a dumb movie and eat popcorn together. You want…more than you can have.

“I gotta get some work done,” Chan says with a wince. “I’m really behind on stuff.”

“Is it…my fault?”

“No way. I just can’t stop thinking of…our games even when I’m supposed to be working,” he admits.

Phew. You’re glad he didn’t say he can’t stop thinking of you. If he had, you wouldn’t be able to let him go to work.

“Right. Same here,” you reply dumbly.

“If you need anything and I mean, anything, just give me a call or a text. I’ll keep my phone nearby.”

“You really shouldn’t, I’ll keep annoying you,” you mumble self-consciously.

Chan grips your hand and squeezes it comfortingly.

“You could never annoy me, okay?”

“Okay, daddy,” you say it playfully, eliciting a giggle out of his beautiful mouth.

“Do you have any particular wishes for…you know, next time?”

“I do, but it’s kinda mild compared to what we’ve done already,” you shrug. “Dunno if you’d be into it.”

“Name it and it’s yours,” Chan assures you.

“How do you feel about…fucking me while I’m asleep?”

To be continued…

[justchillandshipit]

I was going to post this last night, but I was tired. For Ramon to say, "The Diaz men," when referring to Chris and himself right after purposefully excluding Eddie from attending the match, makes me want to rage. The implication here is what? That somehow Eddie isn't a man. He couldn't go. (It was also clear they had not told Eddie about the chess tournament in the first place, even though he lives near them now. There is no way they should have even assumed that a parent would not want to see their own son in a tournament. There is no acceptable excuse for that. None. Also, when Eddie arrives at the tournament at Buck's encouragement, he learns that Ramon has been calling Chris his son.)

I know Minear has a habit of redeeming parents with no effort or change on the parents' part, but I don't feel like what happened last night should be the end of things with Eddie's parents. He claimed his rights as a Dad, but he desperately needs to claim his right to be treated with the respect of another human being, and yes, a man. It doesn't matter what his sexuality is. Eddie is still a man. I say this as a feminist. I hate the patriarchy, but I don't hate men, and Eddie deserves to have that respect. (That includes those who identify as trans.) People deserve the respect of their personhood.

There needs to be more confrontations. Period.

And yet another thing.

When you recall what Eddie said to Chris when he left about how he could always come home, whether it was 5 mins or 5 months etc., you really have to wonder what was being said in front of Chris. (as if he weren't capable of following a conversation.) We saw how Helena was. She wasn't outright confrontational. She was passive-aggressive and manipulative. I'd go so far as to say that she was gaslighting to get an outraged, angry reaction so she could play like she was the reasonable one or the victim. From there, she could accuse Eddie of behaving badly. And from Chris's behavior at the dinner table at Eddie's house. She has most definitely been doing the same to him. Even with the PS5, I think he gave the response that would avoid Helena being upset.

Seriously, what were they saying to Chris that he was thinking that Eddie wasn't his Dad anymore?

I swear, I really do adore and respect Tim Minear on many levels, but on this, I feel actively angry. Being a biological parent doesn't give you a free pass to do this. I'm not saying Tim should make all our firefighters hate their parents, but I think the parents should each have to put in the work with their actual children to repair the relationship. It shouldn't be Eddie's job to mend the fences he didn't break.

Eddie is a great parent. Chim, Hen, Maddie, and even Buck, if you want to include his co-parenting, are good parents. Bobby, obviously, is on the next level in parenting. They are not good parents because their parents taught them how to be good. They're good, first, because they are less selfish. Second, because they have been on the other side and know what they never want their kids to experience or feel. If any of these people do make mistakes, and they will because they're human, those mistakes don't come from the same place of selfishness. Eddie said it to Buck once, "I know you'll keep trying." That's what Eddie and the others do. They keep trying. Eddie's parents, Chim's parents, Buck's parents; I haven't seen them make the first attempt.

Lord, sorry guys. I didn't plan to rant. I just got angrier as I typed. Bless you if you stuck it out until the end.

I haven't read any post-episode interviews yet. I'll do that after this post, so some of this may be discussed elsewhere, but here you have my two cents on the matter.

[mediocreanomaly]

Rookie.

Cecil Stedman x Reader (GN!Reader, Age Gap)

Authors Note: Yes I'm a Cecil stan. No I won't apologize. There's just something about that old man's dry humor and morally grey decision making that enraptures me.

Cecil had stared down literal demons with a steadier pulse than this.

No, seriously, he'd experienced just about everything during his time on earth, kaijus, dead gods, alive gods, magic, mad science, fish people who, ironically, were pescatarian. Yet somehow, this is what shocks him.

“You don't want this, kid,” he sighs, pressing his fingers to his temples like he has the mother of all headaches coming on.

“You think you do, but you don't.”

The cocky mother fucker across from him just grins.

It's hard to pinpoint when exactly this had gotten so out of hand. With Rae, Rex, Rudy, Monster Girl, and Bulletproof gone, to say they were short a few guardians had been an understatement, and unfortunately, it had been Cecil who'd had to run the new tryouts. In the end only one really stood out, some local hero with the ability to steal other people's powers through touch for half an hour at a time. It wasn't much but apparently it used to be five minutes which suggested it could be extended whether that ended up being through training or the GDAs tech was yet to be determined but Cecil was desperate for a Hail Mary after his plan b and c against Mark had done jack shit and a temporary Viltrumite was as good as ever in terms of plans.

Looking back on it Cecil should have seen it from the beginning, the way the rookie had sat up straight like a dog waiting to impress its man with a trick when he'd walked in, but several of the others who'd known who he was had put on faces as well so he'd written it off as an attempt to impress.

The actual tryout had gone similarly; the little sneak had managed to get their paws on a few powers before getting into the ring and had made sure everyone knew it when a few training robots had nearly gone through the walls. Admittedly, Cecil had enjoyed the cunning; powers only got you so far if you didn't have the brains to use them, so it had been an easy call to green-light them onto the team.

Then things had gotten weird.

It had started with the training. Cecil didn't make it a habit to oversee every regimen; that's what Immortal was for, but he tried to stop in at the beginning of the month to see how the new members were settling in. When the rookie had noticed this, they'd begun showing up thirty minutes early and lingering late, purposefully trying to flaunt whatever flashy power they'd managed to snag for the session or showing off their new record for weights. Again, Cecil had begun wondering if they were attempting to brown nose their way into some higher position because it had at least become clear they were showing off for him.

It hadn't really clicked per se until a few months in when the rookie realized their golden ticket to seeing him was running reports to his office, a chore even Black Samson attempted to avoid at all cost.

Cecil should have nipped it in the bud; they'd begun overstaying their welcome as of late. He didn't do conversation, but God damn, the kid didn't give it a rest; they'd chatter on about how the guardians were, how their day had gone, about how great the GDA was. When he'd responded with varying levels of noncommittal grunts and ‘Do I look like your diary, kid?’ They'd begun a new approach.

Food, for one. Dropping off food with their reports because ‘there was no way he ate with his schedule’ which was half true but it didn't make it any easier accepting meals. Then they'd somehow managed to pick Donald's brain about interest of his and sneaking it into conversation.

‘I was just listening to Miles Davis the other day’ (they hadn't) ‘Ugh I could really go for a scotch right about now’ (they hated it)

What was worse is it had begun to work. Cecil didn't know why he hadn't told them to give it up and get the hell out of his office, if it had been anyone else he certainly would have but he was still a man at the end of the day.

It's not like he hadn't appreciated the occasional man or woman passing by before, but he was well out of his prime, not to mention too damn busy to even humor a one-night stand, much less anything regular. Besides, it's not like anyone really glanced his way these days, or they hadn't until you.

You had thrown some colossal-sized wrench into his life that he'd been trying desperately to ignore, which wasn't typically his style. Cecil was a problem solver at heart and saying ‘no’ to some green newbie on the team should have been one of the easiest decisions he'd made in a long life of hard calls. So why were you still sitting across from him and why was he still playing this game?

You pick up a stress ball off his desk that Donald had gotten him years ago (Cecil highly doubted he even remembered) and toy with it in your hands.

“You do know I'm not actually a kid right?” You retort

“You're still a kid to me, you're a third my age, rookie.” he watches the way you roll the ball between your hands, back and forth, back and forth.

“Put that down,” Cecil snaps, and you put it back on his desk, hands raised in mock surrender.

“Okay, well, I can consent is all I'm saying. Besides, you've been watching me too” you huff nonchalantly lounging against the seat.

Cecil stiffens at the accusation and sets his jaw in irritation. Watching you? Of course he had, he was the director of the GDA it was his job to watch you.

“I've been watching you because it's my job to make sure our new Guardian of the Globe isn't a liability” he answers cooly “Especially the reckless ones.”

That gets a snort out of you.

“Come on, boss, I've been on good behavior,” you say with a grin that drips with young cockiness and naivety and makes Cecil understand why he's losing hair.

It's irritating, both because you're a smug little bastard and because you aren't wrong. Cecil didn't need to look through your files or check in on the cameras to make sure you were getting on. All the reports said the same thing, a little rough around the edges in terms of discipline and skill but a very promising investment to both the team and GDA with great potential and a knack for following orders (especially when they came from Cecil himself).

“Plus-” you continue before he can lay his next words of disapproval down upon you. “-the fact you're even entertaining the conversation makes me think you're not as opposed to this as you're trying to make it seem.”

Ceci keeps his composure but internally, as much as he hates to admit it, you had a point. Despite all his reservations here the two of you were.

“Don't mistake tolerance for interest, kid.” he says a warning in his tone. “just because I'm listening to you does not mean I'm not opposed to this”

Your smile falters for a fraction of a moment before a new set of determination falls over you as you cross your arms.

“You're lying.” You cross your arms and fix Cecil with your own hard look forgetting the playful facade in favor of your own equally serious shift in mood.

“You barely let Samson talk about the weather but I get half an hour about jazz? I call bullshit.”

Cecil's eyes narrow at the accusation.

“I'm not lying I'm… omitting certain details.” He says crossing his own arms mimicking your stance, silently daring you to challenge him again.

“you mean the ones where you're interested in me?” You ask raising an eyebrow refusing to lose this little verbal tennis match.

“Interested is a strong word.” He replies cooly, but damn it all. Why did it sound like he was trying to convince himself?

“It's more… tolerating your relentless advances.”

And there it was, acknowledgment of the subject he'd been dancing around.

“Oh, so you have noticed,” you reply pleased.

Cecil fixes you with an unimpressed look, as if he could miss the outrageous peacocking that had begun to take place in his presence. His only saving grace had been the fact that no one in their right mind would guess who you were showing off for.

“That's good, I was starting to think it was going to waste.” You continue unbothered.

Cecil grits his teeth, torn somewhere between annoyance and grudging respect. The rookie had persistence if nothing else.

"How can I not notice you constantly showing off for me," he retorts "You're like a damn puppy. All eager eyes and wagging tail."

“For some reason…” you drawl leaning your elbows on his desk. “I feel like that's your type”

“My type?” Cecil lets out a short laugh, caught off guard by the audacity of the statement.

“I'm not sure you want to know ‘my type’, kid. It's anything but fresh-faced overly eager do-gooders.”

You shrug.

“Maybe. Or maybe you don't mind what sort of outlook or attitude you get so long as you're listened to in the end.”

You trail your fingers over the nameplate on his desk, tracing out the engraved pattern of ‘Director Stedman’

“And I've never questioned your orders, sir.”

Cecil's gaze follows the movement of your fingertip, trying to ignore the stir in his chest.

“You don't question me because it's my job to keep your naive ass alive.”

“Why are you pretending you don't want me?” You fire back.

“is it such a big deal if you feel a little something for someone?”

Cecil feels his patience thin at how easy you make this sound, like he's some handsome stranger at a bar and not the director of the god damn GDA.

“It's not about feeling, and it's a little bit more than a ‘little something’ You're like a damn virus, always there infecting my thoughts.”

He pushes away from his desk, fist clenching at his side like a physical manifestation of the internal struggle he was feeling inside.

You frown and furrow your brows at the man at the firm reluctance on the other man's behalf.

“Why are you saying it like it's bad? I've been thinking about you too you know”

A sharp laugh escapes between his teeth, harsh and humorless.

“It is bad, kid. This… whatever this is, whatever feelings you think you have, it's dangerous.”

Cecil begins pacing the spot behind his desk, his steps quick and frustrated.

“This isn't some high school crush, you can't just move on when you realize how wrong it is.”

You huff slightly insulted by the implication.

“I've put a hell of a lot of effort into this for a ‘high school crush’” you reply unimpressed.

“I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't serious”

“How can you be serious? You're more than half my fucking age!”

Cecil runs a hand through his hair frustration etched into every line of his face. Despite his better judgment, he could feel his ability to keep up the argument waning.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales.

“What could I possibly offer you aside from a life time of trauma and a constant reminder I'll probably die before you hit your fourties?”

You wrinkle your nose at the distasteful words.

“you're sixty, not eighty, plus I have money on the fact that you'll manage to outlive Omni-Man on spite alone.” you muse before letting your expression fall into something more serious.

“but honestly? I don't care about that. I like you. I mean sure at first I just thought you were attractive but-” you continue before Cecil can make a smart comment. “-you're competent. Like overly competent. You're witty in conversation and I know you care more than you let on. Let the others say what they will but I've seen the things you do for people's families and for their safety, maybe the job limits what you can do with that good but that doesn't mean it's not there. I'd like to know that man.”

“You make me sound like a god damn saint” he mutters eyes flickering to yours.

Your words had hit more then a few nerves whether he liked it or not. Ones that deep down… he knew had already begun to fracture.

You sigh and meet his gaze, unwavering.

“I get it more then you think. I'm young, not stupid... I won't pretend it'll be an easy relationship but I'm in it to try.”

You pause before adding, “and if it makes you feel better I like that you're an asshole too.”

Despite everything, an amused smile plays at his lips and with it a small pang if affection.

“You like me because I'm a bastard? That's a new one I'll admit.” he retorts, dry humor in his voice.

“what can I say?” You shrug “your general irritation is charming.”

You watch him carefully knowing that this was the make it or break it moment.

“... Would it really be so bad? You've given your life to the GDA, you could use something nice behind closed doors.”

Something nice…

He could feel his feet on the metaphorical edge of whatever leap was ahead of him. He was being worn down with your persistence but what was scarier is that he didn't really want to fight it in the first place.

“You know how how this would look right? The director of a top secret defense agency dating some rookie hero?”

You can feel it. The way you've got him snagged.

“I won't let it affect my work performance, hell I'll sign an NDA if you want”

“an NDA, how romantic” he scoffs but there's an undercurrent of sarcastic amusement at the idea.

Despite his barbed words, he appreciates the practicality. It was, after all, one if the reasons he'd been drawn in in the first place.

He let's out an exasperated sigh.

“... You're too damn stubborn you know that?”

You grin, already knowing you've won.

“I'll grab my pen.”

[writerpeach]

Studious Seduction

Oh My Girl Arin x m! reader

10k words

Thanks to @i-am-lifeform24 for help with editing

Part One | Part Two

---

Read on AO3

"This seems like a bad idea, Miss Choi."

"It's a terrible idea, professor. Which is why we're doing it." 

Without a doubt, there’s very little chance that you won’t be spotted here. Heading up a stairwell that leads up to who knows where is hardly ideal, especially with the sudden rain shower that's started to pour above, foreshadowing this bad decision made in tandem. 

Yet, you’ve never been one to make the best choices. An inappropriate relationship with one of your students has to be ranked at the top of the list, wrong for a myriad of reasons—all that could get you fired. Still, it somehow continues unimpeded, knowing the risks, both of you doubling down even. 

At this point, you’re not sure if you’re a bad influence on Arin, or if she’s a bad influence on you. 

To make matters worse, today’s outfit of choice is this poor excuse for a school uniform that draws all your attention. A risky little ensemble that consists of a white shirt and black tie combo that only pretends to be proper, covering very little of her midriff, as well as this dark little pleated miniskirt so short it might as well not exist for how little of her thighs it hides. It leaves more of her creamy skin uncovered, and being her professor, you know it's not appropriate to look—yet you can’t stop yourself from doing so anyways. 

And then there’s those dark frames on her face, the cherry on top that puts this whole thing together, that takes her from an innocent, responsible student more than invested in class, to this devilish vixen who struts into your office, demanding to be ruined, never taking no for an answer. 

There’s almost no room for imagination, offering you such an obscene view when Arin heads up the stairs, purposefully walking in front of you with slow, deliberate steps. You can see the shape of her perfectly round butt cheeks exposed, her tight fitting thong doing anything but covering up delicious pale flesh. Of course, she knows exactly where your line of sight goes when you walk behind her, making an effort to shake her wide hips a little more with each step, giving you a shameless view of her tight, succulent ass.

This outfit is every dress code violation she could possibly make rolled into one. 

But who's going to admonish her? You? Who can't even think logically at the moment when all your thoughts have turned to mush? Not a chance when all you want to do is slip your hand between her thighs too delicious to resist until she makes a mess on your fingers, the floor, and anywhere else that becomes collateral damage.

Right now, you have the perfect opportunity for exactly that. You’ve lost track of how many steps you’ve walked, but eventually, the stairwell comes to an end, with a set of metal double doors that leads up to the rooftop. As good a place as any other, you think, especially when there's little reason anyone else would want to venture towards the top level during this never-ending rainstorm.

“Here?” you question, when Arin presses your back against the cold wall just underneath the final level of the stairwell. A solitary gaze into her eyes is all you get before she wraps her hands around your neck and plants a heated, sloppy kiss on your lips. She nods in affirmation, but doesn’t give you the time to catch your breath, slipping her tongue into your mouth to make an attempt to taste all of you.

“It's really open here. Pretty easy to get caught," you tell her when she moves from your lips, placing wet kisses across your jawline, moving lower down to your neck. 

"That's the point, professor." Arin places your hands firmly around her waist, leading you exactly where she wants your touch. Her legs spread a little further apart so you can push her skirt up, revealing just how tiny of a thong she's wearing. "I don't care if we get caught. Make a mess of me—" 

She sighs when your fingertips press against her clothed core, so aroused you can already feel her slick leaking through the flimsy fabric. You add more pressure in response, rewarded with Arin's soft gasps against the sensitive skin of your neck.

"We could get in a lot of trouble, Yewon," you breathe out, barely paying attention to anything beyond this. In fact, you hardly care about what could go wrong either, so consumed with lust, one singular desire that Arin shares, and your fingertips ache to slip underneath these panties and sink right in. 

"When has that ever stopped us before?" 

She has a point. 

This is risky as it gets. And that’s what makes it all more exciting. 

Without wasting any more time, you slip a finger underneath the fabric of her panties, into her ridiculously warm cunt. A second one slides in right after, and soaked as she already is, barely puts up any resistance, the entrance of her tight little hole eagerly swallowing you up.

“Professor—“

A few strokes is all you manage before Arin throws her head back in delight, rolling her hips, moaning from nothing more but your fingers slowly pumping in and out of her needy cunt. 

Arin clings to your shoulder as the tempo picks up, her other hand quickly traveling down your torso until it reaches your pants. She finds the button to your slacks right away, unzipping them to slip a hand inside your boxers. You let out a groan when she runs a gentle hand along the length of your shaft, slow and teasing—until she wraps her entire hand around it and grips you tight.

“Yewon..." A wave of pleasure rushes through your whole body. She's stroking your cock with such a perfect grip, slender fingers reaching down to fondle your balls, eager for what they’ve stored up just for her. Meanwhile, the sounds that come from her own throat as she rides your fingers become a necessary distraction, urging you to thrust into her a little faster, a little rougher— 

"How many loads are you going to give me today, professor? I hope they're all as thick as they were yesterday—"

It's rather ridiculous, the things you hear come out of Arin's mouth. The demure looking girl in the front row, raising her hand up high, blushing just at the sight of you, now says the filthiest things when she's got her mouth on your earlobe and her pussy filled with your fingers. She's every bit the opposite of an exemplary student, but you suppose that's your fault, given you're the one who's trading straight A's for the roughest, raunchiest sex that almost always ends up with you finishing inside her. 

But the way Arin sounds when she moans directly in your ear, riding your fingers so selfishly while they stay buried inside her cunt, it makes you forget all that. None of that matters. All that does is satisfying her needs and yours, and you won't stop until she's absolutely drenched your fingers, even if it ruins that pathetic pair of panties. 

"Don't stop, professor. I'm so close…"

She's lost all inhibitions in her frantic desire to keep rocking her hips hard against your fingers. You can feel the tension about to snap, her walls squeezing the life out of your slick digits—all while she tries to keep a steady rhythm in her own pumping, giving your cock a good squeeze each time your fingers plunge to the hilt.

"Professor, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—" Arin’s breathing grows unsteady, heavy, and she gasps for air between every syllable that escapes her lips. You’ll do everything to oblige her, steadily thrusting, curling your fingers to find that sweet spot that gets her to moan the loudest until she lets go of your cock, clinging her entire weight onto you.

"You're gonna make me fucking cum—"

Nothing gets said in response, obeying Arin’s pleas, an uninterrupted stream of juices beginning to coat your fingers while she lets out one continuous moan, unable to speak coherently upon climax. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she nearly draws blood before the wetness gushes down your fingers, rendering her panties useless, completely ruined with all this sticky arousal.

Her walls flutter around you, this explosive orgasm lasting far longer than you expect—but you don’t let up, pumping away as she spills more, riding this out until it turns into a second one shortly after. And when you press your thumb firmly against her clit, right as she starts to come down from her high, the violent trembles in her body repeat, sending her over the edge a third time, forcing her body to shake against yours, another loud, shameless moan spilling out of her in overstimulation. 

It's a wonder how the rest of campus hasn’t heard the screams echoing all the way down the staircase. Were it not for the rain pouring overhead drowning out her cries of pleasure, it would be near impossible for anyone passing by to not hear a thing. So you’re blessed by the rains, both above, and between Arin’s sticky thighs. 

After it’s all said and done, she can hardly support her own weight when the sensation of your fingers inside her becomes too much for her oversensitive cunt, Arin’s sweaty frame nearly toppling over as she breathes heavily. Good thing you're right here to do what she temporarily can’t, clinging to your body, your hard cock still poking against her as you keep her upright amidst these intense aftershocks. 

"That was, fuck—you've really outdone yourself, professor. I can hardly stand."

When you pull your fingers out, you can’t hide the smirk that spreads across your face with all this slick clinging to your fingertips as she leans on your body to take a breath. The praise washes over you while Arin unexpectedly grabs your wrist, bringing your soaked fingers, all the way up to her lips to fervently suck the delicious liquid off. 

You intently watch her lick herself off you, tongue lewdly swirling around the length of each wet digit, making an effort to swallow all of her mess. Her lips glisten with spit and wetness, a ravenous look in her bespectacled eyes as she cleans whatever she can, tasting every drop of her delicious essence, staring at you seductively until nothing is left. 

"Guess I don't need these anymore," Arin says after a pause, gradually recovering as she peels her drenched thong down her legs, letting it drop to her ankles before she slips it off, stuffing it into your front pocket. A cute little smile later, and she looks more than eager for what's next, unable to tear her gaze away from how hard you’ve been left thanks to her. 

"I should finish what I started, don't you think, professor?" 

You don't even get to answer when Arin drops to her knees on the cold floor, tugging your pants and boxers further down, freeing your cock that so desperately needs it—so desperately needs her. With a cute, light giggle, she spits onto your swollen shaft, pumping the entire length with her delicate fingers, a low moan rising in your throat as she pays extra attention to the underside where she knows you're the most sensitive.

Her slender fingers work up the length of your cock, coming back down with a grip so wonderfully tight. She’s so ready, so eager to have her soft lips around it already. You can practically see her salivating when she leans in a little closer to lap her tongue around your cock in one long, lazy lick, pressing her lips into a light kiss on the tip of your shaft. 

“Yewon—“

You can’t hold in a grunt when Arin rubs your tip against her mouth, not opening up enough to take you whole yet, instead tracing her full, soft lips over your needy cockhead. 

“Don’t you worry, professor. Gonna make you feel so good. I promise.” 

The anticipation explodes all at once as she parts her lips, slipping the entire head of your cock inside. The moment her wet mouth makes contact with your shaft, you groan at the sudden warmth, a sharp contrast from her icy cold hands. She takes more of your length down, hollowing her cheeks, keeping an intense, erotic gaze while slowly bobbing her head up and down. 

"Mhmph—" Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine as her lips slip further and further down, the tip of her tongue flicking against what hasn’t disappeared into her mouth. You can’t help but let out all types of unabashed moans while she guides more of you inside, spit dripping down to your balls as she slides deeper, until nothing of you is left to swallow up, the head of your cock hitting the back of her tight throat with ease. 

"Yewon, fuck,” you say, nearly breathless, and the way Arin looks up at you with her mouth so proudly sealed around every inch—there’s nothing better. “I'll never get enough of your pretty fucking mouth.” 

Arin hums against the length of your shaft at your praise, working more of her magic on you, lips getting down so devastatingly deep against your base. She’s oh so eager, so unwaveringly committed to covering every single inch in saliva. Her hot little mouth slides down effortlessly, bobbing her head back, each stroke just a bit sloppier, a little wetter than the one before, with zero intention of giving you a chance to gather yourself.

“Nobody gives a blowjob like I do, right, professor? Nobody can make you cum as hard as I can. I love being on my knees for you so much, being a good little slut for my professor. That’s what I am, aren't I?"

Nodding your head is all you can do, breath heavy in disbelief of how good this oral assault is, the enthusiasm on display really proving how much Arin enjoys having your cock shoved down her wet, inviting throat. 

You’d sacrifice your entire livelihood for a blowjob like this. 

It’s quite simple to lose track of how many times her talented mouth takes your entire length down, so good at pleasuring you it's impossible to find words. The way her wet tongue flicks against your slit when she slides off, only to have you plunging all the way back into the heat of her throat—it's far, far too good.

"I want you to cum on my face, professor," Arin tells you, so casually as she pulls away for a brief second before going right back to licking up the length of your hard cock, spitting all the excess saliva over the rest of you. Then she’s back to placing hungry wet kisses against each inch, her tongue making a slick path before she gives the leaking slit of your cock another teasing, torturous swirl. "I want all of it."

At this rate, you think you could blow a load anywhere she wanted you to, already so close to bursting just at her tongue lavishing your cock with these feverish licks. She has this way of making you feel so special, like worshiping your cock is all that matters to her, your pleasure the most important aspect in her life. Her greedy mouth proves just that, making you groan so easily, especially when she dips down to pay attention to your balls and slurps so messily on them like she wants your load at any cost. 

A few lazy licks down your sack and you’re back down her throat—just trapped there helplessly as she holds you, her pretty mouth so goddamn overwhelming when she swallows as much of your length as she possibly can, not showing even the slightest hint of strain. Her full lips stay motionless when they slide right down to your base, gaze locked tight, making your cock throb within her tight, wet throat. 

“Stay there, Yewon, shit,” you groan, hands clutching her head against your crotch to speed up the path to climax. Each second she remains there feels like absolute heaven, fostering all this unbearable bliss, all while those doe eyes speak for her when her mouth can’t—impatiently waiting, desperately wanting to empty your balls. 

When she releases her lips from your length, there’s a sexy little gasp that comes with the messy string of saliva pulling her back down. Repeating the act, she plunges right back down, nose nestling comfortably against your abdomen, lips wrapped entirely around the base of your length. “Yewon, god, you know what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.“ 

"Oh, you’re gonna cum? Want you to paint my pretty face. Don’t you, professor?” 

There’s no answer to offer other than what she wants, all thoughts drowned by another wet slurp when Arin once again takes every inch of you down her throat, the overwhelming warmth of her mouth suffocating your length. Then she rises, exposing your shaft to the cool air for only a moment until her throat tightens when you’re back down, fully sheathed. 

Arin’s so dedicated to hearing you moan that these steadfast strokes show no relent, slurping from base to tip, hair all a mess as she bobs faster and faster, maintaining never-ending eye contact that’ll be the death of you.

“Need it. Need it so bad, your hot cum dripping down my face when I walk back down these stairs. Can’t wait to feel how thick and heavy a load you’ll give me.” 

Her pace only begins to go into overdrive, picking up rampantly when Arin places her hands on your thighs for better stability, the hot slickness of her mouth far too much to handle. She takes every inch, all of you disappearing down, without needing to stop to take a breath, like she’s proving a point at how good she can get you off. There's no restraint as she bobs her head without inhibitions, sloppily, noisily, not even gagging when her throat delivers an unimaginable level of pleasure. 

"Oh my god, Yewon, fuck—"

With each desperate stroke, you're so close to that edge, quickly approaching the inevitable. The tightness in your balls grows beyond your control, and there’s no time to think straight when her mouth feels this fucking good, almost there, absolutely about to—

"I'm gonna fucking cum, Yewon," you groan out just in time, with no qualms about how needy you sound. One last slow descent down to your base, then Arin pops your needy shaft from her mouth right when it seems you’re about to burst any second. 

And looking as salacious as possible, she simply tilts her head slightly backwards, jerking you off while directing the tip of your cock straight at her face, eagerly anticipating the release that's about to cover her.

“Cum all over me, professor.” 

You let out a strained, guttural moan the moment your first pearlescent stream shoots out, streaking across the bridge of her nose. These frantic strokes don’t let up, guiding your milky seed that unloads onto the perfect target—her glasses, coating the lenses in white and getting it all over her rosy cheeks. Another strand fires off as she shifts your cock downwards, a thick stream blasting across her parted lips that deserve so much of this load for helping you reach an explosive release. 

She pumps, and pumps, until there’s nothing left, and by the time your orgasm winds down, Arin is a total mess, one you’ll never get tired of seeing your load plastered all over her. Her stunning features wear you like a proud smile, drenched in her handiwork, thick streaks that cling to her cheeks, those soft lips, and anywhere else it happens to land as she strokes your length to ensure not a drop goes to waste. 

That look is all too familiar when the weight of your load starts to drip down, an orgasmic feeling that brings a grin onto her cum-stained face.

“That’s a big load, professor. Just what I wanted," she says as she removes her stained glasses, taking a nice, long lick right over the lens and making a show of the entire thing. "I think I'm obsessed. With your cum. It tastes so good, but looks better on my face."

"Yewon—you're ridiculous, you know that?" you tell her as she carefully slips the glasses back on, and wipes up whatever has run off to the corners of her lips, bringing her sticky fingers into her own mouth to slurp them clean.

"It's not my fault my professor's cum tastes so good."

But before she can even begin to clean off your cock, or savor what an absolute mess she’s covered in, the sound of footsteps nearby force her to stop mid-stroke, causing both your heads to turn with a shared look of panic. There's only enough time to tuck yourself back into your pants, but there's nothing to do at all about this massive load that's dripping all over Arin, nor what’s done a number on the stairwell. 

"Get behind me, Yewon. Quick."

Arin nods and does as you say, scrambling to her feet, also making sure her thong is still tucked away into your pocket as you zip your pants up. The sounds of footsteps echo louder, yet there's only one real way to escape this stairwell, because you're not going out that door when the rain hasn't let up one bit. 

When the moment those footsteps approach the stairwell entrance, they slow to a halt, making your heart beat faster. Arin moves fast enough to get behind you just in time, out of sight and behind your broad frame. And the two of you wait there, her body pressed against yours, trying to hold her breath, dreading to explain yourself to whoever just made this abrupt end to your fun. 

"Professor? Is that you?" The voice sounds so familiar, but you can't quite pick it out, too muffled by the rain. But there's no doubt you've heard this voice before. It's certainly one of your students, so at least you won’t have to explain this to a faculty member. "What a surprise, seeing you here!"

Normally, you'd have all the time in the world for pleasantries and small talk, but this is the last place where you can do anything of the sort as you try to shield Arin. From who exactly, you have no idea as they walk into frame. Their name escapes you, not that you really care when all you want is to get out of this situation. 

"Is something the matter, professor? Why are you standing there?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. I had some time between classes and came up here to check out the rain. It's not letting up is it?" You put on the best smile possible, knowing Arin can't be spotted right behind you. Luckily, your taller frame can block her body completely, and given how the area is poorly lit, there isn't much worry about the mess that's on her face at the very least.

"No, it isn't. We don't usually get so much rain this time of year, huh?" The unnamed student asks as she glances out the window, and for a brief second you fear the worst—but she doesn't seem to notice anything at all that shouldn't be there. "I didn't even bring an umbrella today either..."

"You might check the library, they'll have them."

"The library?"

"They used to offer some a few months back, but I guess everyone forgot. I'm sure they still have a few left."

"I might give that a try then, thanks. It's good to see you, professor." 

When your student smiles and waves goodbye, heading back the stairs without another word, you're able to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing the ordeal is finally over, despite taking years off your life. "Jesus, Yewon."

"That was close.” Her own breath stays ragged and heavy, almost completely forgetful to the mess you've left on her face that still glistens. "Good save. Really pulled that umbrella story out of thin air, didn’t you?” 

“Whatever it takes. Hey, they might have umbrellas. I’ve never gone there except to rail you.” 

Arin laughs, then suddenly remembers she still has your filth all over her. “Better go clean up I guess..."

"This was a really terrible idea."

"Hey, this was my terrible idea," Arin corrects with a grin that manages to shine through all the mess. "And I don’t hear you complaining about me giving you a nice, sloppy blowjob, professor.” 

“I could never complain about seeing my favorite student on her knees.” 

“I'll go on ahead. Maybe I'll see you later? For office hours?"

You say nothing more as you let her pass you to head down the stairs first, standing here a bit longer for your heart rate to calm before you too make your exit. You've got a class in under an hour that you haven't prepared for, and now how could you, coming so close from potentially losing your job. But yet, somehow, through all that, Arin was right—the rush of getting caught is exhilarating, but that was far too close for comfort. 

✦ ✦

So after all that, logic would dictate that you should be a little more careful, that maybe you should stop having sex with your student in places you're bound to get caught—but logic went out the window the moment you bent Arin over your desk for the very first time. What else are you going to do though, take her home to your apartment where there's actual privacy, where you don't have to keep quiet?

That sounds so very drab and mundane, and you'd rather spend another ten hours grading papers than go the proper route. You don't even know what you would do if you wound up in Arin's bedsheets, having all the freedom to rail her for hours instead of the thrill of being in public where you have to be quick and quiet.

There's nothing wrong or unhealthy with this relationship. Not one bit. 

You've told yourself on multiple occasions that you should dial it down a notch, not meet quite so often, or at least not in places that will put your career at risk. After all, your luck is going to run out one of these days, and the day could very well come when more than just a student catches the two of you, maybe one of the other professors, or god forbid the university staff. 

And then it's all over for both of you. 

Yet, there isn't a day when you don't seek each other out, find some empty closet, a vacant faculty office, or that spot near the back of the library that's so dusty that no one frequents. 

The risk is almost as good as being balls deep inside Arin itself. 

You can't exactly help yourself when she wears these slutty little outfits that practically beg you to rip them off her, nothing but the shortest skirts imaginable to class, where you have to stop your eyes from wandering throughout the entirety of the lecture. 

Arin sits in the front row for a reason, and that's not to get a better view of the whiteboard. No, it's so she can spread her legs open when no one's paying attention, flash whatever sexy pair of panties she has underneath (or the lack thereof on occasion), and sometimes even play with herself so she can show off how wet she is. 

Somehow, no one's really noticed how often you have her in your office, where there's less talk about class going on, and more your head buried between her thighs, or having her bent over your desk in some obscene position with her mouth stuffed by her ruined underwear and screaming through it.

With everything that’s transpired today, one would think you’d call it early and pack up. Not you though. Not even an hour has gone by since your close call, and Arin is in your office again, sucking you off underneath your desk while you work on grading papers—at least you should be, if only you could focus for more than a few seconds without this warm mouth slobbering on your cock. 

"I bet none of your other students can deepthroat you as good as I can."

"You said you were going to be quiet."

"And you said you were going to fuck me, professor."

You haven't exactly broken that promise, it's more like Arin decided she wasn't going to wait until you finished, always finding an excuse to get in her favorite position whenever she wants to suck you off. 

Luckily, for your students, you're going to be in such a tremendous mood after finishing in this girl's hungry mouth. These papers are downright horrendous—so fucking awful and unreadable it makes you wonder if you should intentionally pound Arin in your office with the door wide open, just so you’ll get caught, lose your job, and never have to deal with some of these students ever again.

Not even a few papers in and you’ve lost every ounce of focus, groaning while Arin empties your balls, her mouth right at your base when your spills right down her throat. With your fingers gripping the back of her head, it's impossible to not avoid bucking your hips into her pretty, sloppy mouth as she drains each thick shot from your pulsing cock, swallowing it all with pride to make sure there's not a single trace of your creamy release that hasn't gone directly into her stomach. 

"All those students probably failed anyways," she tells you, letting the saliva fall from her lips as she shows off her empty mouth with a pleased smile, planting a nice, loud wet kiss on your tip before getting back up to her feet.

"Yeah? Including you?"

"Of course not, professor. We both know before you even look at my paper that I've got a perfect grade." 

"Is that so? And what have you done to deserve that, Yewon?" 

Before you've even gotten your pants back on properly, Arin is already claiming a spot on the edge of your desk, undoing her tie so that it hangs loosely around her neck, and then spreads those luscious thighs as wide apart as they can go, her gorgeous, dripping pussy on display without any underwear in the way. "I can think of a few things. Doesn't emptying you down my throat count for something?"

"Hm, I dunno,” you ponder, shamelessly staring between those delectable thighs at what’s all yours. “Maybe a few points. That'll get you a passing grade at best."

"Just a few? What about all the times I've ridden your cock this week alone, professor? And how many times did you cum inside me?"

"I've completely lost track, Yewon. I guess that'll get you at least ten percent higher."

"How generous of you," she retorts, tone all full with playful sarcasm, unbuttoning her white shirt enough so you can see the color of her bra. It's purple, just like the thong in your pocket that serves as a nice trophy. "Are you forgetting how many times I took your thick cock in my ass until you blew your load inside?"

"Does that really count if you beg me to do so every time you step in my office?"

"Oh no, you can't blame me for how much you love my ass, professor. That's at least twenty points."

"That's a little greedy, don't you think?"

"Absolutely not. If anything, I deserve extra for all those times I let you fuck my face," Arin suggests, spreading her legs further apart to give a clearer view of her bare cunt that’s glistening so beautifully, accompanied with a set of fingers teasing herself for your benefit. 

"Again, you're forgetting the part where you keep dropping down to your knees and begging for it."

Arin can't help but smile, both at knowing you're right—and also how you can't take your eyes off the show her fingers put on when she rubs at her clit, getting wet so easily from playing with herself while staring into your eyes. It's the look on your face that drives her crazy and gives her the urge to show off even more, sliding two digits past her swollen lips into her tight hole, so eager to get herself off in front of you. 

"What about now, profess—" she asks before a moan interrupts her words, leaning backwards to prop herself up so you can watch every bit as she fingers herself. "Does this count for anything?"

"It depends. If you can make yourself cum without my help, then maybe, that'll bump up your grade, Yewon."

"Twenty-five. For making myself cum right in your office," she manages between hitched breaths, pumping her fingers deep in and out, almost bucking her hips off the table at her own touch.

"Twenty. You're not there yet, Yewon," you correct, watching Arin roll her head back with her eyes shut, so beautiful when she's in bliss, achingly sexy how her slender fingers disappear knuckle deep into her own cunt. You've barely had any time to recover since emptying your load down her throat just a minute ago, but the mere sight is more than enough to have you as hard as the wooden desk she’s writhing on. 

Arin reaches down to further unbutton her shirt, giving the full glimpse of her breasts covered up in that pretty lace as her tight frame falls back against the cold surface all splayed out. While this shameless girl continues fingering her pussy, you simply enjoy the view, stroking your cock every few seconds to spur her on. Every desperate moan and gasp from her lips gets louder, all that nectar trickling down between her spread thighs you’re dying to lick clean—but you won’t, because she has to do this on her own. 

You let the lack of words exchanged linger in the air while Arin fingers herself a bit rougher, moving a bit more frantic, knowing all the signs from experience that she isn't too far from that much craved release. 

“Professor," Arin breathes out, the quiver in her voice an obvious indication. Her fingers get so drenched, pulling them out from her heat for a moment to reveal how sticky wet they are as she groans, not bothering to hide how she slides them back in to curl right into herself. "Oh god, professor—“ 

When the pleasure becomes too much, when her back arches off the desk with breathless cries, there's no missing the split second Arin's entire body tenses up—thighs quivering, fingers buried so deep you can hear the wetness while she shakes on the desk from the intensity of her orgasm. It's a moment of euphoria that's only reached because you're watching so attentively, eyes glued the entire time as she rides her fingers long past completion, toes curling, moans echoing through your small office.

Even when Arin is finished, she's unable to regain her composure for more than a few ragged breaths, eyes still closed while the bliss hits hard, long after her high. And you savor every second of her looking so beautiful in this post-climax haze, an absolute mess on your desk that you’re thankful hasn't soaked into your papers.

"Fuck, that was too good, professor," Arin murmurs, slowly pulling her fingers out from herself, just to rub her oversensitive clit, borderline crying from the overstimulation. “It’s too bad it wasn’t your cock I came on.” 

"Then maybe I should deduct points for that?"

"Hey, that's not fair… you just told me—I’d get points for making myself cum."

"I did, but—you would have earned extra for waiting for me to do it. Guess you'll just have to earn back those points another way."

"How exactly should I do that, professor?" Arin asks with the best faux ignorance possible, sitting herself up to scoot off the desk, then leaning down to wrap her slick fingers around your shaft. "If you bend me over and pound me with this cock until your cum is leaking inside me, would that be enough?"

"Perhaps. That would certainly help raise your grade some points.” 

"Give it all to me then," she pleads, giving your cock a handful of languid strokes, just enough to leave a nice trail of her slick along the entire length. "Fuck a load into me, professor. Fuck your top student all over this office."

"Top student? Really?" You can't help but laugh at that, knowing full well Arin is certainly anything but. Far from it actually, not even top ten. "Then I better go find her then."

"Hey! Just shut up and give it to me already," Arin says with that pout still intact, keeping these strokes going on your cock that make you throb so easily, and you’re not sure who needs it more at this point. 

"Fine, but not here. I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."

It's rather late into the afternoon, with the majority of classes for the day having ended already. That leaves enough of the campus vacant, lowering the risk of getting caught wherever you decide to take Arin—but the risk still isn't zero. Wandering around the university after hours isn't the best idea, especially when there are plenty of places for students to hang out, and worse, faculty offices open late.

So you keep it simple. 

You keep several feet ahead of each other, heading up a couple floors to that really small bathroom by the science department that no one ever uses because it doesn't lock properly. There are much bigger and better bathrooms scattered about, so everyone usually forgets this tiny, shabby thing exists, especially late into the day. Not the most romantic spot, but it’s suitable, and keeps you from scouring the halls without having to dodge other faculty and students. 

You enter first, flicking on the light, and do a quick scan around the room while Arin slips in, pulling the door shut as quickly as possible. There's nothing but a toilet, a sink, and a mirror, but most importantly it looks clean, which is the most important thing. It's not that surprising given that nobody really uses it to begin with.

It’s as perfect a place as ever. 

Double checking the lock still doesn't work, nothing has changed on that front. Arin quickly moves to lean against the wall, and she’s already unbuttoning her shirt, all the way this time, to give the full view of those perky breasts without any bra to ruin the view. You're on her in a flash, claiming those lips with a kiss full of nothing but aggression to match just how badly you want to ruin this girl right now.

"Fuck me," Arin urges as she palms your bulge through your pants, impatient to get your cock inside of her. Her fingers fumble with the button to your pants, thoughts clouded with desire, and she’s so eager to release your aching shaft, to give it all the attention it so desperately craves.

You’ve got just a modicum of patience left to not let that happen quite yet.

Instead, with your lips still attached, you pick Arin’s slender frame off the ground, and guide her over to the sink, placing her there as gently as you can. When she settles down on the edge of the counter, there's no hesitation to shove that tiny skirt up past her waist, revealing her absolutely beautiful cunt still left glistening in the aftermath of her orgasm from a moment earlier, and you're just dying to fill her all up. 

Still, somehow you hold back for a moment, to let it all sink in. The sight is divine enough, this privileged student of yours in this rather pathetic excuse for a school uniform, half naked, shirt wide open with her tits fully out, that barely-there skirt, and those sexy thigh highs that bring all the attention to her immaculate thighs that make you want to ruin her even faster. She knows that’s your biggest weakness, knows how weak in the knees they leave you whenever you get to slide them off with your teeth—but now they make her look like pure sin. 

"I know you wanna get that dick in me," she says, voice so sultry, and her thighs spread obscenely wide apart, so that every inch of her mouthwatering cunt is put on display with not a drop of modesty—not like Arin even knows what that word is. 

"Not yet. Haven't gotten to taste you today." As per usual, Arin’s been more than a little greedy, and it feels like she’s had her lips on your cock all day and this is the first opportunity to return the favor. 

Any protest in those pretty eyes doesn't last when her hands wrap around your skull, drawing your face straight between her thighs that you have no trouble diving into. With your lips feasting on her cunt right off the bat, you give Arin all the attention she craves so badly, licking along the length of her slit, all the way up until your tongue starts flicking at her engorged clit. 

"God, so fucking good," Arin breathes out, the silence in the empty bathroom getting cut with all her beautiful moans that ring out. For your efforts, you’re rewarded by her thighs locking around your head, as your lips get a tight seal around her swollen clit that has her grinding that delicious cunt all over your mouth. 

"Professor!" she chokes out, while continuing this harsh grip on the back of your head while you slurp on her clit so mercilessly, every bit hungry to taste all those delicious juices that spill out. "Oh my god, professor, oh fuck!"

Your mouth doesn't quit, because nobody tastes better than Arin. You're an addict, every bit obsessed with this girl's cunt since the first time that you slid between these thighs. There's nothing you love more than this, her taste lingering on your tongue, all while these delicious thighs squeeze around your head, suffocating you perfectly as you eat her out with so much fervor she almost can't handle how good you make her feel.

"My god, Yewon—you taste so fucking delicious," you tell her between long licks, slurping on her clit without restraint to savor every last bit of her soaking cunt. "I can eat your pretty pussy all day. For hours and hours."

"I won't say no to that, professor.” Her desperate hands dig into your scalp to hold your face right there, exactly where she wants, where she needs, gasping when her hips grind down against you. "Fuck, your tongue is so, so good."

This is your favorite part about going down on her, being trapped between those perfect thighs that squeeze and tremble while you sloppily eat her out, drowning in her heavenly aroma and all this nectar, her delicious pussy that tastes even better the longer you indulge. 

It's never enough though, no matter how much time you get to spend with your tongue buried inside her cunt, or how many times she cums all over your face—the taste of her is heaven, and you love turning this girl into nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mess who can’t even think straight. 

"Just like that, professor, fuck, don't stop, oh my god, don't fucking stop, please—“

She whines so freely while grinding down hard against your hungry lips you can hardly breathe. Not that you have any problem about that, because you know exactly where Arin is, can feel those thighs vibrate all around you to know those limits are about to be surpassed, and you don't plan to let up for even a moment.

You ramp up your efforts in devouring her cunt without a moment to rest, your tongue all over her clit, sucking so harshly, so relentlessly, drowning in these delicious juices. It’s obvious how Arin's hips can't stay steady for a second longer, seconds from losing herself entirely. "Professor! Fuck, I'm so fucking close. Keep going, keep—oh fuck, right there, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck—"

Arin bucks her hips into your face with wild abandon, her juices smearing across your lips when you bring her to the verge of release, until she finally topples over completely. 

Everything goes muffled while she keeps her thighs squeezed tightly around your head, violently trembling throughout her orgasm as you lick her through the entire thing. Like every other time you've brought her over that blissful edge, it's beautiful, turning your face into a mess, and you greedily lap up everything that freely spills into your mouth from her overflowing cunt. 

When those thighs let off and relax, you look up at Arin's blissed out visage, completely enamored in the pleasure, shivering and trembling with a high-pitched squeal as you give her clit one more loud slurp for good measure. Your focus then shifts back to her messy folds, delving deep into them to clean up those juices she's gushing so profusely, a never ending stream of wet, sticky deliciousness. 

"Fuck, your cunt always tastes so amazing," you mutter, lapping at the girl's slick covered thighs, getting out every drop that leaks out with a few soft licks. Arin stays motionless on the counter, looking straight up to the ceiling while her chest heaves, still seeing stars.

After indulging a little while longer, and spending all the time necessary getting those warm thighs mostly clean, there's only one thing left to do. Your mouth pulls away, but only so you can yank your pants down to your ankles, your stiff cock aching to get inside of her. 

"Gonna fucking ruin you, Yewon. Hope you’re ready for me to wreck that tight little cunt."

"When am I not? Please, give it to me already," Arin desperately pleads, pulling herself from her haze to look at the throbbing length you're stroking as her eyes beg you to sink in and fill her up. 

Sitting herself up on the sink, she keeps herself propped up with her hands planted behind her body, spreading her thighs apart as far as possible, with her wet cunt presented so lewdly and invitingly. "Shove that dick right in me, professor. Give it to me as hard as you can."

Without another thought wasted, you slowly guide the swollen tip of your cock past those drenched lower lips, groaning unabashedly when all this slippery warmth welcomes you deep inside. It's far too easy, how you slide into her, walls so dripping with arousal that allow this ache to dissipate when you effortlessly impale Arin all the way, right to the hilt.

"My god, Yewon, fucking love this tight pussy," you groan as her walls clamp down, holding you right inside that delicious grip with no plans to release you. 

She's so soaking wet when you start pounding away inside, each thrust coated in all those messy juices as your cock bottoms out every time. Your deep strokes make full use of her open shirt, causing her modest breasts to bounce as her back hits the mirror with each hard slam. Arin clenches around you with such an unyielding grip as you pump in and out, loving how rough you are, how forceful your hips are, moaning louder and louder, still sensitive from the previous release. 

“And I love being stretched on your huge fucking cock.”

There's not an ounce of mercy in your thrusts, just pure carnal lust taking hold. Her wet folds remain parted, taking the full length of your pounding shaft, every last inch driving into that slick little cunt without restraint. You take advantage of how her legs drape over the sink, grabbing her thighs, spreading them to give you more leverage to angle your thrusts deeper, and she kicks her heels off to give you even more control, allowing you to use her body however you please.

"It feels so good, professor," she says, while each thrust stays rough and deliberate, buried to the hilt in her wetness. "This cock of yours—is so perfect."

"That's because your cunt is made for it," you groan, sweat forming on her skin under your grip as your hips slam against her. It's absolute bliss, watching the way her entire body responds each time you sink in, hearing her soft whines that she’s unable to hold any back while getting fucked so mercilessly over this counter top. "You take my cock so well."

"Of course I do," she insists, the biggest grin on her face that gets interrupted with more moans. "I'm the professor's favorite student, after all."

"But definitely the worst one," you fire back, fingertips digging hard into her bare thighs all wrapped up in these sexy thigh high stockings as they jiggle with every relentless thrust.

"So—how many points is this?" Arin asks, bracing herself against the mirror when you pound into her even harder, every inch of your cock covered in her sweet essence.

"As many as you fucking want, Yewon."

"Then make it a thousand. I can use them on the next assignment, right?"

"Use them on whatever you want, the final exam even. So long as I get to cum inside you."

"Of course, professor. Fill me all the way up. Cum inside me as much as you fucking want," she says, and those tits bounce more hypnotically every time you pick up the pace, slamming deeper with more force each time. After every plunge balls deep, that tightness becomes more overwhelming, urging you to give your all, as if the sight of her all sprawled out and creaming on your cock isn't enough already. 

It's merciless. And your hips start to reach their limit, but Arin's desperate cries of pleasure become so loud, that she has no choice but to muffle herself with her hand, almost forgetting that this seldom used bathroom is still right by the science lab—and anyone could be lingering around. 

"Fucking fill me, professor. Empty your balls. Just keep—oh god, fuck, fuck," Arin whimpers, the limits of her body creeping up fast as your cock pistons so harshly in and out of her hot cunt. "Wanna milk every last drop right out of you, make you cum so fucking hard."

"Only if you’re good and cum on this cock, Yewon. Cum all over me, and I'll fucking fill this cunt up."

"Yes, god, yes," she says, practically falling back against the mirror while you brutally hammer into her at full force. She barely keeps the coherence when it all peaks, when you feel those impossibly tight walls clenching around your cock, borderline painful, forcing you to use every ounce of strength to not burst inside her just yet. 

"Fuck, professor, this dick is so amazing—I'm gonna cum all over it, all over your fucking huge cock," Arin says as her pussy squeezes the life out of your cock with every impale in that wet, intoxicating heat. A flood of her fluids almost forces you out, an absolute mess that drowns your shaft in slick rips through her body without any care, and all you can do is fuck her through it. 

Even when her orgasm subsides, and she somehow becomes tighter, wetter, easier to sink into, you don't show any remorse while fucking her tight pussy until you can't possibly hold on any further. 

"You're close, aren't you, professor?" Arin gasps between collecting her breath as the pleasure begins to fade, watching the struggle you're going through to hold it back. "I know you are. Please, let me have all that cum. Blow your fucking load in me, let it all out." 

That's all you need to be shoved straight over the edge, taking a few final strokes before that pressure builds up to a boiling point, and nothing’s going to stop you when you’re about to burst. “Yewon—“ 

Her name barely escapes before you’re throbbing, letting out all types of lustful grunts while her pussy smothers you in  warmth, offering the best place for such a messy release of seed that shoots out, coating her insides the way she begs for. 

Your cock violently pulsates until you’re left with nothing but orgasmic relief, unloading shot after shot deep inside Arin with the thickest spurts imaginable that empty into her warm little pussy. These tight, tight walls take every drop, welcoming such a huge load that’s even somehow stronger than what her mouth did to you earlier.  

There’s no way you could do anything else with how delicious she looks on this bathroom counter. With whatever remnants of energy are left, you use all the power in your hips until they lose steam, remaining inside her euphoric cunt that refuses to relinquish you. You ride out wave after wave, each spasm pumping more cum into her, all this intoxicating bliss that feels like it’ll never end. 

And truly, both of you wish it never would. 

“Professor…” Arin can barely speak between breaths, riding this collective high that fills the room with heavy panting, and sweat glistens on whatever bare skin her revealing outfit offers. You’re right there with her, caressing her thighs, her messy cunt wringing out as much out of you as possible, like it doesn’t want your cock to escape, even after your entire load is buried inside that delicious warmth. 

“Came so hard on you, professor, fuck... I love the way your cum feels when you push it deeper, all the way into my womb. Wanna keep it all here until you’re ready for round two.” 

"You're fucking insatiable, Yewon," you sigh, dropping Arin's legs back onto the counter, which relinquishes the intense grip you’ve held, allowing her body a chance to relax. When your breathing returns to something somewhat stable, you lean over to give her a tired kiss, one that’s easily returned with whatever remaining energy she has. 

“Can you blame me when your dick is this good? It’s only your fault I turned into such a greedy little cumslut.” 

“Or maybe you were already like that before I even met you…"

"Yeah. Maybe."

Arin looks away as she starts to giggle, giving you a perfect chance to kiss that exposed cheek. When she glances back, you share an impossibly long stare, one that goes on far too long without words until you lean in for another kiss—

One that gets interrupted by a knock at the door. 

"Hello? Is anyone there? Custodial services, I'm here to clean up." 

You must have angered some kind of god for this to happen two times in one day. Even worse, there’s no easy way out of this while you're still buried inside Arin, the least of your concerns as this creamy mess threatens to spill out. 

"I, uh—need a moment. Spilled something on my shirt that won't come out. Be out in a bit," you blurt out, barely thinking while you look around at the poor bathroom that's been defiled. Arin can't help herself, covering her mouth to help from not immediately bursting into laughter as she fumbles to button back up her shirt. 

“You’re such a bad liar,” Arin whispers, but you just roll your eyes at her, glancing over the sweat on her body that you’d no doubt be licking clean were the two of you not nervously waiting to see if this unfamiliar man outside will buy your story.

"No problem, sir. Take your time, I'll be back after.” The janitor shuffles his feet, and you listen carefully, wondering just how obvious the two of you were being. When you can no longer hear footsteps, you release the longest sigh, and slowly pull out of Arin, along with an utterly unreal amount of hot semen that spills out. 

"Can't believe he bought that," Arin sighs while hopping off the counter, where more of your cum gushes out as soon as she stands up. "Can't believe you came so much inside me, either."

"If I recall, you were quite literally begging me not to stop."

"No need to be smug about it, professor."

Arin does her best to look presentable in the mirror and fix her disheveled hair, shirt only half buttoned, and skirt a complete mess, but it all seems so futile. There's no real way to hide how she looks after getting railed over the sink relentlessly, or the cum still dripping all over her thighs that she doesn't even bother to clean up. 

"We should get out of here before he comes back," Arin says after giving her appearance a once-over, making any minor adjustment to try and fix how ruined she looks. "Shall I leave first, professor?"

The question has only one obvious answer, but you still can't form your lips properly to speak it. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."

"Oh? Am I forgetting something?" Arin asks while running fingers through her hair again. You step towards her, pressing into her back to wrap your arms around her tiny frame before planting a kiss on the side of her neck.

"Yeah—me. You're not leaving this room without me."

You notice her grin in the mirror as your lips graze her skin again, nipping right on that sensitive spot that makes her gasp. 

"Don't tell me you're wanting to go again. After we almost got caught. Again—"

"No, not yet," you say between kisses, drawing closer and closer up her neck. "Need a little bit more rest for that."

"You poor thing. Did my pussy wear you out that much, professor?"

"You can barely stand upright as it is," you retort, taking your mouth away from her neck for a moment. Arin stifles a laugh that turns into a moan when your hand creeps up her skirt to touch her dripping folds still leaking your cum. "You need this a lot more than I do."

"Is that so? Well—fuck," Arin moans, unable to hide her body betraying her words as she grips the edge of the counter when two of your fingers slide into her without warning, pushing a mixture of her nectar and the load you pumped inside deep into her messy cunt. 

"It's too bad I can't continue this," you say, and withdraw those fingers from Arin's clenching pussy that so desperately tries to keep them in to no avail. "Let's get out of here. But you're not leaving my side."

"If you insist, professor." Arin has no further words, fixing up her skirt while so much thick seed oozes beneath. "But isn't it a little risky to leave together?"

"Probably. But besides, even if somebody does see us, so what? There's not much they can do about it even if they can already tell what just happened. And what are you always saying—how much you love the risk?"

"Guess I'm rubbing off on you, hmm?"

"Not a chance, Miss Choi," you correct, causing that grin across her face to grow wider. "I'm just tired of sneaking around so much."

"Me too, professor." 

You turn to leave, opening the bathroom door to poke your head around the corner. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be anyone around, only a couple of students you don't recognize standing nearby chatting, paying no mind as you and Arin sneak out successfully together.

“Where are we headed?” asks Arin as she settles in right next to you, something that's going to take getting used to. 

"Dunno. Cafeteria is still open. Guess we can head there first."

"Not if it's still raining. It's a bit of a trek, isn't it?" 

"My car's right out front. And if we so happen to take a little detour..." 

"Now who's being insatiable, professor?" she asks, with this little teasing giggle in her voice. 

“What? Who said I planned on doing anything with you other than grabbing some dinner? You know, I don't think you've had anything in your mouth today but my—"

"Professor!" Arin's not used to your conversation being this open, or being on the opposite side of being so flustered. "Save it for when we're not outside! Or better, the back seat. With the doors locked, preferably."

"As you wish, Miss Choi. Besides, but there's nothing I rather eat than your—"

She desperately covers your mouth to stop any further words from escaping as you head to the parking lot, surprised to see there's nothing but abundant sunshine now. Even more surprising is the fact nobody looks twice as the two of you walk together. Maybe it's luck, or maybe everybody here knows damn well what happens on campus between you two. 

And maybe you'll stop sneaking around campus every day, finding just enough time to spend the last half of your lunch hour buried between Arin’s thighs while she tries to hold her moans. 

But maybe you won't. 

[yarnabee]

What kinks do you think the doctor would be into?

(I boldly ask as I sit in my bed kicking my feet like a schoolgirl whenever I see something about that guy)

OH ANON. i have a LOT to say about this. (me too anon i always twirl my hair and giggle like a schoolgirl whenever i think of him 😵‍💫) also: check end for a little note!

THE DOCTOR HEADCANNONS — THE THINGS THAT BRINGS HIM PLEASURE? (NSFW 18+)

tags/warnings; NSFW! MINORS DNI, gender neutral (pound town but with no mention of spesific genitalia! hell yeah!), dom! harley sawyer x sub! reader, impact play, degradation, predator/prey dynamics, dacryphilia, size difference (you know how tall his physical body is compared to the player? yeah.. 🙂‍↕️) rough and raw all day and all night long,

we all know how our dear doctor sees himself as some sort of god among men. he created something almost as perfect as life itself—someone with such intelligence and capabilities surely makes a difference than others of his own kind, no?

of course—such a narcissistic, apathetic, struck-up sociopath would need his ego to be constantly fed well. and sawyer has just the perfect prey to feed himself off.

what other source could he get it from if it weren't from you? you were his perfect little lab rat, his dearest prized trophy—someone he could easily break for his own satisfaction.

sawyer loves it when he gets to hunt for his prey. there's no victory sweeter than having you—a clueless, pathetic little rat—trapped in his so-called 'experiments', forcing you into oblivion as he watches your defenses slowly crumble before his eyes. oh, how he lives for the thrill of hunting—your figure cowering under his tall one, his grip on your neck tight enough to snap it in half. "shush now, little rat. you don't want to know what happens to noisy little rats, do you?"

it's also quite obvious how sawyer possesses some sort of sadistic trait: he finds it amusing to toy with those under his mercy. he loves hearing you plead, your cries growing desperate from his rough touches—hell, you don't even know what you were begging for in the first place. was it to make the pain stop? or is it because of the overwhelming pleasure? either way, sawyer feasts on the meek chants of his name as you beg him to be more gentle—your entire body twitching in bliss as he lends no mercy. he'd purposefully go faster, rougher than before—his hoarse chuckle echoing through the room with a following taunt, "lab rats don't get to decide what happens to them, do they? now keep me amused, little rat, i expect you to take it well."

his ego thrives the most when he finds you drooling over his mean, mocking words—oh, what a lovely sight it is to have your body tremble to such lowly words—he finds it amusing how you react so eagerly everytime he calls you worthless. the way his gentle voice coax his cruel words never fails to drive you insane, just enough to push you over to the edge. "look at you, pathetic little wretch. just a moment ago you were so confident, yet now.. nothing more than a worthless whore begging to repent, hm? " god, his voice will be the death of you.

sawyer loves pushing you to the brink of tears—there's something about seeing you in tears that.. satisfies him. he would purposefully rip his hand away from your aching core just as you were getting close to your high—earning him your needy gasp as your body trembles from the sudden loss of contact. oh, what a pretty sight it was to see you wail and sob underneath him, tears pooling on your lashline, soon making its way down to your cheeks. it almost had him.. pitying you. almost. sawyer would simply let out a chuckle, wrapping his fingers around your jaw tightly as he eyed the beautiful sight beneath him in awe. "now would you look at yourself, little rat.. you look like a pathetic, lost little puppy. it suits you very well."

oh, how your stomach dropped when you found out that your sobs and whimpers only pushes the doctor further to his edge—his actions completely unhinged as he uses you for his own pleasure. he'd slap your cheek across until it's burning red; leaving trail of bruises all over your body from his tight, clawing grasp; or gently grabbing a lock of your hair only to yank it roughly, holding your head in place as he carelessly uses you like a ragdoll. you'd scream, beg, wail, and sob—but those were the exact response he craves from you.

the size difference between you and sawyer pushes him further to the brink—realizing how he could easily snap you in half like a dried twig if he wanted to. i mean, his figure alone is almost as twice bigger than you are. god, how he loved seeing those delicate, trembling hands of yours reaching out to his arm for support as he presses your thighs against your chest into a mating press, pounding into you with no care as he constantly hits the deepest part of you, eyeing the bulge imprinted on your stomach—it makes you look like a little rat who dares to take more than what they can.

sawyer will make sure that everyone knows you belong to him. he wants everyone to see you as his little lab rat, his only to toy with and to use to his liking. he'll make it clear as daylight with the bruises all over your delicate skin, an impact from his rough claws—enough to even draw blood from it. he'll make sure to let everyone else know that it wouldn't end well if anything other than him dares to leave even the tiniest scratch on his dearest lab rat.

despite the roughness of his act, sawyer would never cross the line of breaking you apart. don't get him wrong though, the genuine act isn't simply out of the kindness of his heart—oh, that's even if he has any. he'll make sure to tend your wounds well, feed you with proper food, and make sure you get enough rest—all this just without the sympathy. all he knew is that broken toys are never fun to play with.

note; HEY GANG IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK LONGER THAN IT SHOULD !! honestly this isn't my proudest work, i feel like i can do better but dang the writer's block and uni assignments fucked me up real bad ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 so i wanna say sorry in advance for this work :( but i do hope this can still bring a lil treat to the table 🍴

[000-pawz]

press play! (bnd) ˚ · .

bnd as male leads , ot6 , fluff , slight angst , movie/film tropes, loosely (!!!) inspired by random movies/dramas/books i've seen and read (with song recs <3)

more under the cut!

a/n: me pretending that all of these are real dramas so i can escape into my silly little fantasy land >___^ <3 also thank you so much for 400+ followers!!! i know i haven't been as active lately, but seeing the sweet messages in my inbox and your genuine reblogs keeps me going for sure. i don't deserve all of this love and support, and yet, i've managed to find my place here. thank you guys!!! my little strawberries ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆<333

sungho ˚ ⋆｡˚ - the "i have no idea why i like you, but i do" lead

university, streetlights, jackets, sunsets, fond eye rolls, sharing books, lunch dates, faint smiles, polar opposites, long calls, gardens, bouquets, lattes, butterflies

to put it simply, you are somehow everything sungho tries his best to avoid in life. disorganization, clumsiness, carelessness, and above all, making a fool of himself; four things you seem to have perfected. you always show up to lectures 30 minutes late, panting heavily as you clutch your backpack to your chest. your professor and everyone else in your course is used to your tardiness by now, so no one bats an eye—but when the only available seat left is next to sungho himself, he starts to mind. first, you ask him for a pencil, and then, you ask him what’s going on, and then you ask him how his handwriting is so neat. sungho responds to you in curt words, never sparing a glance your way as he tries his best to keep his focus on the lecture. but you keep. asking. him. questions.

he knows that you aren’t dumb. you somehow managed to get accepted into this school under a rigorous major, and you haven’t dropped out so far, so there’s no way you don’t know how to keep up. in a way, he sees you as a little yapping chihuahua who laughs way too loudly, and he sighs everytime you wave brightly to him across campus, cupping your hands around your mouth to tell him to wait up so you guys can walk to class together. it seems as if you’ve already claimed yourself to be his friend after your limited, brief interactions. great.

somehow you always manage to find him when he's studying at a cafe, pulling out the chair in front of him to plop down and pester him about what he's up to (and you always manage to convince him to buy you coffee just so you can leave sooner). you purposefully take the spot next to him everytime you show up to class, nudging hi sfoot under the table so you can pull a funny face at him or sneak him a lollipop under the table.

sungho likes to believe that he’s indifferent to you. you’re just another obstacle he has to navigate through in order to finish his day. but he realizes you may have struck a little deeper into his heart than he originally thought when he notices you sitting solemnly on a bench on his walk back to his apartment. you’re dressed up in a nice outfit and he can tell you’ve put in a lot of effort to your appearance, but under the glow of the streetlights, he notices your smeared mascara and wet cheeks, your purse clutched tightly between your fingers. you’re mumbling to yourself as you fiercely wipe at your face with the back of your hand, something about “that asshole” and how you’re “so dumb”. sungho doesn’t know what comes over him as he hears those words, but he finds himself stopping directly in front of you, watching as you slowly tilt your head up to meet his eyes. 

“you’re not dumb,” he says, staring down at you with such sincerity. you sniffle a bit, tilting your head at his figure in a confused manner.

“sungho? what are you doing here?” you ask quietly, your voice shaky as you try to stop your tears.

“you aren’t dumb,” he repeats again. “it’s late. you shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

you don’t respond other than blinking owlishly at him. in this moment, he realizes how beautiful your eyes are, glimmering despite the tears pooling at your waterline. a cord in him strikes; he doesn’t like seeing you without a smile on your face.

sungho shrugs off his jacket before leaning down to drape it over your shoulders, giving you a soft smile before offering his hand out to you. “may i walk you home?”

and from that day on, sungho seems to have opened up his heart to you. he asks if you want to visit a cafe after class, helps you catch up in schoolwork, his eyes lingering on your bright smile—and each minute he spends with you, he falls for you more and more. he’s not sure how you feel about him; he can’t read you quite yet, and he’s not quite sure why he likes you so much, but he thinks it’ll be worth the wait, as long as he gets to be by your side.

˚ ⋆｡˚ riwoo - the "i'll look after you, no matter what" lead

bustling city, dinner dates, gentle hands, puppies, headlights, midnight talks, watching the stars, wishes upon dandelions, breakfast in bed

it’s riwoo’s second year working at this company—and subsequently, his second year dealing with his inconsiderate seniors and selfish boss. so when you, the new, sparkly-eyed intern, are assigned two giant stacks of paperwork to go through on your first day, riwoo immediately empathizes with you. when it starts to grow dark and most of your coworkers begin clocking out, you find yourself trapped at your tiny desk with at least 3 more hours worth of work to do. 

you’re basically falling asleep, your eyelids slipping shut every few seconds before you finally doze off. riwoo watches you from across the office and some part of him feels guilty at the thought of leaving you all alone here. so instead, he makes you a cup of coffee and brings you a snack, placing it quietly at your desk. he even leaves a few sugar packets next to the mug because he’s unsure of how sweet you like your drink.

and then he waits. he exhaustedly types away at his keyboard, his knee bouncing under his desk to keep himself awake. you finally wake up an hour later with a tiny yawn, stretching in your chair before sleepily blinking at the scene in front of you. he watches as your eyes widen at the coffee and snack before looking around the office, locking eyes with him above his computer screen. he gives you a small smile and wave, to which you return, mouthing out a ‘thank you’. if you’re going to be working overtime, he’ll be there with you.

and it becomes a thing. riwoo makes sure you eat as you work through the mistreatment from your boss, comforting you when you stress cry in the breakroom, taking you out for dinner when you clock out and making sure you get home safe with a small reminder to get some sleep. you find yourself falling his selflessness. he works through those sleepless nights with you, cheering you on with shy smiles and quiet encouragement. before you know it, riwoo becomes your rock.

as you wait for the bus to head home, riwoo jogs up to you, his chest rising and falling quickly as he attempts to catch his breath.

“riwoo, hi,” you greet with a small, tired smile. riwoo’s cheeks are flushed red, his hands tucked deep into his pockets as he returns your smile with a weak one. 

“hey, y/n. i just, um… i wanted to ask you something before you leave…” he starts, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. your bus is nearing your stop in the distance, so you stand, adjusting the bag on your shoulder.

“yeah, what’s up?” you ask, meeting riwoo’s eyes. they’re big and round, glossy as the headlights of passing cars speed by. your heart flutters in your chest at just the sight of him.

“i was wondering if i could take you out? on a date, i mean,” he stumbles out, pressing his lips into a thin line once the words escape.

“like a date date?” you clarify. you guys hang out all the time and you have to admit that you’ve started to want more. riwoo is the sweetest, most giving person you’ve ever met and you think you’re already in too deep.

“yeah. a date date.” at his words, your entire face lights up, quickly nodding your head as you answer. 

“i would love to.” right then, your bus pulls up to a stop, so you give him a tiny smile, motioning toward the doors. “ i’ll call you when i get home, okay?”

“okay. yeah,” he breathes out with the brightest smile on his lips. “get home safely.”

“i will!” you wave enthusiastically through the doors before they close behind you and riwoo watches you through the windows with a small smile until your bus disappears down the road, his heart light in his chest.

from there, one date turns into two. and then two into three. and then suddenly, you’re at his apartment playing with his puppies while he cooks you guys breakfast, the sunlight beaming through his sheer curtains. even if the weight of the world is falling on your shoulders, you deem it impossible to feel down around your ray of sunshine.

riwoo always waits with you for your bus, letting you rant to him about your day, or things you're interest in, or to just tease him about how he dropped a stack of papers that day. and you never forget to text him when you get home, going to sleep with a smile on your face as you reread the long paragraph he sends to you about how proud he is of you and how he can't wait to see you tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. in this big city full of hustle, bustle and noise, he is your solace.

jaehyun ˚ ⋆｡˚ - the "everyone wants me, but i want you" lead

road trips, rooftop hangouts with friends, bright smiles, street vendors, shared hoodies, soccer games, skateboards, sparklers, bonfires, sunny days

ever since you moved onto campus for university, you’ve had a crush on myung jaehyun. from his silly smiles, to his friendly nature, to his cute nose and cheeks. you like everything about him. the only problem is that everyone loves myung jaehyun—in fact, you can’t name a single person that doesn’t know and love him. so you’ve managed to keep your feelings to yourself for the longest.

you were in the same friend group from the very start, with your roommate dating his roommate, the intermingling of your circles was bound to happen. and in all honesty, you couldn’t wish for a better group of people to be around. you guys always go on road trips together, visiting different cities and towns to sightsee and explore. you attend jaehyun’s soccer games with your friends, cheering him on from the sidelines only to celebrate with drinks in someone’s dorm room after another win. the proximity is inevitable, and the first two years of college pass by before you can even blink. by the end of your second year, you and jaehyun became closer than you would’ve ever thought. but it always remained at that. close friends.

it’s the night of your friend group’s annual bonfire—something you’ve been looking forward to all year. you’ve been worrying about your future: what would happen when you graduate college, whether you would move away or not, would jaehyun ever like you back. but mid-summer is your favorite, especially when the tide is low, everyone has sparklers and drinks, and the night air is light and fun. your bathing suit clings to your skin after your friends had splashed sea water on your earlier, but you don’t mind it. it’s a break from your own thoughts.

you notice jaehyun sitting in the sand near the bonfire, shivering a bit, so you grab an abandoned blanket from someone else’s chair and skip over to him. when you drape it over his shoulders from behind, he looks up at you, his eyes scrunching up with the smile that overtakes his face at the sight of you. 

“hey,” he speaks, looking you up and down. you feel your body heat up under your skin, returning the smile with a small one of your own before taking a seat next to him.

“hey. you okay?” you ask, your eyes searching his face. usually, jaehyun is at the center of all the action, but tonight, he seems quieter than usual. the bonfire is warm on your skin, illuminating the sand in front of you.

“yeah, i’m okay. just thinking,” he says weakly, flashing you a tiny smile before looking back at the fire.

“about what?” you pry, bumping him with your shoulder. he looks especially good tonight, with his wet hair and soaked t-shirt, his tanned skin washed in a hue from the fire. you’re snapped out of your gazing when he speaks, though.

“you,” he says bluntly. he doesn’t look at you, but you’re staring holes into the side of head. 

“what about me?” you nearly whisper, your voice almost drowned out by the loud laughter of your friends at the shore. jaehyun watches the fire for a bit before he turns to look at you again, his eyes glimmering with something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“how pretty you look. how pretty you always look,” he says. you scoff at his words, bumping his shoulder again.

“stop playing around, jaehyun. i almost thought you were being serious,” you nervously laugh, looking down at the sand.

“but i am,” he replies quickly. “i am being serious. you’re beautiful.”

when you meet his eyes again, they’re boring into yours with an intensity you’ve never felt before. something so foreign and yet familiar at the same time. you can’t do anything but whisper a thank you before your friends are rushing over to drag you guys back to the water. some part of you is unsure of whether that was just another passing comment made by jaehyun. he jokingly flirts with his friends all the time. what difference would it be when it’s towards you? 

but when jaehyun texts you the next morning to meet him on the beach, and you see an entire picnic set up with flowers on the sand, you realize that maybe he wasn’t joking. he’s standing there with his arms awkwardly spread out in a ‘ta-da’ manner, a shy smile on his lips as you near him. the sun isn’t fully risen yet, so the sky is still slightly orange near the horizon. he looks softer like this, with his puffy morning cheek and his messy hair.

he confesses that your friends gave him the extra push to confess and helped him set everything up for you. over chocolate covered strawberries and french toast, he finally confesses that he’s had a crush on you this entire time and almost went crazy from keeping it a secret. the morning started with shy gazes, soft touches, and laced fingers as the ocean waves lulled you. with your head rested on his shoulder, you finally feel content. maybe the future won’t be so bad.

˚ ⋆｡˚ taesan - the "everything sucks, except you" lead

big school, skipping stones, handwritten notes, late-night bus rides, comfortable silence, dirty shoes, convenience stores, headphones, lingering gazes

han taesan always tries to stay out of the spotlight. he keeps his head down, his hood up, and his headphones on—in a way, he feels like if he can disappear from other people’s lives, it wouldn’t be so hard to disappear from himself either. he doesn’t have any friends, and if anything, people seem to act like he doesn’t exist at all. he’s okay with that. it’s comfortable. that is, until you come along. 

he’s not sure how he’s never noticed you at first. maybe it’s because you’re just like him; you stay out of the way, you don’t speak to anyone, and you’re simply going through the motions. he’s not even sure if you go to the same school. he first sees you on a late bus ride home, near the back. your head is leaning on the window, your face blank and solemn, with one earbud in your ear as you watch the passing city through a blur. taesan doesn’t know what it is about you that intrigues him. let it be the way your sweater is a few sizes too big, or the melancholic look in your eyes, or the way those same eyes meet him from across the bus, piercing and inquisitive.

he sees you again at the convenience store a week later, pushing around noodles in a cup with your cheek in your palm, staring down at your food with no intentions of taking a bite. even in the harsh lighting of the store, your face stops him in his tracks. your eyes follow him as he pretends to not notice your stare, his heart pounding in his ears with every movement. and when he makes it up to the counter to pay, you’re gone, as if you were never there in the first place.

he doesn’t see you again for a while; not until he runs into you on his walk home, sitting on a swing at a vacant park. your shoelaces are untied, and you’re watching the way they flow in the wind. your unreadable gaze intrigues him in ways he’s never felt before. he’s always told himself to not get involved, to not get attached, and to not get in the way. but his feet seem to have a mind of their own as they drag themselves towards you. the sound of his shoes against concrete catches your attention, and he watches with shallow breaths as you lift your head to face him.

“your… your shoes are… um, untied,” he stutters out, moving his headphones to rest around his neck before pointing at your laces. you don’t say anything, but you do follow his gaze down to your shoes, cocking your head.

“can you tie them for me?”

the request is odd, especially for the first words he ever hears you speak, but he finds himself unable to decline. he kneels down by your shoes before taking a quick glance up at your face, his palms growing sweaty with the way you watch him. with shaky fingers, he helps you tie your shoes before he stands back up, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“you, um… i see you around a lot. what’s your name?” he doesn’t know why he asks, but some part of him is overwhelmed by curiosity. he knows why he is the way he is, but with you… you’re an anomaly that eats at his mind. he wants to know you. 

“y/n,” you say quietly, looking up at him from your position on the swing. taesan nods with pursed lips, averting his gaze for a second.

“i’m taesan.” when he speaks, the corners of your lips perk up ever so slightly, nodding softly in acknowledgement. something about your faint smile makes his stomach churn and his head spin. he decides then and there that he would like to see you more often; and subsequently, your smile too.

“nice to meet you, taesan.”

“nice to meet you, too. y/n.”

from there, you guys meet every now and then. taesan likes to place his headphones over your ears to show you new songs, and you like to share earbuds on the bus ride home together. he slips little notes about his day in your pocket before you get off with a little p.s. to meet him at the park before sunset. you pick clovers and tie them together to make bracelets, sitting on the swings as you bounce conversation back and forth. 

there’s no judgment from the outside world in the little bubble that you’ve created with him. and if he starts falling for you with every curious gaze and passing smile, he barely notices the shift. with you , existing becomes natural. there’s no guilt, or shame, or need to hide from yourself. it’s you both against the world.

leehan ˚ ⋆｡˚ - the "i wouldn't mind living with you" lead

new to town, seashell necklaces, oceanviews, birds in trees, sunrises, midday strolls, the youngests in the neighborhood, cooking together, white t-shirts + flannels

it’s not easy living in a new town, far away from the city that you grew up in, but you can’t bring yourself to regret anything. you wake up the the sound of beach waves and boats docking, the grandmas of the neighborhood leave fresh food on your doorstep, and you get to gawk at the beautiful man that always seems to be at the shore collecting seashells. he’s the only person near your age in the entire town, but for some reason, you haven’t spoken to him yet. maybe it’s because of the way that he’s always alone at the shore, or running around the town helping everyone he can. 

leehan, they call him. a few of the grandmas have encouraged you to talk to him, saying that it’d do him well to have a friend his age. yet, something about him is unapproachable—let it be because of his long wavy hair or those flannels he wears way too often. you can’t place your finger on it. so you stick to admiring his bright smile from afar, taking in the way he speaks with fishermen as if he grew up in the water himself, or the way he assists the grandmas in caring their groceries home. he’s entrancing, moving with swiftness and speaking with intention. an aura of confidence follows him around like a glowing shadow. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a small, small crush on him by now.

you sit at the beach with your knees pulled up to your chest, the soft breeze kissing your cheeks as you gaze out at the water, the sun sparkling against its gentle waves. moments like these remind you why you moved here. your escape. although, you’re too wrapped up in soaking up the atmosphere to notice the figure moving to sit beside you, and the clinking of seashells is what pulls you out of your trance. you jump a bit at the sun block of sunshine, shielding your eyes to look up at the culprit. 

the handsome, handsome culprit who’s currently holding something out towards you with a small smile on his lips, the wind blowing his long hair into his face. in the midst of your shock, you manage to drag your eyes down to his hand—it’s a handmade necklace, made of white string and polished shells from the shore. the shells are an assortment of light blues, whites, and pinks, perfectly complimenting each other, replicating where the setting sun meets the sea. it’s gorgeous.

“made something for you,” he starts, his smile lopsided and charming. his head is cocked in a playful way, his eyes slightly squinted from the bright sun. he’s even more gorgeous up close. “y/n, right?”

“uh, yeah,” you stutter out, too distracted by the way the sun hits his face so perfectly.

“i realized i haven’t given you a proper welcome yet,” leehan speaks as he hands you the necklace, his voice deep and gentle. your eyes flickered back up to his sparkling ones, quickly shaking your head in dismissal.

“oh! no, it’s okay. i’ve seen you around enough times,” you laugh as you avoid his eyes again, running your fingers over the shells. leehan hums in response, his eyes watching your fingers. alone like this, up close, his atmosphere is affable and soft—nothing like the unapproachable man you’ve seen from afar. 

“so, are you liking it here? i heard you moved from the city.”

“i do like it here, actually. i couldn’t ask for more,” you speak, finding his eyes again. leehan’s are curious, sincere, and inviting in all the ways that makes you want to keep speaking. so you do. you tell him about why you came here, how you’re starting a-new and leehan, with a wide smile, offers to be your personal guide around town. 

you end up meeting up every morning for a walk by the beach, watching the sunrise as you exchange stories about anything and everything. leehan teaches you how he makes necklaces from seashells, his favorite recipes to cook, and where to find the quietest spots in town when you just need a break from it all. you’re falling for him—with his chivalrous, kind-hearted nature and warm smile—but you don’t mind it at all. you really do like it here; especially if he’ll be around too.

˚ ⋆｡˚ woonhak - the "i'm secretly in love with my best friend" lead

small town, childhood best friends, neighbors, growing up together, coming of age, grassy fields, tiny markets, bicycles, fireflies, shorts + graphic tees

woonhak's big smile has been a constant in your life for as long as you can remember. some of your earliest members are of making mudpies and catching fireflies in jars together, playing tag in the long grassy fields that border your town. you guys are partners in crime, drawing silly pictures in chalk outside of your neighbor’s houses or riding your bikes down to the store to buy all of the mango popsicles in stock with your pocket money. 

in your eyes, woonhak is just… woonhak. he is familiar. existing with woonhak was as easy as breathing to you. you remember teasing him when you lost your first tooth before him because it proved that you were going to be more mature than him, or when you took your training wheels off first.

your parents are best friends, and it also helps that he lives directly next to you. you guys have sleepovers all the time, using flashlights under the blankets as you pull funny faces at each other, sharing stories about past crushes or what show you’re currently watching. woonhak knows everything about you and you know everything about him.

your favorite spot to meet up is the flower field behind your house. the grass is so tall, it reaches up to woonhak’s chest, the flowers spotting the green with blooms of yellows, pinks, and purples. it’s quiet there, and you guys are free to discuss whatever and whoever. that’s where you are when you’re watching the stars one night with woonhak by your side, his arms tucked behind his head. you mirror him as you talk about something woonhak did earlier that week.

“you’re so cute, hakkie. still the same after all these years,” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand so your voice doesn’t echo too loud. at your words, woonhak sighs, a big one that catches your attention. “huh? what’s wrong?”

woonhak shakes his head, looking straight up at the sky. “i just… sometimes you say things and it reminds me that you still see me as a kid.”

you turn your head toward him at that in confusion. “what are you talking about?”

“y/n, what am i to you? honestly.” his words come out so quick, you don’t have time to linger on the sharpness in his voice. 

“you’re… you’re my best friend, woonhak,” and you’re telling the truth. the answer is simple. woonhak is your best friend.

woonhak is silent for a bit, the crickets and frogs in the distance filling in the lack of noise. his gaze is far off as he stares up at the night sky, his body framed by grass and flowers. for the first time in your life, you can’t read his mind and it terrifies you.

“we are best friends, right?” when he remains silent and your heart drops a bit. “woonhak?”

suddenly then, he turns his head towards you, the side of his face illuminated by the glow of moonlight. his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, his cheeks flushed red from the humidity of summer nights.

“what if i wanted to be more than that?” he whispers, his gaze locked intensely on yours. you feel your heart stop in your chest, your palms growing sweaty from more than just the heat.

“more… more than best friends…?” you repeat dumbly. it’s as if you’re short-circuiting, all of the words that were once on your tongue dying off one by one.

“i…” woonhak sighs dejectedly, turning back up to face the sky. “i like you. i like like you. a lot.”

at the words, something in you clicks. something about the way your eyes always linger on his bright smile when he shows up on your doorsteps at the crack of dawn. something about the way your stomach churned when that girl from fourth period asked woonhak out last year. something about the way he links your pinkies together when you walk side by side, and the way he cups your face when you cry to him, and the way he holds you with so much security and love.

your lips move faster than your mind, sitting up quickly to look down at him with a wide grin. “i like you too. i like like you, woonhak. a lot. too.”

you aren’t sure what any of this means for your relationship, or for your future—but as woonhak laces your fingers together to press a small kiss to the back of your hand, any worry or doubt dissolves with the wind. you’re here now with him and for you, that could be more than enough. more than you’ve ever dreamed of.

reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3

masterlist

[caitlinsnicket]

bob reynolds relationship headcanons

warnings: none, the filthy stuff is going to be in the other set of headcanons. maybe some angst

a/n: aaa i cant see him anywhere because my body immediatly reacts. its so stupid

masterlist | 🍉 | ko-fi

he doesn't mean to be a creep, and he hopes you don't think he is one, but he can't help but gravitate toward you at all times. he waits anxiously for you in the mornings before the two of you get together, and when you walk into the kitchen for breakfast, he lights up and sticks to your side. the only time he leaves you alone is when you go to the bathroom or go to sleep.

after the two of you become an item, it's difficult to get out of bed since he's a cuddle bug and loves your warmth. he helps you with your chores and activities, joins you in your hobbies, and suggests new things to do together. he knows you also need your alone time, as does he, but being with you feels so nice!

holding hands with him is probably one of the nicest parts of your day. they get clammy sometimes, and he might squeeze too tight, but they're warm and softer than one might think, and because of how happy he looks, it's worth it. the best part is when you feel him brush his thumb over your knuckles, which means he's at ease, and your heart stammers in your chest.

and every now and then, when it's quiet and it's just the two of you and he hasn't let go just yet, you bring your intertwined hands to your mouth and kiss his skin, ignoring bob's breath hitching beside you. you only stop once you've covered every inch of skin you can cover, and when you look at him again, his eyes are glazed and his breath is ragged.

he has a tendency not to look into people's eyes when they're talking to him, which is fine and no one is really bothered by it, but you try to get him more used to it. that's why, whenever the two of you are having a conversation and he's not looking directly at you, you gently pull his face up with your fingers, trying not to linger so the moment doesn't turn awkward (you can still hear him swallowing).

it becomes something like a routine, like saying hello to him in the morning: you push his hair a bit out of his face and brush your hand lightly, just to see him better. he's always elated and starts to purposefully avoid your gaze so you'll hold him more. with time, he learns to just ask for it, closing his eyes and almost purring from your soft touch.

there was one time when he almost stumbled to the ground after you finished touching him. you kept your laugh to yourself but couldn't help a smirk.

he's trying to get used to touch, and hugs between the two of you become a common occurrence. he's still a little rusty, feeling that his limbs are too sharp and long, not soft enough for anything. but you still pull him close, even when he squeezes too tight to the point of pain, or when it gets too hot but he's not ready to let go. you don't mind though, because he always smells like clothes softener and that pear shampoo you bought him.

sometimes you'll be working on something, reading a book, or just scrolling through your phone, and he'll rest his forehead on your shoulder or your arm—really anywhere he can reach. he won't linger for long (again, he doesn't want to bother you), just enough to ground himself and feel your warmth. sometimes you'll hold him to you a second longer, your hand threading softly through his hair.

once the whole asking for permission to touch you every five seconds is resolved, he seeks you out more often for it. he still hesitates a lot and sometimes will give up on whole conversations because he feels like he fumbled it, but with enough reassurance, not only does he get more comfortable with being affectionate, but he also starts to feel better with everything else. touch soothes him.

and like a laser pointer to a cat, if he's starting to spiral or finds that he can't focus, touching him anywhere his skin is exposed makes his brain shut down for a second, and then he starts to come back to himself. it works for everyone, but he only blushes if it was you who had to calm him.

when the two of you start sleeping in the same bed, you try to get up before him (it's not that hard. he either falls asleep right away and can only be woken up by shaking, or can't sleep at all). you take that moment of quiet, where he can't get too much into his head, to trace his features with your fingers. your touch feather-light, following the line of his nose and eyebrows, down to his cheeks and lips. by the time you get there, he's stirring awake and unconsciously kisses the pads of your fingers while mumbling good morning. sleepy bob is your favorite bob.

after the first few times you touch his hair, it becomes your favorite thing to do, not just because of his reactions (from mewls and whimpers to full-body shivers and giggles), but also because it was unbelievably soft and curly, and you just started doing it out of nowhere for your own enjoyment. you do it if he's crying, which either makes him cry even harder or stop after a while. and when he's calm and content, it puts a blush on his face, but he manages to keep looking into your eyes.

he starts kissing your cheek one day, testing the waters. of course, he was extremely awkward and managed to bump heads with you the first few times, but once you saw him coming, you put your face out in his direction so there are no more accidents. imagine his face when you start kissing him back, before leaving for a mission or thanking him for bringing you a cup of water. it's the highlight of his day.

when the two of you go to sleep in your room, he likes to hold your hand and face you, or for you to spoon him. it keeps him grounded, in the moment, and also because he just likes to be held (especially by you). in the morning, when the two of you start to stir awake, he rolls in your direction until his head is tucked in your neck and his arms are circling your waist. if he could stay like this forever, he would.

the getting-to-bed routine also includes kissing his shoulders before he lies down, and he loves it so much. sometimes he stands perfectly still while you brush your teeth, waiting for you to get into bed and kiss his shoulder before he finally rests. he does the same to you in the mornings, pulling you back to him to kiss your shoulder blade and wish you a good morning. he's a sucker for casual affection.

his hair was already soft when you met him, but after you started taking care of it (washing it thoroughly at least once a week, massaging it gently), it felt like silk. he sometimes asks you to wash it but apologizes profusely for inconveniencing you. the whole process is relaxing for both of you, and the gift of touching his hair makes it all worth it for both of you.

[rillian4e]

Are they dominant or submissive in bed?

ft& Childe, Wriothesley, Scaramouche, Neuvillette

Childe: For him, being the dominant one in bed is something he loves. Childe prefers being the one on top, doing the work while you lay there all pretty, taking it like the obedient girl he made you for him. That doesn't mean that he doesn't let you be the dominant one on occasion, he likes a challenge, be it testing his own limits or that of his partner. But most nights he is far too impatient for that, instead indulging his desires and rashiving you for himself. "Archons... you and your body—drives me crazy," whispering into your ear as he moaned shamelessly, before long releasing his fluids deep into your needy pussy. "Fuck—one more, baby, yeah?" one more would turn into two and then you both would lose count, knowing it would never really end up as only one more.

Wriothesley: As for the Duke of the fortress of Meropide, he is similiar to Childe except he is a patient man, he would let you be the dominant one, watching you struggle and end up pleading for him to help you which eventually turns into full-blown rough sex with him, just what you both needed. Wriothesley would adore taunting you when you try being dominant, it's in his nature to tease and all the more if it's his sweet lover, trying to switch things up in the bedroom. Most times it ends up with him, releasing his pent-up frustration on you, you gladly take it all—enjoying the way his fat length rams into your hole, the wet and squelcing noises filling his office. "Mm...are you close? Yes? Well, hold it, sweetheart. You don't deserve to cum yet, you need to earn it." Purposefully teasing you even as tears fill your eyes, the way he was pinching your nipples harshly not helping in the slightest.

Scaramouche: The dominant one. Nothing else needs to be said here, he doesn't like feeling vulnerable and having you be in charge, just feels so wrong to him. Due to him being a puppet, his stamina is insane and he isn't easy to please, so he would much rather be in control. He would have you spread out, legs wide open as he smirked at the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing. Normally he would tease you and make you beg but when he gets too impatient, he would simply enter you without any warning, adoring the way you moan in pain and pleasure at the stretch. "fuck...you're so tight—loosen up a little, will you?" His words wouldn't get any less mean, your fucked out expression only making him more turned on, his desire to make you break deepening.

Neuvillette: Sweetest man ever. He is fine with anything you want, you want to be on top? Your wish is his comman. You want him to be in charge? Of course. He would do anything for you, no matter how unreasonable of a request. You have him wrapped around your little finger, and you love it. Even when he has you in a mating press, ravishing your body and using you for his pleasure—which you absolutely love when he does. But on a typical day after completing the long piles of paperwork, he considers it a reward to have you bent over his desk, his big, fat cock fucking into your dripping cunt, that's the sweetest reward he could get. "You feel so warm...I didn't know I needed this, maybe I should have you as my reward like this more often, hm?" His sweet praises were music to your ears, telling you about how good you were doing for him. His soft groans and hot breath on your neck makes you all the more needy for him.

[emoisthenewemu]

YUTA OKKOTSU SMAU SERIES

SUMMARY: You think you are about to catch your stalker red-handed. Things don't exactly go as planned.

TEXT IN THE MIDDLE AND MORE PICS AT BOTTOM!

pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt6

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh no.

Yuta's heart is pounding out of his chest, he didn't even get to see your last message before he threw the phone out the window. He really hopes the device is not broken but then again maybe that would be for the best. Maybe he should just be brave and tell you the truth-you deserve it. You really do. He's never flirted with anyone a day in his life. Perhaps now would be the time to start.

That sentiment is thrown completely out the window (probably landing next to the phone) when he hears you knock on his door. He basically gasps for air, hunching over as he stares down at his feet. Ew, he needs to cover those up before you see them. He gets so caught up in his head, so insecure that he worries about every minute detail he has to offer. He attempts to fix the unruly mop above his head, throws on a muscle tank that he hopes you'll like. Maybe his arms will distract you from the mess that is his room. Shit, he should've cleaned instead of worrying so much about how he looks right now.

However, he does not need to remind himself about how sweet you are. You would never embarrass him, not purposefully. And you definitely wouldn't point out the fact that it looks like he's been rotting in here for days. It's quite the opposite actually, he's been so busy that cleaning up was the last of his worries. He lights a candle and hopes for the best.

You're in a cute oversized tee and shorts, you look comfy. Pink fuzzy socks peeking out of your slides that make him smile. You're so cute.

"Hi" He clears his throat. "W-what're you doing here?"

Your eyes widen and you chuckle. Oh yeah, what the hell are you doing here?

"Ohhhh uh you know...I was just...walking around. Thought I'd stop by and pay you a visit. Is that okay?"

"Y-yeah! Ts' totally okay"

Why on Earth did you have to fall for such a dork that stumbles over his every sentence?

Right, because you're one too.

"Sooo" You look around the hall, rocking back and forth on your feet. He seems to be surprised by your visit, maybe because you caught him red handed? You hope so at least and before you can even ask, he offers.

"Wanna come in for a bit?" He opens the door up a little wider and you accept. Your eyes begin to scan every single surface area of his room, narrowing as you try to find sight of a phone. A phone that does not have a matching charm with yours. You think you spot something on his nightstand but upon closer inspection you realize it's just a book.

Okkotsu is too busy grabbing random articles of clothing behind your back and shoving them into the closet to notice the fact that you are eyeing every square inch of the room.

You look down at your phone, the stalker has yet to text back. You look up at Yuta, whose back is resting against his closet door as he breathes heavily.

For the first time since you began whatever the hell this is between the two of you-you decide to be bold. "Yuta? I need to ask you something and I want you to be honest with me"

"Of course" He nods his head, moving a few steps closer, he takes another one back as he realizes he may be a bit too close.

You sigh, resting your weight against the side of his bed. "Is it you texting me?"

His heart has fallen to his stomach. "What do you mean?"

"You knoww....the stalker! Is it you?"

Okkotsu lets out a breathless laugh, practically sweating bullets by this point. He knows he is not convincing at all. At this point he needs to just hope for a miracle. "M'sorry yn" He trails off, body tensing up as in his mind you are already storming out of the room because he is such a creep. You're going to hate him after this.

And out of nothing but pure divine intervention your phone dings, a text message, from your stalker. You look down, then back up at him. It feels like your breath has caught in your throat. You almost look disappointed.

"It's not me" He lies right through his teeth. "Did you...want it to be me?" He cannot help but ask due to the defeated look on your face.

"I have no idea" You mutter, lips folded into a thin line as you cross your arms. How convenient, the timing of it all. The stalker doesn't text you back the whole entire time you're talking to Okkotsu but the second things start getting serious off goes your phone. It's definitely weird, yet you have no proof which would say it is him because here he stands right before you as another text rolls in.

Shit. Mission failed. Abort.

You're thinking up an excuse to leave when he steps even closer than before, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Well I said I'd help you, right? We can get back to looking if you want"

You shrug. "I dunno if it's even worth it. Maybe I should stop entertaining it"

You look sad, it makes him sad too. He feels like an asshole for lying to you, to your sweet innocent face that can do no wrong. Yet, this may be an opportunity for him to get what he wants. "Hey, don't worry about it yn. Probably someone who thinks they're just being nice" His hand has not left your shoulder, instead it brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. He's always wanted to do that. "If they don't end up coming around, it's their loss"

You nod again, eyes glued to the floor. You're really just trying not to stare at his arms, you wonder when he built so much muscle. "Yeah....probably just some weirdo"

"I still have to beat them up for you, right?" He attempts to lighten up the mood.

It works because you giggle, looking up at him with a smile. "Yeah and this guy's starting to piss me off so you better not go easy on him!" You look around a bit, feeling Rika's presence. "You too Rika! Let me teach you a little something about being a man-hater! You'll love it!"

"Promise I won't" He laughs, he likes it when you talk to Rika. Even if they are mostly just offhand comments he appreciates it. So does she, not that he would really ever know. "We both do"

"Good" You huff, just about ready to accept the L and move on.

"You wanna stick around and watch a movie?"

You raise an eyebrow, a bit too excited by the offer. You can't help but tease him. "Yeah! You gonna cuddle up with me or what?" You're only half joking.

He chokes on his spit, doubling over and coughing loudly. You laugh, it is a symphony to his ears. Sweet giggles rattle around in his head as he wonders how he ever got to be this pathetic. You play him like a fiddle. You may be a nervous wreck most of the time but you are thankful that he is far worse. It's almost too easy to get a rise out of him.

So the two of you get your snacks ready, you hop up in his bed maintaining a sizable distance between your bodies. Okkotsu notices instantly, the way you are seemingly avoiding any physical contact at all. Smushed up all the way against the wall of his dorm, legs criss crossed almost like you are afraid to get a little too comfy. He imagines himself saying it about twenty times before he actually speaks, plays out just about every possible interaction in his head, how he would play it off should you say no. As if you would ever say no to him.

"Thought you said you wanted to cuddle?" He teases, patting the bed beside him.

Your cheeks and ears begin to burn. You look away, it's your turn to become a flustered mess. "Ohh I was just being silly"

He sighs exaggeratedly, disappointedly. "Alrightt well I guess I'll just sit here by myself"

You playfully slap his shoulder, putting an end to his facade. The solemn look is swapped for a sly smile. "Not by yourself...I'm right here"

"Yeah well I forgot" He teases and you find yourself scooting a bit closer. You're still not close enough to touch him though and that's not close enough for Yuta. "Just...come here please"

He extends an arm out towards you, offering himself as a pillow. Your stomach feels funny, just don't throw up on him-you repeat to yourself. That would not be cute at all. You take him up on the offer, resting your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around him. You've never cuddled with a guy before, it feels nice. You did not think it would be so comfortable. You are silent for a while, both too afraid to speak.

Okkotstu feels like he has died and gone to heaven. He wishes that you never have to leave, that you could just stay in his arms like this for as long as he needs you. One of his hands runs up and down your arm, tracing every bit of skin that is available to him.

When his fingers find their way into your hair you knew you were done for, eyes fluttering shut at the soft affection. You sigh deeply, one that lets go of all of your worries. Sorcery, school, family, none of it really matters in this moment. Your mind is at rest for the first time it what must be months.

"Your heart is beating fast" You mumble sleepily, a last ditch attempt to play it cool. To joke around because this is all just so chill and normal and you'd hate for him to know how much you are actually enjoying this. For reasons unknown, you need to just keep your cool.

"So is yours" Is all you can remember hearing before drifting off into sleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

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LMK IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED!

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Accidentally Bring Up and Insecurity | Chan

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

The evening at Chan’s apartment was lively, filled with the hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses. You were mingling with the group, enjoying the company of friends and Chan’s younger sister, Hannah. She had flown in to help celebrate her older brother's success, and make a much needed visit to finally meet the object of Chris's utmost attention.

You guys had immediately hit it off, Hannah already talking about the wedding preparations- although Chris had yet to propose, since you had only been dating for around six months. Although, you both were for certain going to spend the rest of your lives together.

Needless to say the night had started off pleasantly, and continued to be pleasant until Chris made an unsuspecting comment.

As the evening had progressed, Chan and Hannah began reminiscing about their childhood and their close family bond to you. You wanted to know as much about Chan's family as possible, since Hannah had been the only one you had met so far. Chan was in high spirits as he talked about their family’s recent vacation and how close-knit they all were.

You listened to both of them, admiring the way they smiled the same and how they both had love and adoration pouring out of them as they spoke about their family.

Hannah then turned to you, and smiled.

"So Y/N, do you have any siblings?"

You opened your mouth to speak but Chan interupted, wanting to tell his sister all about his s/o.

"Y/N has siblings but they rarely ever talk about them. Matter of fact for the longest time I thought they were an only child." Chan said with a laugh. “Honestly, I never hear much about any of Y/N’s family,”

The casual delivery of Chan’s comment hit you hard. It felt like a sharp dismissal of your own family dynamics, and you couldn’t help but feel that your family was being trivialized or ignored. Your relationship with your siblings had always been a source of insecurity for you, and hearing Chan’s remark made those feelings painfully real.

You knew he intended to play it off as a joke; that he would never purposefully taske a low blow at your familial bonds- especially considering you didn't ever talk about your family, so he had no way of knowing just how much his words weighed.

Hannah laughed slightly and then looked over at you cautiosuly as you took a sip out of your wine glass. Chan was about to say something but Jeongin ran over excitedly with Felix, rambling on about something that Chris just had to come and see.

You took this as an opportunity to extract yourself from the conversation using the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom, feeling a wave of hurt wash over you. You needed to escape the situation and process the sting of Chan’s words, so you found a quiet corner in the apartment, away from the group.

Hannah, noticing your sudden withdrawal and sensing the discomfort, followed tentatively.

"Y/N?" She asked quietly. You looked up and smiled, silently thanking God that you hadn't shed any tears because that would have been extremely embarrassing.

"Hi Hannah." You said, trying to keep your voice even.

"Are you okay? You seem a bit...upset at what my brother said." She squeezed in next to you in the love seat you were occupying.

"I'm okay."

"You're lying." Hannah says blatantly, looking at you with a pointed look. "I'm not exactly sure what sturck a nerve, but just know my brither is dumb. He's a guy and you know guys do idiotic things sometimes." She says with a sigh. "But...if you want we can talk about it."

You swallowed and felt at ease with Hannah, which was strange considering you had just met a few hours ago. But you knew you could trust her.

"It's just...he's right about me never talking about my family. I...you know I just figured maybe he would have assumed my relationship with them was strained considering I don't bring them up often or especially considering that I moved away from them in the first place? Like...I don't know...it just...kinda sucked to hear him make that kind of joke?"

You continued ranting to Hannah and she listened attentively, while on the other side of the apartment Chris was searching for you.

"Minho have you seen Y/N or Hannah?" He asked the slightly younger member, who shrugged.

He made his way over towards the formal living room and saw you and Hannah talking animatedly.

He smiled to himself, happy that you were getting along so well with your soon-to-be future sister-in-law.

But that happiness immediately washed away when he saw you were crying.

He rushed over to you without a second thought, kneeling down in front of you.

"Baby, what's wrong? What happened?"

Hannah looked at her brother with a pointed look. "You can be rather dense big bro." She said sarcastically.

Chan looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Hannah took a deep breath, her tone careful. "The comment you made about Y/N’s family—saying it’s almost like they don’t even have a family—could be seen as dismissive. Saying things like that might make someone - in this case Y/N - feel like their family isn’t valued or important."

Chan’s face showed a mix of confusion and realization. “I didn’t mean to be hurtful. I was just commenting on our own family experiences and made a joke...”

Hannah nodded. “I understand, but sometimes comments like that can come across as more critical than intended. Comments like that might make someone feel like their family doesn’t measure up to ours.” Hannah looked at you, as you looked at Chris. "Which is nonsense. Because everyone's familial dynamics are different. You just have to take the time to understand the differences." Hannah wraps her arms around you, laying her head on your shoulder. "And Y/N will make our family even greater."

Chan’s expression shifted to one of regret as he turned to look at you. Seeing the hurt in your eyes, he gently took your hand. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize my words would come across that way. I never meant to suggest that your family isn’t important or that you don’t have strong connections. Although...I don't know about your family connections. I never asked and I'm horrible for that. I'm so sorry love.”

You looked at him, your voice trembling with emotion. “You're not horrible Chris. Don't say that. It’s not entirely your fault, I never open up about my family. I’ve always struggled with feeling like my family dynamics and the way my family functions aren’t as great as others’, and hearing that made me feel even more isolated. Even if it's true-”

Chris's face hardenened. "Its not true Y/N. Just because you're family may not be close, doesn't mean that they should be minimized to nothing by stupid comments like the one I made. And...family isn't always blood you know?" You smiled at the accent he had when saying "know". It was something that had made you melt for him so quickly after meeting him, and to this day still made your stomach flutter. "You have me, you have the guys, and now you Hannah." He said motioning to his younger sister, who looked up at you with a smile, still clinging on to you.

Chan’s face softened with genuine remorse. "I’m truly sorry for making you feel this way. My comment was thoughtless, and I should have been more aware of how it might affect you. Your family is important, and I never meant to belittle your experiences." Chan continued; his voice filled with sincerity. "I want you to know that I care about you and your family. I’ll be more mindful of my words in the future to ensure I don’t hurt you. And if it's okay with you I'd love to learn more so I can at least begin to understand."

Chan pulled you into a gentle hug, his embrace comforting. “You’re not lacking in any way. We all have different family experiences, and that doesn’t make yours any less significant. I’m here for you, and I value you and your family.”

The evening ended on a more positive note, with Chan’s apology helping to mend the rift caused by his thoughtless comment. Hannah’s intervention had been crucial in bringing the impact of his words to light, and her support was deeply appreciated.

Which you vocalized.

Along with Hannah's vocalization of Chris's idiocy.

"You can be such an idiot Chris." Hannah stated later on in the evening. The rest of the guys had gone home and it was just you, Hannah and Chris in his apartment.

You sat on the couch, waiting for your boyfriend to come back with some snacks for an all nighter cartoon marathon of Hannah's accord.

As the theme song of Adventure Time played in the background Hannah gave up on helping her brother set snacks on the coffee table and decided to come cuddle next to you on the couch.

Chris just looked in shock as his sister placed her back up against your shoulder, and kicked her feet out taking up the majority of the couch, causing Chan to squeeze in between you and the arm of the sofa.

Hannah mindlessly munched on snacks as the show played, her attention completely encapsulated with it, but Chris completely focused on his annoyance.

"Hannah you do realize that Y/N is my partner right?" He said with a huff, as you cuddled into him with a chuckle.

Hannah shrugged. "Yeah, but I could easily steal Y/N from you, I have so much rizz you can't even fathom it." She said without so much as a blink of an eye.

Chris huffed once more. "Y/N would never leave me for you."

Hannah snorted. "Never say never, Chris."

Chan looked at you as you smiled.

"You wouldn't leave me for Hannah would you jagiya?" He whispered quietly, thinking his sister was too engrossed with Jake making bacon pancakes to hear your hushed conversations.

"Never." You said quietly, pecking him on the lips.

Hannah held back the ogre-ish gag she wanted to give to tease you two, and instead smiled.

Silently agreeing with her brother that they had the best family dynamic.

Especially when you'd be joining it one day too.

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel

[sinsofnivan]

ani x reader smut

can't stop, won't stop. — Anakin Skywalker x YOU — SMUT!

SUMMARY: anakin just loves spoiling you rotten, buying you the things you want, giving you the things you want, and giving you all the pleasure you craved for.

all of it.

PAIRING: ANAKIN SKYWALKER/you.

WARNINGS: porn without plot, fingering, inappropriate use of the force, dirty talking, overstimulation, forced orgasms, save me service dom anakin, established relationship, au where the jedi council isn't really that strict yk.

WORD COUNT: 855

A/N: i can only think of one person that's name ani and that's my pookie wookie anakin skywalker. if that's not him, idrk who you mean . . . crossposted on my AO3.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

your cunt squelched ridiculously loud as anakin slipped his fingers in and out of your slit, his digits coated with your addictive essence. you laid on top of your boyfriend, back resting on his chest, and your body secured in place by his metal hand; squeezing and toying with one of your nipples. "ani," you squirmed, and anakin only shushed you as he licked and gently nipped on your cheek. "shh, baby," your body writhed, back arching beautifully—and anakin wished he could see it from above. 

"you don't want obi-wan to hear you, do you?" anakin whispered in your ear, a tongue tantalizingly running over the delicate shell. "or maybe you do . . let everyone in here know that you're mine," his laugh rings in your ear, and you gasped when you feel a thumb run over your soaked clit. "you like that, baby? you're clenching around my fingers so tight," before you could even say anything else, his fingers began to pump into you in an ungodly pace—and you had to slap a hand over your drooly mouth to keep the noises at a minimum. 

the tips of his fingers kept hitting in all the right places, curved upward to keep grazing against that spongy nub that made your eyes cross. a cold, familiar sensation circled around your clit, but it's not his fingers, no—you knew his fingers better than that—and you can only assume it's him using the force on you. the hand on your mouth is useless because you squealed when you feel your clit being gently pulled and pinched. "anii . . ani—! stars, oh my stars," 

"yeah? y'feel good?" you could only nod, mind only focusing on this bliss he could give you. "it feels good—love it when you fingers fuck me!" you babbled. "i don't believe you. if you really felt good—," you feel a suckling sensation on your clit, and you're left stupefied and slack-jawed. "if you really felt good, you're gonna cum. gonna make a mess all over my fingers," "but i'm not—'m not close yet," "oh, but you are,"  he cooed, doubling the intensity on your clit. "you are, baby. don't you feel that?" 

and you were at a loss for words.

coherence forgone, all you could do was stammer anakin's name. you hadn't even noticed he moves beneath you, making you wrap an arm around him as he captured your lips. it was sloppy—your tongue only languidly glissading over his. it's messy, and anakin did most of the work, but he's not complaining. he loved you like this. "come on, baby. don't you feel good? do you want me to stop?" he won't stop, of course not, but he wanted to hear how much you needed him. it always made his cock twitch under those restricting undergarments.

"nooo . . no p , please,"

there it was. his precious girl. "then you're going to cum for me, baby. you know y'wanna," another curl of his fingers against your sensitive spot makes you wail and sob, your orgasm spraying everywhere all over his hand. "theeere you go . . " anakin had his eyes affixed to your pussy—how his knuckles were glimmering with your essence, and how your cunt gushed with every slide in of his fingers. "there we go uh-huh. that's it," he kissed your temple, encouragement whispered into your ears—though, you haven't processed his words yet. and he didn't stop there, no. 

he would purposefully slide his fingers slowly, and shoving them back in swiftly and forcefully, coaxing small fountains from you. 

and you? 

you were a drooling mess—eyes barely open and only whining when anakin was riding your orgasm out with his teasing fingers. "i knew you could do it, baby." he purred, capturing your lips once. "what do you say?" "th , thank yo—♡?!" your words were abruptly cut off, his fingers began to fuck into you again, with your squirt making it easier for him to reach the deepest parts of you; the sucking sensation back on your clit—and more intense than ever. your eyes were wide, legs beginning to quiver from overstimulation, but you could feel phantom hands keep your legs spread. "a , anii—♡! m, my cunt—!"

your moans echoed around the room now, and probably outside those thin walls. he didn't care if passersby or obi-wan or whoever the fuck else heard anymore. "yeah? what's wrong with your cunt, baby? c'moon, tell me." "cunt's feelin' s, sensitive—oh my stars,♡!" "aaw, you poor thing . . . think y'just need to cum, Y/N." that thumb brushing over your clit is not a coincidence, and a grin quirks up on his lips when you screamed his name, your body doing as he says and cumming hard.

his pace doesn't stop this time, and your pussy ached with oversensitivity—and anakin could see it from how your hips bucked, trying to writhe away from his merciless fingers. "do you want me to stop, darling? want these fingers to leave your cunt empty and cold?" and oh, you precious thing. anakin couldn't stop himself from chuckling as he watched you hesitate, and then shake your head. 

"that's what i thought . . give me a kiss, baby," 

end.

A/N: i will make a part two of this, but i just want to let people know that i accept requests! <3 thank you for reading!

[crowhyun]

gym rat taehyun who you end us seeing frequently at the gym whenever you’re around too and he starts helping you out on some of the stuff and sexual tension and then BAM, sex

a/n: I haven't written smut in so long so please bare with me 😭 I'm trying to get back into the groove of it but I've kinda lost confidence though I hope that doesn't show in my works lol. I hope you enjoy this, anon, and thank you for requesting!!

Warnings: smut, pnv, exhibitionism, unprotected sex but hyun's pull out game is top tier, I would know

WC: 1.8k

The gym a few blocks away from your apartment was always too crowded for your taste. Midday was the worst, with every piece of equipment occupied, and the ones that weren't were a sweaty mess due to peoples' lack of politeness.

Though, around 10PM was always the best time to go. It was much less crowded, and it was almost calming, in a way.

You, along with a few other late night gym rats, took this time to your advantage. The gym was nearly empty, and hip-hop music played quietly from the speakers. The sound of equipment moving and barbells clanking was miniscule compared to how it usually was.

Though, you'd be lying to yourself if you said that that was the only reason you came to the gym at that time.

Your other reason - your main reason - was currently at the pull-up bar, biceps bulging and sweat dripping down his clear skin as he effortlessly hoisted himself up on the bar. You were quite familiar with this man, or at least as familiar as you could get from afar. Without fail, he'd always be at the gym at this time, always alone, and ever so efficient in his workouts.

You tried not to stare as you leisurely stretched. You weren't in the mood for heavy lifting or cardio, yet you were fully intent on boy watching.

After what seemed like over a dozen pull-ups, the man hopped down from the bar, turning around with a hand on his hip to grab his towel, and you quickly looked away to not get caught ogling. To look busy, you continued with your stretching, doing basic stretches to pass the time. You were so distracted trying to look busy that you hadn't even noticed a certain someone approaching until you heard his voice.

"Your form isn't good." He said, causing you to flinch and sir upright, staring right at the man who was sipping from his water bottle.

Is he talking to me?, you thought. Though, he was obvious who he was talking to, due to his large brown eyes seemingly piercing into your soul. "...huh?" Was all that you could muster out.

"Sorry." He apologized, screwing his water bottle shut. "I don't mean to bother you, but I just thought that I should tell you that your form isn't very good. You might hurt yourself."

Your lips went into an O-shape as you realized what he was saying, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You fully expected him to just walk away after that, but he spoke once more.

"I can help with some stretches if you'd like." He said. "I'm no personal trainer, but I know a thing or two."

"Oh...you'd do that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you inwardly fangirled, knowing that this was the perfect opportunity to get closer to the man you've been crushing on.

"Yeah, of course." He nodded, placing his water bottle down and coming closer, your heart beating a mile a minute. He gave you a sweet smile before he bent down to your level, and you got a close up look at his sweaty skin and well built arms, causing you to shiver in anticipation.

"See, when you're doing lunge stretches, you have to make sure your back is flat and your core is engaged so that you can keep your balance." He said, his voice soft, though the near emptiness of the gym made it seem as if he were loud and clear. He got into position beside you, showing off the proper way to stretch, and you followed suit.

Throught the stretches, you had learned that his name was Taehyun, and he was pretty flexible himself. You may have even purposefully made yourself seem incompetent in your stretches so that he wouldn't leave anytime soon. It was getting later and later, but you didn't want to go home - not yet.

"Hamstring stretches are a bit harder, as most people don't stretch for long enough." He informed you, gently pushing you onto your back. "How flexible are you?" He asked, helping you to hike your leg up. You were hyper aware of the feeling of his strong hands on you, and the change of position nearly made you dizzy.

"Uh, maybe moderately?" You spoke, clearing your throat in an effort to sound like your panties weren't starting to get damp.

"Moderately?" He chuckled with a slight tilt to his head. "We'll see about that then, yeah? Just tell me when it's too much." He said, his hand circling around your calf as he started to slowly push your leg up...up...and up.

You winced a bit, the stretch starting to get painful, but you were too distracted by how he placed his other hand right on your thigh.

"There you go." He encouraged, your leg straight up and pushed against his shoulder as he kneeled down in front of you. "How're you feeling? Think you can go a bit more?"

"I can definitely feel the stretch." You chuckled, your heartrate beating a mile a minute. "I think I can go further, though."

With that, he started to slowly push your leg up once more, your thigh almost touching your chest. "Hmm, you're pretty flexible, aren't you?" He spoke, and you don't know if it's the rising desire within you or not, but his voice was starting to sound more...intimate.

"I didn't...I didn't realize before now." You said, finding it hard to breathe.

"Good thing you have me here then, huh?" He smirked, the sight making your walls clench around nothing. He then started to slowly lower your leg before doing the same to the other one. Your breath hitched at the stretch, and you winced.

"Fuck..." You whispered, unable to keep it in.

"Just a bit more, you got it." He said, his whisper matching yours as he stretched you further. His torso pressed against your leg, and you couldn't help yourself from taking a peek down between your legs. Truthfully, you just wanted to make sure you didn't completely soak through your leggings, but instead, you got a glimpse of what Taehyun was packing. The dim light of the gym reflected on the bulge in his gym shorts, and you literally felt your heart beat in your clit.

You quickly looked back up, eyes slightly widening, just to see that he was making eye contact with you. There was a certain gleam in his eyes that told you that he knew exactly what you were looking at.

If that didn't tell you enough, then his next actions did.

Stretching your leg so that your thigh met your chest, he positioned himself so that he was pressing up against you, and your breath hitched once you felt his bulge directly press against your clothed heat.

Shit...he's so close.

"There you go..." He said, his voice dangerously lustful. "Now you're all stretched out for me."

You weren't exactly sure when the switch flipped, and at this point, you didn't care if you were soaking through your leggings or not. You weren't crazy, his voice definitely held some underlying tension there, and neither of you could hide from it.

"Now that you're all stretched out, you can work out safely, no matter how hard."

Next thing you know, your leggings were hanging off of one leg, and your panties were pushed to the side to accommodate for how Taehyun's girth was stretching you out in a completely different way.

Sweat dripped down the strands of his wet hair, and your leg was hiked up on his shoulder, ensuring that you had no way to hide from just how deliciously he was rocking his hips into yours.

It was a caconaphy of hushed moans, grunts and whimpers, the sounds of your bodies colliding. You but your lip harshly to try and silence yourself even though you were pretty sure the gym was empty at this time. Taehyun's cock ruthlessly massaged your g-spot with each thrust, and he groaned in ecstacy as your nails dug into his arms in order to brace yourself.

"Ah- ah- ah-" Staccato moans left your lips as your body jerked each time his tip slammed against that spot within you, his pelvis hitting your clit over and over again.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He groaned, his brows furrowed in concentration, solely focused on fucking you dumb on his cock.

A loud keen ripped from your throat as he slightly adjusted his positioning, his cock hitting so deep inside your fluttering walls. Your hips bucked up and your other leg lifted, the urge to close your legs and run away from the numbing pleasure growing greater.

"Nuh-uh." Taehyun tsked, shaking his head as he roughly spread your legs, his cock pushing deeper inside of you. "C'mon, you can take it. Take this cock." He grunted, gifting you with a particularly harsh thrust that had you reeling.

Your head fell back on the mat underneath you and your thighs shook. You could feel his cock throb inside of you, his low grunts only driving you closer to the edge. You then gasped loudly, your jaw dropping and your body tensing.

"C-cumming, I'm cum-" You stammered out, only to cut yourself off with a high pitched moan that would've been impossible for you to keep in. Your pussy walls clamped around Taehyun's thick shaft like a vice, and he felt like he was seconds away from absolutely losing it at the way your fucked out face contorted into barely concealed pleasure as you creamed all around his cock.

He wrapped his hands around your wrists, holding you down as he pumped faster, his balls tightening as he saw completion on the horizon. "Mmmh, that's it...cum on my cock just like- hah- that." He groaned, his jaw clenching as his blunt nails dug into your wrists, and before he knew it, he couldn't take anymore.

He was quick to pull out of your tight heat, which was almost painful, but that no longer mattered to him, because his hot, thick cum was spurting out of his glistening cock and onto your stomach. The hottest whine left his throat as he came down from his high, his chest heaving up and down, and his eyes darting down to your fucked out form.

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed, the only sound being the low volume of the music playing through the gym speakers and the sound of the both of you catching your breaths.

"Well, uhm..." He suddenly spoke, clearing his throat. You noticed that he was avoiding eye contact, and the tips of his ears were tinted red.

Was he...embarrassed?

You fought the urge to laugh as he continued.

"If you just, uh...do those stretches before every workout, you should be good to go." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Thanks..." You spoke, your voice a bit hoarse. "For helping me stretch...and for the little present you gave me." You said, referring to his seed that was splattered across your stomach, seeping down to your belly button.

His eyes widened and he choked, almost as if he forgot that he had came on you.

"I'll...deal with that."