#and I realized she is the only person who would see me today

[barbiiecams]

„need to know“ was so good omggg!! i literally wanted JD to find out and playfully slap his head „don’t even think about hurting her“💀🫣🤭

good over here

drew starkey x reader, proof im not dead! pt 2 to this.

you and drew have been together (sneaking around) for 2 weeks now. nobody has suspected a thing, and you were blessed to keep it that way.

not only this, but you also befriended odessa. you had your doubts about her, but she was actually chill and didn’t see drew like that at all. thank heavens.

not even she knew about what you two had going on, so currently, this was top secret.

right now you were at his apartment, cuddled up on top of him in the living room and watching princess and the frog on his tv.

“when do you think we should tell everyone?” you randomly said.

drew looked like he was in serious thought for a second. “maybe when your brothers dead? not sure.”

you laughed and hit his chest jokingly, him joining in too. it was still a new relationship, and there wasn’t a single soul to know yet. but you lowkey really wanted to show him off and vice versa.

his hand was massaging your head as the other rested on your back, and it was most definitely making you doze off every few minutes.

but you loved it so much. he was really your peace, and you were glad you didn’t give up on trying to convince him to give you a chance a couple of weeks ago.

you were dozing off a lot, really tired from previous activities. but you ended up staying awake after hearing a knock at the door.

drew’s eyebrows furrowed, signaling that he was just confused as you were.

“were you expecting someone today?” you asked him. but before he could answer, the person on the other side starting knocking again.

“open up! it’s me and austin!” the voice yelled. and you knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

JD. your brother.

you couldn’t help the gasp that came out of you, then came drew quickly putting his hand over your mouth.

‘go upstairs,’ he mouthed, and all you could do was comply.

hurrying up the stairs, drew took off the the door. “damn, i’m coming!” he says while taking his time over to the door, just to ensure you were upstairs before he opened it.

you silently listen to their conversation from his bedroom. “what happened to asking if you can come over?” drew says. you can hear austin’s and JD’s footsteps walk into the apartment.

“pfft, like you care. what, you got a girl over or something?” austin teases, and JD snickers.

“what if i did?” drew responds. your eyes immediately roll at the fact he would say that knowing how damn nosy your brother can be.

“oh shit, MYSTERY GIRL, COME OUT HERE!” JD yells out into the house. you hear a slap then your brother saying “ow!” right after.

“nobody’s here, dimwit.” drew shuts him up. you then hear the three of them pull chairs out and sit, and you let out a quiet sigh knowing you were gonna be hiding for a long time.

because of this, you tuned out their conversations. you just used your phone, played with random stuff in his room, and also made mental notes to steal a few of his shirts once you could finally leave.

seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into an hour, and you were still sitting up in his room bored out of your mind. your weekly princess and the frog rewatch shouldn’t have been waiting this long.

you started watching TV in drew’s room, making sure the volume was low enough so that they couldn’t hear it, but also loud enough that you would still be able to.

but it must have been just a bit too loud, because you didn’t even realize that JD was now upstairs using the bathroom.

and you didn’t realize until it was too late.

you heard the toilet flush and the water finish running, but you didn’t even get the chance to process that before you heard your brother’s voice basically teleporting to drew’s room.

“he must still have my damn-” JD cuts himself off when he opens the door and sees you crisscrossed on the bed, frozen at the sight of him.

“y/n? the hell are you doing here? in drew’s room at that?” his face is plastered with confusion.

“umm…” was all you could get out.

“bro drew! why is y/n in your bedroom?” JD calls out to him, and austin immediately starts laughing.

“shut the fuck up.” drew says to austin before hurrying up the stairs. you literally didn’t know what to do. there was no excuse, no reason, no lie you could come up with as in to why you were in his house. let alone his room.

when drew made it upstairs to the entrance of his bedroom, seeing you in the same crisscrossed position you’ve been in, he started laughing.

“the fuck is so funny?” JD starts to raise his voice, and now austin was up the stairs himself wanting to see the scene with his own eyes.

drew walks over to the bed and sits down with you. “i guess we gotta tell him.”

this makes you giggle, “okay.”

“tell me what? don’t play with me. y/n i told you-”

“oh my goshhhh you don’t own me! i can date whoever i wanna date.”

“DATE?” your brother yells and austin’s jaw drops.

your eyes widen but the quickly relax as you put a hand out. “okay first off chill.”

JD was about to respond, but you were quick to start talking again. “years ago when i was 18, i could understand why it would’ve been a little wrong for me to see him. i’m 21, JD. if i wanna date a 30 year old i can.”

you can see drew’s face cringe from the corner of your eye, “well don’t say it like that.” you give him a quick look about his comment and austin busts out laughing once again.

JD glares at his other friend standing beside him then back to you. “i still don’t see how this is funny.”

you get up and walk over towards him. “i know you still see me as an annoying little sister who you need to protect at all times, but im really in good hands! drew is a great guy, wouldn’t you want me to be with someone like him?”

JD doesn’t respond. he just stays silent for a moment before speaking up. “that age gap don’t bother you?”

you shrug then sit back down. “i needed an actual man anyways.”

drew and austin both start chuckling once again when you say that, but your brother doesn’t find that funny and instead his face just shows disgust.

“whatever. that doesn’t explain why you’re in his room? hiding?” he says.

“it most definitely does. because look it how you reacted.” your eyes roll again.

the cat got your brothers tongue once again. but this time, he lets out a final sigh. a sigh that sounds like acceptance.

“does anyone else know?” he asks

you shake your head. “just you guys now.”

your brother nods, getting over his hinge of anger and not staying mad any longer.

“okay well, you can join us downstairs… i guess.” he speaks up after a few seconds of silence.

getting up from your spot and walking over to hug him, you chuckle at his small hesitation to really accept it even tho he has no other choice. you then make your way downstairs, austin and drew following behind you. before drew could leave tho, JD drops him.

“drew, im telling you man. if i ever have to hear her upset or crying over you-”

“don’t worry,” drew lets out a nervous laugh with his hands up in surrender. “she’s good over here.”

—

drewstarkey

liked by madelyncline, madisonbailey, jonathandaviss, and 600k others

drewstarkey: hard launch

view all comments

madisonbailey: OMG???

madisonbailey: WHAT

madelyncline: THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT??

carlaciagrant: @yourinstagram girl you fakeee 😭

yourinstagram: sorry twinnnn 😔

jonathandaviss: i guess we can consider this picture from an angle in a certain person eye adorable.

drewstarkey: hater

user66846: who is she??

drewwwwstarkeyyfan: jd’s little sister i think

imaafannnn: well this is random 😭 she’s mad pretty tho

obxxluvrrr: A WIN IS A WIN 💯

austinnorth55: i feel special i knew before everyone else

odessaazion: finally seeing you with a baddie 😩

[moonstruckme]

James Potter or tasm!peter parker fluff or comfort?? I dont mind whatever you write ill love 🙏🙏

Thanks for requesting :)

cw: implied past abuse

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Peter’s having a rough week. These things always seem to happen to him. He’s got a big presentation at work on Friday, by which time the project he’s been underfunded and understaffed for has to be finished. His Aunt May has been busy with work, too, so either you or Peter is at her place most nights trying to help out, except she seems to think when it’s Peter it’s familial responsibility but when it’s you it's an unfair burden, so it’s mostly been Peter. There’s also an impressively organized cell of criminals he’s been trying to investigate before they blow up a bank or something. So of course, he’s sleep deprived to boot. 

And while you know the rough edge of frustration in his voice isn’t meant for you, hearing it makes your skin tighten nonetheless. 

“How does a person run out of salt?” Peter stalks through the front door and straight into the kitchen. “Or maybe the better question is, why does it take going to three bodegas to find one with salt in stock?”  

He’s soaked from the rain, and you feel guilty for being all cozied up on the couch while he’s been running around the city. Maybe it’s irrational, but you feel sort of like you should have been stressed out and cold all night, too. In solidarity. 

“May didn’t have salt?” you guess as Peter opens the fridge, stooping low to peer inside. 

“You should see her pantry, babe. It’s like everything either expired at the turn of the century or got bugs in it. Hey, did you make anything for dinner?” 

“No.” You hesitate. “You told me you wanted to eat at May’s, so I had the leftovers from last night.” 

“Shit.” He closes the fridge, resting his forehead on the door. “You’re right. I totally forgot, I only made enough for her.” 

“I’ll make something now.” You stand. Peter gives you a look that conveys both apology and gratitude as you join him in your small kitchen. “You feel like pasta?” 

“Thank you,” he says, kissing the top of your head lightly. 

“Course,” you murmur. Really, it feels like the least you can do. “Would you mind chopping up some basil?” 

“For my own dinner?” Peter teases. The levity in his voice is obviously forced, and the air between you heavies as he realizes you’ve heard it too. 

You almost don’t want to ask, but you do want to be a supportive girlfriend. You can lend him a compassionate ear. “How was work today?” 

He sighs, grabbing the cutting board from a cabinet near your feet and shutting the door with perhaps a tad too much force. 

“It was…ahh.” He scrubs a hand through his hair, stooping again into the white fridge light to find the basil. It casts dark shadows underneath his eyes. “You’ve gotta be sick of hearing about this.” 

“It’s okay. Unless you don’t feel like talking about it.” 

“No, it’s just, how do they expect us to stick to their tight schedule when half of my lab is being pulled away to other projects all the time?” Peter’s knife slices through the basil, hitting the cutting board with a sharp thunk. “Today, we were down one intern who caught the stomach flu, and it set us way back. One intern shouldn’t be that crucial to a big project like this!” 

You hum, ignoring the way the back of your neck prickles. The tension emanating from Peter is completely valid, your reaction a bothersome, purposeless souvenir from an old life. You find yourself staring into the pot of water and waiting for it to boil. 

“And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but all the rest of us are working extra hours to try and get this done in time.” 

Small bubbles in the bottom of the pot, rising tentatively to the surface. Peter’s knife thunks a quickening rhythm on the cutting board. 

“If they’d given us the money we asked for, we could have hired more people, been working with better equipment, but instead—” The water starts to rumble, steam warming your face. It’s thick in your throat. “—it’s like we don’t even work for a top-notch lab. Like, do they think we really believe they don’t have any resources to spare?”

Peter’s voice is rising, irritation sharpening his words. You reach to turn down the stove when big bubbles reach the surface, splattering hot onto your wrist. You ignore the sting. 

“My boss keeps talking about how important this presentation is,” Peter goes on, opening the cabinet next to your head and reaching inside, “but if it were really important, he’d have—” He slams the cabinet door. 

You both freeze. 

To anyone else, it would look like nothing—the way your expression stays perfectly still, your muscles stiffening just slightly, the invisible pause in your heartbeat. But Peter knows you. 

“Sorry.” He sounds as breathless as you feel. “I’m sorry. You okay?” 

“Mhm.” Despite your best intentions, your voice comes out pitchy. You can’t make yourself move in a way that feels natural, so you stay not moving at all. Steam wafting warm up onto your face. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Peter says, tone softer than you’ve heard it in days. “I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to yell.” The roiling pot has calmed to a gurgle. You can see him swallow in your peripheral vision. “Can you look at me?” 

You take in what you hope is a subtle breath, turning to your boyfriend with a wan smile. “Sorry,” you manage. “I don’t know why I did that.” 

“It’s okay,” he says, brows bunched in the middle. Brown eyes like a puppy’s. 

He shifts his arms, a question, and you step into them. You do it more for him than for you, but the second Peter’s arms wrap around your back the last of the tension shudders out of you. You hug him back, rubbing between his shoulder blades reassuringly. 

“I scared you?” he asks, still in that soft voice like he’s afraid of startling you. It’s not really a question. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get so mad.” 

“You’re allowed to be mad,” you argue weakly. There’s an embarrassing blockage in your throat. “It’s not your fault if I freak out, you should still be allowed to vent.” 

“No, but I know how you are.” Peter squeezes your shoulders. “I can vent without slamming things. It’s not nice.” 

You don’t have much of an argument for that. Still, “You really shouldn’t be the one comforting me right now,” you point out. 

A light hum. “Says who? I’m feeling a lot better already.” His hand climbs up to cup the back of your neck, his face turning down so his lips rest on your head. “Should’a just gone straight for the hug when I got home. Might have saved us both a lot of ranting.” 

You push your face into his sweatshirt, mindless of its dampness. He smells like rainwater. You don’t know how you could ever have thought, even for a second, that someone like this could be capable of hurting you. 

“I’ll make a note of that,” you murmur. 

“Yeah, please do,” Peter teases, pressing a kiss to your head. He pulls away and sets two still-chilled hands on your face. “Are you really okay?” he asks sincerely. “I know how scared you get, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I did that to you.” 

“You didn’t mean to,” you tell him, “and it wouldn’t be your fault anyways. I’m really okay.” 

Your boyfriend nods, but he still looks troubled. “Another hug for good measure?” 

“For you or for me?” 

A corner of his mouth kicks up. “Does it matter?” 

It doesn’t really.

[mjn-air]

.

[nerdnag]

I hope everyone who reads this is having a better day than I am 🙏

[cmoundiamante]

MINISKIRT ✦ S.JY

OWN LITTLE P*RN STAR SPIN-OFF

DEDICATED TO my baby girl @hollyoongs ̩̩͙ ໋:

pairing professor!jake x afab!reader

summary Strict and handsome, those were the main adjectives that described Sim Jaeyun. He was quick to scold you if you did anything that went against the rules of his class, but his guilty taste could get you off the hook if you only attended to his needs.

genre smut. college!au, one shot

warnings age gap (sjy 37. reader 23), pet names (miss t/n, princess, darling, whore, slut, good girl, sunshine.), mean!jake in his professor role and when he gets mad, machist & possessive!jake (kinda), the reader’s bsf is the pornstar (duh), dirty talk, blowjob, facejob, cum eating, missionary, unprotected sex, mentions of smoke and pornography, recording videos.

a/n DID YOU GUYS MISS ME? i was absent due to personal problems, I didnt have too much inspiration to write either, but here is what u were waiting for the most 😙😙 english is not my first language so pls be kind (: any correction will be considered, not only to improve reading but also for my learning ^^ enjoy this

wc 12,2k

• this is a olps spin off, so if u didn't read it, i recommend u to do so, as in some scenes there are references to parts of my other os

1 - Respect the fulfillment of assignment deliveries in a timely manner, otherwise this will alter your report grade.

2 - Attend the class with clothing appropriate to the university context.

3 - Failure to attend classes does not excuse the fulfillment of assigned tasks.

4 - Do not attend class with any type of food or drink other than water, totally forbidden to consume food inside the classroom.

5 - The use of the cell phone is allowed only with didactic use, otherwise it will be removed by the rest of the class by the teacher.

You could swear you knew these rules by heart, but these were just a few of the many rules in the Teaching Contract that Sim Jake updated annually. Mr. Sim was your teacher from the moment you entered this university practically, because since you managed to get your scholarship there wasn't a year in which you had another literature professor, it was always him.

Your platonic love for him was fueled by trying to see him in your free time at university. Although he was a very kind man outside of school, working transformed him into a completely different person. Despite his good humour and his princely face he was a man who would not forgive you for an undone task, 50 cents on an exam, nor for breaking his rules that were in the 'light penalties' section.

Today you had completely forgotten Jake's rules again, if you thought about him, but not his damn rules. You were in math class with Professor Nishimura, who unlike Jake was much younger and much more open-minded, clearly ignored your outfit, barely noticing your presence. When he left, you were shaking with fear because you knew your world was falling apart. In the middle of the time change, you turned around to see your friend, who was a little amused watching you squirm in your chair.

"Take this." She took her jacket off her chair and handed it to you. "Cover your legs with this, I think they will catch his attention more than your shoulders." She said, referring to the white tank top you were wearing and the black miniskirt that decorated your prominent hips. Without looking back, you realized that he had arrived because the whole classroom had fallen silent. "Give it to me," you whispered, snatching her jacket out of your best friend's hands, then unzipping it and covering your thighs.

You arranged your hair and fixed your gaze on him, who was giving an overview of the course. The first thing he did at the beginning of each class was to walk between the desks to greet us and tell us how his day went, at the same time he made sure that everything was in order and that each of his students fulfilled the long list of "student commitments". The wind you felt when he passed by your left side gave you goosebumps and raised your body temperature, making the jacket that was between your legs already a nuisance.

Jake walked past you again, this time head-on and to your bad luck you both made eye contact, calling Jake to take a closer look at you, finding your disobedience in the set of clothes you were wearing. "Miss Y/N, can you put on your jacket, pretty please? You can't have these kinds of clothes in my class." His tone was so soft that you could do what he asked of you with no problem, but your bare legs could create an even bigger problem, but you listened to him.

You didn't know if you did it because you wanted him to see you, but you managed to get him to keep his gaze glued to your thighs for a couple of seconds. When you finished putting on your friend's jacket, Jake grabbed your shoulder and massaged it a little, when you looked at him you felt a little bad about the face he was giving you. "This will lower your concept grade." He kept walking behind you, then you kept looking at him and then gave your friend an alert glance. You were both outraged by that stupid rule, but you couldn't do anything about it so you both would just have to swallow your anger.

"Bullshit," your companion whispered. He had already scolded you and it was already certain that your grades would go down, so your friend extended her hand, implying that you should give her back her jacket, but you played dumb. "What?" you looked at her confused. "He already scolded you, give me back my jacket." "He touched it... Can I keep it?" To all this, you communicated in whispers, which luckily among the murmurs of the whole course could not be heard. "Yes, of course, as if you hadn't taken off all my clothes," she replied wryly.

"Please, when you come home I'll give you the clothes you want," you said, clasping your hands in pleading, knowing that your friend still wasn't convinced. "We don't even have similar styles." "Pretty please? If we ever drift apart, I want you to have something of mine as a souvenir." She laughed. "I'll probably burn it later." You sarcastically glared at her, whispering an almost inaudible 'you, bitch'. "Fiiiiine, keep it," she said in an even louder tone, yet you were happy to have acquired something that he had made tact with.

New day, new clothes.

This time you did have a reason to wear those kinds of clothes. When you opened your closet, you had found literally nothing. Some clothes you haven't worn in years, ripped dresses that your asshole ex-boyfriend had torn before he fucked you hard, t-shirts with horrific prints that you wore at a controversial time in your life. Among so much shit you could find a crop top and a denim miniskirt, that to hide the outfit you wore the same jacket from yesterday that you had taken from your best friend.

To all this, your only excuse was your laziness to put the clothes that were in the laundry basket into the washing machine. Even if you put your clothes into the washing machine at the same time you knew you made a mistake, you were still going to go through this again, because the humid temperature of the city did not cooperate to dry the clothes hanging out in time.

You tried to get the jacket to cover at least half of your thighs, but the attempt was stupid, since you were in class and soon to hide your flesh from the sight of that teacher, who would clearly soon catch your attention again. "Miss Y/N, again?" he lowered his head, as much as that was a bad sign you couldn't help but feel excited by that move he made. "I can explain..." Your answer took a while to formulate as you wanted to speak without stuttering. "Okay, we'll talk after class then. Is that okay with you?" you gulp, and with a lump tied in your throat you nodded. "And remember..." As he spoke, he moved away from you, exposing your mistake in front of the whole course. "Your grades."

Trying to delete that embarrassing scene from your mind, class had started and you had to focus on it. For today's class, Jake had asked a text to print and bring to that same class. "Well guys, I want to believe that most of you brought the text I asked for, is there anyone who didn't bring it?" No one raised their hand, but it was obvious that he were asking to find out who should be downgraded and who should not. Luckily you weren't one of that group, as you held the paper in your hands.

"Alright, the text we're going to read today is called 'Thoughts I Never Told You', it was written by Joanne Collins, have any of you ever read it or do you know what it's about?" some 'no' was heard in a very low tone to answer Jake's question. "It is a confession written from the writer's point of view that expresses the daily thoughts that a woman has when she falls in love." With his hands decorated with some rings, he grabbed the sheet with the writing. "Who wants to start reading?" one of your classmates raised his hand and Jaeyun gave him the pass to read.

From then on your attention diminished, just following the reading without being interested in what the text said. You imagined fictional scenarios, or you just watched Mr. Sim, who was paying attention to the reading, concentrating on his sheet, which you want to be you so that he would appreciate you in that way. You lowered your gaze and managed to see how his blue shirt had the sleeves rolled up, revealing the middle of his arm that was decorated by some veins that exalted his skin. The white T-shirt he wore could show off his collarbones perfectly. Remembering his rules, he could also be the one who gets a penalty for wearing clothes that heated you in that way.

You couldn't think much more because the moment you tried to look down, he found you appreciating him. "Y/N, your turn." Your body temperature rose as you heard your name come out of his mouth. Your hands were shaking and wouldn't cooperate in being able to properly grasp the sheet of paper, so you just rested it on your desk to avoid further embarrassment.

"Sometimes I wonder what you did to keep me so mesmerized. My fingers are tired, but they wouldn't endure a night without replacing your place, giving me that feeling I want you to give me but it's probably impossible for you to give it to me." He absolutely gave you the worst part. "My body is possessed and my lower part unties crystalline threads forced to leave consequences of everything I thought about you last night. Oh, believe me, I used to see you as such a nice guy, but after those events passing in front of you was a real grief, because I had created a perspective of you that no one was going to prove to me if it was true or not." Who did this remind you of? Yes, you.

You didn't feel Jake's presence so close to you, surprising you when you found him by your side. "C’mon, keep going." This man wanted to kill you.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, my heart is pumping a thousand times an hour, my voice is cracking and making sounds that even I can't understand, my legs are shaking, my mind is dizzy. I don't know what I should do to fulfill my fantasy, I don't know if I should just love you a little less, but the desire is irresistible enough for you to leave me stranded longing for how much…” You didn't know how to read what was coming. “…my crotch calls your name."

You wanted Jake not to be looking at you and you had let yourself get carried away in the reading, never mind that some of your classmates laughed because they couldn't handle their immaturity. "Kayla, can you please keep reading?" Jake thankfully moved away from you, although you felt the temperature change because having him by your side kept you warm, the cold wind breeze made you get goosebumps.

The reading lasted the entire hour, but the class was over, indicating that it was time to talk to Jake alone. "For the next class we will do a question activity that will go into the exam, so if it’s necessary read the text again." At the end of the sentence, the bell rang indicating the time change.

"Wait for you at the exit." As you started putting your things in your backpack, you heard your friend said that behind you. Without waiting for a response from you, she withdrew with her classmates. From your desk you watched him very carefully, detecting every movement. As everyone left the classroom, he found himself closing the blinds on the windows that reflected the hallways, giving you hints that this was going to get weird. When no student was left in the classroom, only you, he closed the door.

"Come here." he sat down in his seat, manspreading, in front of his desk, which still had some of his belongings on top of it. He took off his glasses, taking that to mean that he had let you see a more youthful part of him, since although he was a man of almost 40 years old, he kept up quite well for his age.

"Explain yourself, why that kind of clothes again?" he grabbed a silk scarf and began to clean the lenses of his glasses, paying more attention to them being free of any stains than to your presence. "Well, I've had some problems with the washing machine this week and all the clothes that… cover me the most are dirty."

"Can't you borrow clothes from your friends like you did yesterday?" were you a little surprised with the advice he gave you, had he really heard everything? "Yes... But I don't understand what's wrong with the clothes." he raised his head to look you in the eye, making you feel small in front of him.

"In a school context it's not okay to dress the way you do, miss, for some reason it's in the pedagogical contract, isn't it?" you nodded. You folded your arms to try to cover yourself because of the embarrassment you had acquired from how he was talking to you, he really looked angry. "Also, personally, it's too distracting for me."

Did he really say it? Did you hear that right? Is it the same strict and innocent teacher you've had for years? Yes, he was. You were too stunned to speak. It wasn't in your plans to respond to him and he noticed, so he continued to tease you, putting on his glasses and again standing up to surround you.

"You know how I am, a perfectionist guy, I don't like not to be focused and have my classes go wrong." Jake used to speak in a very loud voice when talking in class, but when he whispered low in your ear you couldn't resist starting to melt, and not metaphorically, because a patch of moisture started to mark on your panties. "Mr. Sim..."

"Call me Jake... You don't want that either, do you?" he interrupted, making a gap of time between sentences. "No," you replied submissively, thinking that something else might happen. "Then start wearing more appropriate clothes or I'll have to rip these clothes off of you on my own. If you want to be half-naked in my class, that's how you will be." He acted naturally, as if it was normal what he had told you, he just walked away from you and started putting his stuff in his briefcase. "You can go." he ended the conversation, unaware that he had stunned you in front of him.

You quickly grabbed your backpack, and with quick steps you walked out of the classroom, slamming the door. He didn't know what was causing you, he wasn't aware of what he was doing to you.

You were really going to need a good fingering session when you got home.

His phrase was repeated in your mind over and over again, to the point of not letting you sleep. It was 5 A.M. and you kept imagining how your miniskirt was torn by him, how his fingers buried themselves in your skin leaving marks that couldn't disappear for days, his dick pushing inside you fitting perfectly to his thickness.

The fingering session was already done, but were you going to be able to look him in the eye after what happened? Of Course not.

Sleeping late paid off when you woke up at 2 p.m., clearly realizing you missed college. When you grabbed your cell phone from the bedside table, the first thing that popped on the screen were the thousands of messages from your best friend, who when you saw everything she sent you you could be a spectator of all her mood swings when she saw that you were not there. From despair to resignation.

you: im alright girl, ive jst fallen asleep

You didn't really have to do anything during the day, so you just had to decide between two options. One, lying in bed all day watching series and worrying about getting a good night's sleep. Or two, take care of your house, clean up, restock your cupboards and fridge, call someone to fix your washing machine. As the first option sounded tempting, the second was an obligation, so whether you wanted to or not you had to fulfill it.

Suddenly, your house was shiny. You took the whole afternoon to leave every space in your home aesthetically pleasing. Now it was time to go to the supermarket, since your cupboards were completely empty and you were feeding yourself on deliveries.

"Everything was easier when I lived with Mom." you said to yourself. You made the grocery list as you wandered around the kitchen, seeing what was missing and what wasn't. When you were done, you put the small sheet of paper in your pocket and left your house, ready to walk the 10 blocks to the supermarket.

You had the option of calling a taxi, or even taking the bus, but you just had more fun walking and enjoying the view of the streets of your city. Regretting the outfit you had decided to go out with, the wind hit harder and it started to cool down, but you weren't going to be embarrassed on the street so you just hid, trying not to tremble even though your legs showed goosebumps.

A familiar voice rang in your ears as you waited for the traffic light to change, it was in front of you. "Miss Y/N?" Shit, it was him. "Hello, Mr. Sim." he was inside his car, clearly waiting for the traffic light to change. "What are you doing?" his poker face was indispensable to you, it seems like forgetting everything he said to you yesterday, when you couldn't get that out of your mind. "Just gonna buy some stuff." You tried to talk as little as possible. "Do you want me to give you a ride to the market?"

"No, thank you very much, you don't have to." you shook your head with a smile, respecting the elder. "Don’t worry about it, please get in." Even though yesterday's embarrassment was still intact, you were already inside his car, and luckily he kept an eye on making sure the atmosphere was pleasant. "You missed classes today, didn't you?" the conversation began, without taking his eyes off the route.

"How do you know?" your gaze went from the window to seeing his face draw a smirk. "I didn't see you all day, plus I had to talk to your friend about the assignments she didn't turn in and she told me you hadn't come." You smiled a little at his concern, however you didn't hesitate to make a joke. "Pretty sure it was for you to scold me for the clothes I wore."

"What happened yesterday..." He clearly realized the mistake he made, and you decided to behave just like him. "Explain yourself." his face changed completely, but honestly it wasn't that you were paying attention to, it was his hands gripping the steering wheel. "It wasn't appropriate, I got angry, I'm so sorry." Even though you weren't looking at him, you could feel his eyes staring at you, showing that he was serious. But no, you couldn't forgive him when you loved what he had told you.

"Exactly, for the school context it wasn't appropriate..." He was silent. "But I don't know why you apologize when I've never told you that I was upset by what you told me."

"Isn't that comment I made offensive to a woman?" You were very close to the market, alarming you that you had to stop talking to him, but you didn't want that. "I don't remember what you told me, would you remind me?" he shook his head, parking the car in front of the market waiting for you to get out. "Come on, I'll wait for you here until you're done."

"Mr. Sim, you don't ha-" "Jake." he interrupted. "Jake, you don't have to." you insisted, to make sure that when you get home you can have the same routine you had yesterday. "I'm not going to let you go alone." Well, you admitted, it sounded cute, it made your cheeks a little red, your blood boil, and your core moist, but only a little bit.

Anyway, you got out of the car and took the list of products out of the pocket of your jacket, again the same jacket you wore for three consecutive days, because something you loved to be was outfit repeater. You needed milk, cereal, yogurt, fruit, meat, and some other things that were on the supermarket shelves. Luckily it didn't take you more than 20 minutes to grab everything and go to the checkout, where they also did everything very quickly.

You had filled two bags, which you put in the back seats of Jake's car, and then returned to your seat. "You did it fast." he had been a little startled to see you arrive again, since his attention was exclusively on his cell phone. "Yeah, I didn't want to make you wait long." He put his cell phone in his pants pocket and started the car again. "I already told you I don't care, princess." Him talking to you casually and calling you 'princess', this was your chance to start picking up those hints and returning them to him.

"I don't have to do anything now, so I can be your personal chauffeur if you want." His request didn't sound bad, but it's not like you had to do anything on a thursday afternoon. "Do you want to go somewhere else?" you shook your head, always maintaining eye contact with him. "Then let's go home." He looked at the traffic light, which turned the light green and sped up his speed. "My house?" you asked, confused by what he meant by home, to which he simply laughed. "Not your house, my house."

"For what?" was a forced but discreet invitation. "I hang out with quite a few of my students sometimes." Ouch, that meant you weren't the only one. "And it would be interesting to talk with you in my living room."

Jake got out of the car and opened your door for you to get out of the car. He lived in a building, that if you looked up it was impossible to count the number of floors it had. It already looked luxurious, but when you went to the lobby your theories that this man had a lot of money were nothing short of being true. You both got into the elevator and he pressed button number 15. You looked in the elevator mirrors to see if your makeup had smudged or if there was any imperfection on your face, and at some point you felt like Jake was giving you little glimpses.

When you left, in front of the elevator was his apartment. He took the keys out of his pants pocket and opened the door, letting you see one of his most intimate things, his home. It was quite modern inside, but you wondered if he had any special rooms in which he kept books, as any literature professor would. You started hearing footsteps in the distance, and you were terrified, until Jake said: "Layla!"

A rather large dog appeared in your field of view, overjoyed at the arrival of her owner. Jake bent down to pet her as the blonde dog licked his face to welcome him into her home. You found the scene very tender. "Come on, welcome to Y/N." he patted his tail and stood up, meanwhile he began to get rid of all the excess clothes he had, leaving only a white shirt. Then you paid attention to the dog, who was in front of you wagging her tail from side to side, finally you imitated Jake, bending down to pet her as well.

"Hey girl." she stuck out her tongue but unlike her owner, she didn't lick you. You ran one of your hands over her head and smiled as she closed her eyes to enjoy your cuddles. "Such a beautiful girl." Then you got up and looked at your teacher, who was with his arms crossed enjoying the scene reflected through his glasses.

"Do you like wine?" his question took you by surprise. "Not at all, why?" you confessed. You weren't a big fan of alcohol in general, but the scene you had in your head about what could happen tonight was something you didn't know if you could do sober, so wine could help. "I see." He started to walk and you just stood there watching him as he left, not feeling your presence near him he looked at you and made a gesture for you to follow him, so you obeyed.

His kitchen was immense, you could say it was a bit useless to have such a house when he spent more time in college than in his own home, but you weren't going to judge because he could do whatever he wanted with his money. The place had two doors, maybe you thought it could be a pantry, but two? "I have variety, some are soft, maybe you'll like them." Well, you were wrong, it wasn't a pantry, it was a winery. He opened the tinted glass door and turned on the light. The space was small, but the brown color of the shelves that held the bottles could make the space look a little more open.

"You can tell that you really like wine." Your comment made him smile. "Actually, before I started working in schools I was a sommelier." he told you, blowing your mind with his confession, you definitely needed to know more. "It's a pretty fine profession." you said, watching as Jake began to look at the bottles, occasionally grabbing one to see its brand. "What would you like to start with?"

"Choose for me, have no idea about wines." He grabbed two bottles and then both of you walked out of the cellar. In the middle of the kitchen he had a table made of marble, on which he rested the two wines and a glass. You sat and watched him uncork the wine, how his hands were so agile to have the cork in his hands in such a short time and serve you the wine in the glass in such a professional way. "What's this?"

"Oliver, Sweet red lime." handed you the cup. "It's made by concord grapes, it's pretty smooth so you'll probably taste like grape juice." You smelled a little bit of its essence, it didn't smell that bad but you did smell the smell of alcohol. "I've never drunk alcohol before." Jake laughed. "Then you would feel the alcohol." You kept pretending to take a sip. "Aren’t you gonna drink?” the cup brushed your lips, very close to the liquid touching your tongue. "Would you feel safer if I drink with you?" you nodded your head and smiled behind him as he got up from his chair to fetch another drink. When he returned, he poured himself some wine and held his glass to yours.

“Cheers” The glasses collided with each other, giving you the confidence to take the first sip, the second as well, and well... also the third. He looked at you attentively at your expressions, clearly to see if the wine had been to your taste, but you didn't pay attention to it when you finally had it looking at you as he did at the insignificant materials that had concentrated him. "What do you think?" you cleared your throat, in which the bitter taste of alcohol clearly stuck to it. "I thought it was going to be smoother, I felt the alcohol a lot."

"Do you want to try the other one?" "Let's go.", as much as you didn't like it, you took the last sip you had left to empty the glass. Jake repeated the same steps as the previous one when he opened it and again gave you the cup, and then poured himself into his glass. "This one is Purple Toad, it's quite similar to the other one but it has a particular flavor, if you guess what it is you have a prize."

“What kind of prize?” without waiting for you, Jake had already taken a sip. "You'll see later." You rolled your eyes and drank the wine, this one being much friendlier in taste. "I like this one better. It's smooth, the alcohol feels less." "Can you guess what it tastes like besides grape?" You took the last sip of the wine and stared at the glass for a few seconds, or at least until your taste buds guess the taste camouflaged in this liquid. "Blueberries maybe." "You're a pretty smart girl sometimes."

"Sometimes? Alright, what's my prize?" you felt a sexual tension in the air, but at the same time you thought you were exaggerating since you found it very difficult to fulfill your fantasies at this time of year. "Do you remember the text we read yesterday?" Your smile melted as you saw how he changed the subject so quickly. You nodded your head and without asking he grabbed your glass again to put some more wine in it, you agreed and went back to drinking some. "I felt embarrassed having to read that part in front of everyone.” you confessed, trying to sound like a claim. "You didn't look embarrassed, you narrated it pretty well." "Did I narrate it right?"

"It felt good to hear it come out of your mouth." Being a literature teacher, his vocabulary must be much more extensive and he would use words correctly and directly. But this left you even more confused. "Jake..." "You were thinking about me as you read it, weren't you?"

Should you get into him? Should you tell him everything you fantasized about or the times you sinned thinking about him? as your fingers worked hard to satisfy you from the uncontrollable desire trying to replace him. It was always him, which also didn't give you time to think about the consequences of that decision.

Jake dared to look at you after a while, you did the same. His eyes shone through a lustful gaze, as if you were the mouse and he was the wolf. "You're very obvious, did you know that?" You didn't like his game at all, you got up from your chair and started walking out of the kitchen, although since the apartment was very large you didn't remember well where you had to get out.

"Where are you going?" You didn't realize that Jake had followed you into the living room. "I can't stand people teasing me." Since he was behind you, it was easy to chain his arm around your waist preventing you from escaping, at the same time laughing at you very close to your ear. "You've got a lot of character, huh. I'll stop teasing you if you let me make you feel good." You stopped forging to break free of his grip and waited for him to keep talking, looking at him through your shoulder.

"How?" He felt how your body was relieved, the hand that was on your waist was tracing invisible patterns on your skin, which was destined for your pelvis. "Do you remember the text? 'The desire is irresistible enough for you to leave me stranded longing for how much my crotch calls your name.'" His voice kept having side effects on you, creating goosebumps for the fresh mint on his breath. "Do you think my crotch calls your name?"

"I'm not just a literature professor and a retired sommelier, darling. I know a lot about body language." You definitely liked smart men, this was turning into something else and you were enjoying it so bad. "So if I have your consent..." "Yes." you interrupted him in desperation. "Yes?" you couldn't stand being behind him and having to continue to endure his scent without being able to see him, so you turned around, raised your head to be able to look him in the eyes despite the height differences. “You have my consent.”

As much as your hands ran down his neck, he reacted much faster, placing his hands on both of your thighs and lifting you, without even applying force, looking like you were a light bag of feathers.

The first kiss you had with him felt magical, an experience never experienced before. While the guys you kissed at parties didn't do too badly. Instead, Jake, an older, experienced man, you knew he could make you feel better, that he did it better. The second kiss was passionate. It had that spark that the first one didn't have, making you surrender at his feet more than you already were. And finally, the third one, he made you understand why you were like this for him. So high by physical and sexual attraction that you suddenly felt that his lips didn't need to be on yours, but on another part of your body where the attention needed was stronger.

You didn't understand when you both entered his room. He slammed the door and with clumsy steps made his way to the bed, where he deposited your body, which was not so far from nakedness. Crop top, shorts, that stupid jacket, all very accessible so that in less than five minutes Jake has you at his disposal.

Both of you broke away from the kiss and started paying attention to each other. He took some time to look at your needy face, especially your pink cheeks, your physical build, your hair that slowly began to tousle as the action increased. On the other hand, you paid attention to his foggy glasses, his lips soaked with a thin layer of his mixed saliva, how part of his chest showed through the opening of his shirt, and above all, his hands. They were your favorite and visible part of his body. Long fingers, knuckles with a pink smudge that you loved, a good shape and above all the veins that decorated it.

You grabbed one of them and began to adore its torso. "Such veiny hands." your comment did not go unnoticed by Jake, who knew perfectly well in what sense it was going. The same hand you were holding went straight to your neck, not squeezing it, just decorating it as if it were a necklace. "Do you like veiny hands?" you nodded your head as best you could, as his hand was immobilizing you a bit, but you didn't complain. "It just makes me wonder if your dick is as veiny as your hands."

"We haven't even started and you're already thinking about my cock? You, dirty whore." Deep down you knew he liked your comment, just as you liked him calling you a whore. You'd let him degrade you and call you out in every way possible to make you his. "It's not the first time I've done it, anyway." Jake forced his hand on your neck and brought your face a little closer to attack him again with that kissing combo he had prepared for you.

Your hands lightly touched the buttons of his shirt, not at all ready to unbutton them, however soon you lost the embarrassment and his shirt was completely open, leaving his torso exposed and the necklace that decorated his body was released, slowly touching your collarbones while you panted on his lips when you felt the cold of the metal.

The hand that was on your neck, traced a line down the middle of your body, slowly going down towards the end of your crop top, which Jake didn't pull out but did lift it. "No bra, that’s why your nipples were visible." His thumb went straight to your mouth to lubricate and he began massaging your left nipple in circles, which soon became sensitized and hard. "It's what dirty whores do, isn't it?" again he pressed your lips to his to shut you up, forcing your tongue to rub against his.

Jake stood up and finished taking off his shirt, throwing it somewhere in his room, at the same time unzipping his pants as well. You watched him attentively to his movements, enjoying it as if it were a striptease, but he was not the only one who was undressing, since in a quick movement your boobs were exposed to him, who although he was busy doing something else could not help but bite his lip when he finally saw beyond your body.

Already bare-chested, he lunged back at you without dropping his full weight, tactically catching your lips again. "This is what you do with your students when you hang out with them?" as he interrupted each word, he gasped on your lips, and the sound was so delicious that you didn't need to hear it much longer to feel your folds brush against the cold, wet fabric of your panty. "Not really." didn't sound confident, but he didn't stop the physical contact. "Many of the students I hanged out were attracted to me, but none were as fortunate as you to be in your shoes." You understood his need to make you jealous, but as much as you wanted to ask him thousands of questions about those students, you simply gave him a smile.

The talk that had flowed in between the kisses caused Jake to despair, not realizing that when you kissed him again he was simply in boxers. It was melange gray, and you wanted to believe that he had put it on purpose to mark his bulge, which by the way, you thought was impossible for him to enter through your hole.

You didn't want to look desperate, so you began a trip of rubbing that started with his collarbones, ran all over his chest and abdomen, his pelvis was not missing and finally, the part you were desperate to touch. His massive dressed cock. Jake didn't push your touch away but your lips did, pulling his head back. "I barely touched it." you tease him. To contradict yourself, you wrapped your palm around his dick, unable to fully grip him because his boxers avoided gripping. "You're touching it too much right now."

From Jake's mouth came faint puffs of air and sounds that were inaudible but only your receptive core understood. "Can I ask you something?" his voice sounded so good when he was agitated. You nodded, waiting for him to speak. "Have you ever done a facejob?" you were left on the bed processing his question. You didn't know what it was until you understood why its name, handJOB, blowJOB...

"No, but I can try." You couldn't see his reaction because at the same time your eyes went to his boxers, which were no longer a hindrance and a block to see his cock. "So pretty and so willing." You were really amazed at how beautiful it was visually. His tip was pink and it was moistened by precum, you swore it could have the same texture as his lips.

"What should I do?" you asked. "Spit," Jake ordered, putting the palm of his hand in front of your mouth, you let out a spit that he used to lubricate its length. "Just close your eyes, or don't do it, the way you want, unless you want to get conjunctivitis."

"Have you done it before?" he nodded, "May I know with who?" he tugged at his member gently, grabbed your face, appreciating your doggy eyes, which for some reason made him shudder. "I don't see the need to make the environment uncomfortable by answering that question." Even though he was self-stimulating, his voice was firm and thick, not like it had been a while ago. As time went by, you became aware of his many facets.

"I don’t mind to know, just curious." His hand went down to your neck to handle you more easily. "My ex-wife." “Did she like it?" he shook his head "We tried it once and she thought it didn't feel right so it wasn't repeated, but I held out for several years without a facejob." He was dying of urgency and his face showed it, so you grabbed the hand that was pumping his dick and brought it close to your face. "Let me make you feel good then."

You lay on your back and Jake stood on top of you, exactly right next to your face. He patted his dick on your face a couple of times, unexpectedly his hand grabbed the entirety of your face, warning you to close your eyes. He kept his member clinging to your features, soaking them and keeping a gentle rhythm for the time being.

Jake, even though his head was pulled back, his eyes were still riveted on you. He let out a few giggles camouflaged with gasps because of how tender you looked trying to open your mouth to stick out your tongue and take care of the lower part of his neck. He had to capture that image, and he couldn't do it just in that moment, he needed it forever.

His pants were very close to him, so when he saw them accessible he moved his body a bit, not enough to stop pleasing himself on you but to grab his pants, where his cell phone was in his pocket. "Are you okay with me filming you?" He would talk to you while you were under him, you could barely talk but you managed to be able to answer him. "If you promise to do nothing wrong with that video." With just a few taps to the screen, he opened the camera, focusing on your face and tapping the button to start the video.

He kept expelling precum from his tip, depositing every drop on your face. You had been grateful that he had advised you to close your eyes, otherwise you might have thrown a tantrum because you felt your eyes burn. He grunted under his breath, enjoying what he couldn't in so many years.

From time to time you would open your mouth in an attempt to catch his cock with your tongue, but it was simply useless because he tried his best not to let you, even though your desperation captivated him, turning your desires into commands. His hand stopped pressing against your face and finally pulled its length into your mouth.

As you were still underneath him, there was very little ability to move that you had, but it wasn't impossible, you were optimistic and it was too hot a time for you to give up on doing something so quickly. You moved your neck back and forth trying to get your throat used to his length so you could take it all, but you were right when you thought it wasn't going to fit in your mouth.

Jake pulled it out of your mouth and started jerking it off with his hand, returning it back to the starting position they had. "You don't have to take it all if you can't." His cell phone was still in his hands, but it wasn't pointed at you. "I've taken bigger dicks." you lied, you tried to make him jealous. His was definitely the biggest you'd ever experimented with. "I just haven't fucked in months." brushed his tip over your lips. The fluids between the two of you were enough to make this scene the most disgusting you've ever seen and his member easily enter your oral cavity again.

He cut the video, throwing his cell phone to the side of the bed, and with that same hand he grabbed your head tightly over your hair to finally be able to cum in your mouth, which if it wasn't for his composure, he could not have tolerated it and would have already cum within five seconds of you having let yourself be fucked by your mouth.

Which he did, because he couldn't stand it any longer, painting your whole throat with his load. Jake grunted under his breath, growing weak because his body was shaking like jelly. Jake's face was close to yours, and you grabbed him and pulled him closer, connecting to each other with a kiss mixed with saliva and his own cum, which he clearly didn't reject.

His hand went over your anatomy again even though his mouth is close to yours. His fingers found the seam of your shorts, which soon came down at the same time as your panties. Both pieces of clothing fell to the floor, now leaving you completely exposed, unconsciously brushing his tip on your clit, which soon slipped due to the humidity that invaded it.

"Please do something?" you asked, feeling overwhelmed by every touch he gave you. "Jake I need you so much, please stop torturing me." Jake put a smile on his face just hearing your words, then he played with you by smashing his huge cock against your tense and sensitive pussy.

"What do you want?" he asked. "If you don't use words, I'll stop here." You began to gasp as you shook your head from side to side. "No, no, please." "Tell me what you want, baby girl." You thought twice about your words before opening your mouth to avoid stuttering. "Please, fuck me." your faces were so close that you could still smell the grapes and alcohol that his mouths expelled. "Make me yours."

"You were mine a long time ago." That phrase was sensual enough to captivate you again and attack his lips in response, at the same time you felt how the space of your entrance was replaced by his length. A sudden moan vibrated between the lips of the two of you, but unfortunately his dick didn't go all in at once.

"You're going to take it all," you nodded desperately, gasping for breath as his cock moved and filled you completely. But no matter how small your hole is, you couldn't refuse his requests, you had to do what he told you and get your pretty pussy used to his size. One of his hands met one of your breasts by surprise, causing your nipples to stiffen no matter how hot Jake's hand was.

"Jake.." you groaned, not knowing that you were causing him crazy by talking to him like that. You were so lubricated by your natural fluids that it became easy for Jake to move inside you, and in turn bury himself deeper into you, finally making his entire member occupy your cunt. "Just like that.. Fuck."

You threw your head back when you bit your lip, but it was in vain, for every thrust caused countless incoherent gasps to come out of your mouth. He still didn't do it to the point of making you scream and cry, even though he looked like he fucked like that. It was still a pleasant pain, but never experienced before.

"You can tell you're enjoying this." Your eyes rolled back as I increased the speed. Out of inertia, your hand grabbed the arm with which it was held so as not to drop all his weight on top of you, squeezing his bare muscle leaving your nails marked. "Fuck yeah." you couldn't stop squealing and you really felt on the edge, Jake had noticed it by how your walls squeezed him, making him very close to painting your gummy walls white as well.

The force he applied gradually became more abrupt, although, actually it wasn't necessary to make you hot, as his entire presence made you blush and drip. "How much did you want this?" growled Jake over you. The thrusts continued at his pace, but it seemed to you that it was something you could no longer contain.

He finally did. He brought all of its length into you.

"A lot." incomprehensible. "I don't hear you, pretty. Say it again," he ordered. His other hand went to your naked clitoris, which was hard and tender from the heat you had picked up since you arrived at his house. "I've waited a long time for this." Jake couldn't stand much either, because the movements of his hand were silly and he kept fucking you like a fucking beast.

You didn't help him much either by moaning at him how much you wanted him. Your body trembles, your mind becomes dizzy, it is impossible to speak or do anything in this state of madness, so finally his hand was covered by a glowing layer of poisonous lust. The humidity helped him to make his movements frequent, the heat of your cave made him finally discharge inside you.

When he came out of you, you were finally able to take the first breath of air so that you could regulate yourself. Jake kept his gaze on your shiny pussy, which for some reason was acting in the same way you did, expelling from your hole what Jake had left inside.

You threw your head back and stopped feeling tense, closed your eyes and discovered what calm was. "How do you feel?" you kept your eyes closed but you felt the mattress sink next to you, letting you know that Jake had lied down with you. "Did you like it?" you shuddered to feel him so close to your ear, but it also made you laugh.

"It felt really good Jake" you opened your eyes to see him. He was sweating, that shiny layer that abounded on his face premonished more on his lips, making them look more pompous. And of course, more kissable. "This will make you forgive me for wearing miniskirts?"

Apparently you know how to manifest or something like that, but Sim's lips again connected with yours. "You know I love your miniskirts." He said between kisses. "Why do you get angry when I wear them?" "I don't want people to see you dressed like that." He stopped kissing for a second to get a good look at you closely. "If you come here, I don't have a problem with you to wear them." You laughed at his jealousy scene.

"But I want you to know that will still lower your grades." He got out of bed and started looking for his boxers. You tried not to laugh when you saw that he still a little bit hard, feeling dirty about it. "Jake, come on.” You leaned on your arms and watched Jake as he put on his boxers. "When you learn to dress properly, I will forgive you. Now, ass up sunshine, let's go to sleep."

You woke up early, so early that you could find Jake still sleeping peacefully. His arm was wrapped around your entire body, and the force he exerted on you made it impossible for you to break free from his grip. You managed to pull out an arm, which you used to grab your cell phone and see the time, 5:30 A.M.

When you were finally able to get out of bed, you get dressed again, making sure you didn't make too much noise so you wouldn't wake him up. You saw him for the last time, appreciating how he pouted as he let out little snores, thinking he looked very cute that way.

You ran away from his department, thankful he didn't notice. When you left the apartment you felt that it was still night, as it was dark and there was absolutely no one roaming the streets at that time. Then you remembered that you had both come here by car, and you realized that your house was too far away to walk alone, so you simply asked for an uber.

The minutes passed, you had already checked instagram, tiktok, twitter, snapchat, and still the cell phone bored you, all because the damn uber didn't arrive. 6 A.M., at this point you imagined that Jake had already woken up and realized that you had practically disappeared, you had also realized that you were already late for college, since at this time you were about to leave your house to catch the bus.

Fortunately, as the sun reappeared, the uber teleported in front of you as if by magic trick. You opened the door and without greeting the driver told him your home address and handed him some bills, no matter the cost.

You rushed out of the car, already prepared with the keys in hand to open the door and close it behind you, not worrying about locking it again. You were thankful that you could live alone, because the noise you were making was something your parents couldn't stand. You undressed and grabbed the first pieces of clothing you saw, you didn't really care anymore if it was provocative clothes or not, you just wanted to wear something suitable for college.

You went to the bathroom and tied your hair up to grab a makeup remover towel and start pulling out the tears with mascara that had left traces of what happened last night, while you were rushing to leave your face clean, you couldn't help but smile a little from the flashbacks. As much as your face had turned red from the force with which you rubbed your face, you didn't care, with the ponytail and your face fresh, you grabbed your backpack and left your house, this time remembering to close the door properly.

You were walking fast to get to the bus stop, which just got there and parked to let some people in. You paid for your ticket and found a window seat to sit on, which is where you left off for the rest of the trip.

You had a two-hour trip to college, so you decided to lay your head on the glass and sleep. The silence of the people showed that they were in the same situation as you, just woken up, not wanting to talk, not wanting to work, not wanting to do anything, so on the other hand you were grateful for the peace to be able to concentrate on being able to coincide with the dream.

The sun's rays went straight into your eyes, but that wasn't the only thing that woke you up, it was also the realization that you had to be on time for your classes. You turned on your phone and panicked. 7:50, you had only ten minutes. You clutched your head in frustration, trying not to rip it off, metaphorically.

In the midst of the desperation to get there early, your best friend sent you a message.

bitch🪽: bitch, where the fuck are u now?

you: IM OMW

you: i just woke up, i wasn't home and i fell asleep late last night

bitch🪽:where have u been?

you: …

you: wait for me to get there

You thought the bus driver would do everything he could so you didn't make it to your first class.

When you arrived in the classroom, Jake's disapproving look on you was something you couldn't help but feel intimidated by, even knowing that you had left him completely alone after everything that had happened last night. "Did you see the time, miss?" You shrugged your arms melting in shame. "My apologies, sir." Jake kept looking at you, but you broke eye contact to go sit in your seat. You did your best to get your things ready and then turn to look at your friend. "I did something wrong yesterday." Her face showed confusion. "But I don't regret about anything."

"What? Did you kill someone?" the way she exaggerated made you shake your head. "Bitch, you didn't tell me anything, what have you done?" you looked sideways, not only paying attention to your classmates, but particularly to the teacher, who for the moment, was not looking at you, feeling relieved. "Professor Sim." your friend's face changed flatly, "Girl, don't tell me that-" "I slept with him." She opened her mouth, but you didn't know exactly if her face showed happiness, surprise, or disapproval of sleeping with someone twice your age. "If I could do it, so could you."

"Nah, he's yours, thank you so much for the offer anyway." "Who told you it was going to be with Jake?" you didn't realize that you raised your voice, catching some glances from your classmates, who were just looking at you like a weirdo. You didn't realize it, but you were hoping that someone didn't listen to you. "I've seen you look at Professor Park during class," you whispered and smirked. "You eat his bulge with your eyes."

Your partner laughed a little. "Maybe... Anyway, it's just an erotic desire." The two of you were shameless to talk about these kinds of topics in public, but you were both willing to break the taboo. "If I were him I'd fuck you, you're too sexy just to exist." The wry compliment you said served to turn his cheeks red. "You flatter me."

"Okay, speaking about Sunghoon, how are you doing with your studies?" You saw her take her stuff out of her backpack while you talked to her, so you took it as advice and started doing the same thing before class started. "I have it under control, but I have a question about some concept." "You already have an excuse to go see him today." You recommended her, knowing full well that he would do it later. Jake's voice echoed throughout the classroom, creating goosebumps, when you turned to pay attention to his class, you were slowly melting in your seat because of how his eyes looked at you, you felt like daggers were coming out of them and they were digging into your skin, because something you knew, It's just that wasn't a look from someone who's happy.

You'd reaffirm it to yourself mentally, you were fucked up.

"How many questions will your exam have?" It was the beginning of the week, while Sunghoon was with his computer corroborating some excels, Jake was near the window facing the outside, smoking a cigarette. "Ten." The atmosphere was quiet despite how Park pressed the keyboard. "There will be seven development questions and three activities." "Can I see?" Jake took his last puff on his cigarette and then threw it out the window, so that it would fall, only God knows where. He walked over to where Sunghoon was centered and lowered his torso slightly so that he could properly see the questions.

What Sunghoon had shown him was a Google docs, and Sim inadvertently diverted his gaze to the bar of pages that Sunghoon had open. "Daddy cums harder... Pussy squirting..." As Jake continued reading, Sunghoon closed the window, showing only the excel presentation, despite his poker face Jake knew him well enough to know he was embarrassed. "I can't believe you have those pages open when you're working."

"It's none of your business, Sim." Jake smiled as he saw Sunghoon's face turn red, it seems like they never had this kind of conversation. "You know I watched that video what you recommended me." Jake moved the chair next to Sunghoon, sitting up and spreading his legs to get into a comfortable position. "What are you talking about?" Sunghoon's eyes were protected by the lenses of his glasses, which did not detach from the screen, but one of his skills was multitasking. "SluttyMila... Did you see her last video?" Jake managed to stop this from being so, Sunghoon's eyes quickly moved to Jake's figure upon hearing that name.

"No, why?" As he waited for Sim's response, his fingers worked on the computer to open google again and search for the Pornhub account. "It's impossible that you didn't watch it, if it became viral." When he opened the page he found the thumbnail in which he was a participant, he tried not to smile at this so he just licked his lips. "It's fucking insane, you have to watch it." Looking at the statistics, he understood what Jake meant.

48M views. 368,7k Likes. 42k Comments.

"I'll watch it when I get home." He was definitely going to do it. It doesn't matter that he starred in it, that he was there to live it, he needed to see that moment from the perspective of an observer. However, it was work time, even though he had been carried away by lust several times, his co-worker was there with him, although he knew him too well to know what was so morbid that perhaps he would be able to jerk off with him in college.

"Do you have to teach later?" Jake shook his head, staring at the ceiling. "I have an hour to spare, I think I'll be left alone scheduling the next class for course C." Jake got up from his chair to go get his briefcase, which when he opened it took out one of the perfumes he carried everywhere, Jo Malone Blackberry & Bay, to cover up the smell of tobacco that had permeated his clothes. "What about you?" Sunghoon's response was immediate, turning off the computer and putting it in his briefcase, then getting up from his chair and heading for the door. "Course A." Exactly, your course.

Sunghoon said goodbye to Jake, leaving him completely alone in the professors room. He had nothing to do, so he simply spent some of his time looking out the window, to the school corridors, until he saw some students loitering. He got up from his seat and opened the door, looking in the direction of both boys, who were astonished to see Jaeyun in the doorframe, characteristically not at his best.

"Don't you have a class to attend, guys?" his voice demanded authority from the frightened looks of both guys. "Y-yes.. I'm sorry," one of them replied. "What's your course?" asked Sim. The guys looked at each other as if to say 'we're fucked up'. "Course B." Without having to say a word, Jake watched the young people vanish from his sight, but the presence of another figure walked in front of him, recognizing who it was and forcing her by his arm into the professors room.

He wasn't aware of the force he applied to your arm, causing you to complain a bit about the pain it had caused. "Jake, that hurt." "Why have you been ignoring me since Wednesday?" he asked authoritatively. Since Jake had treated and looked at you that day, you hadn't liked him at all, even though you knew it was partly your fault for leaving him alone that morning, but you didn't want to face him again. "I'm so sorry, I'm just..." interrupted you. "Give me a reason to know why you left me alone." You had a hot face with embarrassment, staring at the floor tiles because you couldn't look him in the eye, so he just grabbed you by the chin, not putting much force like he did when he grabbed your arm, and forced you to look at him.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" it was in vain what he did, for likewise your dilated pupils remained over the buttons of his shirt. "You don't..." "Then tell me why." "I was embarrassed of what I did." You swallowed hard for lying to him, knowing inwardly that you didn't know why you had done it. "Embarrassed of what?" Jake's hands let you go, now moving away from you to leave you standing trembling as he enjoyed it from a different point of view. "Maybe because not every day I sleep with someone 14 years older than me." to Jake's ears your answer was believable, taking him by surprise because he was also smart enough to know your body language.

"You're a young lady, that doesn't take away from the fact that you're an adult." Jake grabbed the chair he had previously sat in and rested his ass on it again. You watched him move through space, standing still at the only point where you felt comfortable at the time. "Why don't you come here and apologize? You must be mature enough to accept your mistakes." Little by little you moved, around the table and in front of him, keeping your eyes down to look him in the eye. "How can I get you to forgive me?" "Get on your knees." your knees made contact with the floor, however it didn't hurt as much because they were padded by your jeans.

"Wanna know something?" you spoke, as Jake's hand caressed your cheek. "I felt bad about how you looked at me the other day." Jake chuckle underneath, letting out a voice you hadn't heard before, an even deeper voice. "Do you know how bad I felt when you left me in my bed all alone?" To all this, his fingers were still massaging your face, but neither of you was happy. "Being embarrassed is not the same as being a dick." But his hand advanced to the nape of your neck and grabbed your hair, unconsciously you moaned. "Believe me, I have no bad intentions with you, but you make it so difficult for me."

"Do I make it hard for you?" his eyes became so connected that they even electrocuted. "Do I make you hard?" you smiled, feeling Jake's hand loosen your hair, freeing you from his grip. As much as you had his crotch in front of you, it was impossible to see his erection because of his black pants, so you just went up your hand down his legs until you reached his bulge, confirming that yes, he was hard. "You're so disgusting that you don't even ask for my consent." Your mischievous hand made its way to the zipper of his pants, pulling them down and brushing the fly against his painful erection. "You're so disgusting that you don't even mind getting a blowjob at your workplace." Jake licked his lips.

"Who's going to give me a blowjob?" he asked, his lips half-parted. “Me” Without warning Jake's cock was already on the outside, being connected to his boxer by those sharp threads of precum, which were still shooting out of his tip. Jake didn't even stop you, he just looked you in the eye and without saying a word gave you the green card, shaking his head signaling you to start your work.

You were so right. He was a pervert, a disgusting, a completely pathetic man for letting you do this to him in the place where he's supposed to be working. His elbow rested on the table and the hand of that same arm was in charge of supporting his face preventing any kind of sound from coming out of his mouth.

And perhaps he, too, was ashamed for letting a woman much younger than him do this to him, knowing that he could not be satisfied with any woman his age. Not even his ex-wife made him feel this way, so he could spread his legs all day long while you kept your mouth busy making him feel the way he deserved after a long day at work.

Your tongue worked wonders on his dickhead. You knew that he wanted you to go deeper, you could tell by how he looked at you and how he refrained from straining with his hand, he only held your hair to avoid making a curl.

You were going to do whatever you wanted with him, after all, his body language is not an order.

Jake felt his tip throbbing, causing him to growl and close his eyes very tightly and tremble in your presence. "You're doing amazing." He didn't know how to support himself. His head was asking him to stretch back and his pleasure was asking him to keep watching your tongue intertwine in his length. It was even better than watch porn.

Every thought that was going through his head vanished when you finally decided to put a small part of his cock in your mouth. "Even smaller than your tiny dripping pussy, huh?" he said with little force, as he was using it to hold himself in the armrest of his seat.

It didn't even take much effort to get it all the way into your mouth, apparently for Jake it was enough, as his trembling was the warning you had ignored, causing threads of cum to be deposited in your mouth out of nowhere.

Finally, when his charge finished releasing his insides, his hand gently held your chin to force you to look at him. "Swallow it." It took you a while due to your throat still hurting, but you made it, making Jake give you a smile for pleasing him. "You look beautiful with your teary eyes, my sunshine"

At the end of the session, you got up and after this you played a little with Jake, giving him kisses, talking about other subjects.

You missed Professor Park's class, but it was worth it. When the hour passed, you tried to leave but Jake stopped you before you tried to do anything. "Y/N."

"Tell me." You turned your gaze to him. "Do you think you could wait for me in the parking lot?" you saw him curious, waiting for him to keep talking. "Would you come to my house again? Please."

You didn't think twice before speaking again. "Okay, I'll wait for you there, Jae." Jake waited for you to walk out the door so he could weaken himself by the nickname you had given him.

Now your best friend was throwing a tantrum. "Who are you going to go with if not with me?" you felt her jealousy, but you also left laughing at how angry she looked. "Someone's waiting for me."

"Who?" she said, almost shouting, surprised by your confession. "Don't tell me it's..." With what you had told her the other day, it was noticeable that she had already realized who the person you were referring to was. You smiled shyly. "Well, actually I have something to tell you too."

Both made it all the way out of college. You were going back inside to wait for Jake, but you were willing to accompany your friend so she wouldn't be alone. "What happened?" Your friend gave you a big hug, what she usually does before saying goodbye to you, and she didn't say anything, until long seconds later when you saw her walking away to get to the bus stop. "Mr. Park. Check your messages later." You opened your mouth in surprise. From how stunned you were, you could only watch your friend laugh and pick up her pace, doing nothing else. You clearly understood her comment.

Sometimes the best friends’ connection can lead them to have the same anecdote without the other knowing about it.

As surprised as you are, you had something pending. You walked back into the university, specifically in the parking lot. The truth is that you expected Jake to be out of his car waiting for you, but you realized that he wasn't when the luxury car in front of you honked at you, startling you. Even though the windows were tinted you could see a handsome man through them, which made you approach the car and open the door to get in.

"Look at the back seat." Not a 'hello', not a 'how are you?', just orders like the ones he used to give. "They're for you." Seeing the back, you saw a piece of silky but rough, shapeless paper. You grabbed it and turned it over and realized it was a bouquet of flowers. A set of daisies, tulips and lilies, with a letter inside. It gave off a very intense smell, which you liked, you couldn't help but bury your nose in it. "Thank you so much." Jake didn't see you, but you could see him, being privileged to visualize his beautiful smile. "I chose them thinking of you. I'm glad you like them."

My lord, it was impossible for this man to let your breath rest for at least a second.

Before you knew it, they were already down the middle of the street on their way to Jake's house. "Did something happen to your friend? I saw that she was grumbling when you walked with her," he asked. "It's just that we always wait for the bus at the bus stop together," he chuckled. You looked out the window as you continued to smell the scent of flowers brushing against your nose. "This time you also told her that you went with me?"

You raised an eyebrow. "What?" "You two are very loud in class, I think you should speak more quietly." Jake wasn't looking at you, but he could feel the heat you radiated from embarrassment. "Jake, what the fuck did you hear?"

He cleared his throat, "I did something wrong yesterday... But I don't regret abo-" Jake couldn't hold back his laughter as he did his impression, and you didn't let him finish, as you punched him to shut him up. You left the flowers in your lap and looked out the window to avoid making eye contact, even though you were still a little tempted by how Jake had spoken.

"Girl, don't get mad." His voice was distorted because his laughter was still intact. When he finally calmed down he saw that you were still looking out the window, he ran his eyes back to the road and placed his hand on your thigh, which gave you goosebumps. "How about we go out to dinner tonight?" You felt his thumb move back and forth, finally getting you to look at him.

"Together?" Jake nodded. "You don't have to do this just to fuck me properly." You felt like he was joking. "I don't need a luxury dinner to fuck you properly. Besides, that wasn't in my plans, I just wanted to hug you and fall asleep next to you."

You smiled at the calm tone I use to tell you. "Are you serious?" Jake, again, nodded. "Well, you could suck me off..."

He kept one hand on the steering wheel, and hearing those words come out of your mouth, he lightly squeezed the thigh he was holding. "Okay, but only tonight."

– taglist ₊ ˖ ་. @hollyoongs @sunoozznn @sansluvr @simhinata @addictedtohobi @isylvr @gimmeurtummy @japieeey @tasnim10 @rikiwaify-blog @yohanabanana @kenzory @lilyuwon @xiaoderrrr @seochannnn @sumzysworld @enhalover12 @loljaeyunz @belowbun @hearts4itoshi @literallyags @antivenus @linfluenza @wonlvkay @skylaly @whatchulookin2 @river-demon-slayer

[witchywitchy]

I wanted to share something personal because I don't think a lot of you understand the influence of the West and its atrocities on an Arab child's upbringing. English is not my first language; I learnt it initially due to my interest in the language and Western cultures. However, seeing the true face of the West motivated me to continue learning the language to dismantle the false image of Arabs and Muslims which was portrayed by the West. I also talk about how this impacted my standing with the Palestinian cause. Bear with me as this post is long and a little messy, but I need to try and give everyone a clear and full image as much as I can.

I grew up consuming Western media due to my fascination with the English language. However I noticed the lack of Muslim and Arab representation.

When I started seeing representation later on, it was mostly Arabs and Muslims being depicted as 'terrorists' and 'barbarics'.

When a Muslim woman is depicted, she is depicted as 'oppressed' and in need of 'saving'.

I was on social media starting from a very young age. Seeing people online describe my people as 'terrorists' was not only scary, but also confusing. Why am I as an Arab Muslim child -who's living a normal childhood as everyone else- being labelled as a 'terrorist' by the West? Why are people claiming all Arab and Muslim children are trained to use guns by ISIS or/and Hamas? I remember asking my parents as a kid "Is this a real gun with the police officer?" Because I only saw weapons in movies.

I asked questions such as "Why do they think Arabs = Muslims?" The lack of acknowledgment of Christian and Jewish Arabs and non-Arab Muslims confused me.

Why were Muslim women always 'oppressed' in these movies and TV shows I saw? This is not as common as they make it seem. Why are they using the struggle of some Muslim women to demonize an entire religion? Why are they pretending to be saviours when they're actually contributing to further oppression of Muslim women? Why are they weaponizing the awful struggle of some Muslim women against the vast majority of Muslim women? (White feminism is not saving us. It's actually a form of oppression of Muslim women)

Misrepresentation bothered me and made me angry and disappointed. I couldn't finish watching a movie or an episode of a TV show if I saw any mentions of Muslims or/and Arabs, because I knew what would happen next.

When it comes to the Palestinian cause, every Arab grew up watching endless footage of Palestinians being brutally murdered LIVE. Everything and all the footage all of you are surprised to see during this genocide, were a part of our upbringing.

When I was a kid I stumbled upon a newspaper in the house with a headline about a Palestinian father who returned to his house and found all his children shot. And I remember the image very well. The father was holding a prayer mat with people holding him as he broke down on his knees. His dead children were on the floor next to each other. Seeing this image of children my age murdered by the Israeli occupation shocked me. I remember my parents having to hide the newspaper from me because of the impact this image had on me.

I had to start reading into politics at a young age, and I realized that everything that Western media was trying to portray about the West being 'civilized' was a lie. How can you be civilized if you're a murderer or/and contribute to the murder of the innocent?

When I learnt about the history of imperialism, colonialism, slavery,...etc. growing up, I recognized the pattern that colonialists use and I saw that the colonizers of yesterday, are the same as today, except Western media is doing a great job covering for them nowadays, and a lot of people only started noticing that recently.

The West seemed fascinating to me as a child, but after seeing the horrendous false images that're being portrayed of my people in the West, all of my fascination turned into anger and motivation to fight against it.

The real terrorists in the world are not the brown and bearded men, veiled women, or the innocent children. The real terrorists are the ones who set the stage for the murder of innocent people, the exploitation of their resources, using propaganda and painting an image of the innocent that cannot be more false and racist, and the fascists that put on a 'civilized' mask.

I will forever stand with my Palestinian brothers and sisters. I will forever defend my Arab and Muslim brothers and sisters, and I won't give room to any misrepresentation. Enough is enough.

Edit: I wanted to add that growing up, I was scared of telling people about where I'm from, my religion, and what language I speak due to the microaggression and discrimination I was subjected to. Not to mention the amount of times I saw on the news Arabs or/and Muslims getting killed in Western countries (aka hate crimes).

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[donatellawritings]

Would you ever do a part 2 to sweetheart reader and rafe’s breakup? I wanna see how they get back together 🥰

it had been about three months, since rafe had let you go, his oh-so doting sweetheart, the apple of his very eye. with the news of rafe cameron no longer having his latin sweetheart under his arm spreading around the island like a rancid wildfire, it didn’t take long for rafe to find himself regretting his decision. but make no mistake, rafe had made it his business to keep a watchful eye on your every move, and making sure to remain undetected while doing so. i mean, at the end of the day, you would always be his sweet girl and what kind of a man would he be, if he didn’t watch over you.

and sure, it took you a few weeks to find your footing as a now single and absolute knockout of a woman, yet you stood your ground — remaining tooth-achingly sweet to everyone who came your way, even when you’d politely reject their shameless advances towards you. and boy, did you make rafe’s sick little heart swell with pride as you made sure to keep a piece of him around you at all times, your gifted tiffany & co tennis bracelet constantly glinting against the north carolina sun with each passing day.

but, you were always such an emotional and overly-sensitive doll — and today just happened to be one of those days where you couldn’t seem to get your papi, rafe out of your pretty little head.

“i just — i want him with me!” you sobbed, streaky and watery black tinged tears rolling down your blush and concealer-enhanced cheeks as you pursed your puffy lips into a tearful pout, “he’s supposed to be mine!” you whined, your swollen tits stretching and heaving against rafe’s prized collegiate t-shirt as you took hiccuping breaths.

you poor cousin, kiara could only take so much of your incessant sobs and heartfelt rambles, until she’d taken the liberty of personally contacting rafe, a task that she wouldn’t even dream of doing, if it were for any person, aside from you, her doting and oh-so lovesick cousin.

you see, today was supposed to be a simple sleepover, the two of you had made it a tradition to spend one night together, where you could catch up on the latest gossip, prance around in nothing but pathetically poor excuses for panties and oversized t-shirts, while pampering each other with messily applied clay face masks and smeared mani-pedis. and sure, kiara missed those cherished moments with you, but she was painfully aware that you had been keeping up a facade since the moment rafe brought you back home. and she had to give you credit for it, you made it a point to keep your cool in public, you didn’t want to be a bother so you maintained your doll-like appearance and poise mannerisms.

yet, she couldn’t ignore the way you cried yourself to sleep at night — the walls that separated your bedrooms were far too thin.

it didn’t take long for rafe to respond to your concerned cousin — and it was crystal clear to him that it was time to bring you back home. the anxious young man had paid his dues, hell, the pain of not having you around was nearly enough to have him cave after the first twenty-four hours of him breaking things off. but, he had to make good on his promise — he had to become a man, not only for you, but for the sake of his own sanity, or what was left of it.

after about fifteen minutes of you struggling to put together a coherent sentence, you rubbed the tip of your button nose, with a defeated sniffle, licking over you dried lips as you wiped your watery bambi eyes with the back of your hand. you had cried yourself to exhaustion, your pretty little head throbbing from your hysterics as you dozed into a light sleep. you were so out of it, you didn’t even realize that kiara had left your bedroom.

rafe was careful with his footsteps as he entered your bedroom, dressed in a crisp button-up and ironed slacks as he sighed at the sight of you sound asleep. his bright blues didn’t miss the streaks of dried tears that clung to your cherub cheeks, your swollen lips slightly parted as crouched at your bedside, a soft smile on his pink lips as he ran a gentle hand over your messy hair.

letting his greed get the best of him, rafe pressed his eager lips to the apple of your cheek, his fingernails lightly scratching at your scalp as he soothingly lulled you out of your sleep, “hi, baby,” he mumbled, loud enough for your doe eyes to widen as your lips pursed into a wobbly pout, warm tears burning at your waterline.

bringing your small hand to knuckle away the troublesome tears that threatened to spill, you let out a needy whimper, “m-missed you,” you mewled, wispy lashes now clumpy with tears.

“hey-hey, c’mon mama, please don’t start cryin’,” rafe breathes out, pulling your hands away from your flushed face as the two of you finally lock eyes for the first time in months, “fuck — m’so sorry, my princess,” rafe sighs, each and every ounce of his resolve dissipating as he brings your knuckles to his lips, peppering soft kisses to the bony skin.

biting down into the fat of your bottom lip, you leaned up towards rafe, nudging his nose with yours, “can we go home,” you mutter, allowing your palms to cradle both sides of rafe’s chiseled face as his hold on your fists drop to your wrists, “w-we can talk about everything later, i just- i just missed you, papi,” you assure rafe, a soft smile tugging on your lips as he raises his glazed eyes to meet yours.

“yes, baby, we can go home,” rafe’s shoulders soften, his forehead leaning flushed against yours as he lets out a shaky breath, “i kept my promise, baby — i kept my promise,” he speaks, more so to himself than to you as you nod at his words.

rafe deserved to be heard, and you’d always be a listening ear for him.

“i stopped using, a-and i got that boat y’liked so much, i got it just for you, mama — gonna take you wherever y’wanna go,” rafe rambles, leaving you a smiley mess as you simply gaze into his eyes with nothing, but naive love and adoration, “m’gonna be home more, and i—” rafe continued, getting lost in his own thoughts.

“i love you,” you cut in, a giddy smile now playing on your pretty face as rafe can’t help but blush at your words.

“i love you too, let’s go home,” rafe brings his lips to your forehead, allowing his tired eyes to flutter close as he soaks in the kiss for a moment, taking the time to breathe in your smell.

bringing your legs to hook around his waist, rafe keeps a secure hand over your ass as he carries you out of your bedroom, making sure to send kiara an appreciative nod as the two of you exit the home. it didn’t take long for you to fall back asleep, once you were secure in the passenger seat of rafe’s truck, soft snores leaving your parted lips as your soft cheek remained mushed against rafe’s firm shoulder, your hand securely interlaced with his.

rafe couldn’t ignore the way his eyes kept flickering down to your empty ring finger, his heart swelling at the mere thought of him finally having you all to himself, forever.

and he wouldn’t fuck it up, this time.

[inupibaldspot]

Blue is the color of royalty.

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Staring Gojo as the crown prince and you crown princess in an arranged marriage! Sexual intonation is there but nothing major. Mentions of death and cheating as in infidelity. 4.3k words (this is usually too long for me to write)

Gojo remembers that day very clearly, his throat felt constricted, breath felt raspy with the strenuous inhale and exhales, the cuff of his shirt now soaked wet as he wipes his tears furiously trying to console himself amidst the crowd.

He was six when it was announced by the emperor, his father announced an arrangement of love between the Royal Family of Gojo and the Duke of the South. The young crown prince with as equally young you, the second child to the Duke of the South.

Through his tears he hears clanks of fork and plate beside him as his two friends were eating away while Gojo was wallowing in despair, he didn’t want to marry you—he has never even seen you!

Shoko the daughter of the Duke of the North simply liked coming to parties because this was the only place she didn’t have restrictions on how much sweets she could eat. While Geto Suguru, son of Count Geto simply came because he was told to by his father.

He sniffs as he tries to console himself, he already had a fixed idea on how he wants to get married and it was not this! He wanted to save a damsel in distress-be of noble or commoner blood and wanted that event to be a ‘love at first sight situation.’

He peeps over to where a outburst was as people surrounded a small figure muttering congratulations. Surely you were there. He thinks that you were probably surrounded by leeching adults, awaiting an opportunity for a slip-up which would cause an exaggerated rumors. Adults from high society were simply like that.

Gojo stands on the ball of his feet, trying to see over the crowd and from the push in between the cracks of the crowd, he does see you.

And you were beautiful.

You were adorned with the finest jewelry, size fitting your petite figure, with a beautiful dress adorned with classic lace and pearls. He swears in between his mesmerization that you were perfect.

So mesmerized he loses balance and falls over, his butt now on the floor as he soothe the ache while trying to stand up. Geto cackled at the sight. “ What’s wrong? Your expression is so dumb right now,Satoru.”

Gojo clears his throat as he tries to maintain dignity, the dignity of the crown prince. “The lady I am betrothed to is a pleasure to the eye. I am pleased…”

Geto sighs at his friend’s already being stupid. “But you know what I heard-“ he starts. “The young child of the Duke is like a machine.”

Gojo sooner or later (over the years you visited him quite a lot, often staying over at the palace as the travel time between the capital and the south was quite long.) he totally gets what Geto’s words that day meant.

You were literally a golden child for the Duke and now, a golden wife for him; the purest of all pure bred nobles. any work done is to be completed in a day, you oversee everything that is going on in the palace and doing a good job—so much so that his mom the empress was even letting you over see some matters.

“y/n,let’s go out on a walk.” Gojo would beam, excitedly walking over to you. “The afternoon sun is pleasant today.”

You had a straight look on your face as you stare into Gojo’s eyes, as if you were judging ever inch of him. “I rather suggest you get some training done, your highness. Your body seems quite feeble.”

Gojo gwaks at you who is now walking away,with a book at hand either to the library or his mother’s side—the empress.

Somewhere along the line Gojo realizes that you were coming over to butter up the emperor and the empress. You were not there to see him. Gojo seethed . Over time any attraction he felt when he first saw you is now crumbled and blown into dust by the winds. He could not care less for a person who was so busy to even spare a glance at him—fiancée or not!

When he was fifteen he was sent to a neighboring smaller country which excelled in military and academic—the country was said to be 10 years infront of any other when it came to their literary and research.

Gojo felt like he could breathe again, his bone pops as he stretches as he is finally free. Away from you for atleast four years. This new found freedom away from your judging eyes was making feel as if he were floating—he studied he swears, his academic score was always great but more than that he also spend his royal gold coins as he drinks away even though he was under age , and maybe even a few gropes to the beautiful ladies passing by.

This was the first time Gojo had been to the red light district and certainly it was not the last. But who would scold him, he was the son of the one of the most powerful empire Gojo Satoru and was the crown prince. Who would are say anything to him? The thinks to himself as he lays currently in bed, chest bare with a lady who is not his fiancée.

But don’t worry too much, Geto was by his side too! If his parents know about this— Gojo is at least relieved that he won’t go down alone.

At the age of nineteen, he finally comes back to the empire,now standing at a taller height and broad shoulders. The air around Gojo itself feels mature…and extremely attractive—to bad he was engaged at the age of six. He loves the gaze the maids near him gives, affirming and stroking his already enflated ego.

He sends a flirtatious wink at one of the better looking maids with a larger bottom as he signals a ‘follow-me’ as his head nods to a empty room.

Just as he was about to turn the corner,a figure popped up. He had crumbled when he was six and he has once again at nineteen. You stepped out of the corner in a beautiful blue dress with inside frills of white lace, the blue puff on your shoulder adorned with gold and you wearing the same metal on your ears and neck made it so much more ethereal.

“Your highness.My apologies, I’ve been so busy with the revolt at the south border it must have slipped my mind.” You speak, why were you not as fazed as he was. “I had not known you had arrived.” Why was your heart not racing like his was?

But he must say, the years have been good to you. You were taller but now shorter than he was, the fats of your cheeks now slimmed down making the rest of your features more enhanced ,more beautiful. You blink confused as Gojo’s eyes trail around, relishing every part of now an adult you. In this instance you are the most beautiful piece of existence there is in man kind.

“What?” He wears a smug expression as he crosses his hands and stands tall. “Did ya miss me?”

You blink, as if you were genuinely confused. “Yes I did. You are my fiancé after all,your highness.”

And there goes Gojo’s resolution to not fall for you—just with these simple words, he is once again head over heels for you.

You did miss him after all! Gojo giggles to himself when he remembers the interaction,while Geto sits on the sofa, as he sips in the evening tea that was brought in. “But it’s been what? Four years since been you’ve been away.” Geto says, trying his best to control his smirk as he sees thunder clouds form on top of Gojo’s head. “Maybe y/n had been seeing someone else.”

Gojo shakes the part of his brain which reprimands him for his hypocrisy, he had been with women, lots of them when he was away but now the simple idea of a man being with you, makes him worry as if he is ill. His stomach burns with jealousy; it would be worse if it were a single man.

Many men would be worse than a few, a few would be worse than two, a two will be worse…than one? No-

—It would be the worst if you have a simply been with one man who you’ve completely undone your heart to. Does your expression form to a loving one—one he is yet to see? Do you whisper sweet words into that man’s undeserving ears? Oh how he wishes there could be a battlefield where he could fight for your love then he would not lose!

Shoko blows out a puff of smoke, which comes out of a tobacco filled-elaborately design hookah—pipe. “Nope. Your fiancée has been single as a nun.” She says in a matter of fact tone.

“Wha-wait…none?” Gojo manages to whisper out, head still wrapping around Shoko’s reply. “She must have! She does well in high society, is beautiful, anything she wears becomes a fashion statement, and she known for being intelligent! She must had a man or two to console her in the absence of her fiancé!”

Nobles have always done that, husbands leaving for the red light district as soon as he is away from his wife, while the girls wife is in bed with younger workers in bed while the husband was away.

Shoko thinks Gojo is simply bratty as she waves him off, taking another pull of air from the pipe. “Nope—your lady doesn’t play,I think I’ve only ever seen her in work mode.” While Gojo giggles to himself on how Shoko referred to you as ‘his’ lady making her and a Geto raise an eyebrow.

And boy— in work mode you certainly where in his absence of his studies because now he sits in the dinner table,completely silent.

The long table filled with lavish food,the royal couples will most likely never finish and Gojo, the crown prince sits with his mother and father, the emperor and empress with his fiancée.

It was then when he realized—no felt it to his bones that he was replaced! Your smart brain and smooth tongue had worked his way into his parents' hearts and now he sits silently, not knowing how to join into the conversation as if he was the one who was to be married into the family.

“My…your highness.” Your doll like eyes blink at him and with a flutter of your lashes and a hand placed on his thighs, Gojo feels heat rush to his cheeks. “You must eat.”

“Gojo!” His father shouts from the other side of the dinner table. “Don’t be picky, you’re an adult now!” His mother giggled, bringing her hands to cover her mouth.

“Oh shut up, old man.” Gojo seethed , he stands on his feet, ready to walk away from the table. But of course his body freezes when you hold onto the fabric on his pants. He grits his teeth.

You were looking at him with a pout, eye brows furrowed as you shake your head in a disapproving manner. “You mustn’t speak to his majesty in that manner, your highness.”

But Gojo wasn’t really listening as his eyes trail down to your cleavage which was entirely exposed from this angle. God—he almost sees red, so much so that it even drips red…drips red?

You shriek, losing your cool as your fiancé stands with a confused look and blood dripping down his nose. You quickly turn to the Royal couple, “My apologies your majesties but the crown prince seems rather unwell so we will take our leave.” You grab a cloth piece from the table and rush to aid Gojo.

You place the piece of cloth on his nose as you lead him by his fingers with a gentle tug, you call out for the maids for help and a doctor while you make him sit on his bed.

The doctor shakes his head. “Your Majesty must’ve been stressed about something…or he may have overworked himself with something.”

You hum as you look at Gojo’s dumb look, a nostril filled with cotton. “What has been stressing your mind,your majesty?”

“Why don’t you think I have been overworking myself?!” He barks back, hand shooing away all of the workers in the room,leaving only him and you.

“Ever since you came back, you have simply been wasting your time away.” You shake your head as Gojo jumps,he is as guilty as charged. “You hardly even frequent the training grounds anymore, your majesty.”

Gojo turned his body and his eyes in your direction while he sits on his lavish bed as he reached out to wrap his hands around your hips,pulling you closer to him.

He rests his chin on your stomach as he looks up at you, you look down at him with a confused look. Why was he acting like this?

“Your majesty this, your majesty that—!” You almost laugh at the amount of sass in this man when he spoke those words. “Quit that and call me Satoru.” He demands.

You let out a smile, gojo thinking that this moment when he is graced with your smile has blessed his years to come. “Okay Satoru.” Gojo is simply undone when it came to you, a clumsy mess. As he feels hot in his head.

“Oh my —“ you shriek again. “Satoru, your other nose is also bleeding.”

Gojo thinks the best way to begin the day if at times when he sees you at the training grounds. After you had reprimanded him for skipping his training, the following day he wake up at 5am and trains till his training was completed by about 8am.

He sometimes see you walk down the near by pathway as he wipes his sweat, clinging to his body from the now heating sun and intense training. Gojo normally trains with Geto Suguru, now a Royal Knight of the Palance, as he is the only one who can keep up with him.

And when ever he does see you, people see the flowers bloom and the air suddenly becomes a tad bit hotter. Gojo waves his hand in the air like a child waiting for you to do the same. You lift your hands gently and offer a small wave, smile hidden shyly behind your other hand, a dignified princess indeed.

But one thing bad about your visits to the training ground? You were alone.

Gojo swings his sword, acting cool making his muscles on his back ripple as he knows your presence is in attendance for todays training. He is sure to impress you!

After his routine was done, he turns to you giving the most handsome stare he could muster with a personal gust of wind to help him today only to find you with another man… You, the crown princess with Haibara, another knight belonging to Geto’s team.

To make matters worse, you looked so adorable and cozy,body heat completely warm as he noticed you were in a jacket, a larger one, one belonging to the military. A jacket that was not his!

Gojo rushes over and quickly takes of your jacket gently before he swings it on the ground, before he gives you his jacket despite your complaint on how ‘Haibara was simply making sure I was not cold.’

He pout as you give him a confused look. “When ever you’re cold, just come to me… Don’t use other men’s jacket…”

There was one day when Gojo realized how easy you could slip away, gone forever.

You and him were in the Royal Garden, Gojo beaming at the thought that you finally decided to hang around him. Your eyes opens as you take a sip from the cup ,confused as to why Gojo was acting like a puppy when thier owner comes back home. Loveless marriage or not, you had to act like you two were in love. The palace walls have ears after all so sometimes you liked to humor Gojo—just a little.

Gojo hums as he has his chin on his hands,pupils turned to heart shapes as he beams at how lovely you are. When you suddenly dropped your cup as you look into his eyes. “y/n…?” Just then blood seeps through the crack of your lips as you tumble from your seat.

Before you fall to the ground,Gojo is quick to reach your arms before you head ground first. He shouts for help as workers and doctors rushed to them,as he wraps his hands around you pleading to the gods above that you are safe. “My love…please come back to me.”

You did gain consciousness the next morning to find Gojo looking at you with gaping mouth, the color under his eyes were darkened. Did he not sleep for the duration of your unconscious state? “Sato..ru..?”

His eyes well up as the skin near his eyes and cheeks flush red, with the first stream of tears you are engulfed and pushed into his arms as he bleeds your ears on how worried he was.

While he was away, he had not been a good human being if he were to be honest. Many of his letters from family,friends and you remain closed, probably burned to ashes by now. If he had gone through his letter maybe he would have been aware that it was found that you had a rather frail health.

While Gojo sniffles into the crook of your neck( he is definitely taking advantage of the situation ) you smile to yourself, a tiny one. Yes. This is the Gojo you remember being engaged to. A clumsy spoiled but good kid.

Shhh—Did you know the walls have ears?

But this time they are talking. There are whispers among the maids, worker, butlers and even the stable cleaner that her highness the crown princess has an affair—a lover. I mean after all your fiancé is a tall attractive man who is literally the crown prince. If such a person was showing such open affection but you were not reciprocating it? Hmmm? Suspicious! I rest my case.

“I was careless…” you mutter to yourself as your look outside the tall palace windows, eyes a few workers who were cleaning up stray leaves by the poarch.

“About what,love?”

A sudden reply to a question where you weren’t expecting an answer made you jump slightly as you peered to see Gojo looking at you with a smile on his face. “Good morning,love.” His hand reached around your waist as he bends down and kisses your forehead. Gojo has been acting far too much like a husband ever since he has been back from his studies and you were still not used to it.

“Kyaa— look it’s the prince and princess.”

“They’re so love dovey first thing in the morning.”

“I guess the rumors on the crown princess is fake…”

You two stilled as hushed whispers were heard. Gojo seemed rather displeased that he was interrupted plus evesdropped on as his hands comically tighten into a fist. “Those insolent fools must not want their tongue…How dare they listen to us speak—“

But you on the other hand had your eyes wide, hands near your mouth as you gape in realization.

Bingo!

You quickly turn to Gojo who seems to still at the unfamiliar attention as he jumps slightly, as you walk closer and place your hand on his chest which sends his heart heat racing. “I need you to act like a lover to me.”

Gojo blinks once.

Twice.

“Was I not a lover to you all these time—?!” He barks, a vein popped on his forehead.

You stare at him with pretty blinks of confusion along with furrowed eyebrows, “what are you saying? You’re my fiancé through arrangement.” You say in a matter of fact tone. “You and I are not lovers, Satoru.”

Gojo bites the inside of his cheeks, his heart is filled with unwanted emotions—anger, sadness,disappointment,shame? Fine! If he wants you to act like a lover— he’ll act like a love. Your lover.

Before you know it, one of his hands slips around your waist as the other grabs your face, his nose now against your cheeks making you shudder at the sudden change in vibe.

He smears his lips around the corner of your lips first, your makeup which took too long for your taste now smeared. He decides to now nip your lower lips, making you gasp as you feel him make tiny licks and nips. “Sa-satoru…” he groans when you say his name.

His lips are finally on yours as the corner of Gojo’s lips tug upwards when he was met in realization that you are eagerly waiting for him with soft presses of your lips as his tongue slips in pretty easily. Something bubbles inside you chest when your thoughts trail to the fact that Gojo was an exemplary kisser—your chest tightens harder when you are reminded of Gojo’s visits to women of the red light district.

You were aware of these but back in the days, you were not bothered at his actions at all—Gojo was simply beautiful after all. You did not mind ever since you first got engaged but at this moment, it tightened your heart as if leaves a nasty aftertaste.

You probably don’t know that Gojo has never stepped inside such business ever since he got back home—to you.

As he sucks, wet presses on your tongue and bites —just as you were feeling lightheaded and wanting more Gojo pulls away.

“Satoru…?” Gojo muttered as swear when he sees your disheveled state, hair a mess, clothing slightly crumpled and lipstick smudged in the sexiest way possible.

“What?” He feigns cool as if there isn’t a significant tightening in his pants as he turns around. “I’m just acting as your lover.” If he wants you to act like a lover. He will do as you say.

Now the walls are giggling, yeah…this phrase isn’t going to cut it anymore. The maids whisper hush talks to the chefs and chefs to the delivery man and then the public. The news is that the crown prince and princess were so in love, they could hardly be apart.

The crown prince sweeping the princess of the ground pulled into a hug, the crown prince sheepishly nuzzling into the princess’s crook of her neck as he comes from behind, quick passionate kisses along the lavish hallways when they think no one is looking( the pair know that they are looking.)

The opportunist in you quickly suggests to his father that it is wise to release the copies of letters you had sent to him when he was away—yea, you made copies of your letters. The emperor was pleased, he laughed and entertained your suggestion. Gojo at this point has given up on making you realize his feelings and simply does what ever you say…

The public raved over the release making the royals more likable to the public, there were even talks on how they already could dream of you and Gojo as the ruling royals.

For the public that wish does come indeed true in the worst possible manner.

The emperor had suddenly fallen ill as he falls into a rough bloody cough, sometimes can hardly eat plus with no energy that he could barely stand. By rule book, in such scenarios the duty as the governor of the empire falls onto the crown prince—Gojo thinks he is ready, he was born to do this after all but all preparations were interrupted when the revolt in the South became a bigger issue more so because that is the region you came from.

Your father, the Duke’s troops kept getting ambushed and were losing morale quickly. Gojo watches you who was praying , to the gods that your father and your people be safe. If that is your wish, he shall be your god.

The same night Gojo groups up his men and marches south. This is the least a husband can do for his lover.

You almost faint when you hear this news,muttering nervously under her breath when you were having a fig-jam toast breakfast in bed. The toast falls from your mouth. “What?”

Now you think you are dreaming, it was one disaster after another! You gently rub circles on your father in law’s hand as Gojo’s father calms you. “It is a duty of a ruler to help his people… Gojo will come back victorious,my dear. You worry too much.”

The empress soothes you, otherwise a straight faced person with never an emotion on your face becomes such a mess for her son. As long as you are by Gojo’s side, his mother can stay assured for the rest of eternity. If you were by his side, Gojo will remain smiling.

It took one season for the idiot to arrived, his hands broken and now hangs on a sling. “I hope you’re not too angered by my actions.” Gojo knew he was wrong to march off that day, he was unprepared too but when he saw the tremble on your fingertips, he simply wants nothing but to make you secure, safe.

He watches you walk towards him before you say. “I think I am dreaming your highness, I had not known you had arrived.” You still has a straight faced look as if your fiancé is all injured with even a broken arm, voice still so steady.

Gojo laughs at this but just as he was about to reply with a snide remark he is cut off, your lips are on his. “You worry me too much, your highness. I fear you are not good for my heart.”

Gojo kisses you. His working hand snaking around your waist. Your lips are softer than he imagined it to be when he was away and when you let out a small moan he deepens it, stronger and desperate as if trying to mark every inch of you.

“How ever m-“ you push him away, gojo whine’s already craving the plush of your lips. “I am very displeased by your action. Even if you are the crown prince it is wiser if your discussed with the strategists and make a plan first. That was very—very unwise of you you highness. I cannot from the depth of my heart believe you would do something so stupid— honestly Gojo I thought you were so much smarter than that . Your behavior is very much unacceptable-“

Gojo almost bleeds from his ears as he listens to you lecture him, the crown prince, future ruler now on his knees. He fights back a smile fearing you would be further angered but his mind was filled with thoughts of , ‘shit, I can’t wait to be with this person for the rest of my life.

‎‧₊˚✧[Ending Thoughts ]✧˚: I almost made this a smut halfway through buahaha (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? Check out other here (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ) ♡

[ceruleanchillin]

But is she really yours? (141 x Reader)

Note(s) -

It's long, so be warned.

The guys are doing a little of what we like to call Dirty Mackin, and yes, I think this is something they’d all do in their own way.

Still working on getting those accents to come through, while not stepping into cringe/wrong territory. 

I apologize, this is a very messy format (borderline stream of consciousness), and I’m trying to figure out a cleaner way to do this. I hope it doesn’t hurt the reading experience.

And I am the only one who kinda wants to see the reverse scenario, where Reader tries to get the guys away from their trash gfs? 👀Thanks to @bunnyreaper for the idea, it wrote itself as I read that.

Simon:

Annoying. That was the first thing Simon thought of you. So of course you had to work at the only cafe near his flat that made tea the way he liked.

You were always on your phone, arguing with someone (he guessed a boyfriend), and he hated getting stuck at your register. The calls clearly distressed you, and he didn’t know why you kept taking them. Especially on the job.

You’d gotten his order wrong more times than he could count, and you were always having to turn around and ask him to repeat the things he wanted. It got to the point where he waited until the other barista’s line was open.

Unfortunately, other customers had done the same, and it was causing a backup.

Then there was the day. His day started as it always did on his off time. The three S’s, and then he was at the gym to get his time in when he knew it was mostly empty. Then finally, his black tea.

He sighed, mentally preparing himself for the wait before he entered. As expected, there was a line.

You were there, and you appeared to be deeply engaged in conversation with the only person at your counter.

He was surprised to see you had a customer. ‘Must not be a regular.’

As he got closer to the counter, he could overhear the whispered argument. The man wasn’t a customer at all, he presumed he was the boyfriend from the phone calls. Based on the things the two of you were saying, that made the most sense.

‘Great. Getting the live version today.’ Simon had to wonder how you kept this job. Were you the boss's daughter? Did you own a share? Could he steal enough of the signature black tea blend and go into hiding until he had to ship out again?

You looked exasperated, and your co-worker stepped over to your side, coming to your aid.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Simon groaned, realizing the wait would be longer. 

He stepped outside for a cigarette, making the mental decision that if by the time he was done with it there was still a line, he would forgo his drink that day.

He chose the alley on the side of the shop, not liking the openness of the sidewalk, and staked out against the opposite building’s wall.

He was halfway past the tip of his cigarette when the side door he’d been eyeing warily opened, and out came you.

You looked frustrated, anxious, and maybe a little embarrassed. He didn’t think you noticed him, instead, walking over to the dumpster and kicking it, hard. It sent a loud, tinny groan echoing through the alley. He narrowed his eyes, feeling that itch of frustration under his skin.

You noticed him finally, and stopped angrily muttering to yourself. Instead, you started talking to him. It was mostly an uninterrupted stream of dialogue for two minutes straight (he timed it), before he could finally understand you.

“Mandatory break! That’s the second one this week, can you believe that?”

He started to say yes, and that he hoped the third one won you a prize: getting fired. He kept his mouth shut though.

“It’s not even me, it’s my boyfriend. He means well, but he just…I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” You were searching for something in your apron, but he couldn’t tell what, out of the corner of his eye.

Simon flexed his fingers, eyes narrowing until the shop’s logo mural was a blur. You found it, and walked closer to him until he turned both eyes to you.

“Can I get a light?” You gestured with the unlit cigarette between your fingers to the one burning between his lips.

“Bloody. Fuckin’. Hell, Bird! S’not enough you keep half the fuckin’ place backed up on a good day, but then you prance your arse out here to annoy me some fuckin’ more? Fuck off.” He jabbed his pointer finger at the door you’d come out of.

The alley echoed his baritone, and somehow made his outburst sharper.

You stared at him like he’d taken his head off, instead of having bitten off yours. Eyes wide, bottom lip trembling, he thought you might cry, and he began to feel guilt grow in the pit of his stomach. He’d forgotten, in the midst of you stirring up similar agitation, that he wasn’t on base talking to some recruit dumped on him. 

You did cry, but once you started talking, he suspected it was more due to anger. “Fuck you! You fuck off, I work here!”

He ignored the small voice telling him ‘stop’, and fired back. “Work?” He snorted. “Real fuckin’ rich that is. Don’t confuse work with your million mandatory breaks.”

You clenched your fists, eyes wild with adrenaline and voice shrill with anger. “Go to hell. You’re just some freak in an alley who can’t remember when Halloween is. You don’t know me.”

You angrily wiped at your tears to no avail, as more quickly took their place, and then you started sobbing. 

Simon sighed, feeling like shit and wishing he’d held it together just a little more. “Alright. Alright. ‘Nuff of that now.”

“I’m not crying *hic* because of you…” you huffed, trying to get your voice under control. “Just go back to your cigarette. I hope you suck it up and *hic* choke!”

He chuckled, you were the first person in a while who’d lashed back out at his harsh disposition. At least to his face. “Was uglier than I should’ve been, but won’t pretend there wasn’t some truth to it.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re a shit barista, wanna form a band?” His lips quirked into a smirk around his near-stub cigarette.

For a beat there was silence, until the two of you burst into laughter. Yours a raucous peal of giggles, and his, raspy chuckles.

“Well, you earned that light. Got more balls then a lot of soldiers I know.”

The two of you stayed in that alley for thirty minutes just riffing off different topics. It ended with Simon giving you the friendly (read: rough) advice to not let your boyfriend cost you your job.

That’s not how he saw his day going. Having the most interesting conversation he’d had in a while with the woman who annoyed the piss out of him for the better part of his leave.

You were no longer annoying, you’d been upgraded to interesting, and that was the second thing Simon thought about you.

After your talk in the alley, Simon was pleasantly surprised to find that you’d taken his advice and stepped your skills up. It turned out, you were distracted by your boyfriend, but Simon had come to see why. He was obsessed with knowing where you were, and if you were thinking of him, and wondering if he should drop by. 

Simon felt more guilt for being so impatient, and he decided no matter what, he would pick your line. That was the only reason too. It certainly wasn’t because he couldn’t stop thinking about you after your last conversation. 

Sometimes you would take your breaks with him now, exhibiting that same forward nature from the alley, but it no longer annoyed him. He’d tease you about whether or not that break was mandatory, but he looked forward to it all the same.

You talked about anything and everything, from where you were from, to Simon having to explain the delicate ins and outs of football to you. (He was pretty sure you were pushing him to have a heart attack by pretending you forgot a different detail every time you talked).

It was an unstated, but mutually understood, thing that your time together fulfilled something missing for both of you. For him it was cutting into his habit of cutting off socialization until he was back on base or a mission, and for you, it was a break from your relationship.

He liked to think that you looked forward to your talks as much as he did, if your expression every time you saw him was an indicator. 

Unlike him, you were an open book, so you did most of the talking. Simon soaked up everything you told him, filing it away. You were funny, and fascinating.

On his end, he was careful about some of what he shared, and nervous about other things. He had more dark or restricted anecdotes than humourous or endearing ones, and he didn’t want to bring you down. After all, you had more than enough of that to deal with.

The boyfriend. He was a nightmare of obsession and insecurity. It was perhaps your fourth break-hangout that Simon saw it completely for himself. He’d all but dragged you out of your seat, which made Simon rise from his so quickly, it almost toppled over behind him. He wasn’t unaware of his size, nor was he afraid to use it on the shorter man, but you assured him it was fine until he sat down.

Your boyfriend was panicking, wondering why you were keeping someone like him company. He wanted to know what it meant for the two of you, and Simon hated seeing you in an endless loop of begging the pathetic prick to believe you loved him. All of your humor and your cute little habits disappeared as he forced you to become a helicopter girlfriend, concerned only with his fears.

Simon decided then he would sway you away from him. He didn’t deserve you, and Simon may not have known you long, but he couldn’t stand to see you withering under him and his emotional blackmail. No one ever accused Simon of being sane.

You would be his, and that was the third thing Simon thought about you.

If he said so himself, he was slick about it. He’d forgotten about the amount of energy it took to pursue a relationship with someone, and why he limited his romantic interactions to hookups with women he found interesting.

You weren’t just interesting, he was fully infatuated with you by the time he started to actively move towards getting you away from that neurotic dumpster. You were worth the effort.

It started with seeing you outside of the cafe in a way that seemed natural. He thought about it for a while, before he settled on inviting you to a football game. He couldn’t believe he’d worried that you’d say no, your ‘yes’ came out before he was even done asking.

You were impressed with his timing, confessing that the night before, your boyfriend had thoroughly embarrassed you at a party, and you needed a fun day.

Simon had smiled tightly all through your hurried explanation that everything was fine, and that he had apologized once you got home with him.

The day of the game, you were absolutely adorable when he picked you up. Giddily introducing him to your roommate. She eyed him with approval, and even congratulated you for trading up.

Before you could correct her, he slipped in his answer. “That remains to be seen. Depends on if she embarrasses me at the game.”

You snorted, launching into that now familiar peal of giggles. “I promise I won’t. Now, which of these soccer teams is yours again? The Manfordshire Mermaids?”

“You wanna ride there on the roof?”

The trip was a better investment than he thought. You were enthralled with what was going on, the hype of the crowd, the skill of the players, and just being there in person. However, you had to rely on him to translate this new world to you, and that left you literally clinging to him in interest. Simon was your whole world in that stadium, and he locked that feeling down tightly for motivation.

Step one had gone off without a hitch, and now it was on to step two. 

Outings with you became a series. Simon encouraged as many as possible in order to trigger the response he wanted.

He knew it wouldn’t be long until your boyfriend started getting antsy, and insecure again. You were going out twice as much as you had before you started hanging out with Simon outside of the cafe.

To push the matter, Simon told you his work schedule was getting hectic. It was a half truth, the training period before the announcement of a deployment had commenced, and Simon planned on having a girlfriend to come home to this time. Namely you.

He used the excuse to create later meetups. Dinners, movies, wandering the street and stumbling into things to do. All the while getting you hooked on his touch. Simon wasn’t a touchy-feely person by nature, and this was something everyone who knew him picked up on quickly. You picked up on it too, but he wanted to touch you. He didn’t though, at least not often. 

Starting off with little touches that could be confused as an accident, he increased the pressure but kept the frequency low so you became addicted to his rare touches. He wanted you to feel special that someone like him indulged you in that way, so that you’d seek out more, even though HE was the one who felt blessed every time he felt your skin on his.

When you were together, he made sure things were about you. He didn’t imagine your boyfriend left much room for that with his paranoia, but he wanted to show you what you were in for once you were together. 

One night, Simon kept you out later than usual. He’d stayed away from you for two weeks, which wasn’t hard, work was starting to pick up. He could’ve carved out a day or two though, but he wanted to make you crave his time like he did yours. 

It worked. He scheduled a late dinner at an upscale restaurant, letting you fill him in on all that he missed. Namely, you missed being with him. You weren’t the type to keep your feelings to yourself, and you’d inevitably vented to your boyfriend about missing your friend. He didn’t like that label at all, but he liked what would come from your actions.

Periodically throughout the dinner, your phone rang, increasing in frequency as the night wore on. 

You had to excuse yourself multiple times, and Simon pretended to be annoyed. In reality, he anticipated that. Each time the phone rang, you cringed and looked at him apologetically. 

On what had to be the tenth time, Simon said. “Go on then, run off to pamper the pathetic bastard. Powder his arse too this time.”

Your face screwed up in objection to his barbed words. “He’s just worried…”

He shrugged. “Don’t owe me an explanation lovie. S’just a mystery why you’re in such a rush to be a nursemaid.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up from the table. “I’m in a rush to be a good girlfriend thank you. Stop being an ass, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“S’go,” he downed the last of his bourbon before he pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll pay the tab and take you home.”

“What? We’re supposed to have dessert, and then maybe a movie.” 

Simon watched your distressed body language and expression with mild amusement, and he was proud of being able to hide it, even though he’d forgone his mask that night. “You’ve gotta tuck in your kid. S’not on me you won’t date a man.”

You pouted and sat back down. “If I put my phone away, you put your wallet away. You promised me dessert.”

He smirked, refusing to hide it now. This was the first time, since he’d met you, that you’d ignored your boyfriend, and it said a lot.

You did it once, so Simon was able to turn it into a habit. Your boyfriend looked increasingly unhinged as Simon made sure you starved him of your attention.

The ugly voicemails and text messages began soon after. He didn’t like that at all, and he had to remind himself the time to deal with your boyfriend would come, but he did appreciate that you were becoming less tolerant of him. 

Every time you returned to Simon after having to soothe your boyfriend’s ego, and stop his tantrums, Simon made your life easier. He worshiped you in subtle ways, reminding you of what a man was, compared to a child.

There was guilt on your part, but it felt so good to be taken care of for once. To not have to worry about Simon bursting into a fit of insecurity that made you completely responsible for his feelings, and left little to no room for anything else. 

When he touched you, it lit your nerve endings on fire. You knew that the touches were bordering on inappropriate, since you were still taken, but you also knew that your brain went numb with good vibrations with even just a brush of his fingertips.

Simon still kept it light, almost questionable as to whether it even happened, and you finally began to seek it out. Wearing backless tops so that his fingertips would brush your bare skin, sitting next to him in diner booths so a thick thigh was always brushing your own, going for things in high places so he’d steady you by your waist.

He never seemed to miss a beat on when and where to touch you, but it wasn’t enough.

The breaking point came when he invited you to a dinner Price was holding as a goodbye to civilian life until next leave. The verbal invitation was the most valuable thing to you in a while. Not only because you were increasingly becoming addicted to him, but because for someone like Simon to invite you into that part of his life, it meant that he was in deep with you too.

All of Simon’s friends were funny, inviting, and very taken by you. They were so polite to you, complimenting you, and telling you as much as they could about their work, trying to impress you.

You were having fun trying to keep up, but you got the impression that Simon inviting a woman he was seeing to meet them was a new thing, and they didn’t know the protocol.

You were surprised to find he went by Ghost in his field, and they were unused to hearing Simon. You shared how the two of you met, and how polite he wasn’t in your first conversation, and they weren’t surprised.

You were enjoying your time with them, the conversation never stopped, and you would venture to say Simon looked fond at times. Though, as each man became more flirtatious, his expression would change. It became an unspoken game between you and his team to try and make him speak up about it. He didn’t take the bait.

Then came the topic of your boyfriend.

“Come now love, you’re a smart girl. Why do you wanna waste your time with that bellend?” - Price

“I don’t ken what the situation here is, but if Ghost and the other one don’t appreciate you, I promise I will.” Soap

“I had a girl once, who used to follow me in her friend’s car, sit outside my apartment, and call me from different phones to test me. You’re fit as hell love, dump him.” - Gaz

 It was a little embarrassing, and you were slightly annoyed that Simon had told them, but your mind kept shortening it to ‘he talked about me to his team.’ 

During dinner, you excused yourself to the bathroom. While you were washing your hands, Simon slipped into the room, making you jump.

Your eyes met in the mirror, where Simon just glared.

“Have fun with the boys, bird?”

“Have fun broadcasting my business?” You raised an eyebrow, but your tone held no anger to it.

Simon chuckled, locking the door. “S’not my business is it?”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head slowly.

He trapped you between the sink and himself, hands locking onto the counter on either side of you. 

“Let’s fix that.” His lips pressed to the pulse point on the side of your neck, speaking his command against it. “Get rid of him lovie, and come home where you belong.”

You tried to do just that, but for the first time that you could recall, your boyfriend wasn’t taking your calls.

Simon watched you while he packed, tucked beneath his sheets where you belonged, bare. It’d been a week since you took that next step in his captain’s guest bathroom, and you’d been trying to inform your ex he was now in fact, your ex.

You gingerly rolled over to face him, mindful of all the reminders that he loved you he left your body. “Si, he’s still not picking up. I don’t want to do it over the phone, but…”

“Don’t get worked up. Maybe he got the message already...”

Kyle:

He’d re-visited Chicago on his downtime, and met you in a club. Unknown to him at the time, your boyfriend had stood you up for the third time that month, and you decided not to waste the night. It’d made you so free and enthralling to watch, he couldn’t look away.

Gaz spent the entire night with you, glad he’d ignored the jet lag, even when you took him to all the best after-hours spots.

The only problem was your boyfriend, Keith, who Gaz personally believed formed in the bottom of a toilet, and sought life elsewhere. His team thought he was delusional, and/or giving you too much thought.

“You hitting the States again then? Don’t get in the kind of trouble that you can’t get out of because you’re jealous.” - Price

“Garrick! Get your fuckin’ head off your cock, and on the exercise, before I shove my boot down your throat!” - Ghost (after he fumbled a training exercise twice)

Except for Soap, Soap backed his delusions %1,000. “She let you charge your phone when hers needed it more? That’s wedding bells lad, and I wanna be best man.” 

Then there was the relentless teasing every time he spent his leave with you, but Gaz didn’t care. He couldn’t bother being embarrassed when you were waiting for him. Your grin was for him, your excited laughter was for him, and your hug was for him. The one he always held longer than friends do, his heart racing when you relaxed in his hold. Smirking when he felt your nose brush over chest quickly. You were sheepish when he grinned down at you, realizing what you were doing.

You’d gotten him cologne on his first (date) daytime hangout with you. You’d been strolling through the mall, Gaz trying to make you forget about the ugly scene he’d walked into between you and your boyfriend when he arrived at your place.

You’d been so sad, and it didn’t suit you at all. He just wanted to take you out of that environment, and let your real-self blossom again.

His hand brushed with yours, pinkies locking and unlocking so he could feel his stomach dip again and again.

He was able to slowly bring you back, into a little world of inside jokes and friendly culture clashes. Gaz fully had you back by the time he stopped in front of an expensive looking fragrance shop and said:

“You know what? I need a new aftershave, but I’m clueless about shopping for that stuff.”

“Uh, aftershave?” you’d looked puzzled, peering into the store window. “Do they even sell that here?”

He let out a confused laugh, pointing at the bottles on the glass shelf. “We’re looking at it, so I’d guess yes.”

“You mean cologne?” you gave him your first real smile since you’d gotten there, and Gaz forgave yet another correction in favor of it.

“Get in here, and help me find an aftershave.”

He proposed that you guys find the perfect scent for the other and buy it as a gift. The two of you spent the better part of thirty minutes teasing and sniffing each other. Every time Gaz lifted a part of your arm or wrist to his nose, he let his lips brush across your skin accidentally.

“Kyyylee..” you whined every time, making him stir in the right places at the wrong time. 

Eventually you both settled on something for the other, but Kyle slyly placed himself in the position of paying for both. The thought of you paying never having been a real thing in his mind.

“You’ll get it next time, love.”

He treasured that scent, you’d specifically picked it out for him, and he’d savored the look you gave him when you’d finally found it. Now he was in front of you again.

“Yeah, it’s the one you bought me. Did me a good turn with that. I get compliments like they get paid to give ‘em.”

“Who’s complimenting you?” you asked, your wince revealing it’d probably come out sharper than you meant for it to.

Gaz didn’t mind, he liked you as jealous as he was. 

He chuckled, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Just..other girls with good taste.”

Your pout and sharp head turn went right on display in the mental gallery he had of you. He couldn’t resist teasing you again.

“Are you wearing the one I picked.” he leaned down hovering just over your neck where he knew you could feel the soft puffs of breath on your neck. He heard your breath hitch when he hummed, confirming that you were.

“I am, and don’t worry about who’s complimenting it, since you have sooo many of your own.”

Gaz laughed as you yanked him after you with a huff. If he was delusional, you weren’t helping.

This visit was going how he imagined it, and he intended to end it exactly that way too. Finally getting that bastard out of a picture he should’ve never been a part of. 

When clubbing, Kyle kept you close. You both loved to dance, and every song that came on seemed out to prove that your bodies were built to fit together like a puzzle.

He took an interest in your life, wanting to see what you got up to when he wasn’t there. You’d resisted, thinking it’d bore him. It did not.

 He enjoyed meeting your co-workers, and eating at the cafe you loved a block from your job. You even took him to spend an afternoon with your family. Every time he scored a point with them, you gave him this dreamy expression he was determined to see for the rest of his life.

When he suggested making plans with your friends, so they didn’t feel like you were ignoring them while he was there, you were thrilled at how considerate he was, and he got the pleasure of overhearing you hype him up to your friends while you invited them out to do something.

It was you blocking your girlfriends every time one of them tried to push the flirtation with him too far, that let him know it was time.

He decided he would make his move when the two of you were having a movie night at your place. It wasn’t ideal, because that piece of shit was lingering around the place. Kyle hated that you lived together, but wouldn’t let that interfere. He had work to do.

“Kyyyleee.” you giggled, dragging his name out the way he loved when he ran a finger down your cheek to your neck, complimenting your skin.

“Just admiring your skin routine. You’ve gotta share.”

Or, when he shivered, and you instinctively extended your blanket to him. He took it without question, trying not to think about all of the things you could do under a shared blanket. Although, your boyfriend walking in and out of the room, pretending he had things to get out of the kitchen, made the thought more enticing.

You’d invited him to watch in earnest, and he’d just cut you down in a way that made Kyle quickly remind him he was in your apartment, because he’d lost his job, and had nowhere else to go. That you’d sweetly taken him in, and that he should remember that.

He enjoyed kicking him down while raising you up.

Your boyfriend finally just sat at the kitchen table in the dark, fuming. The living room was visible to him from there, but Kyle was glad to have him as an audience to him reminding you of your worth.

You two exchanged snacks and commentary, easily ignoring the unwanted third party.

“No offense love, but beer here is straight piss.”

You laughed, stealing one of the cookies left on his plate. “Beer tastes like that in general.”

“How would you know? You’ve never been anywhere.” your boyfriend snapped at you nastily, from where he’d been glaring at the two of you for an hour. “And why don't you go back to jolly old England if you hate it so much?”

Gaz lazily rolled his head in his direction, body language shouting how much he didn’t respect him. “Mate, you’re being a right prick right now. It’s not like you bought the beer, or anything else you’ve been shoving in that hole.”

Your boyfriend leapt to his feet, fast enough to knock over the chair. “Come over here and repeat that teacup.”

“Blud, that’s not what you want.”

“Kyle don’t, he’s just drunk and embarrassed. Ignore him when he’s like this.” you quickly passed a hand over the back of his, but he just gave you a soft smile instead. 

“That’s his problem, he embarrassed himself. Why don’t you go in the back and find something to do.” He was so effortlessly dismissive, that your boyfriend mistook this for being unprepared to fight.

Kyle’s one rule for his plan was that he wouldn’t physically handle your boyfriend unless he got physical with you. He’d planned to show you how you should be loved, and let a smart girl like you do the rest. That went out the window.

He kept it clean, the other man was stocky, but didn’t stand a chance against his training. If you hadn’t been there, he might’ve taken it further, grinding his hatred of him into harsher blows. Instead, he gave him quick, almost surgically effective, blows to put him down. He was too intoxicated and unskilled to retaliate. 

“See, he just needed a nap.” Gaz tried to lighten the mood.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered. “I don’t know why he’s always like this now. He didn’t use to be. I just want this to stop.”

Kyle shushed you, crossing the room to pull you into his arms. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’ve been dealing with this for too long.”

“I’m so tired.” you admitted, clutching his soft shirt, and inhaling his scent (your scent, that you gave him) that made your eyes roll back in your head. He was so solid, warm, and a darker word popped into your mind, ‘mine.’

“You’ve been so good to everyone, too good. Let me take care of you.” he whispered, hands roaming from your lower back to cup your ass.

He heard the hybrid of a whimper-moan, and it had him at attention before you were done.

“I’d be just like him…” you trailed off weakly.

“That’s not possible.” He lowered his lips to yours, giving you the first kiss from him that couldn’t possibly be mistaken as platonic. You kissed back without any hesitation, not even willing to pull away when he started to lead you to the back. To your room.

Hate him as he did, Gaz noted somewhere in his mind how dark the scenario was. The location, and situation, in which he was about to fulfill the second-to-last step of his plan was kind of fucked.

He cupped your jaw in both hands,“Babe…we can go back to my room at the hotel.”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to erase any trace of him here, starting in your room. He wanted you everywhere he could have you in the apartment, and he wanted him to come to just enough to hear it.

“Makes no sense. Too far. Here.” you murmured, pupils blown wide. 

Gaz didn’t need to be told twice. You were barely able to string a sentence together, and it was top three one of the hottest things he’d ever heard.

“Yes ma'am.” 

Kyle didn’t doubt you’d complete the final step in the morning, and officially dump the forgotten man on the floor.

Johnny:

You and Johnny met through social media. He thought you were gorgeous and, being John “Soap” MacTavish, couldn’t leave your profile without letting you know. Though he threw in some playful critique.

You responded with a thanks, and a challenge for him to do the picture better. It resulted in a months-long photo battle that quickly became a real friendship.

Late phone calls, video calls, and constant strings of texting built a whole world between the two of you. 

You were the highlight of his day sometimes, especially when he’d been gone awhile. You helped him reconnect with the world after shutting it out to defend it.

The only problem was your boyfriend. Johnny prided himself on being able to get along with all kinds of people. It was just in his nature. Hate was so rarely felt by him, that he always had trouble identifying it when he felt it. 

He felt hate for your boyfriend, and it didn’t take him long to figure that out. He thought he didn’t deserve you. He was always talking to you reckless, like he didn’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in his life. Johnny wouldn’t talk to you like that, he wouldn’t have time to even consider it for all the worshiping of you he’d be doing. 

He’d cheated, only to make you feel like that was on you, and you took him back. 

When Johnny heard your pained sobs for the first time, he’d been halfway through texting Simon to ask for help with a dark favor before he was able to talk himself down.

It was then Johnny realized how much you’d come to mean to him, and that only made him hate your boyfriend more.

Your conversations ranged from anything to everything, but they always ended with you venting, and Johnny comforting. He didn’t mind it, in fact, most times he initiated it.

He realized, he must mean a good deal to you too, because you got all your comfort from him. Johnny’s thoughts mattered to you, and you sought his advice all the time. He hated what for, but he loved that you did.

“He didn’t even like the dress Johnny. I told him you thought of it, and he accused me of wanting to wear it for you.” your screen shook violently as you stomped into your bedroom, sending said garment sailing through the air.

“M’sorry to hear that. I meant what I said when you showed it to me in the shop. Any guy that doesn’t lose it to you in that dress deserves to be committed.”

You sniffed, choking out a humorless chuckle. “I’m glad you liked it at least.”

“Oh, you don’t ken how much sweetheart. In fact, put it on for me again.”

Six months into the friendship, he convinced you to come visit him in Scotland. You’d been having more trouble with your boyfriend than usual, living with him didn’t exactly give you a lot of places to take a breather.

Once Johnny confirmed he hadn’t hurt you physically, he’d switched to coaxing you into coming to see him for a couple of weeks.

“C’mon bonnie, I’ve been stateside more times than I can count. You haven’t been here once.” He watched you do your bedtime routine, as the sun came up in the windows behind him.

He loved how despite being countries away, the moment felt as intimate as if you were with him. In his home, getting ready to come to bed with him. Except if you were, he’d tell you not to bother brushing your hair. You’d just have to do it again later.

You laughed as you ran a comb through your hair. “It’s not like you came here for me Johnny. We didn’t even know each other the last time you were here.”

“So…you’ll return the favor later. Be my pretty tour guide.”

You wound up in Scotland barely a week later. A suitcase full of clothes haphazardly thrown into it.

“I don’t even know what I packed, it's a mess!” 

Cue Johnny, who can’t quit hugging you, and they feel less and less platonic. “Don’t worry ‘bout it bon. I’ll find somewhere for it all to go.”

Somewhere turns out to be designated drawers and shelves, that he’d cleared in advance, for your clothes and bath products. Johnny putting them away himself like the simp for you he is. All the while distracting you from stating how you wouldn’t be there long, and you don’t need all that space. 

“We’ll see.”

Johnny had been coaxing less and less innocent behaviors out of you all week, and just worshiping you when he wasn’t. You were a worked up hybrid of desperation, and restored self-confidence. It was addictive, and you started to lean into Johnny’s touches and kisses. You pretended you didn’t hear his murmured dirty statements so he’d have to try again and again.

It came to a head when you finally accepted a video call from your pathetic boyfriend. 

You were in Johnny’s living room, wearing his favorite football jersey, with him behind you, absolutely refusing to make himself scarce. You didn’t want to take the call anyway, but Johnny convinced you it’d be good for closure.

Your boyfriend started going off, yelling about how you didn’t respect him or your relationship, and demanding that ‘you bring your ass home’.

“The thing of it is lad, there’s not really anything about this relationship to respect.” Johnny slipped around to your side, tilting your head up to press his lips to yours. 

You hummed in surprise, but all of his gentle touches and sweet kisses over the week had you pliant. You immediately responded, squeezing his arm when he slipped his tongue into your mouth as a tease.

He pulled away, looking way too smug, and looking all the more impossibly-handsome for it. “Say bye to your ex-boyfriend then bon. The rest of this isn’t for him.”

You gurgled something like goodbye as you slammed the lid on your laptop, attention still fully on Johnny.

John Price:

Price thought your fiance should crawl in a fire and stay there. Yeah. He wasn’t ashamed.

The man was garbage, and hardly worth you giving him a glance, let alone this much sacrifice. You’d moved countries for him, happy to make your home with him because of his job. He treated it as though that should’ve been a given.

That’s how Price had gotten to know you. You lived in the apartment across the hall from him, and the first moment you smiled at him, John was a goner.

You introduced yourself with a smile, your pretty little hand extended out towards him. He’d stood there, wishing he hadn’t worn his ratty sweatshirt with his old football team logo in fading letters. You looked gorgeous, hair framing your face, slightly out of breath from lugging in your things.

He’d stumbled in his mind until he finally remembered proper social protocol. “Price…Captain John.” He cleared his throat. “Captain John Price.”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’, you were visibly intrigued.“Captain? You’re in the military.”

“Yes.” 

“Well…thank you for your service.” 

Normally, John didn’t react to that line as expected. He’d heard it enough times to wish he had a pound for every time, but that was about it. He didn’t do his job for thanks, and sometimes felt they shouldn’t be for him anyways.

Coming from you however, it was different. He had the reaction he knew most people wanted. He knew from the heat in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, they were red.

Your fiancé, who’d appeared in the doorway behind you, stole his chance to answer.

“Yeah, thanks or whatever. (Y/N), come in here and figure out where you want your hair crap to go. I’m just going to toss it anywhere in a moment.”

“Oh, you could’ve just put it under the sink.” 

“You should be getting ready anyways, we have a dinner engagement.” He adjusted his shirt cuffs, eyeing John like he was picturing ways he could kill him.

John wanted to see him try just one.

“Bye John,” you gave a wave, a soft smile on your lips. “I’ll see you.”

You disappeared inside, leaving the two men in a stare down. There was a silent conversation at play, what your fiancé wanted to say was stated without a word. How much John cared about that was conveyed in the same manner.

Your fiancé broke first, slamming the door behind him. 

“We’ll see if I’ll stay away.” He muttered, going into his own place.

Over that first month, you two got to know each other well. Your fiance was often at work, and you turned to John with your questions as you tried to settle into your new home. You had no one else there, and even though John had planned to decompress in complete isolation, he couldn’t do that to you. Didn’t have a part of his being that wanted to. 

However, as John got to know you, he got to know your fiance too. Enough to know if he was ever going to murder someone outside of work, it’d be him.

It started with small things like what takeout you should go for, or which grocery store did he use? It seemed your fiance was useless.

One day, you needed help putting together your beauty table. You’d come to John, clearly embarrassed, and something told him you’d debated on asking him for a while. Your fiance refused, because you hadn’t paid attention when you were checking out, and didn’t select the construction help option.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me love. You mean to tell me that he never made a mistake?” John was already coming out of his apartment, ready to help.

“It’s stupid, but I don’t feel like arguing with him over it. We’re in an ok place right now.” you laughed awkwardly, leading him inside.

“Ok probably isn’t a place you want to be when you’re headed for the church.” it came out of his mouth before he could think about how it wasn’t his place.

He was so used to being blunt, and dealing out cold, hard facts or opinions. It always took him a minute to readjust to what was appropriate, but by then he was back on duty.

You looked stunned, clearly not expecting that from him. Your arms crossed defensively, giving him a side glance while you mulled over responding. 

He meant what he said, but he never would’ve delivered it to you that way, or at all, if he had thought two seconds more.

“‘M sorry. It’s really not my place is it?” he gestured to the back of the apartment. “Where do you need me?”

There were many more opportunities to spend time with you, and with them, opportunities to point out the toxicity he was seeing. It wasn’t in John’s nature to ignore obvious problems, he got paid to do the opposite. He had to resign himself every time so he didn’t upset you.

With every time he gave you directions, or answered a local cultural difference that confused you, you two lingered in each other’s presence a little longer. He wasn’t going to spoil that. 

Your requests started to leave the territory of furniture building and directions, and started to cross more into trying a new recipe, and how you could do better at fitting into your new home. Your conversations started to get deeper, more information about each other being shared.

There were times where you dropped off food, having made too much, or your fiance didn’t want what you cooked. John loved your cooking as it was, he normally lived off whatever he could grab and nuke, but he threw in extra enthusiasm for spite and your pretty smile. 

Sometimes John found reasons to come over to your place. 

“Share a cake love? Don’t get excited, I picked it up at the shops.” “Just bringing back your bowl.” “I can take a look at that window if maintenance is still laying about.”

And without fail, you made him stay every time. You got lonely, and you still knew very few people in the area outside of him. Your fiance didn’t seem to care, he felt he’d set you up with plenty of friends in his circle. John called them posh knobheads, and you couldn’t agree more. You had nothing in common with them, and you always wound up back with John to vent.

He found it easier to talk to you than he had anybody else, and from the never ending conversation between you two, he guessed you felt the same. The topic of the nature of your relationship was verboten, but that was fine by him. By that point, he was more interested in making you forget you even had a fiance. He really hadn’t even made an effort to do it, it just tilted that way, and he leaned into it.

You weren’t exactly stopping his flirtatious comments, in fact, you seemed to light up in ways he hadn’t seen until then.

Then came the outings. As your fiance got more negligent, you got bolder. It started with you taking a chance to invite John to a movie when you two bumped into each other in the mailroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to the cinema, and he couldn’t say what was playing if someone held a gun to his head, but ‘don’t see why not’ fell out of his mouth with no resistance.

Then it was shopping together, or you dragging him to a museum and him bullshitting his art knowledge to make you laugh. He didn’t normally spend his time off being this active socially. He decompressed, and prepared for the next assignment. Maybe he’d meet a woman at a pub and bang out some release before getting back into formation.

He’d wondered if he would regret doing things differently on his next deployment, but that stopped the first time someone mistook the two of you for a couple. That alone would’ve been enough for him to keep his delusions (that he definitely did not have) going, but it was the fact that you didn’t correct them. It happened again, and if he thought he imagined things, he hadn’t. You never corrected the person, just gave a coy smile and accepted the compliment.

Well if you didn’t, he certainly wasn’t going to.

The final time that John could say he only found you attractive, instead of wanting you completely, you’d come to him to ask him if he could drive you to a little farmer’s market outside of the city. Things hadn’t been going well with you and your fiance.

You didn’t have to tell John, he could attest to that himself. He’d heard your arguments in his place, and between the noise level, and trying to make sure it didn't go to a place where you weren’t safe, he wasn’t getting much sleep.

Your plan was to cook your fiance a favorite meal from his childhood, using nothing but farm fresh ingredients. You figured that all you needed to get things on track was a quiet night in, focused on reminding each other why you were engaged. John nearly bit through his tongue to keep himself from bringing up the fact that it seemed the workload on maintaining the relationship fell solely on your shoulders.

Instead, he shoved his bucket hat on his head, and lied about needing to head out that way anyways.

The car ride started out quiet on his part, with you filling in the conversation. Price may have flexed his fingertips in jealousy more times than he could count, but you were so goddamn beautiful when you were excited. It almost hurt to look at you head on, so he gave you side glances to show he was listening.

At the market, your excitement didn’t die down. In fact, it turned into infectious playfulness. You two teased each other, engaged in playful scams to get more samples, and dared each other to come up with crazier and crazier stories about yourselves for the owner of each stall you visited.

Price would die twice before he admitted that he imagined you were on a date a couple times during the day. You never brought your fiance up, and he had to remind you to check your grocery list more than once.

It was late afternoon when you returned to the car, laden with goodies and constructing inside jokes. John was enjoying his time with you so much, he almost forgot he had to tell you he was shipping out the following week. He didn’t know if you’d care so much as to need an announcement in advance, but he felt he should.

 He was worried about you, and he would think of you wherever he was bound to wind up, hoping you’d come to your senses and leave the garbage behind. Of course, he’d miss you…and he certainly wasn’t under any delusion that when you’d taken out the trash, maybe you’d consider him.

“Why’re you so quiet?” you’d squeezed his bicep to get his attention, and he instinctively pushed his arm into your hands, encouraging the touch.

It was quiet for a moment, before you slowly uncurled your fingertips, and placed your hands in your lap. His face flooded with embarrassed warmth. 

Had he gone too far by leaning into the physical?

Price white-knuckle-gripped the steering wheel, swallowing down what he thought was a rejection he had no right to be hurt about, and cleared his throat. “Right. I’m heading out next week, and it won’t be short. Just thought you should know.”

Whatever reaction he expected from you, it wasn’t the one you gave.

“What?” You placed a hand on your chest, and then rolled your eyes. “Well that’s great.”

John gave you a bewildered expression, and it must've shown, because you quickly straightened up and faced forward. 

“I don’t know about great, but it is my job. The one I was quite clear about when we first met.”

“Pull over.” you said so quickly, he wasn’t even sure you’d heard his response.

“What? Why? Are you feeling il-”

“No..just..please.” you gestured to the side of the road.

He obliged, brows drawn tight and carrying all of his questions. “Your boy is going to be home soon, and we still have a bit of a drive ahead of us. What-”

“I wanted to come here because of you.” you breathed out, still facing forward, your posture almost impossibly rigid.

“Me? You’re not making much sense (Y/N).” 

You huffed, and when you turned to him, your expression took his breath away. In that moment he could read every thought you were thinking, and it would’ve bowled him over if he wasn’t sitting.

He felt electricity beneath his skin, the feeling he got any time he was about to do something drastic and dangerous.

It was the little hidden thing in your eyes that he couldn’t place that gave him pause.

“I came here, because I wanted to get away with you for today. I needed to.” you turned your whole body to him. “I don’t give a fuck about fresh ingredients for him, he probably won’t eat it anyways.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “We agreed to start over. And I’m going to try, I really am, but…I still can’t stop feeling need.”

In the looming silence, all John could do was scratch his beard, and try not to look as stupid as he was sure he did. He knew what you were saying, what you were toeing at, but surely you were just venting. You couldn’t-

“S’not right love.” Now it was his turn to look ahead. “Not for him, fuck him. For you. You’re upset and you’re scared, and you're raw.”

“And I need this.” you breathed. “If you’re trying to protect me, stop. If you don’t want me in that way..ok, I’m a big gi-”

“Oooh,” his voice came from deep in his chest, baritone thrumming through the car. “That’s not it. I promise you, that’s.not.it.”

Your fingertips gently pulled his face in your direction. “You’re leaving me…and when you get back things are going to have to be different.”

There it was. John swallowed, hard. 

“I’m being selfish, but..I thought I’d have a little more time with you before..” Your eyes watered. “It’d be one thing if you really were just my friend, but that’s not right is it?”

John wiped at your eyes with his thumb before cupping his cheek in his hand. “No, it’s not.”

“Just one time.”

It was a struggle to say no to you, and that didn’t stop now. He pulled your mouth to his, hands gripping your shoulders in a subconscious effort to prove this was happening. You were in front of him, kissing him back as hard as he was kissing you.

He unbuckled you, and pulled you into his lap, sliding the seat back. 

“I’m gonna miss you.” you were crying now, and neither one of you did anything about the tears.

His hands cupped the back of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair. “Oh, sweet girl. Why didn’t you meet me sooner?”

What transpired after was the most bittersweet moment he could recall. He had heartbreaks and troubled relationships before, but he’d never had to have a breakup with a woman he wasn’t sure he’d been seeing in the first place, but knew that he loved.

He took you twice in his car, before finally, the two of you could no longer ignore the setting sun and had to return home.

John remembered why he preferred to take a girl somewhere quickly, and then spend the rest of his leave in solitude, occasionally seeing a trusted friend. It wasn’t as fulfilling as what he had with you, but it didn’t hurt this deeply either.

He sat in his apartment for hours after he watched you disappear into your own. He didn’t even bother turning on a light when it got too dark, he just sat there, continuing to contemplate how things had gotten to be such a mess. How could he continue to pride himself on being the logical leader he thought he was, when he’d made such a mess of himself so quickly?

How was he supposed to forget you? How was he supposed to forget that he loved you, and that you loved him with another man’s ring on your finger?

The thought of seeing you, carrying your fiance’s child, and looking miserable during what should’ve been one of the happiest times of your life made Price leap from the couch. That familiar electricity raising every hair on his person to a point.

He didn’t know what he was doing, or what he was going to say, but he was moving like he’d planned it for months.

When he stepped into the hall, he paused.

You were sitting on the plush hall couch, eyes puffy, with a death grip on a pyrex dish. Your hair was perfectly styled, and you were wearing a low-cut silken dress that made him want to fall to his knees now that he knew what lay beneath. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, trying to curb your sniffles.

“I was right, he wouldn’t eat it. He got mad and left.”

“You should’ve made him wear it instead.” John’s fist clenched at his side, itching to do what he wanted from the moment he first saw him get short with you.

You shook your head, rising to your feet. “I don’t blame him this time. I didn’t make it for him, anymore than I shopped for it with him in mind, and I told him so.”

You held up the dish, and John saw it was his favorite. His idea of a perfect Sunday roast in one pot. Your meaning was clear.

“I just kept thinking, it shouldn’t be this hard. I mean, it shouldn’t be, right?” you stepped forward.

“No, it shouldn’t be.” He also took a step forward.

“It’s not that way with you.” Another step.

“I would hope not.” he also took another step

You stopped when all that separated the two of you was the dish.

“So this belongs to me then?” he was staring at the dish, but his hands gently grasped your wrists.

You, however, were looking directly at him when you breathed out. “Yes.”

[nathaslosthershit]

Teen Dad (OP81)

(Part 1 of the Blind Item Series) (Part 1 of the Teen Dad OP AU)

Summary: Rumors are flying about a young driver with kids

Seeing the rumor, and various other tweets commenting on the matter, first thing this morning was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Oscar immediately sat up, frightening his fiancée who was asleep next to him a moment before.

“What? What's wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up.

“Fuck this is not good.” He mumbled as he looked through more tweets. He knew he had minutes before his PR team started messaging him on how best to proceed. 

“Osc, you are really scaring me. What is going on?” His fiancée asked again. After 5 years together and two kids, she knew him well enough to know that Oscar isn’t easily woken up. While he usually wakes up early to train or help the kids, on days like today where he has the chance to sleep in, he will usually take it. But the amount of notifications he started getting were enough to get him to check his phone and once he saw the severity of the situation he was awake and alarmed. 

“A blind item about a ‘younger f1 driver with two kids he had as a teen’ just went up. No confirmation on who but it seems they have gotten it down to only a few of us. They don’t know yet but I am sure they will know soon.” 

He was grateful they hadn’t clocked in on him but Oscar was sure with a bit more time to dig people would put two and two together. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he was a teen dad, not anymore at least. When he was even more so an up and coming driver, he kept it hush because he was nervous being 18 with two kids would lead teams to reconsider where his priorities were, his family or his career. That wouldn’t have been crazy of them to do though, as important as racing was to Oscar, he would always pick his family first. Luckily, though, he had a great enough support system so he didn't have to choose. 

Most people in Oscar’s life knew. Any teams apart from Prema, Mclaren, and Alpine were none the wiser but why would they need to know? Not all drivers knew either, some who he had become closer to were let in on the secret, especially Logan, who had been there the entirety of his kids' lives. Annoyingly, at least in Oscar’s opinion, he has been titled ‘the cool uncle’ from day one. 

“What do we do?” his fiancée asked, snapping him out of his spiraling.

“I imagine it is up to my team to figure that one out. I’ll message them now. Get the kids ready and I’ll be done in time to help with breakfast.” He said as he got up.

After a long, pretty impromptu, call, it was decided Oscar would make a statement about it before it was revealed to be him. He wasn’t too happy about not getting to really do it on his own terms but this is the way it worked out, and hey, Oscar would be lying if he said he wasn’t already planning which race he was going to bring his kids to first.

oscarpiastri

liked by mclaren, logansargeant, landonorris, and 518,294 others

oscarpiastri This is of course not how I wanted to do this. I had hoped to have more time before I had to let the peace of privacy go but these things happen when you are in the spotlight. So yes, I am a father of two great kids and I have been since I was 18. I am not ashamed by the fact I was a teen dad, and am certainly not hiding my kids out of anything but love. I hadn’t realized I could truly love anything or anyone more than racing but then these two came into my life and I realized I would give it all up for them. Luckily, with the support of their mother (who is my fiancée) and my family, I didn’t have to give it up. My four person family means more to me than anything and I count my lucky stars each night that I have been blessed with them. I ask that you please respect our privacy. This isn’t the end of you seeing the Piastri twins but I, being the over protective father I am, am not ready to throw two 3 year olds into the chaos of the motorsport world just yet.

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Part 2: A Much Needed Interview out now!

[stevieschrodinger]

Part one

Steve’s alone with fish guy, and it’s the perfect time to make his second attempt. For the first time Steve figures the guy must finally be relaxing, if only a tiny bit. The frozen peas were a massive hit, and maybe that’s helping. Being hungry like that must be really shitty, especially if it’s for a long time, like Steve suspects from the look of fish guy.

Maybe fish guy is starting to realize that this isn’t the labs under Starcourt any more. That Steve and his friends aren’t here to hurt fish guy.

Steve flicks another pea off into the water as he drinks his coffee; fish guy retrieves it in a flash, his eel like black tail easy to spot in the water, quickly coming back for more.

The kids keep calling him a merman - but he doesn't look like any cartoon or kids picture Steve's ever seen. His tail is too flat, for one, definitely more like an eel, plus there's no fins that Steve can see.

Steve offers him a handful of peas, carefully cupping them until fish guy has his hands cupped underneath, ready for them to be tipped in. They don’t touch, and Steve vaguely wonders if the guy will feel cold from the water. The skin of his fingers isn’t pruned like a regular persons would be, which makes sense since he’s a fish guy. Maybe he’ll feel clammy, or rubbery. Or scaly. Steve van very vaguely remember petting a stingray in a low tank at the aquarium once, surrounded by other kids. Might have been a field trip or something, but he can remember how surprised he was by the feeling of the mottled brown skin. Super rough, like sandpaper. Fish guy doesn’t look like he’ll feel like that either, though.

Fish guy eats his handful of peas and then looks back to Steve expectantly; or at least, that’s what he’d call it on a human person. It must be the same sort of thing though, right? The top half, at least, is built the same, right?

Steve’s down to his last handful of frozen peas; he’s already called Robin, she’s going to pick up a bunch of groceries of the green variety on her way over after her shift later. Also a few other bits, like carrots and bell peppers, to see if fish guy will try them.

Steve holds up a single pea between his thumb and pointer finger. Fish guy’s eyes track it from where he floats, a foot away from the ledge. Steve taps his chest, “Steve,” and then he points to fish guy.

Like last night, he comes a little closer, lifting out of the waster a little and then, cautiously points at Steve, he makes a noise that...kind of...sounds like ‘Steve’. His voice is raspy, and the word is kind of mangled, more of a sad ‘Steee,’ but near enough. It looks like he’s really trying, brow furrowed with concentration.

It’s not what Steve wanted, but Steve gives him the pea.

It’s overcast today, same as yesterday, and the day before. Blowy and cold. Steve doesn’t want to stay out here much longer, so he dumps the remaining peas into the water and then gets up and heads inside to wait for Robin.

Steve’s nearly at the door when he hears a splash and then a mournful, “Steeeeeeeeee.” and immediately regrets all of his life choices.

He sighs, and goes back to the pool, “yeah?”

Fish guy tilts his head, frowning, and then lifts his had out of the water, pointer finger and thumb a smidge apart...just like he’s holding an imaginary pea.

Well. Communication is definitely something they will be able to work on then. But Steve flaps the bag, showing the picture of the peas on the front, and the face that it’s very clearly empty, “all gone. Finished,” Steve makes a cutting motion in the air with the side of his hand, to indicate they’re done.

“Inied,” the fish guy manages cautiously.

“Yeah, finished.”

The fish guy watches him for a second, and then dips back down under the water, off too huddle in the bottom corner of the pool.

Steve wonders vaguely if he’s still hungry, but hopefully it won’t be that much longer before Robin gets here.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who really, genuinely likes celery.”

“Me neither, it’s like peppery water.”

“With hair in.”

Fish guy though, very clearly, likes the celery. He didn’t quibble over the cucumber either, that disappeared very quickly. He was cautious about the carrots, but with a little encouragement, and a lot of sniffing, he ate the bottom half of one, not seeming to like it so much at the thicker end.

Steve hands him an entire bell pepper, watches as fish guy takes a bite. He seems to like it, but then pulls a face, scraping desperately at the seeds on his tongue and spitting the whole mess out into the water. Steve can’t help laughing. Fish guy looks affronted. The look of genuine distaste and irritation on his face is very human and also hilariously funny.

“Oh Steve, I think you offended him,” Steve wipes the tears away to see that Robin is right, and fish guy has gone to huddle in the far corner of the pool, only his eyes peeking out. That’s got to suck, having no where to go. No where to hide; no privacy at all.

“This has got to suck for him; he’s stuck in an empty box,” Steve tries to imagine living his entire existence in a completely empty room; he can’t, not really.

“Well what can we even do with him? He seems to be freshwater, so the oceans are out. Even if we let him go in a lake, we don’t know what he understands about people, if he got caught…” she trails off. Steve doesn’t need any help imagining what could happen.

“I don’t know but...we need a plan...and he needs something to do.”

“What like, enrichment for his enclosure?”

It’s the first sunny day for a while. Steve had been getting resentful about it but a bit of warm sunshine is starting to make up for it already.

Steve looks uncertainly down at the bucket of dollar store toys he’s paid for. Doesn’t matter that the kids picked them all out, apparently Steve is still the money in this operation.

Plus gas; they had to travel further since the mall is now a fenced off ruin.

All the kids are on their knees at one end of the pool; all of them holding something. There’s a slinky (he can play with it along the edge), a Rubik’s cube (water proof, and we might be able to figure out if he can see color), a bucket, a plastic dog bowl (it’ll float, you can fill it with peas), a rubber duck, and a ball.

Fish guy, on the other hand, had retreated to the furthest corner he could, curled up into a ball, and stayed there.

Steve’s starting to suspect that the noise of the kids constant chatter and bickering is actually a bit too much for fish guy to handle, from the way he either hides or watches them wearily from the other end of the pool. If they move, he moves.

“Maybe if we spread out, then one of use will be close enough because he won’t have anywhere to go-”

“Absolutely not,” Steve tells Dustin, “that’s cruel, if he’s hiding it’s for a reason. Just let the stuff be and he will deal with it when he’s ready.”

He gets a little bit of whining from them, mostly Will and Dustin, if he’s honest, all the other kids seem to be really understanding.

The ball and the bucket they let go to float around in the water, and the kids soon loose interest and head off to cause trouble elsewhere.

Steve desperately wants to dip his feet in the pool, same as he would on any other day, but since there’s someone living in it, it feels kind of rude. Like he’d be knowingly walking mud into someone's house, or something.

Steve kneels at the same end of the pool the kids were at, he doesn’t want to startle fish guy by appearing right above him. If he comes to Steve or not should be his choice, but Steve has two bunches of celery and a dog food bowl filled to the brim with frozen peas, so he thinks his chances are pretty good right now.

He’s right, fish guy does come over, but his whole face is scrunched up and he misses the celery on the first try; it takes Steve an embarrassingly long amount of time to figure it out, even with the guy eating with his eyes pretty much closed.

It’s the first fully sunny day they’ve had, and the guy had been in a shitty artificially lit lab, and before that, presumably the Upside Down for his whole life.

It’s fucking bright out here.

And even as he takes his sunglasses off, Steve has no idea how to communicate this with fish guy.

Steve has the bowl of peas for leverage, but still. He shows them to fish guy, who, squinting, does come closer. And then Steve hands over the glasses. Fish guy, face all scrunched up, tilts his head, looking at them.

Steve takes them back, put them on, takes the off, and offers them again. Ever so carefully and slowly, fish guy takes the glasses. Steve knows fish guy is at least kind of smart; he’s confident he will figure this out. He’s proved correct pretty fast when fish guy holds them up so he can blink up through the lenses.

And then he...very carefully, almost comically carefully, slides them on.

He grins up at Steve, and Steve floats the dog bowl in the water, giving it a nudge.

Fish guy looks delighted.

Part Three

[corroded-hellfire]

My gorgeous soulmate. The love of my life. I can’t stop thinking about Reader waiting for a ride and accidentally overhearing Eddie talking to the Hellfire guys about some beautiful girl and how he’s afraid to ask her out. Reader assumes it’s someone else and leaves because she’s upset and doesn’t want him to see her. Bonus points for wingman Dusty Bun, but not necessary. Okay love you byeeeeee xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Hello, my darling dearest. I hope you enjoy this and I love you too! 💕

Words: 1.5k

Band practice ran late, but that didn’t matter one bit. Your older brother was always running behind to pick you up, leaving you the lone person sitting outside the school, waiting. Usually, you had a book with you, but you’d finished your last one and hadn’t gotten a chance to check a new one out of the library today. Honestly, the fierce autumn wind may have prevented you from reading anyway; the pages would be obeying Mother Nature, not you. The wind whistles and whips so viciously that you slide off of the brick wall you’re sitting on top of and seat yourself on the cold sidewalk, pressing as close to the wall as you can to avoid the harsh blowing.

Luckily, the gust eases up and you only end up having four leaves stuck to your clothing. As you’re picking them from your gray sweater, you hear the telltale squeak of the main doors of the school opening. Your brow creases in confusion because you didn’t realize anyone else was here this late. The dark evening has your mind floating back to the dozens of slasher movies you’ve seen that started with this very scenario. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, you tuck your legs up against your body as you hug your backpack to your chest.

“Damn Eddie, I’ve never heard you talk this way before.”

The voice is vaguely familiar. Nancy’s brother maybe? Right! He’s in Hellfire with Eddie Munson, who must be the Eddie he’s speaking to. An involuntary smile curls on your lips at the boy you’re head over heels for being just a few feet away. The closer they get, the easier it is for you to hear the thunk of the metalhead’s boots coming down the sidewalk. 

“Ugh, I know,” Eddie says, a hint of a whine in his happy-go-lucky voice. “But she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The butterflies in your stomach sour, churning at hearing Eddie talk this way about some girl. He’s not doing anything wrong, and logically you know that. He doesn’t owe you anything. But irritation bubbles up in you as a defense from the heartbreak you’re desperately trying to run away from. Your fingers dig into your backpack as you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from leaking out.

“Ask her out!” That voice was Jeff’s—from your history class.

Eddie scoffs and you can just picture him shaking his head, his frizzy curls swaying back and forth. The thought of Eddie asking a girl out forces the hot tears to leak down your face, despite how tightly you’ve been keeping them closed. 

“Like she would want to go out with me,” he says. 

Now your heart also breaks for Eddie. Who could be so stupid as to not want to go out with him?

“Aww, I think you’re scared,” another voice goads. Probably the curly-haired boy that’s friends with the Wheeler boy. 

“I’m not scared,” Eddie says. “I’m just…afraid.”

“That’s the same thing!” Wheeler says before you hear a thump and the boy mutters an, “Ow!”

“Shut it, Wheeler. I don’t want to hear shit from you or Henderson on girls. Both of your girls live far away. Huh, kind of convenient, isn’t it?” Eddie asks. “They’re probably as real as the damn hair on top of Higgin’s head.”

“Hey!” Wheeler shouts.

“That’s bullshit!” the boy who must be Henderson shouts at the same time.

“You guys are letting him change the subject,” Jeff says. “When are you going to ask her out?”

Instead of giving an answer, you can hear Eddie grumbling under his breath the closer they get to you. It won’t be long now before they’ll walk past the wall and see you sitting on the ground. Waiting for a ride is easy enough to explain, but the tear tracks running down your face are a different matter. 

Before the group of guys can get any closer, you carefully push yourself onto your knees. Balancing yourself against the wall with one hand, you seek out somewhere you can hide. The corner of the wall is pretty far away, you’d never be able to crawl there fast enough. If you stand up though, you could walk that distance. Realizing crouching down so far is going to kill your back, you push up to your feet and keep your torso and head low as you speedwalk to the corner of the wall. 

Luckily, it’s just a grassy lawn on the other side of the wall, so you throw yourself down on it and catch your breath. Unluckily, you hear the piercing whine of your brother’s car pulling up towards Hawkins High. Fuck. Of course he comes now. 

You peek out from your safe space around the wall and see that Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang are climbing into Eddie’s van. A rush of breath leaves your lungs and you’re sure your adrenaline is about to come crashing down.

Your brother pulls up to the curb and you push yourself off of the grass and quickly slide into the passenger’s seat. 

“Uh, you okay?” your brother asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine,” you huff. “Just go.”

Like the piece of gum you’d stepped in last week, the sharp pains in your heart stay with you much longer than you’d like. The next day, right before last period, you’re at your locker, switching out your books and hoping your eyes don’t look as puffy as they feel.

“Uh, hey.”

The voice makes you jump and drop your biology book. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is; you’d know that voice anywhere. It’s just never been so close to your ear before.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Eddie says as he bends down to pick up your book. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you manage to say as you turn around to face him. “Thank you,” you say as he gives you your science book back. 

Eddie clears his throat and glances over his shoulder before looking back at you—or rather, your shoes. Curious, you follow the line of sight where Eddie had just looked, and you see the curly-haired boy from Hellfire peeking around the corner. Henderson. As soon as he notices you looking, he pops back out of sight. 

“I, uh,” Eddie says as he finds the courage to meet your eye. “Hey.”

“You said that,” you say with a shy smile. “But then I freaked out, so…hi.”

The smile Eddie gives you isn’t his biggest by far, but it still makes your knees go wobbly. 

“You’re in band, right?” Eddie asks, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. 

“I am.”

“Yeah. So, I was wondering if maybe after the game this Friday you might want to grab a bite to eat? With, um, me?”

The world freezes around you, time completely stopping. Your body is locked in place as you stare at Eddie with wide eyes. He just asked me out, you think. Why would he ask me out? He thinks that other girl is beauti—holy shit. I’m the beautiful girl he was talking about? This defies all that you thought you knew in the world. Is this a parallel universe where guys actually like you back? You realize you’ve just been staring at him since you spoke.

“Yeah. T-That sounds nice,” you say.

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes light up and your heart comes to a halt inside your chest.

“Yes,” you say with a small chuckle.

“Wow. Awesome. Okay, wow.” His disbelief shocks you. How in the hell was he afraid to ask you out? You’re just…you. He gives you a wider grin now before tugging up the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Do you have a pen?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah!” You grab a pen from your locker and write down your number on Eddie’s pale skin, right below a colony of inked bats. 

“Great,” Eddie says as he pulls his sleeve back down. “Um, I’ll wait in the gym after the game?”

“Sure. It’ll only take me a few minutes to change and get everything put away.”

“Awesome,” Eddie says again, and seeing him acting this nervous just tickles you pink. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him say “awesome” before and now he’s said it twice within the last minute. “I guess I’ll see you in English tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Oh, Eddie, wait. You’re going to go to the game?” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “I thought you hated basketball.”

“Oh. Well, I do,” he says with a chuckle. “Easier to take you out after the game if I’m there, though. And, uh, you know, Sinclair’s been bugging me to come see him play.”

“Right,” you say. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light red as he gives you a bashful smile. 

“See you later, beautiful,” he says. He doesn’t give you time to even react to his words before he’s heading down the hall. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I make Eddie nervous?”

A jovial giggle slips past your lips as you close your locker. You feel like you owe the Hellfire guys a thank you. 

[coldfanbou]

Saleswoman

Who would've thought Yuna made a good saleswoman...Well, I would have. Anyway, here's the fic for the week; originally, I was thinking of doing a Yuna gangbang fic, but then Eros presented a saleswoman concept I liked in a writer discord and thought would be easier than a gangbang.

Length 2.1K

Yuna X Mreader

Having seen good reviews about the new mattress store, you look up the location. Your mattress has had a depression in it after years of use, and you needed another. The reviews praise the staff for their help in deciding. You set aside time to head out, ensuring you researched the different types of beds beforehand. You arrive at the store just a few minutes after they open; you take in the grand scale of it. You next notice how empty it was, considering the many reviews you thought the store would be full. You don’t even see any workers as you walk through. 

Shaking your head, you move through the store and look at all the different bed models. They had various kinds of technology, all meant to aid sleep, or so they claimed. You tested a few beds laying on them to see how they felt. You had decided beforehand you wanted something that was a little firmer, so you focused on those. As you tested another out, you shut your eyes, imagining what it would be like to sleep on it for years. This one was too firm, having very little give. You open your eyes to see the face of a young woman staring back at you. “Hi! Welcome!” She greets you. You jump, shocked that you hadn’t noticed her walk up to you. “Oh, sorry for scaring you. My name is Yuna, and I’ll be your special aid today.” She says with a wide grin. You look the woman over as she fixes her hair. Yuna didn’t look like someone who worked her. She wore a white sleeveless crop top from a nearby university and matching white shorts. Her red hair stood out against her clothing, attracting attention to her face. 

“I saw you lay on a few models. Did any of them interest you further?” Yuna asks, her hand behind her back as she listens to your response.

“Well, there was the smart bed and one over there.” You say, pointing out a mattress that wasn’t too firm or soft. “The second one is what I’m leaning toward. It’s a lot cheaper.”

“That’s true, sir, but the smart bed is much better for your sleep and other activities.” She states. 

You find her comment odd, “Other activities?” It takes you a moment to connect the dots; when you realize what Yuna meant, she nods.

“Yes, sir. I did mean that.” She states, “Now, if you’d like to test them out, please follow me.”

“But I already did.” You’re confused again, not understanding what she means.

“For the…other activities. You need to follow me.” Yuna says, walking ahead of you. She checks to make sure you are following her, smirking as she sees you are. Yuna stops at a door at the end of the building, picking up a mounted phone. “Hello? Yes, we’d like to test out the Genie smart bed and the Dura hard mattress. Okay, thank you.” Yuna hangs up and spins around on her heel. It’ll be just a moment; they have to set everything up. You see the hunger in her eyes as she looks you up and down. She licks her lips and smiles at you. “I’m sure you’ll like the Dura brand, but the smart bed is the way to go. I’m sure your girlfriend would love it.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” You respond, fixing Yuna’s error. “Why do you recommend it so much?”

“It has a lot of nice features; I can show you soon,” Yuna says just as the phone on the wall rings. She picks it up, talks to the other person on the line, and grows her smile as she places the phone back on the hook. “Everything is ready; please come in.” Yuna opens the door; the room is decorated like any regular bedroom, with only one thing standing out: both beds you had been thinking about were set up in the middle. Yuna grabs your hands, taking you to the cheaper bed, placing her hands on your chest, and pushing you onto it. She lifts her shirt, her perky breasts bouncing slightly. “First one of the day,” Yuna whispers to herself as she places a hand on your crotch. You’re taken aback at her advances but willing to go along with it. You wouldn't, couldn’t deny her. She feels your bulge grow larger, her eyes widening for a moment as her lustful smile appears.

She unbuttons your jeans, pulling them down. Yuna giggles as she sees your bulge being held back by your underwear. She bends over, planting a kiss on your cock through your underwear, “You’re so big,” She says with a giggle. Yuna pulls at the hem of your underwear, feigning shock as your cock pops out. You see her shining teeth as she smiles and grasps your cock. She strokes it gently, watching it fully harden in her hand. Yuna kisses the tip of your cock before tracing her lips with your cock.

You grunt her name; her warm lips surround the head, wrapping around it as her tongue moves across it at an agonizing pace. You’re squirming, wanting her to do more. “Relax, baby. I’ll give you what you want in a minute.” She says, her hand pumping your cock as she moves closer to your ear. “Once your cock is in my pussy, you’ll see who I really am.” Yuna’s low, sultry voice sends shivers down your spine. She runs a finger down your chest until she returns to your cock, her lips pressing against it before separating and taking you in. Her tongue runs along the underside of your cock, slowly moving from side to side as she strokes the base of your cock. 

“How are you so good?” You moan out, throwing your head back as she takes more of you into her mouth. Yuna ignores your question for the moment, too focused on your cock to answer. Your hips buck, sending your cock into the back of her throat, surprising Yuna. 

She pulls back, her saliva dripping onto your cock. “Ah, if you wanted more, you could have just said so.” She pushes herself back onto your cock, making it disappear. You feel Yuna’s throat tighten around the head. You fall back onto the bed, lying down as you explode in Yuna’s mouth, sending waves of cum down her throat. Yuna’s cheeks fill with your semen, puffing up as she pulls away. You sit up slowly, watching her as she lowers her jaw to reveal a mouthful of cum. Yuna swallows it, moaning slightly as she revels in the salty taste. 

Yuna takes a step back, undoing the button on her shorts and pulling them down, shivering as the cold air hits her cleanly shaven pussy. “Move back a little.” You follow her orders, centering yourself on the bed. Yuna crawls over you, her modest breasts swaying. She reaches down, grabs your cock, and runs it between her wet folds. Yuna’s soft moans arouse you further, making you want her more. She Presses the head against her entrance, slowly dropping on it. She takes a deep breath, groaning as she feels your cock stretching her. Yuna places one hand on her lower abdomen, feeling your cock make its way through her until it knocks against her womb. “You’re tearing me apart,” She whimpers. “I need a moment.” Yuna focuses on the sensation caused by your cock. 

You sit under her, desperate for more, her tight cunt feeling too good to just sit there. You grab her hips and begin thrusting, surprising Yuna. “I’m sorry, but I need you.” You moan, thrusting into her quickly. Yuna places her hands on your chest, trying not to collapse on top of you as you split her apart. You catch her expression, her furrowed brows and shut eyes showing slight discomfort as you knock against her womb. Yuna’s expression soon softens as the pleasure overcomes her. 

Yuna’s moans echo in the room; her head tilts back. She looks to the ceiling as she feels her climax approaching. “I’m gonna cum.” She mumbles. You were still a little ways away from your climax. You speed up your thrusts, trying to cum with her. Yuna felt your cock piston in and out of her; she felt like a toy being used and was loving it. A delighted smile appears on her face as she cums on your cock, her walls tightening around you as you continue to ruin her. The young woman’s strength gives out, sending her onto your chest as you near your climax. She mumbles something; it’s inaudible initially, but Yuna repeats herself. “Cum- cum in me,” she says. You moan Yuna’s name, repeating it as you impale her and shoot your cum into her pussy.

You feel Yuna’s walls milking you for your cum as you both start to relax. She stretches out her hand, pointing to the other bed. She gulps softly, saying, “We have to try out the other one.” You nod your head, already tired. Running your hands along her back, Yuna shudders as she feels your hands come to a stop on her ass. You sit up, struggling slightly as you move over to the other bed with Yuna still having your cock inside her. She grabs a remote and holds down one of the buttons, causing the back to raise and letting you be in more of a seated position. You found it convenient. Yuna gives you a dreamy smile as she tosses the remote and begins moving. 

You’re seated position puts you much closer to Yuna’s breasts. You notice now her small brown nipples; they move softly as Yuna bounces on your cock. You lean in, dragging your tongue over one slowly, flicking it with your tongue at the end. She gasps, and her body shivers at your tongue's warmth. 

“W- What do you think?” Yuna mumbles as she rides you like her life depended on it, her walls squeezing you as you hit her womb. You can tell Yuna is trying to speak more, but the pleasure she’s receiving is making it difficult. Moans flow out from her as her walls tighten around you again. Yuna could give you no warning as she came. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she reached her second orgasm; her voice was becoming hoarse from her moans.

You get Yuna off you, laying her beside you. The moment you do, she turns to you, “You didn’t cum.” She says softly. “I want to feel your cum.” Yuna’s hand slithers down her body, spreading her lips for you. You stare at her glistening pussy, it makes you hard, and you find yourself unable to resist Yuna’s invitation. She grabs the remote, lowering the bed back to its original position. “There, easier for you.” She says, licking her lips as she imagines you inside her again. “Go on, fuck me.”You align yourself with her cunt and push in quickly, feeling like you’re being sucked in.  Yuna’s moans bounce off the walls, fueling you to start thrusting. You lift her hips off the bed, giving yourself a better position and allowing you to go deeper into Yuna’s cunt. Each thrust creates a bulge that Yuna presses down on, making her walls tighten around you. Her moans grew louder; she was getting more pleasure out of it, too. Neither of you last long, your quick thrust making you both cum again.  You collapse on top of Yuna, feeling parts of the soft mattress. 

You watch her grab the remote, feeling the bed become firmer. “So what do you think? How was the smart bed? Better, right?” Yuna mutters, slowly regaining her composure as time goes by.

“I think you’re right. It is better.”

“I told you.” She replies, a smile on her face.

You and Yuna hammer out the details as you lay beside each other, your cum oozing out of her cunt, and you end up buying the smart bed. You don’t know if Yuna being naked at the end helped her convince you, but you were buying the bed. Yuna felt satisfied with herself. After you had left, she went to the staff room, skipping all the way there while still naked, happy to have made a good piece of commission on the sale. She showed off, annoying the others as they stood there watching cum run down her legs. You write a review for the store, writing about the helpful staff much like the others before you.

[ellastone-olsen]

Fucked my way up to the top - Wanda Maximoff

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

Summary: You just got your first job in your life and suspiciously quickly became an assistant to the director of the company. Where's the catch?

Pairing: ceo!Wanda Maximoff × f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, dom!Wanda, sub!reader, age gap (W34 R21), mommy kink, strap on usage (W), blow job (R), pet names

DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES

Word count: 1.2k

AN: inspired by lana del rey i really love that song

You just graduated from a college you didn't even want to go to. Wrong college, wrong specialty, but as a result, very much the right job. After one day you began to believe in fate and that this entire chain of events in your life was a blessing from above. After all if it weren’t for the strong nature of your parents who sent you to study, you would never have met Wanda.

At some point, you thought that you would never find a job in your specialty until you saw the ideal vacancy: the salary, the location of the office, the schedule, the educational requirements, everything suited you. There definitely had to be a catch somewhere. And it definitely was.

“No, put it in its place, I don’t need these papers and coffee right now. I have a meeting Y/N, why answer me i need coffee? Just think for once with your pretty little head.” That catch was your boss, Wanda Maximoff. That's what you thought at first.

You trotted behind her on the way to the conference room; in general, the very fact that the director of the company took you on as her personal assistant was already a great success. Some worked in one place for years and remained as an office clerk. And then Wanda Maximoff took you to bring her coffee, not the hardest job, especially for the money that you were paid.

When you entered the room, the hall was empty. One characteristic feature of your boss was excessive punctuality, you realized this in your first week of work. You took your place at the head of the table next to her when you felt manicured hands rest on your shoulders, stroking them. That was the second thing about Wanda Maximoff, she loved to touch you, a lot. Sometimes she would tuck a stray strand behind your ear, sometimes she would stroke your thigh; in general, such touches from her were nothing new. If you said you didn't enjoy it, you'd be lying. Wet dreams with her began to visit you in the third week of work.

And now, from her touch, you could feel your core throbbing. To your great regret, at that moment the conference room began to fill with people. As important and powerful as Wanda. To be honest, you didn’t understand that such a small employee like you was even doing here.

The meeting lasted about an hour and during this time you could feel with your whole being how tense your boss was. Everything was definitely not going the way she wanted; one of the men opposite was already starting to scream, unable to prove that he was right. The deal was on the verge of failure. “Okay gentlemen, I think that’s enough for today. We’ll continue tomorrow.” Wanda could not stand it and marked the end of this meeting.

When the hall was empty, the woman sat down in a chair with her legs spread, a sigh escaped her lips and one hand again lay on your thigh, squeezing it. "Fucking bastards." She muttered and your gaze caught the older woman's pants. She wore an expensive formal suit with a bulge imprinted on the trousers. Your eyes widened, your breath caught in your throat as you wondered what her purpose was..."See something you like?" You jumped at the question, scared that you had been caught. One of Wanda's hands strokes your thigh, moving up closer to your already dripping pussy while the other massages her fake cock through the fabric of her pants. You look at her expressionless face and nod in response to the question.

"On your knees". The chair moves back with a creak, giving you space. You stand in front of her to look into her eyes, darkened with lust, for a second and fall to your knees. Hands immediately reach for her trousers, sorting out the belt and pulling them off along with her underwear. A red strap jumps out in front of your face and you start to get nervous about the size. “I don’t think it will fit..”. You are interrupted by a grip in your hair. "Don't worry baby girl I'll make it fit now suck my cock."

She guides your head towards her length and you curl your tongue around the tip as if she can feel it. You raise your eyes and look at her, and then shut your mouth on her dick, feeling tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Her palm cups your cheek and her thumb wipes away drops of moisture, “Oh my sweet girl wants to please her mommy so bad.” She helps you by guiding your head up and down her length, your panties are hopelessly ruined and you squirm, looking for some kind of relief. Wanda lifts her hips so that your nose touches her stomach and holds you like that for a few seconds. When your boss lets you go, your makeup is hopelessly ruined and you gasp for air.

"Such a good sweet girl. Do you want mommy to put her dick inside you? Do you want me to stretch you out and fuck you until you forget your name?" You are still kneeling in front of her and a pathetic whine comes out of your mouth, “Please mommy I really need you to fuck me.” Wanda likes your answer and growls, she pulls you to your feet and then bends you over the large office desk. Your cheek is pressed against the cold surface, the older woman has already hiked up your skirt to your waist and is stroking your throbbing pussy through the fabric of your cotton panties.“My, my, you’re already absolutely wet and I haven’t touched you yet. Do you like sucking mommy’s cock so much? Maybe next time should I fuck this beautiful, capable mouth mmm?" A sharp slap on your ass makes you gasp. "Yes yes please I will like it so much.”

Your underwear falls to your ankles and the tip of her cock teases your throbbing clit and then runs through the folds, collecting your arousal. Without warning, she fills you to the edge and started to pound at a slower pace than you would like. You gasp from the stretch "Mommy it's too big. Feel so full." Her pace increases, her hand finds your swollen clit and rubs it making you cry. "That's my good girl. Taking me so well. Come on baby mommy needs to de-stress after these bastards." Wanda leans over you and bites your neck as she continues to pound into you at a faster pace, your velvet walls starting to clench around her length. "Oh fuck Ms. Maximoff I'm close I gonna cum." Wanda’s cock hits that nice spot inside you so deliciously, pushing you inexorably to the edge. "Come on baby, cum for me. Show mommy how good she fucks you." Her fingers rub your sensitive bud faster and you see stars cumming all over her cock, crying out inaudible curses into the silence of the office. She continues to move, prolonging your orgasm until your breathing evens out.

She pulls out her faux cock and then a pair of strong arms turns you around so you're face to face so she can press her lips to yours in a leisurely kiss. Wanda walks back to sit back in her chair, holding you by the waist, pulling you behind her so that you sit on her lap. “I was not mistaken in choosing you as my assistant.”

[roseyuri]

⋆｡𖦹°‧ PUSHIN’ N PULLIN’ kim minji x reader

౨ৎ warnings: idol!au, 6th member reader, minji and yn argue like it’s their 9-6 job, yn is lost and minji is confused, swearing

from the moment minji and yn crossed paths during training, their connection was more like a collision. there was an instant clash of personalities that made it clear they weren't destined to be friends.

yn just didn’t like minji, there was no specific reason, there was just something about the older girl the worked her up, she was a person who never let people get to her but there was just something about minji that made her want to pull her hair down

minji didn’t like yn for the way she held herself, she was a witch dressed like cher horowitz, she was mean but somehow could manipulate her words into sounding so sweet and caring while she’s practically tearing someone apart.

but even with her sickly personality, she was still the most popular member, it was like everyone was just blinded by her face, including the other girls that they couldn’t see her for what she really is, or at least in minji’s eyes what she really is a-

“bitch,” minji said angrily to the girl who stood in front of mirror adjusting her pink polo shirt with the matching tennis skirt, “you’re such a bitch.”

“how many times do we have to do through this minji,” the younger girl states and she looks at the older through the mirror who scrunches up her face at the girl’s informality, “I know I’m a bitch, that doesn’t insult me.”

minji groaned and threw her head back at the girls words, it was like yn lived to annoy her, “can you just hurry up so I can use the washroom before we leave?”

“just one second,” yn whined before turning to face minji, “how do I look?”

minji gave her a deadpanned expression, “horrible.”

“I guess that means I look good because you have zero taste,” yn smiled at minji, “I would immediately go change if you said I looked good.” and like that she walks out the washroom leaving a raged minji.

as minji finished up in the washroom she headed out, the only thing on her mind being a good comeback for what yn said a couple minutes ago, she turns the corner to see the rest of the girls at the door.

“finally!” yn says as she links her arm with haerin, they were pretty close, something minji could never understand, it was like yn talked haerin’s ear off and haerin just entertained the girls useless thoughts, “you took forever!” minji looks at yn like she said the most diabolical thing in the word, “you were the one who took the longest!”

“was I? I don’t remember that.”

just as minji was about the launch herself at yn danielle cut in, “let’s not argue right now please, our managers are waiting for us in the car.”

minji gave yn a glare before pushing through them to open the door, “let’s go.”

as they made their way to the van, hanni, hyein, and danielle darted ahead, eagerly claiming their favorite seats in the back leaving the last three seats for yn, haerin and minji.

minji took the window seat, yn took the middle and haerin took the other window seat, minji couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the fact that the van had barely driven off and she was already talking about herself.

“so, he said that I was his ideal type on a variety show right? he said that it was because I fit his standards, that’s a compliment right?” yn immediately started rambling to haerin who raised her brows at the information yn just told her.

“it depends on what his standard is.” the cat like girl responds going on her phone to search up the male idols name, “it could be a bad thing…”

“but if I fit his standards and I am me that means that it has to be a compliment,” yn says, “I mean hello?! it’s me.”

this felt like the a hundredth time minji had rolled her eyes today because of any, she will never understand why yn entertains these male idols they never come to her for good intention, as soon as they realize how intelligent yn is they bail.

did she just call yn intelligent?

she did the mistake of telling yn her opinion on yn’s relationships, but it only led to yn saying this.

“you’re just jealous, that I get attention from cute boys.”

her jealous?! that was the most insane thing she’s ever heard come out of the mouth since she met the girl.

she tried to tune out yn’s boys problems and looked at the time, just a couple more minutes until they get to the shoot.

minji watched as yn had her phone stuck in her face as the stylist touched up her pink nike outfit for the shoot, “you’ve had your face in the phone all day, is this boy that you’re so interested that important?”

yn quietly thanked the stylist before walking past minji down the hall to get to the set, minji following closely behind her, “you do know that he’s just gonna end up like every other one right?”

yn stopped in her tracks at minji’s words at turned to face the girl, “can you not be up my ass for one second.” she snapped, walking closer to the older girl until she hit the wall.

“you don’t even know him,” she adds flashing minji a cold glare and stepping back.

“I know what he wants,” minji responds immediately, “and it’s not you, it’s your looks.” she says giving yn and even cooler glare, pushing her self off the wall and closer to yn.

“you’re just-”

“jealous?” minji cuts yn, stepping closer if that was been possible, “why would I be jealous of a boy that knows nothing about you and only wants one thing, are they really right about you not being smart?”

yn stared at minji’s face for a good second, it was like she was getting lost in the girls closeness before gently pushing minji away from her, “fuck off.”

“I’ll fuck off when you stop entertaining those idiotic boys, I already have to deal with all your other flaws.”

“so me liking boys is idiotic?” yn said defensively causing minji to look at the girl confused.

“when did I ever say you liking boys is idiotic?”

yn tried to stutter out a response, before just turning away from minji and walking down the hallway, “just don’t talk to me for the rest of week!”

minji’s confused expression melted into an annoyed one, “that’s the best thing you’ve said all day!” she yells back.

she huffs watching yn walk to the set, as much as she loved to cuss the girl off in her head, she couldn’t help but think about how weird yn acted towards the end of their argument.

it’s probably nothing.