#i can say i love you in four different languages

[cheolism]

OH, AGONY

✰ — teaching assistant & boyfriend!lee jihoon x f!reader ✷ — summary: when you both find out that your boyfriend, lee jihoon, will be the ta for your classic literature class, it is agreed your relationship will take a temporary pause . no public dates, no pda; and, most tragically, no sex. nothing that can give away the truth to your relationship. only, it really is easier said than done. or: four times you and jihoon totally didn't have sex plus one time you did. ✰ — wc is approx. 14.5k ✷ — genre: TA au, secret relationship au, forbidden relationship au, smut ✰ — warnings: spanking, pussy spanking. derogatory language (f receiving), pet names (baby (f receiving), hoonie). rough sex, unprotected sex. masturbation (f&m) and sex toys. penetrative sex. extreme levels of delusion as to what "qualifies" as sex or not; jihoon and reader bully one another. talk pertaining to the greek tragedy oedipus rex (self-blinding is mentioned as it pertains to oedpius but not discussed in detail). ✷ — rating: 18+ ✰ — note: this fic represents two delusional adults. they are both consenting to what is going on. this fic is not an accurate representation of what is and not considered sex. also the word count may be scary, but i promise it is pretty much all smut. this fic is part of @camandemstudios first ever collab, back to school with seventeen. please make sure to give the other works lots of love!

“we have to set up rules,” jihoon announced a week before classes were to start. he closed the zoom tab, which he had preciously been using to talk to the classics professor he was ta-ing for this semester, kicking back from his desk. 

“rules,” you said, peeking over the top of your book. it was hotter than hell outside, the sort of heat that suffocated and made you feel as if you were being wrung like a wet towel. inside, however, you had a blanket tucked around your body and socks pulled up to your calves. 

jihoon wandered over to the thermostat. he frowned, reaching and dialing it down once again. if he was going to pay for air conditioning, he believed, he was going to be cold in the comfort of his own apartment. 

“it’s not fair to other students that you’re dating your ta,” he said. 

“if this is literally you breaking up with me –”

“don’t be dramatic,” jihoon chided, crossing the room to you. he picked up the edge of the blanket, slipping under and pressing his toes against your feet. “i didn’t say that. i just mean that we shouldn’t advertise our relationship to everyone.”

you closed your book, keeping your forefinger inside to mark your place. “just keep it a secret then. can’t be hard.”

“we can’t let anyone know,” he enunciated. “for real. the professor doesn’t even know. if he did, he’d reassign me.”

“then we just don���t say anything.”

“you shouldn’t stay the night.” jihoon laid his arm over the back of the couch, inviting you to cuddle into his side without him verbally giving invitation. you abided, shifting to rest your head on his thick bicep. “and no dates.”

you huffed. “jihoon, i don’t know if it’s really that serious.”

he scoffed back at you. black bangs hid his eyes. “they could accuse me of favoritism, accuse you of academic dishonesty. we need to treat this seriously.”

“maybe i should just request to change to a different section.”

“too much work.”

“oh,” you laughed, reaching over and pinching at his side. jihoon flinched, instinctively slapping at your hand. “and pretending we aren’t dating isn’t.”

“that’s why we need rules.” you kicked out the blanket, pulling it from jihoon; he grumbled, snatching it back. “don’t be a hog. anyways. we need rules so we can stick to a strict routine. that way we don’t lapse in judgment or anything.”

“so no sleepovers,” you recited, “no dates. what else? no walking to class? no kissing?”

jihoon leaned his head back against the couch, exposing the length of his pale neck. you let your eyes linger. “sleepovers, dates. no meeting in public unless in a group setting.” 

you let out a great sigh, pushing the blanket from you. snatching your bookmark, you stuffed it into the novel you had been reading. “so we’re strangers.”

“yes,” jihoon confirmed. “easy enough.”

you gasped, mouth dropping open. “easy!”

jihoon bit at his lip, and you could tell that he was already regretting his choice of words. but he wouldn’t back down – that wasn’t in his nature. “easy,” he said. 

“fine,” you hissed. you left the couch, retrieving your backpack. you brought out your notepad and pen pouch. “no sex, either.”

“what –”

“if it’s so easy,” you retorted sharply, walking back to the couch while ripping out an empty page of your notebook, “then no sex won’t be a problem for you, mr. lee. i mean – it needs to be believable, right? no getting caught.”

jihoon grimaced, moving to a sitting position on the couch. “yeah. believable.”

“we write it down,” you said, taking back your spot next to jihoon. you opened your pen pouch, letting the pens and markers spill out onto the coffee table. “we write it down and shake on it. it’s a contract.”

jihoon hesitated. “this is a little severe, don’t you think?”

you shook your head. “nope. can’t let anyone know, yeah? otherwise i’d be academically dishonest, wouldn’t i?”

jihoon grabbed your paper, creating a bullet point. “i really don’t think this is necessary.”

“but you do,” you shot back. “i mean. you were the one to bring it up all serious-like. no kissing, no sleepovers, no sex. the whole five yards, lee jihoon.”

“but a contract –”

“oh? so you’re wrong?”

jihoon huffed, pressing his lips into a firm line. “fine. no dates, no marks, no pda.”

“and no sex.”

“and no sex.”

W E E K  O N E

your eyes immediately catch onto jihoon as soon as you walk into the classroom, and while you really should’ve guessed that he was going to play dirty – because as hard as he tries to maintain an indifferent air, jihoon is just as weak of a many as any – you didn’t realize he would be playing this dirty. 

he’s wearing black trousers that fit to his thighs and ass, cinched tightly at his waist by a thin leather belt. his white dress shirt is loose around his neck, the first button undone. your eyes, unwillingly, smooth over the silver chain that winks out from underneath his shirt, alongside the harsh lines of the white tank-top he wears underneath the dress shirt and you feel, horribly, a strike of want hitting you. 

jihoon turns to you. “hello,” he says, voice perfectly neutral. his eyes don’t stray from your face despite the fact you’ve worn his favorite jeans, the ones that cling at your own ass and show off flashes of skin underneath rips strategically placed; rips jihoon has made worse over the months of being together, slipping his fingers underneath the loose threads to touch your skin. 

“go ahead and take a seat,” jihoon instructs, gesturing about the room. the desks are all modern despite the discussion taking place in the historic – well – history buildings. the desk shifts underneath you as you try to slide in, bottom of your water bottle clanging against the hard surface, and wheels carting across the marble floor. 

you stretch out your legs, staring at jihoon unabashedly. it isn’t a sin for you, the student, to be attracted to the teaching assistant. and so you look him over, watching as he turns this way and that way, trousers showing off the plush of his ass and shirt showing the wide line of his shoulders. 

you are jerked from your admiration of your boyfriend-turned-teaching assistant by a large man hurrying to the desk next to you. he’s jihoon’s opposite in almost every way: he’s easily a foot taller, and his skin is a gorgeous dark bronze that seems to draw emphasize to the bulge of his muscles. 

the man slides into the desk. it’s comically small for him, his knees hitting the underside of the desk. the desk moves as he situates himself, prompting his backpack to fall over from where he had propped it. 

“shit,” he mumbles, reaching down with one long arm, biceps bulging rather nicely, to righten the backpack. “stay up, please.”

rather endearingly, to top it all off, he has a lisp. 

he glances at you, eyes apologetic beneath his curly bangs. “sorry. not my day today.”

you huff a laugh. “i don’t know if it’s anyone’s day, let alone week.”

“true,” the man says, grinning. his teeth are white, his canines more pronounced than most people’s. “hey. i’m mingyu.”

you introduce yourself. “are you a classics major, then?”

mingyu wrinkles his nose. “no offense to classics, but i’m doing something interesting.”

“yeah?”

“business.”

you let out a loud laugh, startling not only yourself but the people around you. mingyu grins triumphantly, tongue flicking out to run alongside his teeth. you hide your smile behind your hand, trying to quiet your laughter. jihoon, you notice, is frowning at the two of you. 

“so interesting!” you say. “definitely a major filled with the best.”

“the very best,” mingyu agrees. 

the two of you continue chatting, conversation flowing naturally. he’s charming, you think, charisma practically radiating off of him.  you don’t miss how your boyfriend watches the two of you more often than not, not engaging in conversation with any of the entering students who greet him so he could keep an ear open on your conversation. 

jihoon starts class as soon as the electronic clock on the classroom computer switches to three on the dot, the projection cast onto the board. 

“first thing’s first,” he says. he leans a hand against the table set at the front of the room, though it, too, is on wheels and skirts a little as he puts weight against it. “my syllabus, you’ll find, is stricter than professor burns’s. if you come in after the clock hits three, you’re tardy; you’ll contribute to all discussions in this class, and if you don’t you’ll forgo any participation points; if you miss three classes in a row, which translates to nearly a month of absences, your grade will automatically fall to a fail and you will have to take not only this discussion over, but professor’s burns’s lecture as well. 

“if,” jihoon continues to say, voice a rasp, “you find any of this in contradiction with professor burns’s syllabus, you are more than welcome to email the both of us and address it.”

the class is silent as jihoon grabs a piece of white chalk. naturally, despite the gleaming projectors and furniture on wheels in the building, nearly every classroom is a remnant of the late 19th century: chalkboards; coat hooks; door and window frames made of real wood. 

“remember to use proper emailing etiquette when contacting anyone in the college,” jihoon announces. he begins to write on the board, chalk tapping against the black surface as he decorates it with his chicken scratch. “and to address me as mr. lee. there is a pdf uploaded to our discussion course detailing how to address certain faculty members within the college for you to browse and keep.”

jihoon steps back from the blackboard. there he’s written the title of the course, ancient grecian dramas. 

he runs a hand through his black hair, pushing back strands. “we’ll begin properly next week, once professor burns assigns the first drama for reading. i recommend printing out the reading and annotating, practicing close reading. that way when you come to discussion we can go over your notes as a group and analyze the text further.

“now. we’ll begin today by doing a writing exercise. i want you to tell me what you think of when you think of ancient greek dramas. this will also be how i take attendance – so make sure to do it.”

you rifle through your bag, pulling out your notebook. next is your pen pouch, though the surface area of the desk is hardly large enough to fit your notebook. pouch, and water bottle. 

“you can email it,” jihoon clarifies after a moment of silence. “make sure you label it accordingly.”

hurriedly you pull out your laptop, pushing your pen pouch aside and setting it on top of your notebook. you shift in your seat as your laptop boots back up, and you can’t help but glance up at your teacher’s assistant.

jihoon, being a classics major and your boyfriend, has introduced you to ancient greek plays before. it’s not like you’re completely foreign to the subject; he’s dragged you to more than one play in order to get some assignment credit, notebook on his thigh as he jotted down notes in the dark of the theater. 

sometimes he takes to reading to you different passages – especially those that move him or he thinks are particularly ridiculous. he pours over the text religiously, like a priest would the gospel; analyzing every line, drawing meaning from the colors of robes to what isn’t being said at all. he looks at these little black words on white pages, words written thousands of years ago, and is simply transported into another lifetime. 

it’s endearing; it’s special. 

the first time you had noticed him, jihoon had been surrounded by pages of a poem. later you’d learn it was by some jeffrey guy from the medieval period and was about a group traveling for worship. whatever it was, didn’t matter. 

what had mattered was him. 

he was disheveled. the white printed-out pages of the poem were scattered along the table in the university library, the uniform black-and-white pages interrupted by annotations written in colors of the rainbow. the highlighters and pens were scattered themselves, abandoned by post-it notes stuck to every page. 

he had three empty energy drinks in front of him. the hood of his hoodie was pulled up over his hair, the black fabric matching the dark circles under his eyes that told you he had been at this for far too long. 

you had gone and got him a water; brought it back to him. listened to his theories about color, about how he thought it meant something; how this poet had chosen every word so carefully there’s no way that color didn’t mean something. 

you, a distinctly not literary fanatic, had not understood; you still don’t. 

but his eyes always light up and his voice begins to carry this urgency that betrays his adoration for the art, and you just can’t help but let yourself get caught in his orbit. 

so you open up an email and begin to write.

Mr. Lee, 

My boyfriend is a Classics Major, so when I think of Ancient Greek Dramas I think of him. He’s shown me quite a few, and we’ve attended more than a handful plays

you shift in your seat, thinking. as you move, however, your arm knocks against your pen pouch and sends it to the floor. 

the noise as it hits the floor isn’t as thunderous as it would have been if your water bottle had struck it, but it’s still loud enough for you to wince. it breaks the still of the room, your classmates shifting in their seats and throwing glances at you. 

before you could move from your seat, mingyu is. he’s quick to grab your pouch, smiling gently at you as he offers it. his hands are so big they span the length of the pouch, a beautiful golden tan that only seems to boost his natural beauty. 

“think you dropped this,” he says in a harsh whisper. 

you bite back a laugh, teeth digging into your lower lip as you smile. grabbing the pouch from mingyu, you whisper back a quick thanks. 

you glance up towards the front of the room as you settle back into your seat. jihoon is looking right at you, frowning, arms crossed over his chest. his white shirt isn’t fitted, and it struggles against his bulging biceps as he crosses his arms. 

for a moment you just look at him, taking in your boyfriend’s form; how the shirt clings to his arms, trousers to his thighs. 

there’s a dinging noise of an email landing in an inbox, and then jihoon is moving from the front of the room and around the table to his laptop. 

you return to your email. 

Mr. Lee, 

My boyfriend is a Classics Major, so when I think of Ancient Greek Dramas I think of him. He’s shown me quite a few, and we’ve attended more than a handful plays. A lot of them are different than what I’ve expected. Some of them seem like they came right from Ancient Greece; others are more modern. I have noticed Ancient Greek plays seem to be more twisted than what a modern author may come up with. 

Sometimes I don’t understand really what a play is about. It gets all muddled, especially when they don’t change the words for a modern audience. Still, my boyfriend is super sweet and helps me along. 

you hesitate for a moment, and then you sign your name. opening a new tab, you pull up a bookmark and add one last finishing touch beside your name. 

– °˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖°

you are more exhausted than usual. 

it’s as if all of the good vibes and rest you had managed to scrape together over the summer break were eradicated in one day. as soon as you managed to get to jihoon’s apartment you were discarding everything; shoes at the door; backpack next to the couch; bra onto the floor. 

his bed was perhaps the most comforting place you knew besides his arms, and so you slunk towards it. you made quick work of your pants, one knee pressing against the mattress as you shook your other leg, jeans flopping to the floor dramatically. 

you followed suit on jihoon’s bed. 

burrowing into his sheets, you couldn’t help but breathe him in. he was a hot sleeper, and so more likely to sweat during the night. his sheets smell like his sweat, though not the stinky sort he gains from his daily workout. instead, it's the natural musk of him that permeates your nose, deep and distinctly lee jihoon. 

you allow yourself to drift. nothing exists besides jihoon’s bed and you. 

then the door to his apartment is opening and closing, a voice with a slight rasp calling out to you. 

“here!” you call back, voice slightly muffled by the sheets. you press your face against them again, eyes fluttering shut. 

jihoon slowly makes his way across the apartment. he mutters something about your discarded clothes and backpack, but you pay it no mind. jihoon pauses when he enters his room, and you can practically feel his eyes on you; roaming the bare expanse of your back, the supple flesh of your thighs. 

“good day?” you kick out a leg, wiggling your toes. 

he makes a humming noise, and then he’s stepping further into the room. 

“long one,” he says. “forgot how fucking awkward everyone is on the first day.”

you shift, moving your face so you could watch him. jihoon crosses to his dresser, fingers messing with the cuffs of his white dress shirt. you can see the moment he gets the button, the fabric sagging around his wrists. 

oh. 

sitting up on the bed, you watch as he begins to work on his other cuff. he peers out the window, chatting as he does. 

“professor burns is the usual,” jihoon announces. “hasn’t changed in the – what? five years i’ve been here? i swear she rambles like no one’s business. if it wasn’t my job to babysit the students and not her, i’d say something – but fuck, you know?”

once he’s undone the buttons on the cuffs of both of his sleeves, jihoon begins to work on the buttons falling down the middle of the shirt. his fingers are deft and quick as he presses them through their holes. 

you can’t help but think of his fingers on you. how nimble and skillful they are against your skin; how he dances them up and down your flesh as he presses kisses against your skin; how they seem to know just where to go and just what to do against your body, rubbing at your nipples and pinching at the undersides of your tits to get reactions from you. 

because fuck, jihoon’s fingers –

sometimes even watching him write you can’t help but get horny. how his fingers grip his pen, how he spins it around his fingers absentmindedly. how they alleviate pressure on the pen as he writes and stops. watching him write, sometimes you can’t help but think about his fingers at your clip, a harsh presence as they rub down on you once moment and gentle the next, fingers skimming your clit as they massage the gummy area around it. 

watching his clever fingers as they make quick work of the buttons on his shirt, you can’t help but yearn. your eyes see nothing but his fingers; ears hear nothing of his conversation. it’s just you and jihoon’s hands and the way your cunt clenches, pussy leaking into your panties. 

then jihoon’s pulling off his dress shirt, and he’s wearing a tank top underneath. 

you want to scream. 

not to say jihoon doesn’t look good in a tank top. because he does. fuck, he does. you always find yourself admiring jihoon’s shoulders and arms when he’s in a tank top no matter what sort of mood you’re in. 

(one instance in particular you had been full of energy, ranting about a coworker who didn’t know what she was doing and had been kept around for far too long. and then you had looked up at jihoon and let your eyes selfishly roam over the broadness of his back, the curves of his bulging arms as he cut up meat. all sense had abandoned you in that moment, and before you knew it you were grabbing at his shirt and pulling him to you, tongue running along his skin.

not exactly your proudest moment, but.)

maybe the combination of his trousers and tank top shouldn’t be as sexy as they are, you think hysterically. his tank top his tucked into his pants, and, torturously, his fingers reach down to pull the hem free. the hem of his tank top settles around his hips, showing off just a sliver of skin. 

jihoon raises a hand, running his fingers through his black hair as he continues to talk about something-or-other. 

and his white tank top rises up his stomach. 

you can see the hairs that lead from his belly button down, down, down. you can see the pale expanse of skin that you know is soft and smooth to the touch. you can imagine your hands pressing against his skin and sliding underneath his trousers; can imagine the restrictiveness of his trousers as you tuck your hands into his underwear, fingertips skimming alongside the base of his cock. 

you’ve never pretended to innocent when it came to lee jihoon; never pretended your mind didn’t run wild with salacious thoughts. 

and you weren’t going to pretend now, because – 

because in your mind your hands were rubbing at the base of his cock, mouth at his collar and licking along his collarbones. he was moaning in you ear, soft and breathy, and you were moving down onto your knees, your own fingers unbuttoning his trousers. 

jihoon reaches down, fingers swiftly pushing off his socks. “hey, by the way, i sent you an email response to your attendance discussion for today.”

you don’t speak, eyes roaming over the expanse of his back, still covered by fabric, like a starving man before a feast. 

jihoon peeks at you. “it was sweet.”

“yeah?” 

he doesn’t say anything else. jihoon’s eyebrows raise, silently prompting you. 

you let out a loud, horrible groan that tears at your throat. the insides of your thighs are warm as you move across the bed to grab your discarded phone, the wet fabric of your panties catching against your skin, cold and shocking. 

jihoon begins to chatter once more as you swipe on the email notification. he’s quiet in public but you can’t help but treasure how talkative he becomes afterwards; how all the little snide comments he’s kept to himself are let loose. 

you look at the email. 

you furrow your brows. you look over it again. 

I am glad to see at least one of the students in our discussion section will not be a complete novice to Greek theater. I hope after this semester you will be able to engage with your boyfriend in a more informed matter when it comes to his passions. 

However, despite how sweet your email was, I do have to remind you to please stick to proper email etiquette. Your use of – °˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖° is highly unprofessional, and I urge you to not include such things when emailing any staff or faculty or teaching assistants. For this misconduct, you will be deducted a point from your discussion grade for today. Please keep this in mind for the future. 

Well wishes, 

Mr. Lee

your jaw drops open. 

“you fucking deducted me for my emoticon?!” 

“we agreed to be strangers,” jihoon reminds you. he removes his pants. you can’t even find it within yourself to be horny. the warmth of your cunt is overtaken by the red-hot anger that licks through your veins. “and it’s inappropriate to send your ta heart and sparkle emoticons.”

“it’s a fucking – oh my god,” you reach towards the top of the bed, fingers grabbing the corner of his pillow. you tug it to you. “it’s not that serious.”

jihoon steps out of his pants. his thighs are thick and pale, and when he turns towards his closest you can see how snug his black underwear is against the supple curve of his ass. fleetingly, because you are angry at his audacity, you allow your eyes to follow the curve of his asschecks and how the band of his underwear rests low on his hips. 

“teaching assistants and students aren’t to have any sexual relations,” jihoon recites. “it’s contract. if something happens, your little not-that-serious emoticon is evidence.”

you grab the pillow fully, swinging it around your body and at jihoon. it hits him in the middle. he lets out a soft noise of surprise. “you’re such an ass.”

jihoon shrugs. “we signed a contract, baby.” 

he tucks his thumbs underneath the waistband of his underwear, and then he’s pulling them down his legs. you don’t even have it in you to look away. you marvel at his naked lower half. his cock, thick and flaccid, hanging between his thighs. the dusky color of it; the dark hairs that travel from underneath the hem of his tank top to the base of his cock. 

jihoon pulls on a pair of grey joggers, concealing his cock and thighs from your eyes. “listen. i don’t want to be the bad guy. but we really can’t be risking anything.”

his cock is covered and he’s talking about something entirely different, but you’re still thinking about his dick. you’re still thinking about his dick as he walks from the bedroom, bare feet softly hitting the hardwood floors. 

you trail two of your fingers along your bare thigh. his dick, flaccid and thick in your hands. it feels like it’s been forever since you’ve had your hands or mouth or fucking cunt around his dick; forever since you last pressed your thumb against the slit of his cockhead, since his raspy, gentle groans were being pressed into your skin. 

you skim your nails along the soft insides of your thighs. 

it’s not like you’re sexually depraved. you and jihoon just had sex the other day. but there’s something about this, the situation, being strangers, that makes you feel as if you’re starving. 

your fingers move to your panties. you let your nails delicately linger alongside the lips of your cunt through the fabric, little sparks – little pieces of glitter, almost – making your toes curl. 

fuck lee jihoon, you think, and then you’re sliding your forefinger down between your pussy lips. you don’t move the fabric of your panties. leaning back against his bed, you let your finger drag down and push up, your wetness soaking your panties. 

his bed envelopes you as you lean back. tilting your hips up and bracing your feet against the mattress, you add another finger to the stimulation of your pussy. you let your fingers grow rougher, let them dig in slightly to the sensitive area around your clit. 

your fingers find your hole, stretching the fabric of your panties to reach in. 

“fuck.” 

your eyes flutter open – when did they shut? jihoon is standing at the entrance to his room. his long hair is pushed back from his face by a black headband. in one hand he holds a metal water bottle. 

his eyes are wide, his sweet lips parted as he stares at that spot between your thighs. 

jihoon shuffles further into the room, placing his water bottle on top of his set of drawers. you’ve begun absentmindedly petting your pussy, once again dragging your fingers over your clit lazily. 

jihoon presses his knees against the foot of his mattress. 

you hum, twisting your wrist. you press your thumb against the side of your clit, your fingers dipping once more to your hole. this morning you had chosen to wear a pair of pink panties. you don’t regret it now. you’re so soaking wet that you know jihoon can see the shape of your cunt through the fabric. 

your fingers begin to contract. you massage your pussy through the fabric leisurely, rhythmically. you drag your thumb down from your clit to meet your fingers, press your fingers down to barely sink into your hole. 

jihoon lets out a deep noise. he braces his hands against the mattress, makes a motion to crawl towards you. 

“no,” you say, words slightly slurred. “no. one point, remember?”

jihoon’s brow furrows. 

you reach down with your other hand, legs spreading wider. with your other hand you pull at the flesh of your pussy lips, offering your fingers more space to work with. you shift your hand, making sure to keep one lip in place. your other hand – the one with soaking fingertips – strokes up and down, up and down, up and down. 

jihoon’s hand settles on your ankle. you kick out. “no sex, yeah?”

jihoon lets out a strangled noise you’ve never heard from him. 

you let your eyes fall shut. you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. letting out a soft breath, your fingers begin to glide up and down your cunt more quickly. 

you begin to focus on your clit more. your hand that was holding your cunt lips moves up, focusing on baring the area around your clit. with your other hand you begin to stimulate the direct areas on either side of your clit. you are still working through your panties, but you’re so wet that the friction is almost nonexistent; your fingers just slide, massaging into the flesh. 

you begin to set a rhythm. you rock your forefinger and middle finger against the sensitive area around your clit. you rock once; twice; then you’re dipping your fingers down the length of your cunt, down to your hole; you drag them back up, and begin your elaborate play once more. 

it’s somewhat treacherous. it would be easier if it was jihoon. you would be able to fully relax back into the bed, just have to lay there and take it. 

but: no sex. 

so you slowly build up a climax, toes curling and chest arching up. it’s not sudden, not unexpected. it’s a slow climax that has your cunt tingling, head dropping back against the pillow. 

you continue to slip your fingers against your clit, dragging out your climax, continuing through it. 

eventually you come back to yourself. 

your wrist hurts; your fingers are cramping. discomfort takes over you more than lust, and so you relax your body back into the bed, hands moving from your pussy. 

and you look at jihoon. 

your boyfriend drags his gaze up from your pussy to your face. one of his hands is wrapped around his cock. he hasn’t taken it out of his joggers, just as you hadn’t taken off your drenched panties. you can see the thick outline of it through the grey fabric. the dusky head of it rises from the waistband of his pants. 

his hand disappears into his pants. you can see his knuckles as he drags his hand down the length of his cock. you pay special attention as his hand reappears, thumb bullying the fat head of his dick. 

you hum, stretching your arms above your head. you extend one of your legs, the other leisurely arching against the mattress. 

you let your hands wander along your chest. you aren’t doing it to stimulate yourself but to draw jihoon’s attention. to help him along, you suppose. 

his eyes follow the trailing of your fingers. one of your hands cradles a tit, the thumb of your other pinching a nipple against your forefinger. 

eventually jihoon lets out a groan, dropping his head. short spurts of cum pulses from his cock, soaking his hand. jihoon continues to fuck his fist through it, hissing and letting out breath moans. 

you feel sedated; satisfied. so does he. jihoon crawls up the length of the bed to plop next to you. he doesn’t cuddle against you. he just lays his body next to you, thick muscle of his arm against yours. 

“no sex,” he breathes out. 

“no sex.”

W E E K  F I V E  

you are going to murder your teaching assistant. 

the halls of the history building are nearly vacant save for the lone straggler. lee jihoon has his office hours late enough in the day to where most classes are over. most everyone’s day is over. 

but you are far from being done. 

the ta offices are tucked back with the professor offices, closed off behind a heavy wood door that matches the old style of the rest of the building. you get to the door a few minutes before his office hours officially start, glaring down at the screenshot on your phone. 

While your writing response over Medea is sufficient, I am loath to remind you to use proper citations in the responses. Otherwise it will be considered plagiarism. As a warning, your letter grade for this assignment will fall a whole grade. 

again: you were going to murder him. 

why couldn’t he just let you off with a warning? why did he immediately jump to taking your grade for the assignment down? he was being completely unfair and you weren’t going to stand for it. 

the clock on your phone switched to a minute closer to his office hours. 

still five minutes away. 

whatever. 

you reach out for the door knob, twisting the cold metal in your hand. the door is heavy to open, but you jam your shoulder against it and swing it open. 

the teaching assistant office is a room with three desks pressed against the wall on each side. there’s hard, uncomfortable chairs; two sockets in the entire room. 

and lee jihoon, sitting in one of the chairs with his cock in his hand. 

immediately your boyfriend flinches, eyes wide as he looks towards you. once jihoon sees it is, in fact, you and not some poor student walking in to request help. 

then, like you weren’t even there, jihoon turns away and begins fucking into his hand once more. 

you hurry through the door, shoving it shut behind you and pushing in the lock. 

all the while you don’t look away from jihoon. 

his teeth sink into his lower lip, and his head tips back to reveal the long column of his pale throat. his black bangs fall around his face, not obscuring a single centimeter. 

jihoon’s hand works quickly, furiously, over his dick. precum drenches the head. when he drags his hand down he hisses, face wincing. 

you move across the room, shrugging your backpack onto the ground. 

the assignment and grade having left your mind entirely, you kneel before jihoon. he peers down at you, eyebrows raised wearily. “no sex,” he reminds you. 

“no sex,” you agree. 

you raise your hand to your face. it’s the easiest thing to spit into your palm, to replace jihoon’s hand with your own. as soon as you squeeze around his dick jihoon lets out a low, raspy noise. 

his cock is thick and perfect in your hand, the heavy weight of it tempting. you want it in your mouth; want him to be fucking his cock down your throat. 

instead you let him fuck your hand. you move your hand down. the slide is slightly rough, your spit and his precum not quite enough. jihoon likes it, though; you know he does. his breath is harsh and labored, his eyes squeezed shut. 

you twist your wrist as you move your hand towards the head of his cock. you press your thumb into the slit of his dock. 

“gonna cum,” he warns you. 

then you think back to your letter grade. 

meanly, perhaps even cruelly, you drop your hand to the base of his cock and squeeze, cutting off his orgasm. jihoon lets out a startled, irritated noise. 

“my assignment.”

“fuck,” he grumbles, one of his hands raising to push back his bangs. “are you serious?”

“let me off with a warning,” you say. you keep one hand around the base of his dick, tight and trapping. your other hand goes to his balls. you hold them, thumb gently swiping over the flesh. 

jihoon’s breath shutters in his throat. 

“a warning,” you demand. 

“fuck,” he says again. “fine. a warning.”

triumphant, you let a large smile take over your face. you begin to move your hand once again. 

W E E K  N I N E 

“now that you’ve finished properly with oedipus rex,” jihoon begins, rounding the table at the front of the classroom, “let’s get some opinions. raise your hand if you enjoyed the play.”

more hands than not raise around the room, including mingyu’s. you shoot him a betrayed look. the past nine class weeks the two of you had been close, sitting next to one another during lecture and discussion. you traded conversation and thoughts more often than not, using one another to bounce ideas and theories. 

and for him to have enjoyed the play? 

jihoon moves to lean against the desk. he crosses his arms over his chest. this time he’s wearing all black. it seems to lengthen his figure, stretch him out, as well as broaden the line of his shoulders. 

he looks good. 

“let’s get some opinions on people who didn’t like the play.” immediately his eyes are on you, calling out your name. “you didn’t enjoy the play.”

traitor. 

you shift in your seat. “uh. no, not really.”

“why?”

you were going to suffocate him in his sleep. 

“it’s rather –” you break off, searching for words. you weren’t the literary student; he was. “i don’t understand him, i guess.”

jihoon tilts his head. “him? sophocles? or oedipus?”

“oedipus,” you clarify. 

“can you explain a little further? what exactly don’t you understand?”

you bite down on your tongue for a moment, trying to gather yourself. the classroom is silent as you wait, unintentionally putting pressure on your shoulders as you realize they were all waiting for you to speak up. 

“he – oedipus – he’s sort of stupid, isn’t he?” someone chokes behind you. you ignore them, looking at jihoon. despite him putting you on the spot like an asshole, he’s still your boyfriend. his face isn’t harsh, isn’t judging as he watches you struggle for words. for a moment he isn’t your ta – he’s your boyfriend. he’s your boyfriend and you’re having a plain, casual discussion. “i mean. he knows the prophecy. but he just does whatever he wants anyways? he’s just – he’s got no common sense.”

jihoon hums, tapping his fingers along his forearms. “so his arrogance has made him entirely unlikable to you. are there any redeeming treats, do you think?”

you shake your head. “it makes him deserve his ending, i think. he thought he was above it all.”

jihoon nods. “i see. remember that argument for your paper. that’s a big question that needs answered: does oedipus deserve his ending? you could analyze that further and get a pretty solid base for your essay.”

he begins to question other students about whether they liked the story or not, leaving you alone. the remainder of class flows as such, ending with jihoon gently urging everyone to write down their thoughts to revisit for the essay. 

you gather your things and put them into your backpack. mingyu loiters next to you, hands stuffed into the pockets of his dark jeans. 

“what’re you doing after this?” he reaches down and grabs your backpack after you’ve zipped it up, slinging it onto his shoulder. “wanna hit the library? we could bounce some more ideas around.”

smiling, you begin to agree. 

jihoon calls your name, having gathered his own things and lodging his foot in the heavy wooden door, keeping it ajar. “do you mind coming with me to the office for a minute or two? i want to talk about what you’ve said during class.”

you swallow back a sigh, throwing jihoon a firm-lipped smile. mingyu swings your backpack back off his shoulder, handing it to you. “good luck.”

you make a face at him. mingyu doesn’t know the true nature of the relationship between you and jihoon, but he does know that you’ve visited jihoon during office hours more than once. not a week has gone by without you setting foot into the little ta office, setting your printed-out versions of whatever classic the class was working on. 

“print every story out,” jihoon had advised, voice carrying that air of superiority he always seemed to gain when the two of you were sat in the dark office. “mark it up. it’ll help you pay close attention to every line.”

jihoon leads you to the ta office, weaving through the throngs of students making their way through the marble halls. you sort of want to reach out and grab onto his shirt, just to ensure he stays visible. but you don’t. 

another ta is in the office, steadily working away at their own homework. she throws a smile at the two of you as you enter. “hey, jihoon.”

“hey.” he crosses into the room, setting his laptop in front of the chair that he had, only a few weeks ago, received a rather satisfactory hand-job from you in. “your office hours are over, aren’t they?”

the other ta nods. “yep. just working now. never seems to end.”

jihoon settles into the wooden chair, flipping up the screen to his laptop. he had to change it from the selfie the two of you had taken during a hike, matching dandelion flowers tucked into your ears. now a mountain range greets him. “we’re gonna be discussing oedipus rex.”

“won’t be a bother to me!”

you push over a chair close to jihoon, the feet of it scraping against the floor. 

“pull out your notes,” jihoon says. he pulls up his own version of the play on his computer; they’re scans of his own copy, scribbles and highlighted passages littering every single page. “we’ll go over what exactly prompted you to think this way about oedipus. it’ll help you get a real solid foundation for the essay.

“so,” he says once you have your notes spread out. “oedipus is a flawed character. there’s no doubt about it. the stage directions themselves reveal as much.”

as he talks, raspy voice droning on and words blending together in your mind, jihoon’s foot begins to slide across the floor. you can’t help but look at it, watch it. his black leather shoe moves from in front of him, slowly, silently, gliding across the floor to nudge against your own shoe. 

“he does whatever he wants, that’s what you said?”

you nod. 

“during discussion you mentioned that he knew the prophecy and ignored it,” jihoon says. his foot now fully rests against yours. it’s just one point of contact, and yet it seems to electrify you; warm you up. you can’t help but focus on it, like a cat watching a bird through the window. 

“but he doesn’t,” jihoon says. “he thoroughly believes his parents to be the king and queen of corinth. according to oedipus, and forgetting the context we ourselves know, he has escaped his fate.”

his words fade out. jihoon’s hands settle on his keyboard, a single finger absentmindedly tapping at a key. it’s not hard enough to do anything. it’s just a simple tap, a fumbling gesture. 

his shoe shifts. he presses his foot against yours from toe to heel. 

the other ta in the room begins to collect her things. you listen to her as she moves about, closing her laptop and shuffling papers. 

jihoon shifts in his chair. his knees spread out. his trousers strain, just slightly, against his thick thighs. the barest sliver of pale ankle slips out from beneath his trousers, his black socks hidden beneath the leather lip of his shoes. 

the ta opens the door; closes it behind her. 

“his character is one the citizens of greece would have identified with – at least the ones in athens,” jihoon says, and then he’s turning his face towards you. feeling rather caught, you meet his eyes. “so why do you think he deserves his ending?”

you furrow your brows. you’ve gone over this. “because he actively chooses it through his arrogance. he ignores the prophecy.”

jihoon sighs, lips pursing together. “you haven’t paid attention to a single word i’ve said.”

your mouth falls open a little. “i have!”

“haven’t,” he corrects. 

jihoon stands from the chair. you miss being able to see the skin of his ankle. he crosses the room, hand falling to the door knob. he locks it. “i think we need to work on your attention span, don’t you?”

your mouth goes dry. he begins to unbutton the cuffs of his black shirt as he moves back across the room. he pushes up his sleeves, shoving off his thick forearms. “jihoon?”

jihoon sits back in his wooden chair, legs automatically spreading out. one of his hands rests on the armrest of the chair, while he set his elbow on the other, using it to prop up his head. jihoon raises his brows at you. “well?”

“what?”

he sighs, as if burdened. “take off your pants and underwear.”

you snap your head towards the door. after verifying no one had magically walked through, you look back at jihoon, hissing his name. “what are you going on about?”

“we need to work on your memory,” he explains matter-of-factly, voice taking on that arrogant lilt he so often gets when in this room. jihoon likes this, you think; likes being in a position of power over you. likes being able to boss you around; able to tell you what to do. 

with one last glance at the door, you stand from your wooden chair. jihoon watches unabashedly as you work your pants down over your ass. you leave both your jeans and underwear on the hard floor of the office. 

jihoon pats his thigh wordlessly. 

you feel heat rush towards your cheeks. you’ve sat on his thighs before, have ridden them before. but it felt so fucking different to be lowering yourself onto the thick muscle in a university office, your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, the backs of your hands lightly brushing against the wood of his chair. 

you don’t do anything for a moment other than just sit on his thigh. the fabric of his pants is like silk against your skin, and you can’t help but slowly, hesitantly, rock your hips down onto him. 

jihoon’s hands go to your hips. he tilts his head back, the curls framing his temples brushing against the corners of his eyes. 

“now,” he says, “you think oedipus ignores his prophecy.”

you look down at your boyfriend, pouting at him. “you’re punishing me because i have a different opinion than you? about some old play?”

jihoon presses his lips together. then his hand is coming down sharply on your outer thigh, the sound acutely piercing your ears and reverberating in your head. he rubs roughly at the skin after, thumb swiping against the patch of skin as it turns violent with anger from his slap. 

“because you’re ignoring the text,” jihoon says. his hand slides from your thigh around to your ass. his fingers dig into your asscheek, contemplating the weight of it. “it’d be one thing if you had actual evidence that wasn’t in conflict with what sophocles was telling us.”

“if you’re trying to get me wet,” you say, thumbs tapping against his shoulders, “i’m not sure this is the way to go.”

jihoon moves the hand that was on your ass back to your hips. he squeezes the flesh beneath his hands, and then he’s slowly leading you into a rocking motion. it’s not much, but there’s enough connection between your cunt and his thigh to have a gentle swell of lust licking at your pussy. 

“don’t be smart,” he says. 

“you act smart all the time,” you snap back. you keep rocking your hips. “why can’t i?”

he scoffs a little, nails slightly digging into your skin. instead of any pain, they send a little spark of heat through you. “i’ve got degrees in this,” he explains. “i’m literally allowed to talk about this.”

“now,” he says, “oedipus never ignores his fate. he says as much. he believes polybus and merope to be his parents. when he becomes doubtful, he confronts them: ‘. . . i went to mother and father, questioned them closely . . . so as for my parents i was satisfied . . .’”

for a moment you’re speechless. and then you let out a loud laugh despite yourself. “you little fucking nerd, reciting oedipus rex to your girlfriend while she’s rubbing herself on her thigh.”

jihoon’s jaw tightens. he moves, hands on your hips pushing you up and off of him. once you’re standing, he joins you. as soon as jihoon is on his feet he’s pushing you around, moving so your bare ass is against his front. then he pushes further, pressing your body against the table in front of you. the edge of your table reaches your upper thigh, and so it’s easy for jihoon to place his hand against the middle of your back and press you until your front is firmly against the surface of the table. 

as soon as your chin is touching the cold table, jihoon is bringing his hand down sharply against your ass. you can’t help but let out a startled shout, body jerking from underneath him. 

“be good,” he murmurs, hand now gentle as he rubs at your skin in apology. “listen to your ta. trying to help, baby.”

“you’re being mean,” you say, toes curling against the frigid office floor as his hand travels to rest against the curve of your ass. 

“wouldn’t have to be if you’d be good,” he says. jihoon moves his hand down, the tip of his forefinger gliding against the area where your ass and thigh meet. “you gonna be good for me?”

you shift, moving one of your arms so you can rest your face against it. forehead pressing against your forearm, you nod. 

“good. now oedipus believed polybus and merope to be his true parents. he was still desperate to avoid the prophecy, so he abandoned his princely title and corinth. he wanted to be free of it, baby.”

his fingers tip inwards. your entire body tenses as his fingertips press alongside your folds. he doesn’t do anything further; doesn’t insert them. instead he just keeps them there, absentmindedly shifting his hand. 

“he is arrogant,” jihoon absconds, allowing you a single point. “we see that in the beginning. ‘. . . the world knows my fame: i am oedipus.’”

jihoon waits for a moment after quoting the play. when you don’t do anything other than let out a shaky breath, he rewards you. jihoon slowly moves his fingers against your cunt. he trails his fingers up and down your length. he maps out the full expanse of your pussy. his fingers slide up over your hole, which was now leaking and clenching properly. he brushes his digits over your clit almost clinically, giving it no more attention than the rest of you. 

“but he doesn’t ignore the prophecy. he believes he’s foiled it until he forces the shepherd to tell his story. he refuses to stop; refuses to listen to reason. he’s arrogant, yes, and hurtles straight towards the horrid truth of his parentage and marriage without a second thought.”

jihoon slowly, tortuously, slips a single finger into your cunt. his finger isn’t so thick to cause any discomfort. instead your pussy welcomes it, clenching around the digit. you can’t help but bare down on his finger, hips searching for more.

later you’ll remember to be mortified by the fact your boyfriend got you wet while talking about sophocles. 

but now you press your eyes shut, fingers lightly scraping against the surface of the desk. 

jihoon pushes his finger all the way inside of your pussy. you can feel it when it’s fully in, his knuckles scraping against your flesh. 

you cart your hips back, trying to get his finger to graze that special spongey place. 

“be good,” jihoon says, and then he’s retracting his finger from your cunt entirely. 

you let out a small gasp, brow furrowing. you turn your head to peer back at him. “hoonie….”

jihoon laughs at you, and then he’s lowering himself to press his chest along the line of your back. jihoon presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, one of his hands still holding tight to your hips. “you’re so cute when i’m fucking you,” he says, mouth moving against your cheek as he speaks. “you always get so cute. what is this?”

you pout at him. jihoon presses another kiss to your cheek, and then he’s standing. 

this time jihoon slides in two fingers. you frown, insistently pressing your forehead against your forearm as the stretch of his fingers slightly burns. it’s not unpleasant, of course. just a gentle burn that signals the walls of your pussy stretching to accommodate him. 

“there,” he says, satisfied. “now. where was i?”

he’s silent. you realize he’s waiting for you to speak, to prove you were listening. 

you let out a strangled groan, trying to think back. he had a single finger inside of you and it wasn’t enough. you try to think. you try to think of a single word to say that isn’t fuck or more; try to think despite the way jihoon is slowly angling his fingers towards your front, pressing them up. 

you can’t help but press your thighs together in anticipation. 

jihoon clicks his tongue, and then he’s pulling his fingers out. you let out a whine, trying to push yourself away from the desk. 

both of his hands go to your shoulders, keeping you firmly against the surface. “stay still,” he warns you. “i know you have a listening problem but i didn’t think it was this bad.”

there’s a rustle of clothing behind you. “don’t look,” jihoon says. “keep your face against the table.”

you can’t think of a reply, can’t think of anything to do other than what he says. you wonder if you should feel ashamed of how easily you become compliant for him. 

“oedipus doesn’t ignore the prophecy,” jihoon restates, and then he’s pressing his front against your ass. he’s taken off his pants and is just in his underwear. you can feel the shape of his thick cock against your ass, can feel it’s hard length along you. “he just believes polybus and merope when they say they are his true parents. there’s no harm in that. anyone would want to believe it when the people who raise them say they are their true parents.”

jihoon rocks his hips against you. his hands are holding your hips still as he, essentially, humps against your ass. 

“so in that regard your argument has a fallacy,” jihoon announces. 

a fallacy? 

you want to say something biting about how he’s able to even think about fallacies and arguments when he’s humping your ass, but then jihoon is returning two of his fingers to your pussy and you elect to keep silent. 

“he is arrogant, though,” jihoon says. he pushes two of his fingertips into your hole. you clench hungrily around them as if your pussy was trying to suck them in. you wonder if you’ve always been so – so whorish for him, or if it was a recent development from not having been properly fucked in nine weeks. 

“his pride is something that transcends time,” jihoon carries on. he doesn’t press his fingers any deeper inside of you. he rests the tip of his ring finger just barely against your clit. he doesn’t move it either; just rests it there, taunting. 

“everyone can think of a political leader who is too arrogant for their own good,” jihoon says. “it’s a tale as old as time. sophocles set the precedent with this story. a king on top of the world who listens to no one, only to be brought down to his knees by fate.”

jihoon begins to slide his fingers in. he does it leisurely, slowly, as if he has all the time in the world. 

“the evolution of his character is a fascinating one,” jihoon says, his ring finger leaving its place to instead rest against your hole. he doesn’t slide it in. you want to buck your hips back and force it inside. “arrogance to being humbled in every sense of the word. he is only wise until he can no longer see; only sees the truth once he is blinded

“do you remember,” jihoon says, “what he says after he blinds himself?”

you shake your head against your arm. his two fingers are nearly settled entirely inside of your pussy. you want them so deep inside of you that you can feel them in your throat. 

involuntarily you clench around his digits. 

jihoon clicks his tongue. his fingers stop moving in you. “what did i say? be good. none of this shit.”

you let out a little whine, your free hand curling into a fist. “sorry,” you say, unable to keep your voice from pitching up in desperation. “i’m sorry, hoonie.”

“say you won’t move,” jihoon instructs, voice seemingly detached. “say you’ll be a good girl for me and won’t move.”

your lower lip wobbles. you feel somewhat humiliated like this: your front pressing against the surface of a ta desk, shirt rucked up along your stomach and bare toes curling against the marble floors of the university history building. your boyfriend pressing all up against you, fingers stuffed into your cunt, telling you what to do as if you were some pathetic whore, desperate for a cock inside. 

but, because you are exactly that, you repeat his words, feeling wetness trickle from your pussy. “i’ll be good,” you whimper out. “i won’t move. i’ll be a good girl.”

jihoon lets out a quiet, nearly-silent huff of laughter. he retracts his fingers from your pussy, and immediately you’re feeling panic strike you. 

“be patient,” he chides you as you begin to press back against him. three of jihoon’s press against your hole. “be a good girl.”

jihoon pushes his three fingers into your pussy. you let out a high keening noise like a wounded animal, eyes squeezing shut and cunt eagerly drinking his fingers up. they’re nothing like his dick, aren’t as thick or delicious, but they’re something. 

the stretch burns and you wiggle absentmindedly, relishing in it. the burn is acute and hot and you yearn to press into it, to take more and more and more. 

“good,” he says once all three of his fingers are stuffed inside of you. “you look pretty like this, baby. you know that?”

you whine. you don’t move. 

jihoon’s three fingers press up, and when they bump against your bundle of nerves you can’t help but wiggle back, searching. 

“do you remember?” he repeats. “what’s the first thing oedipus says after he’s blinded?”

you shake your head. you don’t know how he expects you to think about anything. you feel as if you’ve been strung along, as if he’s been tugging at a chain and you’ve been stumbling behind him. 

“‘oh,” jihoon quotes, and then he’s lowering himself to press against you. his mouth it against your ear, his fingers shifting within your pussy due to his change of position. when he speaks again you can hear his voice as clear as day despite how he murmurs, and it’s as if he’s wrapped entirely around you; as if he’s consumed you. “‘oh, the agony! i am agony.’”

jihoon presses his fingers back into you so the tips of them were pressing against your pleasure spot once more. 

“he’s felt true agony now,” jihoon explains. he keeps his fingers still now. “he’s an icarus fallen to the earth. his wings of wax have melted. he’s a king with his word left in crumbles; with his queen dead and children made of sin. he’s nothing.”

jihoon’s nose presses against the shell of your ear. “his arrogance was his destruction. can you tell me more about it?”

you open your mouth to speak. you can’t. and even if you could, it isn’t as if your brain is working. there’s nothing inside of your mind. the lust, the desire, that takes over your body is so big it swallows up everything else and renders you dumb. 

jihoon huffs out a laugh, mean. “fine. at least do this to prove you’ve listened to me: tell me the first thing oedipus says after becoming blind.”

you feel as if he’s surrounding you. you can feel jihoon’s weight along your back, can feel his fingers inside of your cunt, stretching you out. you feel so keyed up, so ready for something. not something – him. you want jihoon. you want him carnally. you want his dick stuffed inside of your pussy. you want his mouth on your neck; want his hands on your tits. you want him pressing your face into the desk and drilling into your pussy. 

you open your mouth. an embarrassing noise comes out. 

“come on,” jihoon says. “you can do it.”

“‘oh,’” you breathe out, trying to remember the exact words. “oh, agony! i’m — i’m agony!”

jihoon must judge your vague quotation as good enough. he moves off of your back, and you can’t help but whine, wanting his weight settled against you once more. 

his hand shifts inside of you. 

he slides his fingers out. you can feel your cunt resisting the slide, pussy clenching down on his fingers. 

“hoonie,” you beg. 

“be good,” he chides you. “remember. no sex.”

and then jihoon is thrusting his fingers so forcefully into your pussy that you can feel the sting as his knuckles hit your ass. the sharp noise of skin hitting skin rings out. you can barely process it before he’s withdrawing his fingers and fucking them back in just as quickly. 

jihoon finger-fucks you harshly, as if it were his dick he was shoving inside. your ass jiggles with each thrust back in. you whine and cry, and you can feel your ass begin to smarten from the sting. but you still arch back and meet each thrust of his fingers eagerly, craving the pleasure-pain. 

it’s rough and you can feel the orgasm, that string he had been messing with for what seems to be hours, begin to tighten. 

“want,” you pant out, fingernails scraping against the desk. “want you, hoonie. please, please, please.”

“beg, baby.”

you let out a cry. there’s tears at the corners of your eyes. “please, hoonie. i want you. want you, want you. i want you, hoonie.”

your voice breaks off, tight with emotion. 

jihoon lets out a curse, and then he’s dropping behind you. jihoon shoves your leg up, and you follow suit, placing your knee on the able and giving him access to your pussy. jihoon shoves a hand against your thigh, keeping it in place on the table. 

his mouth licks a stripe from where his fingers plunge into your pussy to your clit, taking that aching muscle between his lips and suckling. 

when you orgasm it’s harsh and loud, fluids gushing from your pussy and soaking jihoon’s face. he takes you into his arms, pulling you to the floor with him and pressing kisses to your face. 

“good girl,” he murmurs, voice raspy and comforting. the office is drenched in the smell of pussy – of your pussy – and his nose shines with your release. he ignores it, his clean hand pushing back stray strands of hair from your face so he can press a sweet kiss to your nose. “good girl.”

W E E K  T H I R T E E N

you think, fleetingly, that you’re not being fair. 

but then you remember that girl – girl, because she can’t be any older than eighteen, fresh out of high school and far too young to be sniffing around your boyfriend – and how she pressed close to jihoon as she showed him something on her computer, and you can’t help but think you’re not being harsh enough. 

with that in the forefront of your mind, you ease the hot pink dildo in your aching cunt. you can feel fluid gush from your pussy, a slick combination of your own desire and the generous amount of lube you had massaged onto the dildo. 

the stretch burns, stretching the walls of your pussy. it’s a stark, acute contrast to the three fingers you used to stretch yourself, and you couldn’t help but arch your back up off of jihoon’s couch, toes curling and mouth dropping open. 

you can feel the fluids leak down your pussy, sliding along the curve of your ass. 

good, you think. sink into the fabric of the couch so from now on, whenever he sits here, he has to smell your cunt. 

your hand stills once the base of the dildo is flush against your ass. you shift, hips tilting as you try to relieve some of the sting. 

you stretch out for your phone, glancing at the time. the dildo is pushed from your pussy by the movement. 

jihoon will be home any minute. your hand returns to the dildo, pushing it back into your pussy. your cunt sucks it in, eager and greedy. 

clenching down on the dildo, you can’t help the thrill of satisfaction that shoots through you. you feel so delightfully full, as if some part of you was a gaping hole that needed to be filled. 

well – 

you suppose that line of thought isn’t too wrong. 

you grab the dildo, fingernails digging slightly into the jelly-like texture. you slide the dildo from your cunt. despite how much lube you used, despite how wet your cunt is, the dildo still is slow to slide out, your pussy clamping down to try and keep it in place. 

you pull it out until just the tip of the dildo is pressed against your hole. your juices glint evilly on the dildo, a long, thick string along the side of it. 

slowly you ease it back inside. you tip your head back, foot pressing down on the cushion of the couch in an attempt to mentally steady yourself. it’s a dragging sensation that has impatience licking at your brain, trying to push its way to the forefront. 

you pump the dildo in and out, in and out, until you are satisfied that the burn from your pussy stretching to accommodate it is no more. 

you draw it out. 

and then you force it back in, sharp enough for the gelatin balls to slap against your ass in a poor mimicry of the real thing. 

your free hand goes to your tit, framing a pebbled nipple between two of your fingers. you massage it, pull it, as you harshly fuck the dildo in, soft pants escaping your mouth as your body begins to ignite with pleasure and the wanton desire for more. 

you can’t help but want. it’s as if the desire is written into your dna, lining the fabric of your entire being. you want to be fucked, want to be thrown onto your front and taken from behind; want jihoon fucking his fat cock into your pussy in one swift motion, forcing your pussy to stretch around him. 

you want jihoon. 

you could devour him, you think as you crook the dildo up towards the front of your body, searching for your g-spot. you would devour him whole. you would take and take from him until he’s entirely yours, body and soul. 

the lock to the door clicks. you hurriedly bring the fingers messing with your nipple up to your mouth, licking at them before taking the nub between them and rolling. 

the front door to jihoon’s apartment swings open, your boyfriend stepping through. his eyes immediately catch on you, naked and wanton. 

“what – fuck –” he shoves the door shut behind him, loud and firm. “what the fuck are you doing?!”

you slide the dildo from your pussy, slow and torturous, ensuring he’s watching. jihoon’s eyes, naturally, flick down to your pussy. the dildo is still slick with fluid, and you can where the more dense of your fluids stain the pink of the dick. 

“what are you doing,” he repeats, dropping his leather bag to the floor. 

“taking matters – ah,” you moan out, massaging your gummy g-spot with the head of the dick. “taking matters into my own hands, jihoon; what else?”

his hands go to his shirt. jihoon hurriedly pushes at the buttons of his white dress shirt, letting it fall to the floor after he’s done. his trousers follow suit, and he leaves them behind with his shoes and socks. 

“what are you doing?” you grin at jihoon toothily, echoing his words. “no sex, remember?”

jihoon moves towards you regardless. he had done his hair that morning, gelling it back. now a few stray strands frame his temples, giving him a perfectly disheveled look. his tank top does nothing to conceal his collar bones, the line of his shoulders proud and wide. 

his hands find your thighs. he separates your legs, baring your pussy entirely. 

you still your hand, just keeping the dildo snug inside of you, refusing to move it further. “what are you doing, jihoon?”

“looking,” he retorts, eyes dancing around your body as he takes you in. you think you look like some perverted creature, carnal desire and desperation written onto every centimeter of skin. 

“don’t touch,” you chide him, moving an leg from his grasp. jihoon tightens his hold on the other as you press your foot against his chest, lightly pressing in a piss-poor attempt to push him back. 

jihoon rolls his eyes at you, nose crinkling and mouth twisting into a sneer. 

“oh,” you breathe out, sheathing the dildo fully inside once more. his eyes meet yours. you let a grin take over, unable to help but tease him. “‘oh, the agony! i am agony!’ isn’t that right, hoonie?”

for a split second you can see shock take over jihoon’s features, catlike eyes widening. a strike of triumph hits you, feeling as if you are the cat that got the canary. 

but then jihoon is grabbing the dildo from your hand. he pulls it out, the slide making your mouth drop in a gasp and body arch up off of the couch. 

“h – hoonie –!”

“agony,” he hisses, and then jihoon is shoving his boxers down to his knees. 

his cock bounces from his underwear, slapping against the fabric of his tank-top. it’s thick and angry, and when he runs his hand along it, rubbing at the head, a thick marble of precum leaks from it. 

“no – no sex,” you say, voice hoarse as you subconsciously keep your eyes on his cock. you’ve been starving for jihoon’s dick for so long, and here it is, thick and pulsing in front of you. 

and like a starving woman in front of a table overflowing with food, you eagerly welcome jihoon’s dick when he presses the tip against your hole. you spread your legs, knees knocking against his hips as he presses against you. 

jihoon keeps his dick in hand, not entering you. he rubs his dick up between your folds, a soft curse escaping his lips at how wet you are. once he’s at your clit he stops, rubbing the head of his dick against you. 

“fuck –” your voice is taking on a whining tone, and you can’t help but fleetingly wonder what happened to you showing jihoon who’s boss, making him witness just what he’s missing. but that thought is gone from your mind as soon as it enters, and instead you’/re pleading with jihoon. “please, hoonie – please fuck me, please.”

he sighs, the tip of his cock pressing against your hole. still, he doesn’t enter you. “i thought we agreed on no sex,” he says. “no sex until the semester is over.”

you cry out, hips trying to shift upwards and force his dick inside. jihoon pulls back. “please – put it in. it won’t count – won’t count if you don’t cum in me, yeah? won’t count if i don’t cum around your dick.”

jihoon lets out a loud, shivering groan that seems to release from the depths of his soul. 

jihoon presses his dick into your cunt. the head pops past your entrance, and then he’s sliding home. 

your pussy takes jihoon eagerly, sufficiently prepared by your fingers and the dildo. his dick is just slightly thicker than the dildo, and so there is a pleasurable sting that burns at your core. it’s not horrible, and you let out a moan as you cant your hips up. 

jihoon doesn’t stop pressing into you until his balls are against your ass. his hands are on either of your legs, keeping you spread for him. jihoon uses his grip on you to push himself back, bringing his cock out of your cunt slowly. the drag of his dick is delicious, is everything you’ve been missing for months. 

you’re not sure if this is just because you haven’t been fucked appropriately since august and it’s in the middle of november, but you feel completely overwhelmed by jihoon. 

his cock feels so good inside of you. it’s thick and warm, and when he shifts his dick presses up towards your core. his blunt head presses against your g-spot, and you can’t help the little mewl of approval that escapes you. 

“feels good,” he breathes out. his eyes flutter, nails digging into your skin. “you feel so fucking good.”

jihoon pulls his hips back, leaving your pussy save for the tip of his dick. he lingers, the fat head of his dick keeping you plugged. 

when jihoon thrusts in, it’s rough and well-aimed for your g-spot. you let out a shrill noise, eyes rolling back. you don’t know if sex has ever felt like this before – if you’ve ever felt so overwhelmed just by a single thrust. 

your hands scramble, grabbing at the couch. “hoonie!”

he slides out; fucks back in. 

jihoon’s pace is rough, as if he’s making up for lost time. as if he’s determined to mold your pussy back into the shape of his dick. he uses your pussy, uses you. he uses your cunt in an almost detached way, as if you were some random fuck and not his treasured girlfriend. 

eventually jihoon is pulling from your cunt with a strangled moan. his dick is drenched with your fluids, thick strings decorating it like lewd jewelry. jihoon palms his dick, and then he’s thrusting into his hand once, twice, thrice before he cums onto your stomach. 

he lets out a moan, a gasp of your own joining. his cum is thick and hot. you want to shove it into your pussy. 

jihoon’s hands go back to your thighs, and then he’s dropping to his knees. 

“can’t wait to fuck you,” he groans, “can’t wait to fill you up. as soon as finals are over, you’re mine. got it? you’re mine.”

then his tongue is licking a stripe up from your cunt to your clit, and all other thoughts leave you. 

W E E K  S I X T E E N

the lecture hall, just like most of the rest of campus, is nearly deserted. 

you had left your apartment as soon as the email about your final grade dinged your phone, delight and want immediately turning at your stomach. you had been looking forward to this day for months: the day you and jihoon were finally free to fuck (and publicly be in a relationship, but that wasn’t the most pressing matter at the moment). 

jihoon was at the front of the large room, talking to the last stragglers of the exam he had to oversee. you rush down the steps, unable to help the broad smile on your face. 

your boyfriend looks up as you thunder down the auditorium, and you catch the moment his own face breaks out into a wide grin. 

he calls out your name as you step off of the last step. 

the student he’s talking to waves goodbye, and you take the spot where he had been standing. 

“hey,” you say, unable to keep your smile tamed. “how’s it going?”

jihoon rolls his eyes at you, folding his arms over his chest. this close to him you could smell his cologne, the sharp smells of amber and vanilla. he was wearing his white dress shirt again, though this time it was dressed up with a simple black tie. 

“glad it’s over,” jihoon murmurs. 

you glance around the room. there’s two girls at the back, talking excitedly as one of them packs up their things. 

“took you forever to grade the exams.”

jihoon scoffs. “as if. you turned it in last night at midnight.”

you shrug. the girls begin to make their way out of the room, calling out good-byes to jihoon. 

“all things considered,” he says, raising a hand in acknowledgement towards the girls, “this semester wasn’t so bad.”

you laugh at him. “it’s been agony to me,” you say, knowing how loaded the word is for the both of you. 

the heavy wooden doors shut solemnly behind the girls. it’s as if a switch flicks off in jihoon’s mind. his eyes visibly soften before you, his smile taking on a gentler shape. 

“i missed you,” he says. he doesn’t say anything else; that isn’t jihoon’s way. he’d write a thousand poems for you and keep them locked away. he’ll say three words, i missed you, and his meaning will include a hundred other things: i love you; i adore you; i want you close to me always; you bewitch me. 

“i missed you, too,” you echo, hoping he feels the weight of your simple response. 

jihoon keeps his face passive as he opens his arms, and you go easily into his embrace. you burrow your face into his neck, breathing him in. he wraps his thick arms around you, pressing you close to his body. 

for a moment the two of you just exist in this little universe. 

jihoon is the first to pull away, though he doesn’t go far. as if magnetic, you tilt your lips towards him, meeting his mouth halfway. 

the kiss begins gentle and solemn. it’s the end of a sentence, finishing the semester, which had been filled with tension and desperation, with a sweet embrace and soft lips. 

you separate your mouth from his. you skim your lips along his chin, following the edge of his jaw. you trace the edges of his face with your mouth, trying to memorize the shape of him. 

“i missed you,” you say again. 

jihoon is silent. he sinks a hand into your hair, cradling the back of your head. he guides your face back to his, his lips pressing a long kiss to yours. 

this time when jihoon kisses you it’s firm. his mouth is insistent against yours, devouring you in a way that leaves you breathless. he presses you back, his tongue sliding past your lips. 

jihoon walks you backwards until your thighs are bumping against the table. he keeps your head still, tongue licking into your mouth and exploring. 

his free hand slides beneath your shirt, grabbing at the flesh of your hip. 

“hoonie,” you say, pulling back from his mouth. jihoon hums, pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth. “want you.”

“got me,” he returns. 

despite his gentle words, jihoon’s hands move quickly against you. he tosses your shirt and bra aside, mouth attaching to your neck as soon as you are bare. his hand slides down to the waistband of your pants, fingers dipping past it. jihoon presses open-mouthed kisses to your skin, eager to reefamiliarize himself with your body entirely. his nips at the curve of your tit, and then his mouth is suckling at a pebbled nippple. 

you whine against him. you run your hands overh im. you feel the curve of his own pecs, feel the flat plane of his stomach, still hidden by his shirt. you tug at his tie, and then you’re molding your hand against his straining erection. 

jihoon groans against you. “careful,” he says. 

“we shouldn’t get too carried away,” you return. your fingers find the button of his trousers nonetheless. it’s the easiest thing to pop it through the hole, loosening his pants. “we should go home. anyone could walk in.”

“‘oh, the agony,’” jihoon says, and then he’s turning you around and pressing you against the table. 

he’s quick to pull your pants and underwear to your ankles. jihoon helps you step out of them, leaving them in a discarded mess by the leg of the table. 

he smooths his hands over your legs and thighs as he stands, his tough heavy and warm. jihoon positions you; slides his hand along your leg and pushes it up onto the table, foot dangling over the edge. 

he slides two of his fingers inside of your pussy. you clench down on the intrusion, biting down on your lip. 

“don’t –” you sigh out, turning over your shoulder to look at him. “i’m ready.”

jihoon blinks at you for a moment, and then he’s cursing. “slut,” he says, though his lips twitch up into a grin. 

he doesn’t bother undressing all the way. you can feel the fabric of his pants bunch against your ass when his cock is buried deep inside. his cock stretches you so delightfully. you feel as if you’re finally whole after an eternity of missing something. 

maybe you really are a slut. 

jihoon slides his dick out slowly, making you feel every centimeter of his cock. the glide is nearly on the side of too-dry, but your eyes roll back nonetheless, nails scraping against the wood of the table. 

“fuck,” he breathes out, and then he’s punching his dick back into your pussy. 

you rock forward on the table, the edge of it digging into you. you don’t mind it. instead you push back, meeting his thrust. 

“missed you,” jihoon says. you wonder if he’s talking about your pussy. you wouldn’t blame him if he was: you missed his cock, afterall. 

you missed out his dick feels within you, heavy and stretching you out. you missed how he fucks into you, how his hips slap against your ass. you missed the sting of him fucking you, the sting of skin against skin coupled with the electric sparks of pleasure that shoot through you when the blunt head of his cock hits your g-spot. 

jihoon fucks you as if you were reuniting. which, you suppose, you are. he fucks you as if he’s treasuring each thrust, as if he’s making sure each rock of his hips is perfect to make up for lost time. 

you can feel the fabric of his shirt when jihoon presses his front against your back. his black tie dangles beside your face. he uses his weight to keep you against the table, his hips picking up pace. 

he practically jackrabbits into your pussy, hips frantic. 

“missed you,” he says, and then he’s grabbing your face to press another open-mouthed kiss to your lips. there’s no finesse: it’s just as messy as the way he fucks you. spit slides from mouth to mouth, tongues meeting and tangling. 

he’s devouring you, you realize. he’s gobbling you up, owning you inside and out. 

jihoon reaches down, his fingers finding your clit easily. he slips his fingers against your clit, the wetness of your pussy making the glide easy. his fingers against your clit are just as frantic as his hips fucking into you, and the combined sensation brings your orgasm crashing down around you more quickly than you would like. 

he slows his hips to a stop as you cum around his cock, whining high at the back of your throat. it’s overwhelming. you haven’t cum around his dick in months. his cock stretches you still, and every minute shift of your hips back against him has his dick pressing against all the sensitive places. 

“good?” his voice is raspy against your hair. 

you nod. 

jihoon pulls back, and you hiss at the feeling of his dick leaving your pussy. 

he doesn’t stay gone for long. jihoon maneuvers you onto your back. he grabs each of your thighs, holding them up and baring you to him. you can feel the juices of your release as they slide down your cunt. 

he thrusts back in. immediately you’re tossing your head back against the table, eyes rolling back. your toes curl. 

jihoon hooks your legs over the crook of each of his arms, and then he’s setting a harsh pace once again. his grunts are loud againsts the quiet of the room, the slapping of skin against skin sending heat rushing up towards your face. you feel too high strung, feel as if your neurons and electrons are buzzing around underneath your skin. you want to move away from his cock and how it tortures you, pressing against your g-spot as sensitivity rears its ugly head; you want to fuck down onto his dick until you’re unable to walk. 

when jihoon cums, it’s copious. it’s too much. you feel his dick throb within you as he spills, filling you with hot seed. it’s so much; you want more. 

jihoon pulls his dick from your pussy only once he’s finished. he isn’t done with you, though. 

he slaps his palm against your cunt, the sensation acute and electric. 

you want to cry. you don’t want him to ever stop. 

jihoon slaps your cunt again, and then he’s hooking three of his fingers inside of your pussy. he thrusts him inside in the same fashion he did his cock: harshly, roughly. the sting of his knuckles against your flesh isn’t unlike the sting of his hips. 

when you cum, it’s with a loud sob. he presses the fingers of his free hand against your clit, rubbing it once more while his fingers keep pressing up against your g-spot, relentless in his mission of wringing you dry. 

after it’s over, you hold out your arms. 

jihoon gathers you into his embrace easily, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you know you should hurry and dress, know that it’ll be a matter of time before someone wanders into the room. 

you don’t care. 

instead you just bask in the attention of your boyfriend, forehead pressing to his shoulder. 

[cerise-on-top]

Hiii, how have you been??!! and could you please write könig and laswell with a partner who has a very heavy Russian accent? :)

Hey there! I've been terrible, but life goes on :-)

Laswell and König with an S/O with a Heavy Russian Accent

Laswell: She knows Nikolai, doesn’t she? He speaks with a rather heavy Russian accent, so it’s not like she’s not used to it. She’ll understand you just fine. In fact, she probably thinks it’s kind of endearing. Your accent is proof that you are fluent in another language, what’s better than that? Besides, Russian is a very lovely language, she thinks it’s very pretty and pleasant to listen to. If you want to, the both of you can converse in Russian, she’s fluent in it as well. But she would not pass up an opportunity to hear your adorable little accent either. If you have trouble pronouncing some words, then she’ll smile at you, fully aware that the English language sucks. While she would lovingly correct you, she would understand if you held contempt towards English. If she had been forced to learn it, she would too. And that’s saying something considering she probably knows 13 languages or something. Though, I do think she’ll sometimes try to get you to say some of the more difficult words, or some, that are just downright bullshit, just to hear you get mad.

König: He learned about World War 2 in history class at four different occasions throughout his school years, so he still remembers a bit of it. He’ll sometimes joke that you’ve come to kill him because of your accent and because he’s Austrian. You strike fear into his heart every time you speak. Just kidding, he just likes talking about Austria a lot. He speaks with a very heavy German accent, so there’s a good chance neither of you can understand each other well all the time. Though, he has to talk to Nikto here and there, so there’s a good chance he’s more used to hearing a Russian accent than you are to a German one. If it makes things more simple, he’ll learn Russian for you. But keep in mind that he’s 40 and that he’ll speak Russian with a very heavy accent as well. But hey, maybe it helps. He doesn’t mind your accent very much, he also sees it as something that shows you’re fluent in another language. He just wishes he could understand you better from time to time. His English isn’t the best out there either, he curses the language every day, and it’s sometimes hard to understand him as well. He just hopes the both of you can understand each other more often than not.

[chososrightnipple]

❝𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨)❞

a/n: almost four hundred followers omg.. i love all you freaks mwah!! here is part two as promised. included some requests for characters. aged up! megumi and yuji of course. might do a part three maybeeee? afab body w/no gendered language as usual.

part one.

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

▸ panty stealing. he thinks of it as memorabilia. snatching your panties from the floor before you have the chance to put them back on- just something he keeps to remember you bye.

▸ daddy kink. we all saw this coming, right? you call him daddy once and it's all he needs to fuck you into the bed for the rest of the night.

▸ thigh riding. seeing you frotting against his large thigh, desperate to cum, pussy practically drooling for it... his favorite foreplay 100%.

▸ cum play. this man will cum anywhere and everywhere and he'll love it. let him cum on your face, your ass, your chest, your back, down your throat, etc etc.

▸ hatefucking. angry sex after an argument where he takes out all of the stress you caused him on your poor holes :(

▸ breeding. you can give him another baby, can't you? you can make him a daddy all over again, right? just let him cum inside of you as much as he wants, he'll make it happen, he swears.

▸ exhibitionism. you grind against him once on the bar floor and next thing you know he's dragging out to the empty alleyway and pressing you against the nearest wall.

▸ size difference. he's so large, so big, every single part of him practically overtaking you. and he gets off on that fact so fucking hard!!

. *. ⋆ NANAMI KENTO

▸ cockwarming. seating himself inside your warm pussy while he's stuck doing all kinds of boring paperwork. he'll fuck you, he swears, you just gotta sit pretty on his lap for a little bit, okay?

▸face fucking. he loves taking out all of his stress on you. gripping your hair as he uses your mouth mercilessly, bullying his cock down the back of your tight throat.

▸blindfolding. silk ribbons in a variety of colors that he matches to the underwear you're modeling for him. only the best for his lover <3

▸ thigh riding. there's no better way to put him in the mood than pathetically grinding yourself against his thigh, using his body selfishly for your own pleasure.

▸ hair pulling. y'all know that one scene... he pulls at your hair exactly like that. fingers going white with how tight he's tugging at you, manipulating your position until you're face to face with his scowl.

▸ spanking. makes you count for every slap and if you miscount, he's starting all over again. pay better attention to him next time, yeah?

▸ semi-public. yes, he will bend you right over his desk, no he doesn't care there's a meeting going on next door. or better yet, against the window of the fourth floor, overlooking the busy street below it.

▸ phone sex. it really isn't any problem that he's across the country on a mission. even just the sound of your whines over the phone is enough to get him off.

. *. ⋆ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

▸ panty stealing. he would say he feels bad about it, but he doesn't. you looked so good in the lacey little things, he can't help but want to keep them for later. even has his own little drawer for them.

▸ masochism. the stinging pain of your nails running down his back is utterly euphoric. and don't get him started on how harshly you tug at his hair when he's eating you out- he can cum in his boxers just from that alone.

▸ breast play. massaging at the skin, feeling the plumpness under his fingertips. sucking at your nipples and leaving a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts. he's obsessed.

▸ edging. leaving you just on the brink of release over and over again, until tears are streaming down your face. he'll let you cum eventually, you just look so pretty this worked up for him.

▸ marking. oh my goddd do not get megumi started on this. he doesn't know why it gets him so worked up- seeing you covered in the hickeys and bite marks that he's left on you- but it does.

▸ cunnilingus. eats you out like a man starved, like he'll never eat you out again. pulling him away from your poor pussy is next to impossible if he's not yet done with his meal.

▸ mutual masturbation. sometimes you both just need to relaxation of release and nothing more. sitting across from each other on the bed, or maybe side by side, listening to the moans of the other as you both touch yourselves.

▸ dacryphilia. like adoptive father like adopted son. seeing your eyes brim with tears from how good he's fucking you drives him crazy.

. *. ⋆ YUJI ITADORI

▸ ass play. we all know he's an ass man i mean come on?! doggy style is his favorite position just because of it. seeing how the fat of your ass moves with every slap of his hips is fucking addicting.

▸ praise kink. tell him how good he's fucking you and how much of a good boy he is pleaseeee!!!!

▸ toys. he didn't realize how much he would love bringing toys into the bedroom until he sees how hard you can cum around him while he holds a vibrator to your clit.

▸ raw sex. he knows it's stupid, fucking you with no protection. you're pussy just feels so good, so warm, he needs to fuck you raw.

▸ face riding. please sit on his face, suffocate him, he doesn't care. it's his favorite position to eat you out.

▸ overstimulation. poor baby doesn't even mean to overstimulate you half of the time- he just has so much stamina, you understand that, right? and seeing you so flushed and fucked out under him has him so horny. just one more round, yeah? you can do that for him, right?

▸ dirty talk. yuji is a yapper and that doesn't stop when he's fucking you. the filth that comes out of his mouth has you wet just thinking about it.

▸ dry humping. the tension, the intimacy, the panting, the friction?? all of it, it's like a drug to him.

[steviebbboi]

Good For It

Pairing: Ari Levinson x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.1k~ (no idea how this happened) 🫣

Summary: Ari was deeply misunderstood by everyone except you. What happens when someone tries to hurt the one person he cares about the most?

Disclaimer: This is my submission for @stargazingfangirl18 writing challenge, "Siri's Birthday Bonenanza"~ Thank you to Siri for hosting this, and hoping that you all enjoy this as much I loved writing it :)

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't demureeee~~~~

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ Minors DNI; Mentions/threats of violence, mentions of drugging reader (not by Ari), mentions of sexual harassment (again, not by Ari), explicit language, explicit smut, oral sex (f. receiving), p in v, angst, fluff, mentions of trauma, PTSD-like symptoms, Lumberjack!Ari, Veteran!Ari.

Prompts: Ari Levinson x F!Reader feat. Bryce Langley (not involved with Reader at all) + "The moment you or babe realize you’re in love with the other" + "Scary!babe is in love and a simp for you" + "Playful trolling/banter"

Quote Prompts: “Why can’t you just let yourself be loved?!” + “Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?” + “You move an inch, and you’ll be sorry. + “Can you just…hold me, please?”

Trope Prompt: Scary, dangerous!babe who is only soft with you

Kink(s) Prompt: Size kink + Praise kink + Squirting + Manhandling +soft!dom (ish) + Possessive!babe + breeding (ish?)

Other kinks: mild choking, spanking, overstimulation (if I missed any TW, feel free to lmk)~

Rowdy laughter and the clinking of glasses came into earshot as you pushed the bar doors open. You greeted the bouncer as you usually did and gave a quick scan of the back of the bar. Once you found who you were looking for, you felt your lips quirk into a small smile as you headed toward the back.

Ari Levinson, the local town recluse with only four friends (including yourself and the bouncer-ish). He’s a retired military veteran and is known as “that weird, scary dude who lives alone up in the mountains.” To be fair, the town’s whispered descriptions of him were not entirely inaccurate.

You could feel the regular, daily stares coming in hot as you continued walking toward the back booths. Although you were used to it at this point, you could feel yourself becoming more tense as the whispers started to creep through.

A tired sigh escaped your lips as you passed by one woman in particular who seemed to always let out a muttered comment under her breath—all synonymous with criticism that you never took lightly.

“Poor girl doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’ll end up in the morgue someday.”

“He just has her wrapped around his finger, huh? Someone should say something.”

“You know he almost beat a guy to death a year ago. What is a sweet girl like her doing with a guy like him?”

“Nobody told her to leave the undesirables alone.”

Any and all comments surrounding Ari’s character felt crushing every time you heard them. In the beginning of your relationship with Ari, you used to cry yourself to sleep every night because some of the comments were so scathing. All these people were just judging you because you were with a person that you deeply cared about.

Ari would be there every night to soothe you (he didn’t care as much about what others said). He would wipe your tears by holding your face in his big hands and kiss you until you couldn’t remember what you were crying about in the first place.

See, there are things that people don’t know about Ari. They judged him based on his background and one incident at the mill. He was hulking over everyone at 6'5", his stature and demeanor a bit more closed off and quiet. When people tried to say hi to him, he would give them a small grunt and continue on his way. He wasn’t a small man by any means, emotionally or physically (of which, your size difference is something you both indulge in, in many ways).

The problem was that they only saw and perceived things from the surface. They didn’t see all of the qualities underneath that make him so desirable, wanted, and valuable to you. With Ari, you felt protected, safe, and secure in ways that you had never experienced before. You never felt disrespected by him in the slightest. People didn’t see that, even through his dark aimless stares or quiet mumbles and grumbles, he still cared and was incredibly kind.

One day, you were working furiously on your laptop as you sat on Ari’s couch. Your work was demanding, and more often than not, you would work your remote 9-to-5 job straight through without taking care of yourself. Ari only ever gazed at you with curiosity and never said anything about it. Although you could tell from his stare that he disapproved of your self-negligence. The next time you sat working, Ari placed some dinner on the coffee table in front of you. The smell of the hot, homemade food made your tummy rumble as you stopped typing after four hours of working nonstop to look up at him with surprise.

“Eat,” Ari said simply and reached out to stroke the exposed skin peeking out from underneath the blanket on top of you before heading back to the kitchen. You usually wouldn’t let anything get in the way of your work, but his act of care was so wholesome and precious that you stopped and ate the whole thing.

Ari came back once you were finished to sit down next to you under the blanket with a book. He made an effort to get comfortable by placing his large, calloused hand on your inner thigh underneath your now-shared afghan before getting back to his reading. You could only stare at him, astonished by how this beefy, quiet giant of a man managed to not only get you to pause your work but also make you eat (disrupting your chain of focus and habits was not an easy feat, just ask your ex-partners). He let out another deep grumble when you kissed his bearded cheek with a soft thank you as you put away your laptop and leaned into his shoulder to read with him.

It was then that you realized Ari, depicted as this scary, violent, tainted, isolated person, was deeply misunderstood.

It was also the moment that you realized you were deeply in love with him.

Coming out of your reverie, you let out the tension that had been carried in your chest as you saw your man start to turn as you finally approached the booth. Your soft smile turned into a genuine grin when your eyes met his. You greeted Sammy (his third friend) as you went to scoot next to Ari. You put an arm around him to give a gentle rub on his large back while giving him a quick kiss on his cheek. As usual, he gave you a quiet, deep mumble of acknowledgement but proceeded to put his muscular arm around you protectively, giving you the opportunity to place the hand that had been shoved to your side around his thick, jean-clad thigh.

“What are we talking about?” You engaged Sammy first, knowing that Ari would likely be more of an active listener, as he usually was.

Sammy and Ari were in service together, along with Rachel (the bartender and the fourth friend, completing the group). Ari was noticeably relaxed with them, as he was with you, but you had no idea how they got the man to talk. You heard stories of their time in active duty, but they never went beyond surface-level details. You knew Ari had done some dangerous work during his time in the military; he never really talked about it, but you could surmise that he was still recovering from it, especially since that incident a year ago.

“Oh, you know, same old, same old. Rachel threw beer on a guy who was trying to score free drinks by hitting on her,” Sammy said with a smirk.

You laughed freely. “Man, I wish I had been there to see it! Some newbie at the office messed something up, and who has to fix it? Me, of course.” You rolled your eyes and put a hand to your forehead to rub away the fatigue.

“Did you eat, baby?” Ari cut in quietly. You turned to meet his concerned gaze and gave him a soft smile with a rub to his knee. “Yes, honey. I was able to have my assistant run out to grab some grub. Don’t worry.”

He gave another affirmative grunt with a nod and shifted to hand you a beer that was hidden at the end of the table. You huffed out a quiet laugh before giving him one last squeeze on the knee before reaching for the drink gratefully. Of course, Ari had already gotten you a drink but only gave it to you after you gave your daily report. He was always looking after you.

“When are they going to gear up and give you that promotion?” Sammy asked, shaking his head.

You gave a despondent shake before sighing. “You know, they’re a small company. I think we’re understaffed as it is right now. That’s why these new hires keep making these small mistakes.”

“Aaaand that’s why they need to promote you to manager, to teach some sense into ‘em! Ari’s always sayin’ you’d be a great supervisor.” He replied with an encouraging smile.

Now you were the one letting out a small questioning mumble while looking down at your drink bashfully. You felt Ari stroke the back of your arm with a firm gentleness, and you knew it really meant, “Yes, you do deserve more.” 

This kind of touch was often a reminder for you to believe in yourself and that you deserved better things (a tough job for your ex-partners, you might add). Ari had seemingly broken a cycle for you, helping you genuinely care about yourself in a way you hadn’t before. (All the ways he protects you are just sickeningly cute, aren’t they?)

Bringing yourself back to the present, you gave Sammy a stronger “hm” in response and said, “I know. I mean, when will these bastards just wake up?”

Sammy gave a shout of laughter and a “hell yeah”  before giving you another supportive response. You turned to Ari briefly to give him another smile of appreciation, only to notice that he was already looking at you. But the glint in his eyes… you hadn’t seen that before. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered Sammy announcing he was going back to the bar for another drink.

The two of you were now alone, just observing each other. A shiver ran down your spine at his piercing gaze as you asked quietly, “Everything okay, honey?”

At your reserved tone, Ari gave you a subtle, tilted smile. “I love you,” he said simply.

Your breath hitched, and you felt your eyes widen at his surprise revelation. You knew that you loved Ari, maybe even before you realized it yourself. There were many ways the two of you showed your love and care for each other—from cooking food for each other to gentle caresses during more intimate moments. However, this was the first time either of you had ever said it out loud.

Now you were the one stumbling over your words, struggling to respond, swallowing thickly as you tried to say it back. It’s not that you felt you couldn’t, but the man had just revealed that he loved you, in a bar no less! The guy was usually full of grumbles, deep hums, and mumbles. You never would have expected him to reveal something so vulnerable and intimate in an environment like this. You figured your actions would be proof enough, and that was okay with you. You accepted that about Ari—you never expected him to actually say it.

At your floundering, Ari had a full-on smirk on his handsome face. He seemed to appreciate how the tables had turned. You stopped your mumbles once you saw his reaction to your shock and squinted your eyes in fake indignation. His smirk only grew wider, the glint you noticed earlier now turning into an affectionate mirth that you knew Ari reserved just for you.

“Damn him and his sexy, lumberjack hotness,” you thought to yourself. You and Ari both knew you loved it when he teased you like this. You pretended to be upset, but it was all part of how well the two of you bantered throughout your relationship.

Most of your relationship involved speaking in a language your friends couldn’t quite understand, which only played into the image of how polar opposites you two were. But you and Ari reveled in it, just like Ari was now. You were more embarrassed at being caught stumbling on your words, and felt the need to beat him in your little game. The man hadn’t even said anything in the past minute, and he was already winning. He knew how you felt about him; it was just fun for him to see you all flustered.

“HA– alright, Mr. Grumbles. I’m going to get us some more drinks. Did you want anything else?” you said begrudgingly while gathering your glasses to bring back to the bar.

“No, baby. Sammy said he was going to get us some, though.” Ari conceded his smirk (and victory). Speak of the devil, and he shall appear—Sammy came up behind you to slide back into the booth, but with only one drink in his hand. You and Ari stared at him and then looked back at the beer with questioning eyes.

Sammy got comfortable and noticed both of your stares only when he realized that nobody was talking. Glancing down at his own drink, then toward your empty glasses, and back to your amused stares again, he muttered abashedly, “You didn’t say I had to get you another drink too.”

You let out a small giggle and looked back at Ari again to repeat, “Did you want anything else, baby?”

Ari responded with the same amusement in his tone. “No, love.” He grinned back at you as he said the endearment, which only furthered your fake ire. You pouted your lips in playful anger and met his beguiled stare with your own before standing up from the booth.

As you gathered the empty glasses again, you saw Ari attempting to grab them from you as he also stood up from his seat.

“No– don’t worry, Ari. I’ve got it,” you reassured him, but he ignored you and responded only with a grunt. He proceeded to scoot out of the small booth, hunched over the table.

Letting the glasses go, you pressed down on Ari’s shoulders hard to shove him back into his seat. His eyes widened in surprise at the forceful touch as he sat back down, but you knew you hadn’t hurt him. If anything, he lurched back from you since he didn’t want to bump into you while attempting to get out.

“Goddammit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?” you scolded him in feigned anger. You grabbed the glasses quickly and scurried away before he could respond. You only heard him and Sammy laughing at your retreat before the chatter from the other end of the bar became more prominent as you approached.

Setting the two glasses down on an empty section of the bar top, you leaned over slightly to catch Rachel’s perceptive gaze. She nodded with a smile on her face as she made you two new drinks. Glancing around the rest of the bar with mild interest, you couldn’t help but reflect on Ari’s intimate reveal.

A smile spread onto your lips, and you let out a small laugh to yourself. You were in love with a man who communicated with short hums and grunts, and with only three words—he had unraveled you. You felt so happy in that moment to be with someone who could meet you where you were, for once.

At first, you were intimidated by the looming lumberjack, but as you got to know each other, you grew to understand that he didn’t need big, fancy words to connect with you. Ari was the kind of partner who was straightforward with you and never hid anything maliciously while still respecting the integrity of your relationship. You felt grateful to be a part of each other’s lives.

Floating mindlessly in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the man staring at you across the bar. You also didn’t notice him approaching until you heard him say, “Hey there, what are you smiling about, sweetheart?”

Glancing over, the giddiness you felt thinking about your relationship with Ari was now interrupted by feelings of annoyance and suspicion. “I’m good, thanks,” you responded dismissively, not even bothering to answer his question.

“Aw, c’mon—just wanna talk a bit. Hey, are you with anyone right now?” the guy persisted.

Looking at the intrusive person, you could tell he was a bit younger than you. His polo shirt was disheveled, and his demeanor seemed careless. If his side-swept hair wasn’t an indication of his immaturity, it was the way he reeked of alcohol and weed. A smug smile lifted on his face as he assumed you were checking him out, when in reality, you were trying to piece together how to shut this down and walk around him on your way back to the booth.

“Uh, I am. Just waiting for our drinks,” you answered shortly, hoping your dismissiveness would be enough to make him go away. Heckling men never seem to take the hint when you’re not interested, and it seems like telling them off only riles them up more.

“Well, if I were your friend, I certainly wouldn’t have let you come up here by yourself. There are some weirdos out here, y’know?” He leaned onto the bar and into you, his body too close for comfort. You leaned back and crossed your arms defensively.

“I’m sorry—let me? Listen, kid—you got one thing right: there are weirdos out here. Almost like some weirdos just don’t seem to get the hint when they’re harassing women who only want to be left alone by the bar.” You couldn’t hold in your snark as this misogynistic asshole seemed to only smile wider at your reactions.

“Right! That’s why you’re lucky I’m here, sweetheart. Considering that I’m being so helpful by giving you this piece of advice, I think that now makes us friends.” He laughed, ignoring your irritation.

“Everything okay here?” You looked up to find Rachel putting down the newly made beers while looking the stranger dead in the eyes. You could see him squirm a bit, and you stifled a giggle—you were always amused to see her put men in their place.

“It’s okay, Rach. I’m heading back to those two dummies, anyway.” You left some bills on the counter. Rachel gave you a look since she always insisted drinks were on the house for you, but you never really listened. She took the money anyway, gave the guy one last daggered look, and made a small dismissive sound before leaving to attend to other customers.

Ignoring Rachel’s reaction, he turned to you and said, “Well, where are these two dummies you speak of? Are they cute like you?” He looked over at the general crowd of women lingering behind you.

You cleared your throat at his blatant ignorance. “Actually, my two dummies are over there.” You pointed to the back where Sammy and Ari’s profiles could be briefly seen.

He followed your hand to see the two men sitting there and let out a surprised “ah.” He looked back at you after seeing the men but couldn’t help but do a double take once he recognized one of them.

“Wait, you’re that guy’s friend?” he asked incredulously, looking at you expectantly.

You gave him a warning look and made an affronted sound. “Careful. ‘Friends’ don’t talk to their friends like that. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” You gestured to take your drinks, which seemed to snap him out of his shock.

“Hey, hey—wait! Relax, relax. That just took me off guard, but… I mean, you do know what he did, right?” He gave you the same look others would give you, almost disgusted, as if he couldn’t believe a ‘girl like you’ would be with a ‘guy like him.’

Your eyes narrowed and you huffed an exasperated breath, preparing to retort, but were interrupted by a voice yelling, “Yo, Bryce, hurry up!” You looked to the end of the bar to see another young man in a polo (god, these entitled kids are a dime a dozen) looking over at you. They wore the same cocky, smug smiles, and you were immediately done with this interaction.

Letting out a scoff, you replied, “Well, Bryce, it’s been real. Now, please, leave me alone.” Not mincing words nor your mocking tone, you started to grab your drinks when you froze in place, frowning as you noticed one of your drinks had an abnormal fizz on top.

“Are you kidding me? Did he just…?” Your thoughts felt scattered as you realized that your drink had been spiked. Your frown persisted as you looked back at Bryce in disbelief. “Did you really just do that?”

Bryce looked nonchalant at your question and, almost innocently, responded, “What are you talking about, sweetheart?” He had a dopey look on his face, but he couldn’t even hide his rising grin at your growing outrage. You knew you weren’t overreacting and you knew what you saw in your drink.

“You just spiked my drink—what the fuck is wrong with you?!” You accused and turned to catch Rachel’s attention. A strong grip twisted your arm back to Bryce as he looked at you with something completely vile in his eyes. He leaned in close to whisper in your ear with venom as you leaned back and attempted to get his hand off you. “Stuck-up bitch. You know you would’ve been asking for it if you didn’t have your killer boyfriend to cover you.”

Feeling his hot breath in your ear made you panic even more, his unrelenting grip getting tighter by the second. You shouted while trying to push him off you, “Get the fuck off of me! LET GO!”

You flailed your limbs more in your attempts to make a scene. You heard a barstool crash to the ground loudly, and all of a sudden Bryce’s fingers were no longer around your arm. The only thing in your vision was a person’s vast back.

Ari.

Catching your breath from your panic, the sounds of the bar that had seemed to mute during your thrashing suddenly tuned back in. You registered pained groans and the utter silence, yet concerned murmurs scattered across the room. Looking over from behind Ari’s back, you saw Sammy putting a hand in between Ari and Bryce, who was now on the floor, clutching his nose with blood spilling out rapidly.

“You fucking prick! I’ll press charges!” Bryce shouted from the ground as his friends crowded around him, trying to get him up.

Rachel raised her voice to be heard amidst the chaos and said, “I saw what happened, asshole. I’d be happy to call the cops and let them know about you and your buddies’ attempts to sexually harass my customers.”

Bryce, now being held up by his friends, looked over at Rachel menacingly. Rachel didn’t back down and walked towards the phone on the wall. “Shall we?”

Bryce hissed in pain from his new injury and looked back to meet Ari’s stone-cold eyes. Sammy turned to face Bryce and his friends with a look of caution, almost ready to get into a fight if it came to that.

Bryce took a heavy gulp, attempting to stare Ari down with bravado. He then locked his jaw and scoffed, “Whatever, I’m out of here.”

The bouncer suddenly appeared behind you, making you startle slightly, and pushed the group toward the exit. As they got closer, you hid yourself behind Ari’s back and gripped his shirt tightly for comfort. You could feel Ari’s hand reach for your waist, and you assumed he could sense your shaking and wanted to offer you more protection and ease.

In your peripheral vision, you could see and feel Bryce’s eyes staring at you, almost as if he wanted to say one last thing. But Ari’s grip on your waist tightened as he turned to face Bryce directly, orienting you with him and blocking his gaze from you. Though you couldn’t see it, Ari looked deadly in that moment, removing any access Bryce had to your presence.

“If you ever come back in here, and if I ever see you near her again, I will hurt you,” Ari said quietly, but his warning reverberated across the large space. “And you know that I’m good for it.”

Bryce, still clutching his nose, averted his gaze and continued moving toward the exit.

As the group exited, people still looked over but gradually returned to their tables and muttered conversations. The jukebox came back on at a lower volume, and people eventually resumed their activities.

You were still clutching Ari’s back as you released a sigh of relief. You leaned into him, your forehead resting between his shoulders. The adrenaline had left you with residual energy, and it was noticeably hard for you to regulate your emotions. Ari heard you release one more exhale in an attempt to calm down before he turned to meet your tight grip with his strong hands.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, baby.” He released your hands with one last squeeze and cupped your face sweetly. He whispered more reassurances as he pulled your face close to his and leaned down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Sammy, we’re gonna get going.” Ari glanced at the teary-eyed look on your face and knew you couldn’t stay. He wouldn’t have expected you to, either—he was accustomed to chaotic and loud environments, able to regulate during scary situations. Ari knew this was exceptionally jarring for you, and he desperately wanted to protect you from any feelings of unsafety. His priority since you entered his life was to preserve your softness, and if his hard exterior could help do that, he would go to any length to ensure you felt secure with him.

“Of course, check in and get home safe.” You also turned to give Sammy and Rachel a soft smile and a quiet ‘thank you.’ If there was any effort to expend, it would be that.

They returned your smile with reminders to be safe while driving home, and Ari took your small hand in his to lead you to the exit. You both passed by the bouncer, who returned Ari’s thanks for earlier with an affirmative nod and also gave you a parting “feel better.” You muttered your appreciation and clutched Ari’s forearm with your other hand still in his. You felt that if you weren’t right by his side, if he weren’t touching you, the panic would rush back in.

On the car ride back to Ari’s place, you kept yourself as close to him as possible. The truck’s seats facilitated closeness; Ari wrapped his right arm around you protectively while driving with his left.

Ari appreciated that you felt safe with him. Unbeknownst to you, his own panic about losing you crept in whenever you weren’t by his side.

His arm wrapped around you tighter, and his caress provided comfort for him as well during the rest of the ride home.

Later that night, after Ari got out of the shower, you noticed cuts on his knuckles from his punch earlier.

“Ari, why didn’t you say anything earlier? Come here.” You scolded him as you led the giant of a man (a very half-naked, still wet giant of a man—okay, focus) to sit on the toilet seat.

“Baby, it’s fine—” Ari began to say, but you interrupted him, “Honey, let me do this—why can’t you just let yourself be loved?!” Ari let out a rare scoffed smile at ​​your dramatic flair before acknowledging you with his usual grunt. You returned his smile and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

Ari watched you as you ventured over to the bathroom counter to gather the first aid kit. You were already in your sleep clothes—simple camisole and shorts. Though he remained silent, you could feel his eyes roaming over your newly exposed skin. You glanced up at the wide mirror and caught him in the act as his gaze lingered a bit too long on your ass. You stifled a small laugh, and his eyes met yours unashamedly.

You turned to walk back over to him, and his eyes never left yours as you took his palm gently between your hands. As you cleaned the small wound, you could feel his gaze burning on your skin. You took your time patching him up, and with the last bandage, you brought his burly hand to your lips, planting a meaningful kiss on his knuckles. Continuing to brush your lips against the back of his hand, you left more kisses until you reached the underside of his wrist.

Ari’s gaze darkened with every peck of affection you left on his clean skin. As you raised his hand to rest it on your cheek, Ari’s other arm wrapped around the low of your waist, pulling you in closer. Deciding you weren’t close enough, you straddled his towel-clad waist. Enjoying the intimacy, you both savored the simplicity of feeling safe in each other’s embrace. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you softly caressed his wet strands of hair away from his face. Tucking your face into the crevice of his neck, you closed your eyes and hummed contentedly, feeling his large hands rub up and down your back. You felt so small enveloped in his arms.

“Look at me, baby,” Ari whispered softly. He laid a calloused hand on your cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb. His other arm remained wrapped around you to support you, and he said, “I know that we don’t talk about this often enough, but I want you to know that I would never hurt you. Ever.”

You gave Ari a confused look. “I know that, Ari. I trust you. I always feel safe with you.” His eyes were full of concern as you rushed to reassure him. Your own hand rested on his bearded cheek. “I know that what happened at the mill last year has lingered a bit.”

He turned his gaze downward until you cooed at him, making him look back at you. “Hey, I know you. I know that you were only doing what you thought was right. At that moment, it was about protecting Sammy. The guy was making threats against you both. It made sense that you went to defend yourself.”

Ari was quiet for a minute. You continued stroking his cheek to let him process. This was a vulnerable conversation for Ari that his usual grunts couldn’t explain.

He broke the silence by saying, “I lied to you.”

Your heart froze, and you felt even more confused. Your hand dropped back down to grip his bulky shoulder. “What do you mean?” you asked tentatively.

Ari met your curious gaze with an ashamed look. “He wasn’t making threats against Sammy… he was saying things about you. Us. How a woman like you shouldn’t be with someone like me—‘damaged goods.’”

Lines formed between your eyebrows as you tried to register what Ari was saying. Leaning into your silence, he continued, “Then he started saying that he would be a better fit for you. He talked about all the ways he would treat you better, and then he shoved me and… I just lost it.” Ari’s mouth twisted grimly, and his eyes held a weighted look. “I just… didn’t want to lose you.”

Swallowing thickly, you reflected on that time in your relationship when you heard about Ari being involved in an accident at the mill. It wasn’t until you saw him that you realized there had been no accident, and that Ari had put his co-worker in the hospital. Of course, you worried about the implications of his actions and what it would mean for the two of you. At a certain point, you did question your safety with Ari.

But you remembered meeting him at the station when the police let him go due to it being self-defense (and many of Ari’s co-workers, including Sammy, vouching for the incident). He had the same look that he had now—fear.

In that moment, despite what he had done, you knew there was something so strong and willed behind his reaction. He was so protective and gentle with you, and you believed him. You believed that that was the man that you were falling in love with. You just never would have guessed it came from the fear of losing you.

Realizing you had been quiet for a while as you processed your feelings and what you wanted to say, Ari didn’t move from his position. He licked his lips nervously, waiting for your response.

Releasing a slow breath, you cupped Ari’s face in your hands and looked him in the eye. “You protect, Ari, that’s just what you do.”

Ari exhaled in relief and felt a dark weight lift off of his shoulders, his stomach no longer churning, while putting his forehead to your chest. He moved his arms under your butt and lifted you slightly to do this but you embraced him openly. You stroked his hair again as he started kissing your exposed skin above your breast until he was laying a series of soft kisses up your neck. You both knew what his kisses really meant: “I’m sorry, I love you.”

You hummed out a soft moan as his lips found that spot under your ear that felt extra sensitive to his touch. Turning his face to meet your cheek, he tilted his head slightly so that he could finally reach your mouth. You allowed Ari to control the pace of the kiss and moaned when you felt his tongue softly caress yours. 

The tension in the air quickly thickened into something more primal and electric from Ari’s confession. There was something about this huge, strong man protecting only you that made you feel so worshiped and desired. These feelings start to overcome you and you move to sit on top of Ari’s towel-covered erection only to grind yourself down on him. Ari groaned sensually into the kiss at the feeling of delicious pressure sitting on his hard cock. Your mouths continue languidly meeting each other when you let out a squeak from Ari suddenly gripping your thighs tightly to carry you back into the bedroom. 

You released a squeal as Ari threw you on top of the bed before dropping his towel on the floor. Breathing heavier, you backed up on the bed to get a better look at his glorious sculpted figure and Ari only smirked at your hooded eyes gazing all over his body. Standing at the edge of the bed, Ari decided that you were too far away and he gripped your ankle to roughly tug you back towards him. Letting out another brief squeal and giggle, you quickly sought into his rhythm as he kneeled onto the bed. 

His bulking mass overshadowed you as he leaned forward to place more deceivingly gentle kisses upon the exposed skin of your stomach where your tank top rode up. Your stomach fluttered as you could feel his kisses getting wetter, and were leading down towards your cotton-clad pussy. You whined in anticipation as Ari gently tugged off your shorts to reveal your soaking core. 

Ari let out a deep groan at the sight of your pussy weeping for his touch. Using his hands to spread your legs open to make space for his massive stature, you gasped for air even though he has barely touched you. You stroke the hands holding you down and beg, “Ari, please. Please do something.” 

At your begging, Ari released a louder groan this time. “God, baby. Look at you just creaming for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet. You want me to take care of you, sweet girl?” 

He used his forearms to hold your already squirming legs down as he used his thumb to cut through a string of wet and reveal your thrumming pink clit. Not being able to resist his own yearning, he gave a firm lick up your cunt and released a deep groan at the first taste of you on his tongue. “Oh fuck, you taste so fucking sweet.” He groaned and went back into your cunt for more. 

You sobbed your pleasure at the feeling of his tongue caressing your wet folds, “Yes, please, Ari– please!” His tongue continued licking all over your pussy while he released his own small moans at the taste of you. He made sure to thrust his tongue into your soaked opening before licking his way back towards your now puffy clit. 

Your moans steadily increased in volume and small, short-bursts of whimpers fell out of your mouth as Ari devoured you. Feeling his lips suction at your clit, you mewl and feel his thick finger start to breach your entrance. Your head fell back on the bed, your mouth agape at the sheer pleasure you were receiving from your man. One hand tightly gripping the sheet next to you and the other wrapped in Ari’s hair as you kept him in place, your hips started to thrust back into his mouth and fingers. Not expecting for you to turn so wildly, Ari’s mouth left your clit unwillingly. Letting out a whine at the loss of warmth, you press down on the back of Ari’s head to get him back into position. 

But all of a sudden, you felt a sharp smack on your ass and you let out a yelp. Ari was still thrusting his finger, and inserting a second one, at a slower pace when he looked up at you. His lips and beard glistened with your wetness when he said darkly, “You move an inch, and you’ll be sorry. Do you understand me, baby?”

You could only respond with a soft whimper before letting out another cry as he slapped your ass again. “I said, do you understand me?” 

“Yes, Ari, I understand.” You responded with a glazed look in your eye at the combination of pain from his smacks and pleasure from his domineering words. 

“There’s my sweet girl, so good for me.” Ari said before he kissed his way back to your sopping cunt, his fingers thrusting faster now as his mouth created a suction on your clit again. Releasing out a louder cry at the transition, you could feel Ari’s fingers start to push deeper and curve inside of you to find your g-spot. You let out a sharp gasp once you felt him start to stroke that spongy spot over and over again while his tongue started to softly create a rhythmic pattern on your throbbing bud. 

The other thing about your relationship with Ari is that he was the most vocal when you were fucking. He always let you know how you felt around him and freely praised you as you gave each other the most visceral and intense experience. Anticipating more from him, your body rolled with his fingers to get him even deeper inside of you.

Only squeaking out sounds now, your high-pitched tones of pleasure were music to Ari’s ears. Your wet starting to squelch around his fingers and spurt out of you, Ari knew you were almost there. His fingers thrusted faster into you and curved in deeper with each thrust. He groaned, “Hmm, yeah baby? Is this the spot right here?”

You couldn’t conjure up a response as you were only experiencing the immense pleasure that he was giving to you and almost animalistic groans started leaving your throat. Ari looked up to see your head thrown back on the bed and your upper body contorting, your tanktop having ridden up and was now showing your beautiful perky, round breasts. Nipples peaked in heightened pleasure. Witnessing you like this was a privilege for Ari and he never thought you looked more beautiful than when you were writhing for him in the bedroom. 

A deep desire to witness more of you, Ari increased his efforts by pushing down on your tummy just above your mount. “Yeah, that’s the spot. Be a good girl for me, and let me have it. Let go for me.” He breathes against your slit while giving you one last intentional suck and rapid licking at your clit. 

Inhaling sharply, his words were your undoing as you felt that tight knot inside of you tear in ecstasy. Your head tossed back in euphoria as you cum hard, your pussy clenched around his fingers. Though, Ari didn’t stop thrusting his fingers deep inside of you. Whispering good girl and so sweet against your thrumming folds as he continued to coach you through your release. 

You let out a satiated whimper at experiencing your orgasm but Ari wasn’t stopping. If anything, his fingers curved into your g-spot faster and his tongue licked harder at your humming, swollen clit. You did thrash at the overstimulation. Your disobedience resulted in Ari slapping your ass once more. Even though it was served as a punishment, it seemed to only end up heightening your yearning for a second release. Noticing that your juices were spurting out excessively now, Ari kept slapping your ass as your pussy gripped tighter onto his large fingers. 

Letting out a myriad of whimpers and desperate moans, you sobbed out, “Ari please, please…I can’t do it, please!”

“Yes, you can baby, you can. Don’t you want to be good for me?”

You couldn’t answer him other than your random babblings– you couldn’t even think as you felt so consumed by the pleasure that he was giving you. You felt like you were being consumed by him and adored at the same time. 

A cry left your lips as he slapped your ass harder. “I asked you a question, are you my good girl?”

“Yes, yes, please, let me cum, please!” You sobbed out. 

Ari grunted deeply, “Your pussy is begging for it– you hear that?” He quieted only for the sounds of your own wetness slopping out of you to fill the space. “Mmm, see, I know you can do it, just one more, love.” Ari went back to suckling on your clit while he rubbed and grabbed at your now pink-colored flesh. 

Hearing him use this endearment again as his lips never left your body made your eyes roll up and you inadvertently held your breath as you let go for the second time. You register Ari’s moans and praise against your clit as you squirt your cum into his awaiting mouth. 

All you could let out were quiet mumbles of satisfaction as Ari’s fingers slowed. Your body was still jerking as it carried out aftershocks of your release, and you let out another sharp breath as Ari left one last kiss on your velvety folds. 

You were attempting to catch your breath as Ari kissed his way up your body, spending some time on your nipples by taking one in his mouth while his hand caressed your other breast. Ari brought up his fingers that were just inside of you to stroke your nipple and groaned as you glistened with your own cum. Leaning down, he took your nipple in his mouth again to suck it clean. You moaned softly and arched your back to give him more access as your hands stroked affectionately through his hair.  

Working his way back towards your bite-ridden lips, Ari slanted his wet mouth over yours as you taste yourself on his tongue. The both of you moaned as you continued making out leisurely. Ari pulled back to lick your lips sensually before dipping into your open mouth one more time for his tongue to meet yours in a passionate, sloppy dance.

Ari stroked your hair away from your face. “You ready for my cock, baby?” 

You whined and nodded as he leaned down to give you another wet kiss. You feel him reaching for his cock, hard and resting on your clit heavily. You mewled at him again as he slapped your clit with the wide mushroom head of his cock and he pushed in slowly. 

Groaning together at the feel of his thick cock bottoming in you, Ari lets out a strained moan. “Fuuuck baby, your pretty pussy is just sucking me in. Agh, so tight.” 

He withdrew until he was almost out of you before thrusting back into you deeply. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open as you could feel the veins on his girthy cock graze your inner walls. 

Ari leaned his head back in ecstasy at the feel of you clenching around him. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned out your name, “Yes, take it, baby. Take my fat cock.” 

You felt like you could barely breathe as his thrusts became faster and harder. He was sinking in so deep and you were gasping for air at all of the sensations your body was experiencing. Besides your mutual groans and moans, the sounds of your union could be heard as you only became wetter at the stimulation. 

“I’m so full, so full…so big, Ari.” You mumbled out, your eyes crossed in ecstasy. Ari let out a condescending laugh, “Aww, look at you. Can’t even speak, can you? Just continue taking my cock, honey, you’re so good at it.” 

Ari leaned up and thrust out of you, despite your desperate whining, only to turn you on your stomach. You feel him kneel outside of your thighs that were clenched together, and only had time to hold onto the pillow in front of you as he thrust back in. You gasped out a high pitched moan and small, repeated sounds of pleasure came out of your mouth as you felt his long shaft pit up against your g-spot with every thrust. 

“There she is, yesss. You’re so fucking tight when I take you like this, baby. Your pussy is gripping me like a vice, goddamn.” Ari groaned louder as your warmth enveloped him. Tension started brewing again deep inside your belly as he thrust faster into you. 

Leaning down, his chest was damp and his hair grazed your smooth skin as it met your back. He lifted you slightly to wrap his right hand around your neck and squeezed. He whispered harshly in your ear, “Don’t ever forget that you’re mine. This pussy is mine, your body. I’ll always protect you, you hear me, love?”

Gripping onto the pillow in front of you fiercely, you couldn’t contain your moans that were now resonating in the room. His possessiveness, his fingers gripping your throat so protectively, and the passion in his words made you feel so hot, you felt that coil in your belly about to snap. The sensation pulling at that area inside of you that felt so full and relieving when released. “Ari, yes, I’m yours! You’re gonna make me cum again!” 

“Yeah, I am, love. Soak my cock, make a mess with my pussy.” He released the grip on your throat to lean back up and take your hips in his hands for full control. His thrusts were consistently hard and deep. It twisted that coil inside of you so delightfully that you finally snapped and cried out your orgasm. 

Ari’s thrusts became sloppier as your juices squirted around his cock. He bellowed out a deep and low groan from his strained throat and followed you as you rode out your orgasm against him. You moan at the feeling of his dick throbbing inside of you and feeling him cum so deep in your pussy made you feel like you were being claimed. His dick was still buried deep inside as you gyrated against him. At the overstimulation, Ari thrust out of you with a sharp hiss and a mixture of your cum with his started to spurt out of you. 

“Fuck, so pretty, baby. Here, let me help you.” He breathed out heavily while his hand left your hip to use his finger to push your combined cum back into your quivering pussy. You moaned out at the sensation of his thick finger thrusting his warm spend further into you and mewled in content. 

Ari kneaded and squeezed your ass one last time before attempting to get off the bed to get a towel to clean you up but you clutched his hand before he could fully leave and pleaded, “Wait baby, stay. Can you just…hold me, please?”

He picked up the hand that you were holding to kiss the back of yours softly and collapsed on the bed next to you as you leaned into his outstretched arms. Cuddling him as your head rested over his chest, you felt him graze his fingers soothingly on your arm. You both were satiated in your passionate release, and after the day that you had, you both were starting to feel the effects of it. 

Embracing you in his arms, the warmth of your body and the softness of your skin felt like heaven against him. Before his sleepy eyes shut completely, you gave him a gentle tap above his heart to get his attention one last time. He peered down at you and gave you a relaxed grin. With his familiar grunt, his eyes questioned your touch. 

You gazed into his blue eyes that were filled with such affection, the same glint that you saw earlier at the bar. A familiar burning in your eyes started to come on at his stare, but you blinked them away to smile back fondly at him. 

“I love you too, Ari.” 

A/N: Welp! We made it -- I'm hoping ya'll enjoyed Ari and reader on this one. Something about Lumberjack!Ari being protective and only having eyes for you makes me feral and that can be the only explanation as to why this is so long lol. I would love to know what ya'll thought! Speak soon, lads~

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[ellecdc]

hi lovie !

I ADORE your writing and get so excited everytime you post 😭

I wanted to ask if you’re okay with writing a poly!marauders x reader fic where r is an overthinker and over analyzes small things. It brings r to think the boys are mad at reader so r begins to close off— happy ending w/ healthy communication, just them reassuring r

🤍you can absolutely ignore this!!

thank you baby! I'm so glad to have you here with me 😭 thanks for your request 🫶

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: insecurities, overthinking, belief of conflict, eventual healthy communication skills, men behaving rationally (that's how you know it's fiction) jkjkjkjkjk 👀

You knew you were overthinking; you could actually hear yourself spiraling as you chewed aggressively on your cuticles. You ran through every single interaction you and the boys had throughout the past few days and couldn’t help but come to the same conclusion every time.

They were mad at you.

And even saying it aloud made you feel silly because, really, what could you have possibly done that would have managed to upset all three of them without knowing about it?

There had been a few disagreements between the four of you since the beginning of the relationship; more specifically since you had joined the relationship. 

The boys, it seemed, went through most of their more volatile fights prior to you meeting them. 

But that didn’t mean there weren’t arguments. There were always differences of opinions, some hurt feelings, and learning everyone’s sensitivities and love languages etc. didn’t happen overnight; it took time.

One thing you were particularly thankful for was that you had yet to ever feel like the boys were ‘ganging up’ on you. Your argument always stayed between you and the participant of the conversation and everyone else opted to stay out of it unless they felt they could provide some helpful insight. 

But for all of them to be mad at you without some big blow up happening? You couldn't imagine what would have caused it.

It wouldn’t have been anything you said or done to Sirius, as he was a very head strong person who preferred to face things upfront and head on. If you had done something wrong to Sirius, you would have heard about it. 

James was a wild card since he usually wore his feelings on his sleeve, but he also had a tendency to paint a smile on his face and smile through the pain in order to keep the peace. 

Remus was often stoic and the voice of reason, but you also knew he could be incredibly sensitive.

Oh god... had you done something to upset Remus? You must have...it’s the only rational explanation. He’d likely be telling Sirius not to say anything to you, and since Sirius struggled in biting his tongue, it would make sense that he opt for the “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” route.

And though James did tend to smile through the pain in order to keep the peace, he was also fiercely protective of his people – particularly when those people don’t seem inclined to stand up for themselves.

Oh god. Is this why they asked you to come over tonight? They wanted to talk to you...no, they wanted to break up with you. 

By the time James opened the door, you had forgotten you even knocked. He was all bright smiles until he took in your form – he was disappointed to see you. 

“Hello, honey. Come on in.” He said, though his words were stilted, sounding oddly scripted and rehearsed. 

“Hey sweets!” Sirius called from somewhere in their flat, “have you eaten yet?”

“Yeah.” You called back, having to clear your throat when your voice came out gravelly. You could feel James’ eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

“Moony’s running late from work, but he’ll be home soon.” James announced as he ushered you into the living room.

You scanned your surroundings, cataloguing everything like it might be your last time in here.

You found signs of Remus’ love of trinkets and the oddities everywhere you looked, as well as signs of James and Sirius feeding into that by bringing him home things they’ve found as well. There’s a small pewter fox you bought on your trip to the coast sitting on one of the shelves of his bookcase.

Picture frames lined the walls; evidence of Sirius’ love for photography, his camera, and his favourite people.

And the god-awful pillow James found at an estate sale and insisted it have a place on the couch. It was ugly, it was lumpy, it didn’t match with anything else in the space, but it was James’ and he loved it.

Sirius came bounding into the room and rubbed at James’ shoulder affectionately, pecking a quick kiss to the crown of your head in hello before breezing by to head to the kitchen.

“He just got a home a few moments ago, he’s gonna heat up some leftovers for him and for Remus when he gets home.” James explained.

“Do you want any, doll?” Sirius called.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you!” You tried your best to sound upbeat while a horrid feeling settled in your stomach.

James seemed to feel just as awkward as you did; keeping his eyes dutifully on you whilst trying to appear that he wasn’t. His leg bounced anxiously underneath him as he leaned onto the arm of the grandfather chair he sat in – across the room from you.

It may as well have been an ocean worth of distance with the way it left you feeling.

Sirius returned to the living room a few moments later and made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch from you, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table after placing a glass of water directly on the coffee table. You wanted to chide him, knowing Remus would have him by the bollocks if he saw, but you didn’t know if it was your place anymore.

Sirius asked you how your day at work was and you offered him a vague “oh it was alright. Long. How about yours?” which started him on a long tangent about some of his more colourful customers today and how tiresome he found people in general. He and James shared some quips and anecdotes about worst moments in their various retail experiences, and you thought about how much you were going to miss this.

“Okay, what is going on?” Sirius snapped abruptly, causing your head to shoot up so quickly that you heard it crack.

“Huh?” You asked sheepishly.

Sirius’ brows furrowed as he stole a glance at James before turning back to you. “You’re being weird...what’s going on with you?”

But you didn’t get a chance to answer when the sound of the front door alerted everyone to Remus’ arrival. You hated that you visibly tensed at the sound of him moving down the hall.

“Hey bubs. Is she here?” You heard him ask James, since you and Sirius couldn’t yet see him nor he you from his position in the hall way.

You felt your face scrunch up miserably and quickly brought your hands up to shield your face, choking out a silent sob.

“Yeah.” James responded, though his voice was but a whisper as Sirius added a “whoa” at the same time. 

“What did you guys do?” Remus cooed and made his way towards you having spotted your distress.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered miserably, both for whatever you’d done to cause this conflict between the four of you and also for your embarrassing display of emotions.

“What are you sorry for, dovey?” Remus asked softly as he knelt in front of you, gently taking your wrists and coaxing them away from your face. 

“For upsetting you all.”

Remus’ brows furrowed beyond their worried state and into a more confused state as he turned to look at the other two boys in bemusement. 

“Well, I don’t think any of us are happy that you’re so upset, love, but we’re not upset. You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed.

“I don’t think that’s what this is.” James input from his place across the room.

“I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure why you’re mad at me, but I’d like to talk about it with you and I promise not to do it again.” You cried, sounding disturbingly and embarrassingly close to begging.

“Mad at you? Is that why you’ve been such a weirdo tonight? You thought we were mad at you?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Don’t call her a weirdo, Pads!” James chided, standing from his chair. 

“Why’d you think everyone was mad at you, dove?” Remus asked, ignoring the squawking of his boyfriends behind him as he forced you to hold eye contact with him.

“I... I don’t know, I guess things just felt kind of off this week and then...I don’t know.” You admitted dumbly. “And then I got here and, it just felt weird.”

“I’m sorry, angel.” James apologized, suddenly beside you having taken to sitting directly on top of (a very petulant) Sirius. “You seemed distressed and... I got nervous. Usually, Rem is the better one at handling these things, I wanted to wait until he got here to broach the subject. Sirius, though, has the tact of a bull.”

“So, you were just going to let all of us sit here awkwardly until Remus got here to save the day, huh? Not on my fucking watch.” Sirius groaned as he positioned himself to kick James not only off of him, but off the couch completely. This caused Sirius’ glass of water to topple off the coffee table and onto the rug below it.

“Nice going, Prongs,” Sirius spat victoriously from his place on the couch, “look at the mess you’ve made.”

“It wasn’t even my cup!” James defended.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wasn’t on a fuckin' coaster, Sirius.” Remus reproached darkly, tossing the dark-haired boy a glare over his shoulder.

Sirius just smirked and then winked at you. “There you go, dollface, now everyone’s mad at me instead.”

“Awe, Pads!” James cooed from the ground before launching himself back onto Sirius. “Look at you, taking the heat off our pretty girl.”

Remus shook his head in exhaustion, but you could see a fond smile ghosting his lips from his place before you.

“Trust me, dove. You’re the least of our problems.”

You chuckled wetly and wiped the tears (and more embarrassingly, the snot) from your face. “I’m sorry. I feel rather silly now.”

Sirius, having given up on his instance to be the little spoon between he and James, looked around James’ broad frame in his lap to face you. “How about this; if we’re ever upset with you, we promise to tell you. If we haven’t said anything; it’s safe to assume we’re not mad. Okay?”

You nodded in agreement.

“And...” James continued. “Next time you find yourself feeling like this, maybe you can tell us, too?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yes, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Remus kissed the backs of both of your hands and stood from his knelt position in front of you.

“No more sorry’s, dove. We’re all good.”

James stood from Sirius’ lap to place a warm kiss to the space between your cheek and ear and whispered another apology for your being upset.

“Hey, Moons?” Sirius called.

“Yeah?”

“Are you heading to the kitchen?” He called with the sort of smirk that caused you and James to exchange a suspicious look.

“Yeah.”

“Can you grab me a glass of water, please?”

“Fuckin’ hell Sirius get off your arse. And use a sodding coaster.” Remus bellowed from the bedroom.

“See? You’re the least of our problems.” James repeated, stamping another kiss to your cheek. 

[packsvlog]

᭡ ★ ׁ ׅ SUCH A TEASER! ⠀ׂ⠀⠀⠀ .⠀⠀─┈

. ֺ﹢ synopsis: ex-husband!nanami that filled for divorce under the idea he could die at any moment, and didn’t wanted you to suffer. four months later, after his injuries from shibuya, he is forced to retire, now the only thing he wants is having you back. before anything, you decide to get your little revenge on him.

. ֺ﹢ content: SMUT ╱ angst! and crack! ╱nanami is a bit of an asshole ╱ stimulation ╱ oral (fem!receiving) ╱ too much swearing ╱ no protection ╱ teasing ╱ face sitting ╱ mating press ╱ handcuff (male) ╱ good ending ╱ after shibuya ╱ burned!nanami ╱ english is not my first language.

. ֺ﹢ a. note: @emilyywhyy. another nanami smut, i’m feeling degenerate and happy. this one made me giggle and curl my toes, i want to be his little wife so bad! divider.

. ֺ﹢ wc: 6.k oopsie.

The brown pointy shoes of Nanami kept knocking on the wood floor repeatedly, mimicking the rhythm of his expensive watch — a gift you gave him on your first year together. It was supposed to be placed in the box of things to return to you, but Kento could only ever start to fill said box if his heart was put in there as well.

Nanami knew he was a fucked up man for many reasons. Firstly, he had given himself the nickname “Time-Bomb”, as in meant to explode — die — and have his remains hitting everyone in proximity. And secondly, despite all of that and his need to avoid hurting others with his eminent death, he still fell for you and build this relationship, the one he also broke up four months ago.

The blonde was also fucked in the head, anyone would tell him. Divorces are the aftermath of lack of love and trust, or uncountable fights, and yet, none of that applied to his two years long marriage to you. It was all perfect, balanced, the respect and affection you had for each-other was out of this world.

Nevertheless, his fears spoke loud, and made him act on autopilot.

You noticed how different he started to act when a boy, who you would encounter multiple times, had eaten a finger. You weren’t a sorcerer, had absolutely no idea what any of this meant, but the weight of the situation was noticed on your husband’s shoulders and yours, as well. The hours started to count down, and when it hit zero, life turned around.

Kento presented the divorce papers to you with a letter, wet eyes and as many “I’m sorry” the man could say before he turned around and left your shared home.

For someone who always presented themselves as smart and calculated, Nanami acted on impulse, and the gods seem to be punishing him even further now — inside this cubicle of an office, toasted coffee being gulped by his dry throat, he keeps burning himself after every sip, on purpose.

“Can you repeat that, again, please?” Kento puts the now empty mug on the wooden table, his green glasses are resting against the ceramic plate and he grabs it, staring at it to avoid looking at the male in front of him.

“Nanami.” Yaga sighed, hands scratching his beard. “You are no longer needed in this fucked up world. Look at your burns, you sacrificed enough! Now go home to your wife and retire in that country you always talk about — Thailand, isn’t it?”

“Malaysia.” The blonde corrects, before adjusting the sunglasses on his face.

“What’s the problem?” Yaga asks, although he doesn’t seem really into whatever it’s going on. “Problems in paradise?”

“Something like that.” Kento shifts on the chair, opening more of his legs, and letting his arms rest on it. “I fucked up with her. I thought something would happen, so I gave her the divorce papers and moved back to that old apartment.”

“You always fuck up when you think too much.” The older man sighs, piercing gaze hurting Nanami. “Let me guess, boy, you thought that death was coming and decided to spare her the pain?” At Kento’s nod, Yaga laughed with disdain. “She would still be in pain with your loss even if she hated you, but I doubt she does. Have she signed it?”

“No, we haven’t.” Nanami gets up from the leather seat and walked towards the only window in the room, lighting trespassing and reaching his wet face. “At any moment I fear the papers will come with her handwrite in it.”

“How long has it been?”

“Four months, it feels like years, though.” Kento looks over his shoulder.

“I bet it fucking does.” Yaga comes closer, strong hands dipping Nanami’s shoulder. “If she didn’t sign it yet, maybe there is a chance. Unfortunately, you will have to crawl on dirt and kiss the floor she walks to get her back.”

It’s a thought Kento avoided to have, he felt selfish to put you away and try to come back into your life, after all the pain. Like breaking a vase and messily fixing it with hot glue, he could burn the two of you again. Although, if Yaga was right, if there was a possibility you might be waiting for him, he should grab it. Right? It felt like all the types of right and wrong.

“I have to go.” Nanami walks towards the door, waving a quick goodbye.

“If you fuck up again, Kento, she’ll burn you herself.”

Nanami’s first stop was to a flower shop, and with the help of an old lady, he made the bouquet with clear intentions — violets for faithfulness, myrtle for marriage and red roses for love. A letter would accompany it, explaining the meaning with his own words.

❛❛ My darling,

if you find it in your interests to listen to this fool man, i will use your time with caution and care to explain of my wrongdoings with us and our marriage. it was never a question of lack of love, for even separated, it has always been growing for you and you only. our union is still sacred in my heart, and will always be. please, darling, reach to me if you so wish to know of the truth and let me beg for forgiveness. i’ll do anything.

with love, your Kento. ❜❜

And after the paying and a gentle tip, Nanami left the flower shop with a less heavy breathing, but an even more heavier heart.

Reaching his old apartment, one he had bought with his first salary as a sorcerer, he instantly missed the warm you had always brought whenever he stepped through the door and was engulfed in a hug, or had a spoon is his mouth with the dinner you were preparing. The cold lights of the living room and his small sofa would have to do for now, the sun was setting down and you were nowhere near the windows telling him how pretty orange and pink mix in the sunset, and Nanami would say they blend better reflected in your face.

Kento missed it so much. Your doll eyes shining bright staring up at him, the moonstruck smile in your wet lips, begging for him to kiss you. Fuck, your lips! Always the perfect match to his. Nanami also missed the feeling of them wrapped around his cock, how deep you could go and the thickness did not scared you. A single minute of this image in his head, and soon his scarred hand would be touching himself over his pants.

Like many nights before, he did the stupid routine of bringing his dick out, trying to massage it up and down, pressing when feeling like it. Nanami closed his eyes, throwing his head back and moaning quietly your name. Easily, he was too close, but as divine punishment, he never came. The pleasure would go away as quickly as it approached, making him grow desperate.

Four months without your presence, your mouth and your pussy. He knew he wouldn’t be able to last long, and in a desperate thought he wished he had burned more, maybe for his precautions of life to had been right.

What was he doing? Thinking of death, when you’re still out there, yet to receive his flowers, yet to reach him. Nanami grumbled and sweared as he got up and went to take a cold shower.

On the other side of the town, you had come home from work with an expensive looking bouquet in your arms. It smelled divine and putrid at the same time — of course, this came from your psychological warfare after reading the letter.

How could he do this? And how could he do this only now?

You wanted to cry and throw the flowers on your fireplace, and at the same time you had the urge to keep all the petals alive for in a way, a part of him would always be near you. The divorce papers greeted you like a sad lover every time you came home, it had not yet been removed from the place Kento placed it.

It was empty of your name as much as it was of his. Let me be a fool, you told it silently, and believe he still wants me.

You had only an imagination about the reason for your fairytale life to be brought down with reality. Not allowing yourself to drown in a pity party of believing he had cheated or fell out of love, but gods does it not make it a bit better? To think he left because he should, and not because he felt like he would die. You wanted Nanami alive and well with the same intensity you wanted him by your side.

Unfortunately, you have never been selfish, had you tried and clawed his torso, maybe he would have stayed. Instead, you allowed your husband to leave and drank two bottles of wine with vanilla ice cream.

You felt pathetic while opening a new bottle, and allowing your tears to smear your makeup while eyeing the flowers. Nanami had always been so thoughtful, anything he grants you was drowned in love. Still, he left you. Still, you miss him so much you could have him back right now, pretending these months never happened. With a drowsy hiccup and wobbling legs, you grab your phone and call him.

And he doesn’t pick up.

You sober up instantly, throwing the phone on the couch and raising your hands to your lips. Now you know you’re pathetic, and your drunk self needs a shower.

When you return to your living room with puffy eyes and a red silk pajama, you try to trick yourself into not staring at your phone. It takes you three more sips of the same wine you opened earlier, for your patience to run thin and unlock the cellphone.

There is a message.

Y/n, not love or darling. Maybe Kento is holding himself back, maybe he does not view you as that anymore. Maybe he is still stuck in this routine of fucking up everything, and although your face has a scowl in it, you answer cordially.

You slap your face hoping to sober up, but it does nothing but sting your cheeks. You moan in pain before letting the phone slip out of your grasp and walk to your room, leaving everything behind to try to sleep. You won’t take water, much less any medicine, you want to punish yourself for this desperation that comes whenever his name is mentioned.

It’s like loosing sight of what you should do and what you want to do. You should move on and find someone that won’t push you away, but you need your husband’s arms to cradle you to sleep. And, also, his secret weapon to deal with any insomnia and terrible thoughts — the dick. The perfect one, filling you up instantly, has you reciting your wedding vows in your head every time he makes you see stars. Your hands can’t do the same, not even the bright green toy your friend has presented you after dealing with a little crises of yours.

Nonetheless, you still reach down to your panties and try to play with your clit like your (ex) husband used to do. You never were capable of copying him, your pussy misses his long thick fingers and his cold tongue movements. You feel like crying all over again.

Is with your hand inside yourself that you fall sleep, much like Nanami in his own place. Both sad and with this pent up energy that could light Japan by itself.

The next morning, you wake up with enough pain to believe your head had grow two times it’s own size, and with fogged memories of last night, you halt your movements while smelling the flowers. In the limbo of dreams and reality, you had forgotten these flowers aren’t the usual ones your partner would greet you with, and instead are the desperation of Nanami to fix his mess.

You want to burn it again, but you decide against it and grabs your phone on the floor, eyes avoiding the texts of last night, you wonder if 9am is a good hour to call your ex husband and asks him about the impedimental fall of your marriage. Sighing desperate, you call him.

“Hello.” Nanami’s voice is still the same hoarse and low tone that has you closing your legs on your white couch.

“Hi, Kento.” You try to put strength in your voice, but it barely could be called a whisper. You cough awkward. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Nothing to worry about, Y/n.” No, don’t call me that, you thought. “Are you better now? Feeling any pain or discomfort?”

“I am…” you admit. “…but it’s not from the hangover.”

There is silence on the other line.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Besides sincerity, there is a fragility in Nanami’s voice, and at that you almost cry. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You mean the flowers or the divorce?” Your voice is starting to rise.

“Both, I don’t know.” Is easy to picture Nanami in his suit, head hanging low and hands over his eyes. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Is the— Is there any way for me to fix this?” Desperation is added to the equation of emotions Nanami is revealing.

“I don’t know, Kento. I don’t want to be hurt again.”

“I won’t, I promise. I can guarantee to you, just let me explain.” You both are kept silent, only both breathings is heard. “Let me take you out today, a secluded restaurant where we can talk properly. If you think I don’t deserve you after that, I’ll respect your wishes, I’ll keep myself away. Please, just don’t let us regret losing this chance.”

Your hold on the cellphone grow tighter as you thought of Nanami’s words. The moment you snickered quietly you knew you deserved the truth of it all, even if partly you had an idea, hearing from the male was in your right. Having him trembling in your presence, begging for forgiveness, being pathetic was awakening new feelings in you.

“Pick me up at seven. And wear your cheetah tie.” Before Nanami can say anything, you hung up satisfied.

As always, Kento follow your orders, and when you open the door to your apartment later that day, he presents himself with the tie you required and another bouquet decorating his hands, the ring on his finger drying your throat right away. Nanami has a nervous smile when he lowers the flowers, showing you the scars you have only heard about from Shoko. Half of his face and body is covered with the pinkish tissue, and yet, he keeps being the most beautiful man in the world. You don’t tell him that, not so soon.

Grabbing the flowers, you turn around in place, showcasing your open back dress and a red pantie.

“Can you zip this up?” You ask, hearing Nanami’s groan before feeling his hot hands on your hips, he moves them slowly towards your ass before zipping the silk up to your waist. “All good there?”

“Yes.” Nanami answers with a tender grip again on your hips.

“Then why won’t you remove your hand?” You stare at him over your shoulder, red lips shinning with your saliva when you wet them, all under his hawk like gaze.

Before Nanami answers, you walk swaying your waist and clicking your expensive shoes on the wooden floor, putting the flowers on the vase and avoiding eyeing your ex husband and his completely hot self.

“I made the reservations for the Palpatine, you still enjoy their food, right?” He asks from somewhere behind you.

“We’ve been separated for four months, Kento, I didn’t change that much.” There is humor in your voice, for the same quantity that there is acid. You finish adding water to the vase and put it besides the other flowers the man has got you.

“It feels like years.” He comes by your side, smelling the sweet floral air impregnating your apartment. His eyes keep shifting between you and the colorful bouquets, until they fall on the unsigned divorce papers you forgot to hide.

“I bet it does.” You want to bite his head off when his long fingers (that you miss) moves closer to the paper, as if inspecting if it’s real. “Don’t worry, if you need, I’ll sign them when you drop me off later.”

“I thought I made clear I want for us to fix this.” Kento has a concerned look on his face.

“For how long? Until another big, dangerous mission? And the wheels will spin again, and you will tell me how cruel you are for staying with me?” Your don’t punch him, but you feel like you are close to, when your pointy finger starts hammering on his chest. “Kento, please, I can’t deal with the pain of having you just to lose again, it’s too much.”

“I promise you this will never happen again.” He says, his large hands holding yours to his chest, the rapid beating of his heart under your palms. “There will be no more pain, no more leaving.”

“I don’t want promises, I need actions. I need prove.” You roll your eyes and move away, wondering if all of this was a stupid idea. He follows you, and you believe it is.

“I’m not a sorcerer anymore.” Your back is to his chest, so you can sense his unhinged breathing that matches yours. Slowly, you turn to his scarred and beautiful face. “I’m retired now. After Shibuya, the higher ups agreed that my work as a sorcerer is over, that I needed rest.” Slowly, his hands moved towards your face, you flinched at first before allowing him to cup your cheeks. “If I had waited, right now we wouldn’t be fighting or nearly divorced, we would be somewhere calm and happier.”

“If- - If we are to make this work again, we-I, need boundaries!” He nods right away. “No more jumping to conclusions without consulting the other, no more conversations about death and pain. If we are together we will live happily, Nanami.”

You don’t allow him to say nothing more, arms going straight to his shoulders, you raise your feet of the ground and connect your starving lips together, melting in that fusion of longings and desperate love. You have missed him so much, but your body could never forget how it feels to be kissed devotedly by Nanami Kento, to have his grip on your waist trying to bring you impossibly closer or to hear his groans when you pull his blond hair. Four months, four years or decades, nothing could erase the love and connection you both had for the other.

But still, Nanami needs to learn his lesson.

You move backwards, mischief in your eyes and puff lips, Nanami feels his pants getting tighter with the look on your face. He knows what is to come, but he is not scared. You press both palms on his chest, making the male walks backwards until you both reach your room, there he ends up falling on the bed. He tries to pull you with him, but you shake your head in a negative motion.

“C’mon, please, darling. I need you.” He begs and you almost fumble at the sight of his large thighs spread for you, a messy hair and red lipstick smeared on his face. Your manicured nails scraping gently his cheeks, before tracing down to his neck, where you scratch, and still you go down.

“So good, you listened to me, baby.” You praise him when you touch the tie you ordered him to use, the print matching with your dress — Nanami thought you wanted the two of you to be paired, now, when you loose the tissue and prompts him to move back on the bed, he knows he fucked up when you follow him, crawling seductively and still, you are nowhere near his skin.

Holding it like a leash, you laugh sweetly with the desperate and piteous eyes of your husband. Nanami is torn between grabbing you to his laps or letting you command any movements of the night. It’s so hard to focus on not taking control, when you hair fails messily on your back, when you move closer to remove the tie and he smells your perfume, leaving a kiss on your neck that has you giggling or… Fuck, or when you bind him to your headboard. Nostalgia hits you both, but usually you were the one tied-up.

“You will behave, right, Kento?” Moving your dress up, you sit on his lap, perfectly on his growing bulge, earning a moan from him.

“Don’t call me that.” He implored, his jerking up enough to get a reaction out of you.

“What should I call you then…? Nanami!” You laugh among another moan elicited by him.

“You know that’s not my name for you, Y/n.” Your laughs cease, and his starts with the view of your irritated face. “Sorry, my darling.”

“That’s better…” The straps of your dress fall elegantly on your shoulder when you use his to come closer, whispering in his ear. “… my love.”

You kiss his cheeks, chuckling at his despair of not kissing your lips.

Raising on your knees, you remove your dress slowly, showcasing more of the red see through pantie he saw earlier, and no bra, the dress didn’t ask for one, he had know the moment the open back was show to him. Nanami had seen you naked a hundred and more times, but you have never failed to make him tremble at the sight of your beautiful body. The bed squeaked when on instinct, Nanami’s hands tried to reach your boobs. You knew he wouldn’t be restrained for too long, but he still owned you something.

“What are you planning on doing?” He demanded to know, eyes closed when you reached your hand down, touching his clothed cock, massaging it, opening his pants. However, you just pushed it down, but his underwear wasn’t phased by you. He hanged his head to the side, curious and already hating it. “Please, darling. Don’t do this.”

“Oh, why not, love?” Seductively, your words painted your tongue and lips with the fake innocence, while your hips started to move very slowing on top of his togged member, pulsating enough for you to feel even with two materials barring it from getting inside you.

“It feels like we are two dumb teenagers, y’know that.” Nanami groans when your pacing starts to get a little more faster.

Missing his heat and this feeling to an excessive extreme, you barely acknowledge whatever he had said. Your moans were getting louder, and the bed was shaking more, wether it was your doing or his irritated hands, you didn’t care. At this moment, the man under you was serving merely the purpose of getting you off, after four months of no cuming, you deserved it. Of course, you would rather be getting thrusted without mercy, his cock splitting your walls, still, he needed his punishment.

“Don’t cum, Y/n.” Nanami commands sternly, but you are too far gone to give a fuck. He hates when you waste your release on anywhere that is not his mouth, dick or fingers.

You keep moving, ignoring his pleas and demands, as if he was merely just a toy to satisfy you — he is, he knew that, wore that distinction like a badge of honor. But, right now, months after the breakup and longings of your pussy, he could not miss your first cum being on his underwear instead of on himself. You closed your eyes and whimpered in that way he knew you were either seconds or two minutes away.

“Fuck it.” You screeched when somehow the pleasure went away, and now two large hands had halted your movements. Leaving your daze, you realized Nanami had break free from his torment and tie, making you pout. “Don’t look at me like that, you’re not cuming on dry humping me, at least sit on my fucking face.”

No complains from you, he smiles at you silence before laying down, hands still on your hips. You move up, trying to get the wet panties off, after a few seconds of trying, Nanami simply tears it off to shreds. You want to complain and smack his smirk away, but fuck it, you’re too worked up to care. Rolling your eyes, you positioned yourself on his face, slowing descending into him, Nanami, though, doesn’t want carefulness, he pushes you down harshly and it’s already working his way to your release with his most cruel and perfect tongue movements.

Your grip on the iron headboard it’s nearly bending it, and your pleas and begs for more and more are getting drowned by moan after moan he takes from you. Nanami slaps your ass, a sign for you to start humping his face as well. His nose keeps touching your clit, and you can’t help but want to cry when he starts to gently bite it as well, moving his tongue inside, separating your folders.

“I- - I can’t, I can’t! Fuck.” Babbling nonsense, you feel the build up all over again, moving one of your hands to his hair you squeeze it enough to hear his moans of pleasure through you. “Baby, I’m… I’m…close!”

You hear something muffed, could only assume is Nanami encouraging you to let it all out. And when the knot on your lower body begs to be released, you let it go with a loud moan, tears falling and hips still moving, four months of neediness going all the way down to your husbands face and mouth, and he keeps devouring your still.

After what felt like hours, you move up with weak knees, Nanami mumbles something in an equally dazzled stated, you fall on the side on your back, laughing when he hoovers over you in an instant, pecking your lips a few times before going for your neck, where he is sure to leave those love bites and marks he adores so much. When he reaches your boobs you know he is going to be occupied for a while, sucking one onto his mouth while the other is being mercilessly pinched by his fingers, you cry out of desperation for more and more, and he keeps granting you. Always will.

He bites and sucks alternating between them, and you sense when one of his hands go all the way down to your pussy, two fingers separating your folds and penetrating it. Nanami eyes go up to stare at you eyes, drowning himself in more pleasure over your nearly passed out expressions — open mouth, bright eyes, moans of his name slipping from your lips, he is losing control with you.

“I need you, please Nana… Baby, please.” You keep begging like a prayer, hoping he can grant you what you missed the most.

He sucks stronger one of your tits before retreating himself with a loud pop sound. His fingers, though, keep moving in a steady rhythm, shaking your legs and pulling the knots from your inside. You fear you might faint if you don’t cum again.

“One more, my love. You can do that for me, right?” With the way he whispers near your ear, biting gently you lob, you could do anything he asks in this moment. You nod frantically and he coos at you with a sweet laugh. “I know you can, go on, baby. Cum for me.”

You follow his lead right away, letting yourself set lose and relax, drenching his thick fingers deep inside you while he groans at the feeling of your walls around him, knowing for a fact that it will all feel better when it gets replaced by his cock. Nanami knows that overstimulating you is a prize to win, but right now, you both need each-other in a more primal way. If you ask, demand, he will fall down on his knees and glue his face to your pussy until no one can get him out, he can leave his own needs for a century later, but right now you both are desperate for the raw feeling only him inside you can provide.

He moves away while you come back from the high, and remove all his clothing, before coming back on top of you. Kiss on your necks making you giggle in anticipation, soft sighs scrapping both of your throats before a kiss is started and deepened quickly, his tongue always so controlling of yours — you are too far gone in the need to be fucked to try and keep control of anything anymore, he knows it, he will take good care of you for that.

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.” Nanami praises you, one hand rests on your leg, he adjusts it to his waist before holding his own member and sliding inside you. “Fuck, it’s so fucking tight.” You moan with just the feeling of him going deeper, and when he stops, balls deep, you whine sad. “Shh, it’s okay baby- - I’m just feeling you.”

“Feel me while moving…” You blurted while moving your hips, hoping to catch some reaction out of it. Only a harsh slap on your thigh was the answer. “…please…?” He chuckles.

And then, he moves. Slow at first, as a way to say he is doing what you please but it’s still his call, his command. You don’t complain even if the words and sassiness are scratching your throat, they are being buried by your long moans and whimpers. Instead, to focus on anything else and let your husband grant you what you need without anymore punishments for the two of you (him for being a dick, you for being too eager), you wrap your other leg on his waist, making him go even deeper and the both of you groan simultaneously.

It’s so good you now it won’t last long. The first feeling of being buried by his thick cock is much better than you remembered, and it’s been four months, you won’t judge each-other. Nanami, though, thinks different. It’s his first time fucking you after a long time, he is going to make all of this worth it. If he had any say in this, he could be inside you for days.

A yelp scapes you when his thrusts stop being gentle and turn into a maniac rhythm, dazzled by your scent and the feeling of you wrapping around his dick, Nanami is surely losing control, you think, and while mumbling on his ears about how good he feels and how much you love him, he goes back to the slow pace. You groan and he laughs.

“You’re evil.” You whisper with a hiccup, fat tears forming on the side of your eyes. Nanami was focused at staring down, seeing himself going in and out of you, but your broken voice made his head snap up, his burned hands holding your face and cleaning the tears of frustration, he kisses them as well.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” You nod at him. “That’s what I want, baby. To keep it good for as long as we can.” And so, the fast pacing comes again.

You feel desperate and hot, your skin is burning with the desire to release yourself all over again, to crumble under Kento, and let yourself be taken care by him. He holds you like you’re a delicate paper, and still he fucks you like you are unbreakable. Maybe you are, when he moves both your legs to rest on his shoulders and starts the mating press position, you know you are stronger than you look, otherwise, you would have fainted with how terribly good it fucking felt to be even more deeper and filled.

Nanami did not stop for even one second, he didn’t need to catch his breath or stretch his legs, he only needed you. To be inside of you deep enough to never be apart, to print his size on your body so only he could bring you that pleasure. Of course, none of that matters to you — too busy moaning so loud and scratching his back to the point of bleeding. Everything felt too much, and too good.

“M-m…more…” It’s the only thing you can say on this position, Nanami smirks at your requests and complies to it, even more faster and brutal, your legs are shaking by his shoulders, he push them down to your chest and uses the back of your thighs to keep himself balanced. His eyes can only focus on your wet entrance receiving all of it, no complains. “S-so good, baby!”

You feel the same knots from earlier starting to untie, from your abdomen, your hands instantly goes to Nanami’s thigh, trying to stop his movements but he won’t budge and you’re glad for it.

“Gonna cum, baby?” He asks, and you nod with closed eyes and open mouth. “You keep wrapping me like this, I can’t handle more.”

“Please, cum inside me.” Nanami groans at your request, and like fuel to fire, he doesn’t stop thrusting. You know you made the right choice, he is going to fill you whole.

The burning of yours and his skin makes you wonder if you’re seeing smoke coming out of your bodies. It’s all too heavy and foggy, and the way his hands are gripping your thigh more and more, certainly marking it, you know what’s about to happen. Staring at him with pleading eyes, he nods at you, and you cum over his still moving cock, a shinny mess of your liquids mixing with his own, coming right after yours. Nanami removes your legs from his shoulders, letting them go to his waist again, he falls over you, kissing you starved while still shuffling inside you, making sure both of yours release are mixing deep in your womb.

After a few minutes of dizziness and high, Nanami presses kisses to your neck, prompting you to snuggle him impossibly closer to your body.

“I love you,” he says. “and I’ll never make any stupid decision again. You are mine and I’m yours.”

“Good thing we didn’t sign those papers.” You weakly state, already feeling the need to sleep. “I love you.”

“I’m still going to rip it, burn it. Whatever it takes to get that thing out of existence.” Nanami grunts when he gets up, you pout at the lack of being filled and he snorts. “Just a second, love.”

The vision of his naked ass has you ready to jump on him again, but you control yourself when he grabs something in his pants’s pocket and walk towards the bed, sitting in front of you and placing a box on your hand. You know what it is instantly, that doesn’t stop you from crying when you open it to be presented with the sight of your wedding band, the one you had throw at the table the night he left. You had searched for it everywhere in the apartment, not knowing he had took them.

“Let’s get married again, what do you think?” You sob at his request, nodding your head right away, not trusting your voice. “How about we go to Malaysia? Beach wedding, only the two of us.”

“Forever…?” You wonder while he puts your ring on your finger, while you touch his, that he has never removed, kissing his hand after it.

“Yes, my darling, forever.”

[sweetnans]

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.7)

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

Smut ahead, minors do not interact

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6♡

m.list

The date with Todoroki was breathing inches away from your neck, and your ankle was far away from being completely healed. Recovery girl was making all her efforts to put it back in place, but the swell and the red were difficulting the process.

"Tell me you can fix this," you begged to the woman.

"Don't worry, I'll have it done before you know it, lay down and relax, it'll make it easier" She said smiling warmly at your state.

You slept the equivalent of four hours in the span of two days. You were beat, so the sentence lay down and relax was sent from heaven.

You did lay down and relax for six hours, and when you woke up, your ankle was wrapped in bandages and a certain someone was by your side.

"How was the date?" He asked.

"There's no respect anymore, I just opened my eyes," you joked, stretching your arm for a glass of water that you knew Recovery Girl left in the table. He grabbed the glass and handed it to you. "Thanks"

"So?" He was eager to know.

"Well, aside from my ankle, it was pretty nice. He behaved like a gentleman if that's what concerns you. " You gulped the water down your sore throat.

Aizawa watched you carefully. Since almost 5 years, he turned from teacher to a father, but it was a daily challenge mantain two young girls that were in different stages in their life.

"Mrs. Bakugo called me to congratulate me for having a really nice and well-mannered daughter. I know she wasn't talking about the unhinged teenager busting my windows with indie music. " He smirked playfully, and you rolled your eyes.

"That's odd," you said, accommodating yourself in the bed. "Since when does she prefer indie music?"

"Nice try on making me forget about the elephant in the room," he stated, leaning on his chair a bit. "So, are you going to tell me what happened? Or do I have to find out from someone else, like when Mrs. Bakugo told me that my daughter sprained her ankle at her party?"

"There's nothing to explain, actually. We were about to go home when a slow dance crossed in front of us, so he said hey one last dance? And I said yeah, why not? And then tragedy, " you puked your words out.

"Yeah, that matches the description" he hummed in response.

"What description?"

Talking to Aizawa was always so cryptic. You just had six hours of sleep. Your head fetl like a feather, and he started to play around with hidden clues and schemes of secrets.

"Oh, before I forget, your phone is off, Bakugo started calling non-stop, and he was getting in my nerves,"

He said like he was parting ways, but he didn't lift or move a single muscle to get up of his seat. It was a trap.

"Why didn't you pick up?" You asked fetching your phone to turn it on. Jirou would definitely be there with hundreds of texts unanswered.

"Oh, I didn't have the chance before he appeared at the door," he shrugged, pointing at his back with his thumb

You were so mesmerized by the logo of your phone and disoriented that you felt like you didn't catch exactly what he said.

"Come again?" You squinted your eyes at him. "What did you just say?"

"Bakugo and me had a very pleasant chat"

Oh, he was enjoying your suffering. What was happening to the world that all of a sudden, it was the funniest thing to mess up with you?

"You didn't," you said at the same time that he was nodding.

According to what he said, when he saw you in the dress the day before, you were actually pissing yourself to know, but the thought of it came with an immeasurable amount of denial. What could they have talked about? Did you or did you not want to know?

"Relax," he said, stopping the cartwheels in your head. "He told me how it happened." he glanced at your now normal ankle. "And that he was very sorry that he couldn't stop it. That's why I said it matched the description, what you said, and what he said, but do you know what doesn't match the description?"

You were almost afraid to ask. He had his purpose, and you led him exactly where he wanted you. Being a parent wasn't easy, but Aizawa knew damn well how to play his cards when it came to his daughters.

You looked at him, waiting for him to continue the interrogation. He sighed defeated.

"Eri told me about your date with Todoroki, I thought that maybe she was confused, but then I realized when Bakugo told me that he invited you at the last minute, that there wasn't any chance for Eri to know that piece of information even as nosy as she is"

Busted.

After what Jirou said that morning and with Aizawa looking at you, not with disappointment eyes, more like with I don't understand eyes is that you realized that you were in fact betraying at yourself.

You wouldn't lie. Last night, you were just a twisted ankle away to kiss him.

You were madly in love with the concept of love, and even though all this Bakugo mess started like a mistake, it suddenly evolved to something else. You were catching feelings for the bastard. And you couldn't deny it anymore.

He also played his cards very well, being the stubborn asshole who eagerly wanted to get to know you to the point of pushing you out of your comfort zone to in fact, have a good time to him. The one night stand was surely a mistake, your first time doing something so reckless and so unlike you. You wanted to get rid of him because he was the walking reminder of something that didn't describe you at all, but then he turned it in a way you didn't see coming.

Does he feel the same for you? Doubtful. It wasn't a secret that he was used to those encounters you wanted to avoid. The adamant behavior of getting your attention was just the ego boost he needed after you completely flicked him off.

You liked him. As a friend and with real and not so friendly feelings, but you weren't sure that his acts towards you had the same meaning.

"I know what you're thinking, and you're totally right," you said. There was nothing to be ashamed of exploring your options. Todoroki was hot. He was kind, but you had your mind wrapped around another man, and it wasn't fair for him.

"I mean, he's a nice guy, but after my secret conversation with Bakugo, it seems he's not playing around when It comes to you"

You rolled your eyes, and his brows furrowed.

"Just because he wanted to be heroic doesn't mean he's into me. Isn't that the purpose of this school? Acting like heroes when someone is in distress?"

"Yes, it is, but believe, calling the victim twenty times in one hour doesn't seem like the school purpose to me"

Oh, the world was ending. He was delusional too.

"He felt guilty because he handed me the heels," you murmured, trying to convince him and yourself that he wasn't into you that way.

"I'm just pointing at the facts," he stated, smacking his palms on his knees. "About the Todoroki date, are you sure you want to go in that state? You can always say I didn't let you go"

That state had different meanings. One of them was about the now normal but partly healed ankle, and the other was about your train of emotions that was ready to crash.

Dadzawa always setting the bar higher and breaking the daddy issues.

"It's okay. I can't leave him hanging, and besides, I can always turn a romantic date to something completely platonic. I'll give it another try when I get hold of my feelings again, " you smiled through the tumultuous feeling of something breaking slowly inside of you.

You were stuck. Stuck in the moment where you don't know what to do with your feelings, and also, you don't want to hurt somebody else for the sake of it.

...

Bakugo had a rough night. He woke up several times at night wondering of your state. He paced through his bedroom, feeling extremely guilty for not taking you straight to the emergency room. At the first light, he started texting you. The double check stared at him but never changed its colors. Shit.

He started calling after it. The first times the waiting tone received him and made him curse under his breath, and then after what it felt like the twentieth time, the call didn't even get past the first beep. Disconnected.

That was the sign he needed to get his jacket, put on some trousers and go to your room.

"Oh my god, stop it," Jirou spoke through the cloaed door inside, annoyed with the loud knocking that reverberated in the hallway. "What do you want?" She said before realizing that Bakugo was in front of her.

"Where is she?" He asked, gasping for air. He ran from his building to yours and took the stairs in both of them.

Jirou was visibly asleep before he came. She had a lousy shirt and she was barefooted.

"Uhm I took her to recovery girl, and she swore that she would be fine," she said, glaring at the windows. "But now that you mention it, what time is it?"

"It's almost nine," he said, grabbing his phone to check the clock.

"Jeez, I took her at six this morning. She hadn't texted you?"

Jirou walked inside the door, and Bakugo followed. Your bed was made, and there were wrinkles on the duvet. He realized that you didn't catch an eye last night and felt guiltier than ever.

"She didn't text me either"

The state of Jirou was the same as you. Barely three hours of sleep did its damage on her face, and the bags under her eyes were really showing it.

"Don't worry, I'll go check on her, and I'll text you. Go back to sleep ears. " He threw the nickname to level the kindness so unlike him.

Jirou raised her eyebrows at him, very surprised and now surely convinced on what team she was.

The way to the infirmary was long enough to gather his thoughts about you, what to say, and how to approach the fact that you almost kissed last night. He was head over heels over you, and even though he was known to be a full player who liked to mess around with chicks, the gossip about it wasn't totally like that. He never had the need to dissipate the rumors because he realized that if he'd say something about everything that people invented about him he would spend all his college years trying and convincing the people to believe him and that wasn't who he was. He acted by instinct, he made the rules, and he would never follow a bunch of assholes who got nothing better to do than to spread useless information about him.

He never felt the urge to see someone in a desperate way that he was feeling at that moment. He was basically running to get to you through the crowded hallways, bumping into people's shoulders.

How did this happen? A week ago, you were just a pain in the ass, a little and invisible splinter in his skin that bothered more than hurt. He didn't know you very well, but when it came to you, he felt overprotective, he felt like he needed to see you more, to know every little piece of information about your life, damn he didn't even know your backstory aside from stripes of details that people said about you but nothing else, he wanted more and he would do anything to guarantee his stay in your life.

"Bakugo"

The voice of the man who was his teacher on his annoying ages startled him. He was outside the infirmary, his arms crossed over his chest and with the same exhausting look on his eyes.

"Mr. Aizawa" Bakugo felt like all the air of his lungs was pulled out.

"She's fine. She's resting" straight to the point like always. "Her ankle is healed too"

"That's very good news, sr," he said, stuffing his hands on his pockets.

"Yeah," Aizawa nodded. "I was wondering why you didn't tell me"

Damn. The man could be frightening even for Bakugo.

"I don't have any excuse," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "She told me she'd be fine and Iet her, that was so reckless of me." The last part was more for Bakugo than Aizawa. He should've grabbed you and tossed you on his shoulder to the emergency room.

"She's so stubborn" Aizawa stated rolling his eyes and eyeing you from the outside. You were still deep asleep. "She wouldn't have let you, don't be so hard on yourself"

"Yeah, but it was the right thing to do," he said, looking at you too. Your face was relaxed, and your mouth was slightly open to let the air get out of your system. He felt his stomach flutter.

"Your mother called me this morning and told me what happened, I'm glad she was with you." Aizawa was trying not to scare the boy, but it was difficult when you were the one injured. He wanted to say thank you without saying it just to mess with Bakugo. He hoped the poor guy was smart enough to read his intentions. "Before you picked her up, I went to her room, and she was happy, I haven't seen her that happy in a long long time"

He left the "thank you" hanging, but Bakugo knew damn well what followed the last sentence. His cheat puffed out, and he was motivated enough to tell you everything when you woke up.

"I'll stay with her until she wakes up, go to class, I'll tell her to reach for you once she's fine"

Bakugo nodded, and even though he didn't want to leave you, he needed to gather his feelings to come up with the best idea to actually confess.

...

The day went by, and you lingered in your room, watching three outfits laid in your bed. Three different choices, and you liked all of them. That was the first reason why you felt like the date with Todoroki suddenly, and because of your feelings, was turning slowly into something very, very friendly and platonic. You had three choices, and you liked all of them. If the said date was something with relevance, you would be losing your mind over it and in reality you were feeling very chill about it.

You picked a white top and some baggy jeans. It was casual. Todoroki sent you the address at lunch, and you knew the bar very well. Many students went there to watch games or to cry about academic failures.

He didn't pick you up. Instead, you walked alone to the place. It was crowded, and plenty of people were there enjoying themselves, sipping beer and cackling about dumb jokes.

You found your date in the corner of the room in a booth, he was mindlessly scrolling through his phone when you approached.

"Hi," you said, smiling brightly at him.

He did the same and returned the greetings.

"I thought on waiting for you outside your building, but I was coming from the opposite direction," he excused himself the minute you got a seat.

"Don't worry about it," you discarded his apologies. "I completely understand, and besides, the air is warm enough to stay in the open"

"You're right." he played with the napkin under his hand.

The ambient didn't change one bit. It was awkward like the two of you knew that it wasn't going to work or regretted the date right before it happened.

It felt like a huge weight in both of you. Gladly, the drinks appeared not much after the awkward silence, so you jumped into the opportunity of letting go a litte of that enormous tension in the air.

After a sip or two of your drink, you let your tongue take the upper hand of the conversation. You talked about the agency of his father, about some other heroes, college stuff, and people. He told you about his years in UA high school, how class 1A behaved, and how Aizawa was as a teacher.

"And Bakugo, he was the most annoying prick of all, but I liked him, I discovered that pretending and calling him my friend was funnier than to try to ignore his attitude, he changed tho, after the war"

Todoroki was matching your drinking speed, and the date turned into a hangout between two longtime friends.

You laughed about him being so oblivious about people, and he laughed at you very subtly about your stories. You two got along very well, and you felt relaxed when the date lost its label.

"God, I'm really having a good time, you know, I was pretty nervous when you asked me out, and then something changed, and I almost bail, I'm so glad that I didn't"

You speaking more than you should was so you when it came to drinking. You stopped at the third, you weren't drunk just a little tipsy, very aware of your surroundings but not very in control of your mouth.

"I felt the same, don't misunderstand this, you're very pretty and you always caught my attention but yesterday I was scrolling through media and I saw a picture of you and Bakugo at some sort of gala. The date felt wrong after that"

The comment didn't hurt at all. You felt sorry.

"It was so unexpected," you said without trying to justify yourself.

"I heard the rumor, and I remember talking with Midoriya that Bakugo needed some grounding. You humbled him, you're our heroe"

Despise the fact that your act was very public and spoke out loud. You nodded, raising your glass and waiting for him to cling his against yours.

"What a nice surprise, what are we celebrating guys?"

The noise of the glasses clinging died under the voicr of Bakugo, who was suddenly standing beside your booth.

You wanted to die.

"What are you doing here?" You blurted in a messy way.

"I was just passing by," he answered curtly. "Icy-hot I haven't seen you in ages"

The way your eyebrows almost went to the back of your head because of his lack of manners was above you. He ignored you completely to engage a conversation with your so-not date. You were confused and staring at him while he made a huge effort to forget you were right under him in the booth.

"Excuse me," you said, moving his big and bulky body out of your way to go to the bathroom. You pointed to the restrooms to Todoroki, and he nodded, Bakugo leveraged the momentum to scoot himself in your seat.

Your head was buzzing, and suddenly, the effect of the alcohol was banished. You took your phone from the back pocket of your jeans and dialed Jirou's number.

"You're speaking to Denki. Who's there?" You never thought you would be so happy to hear your friend's voice.

"Thank god, put it on speaker," you waited for a moment and then continued. "Bakugo's here talking with my fucking date"

"WHAT?"

The sound of Jirou's drumsticks hitting the floor was loudly enough to have you to take the phone far from your ear.

"I know, I don't know what to do," you said, looking at yourself in the mirror' stall.

"Did he say something?" Jirou asked.

"No, he completely ignored me"

"He's pissed," Denki added, laughing. You heard how Jirou smacked his arm through the phone.

"I texted him earlier about my ankle, but he didn't answer me back. It's not like I could possibly have told him about the date which, just so you know, turned into a not date"

"I'm going to ask for the latter later, where are you hiding?" Jirou said concern dripping from her voice.

"I'm in the bathroom hiding. This sucks. I feel like I have to explain myself, but again, why? I'm not doing anything wrong, and we are nothing and-" you mumbled.

"What about the kiss?" Your friend interrupted and Denki gasped.

"What kiss??"

"There wasn't a proper kiss. It was just the impulse. " You tried to dissipate the chaos.

"I say you go back and tell them you threw up and want to go home, we can pick you up if you want"

You were gathering your options. They were just a few and one worse than the other.

"I'm fine. I'll hold it until Bakugo decides he wants to leave and then everything will be okay again"

Jokes on you. Your date evolved into a threesome.

Todoroki, Bakugo, and you were sharing drinks and awkward conversations where the main topic was something that completely left you out. You were shrinking in your seat, hoping to disappear.

"And then he forgot to pull the lever." Bakugo laughed above the music. He had several drinks on his body, and you were fully sober by the time he decided to stop.

A weird and sudden silence fell amongst yourselves, and you knew it was your chance to finally end your torture.

"Oh my god, how late is it?" You widened your eyes watching your phone and locking it immediately, if someone dared to ask you the time you would have no idea. "I'm going to call it a night, but you two can stay and enjoy, please don't let me stop you"

You urged Bakugo to step the hell up for you to run the far away and as soon as possible.

"You're right. It's been a long night. Since we're heading to the same point, I should walk you home, or do you want to do it, Todoroki?"

Always so polite. And so uncalled.

You could feel the headache forming in your head.

"It's fine by me, I'm going to stay for a while anyways, Midoriya is ending his shift at the agency, so we're going to meet here for some beers" he looked at you. "Is okay with you?"

Internally, you were begging for him to invite Bakugo to stay too. In the outside you shrugged.

"I'll make sure she's safe and sound." he passed his arm behind your back and started moving you towards the exit.

What the future had for you was nothing else than a long and bizarre trip back home.

The walk back the buildings was silent. You shrugged under his arm because of the cold breeze that penetrated your bones.

"Here," he took off his jacket and handed it to you.

"Thanks," you muttered.

You could tell that he was pissed as Denki said. The audacity of the man and the act he played was beyond your own imagination.

You made a mistake. That was something obvious, but he came out of nothing without knowing the entire context. Besides that, he crashed your date without any explanation because you could definitely have your ideas of it, but none of them were fully confirmed.

"My building is over there," you said when suddenly he was walking you towards his building instead of yours.

"I figured that if we are already out this late, maybe we should prolong the night a bit"

His gruff voice did nothing to hide the fact that he felt jealous because of the scene he found in the bar. He went there to have a whisky or too just to cool off his predicament of how to say to you what he actually felt for you. He wasn't very kin to verbalize his emotions, and there was always a chance that they came out wrong. He wanted to avoid that.

Bakugo guided you to his room. For some reason, you were feeling the need to say something about the date with Todoroki to explain yourself. But you were torn inside. What if he didn't care and you were making everything you thought he felt up?

You carried your feet along the stairs without even caring about your ankle. Your mind was clouded with racing throughts that were scrambling your brain.

Without noticing, you were inside Bakugo's room. He turned on the light and started picking up things he had scarred on the floor.

After he picked up a shirt, you took your chance to sit on the marron carpet underneath your feet.

"There's a chair behind you," he said side eyeing you from his spot in front of his bed.

"I need to reconnect with the earth." You tried to joke around, but he didn't even return his gaze at you.

After he folded his clothes and rearranged his closet for what it felt an eternity, he took a seat in front of you on the floor, his back against his bed.

At that point, for you, even if the alcohol was gone, the silence was unbearable.

"Fine, you want me to say it, I'll say it," you sighed. "What you saw is not what you think"

"I didn't know you were a mind reader. Tell me what I think"

The scowl on his face grew deeper by the second. If he wanted to pretend that he wasn't bothered, he was doing an awful job.

"It started as a date. He asked me out before...you know and I said yes and-"

"Why didn't you say no after we went together?"

You knew it was the booze talking. He had a couple of glasses back in the bar, and you were absolutely, one hundred percent sure, that he wouldn't say the things that he was saying fully sober.

"I didn't want to be that kind of person." You shook your head at the sound of your words. You didn't want to be someone who stood up another, but you were willing to be the kind of person to ignore your own feelings.

Bakugo was silent in front of you. He was realizing that he had no right to be mad at you because he still hasn't made the courage to confess properly at you. You were walking on eggshells disguised as assumptions.

"Just so you know, he saw our photos and he wanted to bail the date too"

You played with your fingers, waiting for an answer or some sort of reactions. Your eyes were stuck on the movement between both of your hands that you didn't notice when Bakugo smiled sufficiently.

"Tsk," he called your attention. "The balls of that poor little bastard shrinked because he saw you with me? Pathetic"

You said those words before because you thought that it would mend what was broken. You didn't think it would inflate something that was already full. His own ego.

"I can't stand you," you said, rolling your eyes at him while he smirked across of you.

That cocky bastard. He was the only one who could possibly turn an excuse into something about him.

"Says the one who went out with another guy after almost kissed me," he blurted with a plastered smile on his face. Oh, now he was enjoying it.

"I didn't kiss you." You crossed your arms over your chest and launched your boobs up. Bakugo felt the drool pooling on his mouth.

"That's why I said almost"

The tension was palpable. He had to move from his spot to rearrange his clothes without you noticing. Change of position with a very subtle movement on his Jean's sipper.

"For what I recall, you were the one who tried to kiss me"

You were oblivious to his acts. Lookin straight to his eyes because for one reason or another, the staring contest was on, and you weren't ready to lose.

"It was mutual," he answered, pointing at you from his seat. "I think we should try again, just to see if it was worth it"

He looked at you. Your physical language changed a lot since you two entered his room. You were gorgeous playing dumb when he could see through you and notice that you were almost as horny as him.

"Shut up," you exclaimed. "You ruined my fucking date you don't deserve shit"

"Uh, we are using bad words. It seems like it really got twisted in your panties"

"The only thing twisted in my panties is you"

You noticed about your mistake right after you blurted the words out. The change in the atmosphere had you gasping for stolen air. There wasn't any chance that he would let your mistake die.

"I wish," he said. His tone was completely even. "Just so you know, I like you in jeans, but I prefer you in skirts, I like your legs," he tried to dissipate the tension, but it did exactly the opposite.

"Oh now we're talking bodies?" You quirked your brow at him, and he scoffed.

'If we are talking body..." he raised his arms in defense just to add "l like your boobs"

"I like your hands." You followed his game.

"You have a great ass"

"I really enjoy watching your back and when you flex your arms"

"You do have nice hips, and don't get me started about your lips"

The intensity of his eyes on you were making havocs on your body. You were visibly flushed because of his words, and apparently, you had any will to stop.

"I lied when I said your dick was small.' You licked your lips. He found it the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

"Yeah?"

Only a mumble.

"Yeah, and I lied when I said I never wanted to see it again"

He was looking at you across the room with such an intensity that you didn't realize that you were launching yourself to him until you were straddling him. His hands were quick enough to grab your ass and to reposition your body against his, your core hitting his growing bulge.

His eyes were half lidded, looking up at you. You sunk a little on him to be at the same height. Crimson eyes right in front of you. Full of lust, desire, and just for him to know, a little bit of love.

"Are you going to give me my kiss?" He whispered right above your lips. "Or do I have to do it myself?"

The tone of his voice did something inside of you. It was like electricity running through your system. Forget the alcohol and the adrenaline of being in a battle, this was ten times better.

"I'm starting to think that the only thing you do is talk," you gasped.

His lips tightened closer yours in what it felt like a smile. His upper lip was touching yours, a faint caress spoiling you on what was about to happen.

Instead of the mutual belief, you were the one who connected your lips. The kiss was hungry, adamant, like you were chasing something you couldn't fully reach.

His tongue swept your lips, gaining its entrance to your mouth. Both tongues collided in a war that left you completely breathless.

His hands were groping your ass and swaying your hips to generate some sort of friction on your lower parts. You were definitely turned on by that.

Looking for some air to get inside your lungs, you backed off a little. A tiny string of saliva connecting the two of you leaving trace of what happened.

"Can this get any more messy?" You said, steadying your breathing.

Your hands were fisting his shirt, trying to find some balance between your chest going up and down and your aching core.

"Let's find out." he wasn't drunk because of the whisky anymore, he was drunk because of you. Your smell, your taste, he wanted more.

"I don't want to get fucked on the floor, I'm not eighteen anymore" you said avoiding the embarrassment of being so vocal.

The first time you did what you were about to do, you weren't sure about your decisions, and your senses were lacking direction. Now, the scene was different. You wanted him more than ever.

"Noted," he grabbed you firmly by the back of your thighs and walked you to the bed like if standing up with lifting a body was as easy as lifting a feather.

"I want to be on top," you said when he started to put you under him.

The sudden request caught him by surprise. A good surprise. He couldn't contain the excitement showing on his face.

"Oh, don't let that get over your head, please," you rolled your eyes at him.

"How can I not?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Your wishes are my commands, princess"

He was quick to put you in the same position you two were on the floor. He kissed you this time. Sloppy and slowly. Your hands went up to touch the nape of his neck while his hands grabbed the underside of your breast.

The kissing escalated fast enough that you didn't realize when he was kissing and marking your neck while grabbing your full breast with his left hand.

You wanted to press your tighs together and get rid of your jeans and his. You needed skin to skin contact.

Taking the upper hand on the undressing matter, you latched your neck off his lips and took away your top, leaving your boob in display for him to see.

Bakugo's mouth watered at the sight of them. The first time he had you, he had you underneath him with the lights off. Now he was watching at your body flushed against him right in front of his eyes.

"Shit" he muttered.

"What?" You asked, grabbing his shirt too and urging him take it off. He did.

"Nothing, you are gorgeous, that's all" he said nonchalantly.

You whined and smacked his arm.

"You're gorgeous, that's all," you mimicked him. "You said that like it was nothing, I am fully naked for you, and that's what I get? The only thing you missed was shrugging your shoulders"

He cackled at your dramatic antics and denied it several times before grabbing your lips between his.

"You are more than gorgeous," he muttered against your lips.

"That's better." You smiled and continued kissing him.

It didn't last long before his mouth was over your breast, taking your nipple between his teeth prolonging the ache in your body, you moaned, and he shivered.

The clothes disappeared quickly after that. You were sitting on top of his dick that was hard on your warm core.

He stretched his arm to find something in the drawer. You stopped him mid motion.

"It's fine, we are fine," you said, your fingerpads touching his huge bicep.

"You sure?" He was calm, but on the inside, he was buzzing to the mere chance of taking you raw again. This time fully conscious.

"Yeah, I mean only if you are fine with it, too," you said, and he turned it as a sign to align himself towards your entrance, pushing the tip inside of you. "Shit"

"You okay?" He asked, slowing a bit. You nodded, grabbing his arms that were firmly pressed at your side. "I have to tell you something"

"Yeah, sure, kill the moment"

"Dumbass," he rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smirk. Damn you loved that side of him. "What you heard about me, about my extremely and overwhelming ginormous experiences with girls? Half of them aren't true"

That was something you didn't see coming. You were expecting something less relevant like he was those types of guys who didn't last long.

"What?" You said stopping his sinking a little.

"Yeah, I let the rumors spread because I didn't care about what they said about me. I cared about my friends and no one else, about what they think, I mean " he said, caressing your hair and intertwining his fingers in your locks. "That was until you appeared claiming I had aids or something"

"Don't remind me, please," you tried to cover yourself, but he didn't let you. He wanted you fully exposed at him.

"And just so you know, you are actually the third girl in my life," he said with a playful smile on his face.

"Oh, don't make me feel too special," you joked back at him. "I don't care about what they say either," you mumbled, taking advantage of his state and giving him a slow peck.

The process of not caring about what people said was hard for you. All of this started because you were afraid of being in everyone's mouth because of the naked man in front of you. You didn't care about his body count or about the rumors. You cared about the moment.

After the conversation, he remembered what he was doing before the chat. He sank his member in you, not breaking eye contact in any second. He wanted to see your face, how your brows knitted together, and how your mouth slightly opened.

"Fuck" you said. "I didn't remember it was this big"

That was a boost for his ego and gas to the pedal for him to keep moving. When his dick was situated inside you, Bakugo had to take all his strength to not nut in you.

"Are you ready to-

You interrupted his words with your motions. You started bouncing on his cock the minute you found it comfortable enough. Your knees were deep on his bed, steadying yourself to lift yourself up only to sink down.

"Fuck, princess" he mumbled in the crook of your neck. He started bitting right after that with you moving up and down his member.

You picked up speed, your clit finding the friction it needed to build up the intense wave that threatened to bust.

"You're doing it so good," he purred under your ear, his right hand on your hip moving you and his left hand squeezing your breast. You wished you could talk but the only thing that came out of your mouth were whines and moans.

"Let me hear you," he demanded. His voice gruff and strained.

The same ball of pleasure that you were building on the inside, he was containing it to not spill. He wanted to get you off first, and you weren't so far of his goal.

"Does that feel good?" he said, and you moaned in return. He was moving exactly in the way you wanted it, hitting the spongy spot inside of you that had you curling your toes because of the pleasure. "Use your words, princess"

"Yes," you breathlessly moaned. "Yes, Katsuki, keep going"

The sudden use of his first name got him grabbing you tightly than before. His steady pace evolved in something fast and uncoordinated that had you clenching around him.

"Katsuki, I'm about to -" You moaned through your orgasm, your nails marking his back, and his hands firmly groped at your ass joining your bodies at the point that there wasn't a breeze that could pass through you two.

He spilled his seeds right after you, grunting and going rigid against your arms. You were a sweating mess, and he was, too. Beads of sweat coating at his hairline.

Katsuki watched you trying to calm your breathing while your body still trembled because of the powerful orgasm you two shared.

You sighed in defeat. You were beat.

"Let me take a sip of water, and I'm ready for round two" you whispered.

He laughed against your forehead and left a kiss on it.

"Next time I'll eat you up," he grunted.

You were beat, but not that beat to waste the opportunity.

Katsuki cursed himself on his mind. There wasn't anything to hide anymore. He was genuinely catching feeling for your ass.

(Not proofread yet)

When I said before monday I meant monday, giggles.

End note: Ok, but blame the jackass of my ex-boyfriend for this big fat delay! He's the worst anyway, here it is and babies I have to say that this is getting to an end...there's like one more chapter left :( the great news is that I'm working on something to don't leave you like castaways because I really love your reactions and comments.

A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)

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[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Logan Howlett, the man you are. (Headcanons!!)

Minors, do not interact.

A/N: Y’all. I’ve been in a writing rut, but something about Logan- and Huge Jackedman, by extension- regaining his moment in the spotlight has gotten me back at it. Hugh was 1000% the reason I found out that I have a thing for dilfs, and let me tell you, I ain’t mad about it. To quote one author, who I can’t remember off the top of my head but wrote a KILLER breeding kink fic for Wolvie, “before there was Jensen Ackles, there was Hugh Jackman.” If you know me or my work, you know I’m a Jackles girl, but Hugh? Hugh will always get me going, whether he’s a ringleader, a robot shadow boxer, or otherwise.

TLDR I’m so in love with Hugh/Logan again. I always am, but I’m really on fire rn. Don’t worry, I will be continuing the 2SC series, but I needed this.

As always, all interaction, especially your words, is so very much appreciated!! I hope you like this one! Also, thank you for 120 followers! This account is maybe three months old, this is an insane milestone.

CW: it’s really just soft with a side of spice, the most flavorful being daddy/breeding.

-first of all, this man is a the biter.

-and it’s not always in a sexual sense

-he’ll just walk up to you and gently graze his teeth against your exposed shoulder or neck

-especially at night, after sex or not. He’ll be holding you close- you’re the little spoon ofc🎀- and just nibble on the juncture of your neck and shoulder while you cuddle into him

-honestly, it doesn’t hurt. And he only leaves marks if he wants to, ie when he’s balls deep inside of your little cunt OR wanting to remind the world who you belong to

-he’s just got a bit of an oral fixation is all

-speaking of which, he could be between your thighs for the rest of eternity and he’d be fine with it. He LOVES when you tug on his hair as he makes you squirm, only needing one strong hand to hold you down

-he goes feral when he sees you wearing his shirts

-loves to throw you over his shoulder and to play fight

-he’s interested in anything you’re interested in

-mans can’t cook to save his life but adores watching you and “helping”

-aka being all up in your business when you’re literally just trying to chop an onion

-he can be clingy. Not in a whiny way, in a playfully annoying way.

-will always find a way to make you late to anything. Sometimes it’s for the sake of a quickie, other times it’s because he wants one more kiss or to see the last five minutes of whatever show you guys watch together

-if you’re into daddy, he’s into daddy. Especially if you’re significantly younger than him

-he likes to squish you- your boobs, tummy, ass, wherever. He loves your body for what it is and loves you

-this man is so in love with you, by the way

-he’s old as hell but if you teach him how to text he’ll text you sporadically throughout the day. Sometimes it’s really blurry, almost impossible to decipher, pictures of things that remind him of you, other times it’s “When will you be home?” even though he’s already called you to ask four times. That’s mainly on his days off though- if he’s not doing something or you then he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

-that’s not to say he’s not always thinking of you. On missions, wherever, you’re the first thing in his mind. Give him a locket with a picture of the two of you and chances are he’ll wear it forever

-oh back to the other one he totally texts like an old man. If you try to use slang, or even just use “u,” you’ll confuse him so bad that he’ll think he’s in the future or that you’re speaking a different language. He also doesn’t like emojis, unfortunately 😞

-he’s got a sweet tooth. Loves to bake with you- he can’t cook but he can make a mean batch of snickerdoodles. No one knows why, and he’ll never offer any explanation.

-speaking of sweets that’s why he loves eating you out so much, because you taste so sweet to him

-and all of his nicknames are sweet based- sweetheart, sweets, sugar, etc- with the exception of darling which coming from him would put anyone on their knees immediately

-speaking of being on your knees he loves when you do it. Not as much as he loves eating you out, but he does enjoy a solid blow once in a while

-he’s a sucker for cockwarming, even if it’s barely sexual. Just as a way to be close. If you don’t mind him smoking he’ll smoke a cigar while you do so, and get into a nice soft headspace

-the kink of his that annoys him the most is breeding. He doesn’t want kids (unless you do, which is its own conversation. Personally I don’t so works for me haha) but when he’s balls deep, pushing you into the mating press, it doesn’t matter. Especially if you’re in a place where he can fuck you raw all the time- ie you take the pill, have had a hysterectomy, etc- then he will, and he will always spill his seed deep in you, mind filling with pictures of you all round and swollen and cute even if it’s impossible

-however it is hot when he gets in that headspace regardless of if kids are in the question or not

-hang on I thought of something else and then I forgot it

-uhh

-oh that’s it. Praise. Loves getting it, loves receiving it. If you’re more receptive to degradation he’ll give you that, but he loves telling you what a good girl you are

-also has a blast with brat taming

-anyways back to the soft stuff

-he loves domestic life. Curling up with you on the couch with fluffy blankets and snacks, watching rom coms and other cheesy movies

-he’ll rest his head in your lap if you’re drawing, crocheting, reading, etc

-he loves being petted. Your hands in his hair, tracing his muscles, whatever. It makes him so happy and it’s soothing for him

-and we all know how he’s mr gruff n tuff, right?? Well if he’s really eepy and lying on his lap while you stroke his hair, there’s an ever slight chance you can get him to purr. Don’t tease him about it, though, or he’ll get super self conscious

-if you like to workout he’ll work out with you

-he really likes to box to blow off steam, but if it’s with you and you’re not a fellow mutant it’s more play fighting than anything, but it’s still fun

-he’s a sucker for cheesy dates

-call him ‘Lo’ or ‘Wolvie,’ or any nickname that fits him. He thinks it’s adorable, and owns it. He also gives you like fifty nicknames of his own.

-he loves long walks on the beach if it’s accesible, hiking’s also fun to him

-he’ll never take his anger out on you, ever

-he loves reading with you, just sitting in comfortable silence with your respective books

-that’s all for now!!

If you have any ideas for ficlets or headcanons, my asks box is always open!! Xx

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part ten

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine

“You’re insane,” Oscar tells his teammate when he sees you walking towards Lando and him. “Actually insane,” he mutters when he gets an even closer look on you. When you feel Oscar his eyes on you, you know for sure what he’s looking at. He looks at the same thing that everyone else is looking at when they see you. Lando his love bites. Why did he even leave them so out in the open? You tried to cover them up with make up, but it didn’t work. If you brought a turtle neck with you, you would have worn it for sure right now. But since you’re in another hot country, you only have summer clothes with low necklines. Which means that everyone can see the marks on your skin that Lando made two days earlier. You curse him for leaving them on this place, but you continue to walk closer to him. 

“Insane?” Lando asks Oscar. He notices the way his teammate looks at you. 

“Is this to show Pierre that she’s taken or something stupid like that?” Oscar continues to scold Lando. He didn’t even think about it like that, but now that he does… The hickeys might help with Pierre backing off a bit. “You can’t claim something you don’t own,” Oscar sighs, “just remember that before you do more stupid shit.”

Before Lando can say anything to Oscar, you’re already standing in front of them. He notices the way you try to cover the hickeys with you hair, but he stills sees the red love bites. Now that he thinks about it, let everyone see them - maybe then everyone will figure out that you belong to him. 

“Hey baby,” Lando greets you.

“Don’t baby me, I’m mad at you,” you sigh, “I should have brought a turtleneck with me. Everyone is looking at me.”

“Sorry,” Lando jokes. He watches around you and notices the way people are watching at you. You’re right. Everyone is paying attention to you. He notices some press workers as well. Normally the track isn’t busy on Wednesdays, but today seems different. He hears cameras clicking. Are people taking pictures of you? He starts to stress a bit. Lando pulls you closer to himself and drapes his arm around your shoulder, using it to hide your hickeys a bit more. 

“I might have a crewneck sweater laying here somewhere,” Lando tells you. 

You nod at Lando. Together you walk inside the McLaren motorhome. You notice the way even some mechanics are watching you. You’re going to kill Lando. This is all his fault. Lando doesn’t pay attention to them, he takes your hand and pulls you with him the his drivers room. There you finally get his sweater. You’re quick to put it on. Happily you watch in the mirror, almost no love bite is still visible now. The sweater is way too hot, but you rather become sweaty then have people look at you for the whole day. You can only hope they’ll fade away quickly. In silence the two of you walk back to the track. 

Together with Lando you’re strolling on the track. It’s relaxing to walk around with him like this. Lando is holding your hand. You like the peaceful silence between you two right now. It feels comfortable and relaxing. You realize that you don’t feel like this around other people. Lando has always been your safe place. It reminds you about how special things are between Lando and you, but it reminds you most about how you can’t fuck things up between you two. 

Your feelings are already coming in the way. They have always done, but since you have been experiencing the sexual stuff with him it has become worse. Maybe it’s because you have a tiny bit of hope that Lando also feels something for you. It’s the first time you have ever had that hope. Partly because of his jealousy, that must mean something right? But still, you wonder if it’s worth it if it can also ruin your friendship? What if you’re wrong and Lando doesn’t feel the same? 

When Lando grabs your hand, he pulls you out of your thoughts. “Don’t look to fast,” he says, “but I think Pierre is coming this way.” Fuck. You’re not in the mood for that. Slowly you watch around you, it doesn’t take you long to see that Lando is right. Pierre is walking towards the two of you. In only a couple seconds he’s standing in front of you. 

“You could have told me,” Pierre says to Lando without any context. 

“Told you what?” Lando asks confused. 

“Come on,” Pierre sighs, “All the gossip accounts are full with it. The two of you are dating.”

“Sorry?” You ask confused, “Are gossip accounts stating that we’re dating?”

“Yes!”

You let out a sigh. Gossip accounts have always been a thing. They always suspect that there’s something going on between Lando and you, but they never had any proof. You drop Lando his hand. This is a mess. You don’t even want to see your socials right now, they’re probably full with hate. Fuck. 

“Since when do you believe gossip accounts?” Lando asks Pierre.

“Since she has been spotted with hickeys all over her and she’s now wearing one of your crewneck sweaters,” Pierre answers annoyed, “I don’t get it why you didn’t tell me. I made a fool of myself by asking her on a date. You could have said something.”

“I told you that you weren’t her type.”

Lando continues to argue with Pierre. You on the other hand can only wonder when the gossip accounts are going to share the pictures of your love bites. Fuck, what are ‘fans’ going to do then? You grab your phone and look at the way your notifications are already blowing up. Reactions keep coming, you read a couple of them. Most of them are calling you a slut. Whenever you see a nice one, there are more negative ones beneath them. You search on a gossip page, wondering what they already posted. Then you see one of the pictures.

It’s you in your former outfit. The hickeys on your neck and collar are hard to miss. Suddenly you start to feel watched. It feels like everyone around you is looking at you. 

“You should have told me that you two are dating,” Pierre scoffs angrily.

“We’re not,” you sigh. It’s the first time that you’re saying something again. “And even if we were, it’s none of your business. Can you take me back to the motorhome Lando?”

When you’re finally back in Lando his drivers room, you grab your phone again. Your notifications are blowing up. It seems like everyone is talking about Lando and you dating. You have never gotten this many comments under a Instagram post, you’re above a thousand now on your most recent post. You try to read as many as you can, but a lot of them are the same. People are calling you a slut for “parading” around the track with the hickeys. Others are saying that Lando deserves better, that you’re only with him for the fame. As if you weren’t with him before he even started in Formula One. Sometimes you read a positive comment. Some people seem to like it that Lando and you are “finally” together, not that it’s true. Some people are even reacting about the true love between you two. All of it makes you sad. You don’t even notice the tears that are falling down on your cheeks, until Lando wipes a couple of them away.

Lando doesn’t know how to act. He takes you into his arms and tries to comfort you as much as he can manage. He doesn’t know what is wrong, but he can guess. When Pierre said something about the gossip accounts, he didn’t even think about the consequences for you from those accounts, but now he remembers. Every time they post about you, your notifications are blowing up. People know how to find your Instagram and how to leave horrible comments. He doesn’t even want to read it. 

“Nothing of what they’re saying is true babygirl,” Lando shushes. You let out a soft sob. “Everyone thinks I’m a slut,” you tell him, “or a gold digger or just an awful person.”

“You’re not.” He presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most wonderful person I know,” he continues, “So stop letting this get to you babygirl, they’re not worth it.” 

“Lan?” You ask softly. He nods and waits for you to continue. “This is all your fault,” you softly joke, “fucking hickeys.” Lando lets out a soft laugh. 

+++

“Fuck, babygirl,” Lando grunts when you lower your body onto his. He feels himself enter you. “You feel so fucking good.”

You’re sitting on top of Lando. He’s not even more then ten minutes back from the second free practice. It didn’t went like he wanted to. When he got out of the car, he let everyone know about that. The moment he started to scold multiple mechanics you were quick to intervene. Normally you don’t, but Lando kept going on and on. It was getting too much. He really lost his temper this time. You wonder why, normally he’s rather patient. 

Slowly you move your body on top of Lando. This position makes you feel more fulled up then the first time. With slow movements you fuck him. When you let out a soft moan, Lando shows you a small smile. His hands are all over your body. He kneads your boobs while pressing his lips against your collarbone. Softly placing kisses all over it. 

You didn’t know what got into you when you grabbed Lando his hand while he acted rude to his team. He gave you a surprised look and even shut his mouth for a bit. When you stood on your toes to reach his ear, he turned all of his attention to you. “If you stop whining,” you whisper, “I’ll have sex with you in your drivers room.” Lando shut in within seconds. He even apologized to his crew before taking your hand and almost running towards his drivers room with you. Undressing you as soon as he turned the door behind him. When your dress was all up and his pants were down and he was ready to enter you, you surprised him one more time. “I want to be on top.”

Lando can’t stop himself from letting out multiple moans when you increase your pace. Faster then before you move yourself on top of him. He grabs your neck and moves your face closer towards himself so he can kiss you properly. His hands are still busy kneading your boobs. He gives your nipples a bit more attention by softly pulling on them. 

“Fuck Lan,” you whine when he pulls back from the kiss. He chuckles and let his hands slide down on your body. His lips are attached to your neck. “No more visible marks,” you instruct half jokingly, half serous. Lando grunts but moves his mouth a bit lower, making sure his new marks can be covered with summer clothes. 

You’re surprised when you feel Lando put his finger on your clitoris. He shows you a small smile when he notices your surprised look. Slowly he traces circles on the sensitive bud, making you feel all kind of things. You let out a loud moan. Lando adds a bit more pressure. You try to increase your pace as well, but you start to feel worn out. Lando helps you, effortless he moves himself inside of you. Picking up a fast pace. It causes you to let out more moans. 

“Fucking insane how good you feel,” Lando groans. He feels himself coming close to his orgasm, but he wants to feel you cum on his dick first. He increases his pace on both fucking you as on playing with your sensitive bud. Stimulating you as much as he can. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” Lando asks you, “Let me feel how good it feels to have your pussy clenching around my cock.” You don’t react verbally. Lando keeps talking dirty to you. “So fucking tight.” “Such a good girl.” 

“I’m close Lan,” you suddenly tell him, “Can I cum?”

Lando increases his pace as much as he can. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you. When he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, he lets go as well. When his cum enters your body, Lando tells you one more thing. “My good girl.” It makes you all flustered. 

+++

Days are going by quickly. Before you know it, it’s already Sunday - meaning it’s race day again. This is the last race of the triple header, meaning that after this Lando and you will go back home. You don’t know how to feel about that. Last weeks you have spent al your time with Lando, sleeping in his hotel rooms and being together almost every moment of the day. It has been extremely nice. You like living with Lando like this. That’s maybe why you don’t like going back home tomorrow. Then you’ll be alone in your own apartment again, without Lando laying next to you in the bed every night. 

“Good luck kiss?” Lando asks you. He holds his helmet. He’s almost ready to get into his car and to start with the race. You show him a small nod and press the standard ‘good luck kiss’ against his cheek. Like you always do when you’re with him at races. “Don’t know if that will bring me enough luck,” Lando jokes. 

You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean? Before you can ask about it, Lando presses his lips on your for a small moment of time. It can’t have lasted longer then a second, but it was long enough to wake up the butterflies in your stomach. You look around you. Did anyone see it? It can’t be. You don’t more negative comments on your socials. Now that you think about it, what did just happen? Since when is Lando kissing you in public places? 

Lando doesn’t say anything else, he walks off to his car. He can only think about what he just did. He realizes that if anyone saw, it will mean that you’ll get more hate. Maybe he should say something about it on his socials? He needs some help from his PR team. He wonders what’s going on with him. He just kissed you in a public place, practically on his work, where everyone could see. Since when are you doing that? If someone saw and shares it, the madhouse will be complete. He wonders what would happen if he would date you and share it online. People have been shipping the two of you for a long time, so some of them might be happy. But there are always so many haters. When he takes place in his car, he looks at the Alpine motorhome. He remembers Pierre his statements from earlier this week. Finally someone who understands that you’re not for him to take. 

He really should solve this problem and make you his. 

Then he remembers something else. Didn’t you have a date planned with some guy for after the triple header? He tries to forgot about it and focus on the upcoming race, but that seems to be hard form him right now. He can’t stop thinking about the guy who’s taking you on a date. Who is it? Will you fall in love with him? When he lines up to the start, he’s still thinking about the guy you’re going on a date with. 

You watch Lando race. All of your focus is on him, nothing new now that you think about it. Only this time it doesn’t feel like it normally does. It’s because of some weird feeling that you can’t seem to shake off. It almost feels like something is going to happen. Something bad. It feels off. You don’t know why you’re thinking like this right now, but you can’t seem to stop. You can’t take your eyes off the screen which shows Lando his car all the time. Multiple mechanics are watching the fight for second place, but you can only focus on Lando. Even the way he races feels off. It’s hard to say without any knowledge about it, but he almost seems unfocused. 

Then you see the reason behind your feeling. Lando misses his braking point. Within seconds he’s spinning into the wall. You let out a loud scream when it happens. Quickly you stand up and walk closer to the screen. All the attention of everyone in the motorhome is on the screen as well now. Everyone is waiting for Lando to say something. To let them know he’s okay. 

You need to hear Lando say something. You need to know if he’s okay. The crash didn’t look massive, but still bad. It doesn’t take long for a safety car to show up on the grid, leading the drivers. Many drivers are coming into the pit to change their tires. You don’t notice any of it, you just keep waiting for Lando to say something. The stress doesn’t leave your body. 

“I’m ok.”

You feel how you let out a lot of air at once with a relieved sigh. Thank god, Lando is okay. You watch how he climbs out of his car. It seems like he has no trouble with walking away from the track to get back to the motorhome. Within a couple minutes you see Lando showing up at the motorhome. The medical team is following him inside, you hear some talks about medical checks but you don’t follow it. All of your attention is on Lando. 

While walking to Lando you almost trip over your own feet. “Fuck Lan,” you stammer while rushing yourself into his arms. Lando doesn’t react verbally, he just wraps his arms around your body and holds you closely to himself. You don’t even notice that you’re making his race suit wet with your tears. “Are you hurt?” You ask him. 

“We would have known if he joined us for his medical checks,” someone tells you with an annoyed tone in her voice. You let go of Lando and look around you, only to see that the whole medical team is gathered around you. 

“You didn’t have your check up yet?” You ask Lando confused. “No,” he replies. “Fucking hell Lan,” you mutter, “Go with them you idiot.” Lando shows you a boyish grin, “Sorry babygirl, I wanted to see you first.” 

Lando and you are rejoined only a small hour later. He is still laying in a hospital bed. The medical team decided that he needed some rest before getting back out of there. The crash wasn’t hard and didn’t left much damage across for a few bruises and painful spots on his body. They gave him some pain medication, which causes him to feel a bit loopy. You’re sitting next to him, waiting until he wakes up. You have seen him on medication like this before, the Grand Prix in Las Vegas showed you how loopy and careless Lando can act with medication like this. You wonder how he will act this time. 

When Lando wakes up, he’s happy to see sitting right next to him. He is quick to remember the way he crashed during the race. He feels ashamed when he realizes why he lost his concentration and how it ended his race, such a rookie mistake. And probably easy to fix if he finally gets the nerve to tell you about his feelings. He feels himself getting mad at himself. Before he can think about it any longer you’re already taking to him. 

“How are you feeling Lan?” You ask him.

“Not great,” Lando sighs honestly.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you confess, “what happened?”

He can’t exactly tell you that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the date you’re going on as soon you’re back in Monaco. That would be stupid. Although it is the real reason. Lando wants to make up some sort of excuse, but he is already talking again. Those fucking pain meds. 

“Couldn’t focus,” he confesses, “I kept thinking about something.” He can barely stop himself on time from telling you that he was thinking about you and your date. 

“About what?” You ask confused. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lando quickly says before he can say anything stupid again. He needs to stop himself from confessing even more. “Okay Lan,” you softly say. You grab his hand and draw some figures on it. There’s a comfortable silence between you two. Lando enjoys your soft touches on your hand. He feels himself getting calm and almost falling asleep again. But right before he falls asleep, he can’t stop himself from saying something stupid again. He cam blame the pain meds, but he knows that he means every word.

“Babygirl?” He asks. “Yeah Lan?”

“Please don’t get a boyfriend,” he says. “And please don’t go on a date when you’re back in Monaco with anyone else then me.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that? How on earth will he fix this? Lando closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep instead of thinking what he just did. Lando doesn’t notice the way you have a small smile laying on your lips and how good you feel because of his words. 

“I already cancelled that date,” you confess to Lando, “After we fucked I decided that it might be a better idea to practice a bit more.” 

Lando opens his eyes and shows you a happy grin. “I don’t think you need a lot of practice,” he says, “but I’m happy to help.”

“That’s a deal.”

“My good girl,” Lando mutters before falling asleep.

part eleven

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[ateliersss]

Part 4 - He Shall Prevail

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: In your past life on earth, when someone would ask you how you managed your job as a nurse with the occasional death of a mother during birth, you told them that you never took it too personal because you would never find yourself in their position. Then why were you now so adamant on giving your life for your pup? Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 5,497 Part 1: here Part 2: here Part 3: here Masterlist

⇨ Hey, guys! I‘m back to writing. 6 months and 16 exams later, I finally found time to continue my now called “Blooming Family” series. You have no idea how much I missed it.

⇨ Though I have to say, this will probably be the end of this series. Probably. I got rid of every idea about our little family in those four parts and I don’t believe I can offer much more dramatic and exciting plot.

⇨ BUT! I already announced a Prequel on how Mi'ytiar and the Reader meet. I’m still working on it and the process is going smoothly for now. This means, this is definitely not the end of our story, so stay tuned!

⇨ Want to join the tag list?

 

The metallic smell of human blood that usually made him wallow in delight, now made him feel sick. The feeling of human blood on his skin which usually sent a rush of excitement down his spine, now made him want to cut off any part of his body that made contact with it. The sight of him tearing a human apart — hurting it, killing it — that usually sated his predatory nature, now made him want to gouge his eyes out.

Blood flowed as he cut you, his beloved one, open under Cahrein’s watchful eyes. The red fluid coated first his claws and fingertips, then his fingers completely, and before he knew it his whole hand when he started to reach into you.

Your small, beautiful body, which he had worshipped more times than he could count, had long grown numb, unmoving, lifeless. Your big, gorgeous eyes that had held so much love for him were closed, sparing him to witness the moment should the spark within them extinguish.

He wouldn’t let that happen, he was sure of it. He just needed time to close the long, precise cut and get the blood that was stashed somewhere here on the ship. He knew how to stitch you together, God knows how many times he had to do it when you were on your hunting trips together, though it was never this kind of wound.

But Mi'ytiar, your oh so loving and attentive mate, had done something quite unusual for his species.

With no profound knowledge of births, let alone human births, he witnessed the act of giving life for the very first time when you had been pregnant with Akail. Even without any previous experience, he just knew that Yautja births were quite different from human ones. Their Females wouldn’t have suffered that much from pain during labor and because of that, his already devoting stance towards you seemed to reach new heights when you fought like a warrior on your very own battlefield. He was impressed just as he was scared.

So, when Cahrein had confirmed your suspicions on being pregnant again, Mi'ytiar did what every father on earth would and should do when a baby was on its way: he prepared himself. Mostly Cahrein showed and taught him the necessities who had studied the human anatomy when you arrived on Yautja Prime for the first time — leader's orders. And because there had never been a human in their clan or anywhere near it, he had to travel some time to the nearest one whose location he knew.

That’s how Cahrein learned and that’s how he was able to brief his clan leader.

You didn’t know, but if you did, you once again would not fathom how lucky you were, because how many Yautja out there with a human by their side for whatever purpose would put that much effort into them? Would any of them sit down and listen to their healer drone about the function of the ovaries? Would any of them waste their time, instead of just finding a replacement? Would they be here when the chance of saving you was like catching mist with bare hands?

Mi'ytiar did, a leader nonetheless.

And when he felt it wasn’t enough, he did his very own research on earth. Stalking through hospitals, invisible of course, thanks to the Cloak camouflaging his massive form and hiding him from the human eye, he was taking everything in. He observed the humans dressed in white and dark blue clothes scurry around before he decided to follow one around.

At nighttime, it was much easier when the staff thinned out. This way he had a better chance to explore the hospital and find his way to the infant ward, discovering it by chance. Fourteen see-through cribs were standing in two rows inside the ward. Fourteen tiny human babies were lying inside, sound asleep.

So that’s what they looked like.

For a moment he thought about being human himself. Not for his own appearance, but for the possibility of having a pup who looked more like you, his love. You were such a beautiful creature, but sadly your genes were practically drowned out by his.

At daytime, he was lucky to watch five women deliver their babies. Four of them did it the natural way while the fifth woman decided willing to do a c-section. Obviously unaware of what would happen in a few years, he gained very useful knowledge that day.

That’s how Mi'ytiar learned and that’s how he located the pup in your womb so fast and pulled it out.

He tried not to let himself get lost in the sight of the newborn, squirming and screeching. As much as he wanted to admire the little boy, another paragon created by you, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

He gingerly placed the flailing pup down on the cold glass surface of the table and against your body, snuggled between your motionless arm and your side. With the greatest care, he angled his son’s head to rest against your shoulder and moved your arm so it would keep him in place.

Mi'ytiar wasted no time in turning the Medicomp upside down and finding the needed surgical tools much faster that way. Thankfully he hadn’t discovered anything wrong once the pup was free, no suspicious rupture or tear that needed stitching. He was deaf to Cahrein’s words as he fixed the cut with wound clamps and started to mix a gel that was able to close a wound of any kind, size or depth.

When he was sure the gel was painstakingly spread on the already healing cut, he grabbed the syringe with the purple-ish fluid and inserted its needle in the crook of your unoccupied arm. There was a 50-50 chance that it would work on you. Sxánxik would close all internal damage and increase blood cell production in case of severe blood loss, though he didn’t know if it would work on human blood. But there was still a chance since your DNA had evolved through years of infusions of Yautja blood.

“You should get her blood.” Cahrein’s voice finally found its way into his consciousness.

“Can’t leave.” Mi'ytiar growled, his eyes focused on the shallow movement of your chest, scared it would stop the second they would stray from you.

“You need to. There is no guarantee sxánxik works.” Cahrein pressed, growing restless at his leader’s tunnel vision.

He knew he didn't know what was going through Mi'ytiar’s mind, and if he said he knew how he was feeling at that moment, he would be lying. It was obvious to anyone that ever laid eyes on the Life-mated pair that there was a unique and special bond between the two. Yautja were caring despite common belief, but even the most affectionate and compassionate of their species would never come close to the emotions your human heart held for your Yautja. Adding the influence you had on Mi'ytiar, it seemed to be fated.

Soulmates, Cahrein believed you had called the both of you when you told him about certain fairytales your mother had read to you when you were a child. Though you had said it in a joking way, telling him it was something hopeless romantics believed in, he could see it in your eyes that there was some kind of hope there.

“Sometimes two people are destined for each other.”

Your human nonsense would always make him scoff in amusement, until there was living and breathing proof of you being meant for his leader. Two proofs now, to be exact. When you were able to give Mi'ytiar his long-denied offspring where their Females had failed, Cahrein started to be less derogatory about superstitions on earth.

“Fine.” Mi'ytiar snarled, hitting the glass surface of the holo-map table on each side of your thighs with closed fists, only hearing a splintering sound as he pushed himself away.

When he returned, the overwhelming sight of your body made him freeze in the doorway when the automatic doors opened. He tried to not tighten his grip around the blood bag in his hand, tried not to let his claws pierce holes into it and spill the red liquid.

You were lying there, paler than you had been moments ago. Where he had positioned your arm so your pup was safely tucked at your side, the other one was lying along the length of your body. Just as your spread legs were dangling down the table, your hand was loosely hanging down where it had previously been grasping the edge in pain.

“Mi'ytiar.”

Cahrein’s voice was once again pulling him out of his own head before he could drown in dark thoughts.

“I prepare your home for your return.” The healer told him when Mi'ytiar covered your naked lower body with one of your blankets that you always kept on the ship.

When Cahrein received no response from his leader, who was too busy getting the blood into your veins before filling syringes with his own to inject it into you, he made the usual farewell gesture and his holo-image dissolved.

As soon as Mi'ytiar could assess you as stable, he took his newborn — he was so tiny, Mi'ytiar was able to hold him with one hand as he fit so easily in his entire palm — and placed him in the crook of his arm, the upper body of his son pressed against his bicep. The typical instinct of a Yautja pup to hold on made his son immediately cling to him.

With a heavy heart at leaving you alone once again, he went through the ship to take the pup to its sleeping place in the sleeping quarters. Digging out more of the cushions and covers you had stashed away, he created a makeshift crib so his son wouldn’t move in a fatal position or roll out of the pod by accident. When he was sure he could leave him alone for a moment, he put the pup down and returned to you.

You were still in the same unconscious state he had left you. With a pained, sorrowful purr he lifted you up and into his arms, the almost empty blood bag held up by his hand. The sight of you like this was hurting him more than any wound he ever got from an enemy.

Back in the sleeping quarters, Mi'ytiar put you down in the pod where the two of you would usually rest. And where the little one was probably conceived, he thought with his eyes looking over at the pup.

Since the ship was not equipped with the necessary medical supplies and equipment, he had to make do with what was available to him. All he could do now was let you sleep and heal. Should the sxánxik not do its job, his blood would do.

To distract himself — because looking down at the device around his left arm, the journey back home would take another hour — he picked his newborn pup up and started to rock him softly. He remembered your reaction when you had seen him do it for the first time with Akail, scolding him for hurling the pup around. Your words.

Trying to not let his amusement show too much on his face, he had explained to you that Yautja babies, even when they were mere minutes old, were quite sturdy. They could endure more than you would think and you had learned that in the following five years. To put it simple, Akail had been a menace when he wasn’t a complete mama’s boy. He had wanted to explore; first your home, then the clan grounds, and then the whole planet.

Mi'ytiar let out a chuckle-like rumble at the memory of an eager Akail running around, dodging his mother’s arms that tried to keep him inside your home and from running around in the village. He had watched you both with mirth in his eyes, but regretted it the second a grumbling laugh left his mouth. If it had been possible, he would have dropped dead when you glared at him with a very nasty look. Wincing inwardly, he pulled his figurative tail between his legs and came to your aid, grabbing Akail by the nape and lifting him up. Then you had looked at your son with a I’m-very-disappointed-in-you expression on your face and this time it was the pup that winced (Mi'ytiar almost too, if he was being honest).

Like father, like son.

This one will be just as in love with his mother as his father and older brother were, he was sure of it.

Warm, soft and bright.

Those were the things you noticed first even with your eyes closed.

The next thing your brain registered was that you could move every part of your body, although a little sluggish, when you wiggled your toes, and clenched and unclenched your hands. You were relieved that whatever happened to you hadn’t paralyzed you.

Blinking, you opened your eyes and with a blurry vision, the very first thing you saw was a familiar, but somehow unfamiliar metal pole that looked like an IV stand.

But that couldn’t be. You should be the only human thing on Yautja Prime, so why…

“You awake.”

You slowly turned your head in the direction of the voice. You could only make out a dark, tall figure standing in the doorway, though not tall enough to be your mate.

“Cahrein?” You murmured.

“Mhm.”

Said Yaujta entered the room to inspect the stand, tapping the bag with a clear substance inside. He traced the tube attached to it with a sharp claw to the point where it was connected to the needle in your arm. 

“Fascinating I must say.”

“What is this? Why is it here?” You asked and tried to get up, hoping the fatigue would wear off faster in an upright position.

With a deep rumble and a clicking of his mandibles, Cahrein gently pushed you back down. “The great Mi’ytiar always made sure you had everything you need should medical emergency arise.”

“He did?”

Cahrein nodded with his head. “He traveled to ooman world to get whatever you need every time oomans developed their creations.”

You looked at the healer who now inspected the red bag filled with your blood.

When you started to be more involved in the life of the Yautja, the possibility of getting hurt grew. It wasn’t likely as your mate never let you do anything that could cause even a bruise. Well except, of course, mating with him. 

When your already drawn blood expired, you would go to Cahrein so he could take new one for emergencies while you sat in Mi'ytiar’s lap, his purring and his hands caressing you calming you down. Despite being a former nurse you hated needles.

“How...” You coughed, your voice hoarse from not being used. “How long was I… asleep?”

“Six days.”

“That long?” You whispered to yourself in disbelief.

You settled back into the soft cushions of your nest, watching the healer adjust the blood bag as if there was the perfect angle for it to hang. Ever the perfectionist. 

You carefully lifted the arm with the needle inside while you grabbed a black woolen blanket to pull it over your body, somehow feeling cold despite the fire burning. 

Doing so, you dragged your heavy-feeling arm over your stomach.

Your flat stomach.

You jumped up from your lying position, ignoring the stabbing headache. 

Cahrein turned around, only needing to take one big step to be by your side, and was ready to scold you for going against your doctor’s orders, but his words were dying on his tongue when you ripped the piece of clothing you were wearing open. Immediately he averted his eyes and turned his back to you. 

You may be his patient right now, but he had no death wish. Sure, he had seen parts of you in his role as the healer, but only with permission and in attendance of your mate. And said mate definitely didn’t need to be in the room to witness his human being exposed in front of someone who wasn’t him to install that deep-rooting respect (and maybe even slight fear) in Cahrein. 

You were oblivious to the internal battle of Cahrein who was fighting against the urge to make sure you weren’t overexerting yourself and the fact that he couldn’t do so without having to look at you. Instead, you were frantically tracing the faint scar across your stomach with shaky hands.

Baby…

Where was your baby?

Where was it?!

The maternal instincts were almost animalistic as they made you heave, your lungs starting to struggle to take in air.

It had been here, inside your belly, carried under your heart…

Why wasn’t it here?

It should be… it should be…

Cahrein was really tempted to turn around when he listened to your breath getting more and more irritated and uneven. When he heard suspicious rustling, he spun around and grabbed the nearest cover to put it on you — the blanket you had wanted to snuggle into. 

“Calm, (Y/N), calm.” He purred as he pushed you back onto the nest when you tried to crawl out of it. 

“My pup, my pup. Where is my pup?” You squeaked.

You were digging your nails into his skin, scratching it without leaving much damage. You weren't really a challenge to him. You were still weak from the blood loss and the week of bed rest. Had it been a female Yautja, Cahrein would have probably been dead by now. They were just as territorial and protective of their pups as you were right now.

“He is fine. He is with his father.” He soothed you and tried to push you onto your back and into the nest. "I will call for him."

Still shaking, you ceased your resistance a little, allowing Cahrein to let go of you. Despite everything screaming inside of you to fight your way to your pup, your body in its state wouldn't even make it out of the room. So you settled down but kept your nerves on edge.

You were taking deep breaths in and out as you strained every muscle to prop yourself up into a sitting position, your legs tangled and angled to the side.

Tugging on the soft fabric of the blanket draped over you, you looked around the room. It was just like you remembered — all four walls made of smooth obsidian-like stone, the large window from the floor up to the ceiling behind your nest giving you the perfect view of the jungle-like valley beneath you by the cliff where the village was located on, the build-in shelves that mostly displayed your mate's most valued trophies, but also some of your possessions from your old home on earth like your books and your favorite pot plant, the futuristic wardrobe Mi'ytiar had made for you when he kept gifting you fabrics, feathers, fur, leather and such so you could make yourself clothes with the help of the Females.

It was home.

As your eyes swept over the room from left to right, they stopped when they spotted the small, wooden crib next to the nest. It had been Akail‘s when he was a newborn pup. It was lovingly and thoughtfully crafted by Mi’ytiar, while you had carved accents, patterns, and little figures into it.

Sure, Yautja Females had their own, traditional way of taking care of their pups, but you were human and your baby was partly human, so you wanted at least a little human influence in raising it. It‘s the only way you knew and were able to do it. Mi’tyiar let you take the reins since he had no prior knowledge himself. He was a first-time father and would just follow your instructions when you needed assistance. 

That led to you unknowingly breaking a custom. Usually, at this age, the Female was raising the pup alone. The Male was barely involved during that time and would only take over when it was time for the pup to train as a Youngblood. 

Mi’ytiar, on the other hand, the ever-loving father, was there by your side for every of Akail’s wobbly steps, incoherent mumble and mandible click. If he was human, you fondly mused, he would be that kind of a parent who would take photos and videos of even the most random event and unnecessary thing their baby did.

He was such a fierce and strong leader, callous and ruthless when the situation required it, a brutish savage if he was challenged, but when it came to his little family he was so soft and gentle like any human father or husband.

While you were spacing out, resisting the urge to reach over to the crib and check if the bedding was still warm, signs of a little life sleeping in it, you didn’t notice the newcomers in your room.

“Yawne...” A voice sounded far away before you started blinking, refocusing yourself.

Your eyes snapped to the now much larger form standing in the entrance of the room holding a small, wiggling bundle in his arms, cradling it to his chest. His yellow eyes were solely on you, looking at you in disbelief as if he thought they were deceiving him. 

Mi'ytiar pushed the bundle in his arms into those of Cahrein, who you barely registered walking in behind your mate, and made his way over to you in a few quick strides. Your eyes were fixed onto the thing your whole being was screaming for the most, but when Mi'ytiar cupped your cheeks with both of his hands, your whole attention was on him — your mate, the love of your life, your sun and your moon.

“Tahní.” You breathed and put your hands on his, craving his warm skin closer to you.

He moved forward and gently put his forehead to yours, purring loudly into the otherwise silent room. 

“I thought I lose you. I thought you die. Again.” He grumbled, his eyes closed.

You lifted your head and placed a few kisses on the skin of his forehead. 

“I‘m a fighter. I thought you knew that by now.” You chuckled, your voice hoarse.

Mi'ytiar grumbled again, not appreciating you making jokes when you had been on the brink of life and death.

“What happened?” You asked and pulled away to finally look at him. 

Mi'ytiar — and you really had no nicer word to describe it — looked horrible. If Yautja were able to develop bags under their eyes, he definitely would have some. He looked beyond tired. There was a devastated, but also relieved look in his eyes, you had no problem deciphering the reason behind it. 

“I only remember how my water broke… how you carried me back to the ship… and the call with Cahrein.” You mumbled as you tried to recall any memory you had stored in the back of your mind.

It was all blurry and tangled and you had no idea what happened when. The only thing you remembered with conviction was the pain. When the contractions started in that forest, it was far more manageable than the pain at Akail‘s birth. But when the labor was taking longer than it was normal, it got almost unbearable.

“What happened? How did he…” You trailed off as you glanced past Mi'ytiar and to Cahrein who was rocking the whiny bundle in his arm to calm it down.

“Mi'ytiar, please.” You begged as you looked back at him, pleading with your eyes. “Please give him to me. I need to… I need to…”

The distress your body was emitting almost made him shrink away. 

“Cahrein.” Mi'ytiar grunted and reached out.

Cahrein, who was struggling a little with the fussing pup in his care, careful not to accidentally drop it, made his way over to his leader. He would be lying if said he didn’t feel at least some relief when the restless pup left his arms. The last thing he wanted to do was sending you further down a spiral of frantic worry about your baby. He had seen enough Females going rogue for lesser reasons and experience showed to never stand between a mother and their pup. It was the last mistake you would make.

Mi'ytiar purred softly at the bundle before he turned back to you and offered it for you to take it. You eagerly engulfed it in your arms and the second you had a hold on it, the fussing pup settled down.

“Leave.” Mi'ytiar ordered gruffly when you started to push down the only cover your body had, not taking his eyes off his son and his mate.

Cahrein bowed his head and quickly took his leave. He would talk about anything medical and the further necessary bed rest another time.

You didn’t notice him leaving, too busy freeing your newborn son of the baby blanket that was practically drowning him.

You had knitted it when you were six months pregnant with Akail. He had been obsessed with it as long as he was a tiny pup.

Back when you were a nurse, some mothers had excitedly told you about all the preparations they had done before the baby was due. One of them had brought wool, knitting needles, and a half-finished blanket to her appointments. She had explained to you how she learned knitting only for her baby, so she could make all this stuff for it.

It was a sweet memory.

Mi'ytiar, of course, went on a trip back to earth and got you anything and everything you wanted and needed, even more than you originally needed in hopes his offerings would please you. And you hadn’t even needed to use much persuasion. Looking up at him with those big eyes of yours while rubbing the prominent baby bump was enough to prepare a ship and fly to your home planet the next day.

Sweet, sweet memories.

You were humming as Mi'ytiar crawled on the nest behind you, setting the blanket you had shrugged off to the side, and pulled you on his lap. He wrapped his arms around you and watched over your shoulder as you cradled your pup against your bare chest. You sighed in contentment when you could feel your son’s skin against your own, like it’s the final thing you needed to reassure you that you were actually here, that he was real.

Without the baby blanket covering him, you finally got a good look at your son. And god, you didn’t know you could fall in love a third time in your life.

He was perfect.

Unlike his big brother, he was the carbon copy of his father. While Akail did look like his father, having the same color scheme as him, the patterns were of opposite colors. His younger brother, on the other hand, didn’t only have the same color pallet as his father, but the patterns of his skin were colored just the same as Mi'ytiar‘s. Otherwise, he didn’t look much different from Akail when he had been a newborn — the same numbs on his head where his dreads would grow, the same thin and undeveloped mandibles around his mouth, the same arms and legs.

He was about the size of a human baby. It was incredible to think how big in size and height he would grow in the coming years.

You inspected every aspect of his tiny body, your fingers gliding over his torso and limbs, admiring every centimeter of him.

“You were right.” Mi'ytiar suddenly said. “He was in abnormal position. He was stuck.”

You stilled for a moment before you continued to coo at your baby.

“You begged me to get him out and I did. I cut in you and you…” He trailed off and grunted at his wavering voice. “You stopped moving when I pulled pup out. You were gone.”

“No.” You interrupted him and turned your upper body to look at him. “If I was gone, I wouldn’t be here with you. With him.” You moved your arms with your turned torso, so his son was back in his sight. “I wouldn’t be here to tell you how happy I am, to tell you how glad I am that you handled it so well. You saved his life. And mine too.”

You shifted your pup into one arm to reach up and place your hand on his cheek. You didn’t even need to pull him in for him to move closer and put his forehead once again against yours, closing your eyes. Since his anatomy made it impossible to actually kiss him, you decided that forehead-against-forehead was an acceptable compensation. Although it wasn’t anything special, it felt so intimate with him that you didn’t really miss the ability to kiss your partner.

“I’m here. I’m alive. I’m not going anywhere, Mi'ytiar.” You told him softly, rubbing your skin against his like a cat. “Thanks to you I’m able to continue to breathe, to walk and talk. Thanks to you I’m able to continue to love you and live my life with you, my strong and handsome mate, and our pups.”

You had so many other things to say to him, but you started to choke on your words. Tears were dripping down your cheeks.

You opened your eyes when you felt something rough rub the skin under them and saw him wiping away the tears with his thumb. His other hand came up and its thumb did the same with the tears coming from your other eye. Mi'ytiar looked fondly down at you, his head cocked to the side.

“Thank you so much.” You mumbled, your voice a little shaky, and buried your face into his chest.

Mi'ytiar clicked his mandibles softly and carefully pulled you closer, making sure to not crush the pup between your bodies.

“Anything for you.” He purred.

He felt the wetness dripping from your eyes to your cheeks and down on his chest ease after a while. And when you lifted your head to look up at him, you gave him one of those dazzling, soft smiles he loved so much.

Mi'ytiar wanted to reach out again, wanted to pull you closer and snuggle his face into the crook of your neck to smell your sweet, familiar scent he missed so much. But sadly a certain someone demanded your attention more loudly.

The pup in your arms started to fuss again, causing you to use both arms again to hold him tight against you. Shushing him, you nestled him in the crook of your neck and stroked his back.

Mi'ytiar let out a displeased grunt before he could stop himself, glaring at his son being in a place where he wanted to be just a moment ago.

You, of course, didn’t miss your mate fixing the pup with a dismayed look and you immediately knew why. This wasn’t your first baby after all.

“Mi'ytiar, don’t tell me you’re jealous again.” You grinned up at him, not even trying to hide your amusement.

“‘M not.” He grunted.

“You are.”

“Not.”

“Mhm.” You hummed, unconvinced, raising an eyebrow. “Just as you were not jealous when Akail was occupying my boobs as a pillow for a year? Or when I tried breastfeeding with him? Or when he challenged you every time you came near me even though he just had learned to walk? Or when he-”

To silence you, he bit down into your throat and you immediately went slack. It was a somewhat trained reaction every time he would do that. Where a human would shut you up with a kiss, your mate bit you. A show of dominance, without a question, and you would lie if you said it didn’t turn you on. The moan that would have proofed it had almost slipped from your lips.

“Not jealous.” Mi'ytiar insisted gruffly and licked over the bite mark.

“Fine, fine.” You mumbled, still a little dazed from his little display of power.

The two of you stayed silent for a while. The only sound was the occasional chittering and cooing of your son, who was looking up at his parents with his big, pale yellow eyes. They would grow more intense in color in no time.

“Did you already name him?” You asked and giggled when your pup tried to snatch up your finger with which you were drawing patterns in the air, moving it around in front of his face.

You watched as your pup finally caught your pointer finger and inserted it into his mouth. You laughed when you felt his gums chew on it. His teeth would develop only in a few weeks.

“The name you chose.” Mi'ytiar grunted softly.

You hummed in understanding and snuggled your face into the side of your son‘s head.

“Hi, Toyah.”

Tag List

⇨ Hey guys, despite having only some requests to be tagged in this part, I wanted to tag any and everyone who ever left a comment on one or more parts of this series. I'm seriously so thankful, you have no idea. Thank you so much for showing interest and voicing it. Thank you so much for your kind words that kept me motivated to continue this story. But, as I said at the beginning, this is not the end of Mi'ytiar, so lets hope we see each other on more of my works in the future!

@lil-lilacwitch, @zaky-ller, @eternalmoonshineofahopelessfan, @haleypearce @montybooks,

@ailujsenutna, @rorrika, @h0n3y-l3m0n05, @mahirublue, @00justanolive00,

@mortuaconjuga, @victor-rose, @screechingenemy18, @thewitchesofart, @skibbiescoober,

@pyreemo, @han-sirentell, @dd122004dd, @milkzze, @wildaces,

@serendipitous-fernweh, @misspendragonsworld, @bunnymysteriously, @ladygrimmx, @thelrina,

@quaritcxswifewh0re, @imaginarydreams, @vintage-bumblebee, @blaxkmagix, @beelievit,

@blmcd57110, @mythirdlife235, @the-artistic-devotee, @jojooasis, @pipocfamily,

@bimboreader, @noname2246, @sawendel, @being-worthy, @xcol2sblog,

@panpandeep00, @maxismp1, @bastet222, @candyladycry, @crowleysthings

[g1rld1ary]

5 people james didn't mean to kiss (and one he did) ; james potter x fem!reader

➻ first james fic!! i love reviving old fanfic trends <33

➻ word count: 4494

➻ synopsis: says it on the tin baby!

➻ warnings: swearing, allusions to sex/dirty jokes, era typical homophobia (basically nonexistent)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

James Potter was a very affectionate person, everyone knew that. His love language was absolutely physical touch — everyone knew that too. It was also assumed, therefore, that James Potter had an extensive list of kisses. That assumption wasn’t necessarily wrong, but a good chunk of them weren’t exactly what you imagined when thinking of the great James Potter kissing someone. They were often impulsive when he didn’t know how else to express his feelings. His very first kiss, for example, wasn’t exactly the cheesy, romantic soap opera that he often advertised providing for girls.

Sirius Black

The Marauders sat in their dorm room, early on in second year. While first year was packed with ridiculous adventures and the forming of their friendship group, second year brought a new awareness of girls, romance and especially kissing. That was the topic of discussion as the boys all packed into one bed, hypothesising about what it might be like. James and Sirius led the discussion with much bravado and false confidence whilst Peter looked decidedly scared. Remus, to his credit, just looked rather amused at it all.

“But where do you touch her?” James asked, eyes still wide and innocent and twelve years old, “I can’t just stand there with my hands at my sides like a twat!”

“Don’t be stupid, you hold her like this.” Sirius bent his arms in a direction that looked borderline painful. Remus huffed and climbed off the bed, pulling both the boys with him.

“If you’re gonna kiss a girl,” Remus instructed, “You have to hold her gently. Don’t push her around like she’s dead weight. James, put your arms around Sirius’ waist like that, now Sirius, you put your arms around his neck.”

“Pete’s gonna think we’re bent,” Sirius grumbled, a red hue on his cheeks.

“You are bent, you poof,” Peter quipped from his spot on the bed. He was right, of course, but that wouldn’t come to light until fourth year. James thought this was hilarious though, and began miming exaggerated — rather sloppy — kisses. And since James never failed to cure Sirius of his moods, he did the same. Remus rolled his eyes as the two boys acted out a passionate scene, loose tongues and all, until they were no longer acting.

All four boys in the dorm were frozen as James and Sirius’ mouths had accidentally connected in their stupidity, none of them sure what to do. Seconds passed as the two stood, lips locked against each other, no one daring to move. At least, until Remus let out a long, uncharacteristic wheeze, which dissolved into a fit of giggles that he would usually be mortified by, but there was no way he was outdoing the kiss anytime soon. Peter followed along momentarily, laughing so hard barely any sound actually came out, silent heaves punctuated by gasping breaths.

Released from their stupor both boys leapt apart, wiping their mouths with their forearms. Both had comical expressions of disgust, still slightly too stunned to verbalise any of it.

“We,” James heaved, “Can never speak of this again. Ever.” Sirius agreed in a heartbeat, still unable to completely wipe the blush from his pale complexion. He probably would have dwelled on those feelings if James wasn’t James, beginning to see the humour in it soon enough. By the end of the night it was an inside joke that would proceed to be referenced countless times within the walls of Hogwarts.

So although James would tell the story of his first kiss quite differently — he alleged it was with a Ravenclaw named Keeley a few weeks later, his proper first kiss will always have been with one Sirius Black in the Gryffindor dormitories on an otherwise unassuming Tuesday evening. And that secret was held onto dearly by all four marauders until, of course, Sirius’ best man speech at James’ wedding, where the anecdote received uproarious applause, loudest of all by James himself.

2. Remus Lupin

The Marauders had all known about Remus’ ‘furry little problem’ since their second year — first for the most perceptive of the bunch. Nevertheless, the group were insistent in helping Remus in any way they could, though it was a difficult task when his alter ego had no resistance to killing them. Until Sirius had come to them with the idea of becoming animagi. It was difficult no doubt, advanced magic far beyond the teaching at Hogwarts, but the four of them were exceptional wizards each in their own way, and the project seemed somewhat manageable with four brains chipping away at it over the course of two years.

When they finally did get it, hardly any of them could believe it, least of all Remus. He had never imagined that the human side of him was worthy of this much love and devotion, let alone the monster within him. However, despite how they tried to play it off, the achievement didn’t come easily to any of them. Sirius was the first to get it, big black dog accompanying the group around the castle and becoming an unexpected staple of the Gryffindor common room. You in particular liked to cuddle up with him on the couch and spoil him with head scratches when you were stressed from school — at least until the secret was revealed and you hit him upside his human head for deceiving you.

James was second to get it, though much less gracefully than Sirius. The whole group of Gryffindors had been hanging out together down by the Black Lake, enjoying the slowly warming weather after class one day. James had the misfortune of being sat between you and Lily, which made things very confusing for his hormonal body and brain. His eyes were trained on his hands, too afraid to actually talk to either of you and embarrass himself which was what usually happened. You and Lily, however, were hell bent on making that occur. While James had had a well known crush on Lily for the last few years, ever since you’d come back to school that year post-puberty you could both tell that James was both emotionally and physically confused. You both delighted in this and used it to your advantage, Lily finding him the most annoying man on earth and you delighting in his flustered expressions (secretly finding him actually pretty cute).

After thirty minutes of torture, James couldn’t take it. You’d made one too many dirty jokes directed at him and he was a blushing mess, fidgeting awkwardly between you and Lily laughing gleefully. He excused himself quickly and uncharacteristically quietly, hurrying off to be out of sight of his friends. You all laughed as you watched him go, and Remus reluctantly stood, muttering something about making sure James didn’t drive himself crazy.

Remus headed straight to the Forbidden Forest, knowing the privacy would be what James desired in the moment. Sure enough there he was, taking a moment to breathe against a tree.

“Easy there, Potter, don’t cum in your pants,” He joked, obviously amused by the whole ordeal. James turned quickly, devastated at Remus seeing him so sexually frustrated.

“Sod off, Lupin. It’s not my fault! They both just sit there looking so fucking good, talking about all these unholy things and you expect me to just be fine with it? It’s so—” Instead of the exasperated groan Remus expected, he was met with a stag standing tall in front of him. He couldn’t help his mouth dropping open, the animal far more magnificent than he could have expected out of the fourteen year old boy.

In a weird shift of figure the deer was back to boy, and James only had a moment of shocked stillness before he was whooping and yelling in the grass. Remus joined him, the two of them yelling and dancing around like idiots in their joy. James pulled him in for a hug, appropriately masculine until he pressed a kiss onto Remus’ lips, still grinning ecstatically as they pulled away. Remus scowled in a way he hoped was convincing.

“I hate it when you do that, Potter,” He grumbled as the two of them returned to their friends.

“Yeah, right,” James laughed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It’s a blessing to be kissed by my sexy arse.”

3. Peter Pettigrew

While all four of the Marauders were undoubtedly exceptional wizards, that didn’t always translate into their grades. For example, being so ahead in the curriculum made James Potter get lazy, often submitting subpar essays simply because he figured it was already common knowledge and he was more interested in higher level magic. He always ended up with top grades from outstanding extra credit projects, but the point still stood.

Peter was similarly a great wizard. Perhaps not so much a prodigy like James or Sirius, and didn’t dominate the class ranks like Remus, but he did well for himself and was pretty exceptional in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. However, he was failing History of Magic. All four of them had chosen the subject for their OWLs, assuming it would be an easy O because of the ghost professor. They couldn’t be more wrong. Binns was a useless teacher and Peter especially found it difficult to teach himself the material just from the textbook, and was falling dreadfully behind, each essay earning a worse grade than the last.

James had offered to help tutor him before their exams, and the two buckled down in the library almost every day in the weeks leading up to exam season. Peter made pretty good progress, eager to catch up with his friends and prove he was on their level. Still, everyone was nervous for the test and its outcome.

When results were released, you and the Gryffindors were all together. Whilst you and the girls all got the reveal over and done with, the boys all waited with bated breaths. Most of the grades weren’t shocking — three of them knew they could easily get top grades from the little effort they put in, but they were all waiting on Peter’s History of Magic grade. The blond boy opened his paper with shaky hands, eyes scanning frantically over the information contained. Slowly he raised his head, nervous smile apparent.

“I got an A,” He said, and within an instant the boys were on top of him, congratulating him with strong hugs or by clapping him on the back. James grabbed both of his cheeks, pressing them together and pushing a kiss onto Peter’s lips.

“Prongs!” Peter moaned, pushing his face away half-heartedly.

“I’m just proud of you, Wormtail,” He cooed, appearing much like his mother whom you all adored.

“Oi, Potter,” You interrupted, waving your sheet of results around. “I got an O in Potions — where’s my kiss?” James immediately broke your eye contact, and you pretended you weren’t charmed by his embarrassed little smile. He mumbled a response that had his friends ripping him to shreds, egging him on whilst simultaneously teasing him and his alleged manhood. He pressed a gentle peck to your forehead and you raised an eyebrow.

“Not what I meant, but ok.”

4. Regulus Black

Regulus Black had a difficult relationship with the Marauders, to say the very least. By his fifth year — the rest of the boys’ sixth — Sirius had been at the Potter’s for months and Regulus was still reeling from the impact. He was noticeably quieter and more sombre than in years previous, and a dangerous resentment for his brother and his friends bubbled under his skin.

James Potter connected these dots quickly. However, he didn’t really know what to do about it. He wasn’t sorry that Sirius was living with him, but he didn’t like that Regulus was left all alone with their wicked parents, regardless of their personal differences. That brought James to you.

You sat together on the couch, his head resting next to your thighs, curls just brushing against your skin in a way that you couldn’t stop thinking about. He was lamenting about his mental struggles as you worked on your crochet, thinking quietly as he rambled on.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” You asked suddenly, and James tilted his head to look up at you, holding back his laughter at your upside down appearance.

“What?” He asked, “I can’t talk to him, he hates me!”

“When has that ever stopped you before? Lily hates you and yet you bother her all the time,” You said, smile playing on your lips.

“That’s not true!” James protested, “I don’t bother her that much anymore!” You rolled your eyes playfully and turned back to your craft as James continued to ponder the situation.

As usual, he decided you were right. And so he sent a short letter to Regulus, asking for a meeting on the Astronomy tower at midnight. Surprisingly he’d agreed, and the two boys were standing awkwardly across each other on the tower. Regulus refused to start the conversation and so stood in silence, staring down James in an effort to scare him off. James wouldn’t be deterred.

“I just wanted to talk about what happened last year,” He said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose nervously.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“C’mon. I know we’re not friends, but I also figured none of your friends are the talking type either. So, I thought you could talk to me — full confidentiality. I don’t know, blame me, yell at me, I just don’t want you to do this all by yourself.”

“How sweet, Potter,” He sneered, “But I don’t need to talk about any of my feelings.”

James Potter was nothing if not persistent.

“Ok, well if you don’t want to talk, how about you listen?” To his surprise, Regulus stayed. One perfect eyebrow raised, he slowly sat next to James, legs dangling over the edge of the tower. After a gesture for him to go on, James started. He began to talk about the process of having Sirius live with him, the feelings they both had about it, and the guilt they both felt about leaving Regulus alone. At that Regulus looked up, eyes pooling with hope.

Then without any warning, Regulus was talking more than James had ever heard before, spilling what he supposed must have been the younger boy’s darkest secrets and vulnerabilities. James was unprepared, not actually expecting him to engage. At one point James had put a comforting arm around Regulus’ shoulder, words failing to express any of the feelings he had inside. Regulus didn’t pull away as James expected, instead only starting to cry. James just watched in disbelief as Regulus cried into his chest. Awkwardly, James arranged himself to press a gentle kiss to Regulus’ forehead right as Regulus moved to look up and speak, resulting in a ridiculous kiss between the two of them.

They jumped apart in less than a second, both with horrified looks on their faces.

“Oh my God—”

“That was an accident I swear—”

“I’m really sorry—”

“I was just trying to comfort you—”

Both boys stumbled over their words as they clambered up to their feet, putting a strictly heterosexual amount of space between them.

“Um, I’m just gonna go,” Regulus settled on, backing up towards the door.

“I’m seriously sorry, Black. It’s just something I do — doesn’t usually backfire like that.” Regulus just nodded, leaving quickly.

“Potter?” He stopped halfway through the door and James looked up. “Thanks.” James didn’t get any time to reply as Regulus was long gone, leaving him to cringe on his own. Neither of them would be telling anybody about the incident. Ever.

5. Lily Evans

You and James had been doing your will-they-won’t-they thing for a long time. Not quite since you met, but once you’d both started to notice the opposite sex you’d been participating in a battle of who could resist the longest. Teasing and cajoling were staples of your relationship. Whilst it had started as a way to pass the time; James had been in love with Lily since second year and you just liked to tease, at some point the feelings crossed over into a real and dangerous territory. However, neither of you wanted to do anything in case the feelings weren’t reciprocated, and truthfully hadn’t realised the true depth of them.

You and James were the only ones not to see the obvious: the feelings were absolutely reciprocated. It was tearing your friends apart, trying to get one of you to finally confess before you finished school forever. There were bets in place, pep talks and everything else the Gryffindors could think of to finally cause the event they’d been hoping for. Eventually, Lily had had enough.

One day you were all hanging out in your dormitory, most of you doing your homework and Marlene fiddling with a record player, trying to get it to come back to life.

“So, what would you guys think if I gave James a chance?” Lily asked, too coy to be genuine, but you were caught off-guard enough that you didn’t notice. “I mean, I know I’ve said some terrible things over the years, but now that he’s backed off he’s actually a really nice guy.”

“But… James?” You asked incredulously, essay immediately forgotten.

“Yeah, why not? He’s the hottest guy in our year, and if all goes to shit it’s only a few months until we graduate and I’ll never have to see him again.”

“But it’s James!” The rest of the girls had caught on to what Lily was scheming and delighted in joining in.

“Why shouldn’t she? It’s not like you like him, right?” Mary asked, studying your expressions. You hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. And just when they thought Lily had finally succeeded in getting the ball rolling you answered: “No, of course not. You go ahead, Lils.”

What started as a ploy to get you to admit your feelings only snowballed from there when Lily realised she couldn’t just back out now. And so she hatched a plan. Everything was going perfectly; Sirius and Remus had made sure the common room was devoid of younger students so no unhelpful rumours could be spread, and Marlene had been hanging out with you all evening to make sure you stuck to the schedule she’d devised.

With perfect precision, you and Marlene entered through the portrait just as Lily came down from the dorms.

“Hey, Potter,” She called, and James looked up curiously from his game of wizard’s chess. The redhead marched over to him, cupping both of his cheeks and kissing him strongly. Your jaw dropped open. You couldn’t believe Lily was just going for it like that, but even more you couldn’t believe the sick feeling creeping up from your stomach. You looked at Marlene, who only looked marginally less shocked. A glance around the room proved similar. Although they all knew Lily’s plan, it was two entirely different things to hear about her scheme to get the two of you together and seeing Lily Evans kissing James Potter.

“I’ve, uh, gotta go,” You mumbled, somehow finding your footing to run from the room, desperate to get anywhere where you didn’t have to see that, and the subsequent (or so you believed) union of a happy couple.

Lily pulled away from the kiss, eyes immediately trying to find you and she was puzzled when she couldn’t. A look at Marlene told her all she needed to know and her heart sank; she’d failed. James was looking a little more dazed than the head girl, and suddenly looked terribly awkward in his seat.

“Look, Lils. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t feel that way about you anymore. There’s— there’s someone else, and I, I have to go.” With that James headed up to his dormitory, and the rest of your friends stood in a thick silence for several moments.

“I think I just made everything worse,” Lily said, and then the chaos started.

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen?” Sirius asked loudly, running a stressed hand through his hair.

“I don’t know! I just figured maybe they’d have an epiphany and both realise they’d rather be kissing each other!” Lily cried, throwing herself into an armchair.

You

Lily was right, she’d unintentionally made everything worse. You were upset at what you’d seen and the story you’d attributed to it, and even more so at your terribly timed realisation of your feelings. Because of this you’d started avoiding James in an effort to get over him, which only made you more miserable that you couldn’t talk to your favourite person. James, in turn, hadn’t seen you enter the common room on the night of the kiss and so believed —and dearly hoped — that you were blissfully ignorant, and so was equally perplexed and distraught at the space between you. He’d tried to approach you about it but you evaded him or turned him away every time.

“Hey, love, can we please—”

“It’s fine, James,” You interrupted him, “It was all just a bit of fun, right? All the flirting, the being touchy. But now you’re with Lily and I’ll back off, I get it, don’t worry. I wish you two every happiness.” You tried to sound as genuine as you could while sadness bit at your heart, and left James standing astounded in the corridor. Now he knew that you’d seen the kiss the issue was obvious, but the solution remained a mystery to him.

You’d taken to Marlene to get your feelings out, and she listened patiently as you rattled off a monologue about your childish jealousy and broken heart. Luckily, she’d discussed how to handle this with Lily — who knew you wouldn’t go to her because of her alleged involvement with James, and set off (hopefully) your friend’s last attempt to get you two together. She finally shook you out of it, frustrated with the lack of action.

“They’re not together,” She said, stopping you in your tracks.

“What?”

“They’re not together,” She repeated, making intense eye contact with you. “It was all this dumb plan Lily had to get the two of you together. She thought if you saw James getting with someone else you’d finally realise your feelings for him. And you did, but you were supposed to stick around to hear Potter reject her and say that he liked someone else, you.” You were shocked into silence, what could you say to that?

“So,” You started carefully, “What do I do now?”

James was in a similar situation with the boys.

“She saw Lily kiss me and now she thinks I like Lily when I like her! Plus, she won’t even be in my presence long enough for me to explain that it’s all just this huge misunderstanding and it’s her I want to be snogging!” James lay dramatically across his bed as the boys sighed.

“Prongs, isn’t it obvious?” Sirius asked and James cocked his head to the side, looking remarkably like a confused puppy. “Do something she can’t ignore. Make a grand gesture to prove your feelings for her.” James thought about it, it made sense. If you wouldn’t hear his explanation, he’d just have to make you.

“How?”

You and James went into the following Saturday with the same goal. It was Gryffindor’s quidditch semi-final, so there was a party being held whatever the outcome. It would be the first time you’d see each other since you’d realised your mistake since training was taking up all of James’ time.

Gryffindor had won, thankfully, which had both of you in higher spirits. The party was already in full swing by the time you got there, opting for a smoke first to calm your nerves. You’d spotted James almost as soon as you entered, always the heart and soul of a party. You marched towards him with a purpose, but as soon as he set eyes on you he jumped up to stand on a table. Someone had lowered the volume of the music — not silent, but low enough so you could hear him yelling over it. He said your full name, clearly and intentionally in a way that had surrounding people look at you curiously.

“I love you,” He said suddenly. “I am in love with you, not anyone else, and whatever made you think that’s not true was just a huge misunderstanding. Because I love you so much, and all I want to do is snog you until I’m the only name you remember, baby.” You let out a short laugh at his vulgarity and the cocky smirk that accompanied it, but a cheek-splitting smile won out when you thought about the preceding words and the sincerity he’d instilled in them. Before you even knew what you were doing you were racing towards him, gratefully taking Peter’s hand to join James on the table.

You honestly couldn’t tell who had initiated the kiss, but you were suddenly so intimately joined together it was like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs, compressing your body in an effort to fuse to his. His strong arms around you couldn’t shield you from the confetti being thrown around (for the match, of course, not just your kiss), nor the catcalls of your friends. You only pulled away when you felt James’ tongue start exploring a little too far, mindful that half the people you knew were watching. You wore matching grins as you parted, foreheads still pressed together and breathing heavy.

While it might have taken four years, innumerable (accidental) kisses and one failed set-up plan to get there, you were sure in your heart that James Potter was the only boy you ever wanted to kiss. And so you did, over and over for the years to come, and you cheered and applauded enthusiastically as the seemingly never ending list of friends and family told stories of receiving a coveted James Potter kiss throughout the years, knowing you were the only one who got to be his bride.

[papercorgiworld]

Tutoring first years

The things Theodore Nott does for love.

There was a request to write more about the scenarios from ‘Pansy’s Interrogation I’. This ended up being a lot longer than expected so I thought I would post both stories separately. Hope you like this one. And I hope to finish Mattheo’s tomorrow.

Warning: suggestiveness, not proofread

If you want a little more context, you can read Pansy’s interrogation, but it’s not a must.

The first tutoring class didn’t go as planned. You were helping three kids with transfigurations, Digorry was helping five kids with herbology and Theodore found himself stuck teaching potions to dumb and dumber. When the Ravenclaw first year next to Theo shakes his head after Theo had explained something for the third time, Theo rolls his eyes and sighs.

He mutters something in Italian and lets his eyes wander around the room before returning his attention to the kid next to him. To Theodore’s surprise the kid looks all pouty and tears are welling up. Just great. “Potions is not that difficult, no need to cry about it.” The Ravenclaw sniffs a bit before looking up at Theo. “My mother is Italian, I know you just called me stupid.” Theodore’s eyes almost pop out and he quickly glances over to you, fortunately you haven’t taken notice yet. “Look you’re clearly as bad at Italian as you’re in potions, ‘cause I didn’t say you were stupid.” The other kid sitting at Theodore’s table grimaces, knowing that that was the wrong thing to say.

The Ravenclaw starts sobbing softly and you walk over. “What’s wrong, Alan?” You ask, concerned about what’s going on. Theodore pretends to be sympathetic and equally concerned, but in his mind he’s cursing the kid. Alan, right that’s the crybaby’s name. You better keep your mouth shut. “He called me dumb in Italian and I know because my mom speaks Italian.” Theodore stares daggers at the kid. You nod calmly, but you really don’t know what to say. “Well, I’m sure Theo didn’t mean it that way. Theo, a word please.” Theodore forces a half smile and gets up, but can’t help but whisper with poison in his voice: “Snitch.”.

You walk to the hallway and Theodore closes the door behind him. “You can’t call someone dumb, Theo.” Theodore just rolls his eyes, that dumb Ravenclaw really ruined it for him. “He wasn’t supposed to understand.” A soft smile tugs at your lips at his lame excuse, but you suppress it. “You need to support them, help them gain confidence. It’s not because they’re slow learners that they’re stupid.” You explain. “Yeah, I know, but there’s a difference between being a slow learner and being a little slow.” You smack Theo with the book you were holding. “Auch, woman, no need for that. I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut in every language from now on.” You narrow your eyes at him. “You better.” Theo can’t help but lick his lips as he again sees a smile tug on your lips. You both return to your students and Theodore really gives his all trying to help the kids.

***

Theodore enters the Slytherin common room with an exhausting expression and his friends immediately take notice. “How did professor Nott do? Were the kids paying attention?” Blaise asks with a humored smile plastered on his face. Theodore just sighs. “Apparently, I’m not allowed to call them dumb.” Pansy can’t help but laugh. “Oh, but that just takes the fun out of it.” Mattheo complains. “All this for a girl?” Draco questions with a mocking tone. Theodore eyes shoot up in annoyance at Draco but he ignores him and calmly reaches for his cigarettes, while nudging Mattheo as a nonverbal invitation to head up to the astronomy tower. Theo was not in the mood for more teasing.

***

Theodore takes his seat at the table with dumb and dumber. “See, I’m not stupid.” Alan says with a proud voice as he shows Theodore his latest potions test. Theo carefully examines the paper. “Look at that, not a total knucklehead after all. Let’s review this week’s material four times as well and get another grade like this.” Both kids smile at Theodore’s weird way of complimenting. You can’t help but feel butterflies as you watch Theo work and laugh with the kids.

The feeling is totally mutual, because every time Theodore looks over to you he can’t help but stare and fall in love a little more. It’s even so bad that he’s starting to worry that the two dumbasses next to him might notice. You focussed on teaching the kids to hold their wand properly and make the right movements so they don’t accidentally set something on fire. Suddenly you hear an outburst of giggling coming from Theodore’s table. You look up to see a slightly flustered Theo shushing his table and when he looks up he gives you an awkward smile making you blush.

Now not only his friends are giving Theo a hard time about his crush his students had joined in as well. Theodore almost chased them out when the tutoring hour had passed. “You really seem to get along with them, I’m glad.” You say and Theodore just raises his eyebrows telling you the kids were still a lot of work. He can’t help but stare as a giggle escapes you. When the silence gets a bit weird you decide to thank Theodore. “You really are my hero for doing this. It means a lot to the kids and to me. Honestly, I really didn’t expect you to sign up but I’m glad you did. You do more than just teach, you inspire these kids.” Theo shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet. He can’t shake the sad feeling that you see him as this nice person who wants to help first years, while his true motives are as selfish as can be. He wants to be honest with you but he knows that no good will come of it. “Yeah, I never expected it to be this valuable. I’m glad I signed up.”

Your paths split when you tell him you have to visit Dumbledore to report about the tutoring project. Theodore quietly walks to the Slytherin common room not looking forward to more teasing. “Well well teach, how did it go?” Draco chimes as soon as he spots Theo, who just rolls his eyes in response. “Did you make a move on her?” Mattheo asks sincerely curious. “No, I was busy with Alan and Shane and she was busy teaching kids proper wand movement.” Mattheo nods, but can’t keep his mind from thinking a little dirty. “Just a little longer of playing tutor and she’ll help you out with wand movement as well.” Mattheo wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and Enzo is the first to laugh at the horrible joke, while Blaise just shakes his head. However, Mattheo’s face goes pale in horror as he sees you enter the common room with wide eyes. You clearly heard him. Mattheo tries to subtly signal Theo to keep his mouth shut and turn around, but Theo doesn’t catch on. “Yeah, nothing’s more sexy than a sweet guy helping out dumb kids. I’m definitely winning her over.”

Mattheo grabs Theo’s arm forcing him to turn around. Suddenly all eyes are on you and give Theo a fake smile. “Real sexy.” Theodore wants to say something, but you won’t let him. “I came to tell you that Dumbledore is awarding each tutor an extra 40 house points for their selfless hard work, enjoy.” You turn on your heels and Theodore just curses himself.

***

The next morning at breakfast Alan and Shane walk up to Theodore with sad faces. “(Y/n) said you won’t be helping us anymore.” Theodore can’t look up to them. It was his fault he hurt you and disappointed his favorite morons. “Why? Are we that hopeless?” One of them asks and Theodore immediately protests. “No, no. Don’t ever think that. Neither of you are geniuses, but you’re far from hopeless. I’m the dumb one. I’m too stupid to be teaching you guys something.” The kids look confused, but nod with pouty faces and leave.

“That’s just sad.” Enzo says, feeling bad for everyone involved. Theodore sighs and searches for your face. By Salazar, how did I get myself in this mess. “Not all hope is lost.” Pansy sighs when she sees everyone depressed about Theo’s situation. In an instant all eyes are on her. “She’s obviously very upset and I think that’s because she’s really disappointed.” So far Theodore found no words of encouragement. “I think she’s so disappointed because she really really liked you. Which means you can still win her back.”

***

You joined Cedric outside on a bench and sighed. “I know we were already short on tutors, but keeping Nott in the project was just wrong.” He gives you a sympathetic smile, but doesn’t say anything. “Look, we will find someone better.” After a moment of silence you speak up again sounding desperate. “Any suggestions? I have no idea who we could ask.” Cedric was about to say something reassuring when he saw Hermoine and Harry walk up to them. “Look, I know I said I didn’t have time, but I’ll make time. I’ll help you with the tutoring project.” Hermoine rants and Harry just nods. “I will help as well.” Luna and two other Ravenclaw join you as well. “Can we still sign up for the tutoring project?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but you nod and hand them all a flyer with information. “Odd.” Cedric blurs with his face in a frown as he watches everyone walk away after they signed up. You just nod in agreement.

It’s then that you spot Blaise and Enzo walk up to your bench. “We’re here to sign up as tutors.” Okay, now I’m sure. Something’s off. “Why?” You ask, sounding meaner than you intended and making Cedric give you a disapproving look. “Because being a first year is scary, you learn so much and it’s overwhelming. I want to inspire them to continue learning and see the fun in it.” You frown a little surprised by Enzo’s argument, but you hand him the flyer anyway. Next your eyes land on Blaise who takes a deep breath. “Tutoring is a great opportunity to work on social skills by learning to encourage young minds. It also looks good on your resume.” You can’t help but laugh at his monotonous voice. “Did Theo put you up this?” You ask and Enzo gives you an awkward smile.

“He knows you’re short on tutors so he spent his day recruiting tutors for you.” You roll your eyes and huff. When you get up Cedric grabs your wrist and forces you to sit back down. “Hear them out. Nott is a slow learner, but that doesn't mean you should give up on him for doing one dumb thing.” Enzo nods. “He really cares about your project, even if it’s just because it’s ‘your’ project. He wants to help.” You feel the butterflies return, but it’s Blaise’s argument that convinces you to forgive Theo. “Honestly, is it that bad of a thing that the guy tried to impress you by helping others? Looks more like a win win to me.” You can’t help but smile. Maybe it really isn’t that bad.

***

As you approached the quidditch stadium you could already spot Theodore flying thanks to his messy hair. Your hand reaches up to your cheek as you feel yourself heat up. How did that idiot get you feeling like this by just being nearby? When you enter the stadium Draco is the first one to see you and he yells at Theo, who immediately flies down to meet you.

“Hey.” You can’t help but giggle at his meek voice, making him feel a little embarrassed. You take a few steps towards him. “I have enough tutors for every student now.” He smiles content at the good news. “Except for one student, Alan, so I was hoping you would come back. He’s rather fond of you.” Theodore shakes his head in agreement as he closes the last bit of distance between you two. “I would like that. I was missing the little bugger already.”

“And I also wanted to ask you for a favor.” You ask and lick your lips, making Theo’s mind go crazy with anticipation. “Anything.” He curses himself internally for sounding like a simp. “Would you mind tutoring me as well?” Theodore’s eyes drown in yours. “Definitely, what class?” You lean into him and let your hand wander over his chest, slowly making its way down. “Just something extra curricular.” Your hand rubs his crotch, earning you a soft sound from Theodore as his eyes fill with lust. At your touch his brain shuts down. “Of course, it’s very important to stay underneath- I mean on top of extra curricular activities. Both are fine really.” You can’t help but smirk a little as you notice how easily his brain got fried under your touch. “Later.” You say and turn around with a cheeky smile. Theodore swallows and tries to regain composure.

”Smooth.” Theodore rolls his eyes as he turns around to spot a smirking Mattheo and laughing Draco.

Bonus: Theo simping for you

“Of course, it’s very important to stay underneath- I mean on top of extra curricular activities. Both are fine really.”

His mind is all about those extra curricular activities.

Picture source: https://pin.it/4OsJcVNGA

[dannyphannypack]

Writing ASL: Techniques to Write Signed Dialogue

Hey, guys! I've been reading a lot of DC Batfamily fanfiction lately, and in doing so I realized how little I see of ASL being represented in written text (love you, Cass!). I wanted to briefly talk about tactics to writing American Sign Language (ASL), and ways that these techniques can help improve your writing in more general contexts!

SOME THINGS BEFORE WE GET STARTED

I will be discussing everything in terms of ASL! If you have a character who uses Chinese Sign Language or even British Sign Language, the same rules will not necessarily apply! Don't be afraid to do some extra research on them.

Do not let this dissuade you from writing a character who signs ASL! This is by no means the end-all be-all to writing ASL dialogue, and I do not intend this post to insinuate that by writing ASL the same way you write English you are deeply offending the Deaf community. If this is something you're interested in though, I highly recommend experimenting with the way you write it! Above all, have fun with your writing.

Related to 2nd rule, but still very important: not everyone will agree that sign language should be treated/written any differently than English. This is a totally valid and understandable stance to take! I do not hope to invalidate this stance by making this post, but rather to introduce an interested audience to how ASL operates in the modern world, and how that can be translated into text.

ADDRESSING SOME MISCONCEPTIONS

ASL is the same as English, just with gestures instead of words.

Actually, no! There is a language that exists that is like that: it's called Signing Exact English, and it's an artificial language; i.e., it did not come about naturally. All languages came from a need to communicate with others, and ASL is no different! It is a language all on it's own, and there is no perfect 1:1 way to translate it to English, just as any spoken language.

2. But everyone who signs ASL knows how to read English, don't they?

No, actually! Because it's a completely different language, people who sign ASL and read English can be considered bilingual: they now know two languages. In fact, fingerspelling a word to a Deaf person in search for the correct sign does not usually work, and is far from the preferred method of conversing with Deaf people.

3. Because ASL does not use as many signs as we do words to articulate a point, it must be an inferior language.

Nope! ASL utilizes 5 complex parameters in order to conversate with others: hand shape, palm orientation, movement, location, and expression. English relies on words to get these points across: while we may say "He's very cute," ASL will sign, "He cute!" with repeated hand movement and an exaggerated facial expression to do what the "very" accomplishes in the English version: add emphasis. Using only ASL gloss can seem infantilizing because words are unable to portray what the other four parameters are doing in a signed sentence.

4. Being deaf is just a medical disability. There's nothing more to it.

Fun fact: there is a difference between being deaf and being Deaf. You just said the same thing twice? But I didn't! To be deaf with a lowercase 'd' is to be unable to hear, while being Deaf with an uppercase is to be heavily involved in the Deaf community and culture. Deaf people are often born deaf, or they become deaf at a young age. Because of this, they attend schools for the Deaf, where they are immersed in an entirely different culture from our own. While your family may mourn the loss of your grandfather's hearing, Deaf parents often celebrate discovering that their newborn is also deaf; they get to share and enjoy their unique culture with their loved one, which is a wonderful thing!

YOU MENTIONED ASL GLOSS. WHAT IS THAT?

ASL gloss is the written approximation of ASL, using English words as "labels" for each sign. ASL IS NOT A WRITTEN LANGUAGE, so this is not the correct way to write it (there is no correct way!): rather, it is a tool used most commonly in classrooms to help students remember signs, and to help with sentence structure.

IF THERE'S NO CORRECT WAY TO WRITE IN ASL, THEN HOW DO I DO IT?

A most astute observation! The short answer: it's up to you. There is no right or wrong way to do it. The longer answer? Researching the culture and history, understanding sign structure, and experimenting with description of the 5 parameters are all fun ways you can take your ASL dialogue to the next level. Here are 3 easy ways you can utilize immediately to make dialogue more similar to the way your character is signing:

Sign languages are never as wordy as spoken ones. Here's an example: "Sign languages are never wordy. Spoken? Wordy." Experiment with how much you can get rid of without the meaning of the sentence being lost (and without making ASL sound goo-goo-ga-ga-y; that is to say, infantilizing).

Emotion is your friend. ASL is a very emotive language! If we were to take that sentence and get rid of the unnecessary, we could get something like "ASL emotive!" The way we add emphasis is by increasing the hand motion, opening the mouth, and maybe even moving the eyebrows. It can be rather intuitive: if you mean to say very easy, you would sign EASY in a flippant manner; if you mean to say so handsome, you would sign handsome and open your mouth or fan your face as if you were hot. Think about a game of Charades: how do you move your mouth and eyebrows to "act out" the word? How are you moving your body as your teammates get closer? There are grammar rules you can certainly look up if you would like to be more technical, too, but this is a good place to start!

Practice describing gestures and action. ASL utilizes three dimensional space in a lot of fun and interesting ways. Even without knowing what a specific sign is, describing body language can be a big help in deciphering the "mood" of a sentence. Are they signing fluidly (calm) or sharply (angry)? Are their signs big (excited) or small (timid)? Are they signing rushedly (impatient) or slowly? Messily (sad) or pointedly (annoyed)? Consider what you can make come across without directly addressing it in dialogue! Something ese about ASL is that English speakers who are learning it tend to think the speakers a little nosy: they are more than able to pick up on the unsaid, and they aren't afraid to ask about it.

Above all, don't be afraid to ask questions, do research or accept advice! New languages can be big and scary things, but don't let that make you shy away. Again, there is nothing wrong with deciding to write ASL the same as you write your English. I've personally found that experimenting with ASL dialogue in stories has aided me in becoming more aware of how to describe everything, from sappy emotional moments to action-packed fighting scenes. Writing ASL has helped me think about new ways to improve my description in more everyday contexts, and I hope it can be a big help to you as well, both in learning about Deaf culture and in pursuing your future writing endeavors. :)

P.S: I am quite literally only dipping my toes into the language and culture. I cannot emphasize how important it is to do your own research if it's someting you're interested in!

P.P.S: I want to apologize for my earlier P.S! What I meant by “I am … dipping my toes into the language and culture” was in direct regards to the post; what I should have said is “this post is only dipping its toes into the language and culture.” While I am not Deaf myself, I am a sophomore in college minoring in ASL and Deaf Culture, and I am steadily losing my hearing. Of course, that does not make me an authority figure on the topic, which is why I strongly encourage you to do your own research, ask your own questions, and consult any Deaf friends, family, or online peers you may have.

[satorusugurugurl]

LATE-NIGHT FOOD WITH GOJO PLEASE ML🥺🥺

2AM Snacks:

Summary: When neither you or Gojo can sleep, you head to the kitchen for some late night fun.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Sweet sugary fluff, suggestiveness, language

Word Count: 2K

A/N: Jndndndndn I love this is was so fun to write Nonnie thanks for the request!

Gojo sighed as he stared at the ceiling, slowly turning his gaze before turning towards the clock. It was one-forty in the morning, and he was wide awake. He wanted to blame it on his missions. Being away from you and in different time zones affected him. But it could just be because he was so used to his regular sleep schedule. Usually, he would get a solid three hours of sleep between lessons for the kids and meetings with the higher-ups. Sleep wasn’t something that came naturally to the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.

That was his life. He was constantly on the move, practically sleep-deprived most of the time, and just trying to make the most out of his life. But then there was you. God, you were perfect. Ever since you found out, he only got three to four hours of sleep. You did your damn best to try to make things easier for him. Whether it be making sure he had food waiting for him at home, helping him with his reports, or just listening to him when he needed to vent.

Every little thing you did helped him in the long run. Some of his stress was eased, and occasionally, he had more than a small amount of sleep. He was so accustomed, too. Being able to hold you to feel some additional ease meant the world to him! You meant the world to him.

While he loved having the chance to sleep in a little longer and spend more time with you, there were still times when he was incapable of relaxing. Gojo‘s mind was often wired. He would toss and turn, flipping his pillow, and do every little trick he knew of to try to sleep. Tonight had been bad, though. Gojo tried kicking the sheets off, turning on his sides, and even counting sheep, but nothing, absolutely nothing, helped with his insomnia.

This is how he found himself staring at the ceiling fan above, which turned at an almost tortured, slow speed. Nights like this were the same nights he would get up and wander to the living room to mindlessly scroll through his phone or watch television, hoping he did not wake you up. Seeing that none of his usual tactics were helping ease him to sleep. Gojo rolled onto his side to slowly crawl out of bed when a hand shot out from underneath the blanket, halting his attempt to leave. The sudden contact made him jump, but when he came to the logical conclusion that it was to glance down at you, he half expected you to be still asleep, only to find you staring at him with those pretty eyes he loved.

“Hey,” he whispered, turning onto his side to face you. “Did I wake you?”

“No.” you pressed your lips together, obviously fighting back grin. “But the parasites did.”

Satoru scoffed, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “The parasites?” You nodded enthusiastically, biting down on your bottom lip. “Okay, why did the parasites wake you up?” Gojo felt the bed shift as you inched closer to him with a mischievous giggle. You are so freaking cute.

“They’re saying they’re hungry.”

“Oh? They’re hungry?” he brought your face closer to his, allowing his nose to brush against yours. “And what are the parasites hungry for?”

Another giggle sounded from the back of your throat, and Gojo resisted the urge to kiss you as hard as he could for being so damn cute. “Cookies.” it was official. You were his dream girl, everything he wanted, and if he could marry you right this minute, he would.

“Alright, let’s go make some cookies.”

“You’re going to help me make cookies?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I can cook, sweetheart.”

Sheets were thrown off, and you both hurried towards the kitchen. You set the oven to three seventy-five while Gojo pulled his phone out, searching for a recipe. The results page barely loaded when you snatched the phone from him and placed it on the counter.

“Hey! I was looking for a delicious recipe for us to make.” He pouted, sticking his bottom lip out.

“We don’t need a recipe online. Not when I have my family's secret recipe memorized.”

Satoru followed you around the kitchen, grabbing sugar, flour, chocolate chips, a chocolate bar, and butter. Watching you intently grab the bowls, spatula, and whisk, Gojo realized how normal this was. It wasn’t often you both could be normal and bake like this without a care in the world. Watching you move around the kitchen with such fluidity at two thirty in the morning had him longing for more normal nights like this.

He was so lovestruck that he almost missed you placing the butter into a saucepan. That was strange; he'd never seen anyone soften butter on the stove. Didn’t people typically soften it in the microwave? All thoughts that you were softening the butter went down the kitchen sink when Gojo witnessed you mixing the butter in the side pan, melting it further.

“Whoa, I may not be a chef, but I think you’re doing that wrong, baby.”

You grin as you feel his arms snake around your waist. “I’m not doing it wrong.” The fresh smell of clean linen and musk melted in with the scent of melting butter. Gojo dropped his chin to rest on your shoulder.

“Uhm, aren’t you supposed to cream it with the sugar?” he paused, turning to press a kiss against your neck. “Oh, and just so you know, I was talking about the cookies, not us. We creamed together earlier.”

Grimacing with a laugh, continuing to stir the melted butter to prevent it from burning. “Eww, please don’t refer to us having sex as creaming ever again.” another kiss was pressed against your neck, and you felt your boyfriend’s chest vibrate with laughter.

“What about creampies? You love those!”

“Toru—!”

“You were begging for one earlier!”

“Oh my god, I’m going to beg you—”

“You begged me so prettily earlier.”

You sighed loudly in defeat, focusing your attention back on the saucepan. “To answer your question before you somehow managed to turn it into some sexual innuendo, I’m not some basic bitch.” laughed out loud, pulling back far enough to admire the egotistical smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I’m making brown butter cookies.”

“Oh~ brown butter cookies, those some tasty! Is there a reason why you’re browning the butter?”

“When you brown butter, it makes it taste delicious. It gives the cookies a nutty taste that is absolutely delicious.”

You weren’t kidding. Gojo held you tight. Watching in, the brother went from yellow to a beautiful golden brown. The sweet, almost nutty smell flooded the kitchen, making his mouth water. You hadn’t even finished putting the cookies together yet. He shuffled around the kitchen with you, making sure to keep a hold on you in some way, shape, or form, whether it be his arms around your waist or his hand and yours. Every step you took was close behind.

He watched you with curious eyes As you put a cup of brown and white sugar into a bowl before adding the deliciously cooked brown butter. Watching you cook was like watching someone do alchemy. He helped you crack a couple of eggs that he put in the bowl, and you threw in salt and vanilla and mixed the wet ingredients. Gojo's mouth was watering when you finally added the dry ingredients, including flour, baking soda, and baking powder.

The cookies looked so good!

“Fuuuck~” he moaned, reaching into the bowl and grabbing a blob of the dough. “They smell so good!” He popped the dough into his mouth before pouring the chocolate chips and chunks into the bowl and mixing it.

“You shouldn’t be eating raw cookie dough like that; that’s how you get salmonella.”

Your boyfriend snatched the ball out of your arms, taking over and stirring it as you grabbed the cookie sheet and lined it with parchment paper. “I’ll have you know I’ve been eating raw you don’t my entire life, and I have never once gotten salmonella.” You shook your head with a soft laugh, making Satoru feel he was there with his limbs turned into melted butter.

“All it takes is one time.”

“Don't you dare put that bad juju on me!”

More laughter flooded the kitchen as you reached into the bowl with your finger, pulling out a scoop of the delicious dough yourself before popping it in your mouth, sucking it off. “There, now we both have salmonella together if it happens.” There was something almost strangely romantic about your declaration. But he hoped you both didn’t get sick of that because how could he hold your pretty hair back if you were hug. It's probably best to hope you both didn’t get sick. But then again, in his twenty-eight years of life, he never got salmonella. So he wasn’t worried.

Besides, the cookies were bound to taste a million times better after they were baked, which took ten minutes. By the time the timer rang from his phone, Gojo was excitedly bouncing. The apartment smelled like his favorite bakery, but this time, you didn’t have to share the cookies with anyone (anyone but you). You both stood over the counter, each holding a cookie that had been cooled off for about two or three minutes.

“Cheers!” you announced, gently tapping your cookie against his own before pulling it apart. “Too late night, munchies!”

Satoru smirked, nodding in agreement as he followed your lead, ripping his cookie in half. “To the parasites that contributed to the delicious pastries in front of us.” You hummed in agreement as you both took big bites of the brown butter cookies.

The second the nutty, sugary taste hit his tongue, Satoru threw his head back with a moan. “Fuuuck!” He stomped his bare foot against the floor, chewing the generous amount he shoved into his mouth. “These are so good!” He shut his eyes, imagining different colors and shapes, and let the cookie flavors linger in his mouth. “I feel like Remy from Ratatouille. I can see the symphony of colors that this cookie embodies.”

“See, I told you.” You laughed out loud, and it was as rich and smooth as the melted chocolate inside of the dozen cookies you made. “Browning the butter works!”

“You were right; I will never doubt you again.”

“Good!”

Gojo leaned against the kitchen island, watching you as you ate more of the cookie still in your hand. Aside from the overhead light over the stove, the lights were out, which just happened to illuminate your pretty features. He stared at you for a long moment, swallowing the last bit of cookie in his mouth. You were everything to him. You took such good care of him, the apartment, and the food you made. But you were also his best friend. Someone who would get up with him at two in the morning to bake cookies when neither of you could sleep.

“And I hope you never doubt that I love you.”

The words were sudden, but they were also heartfelt. “I know, baby; I love you too.” Standing on your tiptoes, you leaned over the counter, pressing a sweet, sugary kiss against his lips.

That night, neither of you got the rest of the sleep that you needed. Instead, you snuggled on the couch, laid your head in his lap, and talked about everything and anything until dawn. The cookies were gone, and there may have been a crumb or two that lingered at the corners of your mouth, but the love that was shared between you both was still visible no matter the time of day it was.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Chan become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (15,7k words)

Author's note: Pls send my birthday wishes to your boyfriend. As always, enjoy and feel free to vent in my inbox :)

CHRIS: Nah, I wouldn't say I'm a playboy [shyly laughs] My best feature? My body [Shows off abs] I'm joking, [laughs] it's my dimples [smiles] I don't have a type. Looks are relative but there has to be a strong physical attraction [Smiles]

-

In this sunny weather, it wouldn't take long for Chan to get some color on his pale skin.

A little tan will help to make his sculpted abs more defined, especially on camera. He's been working out diligently to present his best look for this show.

Lust Island.

What possibly could this show be about? If he should draw any clues from the name of the show itself, he guesses there'll be physical contact involved in a pleasurable way.

The real reason he joined the show is not solely that he wants to get some action. He can get them anytime, anywhere when he wants to.

Bangchan wants to put himself out there and explore things outside of producing music. He wants to push himself out of his comfort zone. By comfort zone, he means his studio.

Once Bangchan puts his swimming trunks on though, he prepares himself, mentally and physically as his name gets called. It's his turn to enter the villa.

When he thinks about it again, it's not the first time he gets to be filmed, and being in front of the camera, there's no use for him to be nervous.

Bangchan laughs at his cowardly thought and puts on a perfect posture, standing straight and broadening his shoulders that are as wide as the Pacific Ocean.

Bangchan is right to be confident about himself because the girls like what they see when he walks in.

There are four of them waiting by the standing table with bottles of champagne in buckets of ice.

The other male guests are no competition to him, a few inches of height difference is nothing when he's confident with his looks.

He goes to introduce himself, giving side hugs to the male and a kiss on the cheek to the female guests. He does his trick to leave a lasting impression by holding their hands and looking them in the eyes as he says his name.

"You can call me Chris," he says with a smile.

She flutters her eyelids at him, a way to get his attention, and says her name, "I'm Lola!"

Lola is a gorgeous, dark-haired girl who speaks like she's half moaning, some men dig it but Chan, not really.

Chan turns to the other female guest and does the same, "Chris," he shortly introduces himself.

"Jane," she introduces back with a thick British accent and it's good to know that he's not the only one who owns pale skin.

"Love the accent," she says with a smile that showcases her perfect white teeth.

"Likewise," he immediately replies and grabs himself a glass of wine.

-

CHRIS: This is the first I have been surrounded by this many beautiful people in one place.

-

To say that he's not the slightest bit attracted would be a lie.

But there are only two of them for now and there'll be more to come, hopefully, there'll be one that attracts him. For now, there's not enough attraction.

However, Lola is refilling his glass without him asking and checking him up and down, doing it not so subtly only tells him that she's attracted to him.

"Thank you," he mutters and has a toast with her.

Two more female guests are entering the villa, one is a stunning blonde with dazzling blue eyes and the other is a tall goddess with golden skin.

The boys are howling in excitement as the selection has expanded. Chan, trapped in the corner with Lola, waves his hand at them.

The blond girl approaches her to hug him, "I'm Dani."

"Chris," he introduces with a smile.

"Australian, huh?" She guesses.

"Guilty!" He says, "What about you?"

"I'm Spanish," she answers which explains the sheer accent in her English, and proceeds to say something in her native language to him.

Once again, Chan doesn't have a type but hearing Dani speak in Spanish does something to him.

"You have no idea what I'm saying, right?" She asks with a flirtatious smile.

"Not at all," he honestly answers and bursts into laughter.

-

CHRIS: Dani is undeniably gorgeous and so is Alicia, so is Lola, so is Jane... [chuckles]

-

Another two male guests enter and one of them is sucking all of the female's attention with a nice body, nice teeth, and a height that Chan doesn't have. But he wouldn't let it belittle him. Physical appearance is nothing without skill and Chan has both.

Everyone is waiting for the last guest to arrive and his glass is magically full again, he turns to the side to see Lola smiling at her.

Chan takes the bottle from her to refill her glass for her, he gets interrupted by the loud cheer of everyone welcoming the last guest into the villa.

"Hi, you sexy bunch!" You greet.

The guy standing next to him, who he believes his name is Iain, puts his hand on his shoulder and gushes at the sight of you, "Man, she's so hot!"

Chan agrees with him. He notices the confident strides and a scintillating smile, he likes seeing those things on a girl.

You start going around, introducing yourself with a cheek-to-cheek kiss at the end of the introduction. When it gets to his turn, Chan is already prepared to impress you.

You lean in close as you ask his name, "Hi, what's your name?"

Chan is gobsmacked by the strong eye contact you're making with him, making him lose his train of thought for a while.

"Chris," he answers.

You let out a soft laugh and lean in closer, "Sorry, can you tell me again?"

He understands that you can't really hear him with everyone chatting to each other all at once mixed with the sound of the waves crashing in the background.

It comes to his advantage to lean in close to your ear and tell him his name, "It's Chris."

"Nice to meet you, Chris!" You say but instead of a cheek-to-cheek kiss, you put your hand around his neck and pull him for a quick hug.

The hug only lasts for a few seconds but he's happy with what he got. He agrees that physical appearance doesn't matter much but your body, oh... it's enough to send his mind wanders so far off from his head.

"Gorgeous!" He calmly beams, it sounds strange because it doesn't match the excitement he has when he looks at you.

Chan doesn't want to come on strong on the first meeting, he knows that he has a lot of time to get to know you and vice versa.

"Thank you," you mutter with a smile.

-

CHRIS: Bright eyes, cute smile... I think I finally found my type. [Grins]

-

Chan hurriedly grabs the bottle of champagne the second he sees you grab a glass. He delightfully fills your glass with the bubbly wine.

"What a gentleman!" You exclaim with a smile.

He fills the glass just right to not overflow it, "The bar is that low, huh?"

You lift the glass but not taking a sip yet, "I usually go for the bad boys," you share.

Chan is aware that he doesn't have the typical look of a bad guy, that would be Jace with his sleeve tattoos and pierced eyebrow. He feels the need to show you that sometimes what's inside doesn't match with the exterior.

He fiercely looks at you and refills his glass next, "I don't look like one?"

You seem to hesitate to give him an honest answer, "Oh, well..."

Chan tips his head to the side and holds intense eye contact with you, "I can be bad if I want to."

"Yeah?" You say with a tone that sounds a little condescending to him.

That only motivates him to prove you wrong but he keeps his calm and shrugs in response.

You bring your glass close to your mouth and ask, "How bad?"

He grins and runs his tongue along the front row of his teeth, he takes a sip of his wine to make you wait for an answer.

"Why don't you find out?" He dares you with a sly smile.

One corner of your mouth raises higher than the other, forming a killer smirk on your face. You clink your glass with him and say, "Can't wait to find out!"

-

CHRIS: The eyes, Gosh! There was so much eye contact, it feels like a foreplay already [laughs]

-

Chan has no clue how the show is going to play out.

Is everyone going to mingle with each other and be free to do whatever they want for the next 30 days? It's possible because everyone is of age and signed the same contracts but he doubts it'll be that easy. It's a TV show, there's always a catch.

The day continues with a tour around the villa, everyone has seen the swimming pools and the small workout area down the beach so it's time to check inside.

Weirdly, everyone is excited about sharing the bedroom, probably because there are five beds and there are ten of them which means, everyone has to find a bed partner.

Chan's eyes dart at you who's sitting on the other bed with Luke, leaning back with your elbows propped against the mattress.

"Oh, it’s nice and quiet," Luke says, testing the bed by rocking it.

You're laughing as your hands fly to your chest, stopping your breasts from bouncing along with the bed.

While everyone else is joining in on the waves of laughter, Chan is busy assessing who else has their eyes on you. Iain is an easy guess but you'll go for someone like Jace, so he has to keep an eye on him too.

-

CHRIS: My eyes are set on a girl and uh... it's hard not to look at her so I refuse– [laughs] I refuse to share a bed with anyone else but her.

-

The boys are gathered on the beach and Chan doesn't know for what reason. He sits on the wooden bench next to Pierre with his blonde hair shining under the bright sun.

"Okay, let's cut the chit-chat!" Jace says.

His tattoed index finger is pointing at Luke, "You go first. Who's your number one?"

"Dani. Absolutely, Dani," Luke answers without a beat, and that only shows how keen he is to win her.

It's an open war, Chan reckons but it's good to know who he's up against so he can set a strategy and try to win.

It's Iain's turn and he simply answers, "Dani!"

So that means Chan's guess is incorrect yet it doubts him if Iain has no interest in you.

Sitting next to him, Pierre answers, "Alicia!"

Pierre then uneasily glances at Luke as he also chooses the same girl with him, "But also, Dani."

Luke scoffs at him and says, "She's cute, I know."

"Please, stop glaring at me!" Pierre jokingly says.

So far, there are three votes for Dani and that's not a surprise, she's one hell of an attractive girl, it just happens that she's not quite caught his attention like you do.

Pierre nudges Chan with his elbow, "Your turn, Chris!"

Chan confidently announces your name as his first choice and says it with a tint of possessiveness as if you were already his. He wants to let them know that he's going for what he wants and no one is going to get in between.

"What do you guys think of Lola?" Jace asks with a shit-eating grin.

Despite the tattoos that cover most of his back and chest, Jace is grinning as he asks everyone about his choice of girl.

"Lola is... Lola is cute," Chan says while rubbing his hands together in front of him.

Pierre agrees with him and nods, "Yeah, she's cute."

"I like Lola," Jace coyly admits.

Jace claps his hands together and points at the three men who are going for the same girl, "I see we have three men in a competition for Dani," he says.

Luke half-heartedly agrees, "The three of us are different so..."

It's a relief that Chan doesn't have any competition or that's what it seems, but he gets curious about the three men.

"Are you guys comfortable stepping on each other's toes?" He asks in pure curiosity.

"As long as Pierre doesn't step on me," Iain chimes in with a laugh, "Just look at his feet!"

All of them burst into laughter as Pierre lifts both feet into the air, showing everyone how big they are. He's a basketball player so that explains but Chan indeed doesn't want to be stepped on by those feet.

-

CHRIS: I say good luck and... may the best man win.

-

There's time left until everyone has to get ready for the welcome party tonight.

Chan can't relax yet just because he's the only one going after you. Two out of those three men will eventually have to choose another girl and he can't just leave it to luck, he needs to make some moves.

He goes to the dressing room only to find Lola and Jane in there, talking while fixing their make-up. Chan feels like interrupting so he goes to the bathroom next even though he's not sure he'll find you there.

He was too haste to think so, he finds you there leaning close to the mirror and dabbing lip balm on your plump lips. The shape your body takes as you bend over the sink, oh... he reminds himself to calm down.

"Hi," he sweetly greets you.

You see him through the reflection in the mirror and greet him back, "Hi!"

He walks over to the sink and leans his side against it, "How are you?"

You slowly turn to the side facing him while capping the tube of lip balm in your hand, "I'm good, great. You?

"Never been better," he answers.

You softly smile and put the lip balm back into a pouch, "So... What do you think going to happen tonight?"

The possibilities are endless but Chan settles on the simplest answer that fits his agenda, "What's going to happen is you and I share a bed."

You crack a low laugh and put one hand against the sink, "You want us to share a bed?"

But what he needs to hear is your answer, "What do you think?"

You consider it for a moment then say, "We'll see."

That's not an answer he wants, it's not even close to enough. Sure, Chan can play it cool but that's not who he is. Returning from the depth of his thoughts, he notices that you're checking him out from head to toe and doing it not so subtly.

Your eyes travel down his body and the next minute, you trap him in your eyes again.

"Are those real?"

"What?" He asks in confusion.

"Those abs," you say with a shy laugh.

He likes a confident girl but seeing you getting shy is endearingly cute.

"Who knows? It could be cake?!" You joke.

"Pinch it then!" He playfully dares you.

You hesitate for a moment, then gently put your fingertips on the sculpted muscles on his stomach and gasp in awe, "I can't even pinch it."

Keep running your fingertips on his skin and you playfully say, "It's so hard."

Standing this close to you with your hands on me is doing things to him. Chan swallows air and tries to keep it cool, "If you keep feeling my abs, I'm afraid it won't be the only thing that's hard."

You giggle yet you run your fingers down his abdomen, only stopping when they meet the waistband of his swimming trunks. He gets the urge to touch you in return and without needing to command, his hand automatically flies to your waist.

In this proximity, he can smell the fruity scent of your lip balm, sweet and enticing, making him want to taste it on your lips.

"Are you a good kisser?" He asks with his voice suddenly turning lower.

You slightly tilt your head to the side and flutter your eyelashes at him, "Why don't you find out?"

It's so attractive of you to say those words back to him in a low, sultry voice and make them weapons to weaken him. Just so you know, it works.

Chan bites his lower lip, impatient to crash them against yours. He puts his hand on the arch of your back, then slowly leans in closer, closer...

The sound of people coming to the bathroom shatters the moment, you laugh it off and gently push him away, "Try again later," you tell him.

You stop by the doorway and turn to look at him to add, "Only if you're lucky."

-

CHRIS: That! Right there! That's my type. [Nodding]

-

The boys are going down to the beach where the party is held.

The theme is Welcome to The Jungle and he dressed as his spirit animal, wolf. He shouldn't feel silly as everyone is also dressed in animal costumes.

The boys each take a glass of drink to fuel up for the night. Jace is the one leading by raising his glass high in the air, "Let's have some fun tonight!" He shouts.

Everyone else is following suit, raising their drinks high in the air and having a toast,

The contestants are only allowed to have three drinks max in one day so Chan doesn't need to worry about getting drunk. one drink is already enough to give him the courage to make a move on you tonight.

"There they are!" Luke says, pointing to the girls making their way down the stairs that lead to the beach.

Chan spots you right away, dressed in a costume of a bird with colorful fur and a pair of majestic wings. Suddenly, he feels like flying toward you.

He couldn't be any faster to get to your side and compliment you, "You're so beautiful!"

You brightly smile and make a pose for him, "Do you like it?"

"Spin for me!" He orders.

You do what he says, spinning on your feet and giggling as you almost stumble on your own foot.

Chan offers his hand to help you steady yourself and grins, "One beautiful love bird, aren't you?"

-

CHRIS: I'm on the hunt tonight! [Howls] [Laughs]

-

The music starts playing and everyone gets together in the middle, either dancing or drinking, or both. Chan can't keep his hands off of you ultimately because he was so close to getting a taste of it.

But that's okay, he likes playing this game of push and pull with you. He may have let you out of his arms but never out of his sight, you're only going as far as he let you.

Everyone is excited, a little tipsy, and sexually charged just in time to continue with a game. Lola takes the center and explains how the game works.

"Since we're all dressed like the animals we are..." she gets interrupted by Jace as he roars and bangs on his chest like the animal costume he's wearing.

"Each one of you will take turns to stand here then do your mating call and if any of you animals is attracted," she pauses to look at everyone before continuing, "You can kiss, bite, grab... whatever you want to do!"

It's an easy game to play and everyone is more than ready to answer some mating calls. Since Lola has taken the spot, she plays with her bunny ears and cutely hops on her feet like a rabbit but mewling like a cat.

Chan turns to Jace who's making eyes at her, crawling and walking like the animal he is dressed in, he playfully climbs her body and kisses her neck.

The others are responding with cheers and hoots, watching them going at each other's faces in front of them. It gets everyone impatient to take their turn.

The game is heating when Dani takes her turn, he can see that the three men in competition are getting ready to take their chance to kiss her and perhaps, try to be the best kisser of all.

Dani doesn't do a mating call of sorts, she just stands there and simply says, "Come and get it!"

Pierre dashes to get to her first and earns the first smooch, Iain and Luke are steadily waiting for their turn to kiss. While everyone else is enjoying the raunchy moment, Chan prepares himself because your turn is next. His eyes are following you as you walk to the appointed spot and turn to face everyone, you're laughing in giddy before trying to whistle as loud as you can.

Chan immediately gets up from his seat, but he hears a terrible lion roar from the other direction and sees Iain make his way to you.

He knows Iain still has an interest in you, but this will be his first and the last kiss he gets from you. He glares at Iain as he walks back to his seat.

Ignoring the rage inside him, Chan puts on his vicious eyes and shows his teeth, taking you by surprise as he sinks his teeth into your right breast, then your neck, and finally, your lips.

Iain kind of ruined this first kiss moment but Chan reminds himself that he'll not let anything get in the way of what he wants and this is what he wants. He holds your face with both hands and presses his lips on yours, he greedily kisses you and tugs your lips between his teeth before letting go.

Jace howls the loudest for him as Chan returns to his seat with a triumphant smile, he can taste the win on your lips, he can tell you fancy him more than Iain.

Chan finally takes his turn after Luke and he knows what he needs to do, he's going to howl like a wolf calling for you. He looks at you and says, "Come on!"

You're slyly smiling at him, pretending not to want to come forward but he knows, he knows you want to.

"I know you want it," He fiercely says, addressing you with his eyes.

You get up and break into running at him, not stopping until your body crashes into him in which he gladly welcomes you into his arms.

This is his chance to redo the first kiss so he kisses you, a little gentler than the previous one yet with the same passion. He puts his hands around your waist and without letting go of the kiss, he hoists you, then wraps your legs around his waist.

You yelp in surprise, but that only allows him to slip his tongue into your mouth and kiss you deeper as he holds you tightly.

"I'm going to take this bird home," he says after the.

Chan carries you back to your seat like the winning prize you are. He then silently glances at Iain with a bragging smile plastered on his face.

-

CHRIS: That's right, everyone. Kindly take your hands off of her because she's mine!

-

A lady walks in and Chan assumes she's the host of the show. She smiles and waves at everyone before talking, "Is everyone having fun?"

Everyone answers with a loud cheer and whistles, showing the host a lot of excitement. They're partying, drinking and they got to grab or bite or kiss, nothing to complain about.

"Okay, okay, I hear you all!" She responds with a knowing laugh.

She claps her hands together and turns on her feet to show a big box behind her, "If you look here, I have a surprise..."

Everyone is cooing in curiosity at the sight of it. Looking at the size of the box, it's safe to say that it fits a person inside.

The host has to wait for everyone to calm down to continue talking, "I am excited to announce that we have a surprise visit to start the show and make it special!"

Jace is whooping the loudest while the girls are whispering, wildly guessing by throwing famous people into the sentences.

"Are you ready to take the party to the next level?" She asks everyone.

"YEAH!!!" Everyone collectively answers.

"Okay then!" She flicks her fingers as a cue, then steps aside.

-

CHRIS: Whatever it is. Whoever it is. I'm ready. Give it to me!

-

Chan turns to look at you and asks, "What do you think?"

You shake your head and grin in excitement, "I don't know but it's exciting!"

Everyone is craning their necks and waiting in anticipation as they turn the lights around the box for a dramatic entrance. The door of the box is swinging opening little by little, it's dark to see what's inside, and then the thing inside lights up and chimes.

"OH! FUCK NO!!!" Dani screams and covers her face with both hands.

Chan turns to the side to look at you and you look as devastated as Dani, "You got to be kidding me!" You mutter under your breath.

He looks around and it seems like he's the only one who doesn't get a grasp of what's truly happening. He looks at the cone inside the box again and confusingly asks, "Is that... a speaker?"

You shake your head and whine, "No... It's Lana!"

Lana who? And why is everyone looking either mad or devastated? Would it be embarrassing if he told everyone that he doesn't watch TV or streaming movies like most people?

"Hello and welcome to the retreat!" The cone speaks which Chan has just learned is named Lana.

"You have been specially selected because you are all choosing meaningless sex over genuine relationships," she continues.

Luke gets offended and coughs, "Welp. She's not wrong."

"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper emotional connections in your personal relationships."

Lola brushes her hair to the back in frustration and groans, "But I don't want that!"

"As always, there are conditions to your stay here. You must abstain from sexual practices for the entirety of your stay."

It takes Chan a minute to process that. On the contract it says that he'll spend a month shooting the show, he does the math in his head and his mouth hangs open.

"Nah, nah, nah," Pierre repeatedly chants in denial.

Lana continues with a list of things everyone can't do in the retreat, "No kissing."

You drop your head on his shoulder at the mention of that and mewl.

"No heavy petting."

Jace drops onto his knees and rests his head on Lola's knee.

"No sex of any kind."

His ears perked and his head snaps in your direction, he gets why you're devastated because now he's just as devastated.

"This also applies to self-gratification."

Jace groans like he's in indescribable pain with his head tilts up looking at the night sky.

"What does that mean?" Jane innocently asks.

"No masturbating," Chan answers to her since everyone else is too busy mourning on their own.

"No–No flicking the beans, you mean?" She asks with eyes widening in horror.

Chan nods in sympathy and he can feel the agony already. He surely can pass a month without having sex but not getting a release from touching his own body, that's the sadistic part of it all.

-

CHRIS: I never... I don't think I can go for weeks without— [drops head] [sighs]

-

"I don't think I can do it," You mutter to him with a painful smile.

Jace is being dramatic once again by saying, "I want to call my mom and tell her to come pick me up."

The tattoos and piercings on his body aren't really reflecting Jace's inner self. It shows an example that a true bad boy doesn't necessarily have to look like it.

Lana cuts off everyone's moans and groans with further announcements.

"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000."

That gets everyone in spirit again and Jace immediately sits back on his seat next to Lola, "Cancel it. No need to call my mom!" He shouts at no one.

With that much money, Chan starts to think of things he can buy with it, some producing kits, a new sofa for his studio, and a recording mic he's been wanting to buy. His train of thought is derailed when Lana continues talking.

"Each time the rules are broken, money will be deducted from the prize fund."

Okay, that's so presumptuous of Chan to think that he'll win that money remembering that he's in a retreat with other horny people. There's no way that the amount of money will stay the same at the end of the retreat.

"Welcome to the retreat!" Lana concludes and leaves with another chime.

-

CHRIS: I met Lana and I understand why everyone is fuming [Laughs]

-

The night takes a hard turn and ends the party for good.

To give the girls time to change because they need more time with the make-up and costumes, the boys are lounging outside by the terrace.

"Oh, there she is!" Iain points at the cone that is now put in every corner of the villa.

Luke leans into the cone and commands, "Lana, go away!"

Chan bursts into laughter and leans back in his seat, "Dude, she's not Siri!"

Pierre is too big to sit on the armrest of the sofa, Chan makes a space for him and tells him to sit there.

"Who's going to sleep with who?"

The three competing guys are looking at each other, it's still unclear which one of them Dani is going to choose.

"Why don't we let them choose?" Jace calmly says that he knows for sure that Lola is going to sleep with him.

And Chan has nothing to worry about because he knows you're going to choose him.

The boys take their pick of bed and Chan chooses the one in the corner next to the big window. He's lying on the bed with hands tucked behind his head, waiting for the girls to come into the bedroom and choose their bed partner.

Alicia comes first and she seems to have made up her mind on the bed next to him which is Pierre's bed.

Chan turns to the side and says, "Nice one, bro!"

Pierre gives him a fistbump as a sign of victory and makes space on the bed for Alicia.

Lola is the next one and it's just what he expected, she jumps onto Jace's bed in which Jace enthusiastically waits with his open arms.

The time he's been waiting for is here, he sees you coming into the bedroom dressed in a cropped white top and shorts.

You're still beautiful to him with a bare face and your hair is down, his heart is beating faster and faster as you make your way to his bed.

Chan takes his hands away from under his head as you climb onto the bed, then pats the space between his legs, "Come here, baby!"

You crawl to him and sit where he asked you to, between his legs with your back resting against his chest. Chan wastes no time to cage you in his big arms, then buries his nose in your neck to drink in your heavenly scent.

His hand accidentally brushes over your breasts and despite that it's accidental, he can see that you're not wearing a bra underneath.

"I usually sleep naked," he shares with you.

You slightly turn your head to the side to meet his eyes, "Me too."

Chan, having not yet processed that he's in a sex retreat is not aware that information will most likely do him no good.

"Are you a good cuddler?" You ask.

He nuzzles his nose into your hair, "Oh, you're in for a treat!"

You comfortably rest your head on his shoulder as he slips his fingers into your hands and intertwines them together, resting them on your stomach afterward.

It suddenly turns quiet when Dani enters the bedroom and Chan is enjoying the drama about to unfold in front of him. He and Pierre exchange glances at each other. Now that Pierre has dropped out of the competition, that leaves Dani with two options left, Luke or Iain.

But it's clear that Dani has come to a decision to share the bed with Luke as she casually gets on his bed, "I'll sleep here," she says.

That leaves Iain with no choice but to sleep with Jane.

"Goodnight everyone!" Jace sweetly says to everyone in the room the second the lights are off.

It's a long day and he's still processing everything that happened but it's all worth it because now, he's sleeping next to you.

Chan puts his hand on your waist and pulls you close until your back meets his chest. He likes how your body molds perfectly into his and you snuggle more against his body, your ass rubbing against his crotch. Intentionally or not, he'll eventually get hard because of you.

You put your hand on his jaw and softly kiss his cheek, "Goodnight!"

He places a long kiss on your cheek in return, "Goodnight!" He says, adding a quick kiss on your shoulder after.

-

CHRIS: I don't even know if I'd be able to sleep next to a hot girl and not do anything. [Shakes head]

-

It's morning but the lights aren't on yet.

Chan makes use of the absence of light by cuddling you under the cover, putting his hand around you, and pressing kisses on your bare shoulder, then down your arm.

He hears you humming then softly rubbing your hand on his forearm.

Chan puts his mouth close to your ear, "You're awake?"

You don't say anything but lowly hum as his hand glides down your thigh and gently squeezes on the flesh. Then you turn your head at him and with eyes still closed, you lowly speak, "Nice."

He quietly laughs because you're slurring your words, "What?" He asks.

You turn your head around to whisper it to him so everyone else can't hear it, "Your morning wood."

Chan completely forgot about it but it's too late to hide it, you're probably been feeling his morning wood poking at your ass cheek for a while now. He takes his hand away from your thigh and rests it on your stomach.

"Now I kind of want to see it," you playfully say with a sly smile.

"Mmh... don't worry, you'll see," he seductively whispers to you.

Thankfully, the lights are on and Chan has time to tame his morning wood before he has to start the day.

The cone perched on the small glass table lights up and chimes, "Good morning, everyone!"

It only reminds Chan of the torment he puts himself in. He chooses to stay lying on his bed while you sit against the headboard of the bed with his hand resting on your thigh.

"A reminder that you're no longer in Lust Island and this is the first day of your retreat. Enjoy!" Lana keeps his morning greeting brief yet painful.

Luke groans with a pillow covering his face, "This is like... a nightmare."

Sure, it's hard to stay sexless for a whole month but to say this a nightmare when he sleeps next to a beautiful girl like you, Chan disagrees.

The day starts with working out at the beach with Pierre and he's doing his last rep of push-ups when Jace joins them. He's picking up a dumbbell and groans even before he picks it up.

"I don't know about you but I couldn't sleep much last night," Jace says.

Pierre laughs at him, "Wait, wait, are you—"

"Nah," Jace instantly denies, "I'm just waiting for someone to break the rule first."

Chan sits on the mat with his body coated in sweat, "I bet my money on Luke."

Pierre and Jace hoots at the same time, then slapping each other's chests, "Oh, yeah, damn!"

"Don't you laugh! You're close on second, Jace!" Chan says to him, almost falling over to the back as he laughs.

The hilarity ensues even after Jace starts lifting his dumbbells while standing, facing the vast blue sea.

"What about you, Aussie boy?" He asks.

Chan shields his eyes from the sun with his hand, "What about me?"

Jace shoots him a sly smirk, "Hey, I know, I see everything."

"Oh, yes, yes, he's all over her," Pierre eggs in just to tease him.

Chan glares at him and points his finger at him, "Watch out. I'm sleeping next to you!"

Pierre holds in his laughter, "I won't tell if you don't tell."

Everyone's curiosity is about to get fulfilled as Lana calls everyone to gather in the cabana. Seeing you for the first time after this morning, looking so stunning in a black bikini.

He sits right next to you at the end of the curved sofa with Lana already sitting right in the center of the wooden table.

"I'm nervous," Lola says, even though Lana hasn't come online yet.

Then comes the melodic chime and everyone gets tensed all at once. Seeing everyone nervous, makes Chan nervous too so he puts his arm around you to comfort him.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana begins.

There are various answers but everyone is half-heartedly replying to her.

"You were brought here to form deeper emotional connections and last night, you were given strict rules to adhere to."

Lana sounds not pleased and Chan wonders if anyone has broken the rules yet. He knows for sure that you and him are not breaking any so he scans to spot any guilty faces.

"Those rules forbid sexual contact of any kind. Regrettably, a few minutes later there was a breach of the rules," Lana informs.

"Ooh..." A few people coo in response.

Chan continues his search for guilty faces, his bet is still on Luke but it could be anyone.

"Does this mean it was last night?" Jane asks, looking the most innocent out of the bunch.

Jace slyly laughs and looks at everyone, "Okay, so, who did it?"

Now Chan is not the only one on the hunt for the guilty ones. Everyone is trying to see what is not visible to the naked eye.

Not long after, the first culprit starts to show herself. Dani is shaking her leg too much and trying not to look everyone in the eyes. The calm on her face gradually falters with each passing second.

"You're smiling," Pierre points out and everyone's attention is turned to her.

Dani can't keep her calm anymore and decides to come clean, "Yeah, it was me."

"Oh, shit!" Jace yells, representing everyone else in the group.

"With whom?" Lola asks.

Dani shakes her head, "I'm not going to name names," she says with a cryptic smile.

Now everyone is wondering who kissed Dani between Luke and Iain, the whole thing turns into a detective game. Who kissed Dani?

"Nope. It's not me," Iain confesses right away and the suspicion is directed at the last person left on the list.

Everyone is only waiting for Luke to admit it and you shift on your seat as immersed in the moment as...

"It was me," you come forward with your hand raised.

It takes him more than a moment to collect himself and convince himself that he heard it right. You have just confessed as the one who kissed Dani last night.

Jace jolts in his seat, "WHAT?"

Pierre leans at Chan and exclaims, "Wow!"

You look at everyone and apologize, "I'm sorry. I don't know... I just didn't think that we'd get caught," you explain.

As you're about to sit back, you turn your head in the direction of Luke, "I'm sorry for being the first to kiss Dani," you specifically apologize to him.

-

CHRIS: She kissed Dani... [Chuckles] I like that shit [pinches the bridge of his nose]

-

"This breach of the rules has cost the group $3,000," Lana announces, reminding everyone that there's prize money to protect.

"The prize fund now stands at $197,000."

Chan is getting more pessimistic that there'll be any money left at the end of the retreat. With everyone knowing that someone has broken the rules, it's only about time that everyone takes their turn to do it.

Personally, Chan doesn't care about the money, he has enough but that doesn't mean he will act selfishly by breaking the rules. The word 'selfish' isn't what he wants to be associated with him.

Also, it's not his money in the first place, it's everyone's money, therefore he can't waste money without thinking of the group.

You squeeze yourself into the small sofa he's sitting in and put your hand around him, "Hi," you softly say with a smile.

He looks at you and puts your leg over his knee, putting his hand on the back of your thigh, "Hi!"

You put your hand on the nape of his neck where the beads of water are dripping from the end of his hair from swimming.

"You look good wet," you tell him.

Chan brushes his hair to the back and looks at you, "You look better wet," he says with a sly grin.

It's hard being this close to you and not kissing you. Chan has to actively tell his brain to not give in to the temptations even though it's sitting right on his lap.

"Are you mad?" You ask.

He reckons you're asking about the kiss you did with Dani, "How can I be mad at that?" he asks back.

You laugh in response, "Yeah?"

He rests his head to look up at you, "That's just so hot," he replies.

You put your other hand around him and look into his eyes, entrapped him in your mesmerizing gaze.

Chan's plan is simple: Try not to act selfishly.

Then you happened. You kissed Dani, the most popular girl in the retreat, and then you openly admitted it to everyone. That only shows you have no problem breaking the rules, and added the fact that you're so attractive to him making a lethal combination that would likely lead Chan to act against his plan.

-

CHRIS: She's not only too hot to handle. I'm afraid, she's also a lot to handle [grins] but in the best way.

-

To make everyone connect emotionally rather than physically, Lana has set up a workshop in the front yard of the villa.

Everyone is paired up for it and he, of course, is your partner, he expects nothing less than it. Except that Iain gets the chance to be with Dani in this workshop.

A sex expert has been invited to lead the workshop, "Today, we're going to learn about restraint," she announces.

She walks to the center and looks at everyone as she speaks, "This workshop is about learning to slow down, there's so much more to intimacy and physical connections aside from sex."

Today's lesson is exploring each other's erogenous zones, to find the parts of our bodies that are sensitive to sexual stimulation. Chan has no idea if it would help him think less about sex because it seems like it's going to do the opposite to him.

There's a selection of equipment to help, there are feathers, roses, whips, and even melted chocolate on a bowl. You take the first turn, laying on your stomach on the thin mattress so he can start his exploration.

To begin, Chan only wants to use his hand to trace the curve of your body, feeling every inch of your skin with his fingertips.

You look over your shoulder as his hand climbs up your spine and stops at the nape of your neck only to drag his knuckle down your back.

"You're so soft," he murmurs as he puts your hair away from covering your neck.

You flash him a sly smile and hum, "Mmh..."

He takes a feather from the basket and begins to touch your body with it, finding the special spots that make you whimper or squirm.

Or giggle, just like you're doing right now as he tickles your ankle with the feather, "Tickles?"

You nod with your teeth faintly biting your lower lip.

"Turn over for me, please?" He says to you.

You obey and lay on your back, propping both elbows against the mattress to see that Chan has picked up a rose now.

Chan starts at the neck this time, softly touching you with the rose. He notices you lowly humming as he glides it down your chest and the petals are making a trail down your front. Yet he keeps dragging down your inner thigh and you lowly moan.

"Tickles?"

"Uh-huh."

He brings it close to your clothed core, "Right here?"

You're looking him in the eyes as you reply, "Yes."

"Self control and restraint. Two essential parts of today's lesson!" The expert reminds everyone not to get overboard with their explorations.

Before he takes his turn, he takes a dollop of chocolate and smears it across your sternum. Slowly, he leans down to lick it off of you with his slick, hot tongue.

He can hear your stifled breath and your chest heaving as he sucks on the skin on your breast. He finishes with a kiss on your neck and a triumphant smile on his face.

-

CHRIS: Looking at her laying there and being so sensitive under my touch oh... [hisses] [exhales]

-

The nervousness gets to him when he lays down on the mattress and puts his hands under his head, surrendering his body because it's time for you to explore now.

You crawl over his body to get the whip from the basket and he guesses, you intentionally pressing on his crotch as you look down on him with the whip in your hand.

"I haven't started but your ears are already getting red," you tell him.

Chan tries to stay calm and closes his eyes for a while to finally come up with a response, "It's the sun."

You laugh at that and begin your exploration by touching his body with the leather whip, without warning, slapping it on his skin.

"How about that?" You lowly ask.

"Not bad," he coyly answers.

You get off his body and lay next to him while the whip is continuing its journey down his body, heading close to his clothed member and again, slapping him on his thigh without warning.

"Harder?" You ask.

But before he can answer, you're slapping on the other thigh, earning a low groan out of him. Without looking, he knows that his ears are getting even redder at this moment.

On his pale skin, you can see the marks you made from whipping him, and decides to switch it to feather. You're looking at him while you're teasing his neck with the feather, he can't lie that his ears are one of his sensitive parts. The hair on his arms stands up as you rub the feather on his ear shell.

"You're so cute," you breathlessly whisper, putting his weakness to your advantage.

He can only look at you and hope that he doesn't fall apart under your touch. You take the bowl of melted chocolate, then sit on his crotch, earning a moan out of him.

You flash him a grin that hints you're up to no good. He watches as you pour the chocolate onto his abs and pick a strawberry, dipping it on the chocolate on his abs before tugging it between your teeth and feeding it to him.

Doing it carefully to not accidentally break the rules, Chan takes a bite of the strawberry without his lips touching yours then you shove the rest of it into your mouth and chew on it.

He assumes that you have done as you sit back on the mattress, you hold his body down with your hand on his chest.

"Nuh-uh! I'm not finished yet," you tell him.

He wonders what else you're trying to do but that's the pleasure of not knowing. He sees you ducking your head onto his stomach to lick the chocolate on his abs.

Your tongue makes a long strip of lick up his abs and another long strip down on the next, you clean the rest in kitten licks, making the best of your time to torture him as his ears are about to explode at how red and hot they are, he lies when he said it's because of the sun.

Chan notices the smear of chocolate on your upper lip, "Come here!" He gestures for you to come close to his face.

You crawl and hover over his body, you stay still as he cleans it for you by licking it. It's not a rule break since it's only his tongue that makes contact with your lips.

"How'd it taste?"

"So, so sweet," he answers.

Sadly, the workshop is over. They know that if they let it on for too long, it's going to turn into one massive orgy.

"Self-control is very difficult but I hope that you can take something out of this workshop and practice it in the retreat," the expert concludes at the end of the workshop.

-

CHRIS: I learned that she's sensitive on her ankle, her neck, her chest, and I... can't wait to touch her all over again [Chuckles]

-

There's a lot of seats on the sofa but you choose to sit on his lap. Not that he minds about it, he just can't trust himself when you're this close, especially dressed in a skin-tight outfit that enhances every curve of your body.

You loop an arm around his neck and the other hand is holding a drink, your eyes are always locked in a gaze with him.

"Do you play any sports?"

"Soccer, bowling... uh, pool?" Chan lists the sports he's been playing recently.

You put your drink away so you can use both hands to feel his shoulder blades, "Which sport got you these broad shoulders?"

Chan takes a small sip of his drink before putting it away, "I believe that's from swimming," he answers.

He puts his hand on your thigh with his thumb mindlessly rubbing on the skin as he talks, "I took part in a few swimming competitions in high school."

"Ooh..." you coo in awe, "So, you're good at swimming."

Chan nonchalantly shrugs, then grins, showing his dimples at you.

"What is your best style?"

"Freestyle, butterfly," he casually answers.

"How about breaststroke?" You ask with a seductive smile.

"I'm the best," he answers even though it's kind of vague if you're still talking about swimming style or a different kind of stroke.

It's hard to keep the conversation casual with you, he can't blame you though. It's impossible not to think about sex when he's with you.

"I want to learn the breaststroke from you," you playfully say with a flirtatious gaze.

"How about a private swimming lesson?" He spontaneously comes up with an idea.

With his recent discovery that the back of your thigh is sensitive, he puts his hand there as he says, "I'm going to teach all kinds of strokes."

-

CHRIS: I just can't keep my head straight when I'm with her. There's just a lot of sexual tension, it's unbearable [sighs]

-

While everyone else is getting ready for bed, you change into a swimsuit and meet him at the swimming pool. You sit on the edge to take off the mic to not risk it getting wet and damage it, then jump into the pool afterward.

It is supposed to be a swimming lesson but Chan pushes you to the wall and cages you between his arms. You don't seem to mind it though but Chan is unaware of the danger he trapped himself in.

"I think there'll be lots of rule breaks tonight," you say.

Chan glides his hand down to your waist and holds you there, "Well, thanks to you!" He pokes fun at you.

You chuckle at that and put your arms around his shoulders, "What about you?"

You put your hand on his pec and hypnotizing eyes that look right into his soul, "Are you going to break rules?"

You lean in close and graze his nose with the tip of your nose, "Are you going to be good or bad tonight, mmh?"

Chan brushes his hair to the back before diving it back into the water and lifts your leg by the back of your thigh to hook it around him.

He brings his face close to your side and lowly whispers, "Is that what you want?"

You tip your head to the other side, enticing him with your exposed neck, "Mmh, yeah..."

The beads of water trickling down the column of your neck make him give in to the temptation and plant a kiss on the skin behind your ear, "You naughty girl!" he says with a laugh.

You put your hands on his chest, "And I know you're just as naughty," you say back while gently pushing him away.

Chan laughs and has you pinned against the wall again, looking at your face glows from the bluish lights of the swimming pool.

He reaches for your face and swipes his thumb across your lips, "I want to kiss you," he says with a hoarse voice.

You giggle and put your hands on each side of his waist, "We can't do that, Chris," you say with an insinuating tone that indicates you're not meant to remind him about the rules.

Your eyes are daring him to cross the line and so he does, he puts his hand under your chin, then leans in to kiss you. The way you eagerly return it, he allows himself to kiss you harder and deeper.

Chan lets out a delightful sigh once he pulls away from the kiss and laughs the moment his eyes meet yours, "That was hot," he comments, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

He's going against his plan to not act selfishly but at that moment, he doesn't think about the money at all. His eyes are looking at your lips and how they're glistening wet, inviting him to kiss it again.

-

CHRIS: Oh my, Gosh! It's just so hard... it's hard [shakes his head]

-

Chan closes his eyes and tries to reorganize his thoughts, holding you tightly to help him get a grip. He hoists you against his body and you immediately wrap your legs around his waist.

"You're a good kisser," you compliment with both of your hands around his neck.

He tilts his head up to look at you, "You're a good kisser too."

You tangled your hand in the hair on the back of his head, "I kind of want to do it again."

Chan knows that you're not asking for his permission, he also knows that one kiss won't be enough for both of you. The kiss is explosive and thrilling, giving him a newfound kind of rush that he wants to experience all over again.

You kiss him first and Chan becomes the one who eagerly returns the kiss to you, opening his mouth so he can use his tongue in the mix.

"Mmh..." you moan as you put your lips on his, then slowly let go.

You smile as you put your forehead against him and seductively giggle, "You're so bad, you know that?"

It should be him saying that line to you. Whenever he's with you, he feels like has no sense of self-control anymore, all he wants to do is submit to your wishes.

He puts you down and turns around so he can rest his back, pulling you close to hold you from the back. He hopes that not seeing your lips will help him calm down.

It's when he composed himself he realizes the damage he has done to the prize money, "Okay, I feel the guilt now," he pathetically admits.

With his hands wrapped around your waist, you rub his forearm in the water and say, "We could have done more but we didn't, you know?"

"That's true," Chan agrees because yes, he could have done more than just kisses with you. If he were out there, he would have broken a bed or two with you.

Chan is fond of physical affection, both receiving and giving. It's imperative for him when it comes to connecting and bonding with the person he likes.

It's a bummer that he can't freely do that in the retreat but if he's going to break rules, he'll only do it with one person and that is you.

-

CHRIS: I want to be good but she brings out the bad in me so... [shrugs]

-

Chan had barely started his day when Lana gathered everyone in the bedroom.

He enters and sees you already sitting on the bed, he sits on the end to let you hug him from the back, waiting for the cone to light up and chime like she usually does.

"Mmh... so hot!" You gasp as you put your hand across his chest.

"How come you only found out now, mmh?" He jokes.

He knows you're talking about his skin and that's because he was at the beach to swim when Lana called. Also, he knows that it's time for judgment, everyone is going to know about the things he did.

Now that he knows he's about to get exposed, his heart skips a beat as the melodic chime comes from the cone.

"Oh! There she is!" Jane weakly gasps.

Lana hasn't spoken but Chan knows she's not pleased with the news she's about to deliver today.

"I have some disappointing news."

Chan silently swallows air and puts his hands together in front of him. He can see the guilts are coming back and haunting him.

"There has been a breach of the rules."

Everyone coo and all eyes are automatically looking for the guilty faces. Chan can see that he's not the only one breaking the rules, he just can't tell if it's going to make him feel better or worse.

-

CHRIS: I'm on the hot seat right now. Everyone is not going to be pleased.

-

Jace leans forward on the bed and rubs his chin, "I'll be honest with you all," he begins.

Jace and his playful smirk is an easy giveaway, Chan can tell that he broke the rules. Lola is also looking nervous as she keeps picking on her nails.

"I spent some money. I kissed Lola last night," he confesses.

Iain sighs and mutters under his breath, "Oh, man..."

"It was all me," Jace says as he glances at Lola, taking all the blame from her.

"I feel a connection so I guess it was worth it... yeah, I'm sorry, you guys," he concludes.

Pierre nods and seems to give him a pass, "Okay."

That seems easy to do and since everyone is on the same ship, Chan reckons that they'll respect his honesty and understand why he did what he did.

It's best to own up to his mistakes quickly than mulling over it so he confesses, "We kissed by the pool last night."

You hide behind his shoulder with your hand resting on the other shoulder.

"Just once?" Jane asks.

Chan looks at you and you take your turn to speak for both of you, "Twice."

"Oh... fuck..." Pierre lowly curses on the bed next to him.

"Is that it?" Iain asks.

He wants to be honest but it's hard when everyone is throwing daggers with their eyes at him. He forces himself to admit it, "I kissed her again. On the bed."

Chan felt guilty on the first kiss but after the second kiss, it got easier for him to rulebreak. As he was spooning you last night, your body was pressed against him and you smelled so good, it just felt right to give you a long, passionate goodnight kiss.

That, he admits is a hundred percent his fault.

"And that's it. No more kisses," you assure everyone before they can yell at him again.

"We're sorry," you end with an apology.

Chan feels grateful that you don't leave him alone, you firmly stand your ground and face it with him.

"That was a waste of money," Iain mutters loud enough for everyone to hear.

You take a sharp breath and ask, "Is that all Lana?"

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana informs, sounding so fed up already.

The drama continues as the next rulebreaker comes to light and that is Luke. It’s kind of expected, he's with Dani after all, and committed two rulebreaks. Pierre comes forward with one kiss with Alicia.

Chan is just so relieved that they take the attention away with them and he can breathe now with the glares no longer aimed in his direction.

"All of these rule breaks have made me reassess my retreat strategy," Lana states.

"Oh... she's mad," Lola says with a panicked smile.

"I have now decided to implement a stricter regime. The fines will now be doubled starting from these rule breaks," she informs.

Chan turns his head to look at you and sees you cringe at the shocking announcement.

"These multiple rule breaks have cost the group $42,000."

Lola gasps with her hand flies to cover her mouth, "We might as well pack up our bags right now," she says.

You both have just now realized the damages done to the prize money. You nuzzle your head into his neck, feeling bad from the guilt.

"The prize fund now stands at $155,000," Lana updates.

-

CHRIS: The bill turned up and we're like whoa! [Eyes widen] I guess yeah... we spent quite a lot.

-

Now it's the perfect time for him to swim at the beach.

Chan needs to cool his head down and let the seawater wash away his guilt of spending that much money on three kisses, he can do so much with $18,000.

He's swimming far off the shore and when he walks back to the villa, Jace is laughing at him.

"I thought you were swimming back to Australia, dude!" He says him while brushing his long blond hair to the back.

Chan doesn't see that Luke is there too until he arrives at the top of the stairs, "I thought about it, yeah," he playfully responds to him.

Chan then sits on the lounger next to him and dries his hair with a towel. He leans back on the lounger and turns his head at him, "I was right that you'll be the second to break the rules!"

Jace snickers, "Damn right, I am. It was worth it."

Luke rubs his oiled body and says, "Yo, I was the one in the hot seat."

Chan laughs at him, "And I thank you for taking everyone's attention away."

"You owe me!" Luke says.

Jace points at Chan with his head lolling to the side, "You know what? I think you'll need a loan soon," he jokes.

Chan shakes his head and that sounds plausible with how much money he spent in one night. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he hisses in response, "Nah..."

Truthfully, that would be a lie. Chan has not yet found a way to try to stick with the plan but at the same time, he wants to always be close to you but it's dangerous once he gets close to you.

Chan needs to work on his self-control and for a start, he needs to put a safe space between you and him.

-

CHRIS: You know what? I'll not break any rules from now on... [uneasily glances side to side] Hopefully.

-

First thing in the morning, Chan gets handed a hard task when he steps into the bathroom.

"Baby, please, help me!" You sweetly say with a tube of sunblock in your hand.

Chan has no other option but to comply and think of it as a test of self-control. He takes the sunblock from you as you slightly bend down with your hands on the edge of the sink.

"Get in there! Don't be shy!" You playfully tell him as he hesitates to rub over some sunblock on your ass cheeks.

"Okay, okay," he replies, rubbing the cream on the ample flesh of your rear, and not going to lie, he likes what he's touching.

Chan notices that you're looking at him through the reflection in the mirror and he senses that you know what's been happening the last few days.

"You say you're a good cuddler..." you say.

He rubs the rest of the sunblock down your arms, "I am," he assures.

You look over your shoulder at him, "But you barely cuddled me last night," you say with a pout.

His heart flips seeing you adorably complaining about the lack of cuddles and he can't help but smile. He knows he shouldn't put a space all of a sudden and not tell you about it.

Chan pulls your body close against his body and looks at the reflection of him hugging you from the back, fuck, he likes what he's seeing.

He slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you closer, close enough to press on his crotch, "You always make me hard," he confesses.

He presses a long kiss on your neck then says, "That's why."

You're chuckling at his honest answer then turn around to face him, putting your hands on his magnificent abs.

"How about I return the favor?" You suddenly ask.

Chan's eyes widen in shock and he wonders if the favor you mentioned has got to do with the thing he said earlier.

You burst into laughter and take the tube of sunblock, "I mean, putting on sunblock," you make the context clear.

You gently pat his cheek and kiss it while still laughing, "What are you thinking, mmh?"

-

CHRIS: Told you, I just can't think straight when I'm with her.

-

With their eyebrows raised and not-so-subtle death glares thrown your way, it's obvious that they think the reason why Lana called everyone to the cabana is because you both broke the rules again.

"Nah. Nuh-uh. Not us!" You quickly deny everyone's allegations.

Chan can relax this time knowing that he didn't do any rulebreak and puts his arm around your shoulder. You offer your hand to intertwine it with his.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana greets not long after the cone chimes in.

Lola is nervously laughing in response and Jace follows suit, they make a strange couple out of the bunch which only makes them inexplicably cute.

"To help you achieve personal growth during your stay, I need to increase your chance of finding meaningful romantic relationships," Lana remarks.

You turn your head at Chan and raise an eyebrow, wondering if he has any clue as to what Lana is hinting at.

"Therefore, I have invited two new guests to the retreat."

The gasp you let out is loud and sharp, Chan gets a little alarmed at how enthusiastic you get from this announcement. Should he be worried though?

"My guests have selected one person each to take on a date," Lana further informs.

"Oh, my God!" Alicia shrieks.

It shouldn't worry him this much but Chan feels a little worried. It's not him, it's you, he worries that your head will turn.

"The ones chosen for the dates are..."

-

CHRIS: Lana, can you just send us on a date instead? [Laughs] I'll not be pleased if she gets chosen for the date.

-

Chan doesn't want to show it but he starts tapping his fingers on his knee, waiting for Lana to inform who got chosen to get on dates with the new guests.

"Alicia..." Lana announces the first name.

Pierre hisses at the mention of his partner and coyly smiles, looking calm about it.

"And Chris," Lana announces.

Chan only registered a minute later that Lana called his name and that he got picked for the date. He might have secretly prayed for your name to not get called and forgot to pray for his own.

"Alicia and Chris, you may now leave and get ready for your dates," Lana orders.

You thinly smile at him and kiss him on the cheek, "Have fun!"

He's not sure if you mean it or not, but Chan takes it that you have good intentions behind those words. He briefly hugs you before leaving.

-

CHRIS: I did not expect to get chosen but yeah, I think it's a good chance for me to show her that I'm into her.

-

It's when he's getting ready in the dressing room that Lana delivers additional information.

One, they haven't told the new guests that they are on Too Hot To Handle which will make them as horny and as eager as he is at the start of the retreat.

Two, Chan is free to decide at which point to tell them about it.

"It's better if we tell them right away then," Chan talks to Alicia as they're walking down to the beach.

"But then they won't try to kiss you," Alicia cheekily says which is the opposite of what they should do to resist temptations.

"Good luck!" Chan gives Alicia a quick hug as they go separate ways at the beach.

He keeps walking until he finds the place where they have prepared a picnic for the date and also where the new guest has been waiting for him.

The girl turns her head around and smiles when she sees him coming her way, "Hi, hi!"

Chan joins her by sitting on the pillow on the picnic mat, "Hi, I'm Chris," he introduces and offers his hand for a handshake.

"I'm Olivia," she introduces back but instead of shaking his hand, she puts her hand around his shoulder and pulls him for a hug.

It gets him nervous and it's not the first time he goes on a date like this. He grabs the glass of drink that has been prepared for him and initiates a toast with her.

"Is that an Australian accent that I hear?" She asks.

"Yes," He answers.

"Oh, I like that," she sweetly says with a bright smile.

This is the real temptation. Olivia has a voluptuous body, gorgeous strawberry-blond hair, and a nice smile. Chan was so wrong to think that her date would be ugly.

"I've never been to a date this nice, honestly," Olivia says.

Chan swallows his drink before answering, "Well, thank you for choosing me so I can enjoy this nice date with you," he says.

He doesn't mean to sound this flirty, it just sort of comes out of him naturally. It's just the way he talks to a girl.

"Well, you have a great body, sexy lips and dimples. I think it's a no-brainer," Olivia says with eyes that silently travel down his body.

This is what he doesn't get from you enough from you, affirmations and now that he got it from someone, he gets flustered, "Thank you," he mutters with a shy smile.

Olivia flips her hair to one side of her shoulder and gazes at him, "What do you think about me? Am I your type?"

Chan lets out a low laugh and holds his drink in one hand, "You're obviously good-looking," he begins.

Olivia is biting on her finger and locked in a gaze with him as he continues talking.

"I like your smile. It's uh... you have a very nice smile," he sincerely compliments.

"Thank you," she mutters her gratitude with a flirtatious smile.

-

CHRIS: Just because I'm already with someone that doesn't mean I can't get to know Olivia.

-

The plan is to break the news to Olivia as soon as possible.

However, Chan keeps finding himself stalling to do it. He gets immersed in the conversation with Olivia and maybe because he hasn't met new people in a while that makes him inexplicably excited to talk to someone new.

Chan finishes his drink to muster up the courage to drop the news but it's hard when Olivia is constantly giving him the eyes.

"It's a nice date, yeah?" Chan begins by softening the moment.

Olivia smiles and nods, "It would be nicer if we kissed," she shamelessly says.

Oh, Olivia is a trouble and Chan already has a handful of it, she's probably waiting for him to come back from this date as they speak.

"I don't think that's going to happen," Chan says.

"Why?" Olivia's smile falters a little and maybe, she's feeling a little dejected by how quickly Chan shot her down.

"This is not what you think it is," Chan carefully says.

One of her eyebrows shoots up higher than the other, "What do you mean?"

Chan takes a deep breath even though Olivia who should be the one doing it, "You're on Too Hot To Handle."

Olivia sits up straighter and clutches at her chest, "What?"

He feels bad to rain on her parade but he's merely there to be the bearer of bad news.

"That means no kissing, no heavy petting, no masturbating, no sex..."

Her eyes get wider and wider the more she hears about things she's not allowed to do in the retreat, "That means no fun? Ever?"

"Basically... yeah," Chan playfully responds.

Oh, is this how he looked when Lana dropped the news on him? The only thing he knows for sure is Olivia is as livid as he was back then.

-

CHRIS: What can I do? Lana is the one in control here.

-

The night gets dark in time to return to the villa.

Chan helps Olivia climb the stairs on her heeled sandals and proceeds to introduce her to everyone. He gets a little nervous when it comes to introducing Olivia to you.

"So, how was the date?" Lola asks.

Chan scratches the back of his head and answers, "We had a good time."

"Yeah, that was... the nicest date I ever had," Olivia adds.

He takes a seat next to you on the sofa and you're only looking at him without saying anything.

"Did you have fun?" You finally ask him.

Chan leans into your side and says, "Let's have a talk!"

Taking you by the hand, he pulls you aside to get some privacy. You choose to sit on the sofa across from him rather than next to him.

"Uh... Olivia is sweet and we had a great chat," Chan begins while rubbing down his arm.

"I used the chance to get to know her," he adds.

He sees you subtly rolling your eyes at him and sigh, pretending like you don't care but he knows. It's kind of cute that you're worrying him that Chan's heart is fluttering inside.

He reaches for your hands and intertwines his fingers with you, "But the whole time, during the date..."

He looks at you and smiles, "I just couldn't wait to get back."

A smile rises on your face and he can see that you soften around him. He uses his index fingers to draw endless circles on the inside of your palm.

"I miss you," he softly mutters.

You're shyly smiling at him and say it back, "I miss you too."

"Come here! Give me a hug!" He says while shaking your hand.

You get up from the sofa and walk up to him, he stops you before coming for his lap.

"Oh, looking so hot tonight," he comments on the way you dressed tonight in a black silk dress with a high slit on the side.

"Spin for me, baby," he requests.

You take your hand away so you can do it for him, spinning on your feet. You show off your dress and make a few poses for him, doing it so confidently that it's undeniably sexy to him.

"Mmh... yeah, the finest girl in the retreat!" He praises.

You're laughing looking at his exaggerated facial expression, then melt onto his lap, letting him hold you tightly. Chan kisses the top of your head and whispers, "You're my number one."

After all, the word 'loyal' is what he likes to be associated with.

-

CHRIS: I don't think there's anybody else that could walk in here and turn my head at all. She's the one.

-

With his open arms, Chan is ready to catch you as you jump onto the bed at him. He locks his arms around you, then peppers your shoulder and neck with little kisses.

"Good job, Chris!" Alicia beams from the next bed.

He sees that she's still sharing the bed with Pierre, and he says back to her, "Good job, Alicia!"

The date was certainly a test but it's not much about temptations, it made Chan realize how much he likes you and he doesn't want to be with anyone else in this retreat but with you.

As he looks at you while you're lying next to him, he wonders if you feel the same too. He softly brushes your hair to the side and gently kisses your cheek, "Goodnight, baby!"

The lights are out and you snuggle into him, hooking your leg around him with your foot rubbing his shin. You place a long kiss on his neck before lowly whispering to him, "I'm glad you're back."

Chan quietly smiles in the dark of the room, "With you," he continues the sentence for you.

"With you," you repeated his words instead of putting it into a whole sentence.

He turns his head and he can easily land a kiss on your forehead, "Me too."

It's getting suspicious that your hand that was resting on his chest is slowly going lower and lower. You're probably waiting until everyone else is fast asleep to do something.

You nuzzle your head further into his neck to kiss him there, your hand is inching closer to the waistband of his boxer.

"Mmh..." he warns you with a hard squeeze on your waist.

You bring your mouth close to his ear and playfully bite on his ear shell, ignoring his warning by slipping your hand into his boxer.

Chan can stop you by putting your hand away but he knows you want to make him feel good and he simply can't resist you.

"Oh, you're so bad," he says it so low it's almost like a whisper.

He closes his eyes the moment your hand meets his semi-hard cock, "You're so bad," he says again but does nothing to stop you.

"I know," you reply to him, wrapping your hand around his length and slowly stroking it.

Chan draws you closer to his side with his hand fisting the back of your camisole as he begins enjoying the stimulation you're giving him.

"Impressive," you seductively sigh into his ear after exploring every inch of his hardening cock.

One compliment is enough to make him extremely aroused. He feels your thumb circling the tip of his cock before pumping it up and down with your hand at a steady pace.

Chan holds it in as long as he could but after days passed without getting a release, his self-control hits the lowest peak and he cums only after a few minutes.

"That wasn't even my good hand," you whisper with a low giggle.

He turns to look at you and jokingly says, "What good hands, mmh? You don't have any."

Chan knows he's a few minutes late to pull your hand out of his boxer, he then playfully bites at your fingers, "They're all bad hands. Bad, naughty hands!"

As you lowly laugh at his reply, he presses a kiss on your open mouth and draws you closer to him, feeling your body molds into his again.

-

CHRIS: [Bites lip] I can only hope that we didn't get caught.

-

"Morning," Chan croaks with a soft kiss on your cheek.

You get up right away a moment after the lights are turned on, sitting with your back against the headboard then ties your hair into a messy bun.

Still gathering his senses, Chan decides to rest his head on your lap and put your hand in his hair so you can play with it.

You give his curls a ruffle and brush it with your fingers, "Is this your natural hair?"

What you're doing is comforting him so that he can only hum in response, "Mmh."

He turns his head to the side and sees you looking down at him, "Do you like it?"

You tenderly cup his cheek in your hand, "Mmh. I like it."

Chan takes your hand to kiss the inside of your hand and wrist, his heart skips a beat at the melodic chime that comes from the cone.

Thankfully, it's Lana with her usual morning greeting and wishing the new guests a good day on their first day in the retreat. Chan thought that the first day was the hardest, but now he learned that he lost a bit of his self-control on each day spent in this retreat. What happened last night is the proof of it.

"How was your sleep, Nick, Olivia?" Lola asks the new guests who shared the bed.

"To be honest, I'm hoping it was all just a dream," Nick answers.

Everyone painfully laughs at the satire. Chan honestly still wishes that it was only just a dream but instead of that, he got used to the cameras recording everything he does in the retreat.

"Is there anyone you like here?" Luke asks either Olivia or Nick.

Chan doesn't need to worry about Olivia anymore. Guess, she has seen that he's with you which automatically makes her stop pursuing him. It's the other guest that he worries about, he notices that he's been secretly stealing glances at you.

"Mmh..." you moan as you hug him tight before getting up from the bed to start the day.

-

CHRIS: She worried for me last night but that's not quite convinced me if she feels the same way. I'm a little worried that her head will turn.

-

His fear turns real when Chan gets back to the villa from swimming and finds you chatting with the new guy in the bathroom.

Chan lingers at the doorway to catch glimpses of the conversation, catching him compliments you and you're laughing at him.

"I think there's something between us," Nick says.

"You think?"

Nick laughs and says, "I just can tell."

You're only softly laughing and not denying it. Chan decides that it's time to enter the scene so he walks into the bathroom not saying anything but gets himself a towel from the rack.

Chan turns around and looks at you, slightly nodding at Nick. The uncomfortable forcing Nick to leave the bathroom which is the only right decision there is.

You're slyly smiling at him as you lean against the sink, "Hey..."

Chan doesn't answer but keeps drying his body with the towel. He wants to see what you're going to do with this suffocating silence.

You come up to him and slip your hands under his arm, hugging him, looking up at him with your puppy eyes. You try to get his attention by kissing his neck and placing a wet kiss on his collarbone.

"Mmh... salty," you say with a giggle.

Without warning, he hoists you up and carries you on his shoulder. He slaps on the back of your thigh while looking at you through the reflection in the mirror.

"Bad girl!" He slaps you again on the other thigh, sending you squealing and laughing with your head hung upside down behind him, "You bad, bad girl!"

He slaps your ass cheek this time and asks you again, "Funny, huh?"

Yet you keep laughing, only grabbing at his arm for support. Chan turns his head to bite on the flesh of your ass cheek, "Is it still funny?" He asks again.

"Uh-huh!" You cheekily answer.

-

CHRIS: She's really bad... I need to tame her. Wish me luck though [Grins]

-

Lana throws a welcome party for the new guests and everyone is wearing red for the theme.

Chan wears a sleeveless top with his dark slacks while you're dressed in a red dress with a low neckline that barely covers your breasts.

However, the party can't stop the imminent threat of Lana telling everyone about the things you both did last night. Chan can only mentally prepare himself for it and gulps his drink in silence.

"So, what do DJs actually do?" You suddenly ask him, sitting on his lap like always.

Chan remembers he once mentioned his job as a music producer but you only focused on his side job as a DJ, "Huh?" He asks in confusion since you asked out of the blue.

You put your drink away and put your hand on his shoulder, "You guys made the mix beforehand, right? So when you're on the stage, you know DJing, you just need to play that mix," you concisely put what a DJ does as if it sounded that simple.

Chan can tell you everything there is about DJing that is more complex than what you've just said but he can only laugh at it and it helps him to take his mind off things, "Yeah, kind of."

You squeeze his shoulder and say, "If that's the case then I want to be a DJ too."

He rubs his hand down your spine and rests it on the arch of your back, "You can be whatever you want."

"Mmh," you hum as you sip your drink, "We can make a duo, you and me, DJing together."

Chan is having a good laugh about it when the music abruptly stops playing then the familiar chime comes in through the speakers.

"Please could everyone gather in the cabana immediately!"

-

CHRIS: Oh, fuck, I'm shitting it.

-

You're looking so calm sitting next to him, unaware of what's going to happen once the cone starts talking. Chan tries to put on a cool face as well, leaning back on his seat with his hand resting on your thigh.

"I've gathered you all to remind you that this retreat is for finding deeper connections, not just physical ones," Lana speaks.

The long pause between the lines is making Chan even more nervous, his hand is getting sweaty yet you hold it tightly on your lap.

"This information is not getting through to some guests. There has been a breach of the rules," Lana announces.

Alicia smacks her lips together and asks, "Who was it?"

The hunt for guilty faces is on and of course, everyone is looking at them. Chan is planning to admit it real quick, ripping the band-aid all at once but someone gets ahead of him.

"A while ago..." Iain says, "Literally a few minutes ago, I kissed Olivia."

Lola slaps her forehead and sighs, "Oh, my God!"

Olivia only shrugs in response, not showing any remorse or guilt on her part.

"The kiss has cost the group $6,000," Lana informs.

"Nice!" Lola adds a snide comment.

Everyone is pissed because Olivia spent some money when she has only been here for less than two days. Chan gets the picture of how things would be when he comes forward.

"Oh, I need another drink," Luke says.

"That is not all!" Lana makes everyone hold their breath once more.

-

CHRIS: Okay, here we go... [sighs]

-

"Last night, there was another breach of the rules."

There's no way out of it, everyone is going to know whether he decides to tell or not. Chan takes a deep breath and another one and...

"It was me," you confess.

"Oh, shit..." Pierre drags the curse word and leers at Chan.

Lola looks at you and asks, "What did you do this time, babe?"

You glance at Chan before looking back at everyone, "There was a kiss and..."

You lick your lips and hold on to his hand on your thigh, "I gave him a handy."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Jace exclaims, then bursts into laughter.

"We may as well go home. We have no money left!" Jane says with a dramatic sigh.

"I wanted to show Chris what he's been missing for going on that date, so... I'm sorry," you conclude with an apology.

It's not a good time to get lovey-dovey but he is swooning. You're fearlessly owning up to your mistakes and openly explaining the reason why you did it.

You may bring out the bad in him but he can see that there's a genuine connection there. He doesn't want to sit there and watch as everyone is attacking you.

"We're sorry, okay?" Chan apologizes once again on behalf of you.

Thankfully, Lana takes over the situation.

"What you did goes against the purpose of the retreat. Therefore a further $14,000 has been deducted from the prize fund," Lana comes up with the calculated damage.

Lola is groaning and squirming like someone has set her body on fire, "Oh, God!"

"The prize fund now stands at $135,000."

Chan grips your hand hearing how much money have lost from the initial amount and have a hard time reeling from it.

As if that wasn't enough of torture, Lana calls your name and his.

"You have broken most rules since arriving at the retreat. You must now prove that your connection is more than just purely physical."

You're looking at him and he sees panic in your eyes, kind of figuring out what Lana is going with it.

"You will face the ultimate test of chastity by spending the night alone in the private suite."

Chan gulps air and feels hot all of a sudden. Without looking, he can feel everyone's eyes are drilling holes in his head.

-

CHRIS: I want to prove to everyone that we do have a genuine connection but at the same time, we're going to the private suite... [whistles] it's going to be hard.

-

Everyone is emitting negative energy and that only makes Chan can't stand another second being in the same room with them.

"Please make your way to the suite!" Lana commands.

Chan shoots up from the sofa and offers his hand to help you get up, "Come on, babe!"

He just can't wait to get away from everyone and not be around them. He leads the way to the private suite that is located in a different part of the villa.

Chan slowly pushes the door to the suite and the smell of scented candles welcomes him. He holds the door open for you and you gasp at the sight of the big bed with a  silk sheet on it.

"Oh, they want us to fail, babe," you say as you slowly lay yourself down on the bed.

Chan stands at the end of the bed and looks at you, lying with rose petals scattered around you.

"So beautiful," he murmurs.

He puts his knee against the mattress to hover above you, taking his time to admire your beautiful face with admiration in his eyes, "Stop looking so beautiful!" He says in a frustrated tone.

You smile at him and draw his body closer, sending him toppled on top of you.

"So, tell me..." you lowly speak with your hand going under his top.

"Tell you what?" He says as he plants a soft kiss on your neck.

"What are we doing tonight, Chris?" You ask.

You rarely call him by his name but when you do, it does things to him. He has so many things he wants to do to you but sadly, they are all against the rules.

-

CHRIS: Lana wasn't kidding when she said it's the ultimate test... [shakes head] [sighs]

-

The bath is ready and Chan is leaning against the sink, watching you taking every piece of clothing off you.

You look confident in your body and that's just a whole different level of sexy to him. You're smiling, noticing that he's been ogling at your body, up and down, for so many times he lost count of it.

"Why are you just standing there?" You ask while twisting your hair and securing it with a hair claw.

He shakes his head with his cheeks blushed from how horny he is, "You're so gorgeous," he praises.

You come up to him and kiss him on the cheek, close enough to the corner of his mouth, "Don't make me wait."

You get in the tub first and slowly lower yourself into the warm, scented water to not slosh it out of the tub.

You fill two champagne flutes with the bubbly wine while Chan is removing his clothes in under a minute. You look at him as he stands there in all his glory. He notices the glance you made at his semi-hard cock.

"You like what you see?" He asks.

You pull your feet up so he can take the spot on the other end of the tub and then you can rest your feet on his legs.

"Oh, I want to get a taste now," you tell him with a flirty wink.

Chan bursts into laughter to mask how nervous he is inside. He's snaking his hand under your thigh to hold you there.

"You're hard right now," you remark out of nowhere.

It's obvious, he can even see right through the milky water that his cock is fully erected and you're not asking, you know it's true.

"What should we do about it?" He asks.

You sip your wine and lick your lips, "That depends on how much money we want to spend tonight," you tell him.

Oh fuck, it's going to be one hell of a night!

-

CHRIS: [Sighs] Uh... I think I need a loan statement.

-

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[hazelsmirrorball]

F1 Elementary | Teacher! Oscar Piastri x Teacher! Reader

summary: It's Halloween in Box elementary and Oscar decides it's a good idea to play secret admirer and finally make a move with one of the teachers.

pairings: teacher!oscar piastri x teacher!reader

a/n: Excuse any errors english isn’t my main language. This is based off Abbott Elementary. If it's in bold it's a confesional.

 The bell rang loudly, filling the halls mixing with the loud voices of the kids that were heading towards their classrooms. The teachers patiently waited outside the door greeting every single kid that entered. The hallways were different from their day to day. Miss L/n had stayed all night up decorating the halls to make them spooky for halloween. People could probably say that she could be a little bit of an overdoer. Spiders webs, spiders, pumpkins, bats surrounded the hallways, clinging towards the halloween aesthetic scaring a few of the kids. 

"Hi! I'm principal Norris. I still don't know how I ended up ruling this school but might I say I love it here. I’m the literal king of this school, everyone does what I say, it’s like I direct them or something. There’s a lot of perks of working at Box elementary,  Hot teachers, smart kids and the paycheck. Being a principal is the best, so I welcome you to my lovely kingdom. But enough about me, let’s talk about my untalented and ugly staff so you guys can see what I have to work with everyday. Look, there we have one of our annoying second grade teachers, Y/n. I'll leave you guys to it and let me say if you need more beauty shots, I'll be in my office" Lando said while tilting his crown down sending a kiss towards the camera. He turns to the left and the camera slowly follows him walking towards one of the students eating a lollipop. Lando  quickly takes it out of her hand and eats it himself. He walks away leaving the kindergartener alone crying in the halls. 

"Hello!! I'm Y/n L/n. But around here everyone calls me Miss L/n. I've been teaching second grade here for about four years now and honestly it's a blast. I love the kids, I love the school, I love my coworkers, I love the classes, I love my mood ...Sorry l am rambling but in my defense it's one of the best holidays of the year. Halloween!  and this year is different because we got the opportunity to dress up. They also let me put the whole school in halloween decor. All the kids are so excited to wear their little costumes and eat candies. That’s why I had to step up my game. Guess what I am? No? Okay. Well I’m a bumblebee cause people say I’m sweet like honey and sometimes that is annoying, but that’s nobody's buzzness. Did you get the joke? Did you understand?  Because I am dressed as a bee? I know you got it, I see that smile on your lips, cameraman. Anyway, let me just get to the point, I teach second grade and around here we all love to have fun. Do you want a Frankenstein cupcake? I made them myself" She said with a huge grin stretching out her hand with a cupcake toward the cameramen while the kids in the background made cute cupcakes. Her face was covered in frosting and her costume was covered in glitter. 

Oscar Piastri, smiled as he excitedly greeted his first graders, exclaiming proudly “happy halloween ” as they entered the classroom, His  Mark Webber  costume intact. He watched as his little students entered the classroom all giggly while holding onto buckets filled with candies he had personally requested them to bring so they could exchange with their classmates. When the last student entered, his eyes trailed towards the end of the hall where he could see Y/n L/n handing her kids a lollipop while they entered. Oscar stared at her in aw, as she did a dance battle with one of the kids that was dressed as a hip hop dancer. Y/n stinger got caught on the door making her fall back as all the kids from her class ran up to her to help her up. She shook them off by saving countless thank you’s. Y/n threw her head back laughing at her kids following the action as Oscar stayed in his place being starstruck by her beauty. Oscar waited a few seconds to catch her eye and waved at her with a soft smile which Y/n happily returned. Being lost by the sudden interaction Oscar couldn’t feel the small child tugging on the side of his pants trying to get his attention. 

“Mr. Oscar! You are staring at Miss L/n again. You said staring at people was rude” The child exclaimed quite loudly making Oscar jump up and panick. He quickly crouched down to be at the same level as the kid. 

“Alex, what did we say about yelling?” Oscar said softly, trying to push back his flushed face. Alex looked down towards his shoes shaking his head. 

“That we shouldn’t do it. I’m sorry Mr. Oscar. I was trying to get your attention because I needed to tell you something but you were looking at Miss L/n. I heard that in their class they are making cupcakes today. What are we going to do? It’s Halloween we should do something fun” Alex said, raising his head and grinning excitedly towards Oscar. Oscar mirrored his expression. 

“Well, I talked to Principal Norris and he said we could race cars outside. So after we exchange candies right after recess we can race” Oscar said resting his hands on his shoulder grinning. Alex quickly squealed in excitement jumping up and down. Oscar followed his actions moving side to side. “Wait, what did you need to tell me that was so urgent?” Oscar said quickly remembering what were his true intentions. 

“I actually don’t remember” Alex said, making a thinking face. 

"Mister Oscar!  Jeremy is kicking me again" a kid screamed from inside the classroom making Oscar quickly enter the room to detain the fiasco before it got worse. Jeremy was quite the fighter and he didn’t feel like cleaning up blood today. 

Oscar Piastri didn't expect to like being a teacher as much as he did but now after being a  teacher for about a year, he was starting to get the hang of things. He enjoyed the kids' presence, they made things actually fun for him and the best thing, aside from the kids, was Y/n L/n. Having Y/n around made the teaching experience quite refreshing. She was around the same age as Oscar  but she had been teaching there for about four years just like her close friend and English teacher, Logan Sargent. Oscar had tried several times to get in their little group but it was quite hard for him to click with the teachers. It wasn’t that they were mean or anything, it was the fact that they didn’t take the rookie teacher seriously. Adding to the fact that Oscar wasn’t the best when getting social clues, for some people, it felt like they were talking to a child while they were talking to Oscarl. 

“Mister Piastri, I wanted to inform you that the camera crew just got here today, so don't be surprised if they catch your fine ass. You look quite attractive with that, costume." Principal Norris said, peeking his head through the door. Oscar  turned around with a scared look on his face seeing Lando wiggle his eyebrows at him. Oscar’s hands dropped stopping the two kids that were originally fighting. 

"Excuse me?" Oscar asked, raising an eyebrow at Lando making him wink at Oscar. 

"I'm just playing but remember that they...Oh look they are here now! Here we have Mr. Oscar Piastri. He teaches first grade and he's been working here for about a year, yet he can barely get a hold of his class but we are working on it. So enjoy your time with him. The hottest teacher in the school. Bye" he exclaimed while he left Oscar standing agape in the hallway with a camera crew filming straight at him. Oscar quickly took his glasses off, cleaning them on his pants nervously while the kids screamed as loud as they could in the back of the class, the kids once again starting their fight.

“First of all, I'm not the hottest teacher here, I'll leave that to Charles and second of all I have perfect control of my kids. Didn’t you guys catch on camera me stopping the fight? " Oscar exclaimed defensively while putting on his glasses and looking at the camera clearly stressed. His hair was now messy pointing to several directions as his  breath was unsteady. 

"Mr. Oscarl! Help me, Jeremy is still pulling my hair now" a kid yelled from the back of the class quickly gaining Oscar’s attention. He quickly ran towards the back of the class and the camera crew quickly behind him. Oscar tried pulling Jeremy off one of the other kids but he wouldn't move.

"Jeremiah, let go!" Oscar said while falling desperately to get his attention. 

"I'm not letting go Osc! She bit me with her stupid vampire teeth" Jeremiah yelled, still not letting go of his grip becoming stronger. 

"First, I told you even though you are stronger than me to call me Mr. Oscar. Second of all, we said no bad words in the classroom and that included the word stupid.  Now let's just try to be in a loving mood, it's Halloween, don't you guys want to be in a loving mood?!" Oscar asked desperately, trying to convince the kids to let go of each other. All the kids around them were unphased by the interaction, exchanging candies while the fiasco unfolds.

"NO!" Both of the kids exclaim pushing Oscar down towards the floor. He closed his eyes in pain waiting for a few seconds for the floor to eat him alive. He let out a sigh, dragging himself to one of the classroom doors praying that someone, beside Lando or Y/n, would help him out. 

"How are you kids so strong?! Verstappen!  Verstappen please, please help me. Verstappen I know you can see me" Oscar exclaimed as he gripped on the side of the door from the floor. He reached forward holding his leg desperately not wanting him to move. Verstappen stopped dead in his tracks staring down at Oscar with pity. His eyes were nearly covered in tears as he begged him to come and help. Verstappen looked towards the break room as he turned his back from it, taking a step into the classroom but not before quickly rolling his eyes at Oscar. Instantly the kids stopped fighting while the ones that were exchanging candies  sat down hiding their sweets.

"How?" Oscar mouthed to the camera while watching the kids stay like statues with Verstappen.

"I'm  Max Verstappen. Please do not associate me with the principal or I will call the authorities against you. If it were my decision, I would have been principal and I would have said no to this little filming festival you have going around here. But since l am not principal, I have to answer your dumb questions.  I am the other second grade teacher here at Box elementary. The only person I don't get annoyed at in this school is possibly Oscar. He isn't the worst teacher in the world but he isn't the greatest. Kids here can be little shits but I have them under control. Oscar on the other hand doesn't. He lacks control and I truly believe he's one of the kids."  Verstappen said to the camera while moving to the side to let into view a giggling Oscar Piastri exchanging his candies  with his students excitedly.

Meanwhile, Logan and Carlos  walked together to the break lounge ready to eat their lunch and enjoy their break. Both of them worked on the second floor with the middle school kids and they were exhausted.

"Good evening, I'm Logan and I teach seventh grade english. I've been in this school for four years and quite frankly still don't know why I've stayed so long."

Carlos sat down taking his food out of his neatly prepared lunch box while Logan took his mug to serve himself some coffee. Both of them took in the wonderful peace and quiet that surrounded the break lounge, something that it always lacked. But the peace and quiet was interrupted by the door slamming open and a visually alarmed Oscar  coming through, Verstappen following behind shortly after.

"I'm so done with those little pieces of sh.. You"  Oscar took a deep breath pointing at the cameramen. "Stop following me with those stupid cameras. You're making me seem like I'm a bad teacher” he said while his eyes twitched, making Logan hide a chuckle with a cough. He continued to drink his coffee attempting to calm himself.

"I don't think they're making you seem like a bad teacher, maybe you're just being one” Carlos  responded while taking a bite of his sandwich making Logan  "cough" even louder.

"Carlos.  I came to this school the same time Oscar Piastri did and it still surprises me that he is still here. There were fifty new teachers and surprisingly the only two left are Oscar Piastri  and me, I thought he was going to be the first one to leave, yet here he is, still struggling and still not getting the hang of it" Carlos said to the camera while fixing the nonexistent wrinkles of his button up shirt.

"Well, I have you know I am a great teacher! My students say it to me all the time when I get emotional. I bet you don’t even cry with your students. My students and I had a Halloween party, something that didn't even cross your mind to have today. We exchanged candies, had a dance party and watched movies. They love me. I love them. And all you did was bore you kids to death today, I suppose. What did you do? Make them read" Oscar responded angrily while looking at the peaceful Carlos. 

"Actually, yes. We read about the history behind witches. Something you can actually do to learn since you come to school to learn not to party. But I guess you didn't get the memo since all you did was go to frat parties in college" he said taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Jokes on you I wasn't even in a frat. But I just know your kids wanted lollipops and by the way I gave my kids lollipops and none of them threw them at each other so I believe that's progress" Oscar said proudly while looking in the fridge giving his back to the teachers letting them see the back part of his robes covered in lollipops.

"Congrats! You are getting better, Piastri. I am really proud” Logan  applauded while placing his cup of coffee down.

“But I don't think you should get your kids hopes up with Halloween. You should show them the gory things that I showed mine today. Real, scary, halloween movies. When they’ll get older they will thank you for teaching them how to survive a psycho. ” Verstappen responded while sitting next to Carlos.

"Aren't your kids seven?" Carlos asked, concerned, raising an eyebrow at Verstappen.

"And your point is, Carlos Jr.?" Verstappen asked while taking a sip of his black coffee. 

“I already told you, my name isn't Carlos Jr., it's just Carlos" he said seriously while glaring at the man.

"I will not stop spreading love in my classroom.I love Halloween and no one and I mean no one  loves Halloween more than me" Oscar exclaimed sitting down with his arms crossed. 

"Hellooo fellow teachers!" Y/n exclaimed throwing flower petals in the air while entering the break room. 

"I highly doubt it" Logan responded while looking at his best friend, dressed up in her vibrant yellow costume. She was holding onto a basket filled with sweets while her wings neatly placed on her back. Her hair wasn't styled as usual, instead it was pulled back in two braids with her antennas.

"Happy Halloween to you, and you, and you" She said, handing a beautifully devoted Halloween box to each of her coworkers.

Carlos smiled softly, Logan whispered a thanks and Verstappen rolled his eyes, but deep down he loved it. Y/n headed towards Oscar giving him a bigger box than the rest. Oscar blushed hard, taking in the gift in his hand while Y/n placed down her things. 

"Thank you, Y/n. I appreciate it a lot" he said smiling softly but his smile got wider when she sat next to him.

"You're welcome Oscar! By the way, I love your red bull costume. I really like the redbull drink. A lot of my students dressed the same. It looks cute" she said, playing with the ends of Oscar’s long sleeve . 

“Actually, Y/n. Oscar’s dressed as An...” Verstappen started but quickly got cut off by Oscar slamming his hand against the table. 

"Thank you, Y/n! I was trying really hard for that can look. I really like your bee costume. I know everyone was buzzing about it” he said excitedly while trying to hide his  blush. Y/n threw her head laughing hitting Oscar’s shoulder softly making Oscar blush more if it even was possible.  

"Thank you! I wanted to go all out today, I heard that the party was going to be the bomb.” Y/n said winking towards Oscar which made him grin excitedly. 

“You know about that?” Oscar asked confusedly, while taking his food out of his bag. 

“Yeah! My kids were telling me about some big plan you have after recess. I was so excited for the afternoon party I forgot to bring lunch" She smiled at her while opening a water bottle and looking down at her notes to fix anything that was incorrect for the party the school was throwing later today.

"Here, have my sandwich" Oscar exclaimed quickly, planting the sandwich next to her. She looked up from her paper shaking her head.

“Don't worry about it Oscar. You should eat, I can wait until later.” She responded by trying to hand it back at him but he shook his head.

"Have it, I'm not even hungry" Oscar said smiling softly while shrugging trying not to worry her.

"Thank you Oscar! I owe you one" Y/n said, taking a bite while Logan looked at the camera suspiciously while drinking his coffee.

"What? I'm not hungry. My stomach is filled with brownies, candies and cupcakes. Plus the cupcake I had this morning, if Y/n’s hungry I wouldn't mind giving her my food!! Or anyone not necessarily her, I give my food to everyone that wants it, look. Here have this kiwi" Oscar exclaimed while taking out the kiwi he was previously eating and handing it in to a kid that was passing by. The kid stared at Oscar weirdly before continuing walking.

"So,what are you guys doing tonight? Anything special planned in this spooky evening" Oscar asked, trying to change the subject while they all peacefully ate. Everyone stayed quiet but Oscar anxiously taped his finger on the round table making Carlos groan and speak up.

"Well, since you're being nosy, I rented out a movie theater to watch movies tonight with my girlfriend” Carlos responded, closing his book. Y/n squealed, turning to him with a smile. "It was so romantic. What did you get?" Carlos asked, directing himself to Y/n, but she simply shrugged.

“The kids gave me some beautifully made cupcakes, those that count?" She asked sitting next to him, Verstappen laughed making the two stare at him.

“It's sad that you want that to count," he said, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Don't listen to Max, he's just jealous the kids didn't give him anything because they are scared of him” Carlos said, rolling his eyes as Y/n fixed her posture awkwardly. 

"My kids love me, they know my second grade class is the superior one and they did get me sweets. I just don't like them" Verstappen responded, getting a bag of candy and throwing it on the table leaving Carlos in shock.

"Well, maybe you'll get something later, the night is still young" Oscar said suspiciously while looking at the camera with a smirk. As if it were by cue a delivery man opens the door holding a big strawberry bouquet.

“Delivery for Y/n L/n” the delivery man said while reading the card. Y/n excitedly got up taking it in her hands and placing it down on the table picking the card to see from who it was. She quickly smiled at the delivery man saying thanks before he left. All the teachers looked at the bouquet waiting for her to say who it was from.

"Who is it from?" Oscar  asked while standing next to her with a huge grin on his face.

"It says spooky berries from a secret admirer, " she said, picking a strawberry and eating it.

Logan, Carlos and Verstappen stood outside in the hallways with the camera crew Filming them.

"It was Oscar" the trio said at the same time while rolling their eyes.

"This is beautiful! The person that got me this has to know me really well, I love chocolate covered strawberries. They are literally the best thing to ever exist on this planet"

" You see! I know her well!! I got her that gift and went all out! I'm proud of my hard work and the smile on her face is to die for. So ha! I win Halloween" Oscar exclaimed happily at the camera while grinning.

"Breaks over, I need my teachers in their classrooms so they can take the kids to that dumb party Y/n’s making" Lando said entering the lounge and getting himself some coffee.

"Nothing you can do will ruin my mood today, Lando. So I will take that as a compliment" She responded, taking a picture of the strawberries.

"You got yourself that gift? That's sad, even for you L/n" Lando responded while taking a sip of the drink.

"Actually, it was a secret admirer," she responded, not even looking at him.

"Oscar, it was Oscar" Lando said, looking at the camera in the hallway while taking a bite of a strawberry he had taken from Y/n's gift.

"Also how are you guys enjoying the reality show we have going on here?" Lando asked, winking at the camera.

"I feel watched and stalked" Verstappen responded seriously.

"I didn't ask you. Oscar?" Lando turned his head towards Oscar who started to pick up his things so he could head back to his classroom. 

"This isn't a reality show Lando. it's a documentary for schools with poor funding so I don't think we should be proud of that” he said while standing up and putting his tote bag on his shoulder. 

"You know what I'm not proud of, the fact I haven't received my Valentine's Day gift yet" Lando said only for him to hear. Oscar shivers while looking at him with the same expression as before. "Now everyone chop chop. We don't have all day" he continued while applauding obnoxiously.

Everyone started leaving the teachers lounge leaving Oscar to himself to open the box Y/n had given him, he slowly opened the box and opened his eyes wide when he saw the gift.

"Oh, I've known about Oscars' crush ever since he started working here. But I love seeing the reactions he does when he thinks I don't know a thing about the little gestures he does for me. That's why I decided that I should give something back" Y/n said smiling to the camera holding the gift she had received from him. In the background you could see Oscar dancing excitedly and when Y/n turned around to look at him, he froze waving at her trying to act cool which Y/n responded with a smile while quickly turning to her classroom.

Oscar looked at his kids jumping up and down at the party and he smiled. He looked at the camera men and then down at his hands.

"I'm going on a date today" He said screaming while joining his kids in a dance battle.

Logan looked at Oscar and then at his best friend from the other side of the school gym and smiled softly at her.

"You asked him out, didn't you?" Logan asked, looking at Y/n.

"Yes, I think he’s cute." She responded while looking at the dancing Oscar. Both of them looked at how Oscar huddled up with the kids pushing a car to make the kids star driving. A few seconds in, a kid “runs’ over another ones leg making them cry.

“I though he meant toy cars?! Seven year olds don’t have diverse license”