#i just love sharing answers to quizzes and assignments

[meherya]

I want to distribute the wealth (quiz answers) but idk who’ll turn out to be a  class traitor (snitch) :/

[thus-spoke-lo]

All You Had to Do Was Ask // Trafalgar Law x afab!reader

CW: modern AU; afab!reader [no pronouns used]; strip games; suggestive content WC: 2.7k A/N: I'm pleased to be able share the piece i created for @lovinglawzine! if you haven't had the chance to download it yet, please be sure to check out the 100% free SFW/OC/X-Reader and NSFW downloads - over 200 pages of incredible writing and gorgeous illustrations, all featuring Trafalgar Law getting the love he deserves!

Law observes you from the doorway of his tiny kitchen while he listens to the last drips of coffee splash into the pot. You fidget in place, sitting cross-legged on his living room floor amongst a sea of papers and books, your massive pharmacology textbook laid open to a heavily-highlighted page, multiple neon colors taking up almost every paragraph. He suppresses a grin, feels a blush rising in his cheeks as you chew on the end of your pen and fiddle with the hem of your sweatshirt—little quirks that have captivated him after watching you in class year after year, habits he’d grown particularly fond of after spending hours with you poring over quizzes and assignments in the library and chugging the last sips of burnt chain-store coffee while you work yourself into a tizzy over a mediocre grade.

There is something irresistibly charming to him about your passion and dedication to your schoolwork and your fits of worry over what would inevitably turn out to be nothing at all—after all, you’re in the top of your classes for good reason, Law right alongside you, jockeying for the highest marks. He fills two mugs with coffee and chuckles to himself at your needless anxiety; if you worry half as much about your future patients as you do about a missing half-point of extra credit or a misinterpreted question that led to a wrong answer, then you’ll end up a fine doctor indeed.

And now here you sit in his small apartment, deep in another tumult of concern over next week’s midterm, looking as adorably anxious as ever; he never means to minimize your very real worries over your own abilities, but it’s hard for Law to deny that your nervousness is at least a little bit endearing. You’d shown up a little while ago out of the blue, standing at his door with your backpack held tightly to your chest, grimacing as you implored him to help you study.  How could he possibly say no to you? Certainly not with the way you stood in his doorway, looking disheveled and harried, gazing up at him with pleading eyes through the fall of your lashes, biting your lower lip in anticipation of his answer. Who was he to deny you his time when you vibrated with a nervous energy that he knew he could sooth with honeyed words of reassurance and a warm beverage? No, Law has never been able to say no to you, not since the first class you’d shared where you rushed to the first empty seat you spotted and quietly asked if you could sit beside him; he’d barely acknowledged you with a grunt, trying to keep his eyes straight ahead, but felt a warmth spread through him every time he’d glance at you out of the corner of his eye and catch your gaze.

Law passes your mug to you, his body stiffening as your fingers brush his, and plunks his lanky body down across from you on the floor, avoiding the carefully-placed stacks of papers that separate you. Something stirs in him as you nod sweetly in appreciation before pulling your legs up to your chest and taking a few slow, careful sips of your coffee. He wonders if you ever feel that stirring too—that tingling at the base of his spine that makes it hard not to lean in and kiss you just to sweetly cease your worried ramblings, that warmth in his core that makes him stop just short of settling his hand in your thigh in class and letting his fingers explore the expanse of bare skin that spreads out from under your skirts. You must feel it too—he’s seen the way your glances longer just a little too long when you think he isn’t looking, how you eye his copious tattoos when he leaves his shirt unbuttoned just a little lower than usual or rolls his shirtsleeves up on a hot day. You must feel it too, he reasons—why else would you smile at him in that way that feels like it’s meant only for him?

One day he’ll tell you, Law assures himself day after day—he’ll tell you just how much you mean to him, how these years in this program have been made more bearable by having you around. He’ll tell you how he wishes you’d come by for more than just study sessions and free coffee, how he knows just how good his hands would feel around your waist, his lips pressed to yours in the cold, dark quiet of his bedroom. But Law is, above all else, a methodical man, and his careful planning and good intentions were getting him nowhere with you—unending thoughts of precisely how to confess to you only work if he actually intends to act on them. All his years of painstaking preparations seem to be unraveling day by day, replaced by a restlessness in his bones, an eagerness to know you as more than just a friend—and an uncharacteristic impulsiveness that he is no longer certain he can repress.

“Thanks for this,” you finally mutter, setting your cup on the low table beside you. “Not just the coffee—for all of this, I mean. I know I sort of showed up out of nowhere, but I was in the neighborhood. I guess I could have texted first, but I just—”

“It’s okay, really. I don’t mind that you’re here.” Law reaches out and places his hand on top of yours, gently stroking the inside of your wrist with his thumb to slow your frantic chatter. His boldness startles him a little, the ease with which he touches you on a whim feeling at once unnatural and comfortable, like he’s meant to feel your softness beneath his fingertips.

Your lips part as if to speak, but instead you simply stare down at his hand for a moment, a soft squeak tumbling out of you, before retracting your arm and placing it in your lap. “I—well, that’s good, then.”

He can still feel you on him, feel the bones of your wrist and the smoothness of your skin, feel the way your pulse raced under the gentle grip of his fingers. It’s like he imagined it would be, warm and perfect, and he quickly clears his throat before he loses himself in thoughts of how the rest of you would feel under his tattooed fingers.

“You know, I really don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he says reassuringly as he starts to grab a stack of paper. “You always worry, and then you do just fine.”

“Only because you help me.” You flip through your textbook absentmindedly, seeming to be actively avoiding his stare. “You make the best study materials.”

Law feels a warmth spreading through his chest that extends out to his limbs, heat pooling in his core—the same one that always ignites when you sit just a little too close, let your hand stay just a little too long on his shoulder when you shuffle behind his seat in class to reach yours. He stills himself and inhales deeply—an idea begins to simmer in his mind, and the longer he sits, and the longer he lets uncertainty linger between you, the more and more it builds until it boils over and he finds himself blurting out a question he’s only half-prepared to know the answer to.

“Hey—what if we played a little game?”

You glance up from your textbook and raise a questioning eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Law runs through scenarios in his mind, all his careful planning suddenly useless as he quickly settles on an idea. “I was just thinking—sometimes it helps to have some distractions when you’re studying, you know? Something to take your mind off the anxiety.”

“Okay, and what exactly did you have in mind?”

“Well, I’ll quiz you from these study guides you made. And for every five questions you get right”—he pauses, touching his tongue to the corner of his mouth—“l’ll take something off.”

“Law!” Your eyes grow wide and your jaw slack, an astonished huff leaving your lungs.

“What?” A subtle smile quirks up the corners of his mouth as his eyes roam over your features; you look surprised, perhaps a little embarrassed—but not offended. “You don’t think an incentive could help?”

“And what if I get it wrong?”

“Well,” he purrs, cocking his head, riding a sudden high of confidence, “for every one you get wrong, then you take something off for me.”

He eyes you as you swallow hard and chew on your lower lip—you’re going to say no. You’re going to say no, despite how smooth he made his offer, despite how desperate you are for his help, and he won’t blame you if you do. You’ll never trust him again, he’s ruined everything, he never should have—

“Okay. Let’s do it.” You stare at him with jaw set, eyes wide, chest heaving a little under your shirt. A tight-lipped smile stretches across your lips, and your posture stiffens. “I’m game.”

Law nearly chokes on a relieved sigh, and his pulse races as he grips the study guide. He runs his thumbs over the smooth paper and wonders just how far you’ll let him go, just how far his little game will take you—and there’s only one way to find out. His eyes scan the first set of questions, and his stomach drops: there’s no way you won’t know the answers. You’re too quick to answer in class, and you’ve clearly pored over every page in your textbook with its copious color-coded highlighting. He takes a deep breath and wonders how quickly he’ll end up losing his shirt—or more.

As he had suspected, the first question is no sooner past his lips before you’re blurting out the correct answer; he nods, muttering “you got it,” and continuing. He lobs questions at you, one after another, and you answer each with ease—all correct, five in a row. Law tries to keep moving, continuing with his rapid-fire pacing, but you stop him, the beginnings of a wry smile on your lips.

“Now, now,” you tease, “aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Right.” He quickly unzips his hoodie and tosses it behind him, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, suddenly feeling more exposed than anticipated. Law feels a heat rising in his cheeks as he catches your gaze landing on his tattooed forearms, your eyes darting over his skin.

He launches another barrage of questions at you, even more difficult than the last, but you make quick work of them—another five in a row.

Shit.

He removes his socks next, despite your insistence that this is cheating, and continues. You get another five right, and as he prepares to be stripped of his pants and possibly his dignity next, when he quickly responds, “Nope. The answer was B.”

“What? That’s bullshit!” You lean forward, brows furrowed and mouth agape, trying to snatch the paper from his hands. “I know that can’t be right, we just went over it in class last week!”

He sits back just enough so only your fingertips graze the paper, suppressing a depraved grin. “That’s what it says here. I don’t know what to tell you.”

You sit back and run your tongue along your teeth, your eyes narrowed at him, and for a moment, Law thinks that you may have seen through his ruse—or, at the very least, that you’re going to end his little game. But instead, you strip your sweatshirt over your head and toss it to the side, leaving your torso covered in a thin tank top, and Law’s pulse quickens at the sight of your bare skin.

“Alright, go ahead,” you shrug, a look somewhere between annoyance and self-assurance settling on your face, “quiz me again.”

Law lets you enjoy a few more right answers—you truly do know this subject well—before he fabricates another wrong response. This time you don’t protest, only huff a sigh through your nose and stand, shimmying out of your jeans; he catches a glimpse of your panties before you quickly sit back down and cover your lap with your sweatshirt. It feels a little wrong to be doing this to you, to take advantage of your trust and your reliance on him as your friend and study partner, but the guilt is slowly being erased by an insatiable hunger. He wants more, wants to see you bare before him, a display meant only for him. What he’ll do with you once you’re exposed, that he doesn’t know; all he knows for sure is that he close, so very, very close, to having you in front of him the way he’s dreamed of for so long.

A few more right answers pass, and he lets you reach five again—despite the fever that grips him, he knows you’re too damned smart not to get suspicious, assuming you aren’t already. And so he lets you have a win and he slowly, teasingly, takes off his shirt—letting you see a full glimpse of the tattoos that cover his torso.

“See something you like?” he grins, stretching his sinewy arms above his head to allow you an unobstructed view.

“What? No! I mean—t-they’re just cool is all,” you stammer.

Law’s cheeks burn at the feeling of being objectified by you, immersed in the sensation of being desired as much as he desires. It’s cute how you protest, how even now as he lets you see what you clearly have wanted to see, that you try to keep your eyes focused on anything but him—and fail over and over again. He finds it harder to want to keep quizzing you, wanting more than anything to toss the booklet aside and push you down against the floor, to make a mess of your books and papers and give in to the years of yearning and

Finally, he continues—he lets only one right answer pass this time before he corrects you, the need to see more of you becoming overwhelming. You slowly strip your tank top off, tossing it at his head when you’re done, giggling softly as he pulls it away from his face. Law watches as you sit back on the heels of your palms and shift so your sweatshirt falls out of your lap; he suppresses a moan as you bend your knees and let your legs loll to the side, exposing the thin strip of cotton fabric that separates his eyes from your center.

“Law, what are you doing?” you ask, head tilted to one side, a coy smile on your lips.

He manages to tear his leering gaze away from the apex of your thighs, and his pulse races at the look on your face—you look nearly as ravenous as he feels. “W-what are you talking about?”

“You know damn well I didn’t get those answers wrong.”

“Is that so?”

“What are you playing at, anyway?” You feign a pout. “Thought you wanted to help me, Law.”

“I did—and I do—I just—”

“Just what?”

You crawl across the floor to him, yanking the study guide out of his hand and tossing it to the side. Breathing feels impossible and his heart thrums away in his ribcage as you straddle his lap and press against his pelvis; a soft gasp leaves his lungs, his excitement becoming difficult to mask as he strains against the fabric of his jeans at the feeling of your heat against him. You grasp his arms and place his trembling hands on your hips, then drape your arms over his shoulders, wriggling as you settle yourself on top of him; it’s everything he wanted, everything he needed, and it’s happening so quickly that no amount of meticulousness, no amount of preparation could prepare him for the way you so nonchalantly take control. Law’s breath hitches in his throat—you’re close, so close, your lips nearly grazing his as you lean in and press your heated cheek against the side of his face. He can almost taste you, almost feel you melting into him, almost feel your heart racing against him matching the speed of his own.

“If you wanted to see me naked,” you whisper in his ear, warm breath spreading across his skin, “all you had to do was ask.”

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE ! BATFAM W/ MILES MORALES (BUT GENDER NEUTRAL) ! READER

Just an outline for a potential full on fic to come.

First of all, I’d like to put credit where credit is due and thank Kden (from Quotev) for creating Straight Venomous and inspiring me to start this. And thank you firefly-graphics and galacticgrafitti for the dividers.

Damian and Reader are of legal age in this fic but there will still be an age gap between them and Bruce (I mean he literally fathered the former so it can’t be helped)

This is my first fic in Tumblr so forgive me if it isn’t up to par for quality and format wise as I’m still learning.

CW/TW: Reader is POC coded as in Latino/Black like Miles although you can kinda have to squint since it’s only from the dialogue with their mother in future chapters. Reader is described to have gained “muscles” and height. Spoilers for Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse. NO NSFW YET BUT WILL COME IN LATER CHAPTERS.

current status: unedited

summary: damian meets and gets attracted to wrinkly brained reader. mostly follows the into the spiderverse plot.

Reply if you’d like to be added to this series’s taglist.

[ PART TWO ] [ PART THREE ]

WHAT’S UP DANGER (PART ONE)

“If I sound lazy just ignore my tone, cause I’m always gonna answer when you call my phone

like what’s up danger?”

You most likely met Damian first.

He was astonished by how much of a failure you were. Really, he wouldn’t have noticed you in the first place if you weren’t such a catastrophe. He knew you only got to his school via raffle but even the worst students here didn’t get complete zeroes on all their scores.

He was probably assigned to be your tutor. Which you remember vehemently refusing. After all you wanted to be expunged from this god awful preppy school filled with elites of all kinds. But nope — you were forced to get along with the worst of them all. Damian Wayne. Perhaps you’ve gone too far and should have settled for a 20 or something on that paper instead . . . or all those quizzes and assignments you purposely got zeroes on.

In any case you now had the Damian Wayne inside your house (if you even call it that) and a paper to write about your ambitions or whatever.

You were basically complete opposites. He was rich, you were below average if not just straight up poor. You even bet he was a daddy’s boy or some shit. (But who were you to judge when your first day at the school literally consisted of your father forcing you to say you love him . . . with the loudest speakers known to man!) He was probably into classical music and while you did enjoy the genre as well you were more of a hip-hop, trap, pop music sorta guy. He was known as a snob that didn’t take bullshit from anyone while you were literally the definition of a pushover.

But surprisingly you two clicked really well. It started with you off-handedly correcting one of his mistakes. It wasn’t supposed to reach his ears really. But the realization that you, the bottom feeder of all bottom feeders corrected him flustered him entirely. That moment stuck within his head for the entire week that it even slipped into his vigilante activities.

Like, after single-handedly decimating a group of people trying to rob a bank he just yells, “How the hell did I get that wrong?!” while that one dude pretending to be unconscious in the background so he wouldn’t get beaten up harder just stares at him in confusion and shock.

After he cools down a bit, he starts wondering how you got it right. He looks into your scores and notices everything before his intervention were literally straight zeroes. Not just in the classes you two shared. It was either you were extremely (un)lucky or . . . you knew every answer from the start.

So he starts taunting you. Forcing you to display your prowess. Calling you an idiot, poor, nobody when you didn’t relent to his provocation.

And so you did. You showed him that you really didn’t need help from him. That you were a genius in your own right. Capable of doing advanced arithmetics within seconds in your head. You were fascinating to him.

And maybe the fact that only he got to know this side of you — not your classmates or teachers, even your parents now that you’ve secured a dorm room close to him (courtesy of the Wayne name) — knew about your intelligence inflated his ego. If only you didn’t have a roommate that bothered you two once in a while. He was quite the annoyance with how the music in his headphones could be heard even across the room. Like seriously, how was the boy not deaf yet?

It was around that time you got your powers.

You began avoiding him (and everyone really) but mostly him (he’d convinced himself). You’d only come to his desk once in a while to tell him that you weren’t available for tutoring that day, or even that entire week. Not to mention your sudden growth in height and muscles. Were you going through . . . puberty? No wait— you’re older than him by a year! Perhaps you were a late bloomer? You probably just started a gym membership. But he didn’t spot you in any gyms throughout Gotham out on his patrol. Not even at your room at night…

That and your already sus scores and attitude prompted him to instigate an entire investigation.

Who was [Y/N] [L/N]?

He knew some facts about you just from your room, the fact that you enjoyed music of all sorts and art, more specifically the graphic - pop look. He even started noticing your name-tags that you’d put everywhere both in his civilian and vigilante life. Seriously, how were you able to put it atop this streetlamp of all places?

Then he started noticing how alike you two actually are. Aside from enjoying art and all, you were incredibly rebellious. You had a relationship with your dad that could only remind him of his with Bruce. He knew you probably get reprimanded for all the vandalism you’ve gotten up to all the time. A small smile graced his lips at the thought.

However this only made him question your avoidance even more. So he decided to take a step further and trail you as robin (even harder).

You were getting really close with this Gwen girl in class. He quipped in his head as he noticed you two walking together.

Were you . . . going to the gym to impress her?

You didn’t seem like the type to change yourself for the sake of others. Despite your downtrodden attitude about academics. He can see the hidden potential, that confidence he wanted out for him to witness and bask in. He wanted to see all sides of you he realized.

He wanted to be the only one who did.

But just as he was about to follow you two into a dark alleyway he gets called by Dick of all people to investigate something else. Something about a man trying to cross realities and universes? Pah, as if that was more important than this. Nightwing can handle himself. He couldn’t have his competence questioned though. So with a reluctant sigh, he takes off into the night sky. Wondering what the pair he followed could be doing.

[ PART TWO ] [ PART THREE ]

[kermitkrqb]

A Glimpse of Us || Xavier Thorpe x reader

A/n: Xavier Thorpe can *%#%* #%^ #%^* *+%# #%. 🤭 I thought I would pop in and feed my Xavier enthusiasts. Be sure to interact with me guys, I love hearing your comments 🫶🏼

What to expect: Gender neutral reader, enemies to lovers vibes but at the same time they have mega crushes on each other , academic rivals!!!, no spoilers here lovelies

Xavier Thorpe was the absolute bane of your existence. A force to be reckoned with, as much as you hated to admit it. The boy was as irritatingly sarcastic and outspoken as you were. You loved loathed it and had no problem in showcasing it. He, on the other hand, spent every waking opportunity getting a rise out of you, enjoying the way your cheeks flushed in rosy frustration. He claimed it was his “most favourite colour” to which you would of course scowl. The most frustrating part of it all was that the two of you shared the exact same schedule. It was as if the two of you were destined… to loathe each other of course. You refused to have it any other way, which is what you kept reminding yourself. You huffed trying to calm yourself as you walked down the hall to botanical sciences after a particularly humiliating instance with Xavier during fencing. He had you pinned down on the ground, your chest heaving as the tip of his blade hovered above you claiming the final point of the match.

You recalled his dastardly green eyes twinkling with amusement as you laid beneath him flushed with embarrassment. You scoffed at the memory and internally berated yourself as you made your way to class not noticing how the lanky brunette caught up to you. His long legs striding quicker than usual just to walk next to you. A cocky grin stretched out across his face, “Good game, huh?” No response, you were adamant in ignoring him. He leaned in, his breath tickling your ear, “I especially liked the part where you were sprawled out under me.” You shot your head up, a twinge of pink dusting your face, as your fiery eyes bore into his, “Oh yeah? Glad I made your dreams come true. Must be tiring having to draw me like that all the time without seeing the real thing.” Xavier gasped slightly, he had been caught. Although he would never admit it, he was impressed with your response but also scolded himself for being so obvious in drawing you. About to retort, his words died in his mouth as you both arrived at Thornhill’s class and you rushed to your seat.

The two of you were assigned seats on opposite sides of the room per Thornhill’s request to “maintain the order of peace”. Both of you reluctantly obliged wanting everything nothing to do with each other. Putting your books on your desk, you watched as the long haired boy put his hands up in surrender when Ms Thornhill gave him a warning glance before he could spark anything between the two of you. Xavier of course caught your gaze, giving you a wink to which you responded with a sarcastic smile. Class had soon started as the two of you settled down. The botany professor hoped for at least one peaceful lesson, but her hopes were soon destroyed the moment she quizzed the class, “Can anyone tell me the name of this flower?” You smirked to yourself, this was just too easy. Your hand shot up, eager to grab any participation points you could get. The brunette glanced at you from his seat at the front, upon seeing your raised hand, he followed putting up his own.

The class was quiet not wanting to interfere with the growing tension. Whilst being the only two people with raised hands, Ms Thornhill ignored this not wanting to further fuel your rivalry, “Anyone?” Your fellow classmates look to each other in amusement as Thornhill sighed. She notions for you to state the answer seeing as you were the first to raise your hand. You grin, having seemingly beat the artist in the front row, “Ms, It’s the-” A cheeky smile is on Xavier’s face as he interrupts you, “the Black Dahlia.” Thornhill sighs and prepares for the disruption ahead of her. You breath in deeply whilst looking ahead, “It’s botanical name being Black Narcissus.” She gives you an approving look, “Very well done, Y/n.” You glance over to Xavier, only to see that he was already looking at you. His cheeky smile only widens further when the two of you make eye contact. He decides to tease you mouthing, ‘Pay attention.’ You’re about to reply when the botany professor interrupts your little interaction, “L/n and Thorpe, if you would stop staring each other and listen that would be greatly appreciated.”

The class laughs as the two of you pull yourselves together, Xavier clearing his throat in embarrassment at Thornhill’s implications. Both of you are now too embarrassed to look at each other in fear of being called out like that again. Thornhill looks pleased with herself as the rest of the lesson continues on without disruption from the two of you. At least it was a somewhat peaceful lesson. Botanical sciences soon finishes, and seeing as it was your last class for the day, you made your way back to your dorm for a nap after that exhausting day. Unbeknownst to you, in his respective dorm, Xavier was about to do the same. Taking a cold shower, the tall boy’s mind ran free. Every time he closed his eyes, you were there. Your face tinted pink as he got a rise out of you, the smirk plastered on your face as you competed against him, and finally, the way your chest heaved as you were sprawled out under him.

Xavier groaned splashing his face with more cold water. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. Drying himself off with his towel, he quickly got dressed in comfortable clothes. His hair still slightly damp as he laid in bed staring at the ceiling. He didn’t want to doze off yet. The artist leaned over and felt around on the floor for one of his sketchbooks, his slender fingers grabbing the cover as he finally found it. It didn’t take much flipping for him to find a sketch of you. After all, you were his muse. He would never admit it out loud, although, after today’s interaction he knew you had caught on. He smiled fondly at one of his first sketches of you. On the page your fiery eyes gazed up at him as your face was deeply flushed pink. He couldn’t recall what he said to get that reaction out of you, and he didn’t really care. As long as he still got that beautiful tint on your face. He wasn’t lying when he said it was his most favourite colour.

Without realising it, he started to doze off at the thought of you. A soft smile plastered on his face as he began to nap. Xavier hadn’t dreamed of any visions for a while although that would quickly change. His eyes fluttered open, confusion etched on his face as the daylight peaked through his dorm window. An arm was wrapped across his bare chest, his breath hitched as he tilted his head to the side. He could just make out your face under the covers. You were snuggled into his side with a soft expression he’d rarely seen before. Catching his eyes you grinned, “Finally you’re awake sleepyhead. I thought I was gonna be trapped under you for eternity.” The vision shifted and the Thorpe boy was now watching himself in third person. Xavier smirked in return, “You’d like that a little too much.” The two of you then shared a sweet kiss, Xavier’s chin now resting on the top of your head. He reminded you, “Remember to be ready by 8:00pm for our dinner.” You smiled looking up at him through your lashes, “How could I forget? Our second anniversary.”

Xavier shot out of bed sitting up. Like all of his visions that he would have in his sleep, it was extremely vivid and clear. His hand ran through his long hair, “Our second anniversary.” He whispered. His vision confirmed it all, even if the tall boy was still in partial denial in regards to your feelings. Obvious to everyone except you, he liked you of course. He just never knew if his feelings would ever make their way past playful bickering and into something more. Xavier wasn’t stupid, the vision obviously confirmed your feelings towards him too. Even before the vision he could tell, especially in the way you brightened up in class when you saw him, the small smile you would try to hide after he would tease you, and if your blush wasn’t a dead giveaway- he wouldn’t know what he’d do. He just didn’t want to be wrong and ruin everything between the two of you. A plan hatched in the mischievous boys mind, he knew you would be extremely stubborn if he outright told you about his vision but, he knew just how to make you crack.

A/n: Part 2 is already written, let me know if you guys want me to release it.

[callisteios]

I ended up with "god of longing for connection", which is funny given my current situation (housing/attempting to get comics into animation etc) and I'm noticing that some others are getting deep sea god (when they're actually studying the deep ocean as their major) etc... so my q is, are you somehow an ancient greek oracle pointing things out using modern technology to see what the mortals do with this knowledge? (Also thanks for a fun quiz)

you're going to get a long answer for no other reason than I'm at work and I hate my job. sorry

like way to long. i am so sorry.

So.

personality stuff

I'm going to say that first and foremost I am a massive skeptic when it comes to stuff like personality types, astrology etc. I think a lot of these things are people making very broad statements which many people identify with and become more convinced of their reality. a messy rabbit hole. I'm hardly the first to say this so lets move on

I also am a massive fan of personality quizzes (done well) and things like tarot ( i literally love doing tarot readings does anyone want a tarot reading). so not super well meshing opinions you may say?

yes.

however. i make them fit like this. I don't think all people can be split into 12 or 16 or whatever number of groups. I do think there are many shared human experiences and emotions. I know that most people taking my quiz are of a smiliar age and mostly western. This means we have even more shared experiences in this very global world.

I also know that from a lifetime of studying people and trying to understand their motivations (thank you autism (in case you couldn't tell)) I have got reasonably good at understanding various types of feelings and states people experience. and yes i suppose 'types' of people.

From this observation I have understood that (on top of us living in a very similar/global environment) we all (not all but basically all) go through the same emotions at some point during our lives.

From this experience and my understanding of our shared reality and feelings it is not exceptionally hard for me to then craft a quiz and retroactively apply the answers.

Example:

I'm going to give an example here because I feel my explanation has got incredibly rambly. Uh spoilers for my god quiz

Let's look at this result: the sky and the earth (because it's one of my favourites)

the first thing i'd say about this is that it's literally based on one of my favourite songs of all time. written while the author was in a mental instition no less (stream dory previn). so i am hardly the first to identify this 'type'.

When i look at this result and am assigning answers for it, several things about it stick out to me. Its main focus is the in between feeling, the longing for more spirtuality but also a desire for the physical and real. while at the same time feeling as if those are very confliced desires. there's obviously more to it but i can only hold so much info in my brain.

i think this is a state many in modern society will experience as we live in such a new and confusing and separate world. i am exposed to more of the world every day, and yet i feel as if i understand it less. the opportunities for me to truly experience the natrual are few and far between. i want to crawl around upon the earth. i want to see the stars and be enlightened.

knowing this i will say

does someone who is sky and earth want to be a god?

(this was the hardest question for literally every type btw.) here i'd say yes. because only something divine can be two opposing concepts surely. surely to know the sky and earth is an impossible goal for a mortal.

ok moving on (im not doing this for every quesion, don't worry, just a couple more to hammer home the point)

this one was harder. i was torn between fruit, dedicated to one issue, and drowning. I think all fit but went for dedicated in the end

for this one i knew i was using a picture of an iguana and i thought iguanas come from deserts so i chose desert. they're not all hits

this one was so easy. to me the confluence of rivers, bringing together something that's normally apart. that felt like the duality of sky and earth to me.

basically the exact same thing as above with mutilation.

i chose the painting of the building surrounded by people. i felt like this building crushed between the sky and the earth, looked upon by passers by, felt like a monument to the dichotomy. when i am feeling sky and earth i feel like the building, i cannot move or touch or really experience. i am just stationary watching it all move around me

So you see. I have identified here an emotion which i felt, which i have witnessed others feeling. i have identified the likely responses i believe a person in this state would give and i hope for the best.

Tarot

OKay you definitely get the point bt now. but i am nowhere near done, i mentioned tarot earlier. there was a reason for this beyond me wanting to do more tarot readings.

I think even though im good, i am really not that good. one thing i have noted over doing many tarot readings is that often the subject needs incredibly little input from the reader. oh, they may need your help guiding them towards the symbolism on the card, but once they've got that they launch into an explanation of how this answers their question.

Because I Always make sure they ask a clear question. this to me is the most important part of any kind of reading or quiz. you want the person to think about this themselves and then perhaps help them to the conclusion. once they're at the results screen/have a card they already have some idea in mind. it doesn't matter if they were expecting something a bit different, this is just a vehicle for their own self truth anyway.

ok im done.

i am a god

woah woah woah. im not done though. you're talking to a classicist so ive GOT to address the oracle comment. my favourite oracle of delphi theory is that the oracle's chamber sat above some kind of natural gas deposit, this gas was possibly hallucinatory. The oracles would get high and then deliver prophesies. I believe that if you combined my observation with powerful drugs I could come up with prophesies like "if your empire goes to war with another empire a great empire will fall ;)". Therefore, yes i am. and i'm taking requests ;)

tldr? uh. i take very universal feelings, use some skill to present those to people most likely to identify with them, they do a bunch of the work

/tldr i am a divine prophet and would like my place at a nice temple and access to good drugs asap

[trans-advice]

Not me taking gender identity quizzes and smiling like a lunatic every time a quiz correctly genders me as male. I even had a quiz assume I was cisgender male and I almost died of happiness. Is that wrong for me to feel that way? I feel like I'm invalidating my trans identity.

First of all your gender identity is valid. You are the one who gets the vote because you are the only one who has to be you 24/7 for your entire lifetime. Your gender identity is a "male". Screw the gatekeepers!

Gender affirmation art etc is meant to combat the gaslighting committed against us by cisnormative racial capitalist patriarchy. (The methods they've used against us are horrendous & I'd trigger myself if I brought them up.) People sharing affirmations, etc, is meant to help people with fewer spoons (such as fatigue from stereotype threat & minority stress) to be able to have things they do. Point being is, you were already affirming to yourself, you're just getting help from others in getting things to ground yourself with. Screw the gaslighters!

Second of all, demographics are not monoliths, and there's diversity among, to use your specific case, males, both cis & trans. Demographics are different from relationships are different from communities are different from leadership are different from activists. Point being, the reference points are obviously not going to include everyone.

Thirdly, gender euphoria & happiness are awesome, take it where you can get it. If you feel awkward about where you're getting it from, then look for more sources. I do sense you're feeling some alienation from these quizzes so I'm going to explore that now.

Gender identity are not to do with gender (non)conformity. Trans vs cis to do with whether your gender identity matches the one that was assigned/designated for you. A personality quiz should only ask your assigned gender at birth if they're going to gauge your transness or cisness, and based on what you're saying it seems the quizzes are conflating transness & gender nonconformity together, so based on what you're saying I get what you mean by thinking that they might be doing a micro aggression of thinking trans is gender-lite and cis is gender-full strength.

You then ask whether you should feel as if you're turning your back on the trans community for this gender affirmation? My answer would be no. However, for purposes of operating as a community, I think discussing say toxic/settler masculinity with say communal/decolonial/decarceral masculinity would be something to explore. But I would also say this would be on the basis of ethics instead of saying what gender identity you are. Screw the bosses of racial capitalist patriarchy!

TLDR: if you think you aren't supporting the trans community enough, then seek out opportunities to be with trans people & even lgbtqia+ people. Misgendering yourself does not support the community.

Good Luck, Peace & Love,

Eve

[luvdsc]

[!] TEASER — barbie girl.

if life is plastic (and therefore, nonbiodegradable), then it’s so not fantastic. honestly, who came up with that? regina george really should’ve googled about the new plastics economy.

or alternatively, pretty girls rule the world, and you find out that he’s (not) all that.

pairing :: na jaemin x reader genre :: comedy, angst, fluff ⋮ makeover + college au word count :: 1,548 out of est. 15k - 20k words warnings :: jujutsu kaisen spoilers, body issues, body image, weight mentions, insecurities, beauty is a social construct, lana and moon taking pity on my extremely lacking anime knowledge and helping me out, so much gaslighting that you can start a wildfire and j*ke gyll*nh*al should take notes, “if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing” playlist :: barbie girl (aqua) ⋆ pretty boys (romi) ⋆ look what you made me do (taylor swift) ⋆ invu (taeyeon) + extended playlist coming soon. author’s note :: i love she’s all that with my whole heart, but i’ve always been very //: at the whole makeover trope and decided to write my own version, so take that as you will !! ↳ part of the 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 collaboration series.

Na Jaemin does not know that you exist.

Good looking, charismatic, and popular — it’s his world, and you’re just living in it. Or something like that. You’re decently smart, somewhat funny, and not pretty enough to stand out, but not exactly hideous according to societal standards (source: those beauty quizzes you used to be obsessed with in  Cosmopolitan when you were thirteen and in desperate need of flirting tips). If he was the main lead, you’d probably be Extra #6, maybe Extra #2 on a good day.

By your calculations, the two of you should never cross paths, like two parallel lines. Wait, scratch that, you would probably never be aligned with anything that has to do with this guy. You saw him standing outside of the door to your shared accounting classroom back in freshman year, and he spent twenty five minutes editing his picture for Instagram and ended up late for the lecture. Absolute idiot. Absolute handsome idiot, but idiot nonetheless. A grade A himbo with a grade C in financial accounting.

Okay, so scrap the parallel lines theory, maybe skew lines are a better way of explaining it. Yeah, that seems about right, the two of you are from completely different dimensions, never meant to interact or run parallel with each other. And once again, by this logic, your paths should never cross.

“Y/N!”

You stand corrected.

Na Jaemin does know that you exist.

You suddenly remember that there was that one small group presentation in that very same aforementioned accounting class, and you were assigned to the same group as Jaemin. Armed with this rediscovered memory, you are going to revise your earlier response and say that the correct descriptor for your relationship is perpendicular lines. That sounds right. Final answer. You’re locking it in.

Your paths should have only intersected once, the two of you should be going in different directions, and even though you’re in another class with him again this semester, not once have the two of you had a proper conversation with each other (He asked you to pass a note once, but that barely counts). Jaemin should have forgotten you by now, and you should be continuing on with your side character life that you’re very much content with.

So then why on earth is he shouting your name like you’re old friends and causing what feels like every person within a one mile radius to stare at you?

He’s unknowingly giving you your main character moment, and you very quickly realize that you do not feel like the Y/N in any one of those Gojo fanfics you read religiously at three in the morning when you should really be studying or sleeping.

Instead, you feel like a bug watching its impending doom as a Doc Marten boot starts to descend at an alarming speed and you can’t even try to scuttle out of the way to avoid it. Frozen in your spot, you can only watch as your university’s it boy skids to a stop in front of you after running across the grass and flashing you his million dollar smile. “Hey, Y/N, right? We have ECON 13 together.”

Starstruck, your mind to mouth filter is completely shot, and all you manage to let out is a very uncool “Uh huh.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, and you feel like all the oxygen has been knocked out of your lungs, too. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Jaemin tilts his head to the side slightly, the sunlight catching his profile perfectly, and your breath hitches in your throat once more.

“I know this is gonna sound really, uh, forward since we barely know each other and all, but—”

You’re barely listening to him, your heart pounding in your chest and the blood rushing to your ears. It’s pretty embarrassing to see how a near stranger with a pretty face can affect you this much. You really thought you had a much stronger willpower than this, but it’s so goddamn unfair how this boy standing in front of you has the most perfectly sculpted face you’ve ever seen. Plus, his eyelashes? Why the hell do boys always get the prettiest, thickest, and darkest lashes?

Meanwhile, you’re out here struggling to force your perpetually straight, stubby lashes into a curl that ends up lasting only a couple hours, even when you use waterproof mascara. You still end up with flat lashes and you have to feverishly scrub your eyes to remove the blasted makeup and lose a few cherished lashes in the process.

“—out with me?” Jaemin finishes, and you belatedly realize that you did not catch a single word that he said, caught in your inner monologue and too busy ogling. However, your heart flutters in your chest when you catch the last part of his question. Not to be too presumptuous, but it sounds like he’s asking you out. Why else would anyone randomly stop you like this and talk to you for this long? You’re positively giddy at this revelation. This is your moment, the one you’ve been waiting for your whole life, like Rapunzel waiting in her tower for the one to come and save her from her horribly mundane, repetitive life.

“Oh! Um… yes?” It’s a 50/50 chance between yes or no, and you hope that’s the correct answer he’s looking for.

Jaemin’s face immediately brightens, and he turns his smile up another kilowatt, nearly blinding you. You grin back at him, squinting a little. This must be how Icarus felt when he flew towards the sun.

“Oh shit, really? You’re really agreeing to tutor me? Hyuck—you know, our class’s peer TA—said I was a hopeless cause, and I would need way more one on one lessons outside of his hours and all that if I wanted to pass. And yeah, I know I could probably bitch at him until he caves since we’re kind of friends, but he would also hold this over my head, but he said you had the highest score on last week’s midterm, so I thought, ‘hey, why not shoot my shot?’” He shoots another smile your way, pausing for a quick breath. Your mind is racing a mile a minute, and his smile isn’t helping whatsoever as your heart decides to join in this race as well until it sinks when you finally process his words.

“Wait, Donghyuck said that about me?” you manage to get out, a little dazed, and Jaemin confirms before eagerly continuing on with his chatter, but all you can do is stupidly nod as the word “TUTOR” spins around and around in your mind in bold, italicized, underlined mocking red letters in Times New Roman font, size 12, double spaced, MLA format, the whole shebang.

Of course, he only wants a tutor. What made you think that a boy like him would look twice at a girl like you? The only other time a guy has ever expressed interest in you is to share homework answers for Calculus back in 10th grade (For the record, all of his answers were completely wrong, but Sungchan was a cute distraction).

“Anyways, can I have your number? I can text you to match our schedules and figure out the times to meet up for the next couple of weeks before our next midterm.” You remain wide eyed, gazing at him like a deer caught in the headlights and still attempting to fully understand everything that has just happened.

Jaemin looks at you expectantly, his hand outstretched towards you with his phone tucked between his fingers. The device dangles there for an additional ten seconds that probably isn’t socially acceptable. Grab the phone, you scream at yourself silently, but your body doesn’t seem to want to cooperate.

“Or, I can just… uh, type in your number if you tell me,” Jaemin says awkwardly, his smile wilting slightly as he shifts from one foot to the other under your unwavering gaze and slowly retracting his hand. Finally, you come to your senses as you quickly spring into action and snatch the phone from him, tapping in your digits and adding in your name and shared class before saving your contact.

“Here,” you mutter, returning his phone, and he gives you a relieved grin. You clutch onto the strap of your backpack a little tighter, cursing the way your heart skips a beat. “I should be free most weekday afternoons since I prefer to take all morning classes, but let me know when you’re free and we can work something out.”

“Awesome! Thank you so much, Y/N, you’re a life saver.” Jaemin beams at you, touching your shoulder briefly and you feel that very same place on your body erupt in flames as your face heats up in a similar manner. “I’ll text you tonight, yeah?”

You can only numbly nod, subconsciously raising your hand and waving at him, and Jaemin chuckles, flashing his pearly whites at you again, before he saunters off and blends into a group of other equally pretty and popular students, a few of whom look over at you with vague interest before turning their attention back to the boy who just joined them.

What have you gotten yourself into?

COMING SOON — 2022.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

okay okay could i request some nsfw with professor!techno giving a little extra praise to one of his students and asking to see them after class (presumably a bad grade of sort, but thats most certainty not the case). I love your writing by the way !! could i be <3 anon?? thank you so muchhh !!!! :DD

˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ welcome <3 anon ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆

im going fucking feral for this idea, thank you for gifting it to me. i- my mind went to dark academia!techno and i lost it. if y'all know me irl, you don't after this. also this techno fanart by EtecteraArt, if you don't have clear skin yet.

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒. ⚚ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫!𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨

pairing: professor!technoblade x fm!reader

± warnings: nsfw (minors dni), pure filth, professor/student, slight degradation, domination, minimal dialogue

It started out as shameless flirting for you. You’d wear the most revealing thing your closet held, crossing your legs and leaning over to pick up a pencil just so you could show him the curvature of your body. You’d tie your hair up or pull it away from your neck when you answered one of his questions, basking in the slight smirk painting his face as his eyes surveyed your movements. You chewed on the ends of your pens and wore a shade of lipstick you knew would draw in his attention. You were positive your fellow lecture members cast their eyes downward at you, believing he was giving you special treatment just because you toyed with him. 

You made sure to show him you knew what you were talking about and actively studying his assignments and works published by him. You were, in a word, hopelessly obsessed with Techno. This obsession led to his appraisal in class when you could fully grasp a more advanced concept he had posed. You didn’t even care about the other girls’ glared burning into your shoulder from behind you as he favored you over them. 

One day in particular, you came to class a bit earlier with a coffee for him in your hand. You stopped before entering, pressing your back against the outside wall beside the door as you heard a feminine voice cooing to him. You smugly enjoyed the tone of his voice as he countered their attempts to hit on him with a grace only a man like him could muster. He thanked the woman for coming in and told her that his office hours were open if she needed actual help on an assignment. You swiped your thumb across your bottom lip before smearing the hue of your lipstick against the white plastic lid of the coffee cup. It was barely noticeable, something only he would take note of. 

The woman exited the room, brushing your shoulder as she went past you. The two of you shared a look that could equate to two territorial wolves in a dispute. The only leverage you had was that he never shot you down, in fact, you noticed he usually enjoyed your under-the-collar comments. As you turned into the room, you noticed him lean back in his chair, running his fingers into his short pink hair and shutting his eyes slightly with a sigh. 

You chewed the corner of your cheek as you approached the lecture desk, his eyes prying open with a small smile as he spotted you. “Good morning, Professor,” you hummed, setting the coffee in front of him. He sent you a hint of a grateful look as students began to file into the room. You turned on your heel and walked to find your seat, swaying your hips slightly, only because you knew he was staring after you. 

As you settled in, you watched Techno bring the cup towards his mouth before his eyes darted to the edge of the lid. With the ghost of a smirk swirling into his expression, he looked up to make direct eye contact with you before pressing his lips to the spot and drinking from the cup. Your breath hitched, heat pulsing through your body at the slight gesture from him. You studied him as he swallowed, letting his tongue dart out to wet his lips as if he were further savoring the mild taste of you from the lid; something an outsider wouldn’t have noticed. 

You clenched your thighs together as you thought about his rejection of other girl’s advances while now he was practically eye-fucking you from across the lecture hall. 

That lecture had been an hour and a half of agony. Your tongue wettened as he twisted a pen in his hand absent-mindedly as he lectured on Eros, his eyes surveying your reactions as he’d quietly roll the pen in his fingers. You weren’t sure how he could have such an effect on you without even touching you. You knew the other girls were squirming in their seats as he sat on the edge of his desk, leaning his elbows on his knees as he answered questions towards the end. 

All you wanted to do was get out of the lecture hall and do what you always did after his class: shower in cold water and plan your next phase of attack. 

Techno had other plans. 

He called out your name at the end of class, meeting your eyes as he instructed you to meet him for office hours. You hear someone whine next to you, nearly making you laugh as you agreed. 

And that’s how you found yourself, pulling the door shut to his office behind you. He dug into a folder on his desk, setting a copy of your latest essay in front of him. Your eyes raked down his arms as he pulled his gold-rimmed glasses on top of his head and leaned over his desk, muscle tightening against the rolled sleeves of his shirt. “Come take a look at this,” he stated. Your eyes darted to the red pen marks, his handwriting only scripting praise on the first page. You knew you aced that essay before you’d even turned it into him. 

You smirked to yourself, dropping your bag beside one of his client chairs and mimicking his stance, planting your hands in the space between his. The size of him dwarfed you, making your mind race vulgarly. This was always how it was, you invading his personal space and him teasing you to go further. “What am I looking at, Professor?” You quizzed sheepishly, feigning innocence. 

You leaned your weight on one of your hands, the fingers of the other tracing closer to his large hand. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you just barely close enough to him that you could feel his breath. Your cheeks flushed, goosebumps spreading over your body. “You think I can’t see what you’re doing?” He needled, voice dropping an octave to send heat straight to your core. 

You gulped, practically tasting him he was so close to you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor. But I could learn,” you avowed; your words barely above a whisper. For a moment, you truly believed he would kiss you, his breath cascading over your face with sweet hints of mint and the coffee you’d bought him. 

His lips barely brushed against yours before he pulled away, sending fire to burn in your chest and your knees to turn to jelly. He stood back, his eyes dancing with a mocking ego, knowing he had you on a leash. He lowered into his seat, pressing his back against the leather of his chair, fingers tugging at his collar to undo a few buttons as he looked at your shocked and submissive frame. He chuckled darkly as he eyed you. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. You’re just a child,” he teased. 

You had half a mind to dig into your bag and sign over your ID to prove you were the opposite of his beratement. Instead, you let your breathing shallow, slowly walking around his desk. He tilted his head at you, watching you intently as you placed your hand on the back of his chair, and pushing him away from his desk. As you lowered to your knees, you allowed that hand to travel the length of his body. As your knees settled against the cold linoleum in front of him, you raked your nails down his thighs, making him chuckle softly, a sardonic expression flickering across his face. 

You sharpened your eye contact, your fingers nearly hooking around his belt loops. “Teach me then, Professor. Use me,” you practically begged, making Techno smirk, his hand moving to rest in the crook of your neck while the other supported his head. 

His fingers felt coarse against your skin, the feeling of him finally touching you nearly was enough to send you over the edge. You turned your head, pressing your lips to the inside of his wrist. “So needy. Like a lost puppy vying for my attention,” he mocked, gaze dancing from your lips to your eyes. “What would your boyfriend think of you like this? On your knees in front of a grown man.” His voice dripped with lust and restraint, yet he was completely calm and utterly in control. 

His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, almost mimicking your gesture from earlier as if he’d pictured your actions with his coffee lid. “I don’t have a boyfriend, Professor. And if I did, I doubt he would taste as good as you,” you muttered, silently signing over your soul to him. 

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he debated what to do with you first. He pressed his thumb into your mouth, flattening your tongue with his finger pad. Your lips instantly closed around him, looking up at him with doe eyes. “Stop talking, pet,” he grumbled, the rest of his fingers angling your face closer to him and he leaned towards you. “If you’re going to beg like a toy, I’ll treat you like a toy,” he promised, making your heart flutter. 

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, only to wrap his hands around your throat, bringing your lips against his roughly. You moaned at the taste of him, wanting to swim against his tongue and give him your dying breath. He groaned into your mouth, kneading your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Techno tugged you to your feet, wrapping his hands around your thighs before pushing you on top of his desk. His hand slipped into your shirt, palming your breast while his other gripped at the flesh of your ass, pulling you closer to him as he ground his hips against yours. You tugged your hands through his soft hair, tugging slightly and savoring the moans he poured into your mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to alleviate whatever distance there was between the two of you. 

Your fingers moved to skim down his toned body, unzipping his pants and palming his cock outside of his boxers. His lips moved to dig his teeth into your shoulder, muffling his groans of praise as he ground against your hand. You panted at the loss of his lips on yours, digging your nose into the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply as he moaned your name. You were convinced you were trapped in one of your many daydreams involving him, but with each nip of his teeth sending a flush of pleasure to your core, you were reminded that he was in fact, about to ruin you. 

Techno pulled you off the desk, spinning you in his hold and bending you over the hardwood. You bit back a smirk as you heard him undo the rest of his zipper and discard his belt behind you. The anticipation of him made your knees shake as your hot breath drew clouds of moisture on his desk. His fingers pushed your skirt further up your hips, blunt nails dragging along the skin of your legs before gripping your hips. You felt him grind himself against your entrance, your mind already blurring with pleasure. He kicked your feet further apart. “God, I've wanted to do this for so long," he nearly growled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade before pushing himself into you. 

You moan, your body adjusting around his length, begging him for more. His hands gripped your hips, driving himself deeper into you, beginning an animalistic pace. You groaned out his name, one of his hands holding tightly onto your side to give himself more leverage. Your mind blurred, mouth hanging open slightly as your cheek was pressed firmly against the wood of his desk. 

Each of his thrusts sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins, as his deep, breathy moans hissed into your ear like a sinful symphony. His hand moved to thread his fingers through yours, giving you some kind of anchor as his large frame wreaked havoc on your body. You whimpered out moans of arousal with each of his movements. 

His teeth grazed against your neck again, dragging himself deeper into you. You picked your head up, reaching out one of your hands to grip the edge of the desk, hearing him chuckle behind you. His hand snaked around you to wrap around your neck, bringing you up a bit further as he pressed his lips to one of your flushed cheeks, probably basking in the beads of sweat dotting your hairline from his campaign. 

"Mark me," you begged. "I'm yours," you moaned, rolling your hips back against him. The satisfied moan that slithered from his lips sent goosebumps spreading against your skin. 

He dug his teeth into you, finger tightening around your neck and you knew the brushes he left would be enough of a sultry reminder to keep you wet for a week. 

He pulled you upward, pulling out of you only to put you back on his desk, pushing himself into you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His lips melded against yours again, stealing your muttering of his name and replacing it with his hungry moans. 

You ground your hips into him, wrapping around him again as his lips moved to your neck, breath cold against the cold spots from his teeth previously and the thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. With the new angle and his hands digging into your back, your legs were beginning to shake, the tension he'd been binding was becoming too much to hold off. 

His hand tightened around your throat as if encouraging you to finish. He pulled your irritated lips towards him again, wanting to taste you as you went over the edge. 

After that day, you stopped dressing so provocatively. You could wear a turtleneck and padded jeans and you knew he'd still be looking. He knew what you looked like under those clothes: marked up from his teeth, quivering only for him. No longer was there shameless flirting, only glances that told you to wait for him after class. 

He was always hungry for you; whether it be in his car in a vacant lot, in his office to test his chair's range of movement, or in the bathroom of some random club you probably didn't have the qualifications to get into without him. It didn't matter, because he knew that you were his. 

You liked watching the other girls throw themselves at him like you had, mainly because he'd always praise you later with your lips around his cock. You were his favorite, his star student. In his eyes, you didn't hold a candle to the rest of them. 

[solarstellarstar]

“Fumika Solar, correct?”

—Standing there presently by the door outside of the homeroom——earlier just a few minutes ago right after a few knocks from him was answered and thus his request towards the main teacher of the homeroom to summon a particular student was then granted, —

—A couple minutes of silence was maintained as he remained postured outside the classroom calmly, throughout the brief process of the order of presence to finally show up eventually in his sight and stand in the height not considered the most common for a female student to have—

—Looking down at her howbeit, from the mere ambience and vibe which he is receiving coming from her sole presence alone --before even judging from her over accesorized of looks and appearance —

—he can easily tell that she isn't one that comes with an ordinary status, and from what he can predict and instinct or primarily assumed for a fact-- she might or might not be someone that works close to an idol--or even be part of the industry itself, for its saying—

—but that still doesn't excuse herself for acting all stuck up and righteous from such a status, much as the reason what had led him all the way from his silent inhabitation in one of his detention room marking the quizzes and assignments submitted by the students which he personally tutor-- —

—The significant frown of displeasure on his face aside from that usual signature blank look of an expression painted as general quotidian was enough the evidence to show that someone had indeed gotten themselves within the realms troubled waters —

—As whether they are considered lucky or not that the person in charge to resolve this matter considered disciplinary violations is him and not the Headmaster himself who first--or rather seconded discovered such a matter of a minor setback of the harmonious and supposedly comfortable environment of a school for everyone without much of the double standards applied, for awhile, he didn't intend to step in in anyway as-- well, quite bias of him for doing so considering the circumstances faced almost mutual-- yet given different positions, not-- —

—But--Well, anyway-- that's up for them to decide ——

—Or should I say in this case, Miss Fumika Solar to decide, whether the ‘destiny’ which she had ended up upon over the consequences of her quite distasteful behavior in school recently—

—is worth a misunderstanding to be justified —

—Or a crime to be condemned with a rational punishment —

“—Come with me.”

—facing such a fidgeting and seemingly unnerving student, he tend not to delay anymore of his precious time especially to linger outside in the hallway full eyes of the inquisitive and of unrelated business darted towards their presence-- —

—turning away, he didn't watch and wait for the other to react as he started heading off himself towards the direction of where one of his empty rooms of detention is situated, expecting the other behind to tag along much as his ears were perceiving of such movement despite not from his eyes, that he look forward to hear without the further of a saying—

—much as she should be doing thereon from this point onward where she had marked herself questionable to a fact to be ended up in such a ‘crime’—

—that is worth a consultation to be conclude with a resolvement for once and for the sake of all——

[Solar's charming smile dissolves upon hearing her full name being called out by someone outside the classroom. She peers out in curiosity and much to her dismay- it was the teacher who many of her own fans loved. A man who had a fair share of his own charms but still had a demanding and critical demeanour, especially when dealing with students that got themselves onto the bad side of school discipline]

[Some of the other students in the classroom made an amused and interested 'ooooh' sound in unison, suggesting that Solar was in fact in trouble. This caused her to frown in annoyance and glared at the people surrounding her in response]

"!!"

[Before she could catch another glance of the man's displeased and intimidating expression, he had already turned around and began to walk off after commanding her to leave the classroom and follow him]

[With all eyes on her plus the nod of agreement from the teacher of the homeroom, the girl had no choice but to follow his order. Her expression screamed, "Geez, can't you just wait for me and slow down?!" as she rose from her seat and carefully pushed through her small circle of fangirls and fanboys to get to the door]

[Unfortunately, her balance slightly falters due to the unusual nature of her strap heels- but Solar's determined to not let any other obstacle humiliate her anymore as she grips to her surroundings for support]

["Whatever could I have done to end up in such circumstances like this?" She thought to herself as all the incidents that occurred in the current day replayed over and over in her mind. From what the idol-in-training could remember, none of her antics atoned for the sudden 'pulling out of class' incident like this. But of course, every little movement of hers was automatically justified in her mindset in order to adapt to this perfect, innocent image she had of herself]

[After she's finally able to match up to the man's speed, despite her shoes hindering her movement, she questions him:]

"What... do you exactly need me for?"

[Her words don't leave her mouth without a tinge of cautiousness and distrust, however.]

[haifengg]

Pairing: NanamixGN!Reader

Note: I think I got this ask quite a while ago but due to my hiatus it got postponed a million times. Now that I am slowly coming back and am publishing the bits and pieces I wrote during being away this A-Z is finally leaving my drafts as well.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Given his S/O is a sorcerer as well I think he would limit PDA at work to a minimum. Even if they are officially together or even married. He just likes to separate work and home. Tho it doesn’t mean that he is not making small intimate gestures at work like randomly dropping in with coffee or - when they are on a mission - sending a text asking how they are doing.

At home he is pretty affectionate. Randomly pulling them in for a hug, giving small back rubs when they are doing the dishes after he cooked. This kind of thing.

B = Before (What were they like when they had a crush?) Distant. Nanami would probably be a person who maybe actually mistakes the feeling for some other emotion at first. Leaving him confused about why he thinks about them so much. The poor man would likely be irritated every time they are nice to him. Why the heck doesn’t his heart stop pounding? And why is he suddenly excited to go to work? Disappointed when he is not assigned the same mission as them? Or - if they aren’t a sorcerer - sad when a mission takes him away from wherever he met them for too long?

C = Confession (What was their confession like?) Well-planned and straight forward. Nanami was already observing them for a while before making a move. Although he doesn’t actually confess it is pretty obvious when he likes someone because it happens so rarely. Just imagine him asking someone out for dinner. That gives away so much - don’t you agree?

D = Date (What was the first official date they went on?) If we don’t count the dinner mentioned above … I guess it would be something like a gallery. Nanami would definitely want to test his s/o’s taste in art because it tells a lot about a person’s character. What kind of art they prefer (paintings, photography, sculptures, … ) and how they look at it as well.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Professionally. He would state the fact on why they aren’t compatible anymore and what made him draw this conclusion. I don’t think either one of them would cheat on the other mainly because Nanami wouldn’t get into a relationship with someone capable of doing that in the first place (I hope). He would sit down with his (not) s/o and talk it through. There might be tears on the other side but not on his. He thought about it a lot and made peace with his feelings before starting this conversation.

F = Fights (What would fights look like? What are things that upset them?) Kento barely looses his temper. And if he does I wouldn’t say that it is necessarily a bad thing. Getting him so worked up about something does only mean he cares. Fights would mostly be on the calmer/diplomatic side. He might be upset about something but there is no need for him to yell or anything. If the problem can be resolved just by talking about it - great! Why waste his precious energy on negative things, when he can use them elsewhere?

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) We all know - and all those rough sm*t fan fictions can’t proof me wrong - that he probably is the most gentle character in entire JJK. He despises the violence of his job therefore he doesn’t want to inflict pain or anything on anyone on his good side. Especially his S/O. Nanami has the most gentle touch, fleeing kisses, he will hold them tight but never smother them.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) As mentioned above: Tight and secure. Or soft. His S/O almost automatically buries their face in the crook of his neck because - who wouldn’t. Is there anything else I have to say about hugs by Nanami Kento? Yes. Am I able to put it into words? No. It’s just a very overwhelming feeling - that’s all.

I = Intimacy (What is their favorite form of intimacy? Do they have problems with it?) For him I think it would be things where they take care of him. While he shows his love through cooking and providing (which he takes a lot of pride from), he loves being taken care of as well. Maybe in departments he doesn’t know so much about. Like skincare. If his S/O teases him about his wrinkles and stern look he would gladly accept any advice in skincare from them, let them do their magic with face massages and serums. He doesn’t even care if it has any effect on his skin - he just loves the attention he gets and thrives on the feeling how much his S/O cares about him (and his skin apparently).

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) This one I am really indecisive about. I can see him get more jealous that we would expect him too - which would be a nice surprise tbh. But also not jealous at all because he is confident. Kento knows what his S/O likes about him and he also knows what separates him from other men. What makes him special. I think the times he gets jealous are the days he doesn’t get to spent with his S/O because of work or a mission. Which rather results in being mad at Jujutsu Tech than jealous of someone else.

K = Kisses (Are they a good kisser? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Forehead. Kisses. It doesn’t matter what height there S/O is. It is one of the most protective gestures and he enjoys giving those as much as his S/O enjoys receiving them.

The back of the hand cheesy kisses. Because they are his everything, he wants to treat them like it. Nanami knows it’s cheesy but neither one of them thinks too much about it. When they sit across the table, fingers sloppily interlocked on the table top, he occasionally picks up their hand and places a soft kiss on the back of it. Almost absent-minded.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) He is not very fond of them. Not saying that he won’t love and do everything for his own kids but other people’s kids are usually a nuisance for him. If they are loud or misbehaving he is really not having it. Though he would never lash out or raise his voice against them/their parents. ‘Children’ as in ‘his students’ … he always makes sure to treat them as children in a way he wants them safe/won’t put them in unnecessary danger.

M = Messages (How often do they text his S/O?) Kento strikes me as a kind of guy who doesn’t text often. Mostly because in his line of work sharing attention could easily be his downfall or worse. He will let his s/o know if he’s running late or occasionally ask if there is anything they need from the store or things like that but aside from practical messages he doesn’t text much.

Though if he is on a long mission and away from his s/o for quite a time span he usually rather calls them than text.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Nights as in ‘Nights Out’? Date nights? Well, he is a foodie so dinner is always a popular option. He takes the time to carefully research about the restaurant and the menu. If the rotate dishes, he will make sure they’re going at the exactly right season to get the best culinary experience possible.

Nanami is old fashioned. So he will hold the door for them, pull back the chair … helps them into their coat.

He also likes going to the movies. The intimacy of the dark theatre gives him the confidence to reach out for their hand or have his arm around their shoulder. Since he usually limits PDA in public this is exciting for him.

O = Opinion (Would they ask for their S/O’s opinion a lot? How important is it in terms of decisions?) Probably more than I would expect him too. Maybe not about the smaller things but decisions that involve the both of them he would definitely ask.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Due to the time he spends exposed to Gojo this man has the patience of a saint. Literally. He rarely snaps at his S/O.

Q = Quizzes (How does a bar trivia night teamed up with them look like?) Stressed. Yes, this man in very educated and cultured but imagine him sitting in a loud-ass bar, having to answer questions about the transformers or Megan Thee Stallion. Absolutely absurd. How old he must feel …

R = Remember (How much do they remember about their S/O or their relationship in general?) Not everything but a lot. He will remember little things they mentioned early on in the relationship and bring it up again later. He also uses this ability for presents and such. As well as in fights. If they think they can outtalk him with something you accusedly said or didn’t say some time ago - I suggest they surrender, because he will remember much better.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Very Protective. I mean yes, he knows that they can stand up for themselves but why should they have to do that if he is around? One of the big perks dating him is that he is who he is and that his presence confuses most people. So he might as well use it. Not so much in a physical way but rather in addressing the people bothering his S/O directly in the typical manner of his.

I think his understanding of being protected equals being taken care of which plays into the skincare thing I mentioned earlier. It is not so much physical procreation from danger but preserving a future together where one cares about the other deeply and only wants their best.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) Medium effort. He prepares and researches but he rarely comes up with a new idea. He knows what he likes and his S/O probably does too. His work is so stressful and has close to no repetition so that he enjoys doing the same things on dates over and over. That does not mean it will get boring. Because Nanami sometimes thrives on going the extra mile. There is a restaurant across the country that he really wants to dine at? Buckle up - he is going on a vacation. Short trips or spa weekends are also things he appreciates.

Since he remembers dates and anniversaries well he is usually well prepared for those occasions. He puts a lot of thought into presents and barely ever gifts useless things. He does not like to have a lot of stuff laying around so what he gives to people usually serves a purpose.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as a S/O?) Literally everything I mentioned above. Namai Kento is a unique mix of all his traits. A very balanced person.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Well … he wears the same freaking suit everyday so … but yes I think cares about his looks and hygiene in general. As far as clothing goes he probably has one brand he is loyal too, which automatically sets his fashion style in stone as well. He has the same haircut for quite a while and sees no point in changing it.

Overall just the classic hetero dude who ones figured out what works for him and stuck with it. lol.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their S/O? Yes. His S/O is the other side of him. Is what balances his inner peace. Without them he worries too much, stresses too much. He needs them to tell him it’s going to be okay.

X = X-Ray (How transparent are they?) Nanami doesn’t actually tells them everything but will disclose if they ask. He just doesn’t think they are interested in small details about him.

Y = Yuck (Everyone has flaws. What is theirs?) He. Doesn’t. Do. The. Dishes.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Kento never lets go of his S/O. Which can be annoying. And suffocating. Especially in summer. He is not clingy and they don’t fall asleep like this but in the morning he always spoons them or weirdly holds their hand. Sometimes toes interlocked lmao. Which makes them even more lonely when they are apart, because they got used to it way too quickly.

@kpopsnowball @soleilsuhh @jeonghanmoon @himitsu-luna

@sagedevans @shampoocifer @your-consulting-fangirl @gwynsapphire​

MASTERLIST

[janamelie]

Dimension Jump XXI Report

I suppose I’m a DJ veteran now as this was my fifth consecutive one and the fourth at the Nottingham Crowne Plaza which is an expensive four-star hotel.  Sharing with a friend helps keep the cost reasonable and honestly, it’s worth it for the sheer convenience of being right there in the hotel and being able to nip back to your room as required.  (To be clear, you don’t have to stay in the hotel to attend the con.  There are plenty of other hotels nearby.)

Plus there is always the chance that you’ll see a guest at breakfast as I did Danny once.  He picked out a few pieces of fruit and nibbled at them before wandering over late to his photoshoot.  What else would you expect from a cat though?

Friday

Myself and @downonthepharm-red-dwarf (Amy) had arrived the previous day so had plenty of time to be near the front of the queue for registration.  Which meant we saw Hattie Hayridge arrive in a stunning designer coat and with smart luggage.  She really brought her outfit A-game and looked great the whole weekend.

Once we’d presented our respective proofs of full Covid vaccination or a recent negative test, we were given our DJ passes and booklets.  The latter has spaces for signatures from guests, an Order Of Events and various handy tips for the weekend.

The con kicks off at 5pm with an hour of gradual build-up in the Main Hall - they show videos from previous events, specially made titbits with various guests past and present such as Mark Dexter doing a mock guide to DJ and Rebecca Blackstone voicing Pree.  It all helps with the atmosphere, as do the numerous RD posters dotted around the hotel.

Then it was time for the Opening Ceremony featuring various Fan Club team members and an overcrowded stage full of cardboard boxes - the joke was that they’d had too much time on their hands during lockdowns and bought loads of stuff online.  It was obviously also a nod to Lister’s hoarding in “The Promised Land”.  

The sketch featured a specially made shot of the AA adverts’ Starbug model landing outside the Crowne Plaza and an 80s computerised version of the lovely convention logo.  You could tell a lot of loving effort had gone into the whole thing.

Once the guest line-up had been announced (I’ll get to that not-really-a-surprise-guest shortly), we went straight into the RD Pub Quiz, hosted by Hattie.  DOTP and I had been joined at our table by Lapsang and Barbs from our Discord (No Kind Of Atmosphere) plus various other attendees we’d befriended.

Someone in the crowd yelled “I love you, Hattie!” to which she quipped “I’ve pulled already!”  Another bloke shouted “Fuck off, she’s mine!” which led to a few shouts of “Fight!”  When neither seemed keen to do so, Hattie joked: “Only two?  That’s a bit pathetic!” and then we got started.

The quiz is hard, by design, but I’m good at quizzes and my team - No Kind Of Atmosphere after our Discord - came joint third which was gratifying.  (I was on the winning team a few DJs ago, to blow my own trumpet for a moment.  This is my report, after all.)

And then it was time for the first guest Q&A with - surprise, surprise - Johnny Vegas aka the Crit Cop in “Timewave”.  Not a great episode but he more than made up for that with an appearance I can only describe as chaotic.  Warning - DO NOT attempt to heckle him unless you want to be singled out and humiliated in front of the entire audience in a “Can’t look away” fashion which was nonetheless entertaining.  The man in question tweeted about it afterwards and seems to have taken it in good spirit.

Once we’d moved on from encouraging people to leave unpleasant things in room 429, it turned out Johnny’s a big fan of the show and owned it on VHS (so did I).  He thinks of the main characters, Holly would win at “Taskmaster” and had good reasons for that conclusion.  

He was dubious about the pink costume he wore in “Timewave” as he thought it might take away from the character but said he eventually decided he needed to get over what he was wearing and just go for it.  He also said one of his worst working moments was on “Benidorm” when he had to hold his breath underwater in a freezing swimming pool and his co-star kept forgetting her two lines so they had over 30 takes.  Ouch.

Johnny left commenting that he got less love at his 50th birthday party.  But we hadn’t seen the last of him by any means as people kept buying him drinks during the Auction, leading to him successfully bidding for one of the items on offer.

And then he was back for the Karaoke.  Now if you - as he informed us - had to undergo emergency dental surgery in the morning and had practically lost your voice, would you sing karaoke?  And not only that, would you sing a version of “Love On The Rocks” which lasted 11 minutes according to someone on Twitter (I wasn’t timing it, but I can believe it), followed by the full-length version of “American Pie”?

If you answered no, you’re clearly not Johnny Vegas.  He went to bed so late that the unfortunate Fan Club team member assigned to look after him got a grand total of 90 minutes’ sleep.

Saturday

DOTP and I had paid for the Photoshoot with Mr Vegas, Danny John-Jules and Ray Fearon.  We got in the queue at 9am which was when it was supposed to start.  An hour later we were still waiting.  Yep, Danny was late.

Once he made it to the hotel, I got my photo in front of a Science Room backdrop.  You might think Mr Vegas would be hungover and rushing through it, but on the contrary, he was still enjoying the hell out of proceedings which was refreshing to see.  Since he’d been added to the line-up too late to be in the souvenir booklet, he signed extra inserts for the Fan Club which they handed out to everyone at the later Autograph sessions so attendees got his autograph after all even though he’d finally left.  That’s what I call throwing yourself into an event.

Next up was a combined Q&A with Danny and Ray (originally separate but Danny’s lateness meant they were teamed up).  This wasn’t a problem at all though - on the contrary, it worked really well as the chumminess between them added to the vibe.  Also it was Ray’s first convention so he probably preferred to have Danny backing him up, especially since the poor man tripped on his way to the stage and almost fell.  I don’t think he was hurt but I cringed with secondhand embarrassment and empathy.  He wasn’t the only one to fall foul of the edge of the stage that weekend; I think it was the slightly raised dancefloor in front of it.

As is usual for Danny, we were treated to over half an hour of what you can only really describe as a stream of consciousness as he pontificated about various things.  He and Ray did also talk about working together on “Death In Paradise” and Ray described his worst working experience there - he had to play a scene in a club in 45 degree heat with a live snake wrapped around his neck!

Ray is attractive in a “Hollywood hunk” way and Danny was clearly conscious of this, joking that he’d “brought his own security with him” and muttering “I’m better-looking anyway!”  But all in a jokey way as they’re clearly friends.

Danny had come from filming and dropped a heavy hint that he’s appearing in a Dickens adaptation which I imagine will be shown at Christmas as they generally are.  He also complained that Craig Charles never answers his phone: “You send him a message and he answers it on Twitter a month later!”  (Interestingly, Chris Barrie later mentioned a recent phone conversation with Craig so make of that what you will.)

Ray was quieter but happy to talk about the vagaries of showbiz and typecasting - he said that due to his Shakespearean background he gets a lot of serious roles so people were genuinely surprised that he could also do comedy but “I was always funny!”  He also gently teased Danny about the age of some of his references before admitting he still finds Tommy Cooper funny.

Danny usually performs “Tongue-tied” with a good grace when inevitably asked to by an audience member but perhaps it’s finally starting to pall as this time he did it in the style of Oliver Reed’s Bill Sykes and included a lot of X-rated references to cunnilingus etc.  It was entertaining though.

Next up was a live Q&A (over Zoom) with Chris Barrie.  Danny decided to stick around as he wanted to show Chris something he’d ordered online.  It took a while to get the cameras in the right position for Chris to be able to see it and Danny needed a knife to open the parcel, leading Chris to quip “Is this a good time for me to step out for some lunch?”

However, it turned out to be worth it as it was a custom-made Ace Rimmer doll which impressed Chris with its quality and he complimented the maker.

Danny and Ray then departed for their lunch and to take part in the Coffee Lounge which this year had reduced its numbers for Covid-related reasons and held a ballot for entry in the interests of fairness.  Amy and I didn’t get in but happily stayed for the rest of Chris’s Q&A.

In the “working from home” spirit, Chris was in a hoodie in his living room as opposed to his more usual smart suit.  He was suitably relaxed and revealed he got through lockdown by concentrating on the things which make him happy, such as his hobbies, his garden and his family.  His favourite episodes are “Marooned”, “Dimension Jump” and - less predictably - “Twentica”.  He also referred to a recent “mannerly, as he would call it” phone conversation with Craig.  No details but it had clearly been a positive experience.

Amy decided to liven up the ending of his Q&A by asking a vitally important, “TPL”-related question.  Whom would Rimmer find more attractive, a female version of Lister or a female version of Cat?

Once the laughter had died down and Chris had bought some time by pointing out that “neither of them are women”, he gave the question appropriate consideration.  He pondered whether Rimmer would be more taken by the “simple charms” of Lister or the “feline grace” of Cat.  This next bit is courtesy of Amy as my memory isn’t infallible: He said it’d be a choice between a feline form or a rounder, a bit more slovenly woman - he wouldn’t want the perfectly feline woman because she might not like his imperfections, but he also wouldn’t want someone who ate curry three times a day.  “Basically, a balance would be ideal.”

That was the last question but Chris provided a little more entertainment as he had a “How do you turn this off then?” moment a la Gordon the computer in “Better Than Life” and made amusing faces as he figured it out.  If it was anyone but Chris I’d think it was a deliberate reference to that but I think he was genuinely befuddled.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Autographs with Hattie, Danny, Ray and Norman Lovett.  I got the latter three to sign the “TPL” poster I’d brought with me but gave Hattie the booklet instead as it seemed more tactful.  She complimented the dress I was wearing and I returned the compliment, telling her how much the fans appreciate the effort she makes with her DJ outfits.

Norman commented how there’s a version of the “TPL” poster he isn’t on, bemusedly.  Fortunately mine was the version including him. 

I spent the rest of the afternoon chilling in the bar with Amy, Lapsang and Barbs, chatting to other attendees.  Graphic Designer Matthew Clark was now in the Merchandise Room with various props from Series XII and “TPL” including the Starbug manual used onscreen.  I got his autograph on my poster but it’s an incomprehensible squiggle.  Oh well.  He was very friendly and easy to talk to.

After a break for dinner, the Main Hall reopened for the Costume Competition.  This seems to get better every DJ, with an amazing “Greyscale Rimmer” who was discomfiting to be around due to the corpse-like makeup, a Natalina Pushkin, a Nirvanah Crane who could almost have been Jane Horrocks herself and a Diving Suit Cat from “BTE”.  Other entries included Rimmer’s Mum, “Giraffes who were armed and dangerous” and a Confidence And Paranoia who were later pictured at the bar chatting to Paranoia himself, Lee Cornes.

We then had a special video message from Doug Naylor which I won’t go into as I’m sure everyone’s already heard the details.  Suffice to say, his tone was positive.

The second Auction was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who made it more entertaining by adding his own commentary to each item.  This was followed by a stand-up set from Norman.  It was amusing but he misjudged the mood a bit, I feel.  When you’re waiting for a disco to start and it’s already hours late due to Danny’s tardiness, you don’t particularly want to contemplate your own mortality.  We were here to get away from all that, as much as possible.

Anyway, the Disco was a lot of fun even if Dave Benson Phillips’ presence as host was sorely missed.  Hattie danced for the best part of an hour alongside everyone else.  The stand-in DJs did their job and I stayed until the end.  The final two songs were “Bohemian Rhapsody” and … “Tongue-tied”.

Sunday

Not being in the Sunday Photoshoot, Amy and I had a nice leisurely breakfast and got over last night’s festivities before the first Q&A, live over Zoom with Robert Llewellyn.

This was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who in his capacity as Dave era audience warm-up knows Robert well.  Clearly well enough to get away with teasing him relentlessly about not being at the con in person until poor Robert was a mess of Krytenesque guilt.  

His protestations that he’d been scheduled to be in Munich this weekend but no longer was (he was at home) only made things worse.  Ian: “Oh, so that’s two sets of people you’ve disappointed now!  Stop saying yes to things!”  It was hilarious and Robert took it in its intended spirit.  Also Ian was getting a measure of revenge for Robert - in character as Kryten - dry humping him at recordings.  One attendee asked “With the groinal attachment?!”

Robert admitted that he finds Kryten’s various groinal attachments hilarious and if he was writing the show they’d be in every episode.  He praised Doug’s restraint.

He also admitted that in “TPL” he had an earpiece to have his lines fed to him.  Since it’s controlled by an iPad, certain unscrupulous cast members took great delight in feeding him rude ones.

He still intends to update “The Man In The Rubber Mask” but atm “Fully Charged” is consuming a lot of his time as it’s become much more successful than he anticipated and he’s in charge of several people.

Surprisingly, he would hate appearing in RD without the Kryten makeup, both because it’s become much quicker to apply and because it provides him with a shield and he becomes Kryten and forgets stagefright.  He still can’t watch “DNA” for that reason.

Lapsang, who played Kryten in “Into The Gloop”, asked Robert if he’d seen it.  He hadn’t but said he was now very curious and would find a way to.

Next up was Lee Cornes aka Paranoia who said he originally auditioned for the lead roles and like the other unsuccessful actors got the consolation prize of a guest appearance.  Upon being asked if he’d gone out for a drink with Craig Ferguson’s Confidence, he said no because at the time they had a frosty relationship due to rumours that Craig was plagiarising other comics’ jokes.  Lee said it was all very silly and he’s since apologised.

Interestingly, Lee is a qualified science teacher and carried on with that career alongside his media one, leading to surreal situations where his pupils would ask: “Sir?  Were you on the telly last night?”  “Yes.”  “Are we on the telly now, sir?”

Someone asked a good question - what would Lister’s Paranoia be like now 33 years later?  Lee would be willing to reprise the role but isn’t sure it would work as the original had a childish quality whereas he feels now the character would be a lot darker and less funny.  Lee was both thoughtful and entertaining in his responses.

He was followed onstage by Hattie and Norman, who resolutely refused to rise to the bait of an audience member attempting to stir up a rivalry between them.  That only works when one isn’t the nicest person you could meet.

A tactless audience member asked both if they’d watched “TPL” instead of directing the question at Norman.  Luckily Hattie had seen it and particularly enjoyed the cat flap joke although she felt there was a little too much focus on the guest cast.

Norman didn’t really watch RD after he left but Hattie has seen Norman’s early episodes as he lent them to her back when she was originally cast as Hilly for research purposes.  Bear in mind this was 1988 when they weren’t even available on VHS so presumably he recorded them off the TV.  

Hattie confirmed with a sigh that she’s simply never been asked to return in any capacity: “That’s the short answer.”  What the hell, I’ll say it one more time - Bring Back Hattie!  One episode, that’s all I ask.  As it stands, it’s starting to look like a pointed and deliberate snub which mystifies me.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Rob Grant and Paul Jackson.  For obvious reasons they didn’t go into the current legal mess, opting instead to entertain the fans with the story of how they met and their early pre-RD work (Rob and Doug as freelance writers for Paul’s producer).

We saw some clips from their early shows including “Three Of A Kind” with Lenny Henry, Tracy Ullman and … later magician David Copperfield; apparently they all had the same agent and Paul took on David as a favour.  For a 40 year old show it held up pretty well and was in much better sound and picture quality than older shows often are. “Carrott’s Lib” was just as funny.

It’s a bit hard to summarise but this session was entertaining and gripping.  Rob still wants to write another RD novel and I believe there’s nothing actually stopping him as both he and Doug had an option to write a second solo novel.  So we’ll see.

The final Q&A was Matthew Clark who was very informative and interesting, showing us numerous production stills from Series XII and “TPL” and talking us through them.  There was a groan when time was called before he was finished.

By now time was running short and Amy and I went back to the room to pack and leave our luggage with reception before watching the start of “Dibbley Family Fortunes”. Since I knew I wouldn’t have time to watch it all, I instead nipped upstairs to Autographs with Lee and Ian, timing it perfectly as the queue had almost vanished.

Ian was still performing, drawing scornful attention to the fact that Lee had a longer queue: “Can you imagine all these people queueing to see Lee Cornes?!”  It sounds rude out of context but he was clearly joking.

I decided to ask Lee what flavour the yogurt Paranoia eats was.  He said it didn’t really taste of anything as it was the cheapest, nastiest canteen yogurt available and was also starting to curdle under the studio lights so eating it can’t have been much fun.

Since I now had about 15 minutes before I had to go, I caught a bit of Dibbley Family Fortunes, said goodbye to Amy, Lapsang and Barbs and then dashed off to catch the tram to the train station.  Another great DJ.

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

give me all your poison, i’m immune to it.

summary: laurie finally fucking leaves.

warnings: cheating, age gap, smut. actual smut. all that usual daddy stuff.

word count: about 12,200

pairing: andy barber  x reader

part 1 x part 2 x

It wasn’t like you could blame Laurie. She didn’t know that you were fucking toys on a webcam, making videos of your fingers buried in your cunt, and taking pictures dressed or undressed for her husband. She was innocent. She thought that you were just the babysitter and that her husband was still the loving, faithful man who would never do anything remotely distrustful.

Obviously, she was wrong, dead wrong, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Not given your current location. You just had to start thinking before you spoke. Admittedly, you normally didn’t talk to Laurie about your homework but sometimes, the guilt of being the worst person on the planet caused you to overcompensate. Your mouth moved, without your permission, at times.

You’d merely told her that you needed to interview someone in the criminal justice field for your English class. Stupidly—because you were stupid, that much was clear—you hadn’t anticipated that she would suggest Andy. Everyone was a lawyer in Salem, your grand plan had been to just ask your dad. Or to go out into the middle of the street and yell for one. It had never crossed your mind to ask Andy.

Before you could decline, she had already picked up her phone and dialed his number.  Now, being involved with Andy was a tight rope walk. Had you claimed that you already had someone, she would have asked who, he would have then wondered the same thing. If you had to give a name, you would have only been able to give your boyfriend’s father. Andy would have found a way to see you in person, just to smack your ass bright red.

You were stuck. He was stuck, Laurie didn’t exactly give him the option of saying no. You weren’t trying to claim that either of you were passive victims in any of this. You were both equally-at-fault villains. You teased and he took the bait, he teased and you took the bait. It was never a question of whether one of you were going to be inappropriate, it was merely a matter of how and when.

In short, you were trying to say that yes, you were ashamed, but you were also an opportunist. That night, when he texted you, you dove straight into a whole act of innocence. You promised this was not your goal and that it was fine if he wanted to cancel on you. You played the boyfriend’s father card and he ignored that suggestion in favor of telling you when you be in his office and gave you some guidance on what he wanted to see you wearing.

He adored you in pink, that much remained and probably always would. So, on the day of the interview, you had breakfast plans with your boyfriend, and after confirming to him you would be there, everything kind of fell into place in your mind. Since Andy didn’t explicitly express his displeasure at the thought of you spending time with your father’s boyfriend, you could pretend to be clueless about it.

Which was what you did. You had breakfast with your boyfriend and let his father drive you to the office. They were coworkers, why would you suspect that they didn’t get along? Honestly, Andy could pin nothing on you, and you knew that would be the most frustrating aspect for him.

On top of that, you were in the car with the man he certainly couldn’t stand in a tiny, pink plaid skirt. You’d draped your bag and jacket over your legs, but Andy didn’t need to know that. All Andy needed to do was get possessive.

It had happened perfectly. You showed up at the same time as him, but he couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t throw a fit that you were in another man’s car, he had to wait. Until that hour that he had promised you a little before 10.

Your chauffeur of the day was a huge gossip, always had been. You certainly weren’t bored all morning waiting for Andy to be available to you. By the time he had texted you, you were completely caught up on all the office drama, a few things you were going to be bringing up to Andy, if only to play jealous and maybe get a little something out of it.

Go wait for me in my office. Now.

Great, you’d already had some office fantasies, this certainly wasn’t going to help.

You were sat in the chair in front of his desk, shifting uncomfortably. You hadn’t done a lot of sitting earlier, given your specific circumstances—the plug in your asshole and the vibrator in your pussy.

When he walked in, he didn’t look at you. He began removing his jacket and loosening his tie. All you could do was watch his arms and hands moving as he made his way to his chair.

You were so happy to see him, you didn’t notice how cold he was being—but you had been told about Andy’s coldness, by your gossiping mate, several times he’d said Andy was barely human. Maybe a robot. You hadn’t thought anything of it because he was just so perfect with you. “How was this morning? Did you win?”

He eyed you as he sat down across from you, rolling his sleeves up toward his elbows. “I only have an hour.”

He had told you that and it wasn’t like you had forgotten, but that was his clear way of telling you he didn’t want to talk about anything but the assignment. Then why were you filled with sex toys?

You looked down at your notebook. “Yeah, um—”

“What is this assignment for?”

You looked up but turned right back down when you saw how he was staring at you. Andy was an intense man, it was probably why you were so attracted to him, but that didn’t mean you weren’t a little scared of him. “We’re reading this book about a lawyer who’s, like, a villain, essentially, I guess, and so we’re talking to people who are what we would think of as, like, heroes…because we’re supposed to understand that not all villains start as villains and sometimes they don’t want different things than good people.”

He hummed.

You felt like you sounded like an idiot—did any of that make sense? You gently cleared your throat and turned down to the list of questions again. “Did you always want to be a lawyer?”

“No.”

Was he going to give more than just one word? After ten seconds, you figured not. You knew then that you were never going to tell Laurie anything ever again. “What else did you want to be?”

He sighed in thought. “There was a firefighter, a doctor, a photographer for a few minutes.”

“And history teacher,” you recalled from your car conversations. Oh, simpler times. “Do you like being a lawyer?”

“Mostly.”

About several questions and just as many short replies later, you were thinking maybe it was time to cut the interview. You could claim that you had everything you needed and just try to forget this whole tense exchange—but see, he must have sensed that you were about to pull away.

With a soft sigh, you set your pen back in your bag. “I think—”

“Take off your panties.”

You instantly looked at him, confused.

“Take them off,” he repeated.

Well, this wasn’t unexpected. You leaned over to set all your things on the floor next to your feet. As you sat back, you took one look back at the door.

“I locked it.”

You didn’t stand, worried the toys would move if you did—you were so wet because even though he was being a complete jerk, his voice still did awful things to you. You leaned back in the chair, legs spreading as you pulled your panties down.

His eyes trailed down your legs and he held his hand out.

You squirmed a little before you leaned forward and handed him your underwear. Your heart stopped when he brought them up to his nose, inhaling deeply. You had been going crazy thinking about him eating you out lately—it was such an intense craving, sometimes you debated calling him and talking him into another car meetup.

He brought them down below his desk, you assumed to hide them away in his pocket. “We don’t have that much longer to wait.”

Two and a half weeks. “Yeah…but still too long.”

“It is,” he agreed. “But I won’t fuck you here, not the first time, at least.”

“Then where?” you quizzed. Certainly not his bed that he shared with his wife.

Instead of answering, he looked at his cellphone off to his side. “Open your legs and pull up your skirt.”

You did so, patiently waiting as he tapped the screen on his phone. You remembered getting these in the mail. Your parents were starting to get suspicious of all the things you were receiving but the packages never had his name on them and to find out anything, they would need to parent. So, overall, weren’t worried.

“Have those toys been there all morning?”

“Yes.”

“Since our FaceTime this morning when you let me see you put them in?”

“That’s what I said.”

“So, you didn’t take them out to fuck your boyfriend?”

You scoffed. “You jealous, daddy?”

“Once you’re on my cock, you’re never going anywhere else, so no, I’m not jealous. I just want to know.”

“Nope. Didn’t fuck him. Just didn’t want to drive myself over here.” You shrugged. “Not a big deal, I still hang out with him. He’s still my boyfriend.”

“Change that,” he said, but you could tell he didn’t mean it.

You snorted. “Leave your fucking wife.”

He arched an eyebrow at you. “I don’t fuck my wife.”

You shrugged. “I don’t fuck my boyfriend…often.”

“You don’t think he’s gonna notice that your pussy is getting harder and harder to fill and satisfy?”

You shrugged.

“How does he fuck you?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I wanna know. Start from the beginning. Does he ask you? Does he tell you?”

You averted your gaze to the desk between you and stopped to think about it. “I guess…he just touches me.”

“And how does he touch you?”

“Usually my waist or my hips. He kisses me, and sometimes he’ll hug me, walk me to the bed.”

“And does he undress you?”

“I think I mostly undress myself. I don’t care to let him do it.”

“Then?”

Your hand came up to your necklace. It was this small chain with a star charm—Andy had given it to you a while back. It had become a nervous habit of yours to toy with it. “Um…I don’t know. If I’m not wet enough, he watches me finger myself until I am.”

“Why doesn’t he do it?”

You shrugged. “I just never ask him to.”

“Why not? You have no problems telling me what you want.”

“Because I know you’ll make it feel good. He tried once…he just wasn’t…that good. He fucking scratched me.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, baby girl, that’s what happens when you fuck boys.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that once or twice.” A million times by now, you were sure.

“Does he ever go down on you?”

“He’s tried…I just…don’t like it.”

“Yeah? You were nearly crying last night, telling me you can’t wait for me to eat your pussy. You’ve been obsessed with it for nearly the past two weeks.”

“I don’t like him to do it,” you clarified. “I don’t trust him a lot.”

“You trust me?”

He sounded so surprised, you finally looked at him. His eyes were on your face, so stormy and blue. You shrugged and muttered, “yeah.” Why else would you be doing this?

“Then?” he pressed.

You looked away again, too embarrassed to say any of this and look him in the eye. “Um, then he fucks me.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah. Mostly, yeah.”

“Doesn’t make you beg for it?”

“No,” you snorted, “because I wouldn’t beg him.”

“Good; reserve that pathetic behavior.”

“All for you, daddy,” you promised, smirking.

“What else is for me, angel?”

You thought for a moment. “He doesn’t touch my ass.”

“You’ve never been fucked there?”

“Nope.”

He shifted, leaning further back in his chair. “Anything else?”

“I don’t suck his cock, I don’t ride him.”

“Is that so?”

“But I want to ride your cock, daddy. I want to right now.”

“I know, baby, I’ll let you one day.”

“What about today? Will you fuck my mouth?”

He sat up, trying to regain his composure as he cleared his throat. “Do you want me to?”

You nodded.

He stood and your eyes darted down to where his cock was, hard and so desperate for you. He made his way in front of you, setting his phone down once more.

You chanced a look at the screen. The two toys inside you were listed there on the menu screen of the app, ready to be turned on whenever he pleased. You looked up at him again.

“Does he make you come?”

“I fucking swear, Andy,” you sighed and rolled your eyes.

“What? You can ask me questions, but I can’t ask you questions?”

“He can, he’s capable…he doesn’t do so often.”

He nodded.

“Does your wife make you come?”

“I told you, we haven’t had sex in quite a while.”

“Since before this?”

He didn’t answer.

You nodded. “So, you’re a hypocrite.”

“And you’re being a brat, and you better watch yourself.” He started with his belt, but you kept your eyes on his. The zipper of his pants sounded and he reached in to pull out his cock. “Lean toward me and open your mouth.”

You did so, sure to keep your eyes on him. You didn’t flinch when you felt his tip against your tongue, and continued to hold his stare as he slid in.

His attention had moved to where his cock was, eyebrows pulled together, mouth dropped. His small, deep sounds were filling the room, making you so impossibly wet.

It was quickly too much for you to take and you were sure it wasn’t even half of him, but when you gagged after he touched the back of your throat, you opened your mouth again, wider. He looked impressed with your willingness, eagerness, and continued pulling out and pushing back in until your throat reacted around him over and over.

You saw that he reached off to the side where his phone was, but you still startled as you felt the toys vibrating inside you. Your eyes rolled back and you closed your lips around him, moaning.

That was when his hand found the back of your head. He just wanted to hold you where you were and let you get used to all the sensations.

The plug in your ass was at a much higher setting, Andy seemed to enjoy how sensitive you were there. The vibrator in your pussy had an extension that curved perfectly to touch your clit, it had been brushing against you just right all morning and you had been ready to explode if he wasn’t going to let you feel it.

He set the toys on lower settings so you could focus on him for a moment. When your eyes met his again, that was when he gently, slowly started to fuck your mouth. There was just something different about Andy’s cock. All those veins you could feel on your tongue, and he was so big and so hard, yet his skin was velvety smooth, you were consumed with thoughts of it inside you.

He tasted just the same as the others, but that was where the comparisons ended. Andy was not just a regular man. He was an important person, fucking your throat, completely in charge of you, your mouth, your body—and you would have it no other way. It made you feel important, that he had chosen you.

Your jaw was already sore, but you didn’t care. Your mouth felt stretched, your throat a little raw, but oh well. This man did not seem close and you weren’t going to do a single thing except sit there and take him. You would do this for the rest of the day if he wanted you to.

He played with the vibration settings then, searching for ways to make you moan around his cock. There was no pattern or method in the way he handled the toys, he was so caught up in his own pleasure that he couldn’t tease you even if he wanted.

You were nearly squirming out of the chair, whining, swallowing around him. When he knew you were coming, when your hips were moving, when your nails were sounding on the chair that you were gripping so tight, he pulled you down on his cock as far as you could go. This was how he silence the sounds frantically pouring out.

He wanted to savor this, he wanted to fuck your mouth until he was satisfied—and since you’d been teasing him for months and months, he had a lot of built-up frustration. He might have to keep you there all day, something he felt inclined to let you know. “Baby, you feel so damn good, I might need to stay in your mouth until my day is over.”

You were amused that he thought that you wouldn’t be into that. But of course, he had no idea how fucking beautiful you found him, and all the stupid shit you were willing to do for him. Not that you would be rushing to tell him. The way you looked at him, you could tell it gave him an inkling of an idea, because he turned from cocky to wrecked in a second.

“Are you wearing a bra?” That was the first time he pulled out completely, drool and his cum dripping down your chin. He began to pump his cock with a tight, fast fist.

“Yes.”

“Pull up your shirt,” he directed and you quickly did. “Pull down your bra.”

That was when you realized what he wanted. You hurriedly obliged, getting your bra as far out of the way as possible. Your breasts were exposed to him, nipples pebbling because it was so cold. You arched your chest up for him, silently begging for his cum.

He finished with a quiet groan, one hand holding him and the other gripping the desk, knuckles white, nails digging into the wood. His cum spilled out on your chest, he used his hold on himself to coat your nipples, and you shuddered at the feeling of his cock touching you there.

Breathless, he released his hold on himself and your eyes followed his cock. Even soft, he was so big. He leaned over and you sat back in the chair. He took the bra from your hands and set it back over your breasts.

He turned back to his phone and raised the vibration level again. Your body arched, your legs spread wide as he got on his knees before you. He grabbed your hips and pulled you to the edge of the chair.

“Like being covered in my cum?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whimpered. You did like it, how his cum was cooling against your skin, spread by the material of your bra, kept there but hidden, no one would ever know.

“Want me to come on you again?”

You nodded quickly.

“I need to see you finish. Then, I’m gonna eat your pussy until I’m hard again.”

“Daddy,” you whined. That would be no problem. The orgasms Andy gave you were always good but when he watched, they were a million times better. You got off on watching him watch you. You liked knowing that he liked seeing your body, hearing you cry out for him, that he was addicted to the ideas of touching you, smelling you, tasting you.

“Are you close, angel?”

You nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

He leaned over, kissing your mound, and you crumbled into a million pieces. You had to press your hand over your mouth, worried someone would hear you without his cock muffling you. He watched in awe, your face, your mouth, your shaking body. He turned down, suppressing a groan when he saw your pussy pulsing around the toy, full, satisfied, overstimulated.

He pulled out the toy in your pussy as soon as your body relaxed against the chair, but let you keep the plug. The next second, his mouth was pressed against you and you were whimpering and shuddering, hands grasping his hair as your hips rolled forward for more attention.

But he grabbed you and held you down, which took the toy vibrating in your ass almost too deep. He kissed up and down your soaking slit, licking his lips instead of you, a smug glint in his eyes. You ached with need, you just wanted to feel his tongue. Ever since you’d felt it in the car, you dreamed of it, fantasized, it was rarely off your mind.

“Daddy, please,” you whispered.

“Need my mouth?”

“Yes, daddy. Need your mouth and your tongue. Need you to eat my pussy so fucking bad.”

“When she’s gone, I’m gonna eat your pussy every night.”

You liked the sound of that, but you were confused. How was that going to happen?

He let the tip of his tongue slide down, teasing your entrance before he licked back up. He began kissing you again, smirking at the frustrated noise you tried to quiet by closing your mouth. He took his fingers and spread your pussy wide open. Eyes on yours, he flicked his tongue over your clit so fast that it took your breath away. He got you so close to that edge, your entire body trembling, your attempted breaths short and shaking, before he stopped.

“Daddy,” you gasped. Not this, not now. You couldn’t take Andy’s brand of teasing.

“We need to discuss something first, princess. I want you to stay at the house.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” It probably wouldn’t get you any points, in fact, it would probably irritate the hell out of him that you were speaking to him like that, but that was what came out. But that was all you could think.

“Probably.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. That’s why I’m trying to get you to agree, while you’re not as stubborn, while you’re so distracted that you can’t think of consequences.”

“You’re an ass.”

“True, but I want to fuck you. I want to fall asleep next to you every night, buried in your pussy. Then, when we wake up, I want to fuck you again.”

“What about Jacob?”

“Guest room,” he explained.

It all made sense now. That was where he was intending to fuck you for the first time. You hummed, feigning insult. “I feel so special.”

“You should, I made the room up just for you.”

“You did?” you asked before you could talk to yourself about how dangerous that question was.

“Yes.”

You tried to ignore the butterflies that gave you, how your stomach was twisting, your heart was pounding, and your body abruptly felt hot. “Well, how can I say no to all that effort?”

“I suspect you will try to backtrack later,” he admitted.

He was probably right. “But since we already know that’s going to happen and you’re going to talk me out of it, why not just say yes now and let you make me come?”

“Good idea.”

You smiled a little. “Then my answer is yes.”

He didn’t say another word before he dove right back in. This time was different, there was more intent. He knew when to flick his tongue at your clit and when to run it through your folds, but more importantly, he knew just how to suck to make you see stars when you finished.

You were dizzy, breathless, and barely conscious when he stood up. His cock was hard again and you were once more ready for whatever he wanted from you. You sat up but stayed leaned on the chair, untrusting of your ability to stay upright on your own.

He stepped closer, hands grasping your hips to lift them from the chair. His cock was lined up with your pussy—as if he were going to fuck you, but you knew better—and your legs instinctively spread more. “Make me come, sweetheart.”

You set your hand over the head of his cock and pressed down until he was touching you, his fingers dug painfully into your skin. You wanted your arousal to wet his skin before you wrapped your hand around him and began pumping the length of his cock.

“Fuck, baby. You’re such a good girl, my fucking baby doll.”

Your eyes flit up to his. “You wanna come on my pussy, daddy?”

He stared down at you, body alarmingly tense. “I’d prefer to come inside your pussy, but I’ll settle this time.”

You moved faster, sensing both of you growing increasingly desperate. The noises coming from his open mouth were soft, low grunts and groans, but sometimes, these animalistic sounds that made you want to beg him to fuck you right there.

He must have seen that on your face because again, his hold on you tightened. “Don’t ask me to do that, I might not be able to stop myself.”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“Well, you’re not going to be able to walk when I’m done fucking you. You want your boyfriend’s dad to carry you out?”

You were unbothered by his joke, but still voiced your displeasure for it. “You’re sick.”

His eyes fell shut and his hips started to thrust forward into your hand, the head of his cock pressing against you so slightly every now and then. “And you are going to be the fucking death of me.”

You felt no need for further discussion, sensing that he was just about there. He pulled your hips closer as he was coming, jaw set to quiet his moan, eyes still shut tight. One last jerk of his hips and his cum was streaking across your skin. You were buzzing, still sensitive from his lips and tongue and beard and when his cum touched certain parts of you, you thought you might come again.

He finally opened his eyes, admiring how he left you painted and soaking wet. He gently set you back down on the chair, hands rubbing over where he had been holding you so tight. “Keep your legs open.”

You did so because you too wanted to stare just a little longer. You liked the way his cum was slowly dripping down your skin, teasing just like him. You felt him at your calves and turned down, finding him sliding your underwear back on. You happily angled your hips up for him, welcoming his method of keeping you covered in his cum.

As the material was settled over your ass, staring right at you, he gave your pussy one last kiss.

You shivered and he stood up, redressing himself.

He leaned over to where his phone was set and stopped the vibrating plug. “Did you get everything you needed from me?”

You snorted.

His eyebrow arched. “I was referring to your assignment.”

“Sure.”

He sighed, sitting across from you again. “Come on, I tried.”

You shrugged. “I said sure.”

“But it’s in your tone.”

“You’re not super talkative, not a big deal.”

He looked exhausted. “What else could you possibly want to know?”

You shook your head. “Nothing that needs to be included in my assignment.”

He scoffed, turning down. “Close your legs and pull your skirt down. I have to get back to work.”

You did as he ordered, trying to regain feeling that you hadn’t known you lost in your legs. You packed your things away and turned up to him, shooting him a curious look when you saw him watching you.

“Soon,” he asserted.

You tried not to smile but failed so terribly that even he had to smile. “Yes. Soon.”

“Is he taking you home or back to your boyfriend’s house?”

“His place, I think, yeah. Then I’m gonna walk.”

He hummed, pleased by the thought of you having to stay covered in him for so long. “Kiss him before you go home.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Andy.”

“You better, baby, I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“You’re sick.”

“Yeah, probably will be as long as you’re in my life.”

You knew that was true. “Back at you.”

He smirked. “Get outta here, call me when you’re in a bath.”

“You want me to wait until you’re home?”

He glanced at his phone and nodded. “I’ll be home early, around 4. Stay exactly the way you are until then. Understood?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“One last kiss, angel.”

You stood and excitedly leaned over his desk to kiss him. It was brief, mostly you pulled away in surprise at how wet his beard was. Scrunching your nose, you wiped your palms along your jaw.

He watched you, clearly amused.

You kissed the tip of his nose and without another word, practically pranced out of his office.

“You’ll call,” Laurie said. It didn’t sound like a question, but she was clearly asking, or more so begging.

“I promise.”

“I know a lot of tricks,” she insisted. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t think you’re great or that I don’t trust you, but I’m his mother. I just know more about him than anyone else.”

“I know,” you assured. “And I will call if I need help, I swear.”

“I’ve never been away from them,” she confided, frowning.

Andy was in the house, grabbing the last of Laurie’s things. You had wanted to get there before she left, knowing Laurie would feel much better talking to you directly, instead of through her husband.

“Well,” you began, awkwardly wringing your hands, “absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

She forced a smile. “We shall see, I suppose… I just feel like something terrible is about to happen.”

Your stomach twisted, there had to be something wrong with you, right? Someone shouldn’t be able to stare at someone, who had only ever been great to them, and lie about fucking their husband.

Your gaze averted to the packed car. It was running, had been for a while. Laurie was clearly anxious, dreading the idea of leaving her husband, her home, and mostly, her child. “Don’t think like that. Everything will be fine.”

“I know that, deep down.”

“I’ll take pictures,” you offered, turning back to her. That was her biggest source of sadness, knowing that she would miss out on some of Jacob’s life. The least you could do was give some of that back to her.

Her smile turned sincere. “I feel so guilty about leaving him. He’s so young.”

“Too young, I’m sure. No emotional trauma will result.”

She scoffed. “Well, if he ends up a murderer—”

“You can tell me I was wrong,” you finished for her.

She hugged you tight and you felt guilt flare up again. It had been coming and going all morning, it had nearly made you sick when you were getting dressed this morning. You chose a skirt because Andy loved you in them so much, knee-high socks, and a thin sweater, but absolutely no underwear. You were going to hell, that much you were sure of.

Andy walked out then, and things just slowed down. It was his eyes, what he wasn’t saying but what you knew he felt, that was enough to calm you down. This was wrong, yes, but your feelings were sincere. At least it wasn’t just some fling, he wasn’t going to do this with someone else, you weren’t going to go after another married man. This was you and him, it just was.

He met your panicked stare, a knowing look in his eyes. He knew you were what you were thinking, feeling, and as soon as Laurie was gone, he was going to do everything in his power to stop it. “Last bag.”

Laurie pulled back, watching her husband load the last suitcase into the backseat. Once he turned to her, she threw herself at him.

Andy was slow to react, too slow in your opinion, but you figured Laurie had become used to that by now. You figured you weren’t exactly the reason Andy had started pulling away, you were just a step in that path.

And cue jealousy. You realized you’d never watched them together, not like this. Andy wasn’t an overly affectionate man so save for the occasional quick kiss when he got home, nothing. You hadn’t experienced this ugly emotion in the pit of your stomach all the times before that, but then, the last time had to have been months before he started driving you home.

“I know I’m being ridiculous,” she stated.

Considering, via text the night before, how many times he promised to make you come, she was not being ridiculous. You stepped back a few feet to give them some space, turning away completely when she kissed him.

You rolled your eyes as yourself, turning your attention to the porch you were standing on. What had you been expecting? That was his wife, of course, he was going to kiss her. You didn’t look at them again until Laurie called out a goodbye to you. You smiled, waving as she ducked into her car.

“Thank you so much.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you responded, probably more to make yourself feel better than her. This was not ‘nothing’, however, what you were doing was terrible, unforgivable.

“Really, I’m sure you’ll get tired of them in a few days.”

“No, not Jacob.”

Andy glanced at you curiously, a look you completely ignored.

Laurie laughed, looking at him once more. “I’ll call when I get there.”

“Okay. Drive safe.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Bye, Y/N! Again, I can’t thank you enough.”

“Trust me, you don’t need to thank me.”

Andy rolled his eyes at you, but otherwise, you both kept appearances until she was down the street. The tension between you two was so strong that it became palpable outside. You knew that when you looked at him, it was done, there was no going back.

You turned to him first and then he turned to you. Arching an eyebrow, you began to step back toward the house, “Well, I should probably get started on this completely serious job.”

He nodded and made his way up the porch. “I agree. Go to your room—”

“My temporary room,” you interjected.

“And get on your bed—”

“My temporary bed.”

“And take off your—”

Your hand instantly pressed over his mouth. “Andy, seriously, none of this when Jacob is here. Okay?”

He leaned back, scoffing. “Jacob isn’t here.”

You rolled your eyes, gesturing into the living room. “I know he’s not here—”

“No, I sent him Derek’s house for the night. He wouldn’t let Laurie pack.”

“Oh.” So…then, oh. That meant that you two were alone and you had all night with him, and it was crystal clear how he wanted to spend that time. You also wanted the same thing; it was just that you hadn’t much time to prepare, mentally, physically. Maybe if you hadn’t fallen asleep last night instead of making videos with one of the toys, you would be a lot more confident.

“Do you want to see your room?”

“Yeah, okay.” You were insanely curious. He led the way up the stairs with you following closely.

Halfway there, he stopped as if he remembered something and turned back to you.

“What are you d—”

He cut you off with a kiss. His arms wrapped arms around you, pulling you into his chest. He’d never kissed you like this, so freely, so desperately. There had been the time in the car, fueled by lust and thrill. This wasn’t that. He held you and locked you in completely, one arm looped around the small of your back, the other around your shoulders, and he just kissed you. It was unhurried because he could finally get lost in you since no one was around, and forceful because there was no reason to stop. Nothing could stop this.

His beard was pricking your skin, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was starting to feel like home, much to your dismay. His tongue soothed your lips anytime the short, rough hairs scratched you there, which was increasingly often as the kiss turned from sweet and experimental to frenzied and disgustingly needy.

You hadn’t realized it was you that started asking for more and taking it without permission—it was you that brought your hands up to his face, you that took advantage of his opened mouth—not until he pulled away. Your hand came up to your lips, the only barrier you could think to put between you two before you tried to kiss him again. How were you ever going to stop now that Laurie was gone?

He smiled at you, rubbed his hand up and down your back. “You really are going to end up killing me, aren’t you?”

His hand closed around yours before you responded and he started guiding you upstairs with him. You continued to press your fingers to your lips, hoping they would stop tingling like you were some pathetic 13-year-old.

“Does she know? About the room?”

“Yeah. I told her it was a good idea…I get home late sometimes, and you need to be here early anyway. She agreed…she would agree with anything that got you away from your parents.”

“But not my daddy?” you teased.

He glanced back at you briefly, trying not to smile. “Can you not call me daddy when we’re talking about your actual dad?”

“As if that doesn’t turn you on more,” you muttered.

“It doesn’t,” he claimed.

You rolled your eyes. “So, she saw the room?”

“No,” he scoffed. “That would have been a dead giveaway. I just told her that I left it the way it was, and I’d let you do whatever you wanted to it.”

“Why didn’t you let me do whatever I wanted to it?”

Jacob’s room was the first room right at the start of the hall on the left. There was a small closet on the opposite side, the guest bathroom next to it. Andy and Laurie’s room was toward the end, the guest bedroom across from it. It seemed like a weird place for a guest room, it was probably an office before the Barber’s moved in, but Andy had taken the spacious room full of windows downstairs as his workspace.

Your heart was pounding with each step closer. You could tell he was nervous about something too; he was squeezing your hand so tight.

He pulled you in front of him a few feet in front of the door, one arm snaking around your waist, the other coming up to your jaw to tilt your head back. “Because you’re my gorgeous little girl and I wanted to spoil the hell out of you.”

You hummed. “You like spending money on me, that’s kinda sick.”

He arched an eyebrow. “On the list of all the things I want to do to you, it’s not even in the top 20.”

You smirked. “What’s number one?”

Trying to stop his smile, he rolled his eyes and kissed your forehead. “You’ll find out soon enough. Focus.” He reached for the door and you turned forward again.

Immediately, you were shocked by what was in front of you. Everything was so pink. There was so much—the huge bed covered in fluffy blankets and pillows, the dresser that had a boxed vibrator on top of it, the bedside tables, the lamps, the huge mirror over the dresser and then the one on the wall across the bed.

“Andy…”

He pulled your hair back on one side, leaning over to get a better look at your face. “What is it, princess?”

You stepped away from him, still in awe. No, this had to be a fever dream—he could not have done all of this for you! “This is too much…I can’t…”

“This isn’t even all of it.”

You turned back to find him looking rather amused. “What have you done?”

He shrugged. “Look around a bit. It’s your room, you know.”

You quickly leaned over the nearest bedside table and yanked open the drawer, it contained several boxes of small plugs, all soft pastel shades, or gold and bejeweled. Who needed this many? No one, but it was clear that nothing, in Andy’s mind, was too much for you.

You chose to ignore the locked chest at the end of the bed as you marched to the opposite bedside dresser. A pair of handcuffs, silk ties, and ropes—because evidently, he liked variety.

Next, the dresser caught your attention. Most drawers contained panties and bralettes in so many colors, save for the top drawer. Now, the top drawer, that was where things got interesting. Several questionable things were there but the most notable was the gag.

You picked it up, turning back to him with an arched eyebrow.

“Well, you’re not exactly quiet.”

You scoffed, turning back to toss the gag back in its place. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you, baby.”

You turned back, fully intending to tell him how lame you found that line. Instead, you noticed the closet. You stared at it for a mere second before you shot him a pleading look. No, not that.

“Maybe you should hold off on that.”

Oh, god. You rushed forward and yanked the door open, mouth instantly dropping. Color-coordinated, lace, leather, sheer, tiny, short—all beautiful lingerie that you fell in love with. “Andy.”

“It’s not a big—”

“When did you start doing all of this?”

“The morning after you said yes.”

Again, your stomach flipped. You were more than just flattered, you were elated, relieved. This wasn’t all in your head, this wasn’t a relationship that you completely built up on your own. No one had ever cared about you this much or put as much effort into you. “I don’t know what to say.”

He nodded you closer and held his out to you, waiting until you made your way to him and took it in both of yours. “I only need to hear you say one thing.”

“Which is?”

His free hand came up to your face. “Do you want this, right now?”

You wanted to have sex with him, you knew that. But right now? That was a much more complex question to answer. This decision had the potential to change everything, and you’d just gotten closer to him. You didn’t want to lose that so quickly.

“I can wait,” he promised. “I’ve been waiting…I’ll wait until you know you’re ready.”

“I know I want this, I’m just…scared.”

“Scared? Of me?”

“No, not you… We can’t undo this, Andy.”

“I know.”

“And have you thought about what that means? Have you thought about if someone finds out—”

“No one is gonna find out.”

“Let’s say they do.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

“If it does,” you repeated firmly. “Then what? Then this is just done, I never see you or hear from you again?”

“No. I am obsessed with you—”

“I like you,” you admitted. “I don’t want to fuck you and then just…stop.”

“That will not happen.”

You rolled your eyes. “You say that, but—”

“I mean it. I don’t want to alarm you, baby doll, but did you think you had a choice? Did you think that I was ever going to stop trying to get you to say yes to this?”

You scoffed. “No, but what if I hadn’t?”

He let his hands slide down until they reached your hips, smirking at the way you shivered. He spun you around, arms circling your waist, mouth level with your ear. “I would have taken you.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he promised. “Dead serious. I would have brought you back here,” he started moving you toward the side of the bed, “I would have tied you up, gagged you—”

“Stop it,” you halfheartedly scolded. “That’s not funny.”

“No, that’s desperation, and I am very desperate for you.” He pressed himself against you. “Can you feel how desperate, baby girl?”

You could feel his cock against you—this was happening. You wanted it, he wanted it, and neither of you were strong enough to think about the consequences anymore.

He twirled you back to him, taking your arms in his hands. “Say yes.”

“Yes,” you replied instantly.

He indelicately shoved you onto the bed and you gasped a little, then he was over you in a second. His forearms pressed to the bed at either side of your head, his hips pressing down on your thighs, the heat from his body threatening to burn you. “What’s my name, princess?”

“Daddy.”

He hummed. “Don’t make me remind you again.”

You nodded.

He took that time to stare at your body, your weak, completely pliant body. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You should fuck me.”

He glanced up at you, curious to see how much further you were going to go.

“You should fuck your little girl, daddy.”

His eyes darkened—a guilty pleasure he had. A reminder that you were so little compared to him, not in physical size, but in every way. That was why he was your daddy. It got him off knowing how happily you admitted your submission to him.

At first, you weren’t into it as much as him—only when you were unfathomably horny. You came around after he talked about what it was that made you his little girl. It was because he adored you so god damn much. It was because he would do anything for you, anything to touch you, taste you, fuck you—all you had to do was ask, he’d give you the world. It was because you belonged to him, and he would certainly make you happy if you let him. Despite its meaning, its actual definition, it made you feel powerful, in control.

Yes, maybe you were little. Maybe Andy was big—huge, his presence, his reputation, even his name, but he wanted you. He felt something for you. You made him weak, you made him feel desire he’d never felt, not for his wife, not for anyone. You made his life exciting again, you reminded him what lust, infatuation, mind-numbing need, and aching, burning passion felt like.

“Oh, my little girl?” he teased, not bothering to hide how happy he was. “You gonna be my good little girl today?”

You nodded.

He stood up then, pulling his shirt off. He tried to hide his smirk as you rose onto your elbows, eyes trailing down his torso to where his hands were working his pants down. Once he was naked before you, he could see how badly you wanted his cock. No one else had ever been so desperate for him, he could see on your face just how badly you wanted him to ruin you.

He got on his knees before you, tsking when you went to sit up. “You wore what I wanted you to wear.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“I think that deserves a reward.” He draped one of your legs over his back at a time, then he shoved your skirt upward. He took your hands, linking his fingers between yours, and your heart started pounding.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your pussy and your back instantly arched. He did so again and again, sometimes pulling away completely to pay attention to your inner thighs. You had no idea how long he was teasing you for, you just knew that your pussy was soaking, you could smell your arousal, your skin burned everywhere that he touched you, your hips were shaking, squirming, bucking with need.

When he finally let his tongue slide along your folds, the breath was stolen right out of your lungs. Your body arched uncomfortably, a sob caught in your throat. You didn’t move due to the illogical fear that somehow this feeling would disappear.

His tongue moved through you loudly, only possible because he had gotten you so wet. Your cheeks burned at some of the sounds that filled the room, so filthy, so telling. He would moan and sigh and suck on your skin as he hummed, all to let you know he was enjoying every second of your pussy.

You didn’t want to hurt him, you were mindful of your heels and you didn’t press them into his back. You spread your thighs wider every time you were concerned you would close them on him. You couldn’t tear at the sheets or his hair because he was holding your hands. All that you were managing were small whimpers. You needed something, you needed to hold something, scream, do anything, but you couldn’t.

You started to shake the closer you got, your entire body just trembling with pure yearning. Andy’s eyes flickered up as he took your clit with his lips and sucked relentlessly. Your breaths were short and shaky, getting caught in your chest, barely making sound at all.

Still, most of the noise was from his mouth on your soaking core. He was so obscene about it, it was the only way he knew how to humiliate you, to remind you he was in charge. He needed you to know that he knew how badly you wanted him, there was no hiding. Not anymore, not in this room, not while the two of you were completely alone.

A scream that did not sound like your own tore from your throat when you were coming. Your hips bucked and all he did was make sure to keep sucking on your clit. He let you ride out your high, using his face until you fell limp against the bed.

Only, in typical Andy style, he didn’t stop. He continued to lick and suck at your skin greedily, as if you were his favorite fucking desert. Your body was spasming from the aftershocks every time he pressed his tongue up forcefully and then circled your clit, whimpers becoming much whinier, breathier. He didn’t care, he simply kept going, eyes trained on your face because he wanted to see you fall apart again.

You propped back up on your elbows again. You wanted to see his face, his eyes, but mostly, you wanted to watch his mouth working against your cunt. You could always anticipate what was going to happen, you knew when his beard would brush against you, you knew when he was going to lick or suck, you knew where because you could see it but that never prepared you for a second of how it felt.

You bit down on your lip as you felt his tongue run down, just barely pressing into your entrance. Fuck. “Daddy,” you gasped, surprised by how good it felt.

He groaned softly and you mewled for him. “You taste so good, princess.”

“Daddy, please make me come.”

He hummed. “Again?”

You nodded fast.

“You already want another one?” he teased. “You have the greediest pussy, baby.”

“You gonna be able to keep up with me, daddy?”

He scoffed. “I suppose we’ll see.”

Your body was trembling all over again as you felt his tongue dipping into you, curling to gather all that was dripping out of you from your first orgasm. Your hips erratically jerked up for more, silently pleading for him to make you finish. Of course, Andy kept you there for as long as he could.

He was watching the way your body moved as he kept sliding his tongue inside you. He found your taste sweet and soft, no surprise there, because you were his sweet and soft little girl that he was going to tear apart tonight until you were this greedy, pathetic little thing.

His lips slid up roughly, locating your clit in no time at all. When he pulled on your skin, sucking noisily, you started unraveling again. You writhed around on the bed, unable to get away from him with the back of your knees catching on his shoulders.

“Daddy,” you sobbed. “Fuck, daddy!”

He remained there, uncaring that you were wrecked, overstimulated. Through your whimpers and pleas, he continued focusing only on your clit, unrelenting, cruel, smug. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You just felt pressure, building and building in your core as the seconds ticked by. It was nothing short of agonizing, all the swipes of his tongue, his beard, his lips latched onto your clit. Every touch hurt, it was simply too much for you, but it was a burn that you loved every moment of.

Your body moved without permission from your brain. Your hips jumped off the bed, your back arched, your elbows dug into the mattress, you yanked your thighs further apart. You couldn’t take much more—your brain knew that, but your body just wanted and wanted.

Every touch from Andy sparked something in your brain, a part that needed him so deeply and then was utterly, thoroughly satisfied. It was addiction being fed, a match being lit, a shock just coursing through your body until you were coming once again.

After running his tongue up and down a few times, just to get the taste of you, he turned his head and began to kiss your thigh. He waited until you were limp on the mattress before switching legs. “Baby?”

You knew he called out to you, but your mind was all hazy and scattered. It took you several long moments before you could respond. “Yeah?”

“I’m starting to lose feeling in my hands.”

At that moment, you realized how tightly you were holding him. You yanked your hands away immediately. “Oh, I’m sorry!”

He chuckled, laying on his side on the bed next to you.

You remained on your back but turned your head to him. His jaw and beard were wet and you’d never seen him look as happy as he did right then.

He arched an eyebrow at you. “You good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah. Can I taste you, daddy?”

He touched your cheek and you nuzzled your face into his palm. “Not right now, baby girl. I’m gonna finish inside you because I have been waiting for months to be able to.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He gave you a look. “I’m taking it easy on you, don’t start getting mouthy.”

Finally, you turned onto your side. You just wanted to feel him, you pressed your palms to his chest and dragged them down his stomach. He was built like a fucking wall and that was one of the many reasons you felt safe with Andy. He was so strong, strong enough to hold you down and fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name.

He took your shoulder in his hand and pressed you down as he got back onto his feet. He returned to his position on his knees and you just barely stopped yourself from pleading with him not to eat you out again—you couldn’t take another one of those, but he would if you let him know that.

He started with your shoes, carefully, touching you like you were a vase, he slipped them off and let them noisily clatter to the floor. He grabbed the top of one of your socks and began kissing his way down until he pulled it off your foot. One last kiss was set to your ankle before he repeated his actions to your other leg.

You sat up for him and he stood from between your legs. He took the bottom of your sweater and you lifted your arms when he needed you to. For a moment, he just stared at you, then his eyes met yours as he took one of your breasts in his mouth.

You gasped and reached back, both hands pressed to the bed and fisting the sheets. You stared at one another as he sucked roughly enough to leave a mark, and then did so again to your other breast. He scattered wet kisses everywhere, your chest, down over your rib cage, your stomach, until he was at the hem of your skirt.

“You still good?”

“I just need you inside me, we’ve waited so long.”

He found the zipper on the side of your skirt and pulled it down slowly, almost like he was waiting for you to back out.

You used your elbows for balance and lifted your hips when he pulled the garment down.

He leaned over you, hands on the bed. “Just one more time,” he muttered. “I just need to hear it again.”

“I want you right now,” you promised. You weren’t nervous, not in the ways you thought you’d be. You saw a million and one promises in his eyes, you knew he wouldn’t let you down. Not here, not ever.

“Okay.” He kissed you briefly before settling in the bed. You watched his cock move as he laid flat on his back. He was hard, dripping with precum and your pussy was aching at the thought of being filled by him. “Come here.”

You rolled over onto your hands and knees to climb over him. You pressed his cock down to his stomach with your hand and set your soaking cunt along his shaft. You sighed, reveling in the feel of him.

His hands shot out to grab your hips as he sighed. “Fuck, baby.”

“Daddy, your cock feels so good.” You rolled your hips back and forth, wet noises, your whimpers, his heavy breaths, until he held you tight and made you stop. You set your hands to his stomach, eyes lingering on all the muscle there.

“Don’t tease, angel.”

“Or what?”

He gave you a warning look.

Smirking, you slid one hand and took his cock. With your gaze locked in his, you lined yourself up with him.

“Take it slow, baby.”

You were nervous now, worried about the pain a little, but mostly that you wouldn’t be able to take him all night like he so clearly intended. The head of his cock was against you and you had to press down hard to get him so slightly inside you. The immediate sting made you gasp.

“Fuck!” he hissed. His thumbs rubbed over your hip bones encouragingly. “You’re doing great, take your time.”

You took slow, measured breaths until it stopped hurting so much, then you took more of him. You ached, your skin burned, but you wouldn’t be satisfied until he was completely inside you.

“Fuck,” he repeated, gorgeous blue eyes staring up at you. He let one hand fall to press his fingertips to your clit.

You whimpered, “Daddy.”

“Come on, princess, just a little more. I can feel you dripping down my cock, you can take it.” He brushed his fingers back and forth over you, not intending to make you come, but to get you wetter.

You forced yourself down until you were sure you couldn’t take more, a scream catching in your throat at the immediate pain. You stopped to get used to the feel and he added more pressure, shorter, faster, more deliberate movements over your clit. Your head fell back as you felt that familiar coiling sensation. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted, voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re doing good,” he promised. “So good, because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

You hummed, nodding.

“Mhm, and you’re gonna keep going?”

“Yes, daddy.” You clamped your mouth shut, closed your eyes, and held your breath and you moved further down.

“Fuck, you have the tightest pussy.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “I am sure that you can say that to all the girls.”

His voice was rough, deeper than usual, an indication of how much strain was being put on him to stay controlled, to not just yank you down and fuck you senseless. “It’s okay, baby doll, you’re almost there. Come on, a little more.”

Instead, you pulled back and then slid right back down. Your eyes rolled back, filling with hot tears at the blissful but sharp sensation.

His fingers pressed down unbearably into your hip bone. “Remember back when I was trying to get you to come back?”

You didn’t say anything because you knew he would finish speaking regardless. You focused on his cock, relishing the feel, the veins, the heat of his body, but also concerned because was he going to fit? You were too scared to look at your progress, so you blindly kept slipping down.

“And remember how you tried to say your boyfriend was bigger?”

“I don’t think I recall,” you managed.

“Sure,” he scoffed, “Because then you would have to admit what an insolent little brat you are.”

You laughed shortly, a shaky, breathy sound deep from your chest. In pain or not, Andy was still hilarious to push around, not that he much let you. You turned your attention down, finding that he was staring at the place you two were connected. “Oh, I’m insolent?”

He nodded once. “I’ll have to teach you some manners before summer’s over.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

He lifted his hand from your cunt and grabbed your jaw. Instead of letting him communicate whatever half-hearted threat he thought up, you took his wrist and pulled it up. When you could, when they were in your reach, you swallowed two of his fingers.

He groaned. “God damn it, I’m about to throw you down and fuck you so hard, sweetheart, until you’re crying and begging me to stop.”

You moaned loudly around his fingers. Was that his idea of a punishment?

“Don’t stop now, babe, come on.”

Against your better judgment, you looked. You saw that you were halfway down, yet felt so impossibly, completely full, and noticed that you were, in fact, dripping down his length. You made another sound, sucking on his fingers to distract you from the next sting as you deliberately went down, down, down until you were seated on his thighs.

He pulled his hand from your mouth to grasp your other hip. “Shit.”

Whimpering, you slid your hands upward until you were lying flat on his chest, trying to stay as still as possible until you accommodated his size. Your soft body was resting over his sculpted figure. Your breasts against his firm chest, your stomach against those abs, inner thighs pressed to the outsides of his. “Oh, god, daddy. You’re so fucking big.”

One hand came up to the back of your head and he held you there. “You’re such a good girl, you know that?”

You nodded a little.

His other arm looped around your back, pinning you down. He rocked his hips forward just once, just barely, but it brushed the right spot and made you mewl for him. “You okay?”

You nodded, nearly frantic. “I’m okay. Do it again, fuck me, daddy.”

“I’m gonna sit up, okay?”

You were confused by that but moved when he did, wrapping your legs around him when he was in reach. It widened your hips and he managed to get in a little deeper. You stared at him, touching his face, feeling over his cheekbones, his lips. How could one person be so beautiful? Part of you wanted to hate him. You never had a chance at saying no, not when there was a man that looked like this that wanted you the way he did.

“Are you still okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured.

He took your hips in his hand and pulled you off until you were just about at the head of his cock. Then, he thrust in and pulled you down, gaining a surprised but satisfied moan from you.

“Daddy, please,” you begged, “keep doing that.” You were so wet and your mind was so hazy, you were almost certain you would go insane with need before he made you come. How you two had even held out this long was a miracle.

He did as you asked, several more times, all slow and careful movements that were certainly not meant to make you come. You could see that enjoyment in his eyes as you stared at him, still admiring his face. He was teasing you, but were you honestly going to do anything about it? Well, you could whine a bit.

“Daddy,” you muttered, “I need to come. Please, please just fuck me.”

He hummed as if he hasn’t already made up his mind. “I don’t know…”

“Please, I’ll be so good all summer, I swear.”

He snorted. “I highly doubt your ability to be good for extended periods of time.”

“I will,” you insisted, voice weak, much to his amusement. “Daddy, I’ve wanted this for months. I can’t wait anymore, please.”

He gave you this searing, agonizingly slow kiss, all tongue and lips and teeth, and didn’t pull away until you were breathless and your lips were swollen.

Once more, he used his hold on your hips to control the pace and pressure. Each time you were brought back down on his cock, he was hitting this mind-numbing spot that always made you gasp and moan as more tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

You were still aching, but that was secondary to how badly you needed this man to make you finish. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to his shoulders. You didn’t much care for this dynamic—you, in this blissful place where he nearly had you crying and coming, but him, controlled and quiet.

You squeezed your cunt around him as he faltered in dragging you down his cock. And there it was. Your advantage. He continued to push and pull with his hold on your hips and when you could, you used your pussy to grip him tighter.

Your first orgasm happened unexpectedly. You were still aching, still stretched a little too much, you thought it would be possible, but one more forceful thrust of his hips and it was triggered. “Daddy, fuck, I’m coming!” Your nails pinched down on his skin, trying to get him closer, but also trying to get relief in any way you could.

“Yeah?” he cooed, still fucking into you with evident determination. The sounds coming from him were short, you felt them start in his chest, they would come out quiet—he still hadn’t lost that remarkable restraint, but he would. “My little girl’s gonna come?”

You nodded quickly, “daddy, please. Please let me come.”

“You can come, baby. You can come on daddy’s cock.”

You cried out sharply, frustrated by how close you were. It still felt out of your reach, impossible to get, but then it happened. It was one last hit to the spot inside you that no one else had ever found, your vision went white for several seconds, your entire body briefly tightened everywhere, and then you just exploded. His hold on you loosened, allowing you to take some of the lead and you used the next several minutes to keep your body moving, hips stuttering and your cunt struggling to take him.

You were shaking again, your entire body, fucked out, exhausted, but still wanting.

“Look at the mess you made, princess.”

You turned down, mindlessly obedient after what he’d just made you feel. His stomach was wet, the part of his cock that you could see was covered in you. You weren’t surprised, you felt like a dam had broken inside you.

“Did daddy make you feel good, baby?”

You looked back up at him and nodded.

“Do you need a minute?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I need you to come inside me.”

He tossed you down on the mattress, situating his body over you. He found leverage on his knees and discovered that he could fuck you sufficiently from this position. Relentlessly, his large hands keeping your lower half pinned to the mattress, his hips began snapping up. They were desperate, almost panicked. He was close and he needed to use you hard and fast.

Those soaking wet noises from your pussy grew louder as his hips jerked up, only covered by your screams. You latched onto him, arms locked around his shoulders, keeping him as close as humanly possible.

“Can you give daddy another orgasm?” he asked. “Hmm? I want to feel you coming when I do. Can you do that for me, beautiful?”

You were nodding without giving the question much thought. You would do, or at least try to do, anything that he asked. You started to angle your hips as he thrust in, clit brushing against some part of his skin. You were close around the same time he was, you noticed his shorter hip movements, more powerful snaps, a tighter grasp where you knew bruises would form by the time you woke up the next day.

He set his face in the bend of your neck, open lips against your shoulders. You felt all his heavy breaths, the grunts, the cursing.

Again, you pointedly clenched around his cock and his hips slowed for a mere second. When he was moving again, he was coming. You felt him spill into your cunt and with only a few more brushes against you, you were coming. Neither of you stopped moving despite having reached what you wanted, because, in reality, you both wanted so much more.

You both wanted seclusion, the house to yourselves, the whole summer vacation to do a whole lot more of this. All of it was yours and you knew there was a world outside, but right there with Andy, it seemed like nothing else existed. It was just moans and groans and cries, grabbing one another as hard as possible.

Once he rode out his high, he rolled over to let you on top once again. You laid yourself out flat on top of his body and he hugged you to him, scattering kisses on the top of your head. Abruptly, he took your jaw and angled your face so you were staring at him. “Tell me right now that you have never been fucked that good.”

“I haven’t,” you assured, “Never.” You meant it, there was no one who ever made you scream as much as Andy had. Now that you were coming back down to earth, your throat was raw, lips swollen, breasts still wet from his mouth, body covered in the thinnest layer of sweat.

He smirked. “Good girl.”

Your body was spent, exhaustion you had never felt before, but you still craved him, you still wanted to take. Andy’s cock remained buried inside you because he wanted you to know when he was ready for more, he wanted you fully anticipating when he was going to be fucking you again.

You felt him soft, felt his cum dripping out of your cunt. Then you felt him grow harder as his hands roamed every inch of your body for what could have been hours. He started with your ass, admiring the curve, then your waist for the same reason.

His hand grabbed a handful of your hair and he yanked your head back so far that your chest started to lift just a little. There, he took one of your nipples between the fingers of his opposite hand and squeezed.

Your mouth dropped and you released a shuddering breath. “Daddy.”

He moved onto the next, pinching just as roughly until a soft plea spilled from your mouth. Once you begged him—for nothing in particular, just a chanting of ‘please, please, please—he let you go and pulled you back down for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss that made your toes curl and your body heat up.

He only pulled away because he was hard again. The dark, demanding look he gave you should have terrified you. He was going to reduce you to nothing, pull you apart, absolutely deconstruct everything you were, everything you knew.

“You ready for another round, sweetheart?” he didn’t give you the time to answer, instead, he rolled over yet again to lay you out beneath him. His cock still inside you, he created just enough space between the two of you that he could press his fingers down on your pussy, searching for your clit. When your mouth dropped, two fingers from his other hand were shoved inside until you were choking on them.

“After I’m done with you, you’re never going to be able to fuck another man,” he asserted. “Not your boyfriend, not anyone else. No one is going to give it to you as good as I am. No one else is gonna be this rough, this sick, not enough for how desperate and greedy you are. You, baby doll, are officially, completely mine.”

requests to be tagged: @onetwo3000​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @donutloverxo​ @kleohoneyao3​ @evansislife​ @ilovetheeagles​

[quietmyfearswith]

i’ll drive ; august walker x fem!reader 2/3

status — completed series

word count —  5,933 words

warnings — SMUT, unprotected penetrative sex, soft!august, confused!august

pairing — august walker x fem!reader

a/n — so i had driving lessons last september and thought abt how wow it would make a great story if a driving instructor fell for their student,, and the og idea had in mind was that for a dark fic i might still do one though idk but i never really knew which character to do it for. then i was like what if he was pretending to be a driving instructor and since i just watched mi fallout sometime last month thought id be perfect for august!! sorry i couldn’t publish this any faster, had some things going on offline so yeah lmk what you think of this chapter. there’s only one chapter left!  Y/F/N = your father’s name

masterlist | series masterlist

“You want me to do what?” August scoffed as he read the mission file he was handed. Sloane raised a hand to the other agent who was about to explain it again; she knew that the Hammer would more likely accept the mission if she convinced him.

“We want you to pose as a driving instructor; from there you’ll be assigned to Y/N. Her father is Nick Roberts; do you recall who he is?” Nodding, August placed the folder on the desk and looked at Sloane with a scowl, “Yeah, I do. He transports Perez’ drugs and firearms in and out of the country; possibly close ties to even more underground activity.” 

“Suspected of transporting,” The other agent — August didn't bother remembering his name since he rarely got to work with him anyway — clarified. “And how will me posing as a driving instructor get us to Nick Roberts?”

“Nick Roberts is just an alias; his real name is Y/F/N, and the one you’ll be assigned in teaching is his daughter. You get close to her, you’ll be able to get to Roberts.” It seemed like too big of a stretch, August quietly reflected; what if she cut ties with her father? What if he really wasn’t her father?

“Considering this is the only lead we have so far on Perez’ case, I’ll do it,” He eventually conceded; Sloane was pleased with that as she smiled, “Very well, take that case file with you to familiarize yourself with Y/N. Your lessons with her will be from Monday to Friday, the whole of next week. Understood?”

With a nod, he grabbed the case file and stood up to exit the room. Heading to his office, he figured that it was best to find out what he can about this Y/N. He read about how she had graduated college and has been steadily working in her chosen profession. Since the separation of her parents she lived with her dad, and by the looks of it has a close bond with him. It was amusing to him how someone of her age still doesn’t know how to drive; but nevertheless it was a blessing in disguise that she didn’t since it helped with their case.

Though her case file had her passport and driving permit photo, August made a reckless decision to look up if she had any social media accounts; and she did. It wasn’t usual for him to look up their target’s social media accounts — in the past he would settle for the provided picture on the mission reports and from there familiarize himself with what they looked like — but there was an itch he needed to scratch. There was something about Y/N that motivated him to look at her photos, thankfully her account was on public. “Can’t wait to see you soon, love.”

Henry James was his alias for this mission and here he was leaning against the parked car as he was waiting for Y/N. He held his breath once the door opened and revealed a girl in a romper. “Hi! Are you Henry?” She was too cheerful in her greeting he noted; perhaps that had something to do with how young and innocent she was. Nodding sternly, “See anyone else beside me, sweetheart?”

She giggled at his remark as she tucked her hair behind her ear — a nervous habit she’d develop. “Go ahead and settle yourself on the front seat.” She nodded and made her way over to the driver’s seat. As she sat down, she placed her bag on the console, “You have your learning permit?” She grabbed the piece of paper that was in the pocket of her romper and handed it over to him; he thanked her as grabbed it and filled out the information he had, “Do you know what to do once you get in the car and onto the driver’s seat?” 

“Adjust the seat, adjust the mirrors, check the lights, and make sure I have gas,” She listed out as she did all of those. Clicking the pen once he’s filled in the necessary information he turned to her with a raised brow, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Looking around her, she tried her best to recall the driving lessons she took and when nothing seemed missing to her she just shook her head no with a slight pout — August originally thought was a childish and foolish expression but she just made it look downright adorable.

Y/N held her breath as Henry leaned over to her so close that their noses nearly touched and his fingertips brushed against her skin as he grabbed the seatbelt, dragging it across her to click it in its place. She didn’t expect him to get that close to her, but she certainly wasn’t complaining when it gave her an up close view of how good he looked in that polo shirt; and the man too was surprised at his sudden move — he was debating with himself that he only did so to ensure her safety, just so she’d be alive and share about her father’s whereabouts, but there was this part of him that was convinced that he just wanted a reason to be close to her. “You’re forgetting the most important safety precaution, sweetheart; and that’s to wear your seatbelt.”

Smiling nervously at him she apologized to which he simply grunted at, “I trust you know how to start the engine?” Her confident persona surfaced, her right hand turned the key to start the car as her left hand rested on the wheel. “What do you need to do before pulling away?”

“Check the mirrors for any oncoming vehicles,” She glanced at the rear and side view mirrors, “Look over to your blind spot,” Twisting her head to look over her shoulder and verify that there was no one or nothing that was incoming, “Signal then drive away.” Turning on her signal light, she put the car from park to drive and began leaving her front yard.

August was impressed with her — for someone who was such a fumbling mess earlier was really focused on driving; he thought that was rare for a beginning driver, as they were far too excited at the thought of getting to go anywhere they wanted. “Good job. I have to say your focus is impeccable as well,” His compliment got her nervously saying thanks. “What’s the speed limit for residential areas?”

“30 kilometers per hour; Do I Just go straight?” They were nearing an intersection and she was told, “Yeah go straight; we’re not leaving the neighborhood just yet.” She nodded and just before she got to cross the intersection she hit the brakes smoothly as there was a stop sign. “One car there, still empty there,” Y/N took note as she moved her head left and right to check the traffic situation.

Once the road was clear she drove straight ahead and her instructor applauded her, “When you take the test, don’t be afraid to talk to yourself like that if it helps. And don’t forget to check if there was already a car from the opposite direction with a stop sign; know why?”

She nodded firmly as her eyes shifted from the road ahead, the rear view mirror, and the speedometer, “Because then they’d have right of way.” August noticed how the tone of her voice would differ; during the earlier part of their interaction, it was soft and low, but now as they drove around it was loud and clear. “When is your driver’s exam again?” He knew when she’d take it — he just thought that by asking that he’d somehow be able to milk information regarding her father.

“This Saturday,” She responded and it seemed that she was nervous about it given how her voice lowered again. “Turn right at the next intersection,” He ordered her. Seeing that she had no stop signs in her direction, she turned on the signal light and moved to the appropriate lane. Once she checked that there were no pedestrians crossing, moved to complete her turn.

“Notice how there weren’t any stop signs on two sides and yet there were on the two?” When she nodded he quizzed her again, “What does that mean?” Before answering him there were kids who were about to cross and she stepped on the brakes, coming to a complete stop and smiled as she signaled for the kids to cross. As she waved at the kids who smiled and yelled thank you she answered him, “Means that I have the right of way; even if someone arrives from the directions with stop signs they have to wait for me to pass before going on.”

“It’s great that you know the answers, some don’t,” He fed her some bullshit to which she bought as she softly laughed. “Well I don’t want to have to retake the exam,” Her lack of use of the word again caught his attention and was quick to ask about it, “This is really your first time taking the test?”

She nodded yes as she stopped at a four way stop, allowing a pickup truck that stopped before her. “How come?” Pressing her foot on the gas, she brought the car forward as she explained, “I don’t know really. My dad usually brings me to places or I take the public transport.” Bingo, August thought, here’s a chance to know more about his whereabouts. “And now? You’re dad can’t take you? Turn left on the next intersection.”

Nodding, she checked the pedestrian if there was someone crossing and stopped at the stop sign to check for any oncoming vehicles, “He’s so busy with work that he can’t. Especially now that he’s out of town.” Not enough information, August thought; but he thought that by asking more questions he’d come off as too nosy. “Do you know how to park uphill and downhill?” 

“I know which direction I have to turn the wheels to but I haven’t done that yet,” He nodded and instructed her on what to do. After teaching her how to do so properly, they took a break as August made some pointers over the things he observed as she drove. “It’s good that you keep your eyes moving around to check your surroundings; but don’t stay focused on one place for too long.”

Looking over at her, his heart beat fast with how her eyes looked wide and eager — and somehow he adored how innocent she looked, as she had no idea on what kind of world she got herself involved in ; it distracted him for a while but he managed to tear his gaze on her as he cleared his throat, “But sometimes you turn your signal light on too early, so be careful of that. And don’t stop too far from the stop line, that gives you demerit points.”

She nodded and took a mental note of everything he said, “What about with my parking?” Henry opened the door to check the distance of the car from the pavement, “You hill parking is good so far; not too close or too far. Think you can do parallel parking on that car on the next street?” Y/N eyes followed to where his finger pointed to a sedan that was parked, “Might need some help.”

Appreciating her honesty August reassured her, “Don’t worry I’ll guide you through it.” With his words she began to leave where she was parked and crossed the intersection. Once she was helped on the parallel parking process, her instructor beamed at her, “Good job, Y/N!”

“Thanks for your help, Henry,” The agent admittedly was caught off guard at the name she used— his dumb ass nearly corrected her and told him that wasn’t his name — he blamed it with how sweetly yet shyly she thanked him so that made him lose his concentration. “No worries,” He gruffly replied, which had Y/N found was odd with how his mood seemed to shift given his tone. 

“Why don’t we head back home but let’s go through the main road; know the speed limit over there?” She nodded her head as she answered, “60 kilometers per hour, but by Hammonds Avenue it reduces to 50.” Satisfied he rubbed his hands over his thighs, “Fantastic! Get on with it, love.”

Her breath hitched at the name he called her and she paused for a second before pulling away; August too had no idea where that came from but he just couldn’t help himself. The rest of the drive on the way home was filled with stiff and tortuous silence; the radio was not turned on since the agent deemed it would distract her from driving. “Do an uphill parking over here,” He pointed to her front porch. She nodded and poked her tongue out a bit as she concentrated on the task at hand. “Okay, now neutral, then all the way to the left.”

When she felt the tire hit the curb she smiled brightly and turned to Henry, “All done.” The proud expression on her face was so captivating that despite holding himself back he couldn’t prevent himself from mirroring her proud expression with a genuine smile, “You did well today, Y/N. Maybe next time you’ll be the one bringing your dad to work.”

August kept his fingers crossed that his jab would provide him with more information about it; and she partially did, “Not anytime soon though; he’s not due back for at least two weeks.” Despite being disappointed at the vague information he managed not to physically display it as he nodded, “Oh that’s too bad then,” He faked sympathy and unbuckled his seatbelt as she did the same, “Same time tomorrow for our lesson okay?” 

Nodding her head up and down, she grabbed her bag from the console and checked the road before exiting. “See you tomorrow, Henry,” She waved as they passed by each other as he walked over to the driver’s side. When their skins brushed, they both could feel a rush of electricity and it made Y/N nervously giggle and skipped away from him without even looking back at him due to how embarrassed she was. 

Whereas on the other hand August was confused; he never met someone who made him feel this way. The way she was looking or smiling at him had him weak in the knees; which was something he never experienced before. As she was swiftly entering her home, the Hammer found himself watching her as she did so; just need to make sure she gets home safely, he convinced himself. Though the rational part of himself argued back idiot, she’s already on her porch! What possible harm can come to her?

Once she got inside he finally got in the car and fished out his phone from the glove compartment to connect it to the radio and call Sloane as he began driving to his temporary apartment. After a few rings she picked up, “Walker? How was the first day?”

“Not too bad. Got some minimal information about Roberts,” He could hear faint footsteps on Sloane’s end of the call and inferred she had just gotten back from a meeting. “What have you found out then?”

“Apparently he’s out of town,” His boss’ disappointment with the information was heard through her long sigh, “Any idea when will he return? And to where he is?” He shook his head as he spoke, “Y/N said at least two weeks before he comes back from work out of town.” 

“Well that can’t be good,” No shit, August wanted to add but kept silent. “Is there any way you can remain in contact with Y/N even after your week of driving lessons are done?” Glaring at his phone the agent voiced his disbelief at what he was hearing, “Why should I pursue this lead? Can’t there be any other way to get to Roberts? What about his associates?”

Sloane let out an irritated sigh — one she rarely had to let out when she was talking to her best agent because he usually got the job done — before explaining, “His associates change; they come and go. We never really found a certain person or persons he works with. Y/N is the only constant person in his life and so if anything really she’s our only hope of bringing him in.” The silence from August’s end indicated that she got through his head.

“Now, is there any way you can remain in contact with Y/N even after your week of driving lessons?” He was now parked in the car park of his temporary base and he thought for a few seconds on how to answer her question. Call it impulsivity or whatever, but before he could even clearly think things through he found himself suggesting, “Perhaps I can ask her out on a date?”

In the years they’ve worked together, Sloane was always impressed and surprised with how August managed to accomplish each mission he assigned her successfully. But this one in particular, he surprised her with his suggestion; heck even August himself couldn’t believe the words that just left his mouth. “I just think that’s the cleanest way to play this one out,” He tried to defend his suggestion, “What other reason would a driving instructor have to remain in contact with their student right?”

The Hammer was cursing himself out with how feeble his justification was; Sloane on the other hand did find herself agreeing with him, “Do what you must.”

The rest of the week went by quickly and Y/N found herself looking forward to every driving lesson she had with her gorgeous instructor. And now that it was the last hour of the last day of their driving lessons, she couldn’t help but wish she got more time to spend with him. In the back of her mind she thought about failing the test in hopes that he’d help her out again. But then it would backfire quick if they sent a different instructor instead.

“Parallel park one last time with that Dodge over there,” His instructions brought her back from the plan she was hatching and going through. As she was executing his instructions, she failed to notice how instead of looking at what she was doing, Henry was observing every facial expression she was completing the task at hand. “There! How was that?” Her eyes staring back at him snapped him out of his entranced stare as he blinked a few times, “Oh well,” He opened the car door to check if the tires hit the curb and how far they were from the curb, “Good job, as usual. Though be careful when you turn the wheel to the right.”

She nodded slowly as she repeated his comment, “How do you feel about your exam tomorrow?” At the mention of her dreaded test she groaned a bit and he chuckled softly — he never saw her this stressed about the test in their previous lessons, so seeing her react this way was somewhat amusing to him. She looked at him with her lips slightly pouting and the skin in her forehead all wrinkled up, “I’m nervous about it; but at the same time I feel like I can do it?”

Henry’s left hand settled itself on her forearm as he affectionately rubbed her, as if he were trying to rid her of the stress and anxieties, “You’re gonna do great, love. Just calm yourself down before taking the test and don’t be afraid to talk to yourself as you drive if it helps you focus.” Y/N’s heartbeat sped up with how gentle he was; over the course of their lessons he came across as stern and rigid but this side of him was something she could get used to.

“How ‘bout you drive back home now, yeah?” She nodded and did so without trouble. August remembered how her father was gone and wondered who’d bring her to the test, “By the way, since you mentioned you dad was out of town, who’ll go with you then?”

Timidly smiling to herself she admitted, “I’ve asked some of my friends, but they all said how they had their own plans. I was gonna ask some of my coworkers and see how that goes.” Clicking his tongue with how unprepared she was, his mouth spit out, “Well how about I go with you then?” Before his brain could even analyze if that was the right thing to say.

Seeing as Y/N was driving she could only briefly glance at him, “You want to take me to the test?” August now backed himself against a wall and couldn’t find a way out, to hell with it, he thought to himself. “Way better than you driving illegally is it not?”

“That is true,” Y/N acknowledged, “But do you do that for all of your students?” Henry let out a laugh and her heart fluttered with how deep it was before he remarked, “Not for everyone, sweetheart, I’ll tell you that.” Feeling cocky with that she mused, “Then I must be special then?”

If you only knew, love, August thought to himself; while Y/N was scolding at herself for possibly flirting with her driving instructor. But technically he wouldn’t be on the day of her exam because their lessons ended, right? “Wanna know how special you really are?” He leaned his elbow on the console, bringing himself closer to her and he sensed how she held her breath as her body stiffened. Shaking her head was the only response she could offer as she was now focusing on parking the car in front of her house. 

After coming to a halt she turned over to him and looked at him with curious eyes; Henry then took it as his cue to speak, “You’re so special that should you pass your exam tomorrow, I want to take you out on a date.” Her eyes widened comically that August thought she was an inspiration for a cartoon character. And the agent wasn’t sure if what he was saying was spoken out of desperation for the mission to succeed or because he had taken interest in her.

It had taken her a few seconds before replying and the agent was surprised when she said, “Are you shitting me or is this actually real?” He rid the smirk he had on his face and replaced it with a serious expression, “This is real, sweetheart. Do you think I go around and grace my students with nicknames?” He took her avoiding eyes as a no and his hand grabbed her chin to get her to face him directly, “So do we have a deal, sweetheart? I take you out right after your test for a date, if you pass?”

August held his breath as she unhooked his hand from her chin and leaned over him, planting a kiss on his cheek. His blue eyes were now wide as she had a toothy grin once she pulled away and with a smirk of her own said, “We have a deal, Henry.”

August found himself tapping his leg as he stared at the wall clock, hoping that his domineering stare would make time go faster. Thirty minutes had passed since Y/N started her driving exam and the agent found himself reevaluating in the meantime. Was asking her out on a date the only way to get close to Roberts?

Of course it was, he thought, She said her father will return in two weeks. You’d only have to go out with her once a week and somehow bring him into their conversation and hopefully milk out more intel about him.

Seeing a man dressed in a flannel-patterned polo reeled him back into the present; trailing behind the man was Y/N who had a blank expression on her face. Furrowing his eyebrows he mouthed, “What happened?” Anxiety coursed through his body but it quickly left his body as she winked at him and turned to follow the man. “Do you want to retain your picture from your permit or want to take another one?” He overheard the man ask Y/N, prompting August to relax and smile as he connected the dots — she passed her exam! 

But as he was mentally celebrating her success he found himself thinking about how he now had to take her out on the date he promised. It’s just for work, he deliberated, only going out with her to know more about her father. Nothing more, nothing less. However there was this thought nagging him on the back of his head that it wasn’t just for that reason he was taking her out.

Henry groaned as her lips sucked on the sweet spot on his neck as her nails were planted on his shoulders. His large hands alternated between squeezing and rubbing her ass as she grinded herself on his lap.

They found themselves in this situation after Y/N giddily squealed at August how she passed; the agent kissed her forehead as he told her how proud he was of her. As they went to their date he let her drive and as he settled on the passenger seat, his hand rested on her thigh, testing the waters to see if she was comfortable with it — and by the way her thighs pressed against each other, caging in his hand between them, he got the message that she welcomed it happily.

Even throughout the dinner, they both couldn’t get enough of each other. The skin of their arms remained so close to each other that it was as if they were glued to each other. Y/N was beginning to think that the only reason Henry ordered pasta was so he could eat with a single hand so his opposite hand can rest on her thigh. But she wasn’t complaining as she rested her thigh above his.

As they drove back to her place one thing led to another and it ended with Y/N climbing over the console and situating herself on Henry’s lap as their mouths captured each other’s. Y/N unbuttoned his shirt as her lips littered his chest with kisses, she’d linger sometimes in a certain spot long enough to leave marks. 

Rolling her hips in his lap, she felt his hard on pressing against her clothed crotch and moaned against his skin. When her dainty fingers were done unclasping the buttons that confined his toned and broad upper body, her hand travelled lower to palm his bulge and before she could open the zipper Henry caught her roaming hand with his, “I think doing this in your house is far better than some cramped up vehicle; don’t you think?”

A blissed out nod was all the response Y/N could give; with that affirmation August opened the door and carried the girl out and shut the car door with his foot. With her legs wrapped around his waist, she planted kisses all over her instructor’s face. She whined as she was put down but understood that it was her cue to unlock the door; though the man behind her was not making the task easy as he was nipping at the skin of her neck and his hands were rubbing her arms.

“Fucking finally,” August rasped out as Y/N managed to unlock the front door and they both hastily entered and the agent shut and locked the door behin him; he spun her to face him so he could rip off her shirt and he smirked as the girl whimpered, clearly turned on with what he did. “Such a naughty girl you are, aren’t you? Going out without even covering these nice tits.” Wrapping his mouth around a breast, she ran her fingers through his hair to encourage him with what he was doing. Without detaching his mouth from her tit and instead switching between the two, he took the initiative to lead them into her couch. 

Pushing her to lie on her back, August rid himself of his clothes; he was moving too quickly that Y/N didn’t have the time to take a good look at his chiseled body. Hovering above her, he smirked at her once he noticed her thighs were clenching, “You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you?”

Pathetically nodding she grabbed at his shoulders, “Please touch me, Henry.” Snarking at her he tore her leggings and her panties had the same fate. Now that she was just as exposed as he was, August leaned down to lick downwards from her clit and to her pussy. “You taste heavenly, love.” He lapped at her more, needing to quench his thirst for her and curiosity of what she would taste like. “As much as I adore your taste I’m afraid this will have to wait,” Pushing away her legs that wrapped around his neck, he kissed his way up until he was face to face with her.

“Why not?” She whined as she clawed at his back, moaning as she felt the plain of his back muscles. He distracted her by kissing her deeply as his hand stroked his cock a few times before sliding it in her in one stroke. “That’s why,” He huskily answered against her lips; he moved so his knees touched her thighs, allowing him to rut into her properly.

August removed his lips from hers as he instead planted kisses on her neck as his hands toyed with her nipples and breasts; Y/N, on the other hand, was whining about how good he felt. The skin at the back of her thighs was rippling as he thrusted himself in and out of her rapidly and harshly; the top of his thighs hitting against the back of hers, “You feel so good, Henry. So thick and hard inside me.” The man smirked at her wails, loving how wrecked she sounded — in the back of his nasty brain he noted that this was his favorite version of her.

Her hands held onto his biceps, nails leaving harsh marks on his pale and sweaty skin; it turned August even more how her delicate hands couldn’t even wrap half the size of his arm. Her velvet and silk-like walls were squeezing into his cock so tight that it was triggering his orgasm already — the agent would usually last longer, but given how turned on he was coupled with the fact the past week edged him, he was already close to unloading his bottled up frustrations.

“You already got me almost cumming,” He hoarsely whispered in her ear, feeling her wrap her legs around him to pull her closer against him. That didn’t stop him from slamming into her pussy to the point his trimmed pubic hair rubbed against her clit, adding more friction and pleasure for the both of them. “Seems like you are too, love,” Both her nipples were then squeezed to tease her even more and August was just even more amused with how responsive her precious body was underneath him.

“Please Henry, make me cum. I wanna feel your cum all over me too,” She managed to gasp out in between breaths; the man above her growled when he heard how good she sounded as she begged and had no choice but to comply. He leaned down to suckle on her nipple as the other breast was being toyed by his hand. Her clit too received attention as it was being rubbed and pinched with his other hand. As his hips slammed against her thighs harshly and his cock railed her in swift and sharp thrusts, Y/N could only moan and roll her eyes at the simulations she was receiving.

The only warning she could provide him of her impending orgasm was her patting against his biceps as her walls unexpectedly clung to his dick tighter than ever and came around him. August didn’t relent and continued his animalistic pace, milking her orgasm and removing his mouth from her tit to stare at her blissed out and drowsy state provoked his orgasm as well.

“Fucking hell, love,” He groaned out as he slid in all the way inside her and didn’t thrust furthermore as he spilled his load inside her. With their foreheads touching against each other, they breathed against each other to calm themselves down. Y/N’s hands removed themselves from Henry’s biceps; instead she was now stroking his back, as if coaxing the large man above her to calm down. While August rested his hands on her sides, as if memorizing every inch of her skin.

Y/N squealed as she was being lifted up and carried into her bedroom. Contrary to how she was laid down on the couch roughly, her former driving instructor laid her down gently. Kissing her forehead he went to her ensuite bathroom and returned with a towel. Y/N looked at him with loving eyes as he wiped off their combined juices that spilled out of her delicious cunt. Throwing the towel on her hamper, he then laid beside her and August chuckled lightly with how quick the girl was to latch herself onto him for a cuddle — and he did open his arms to welcome her and wrapped them around her smaller figure.

“I hope you don’t do this with all your students?” Her comment had him humorously rolling his eyes and Y/N giggled at his antics. “No, I don’t, love. I promise,” He even held his pinky up for a pinky promise and she was more than eager to latch her pinky with his; bringing their tangled pinkies to his mouth, Henry placed a gentle kiss on them before untangling them so they could hold hands instead. “Well I guess I’m really special?”

Nodding, he lowered his head down a bit so he could kiss her deeply and passionately. Breaking their kiss August replied, “So special that I want to take you out again next week,” Without even disconnecting their lips.

Y/N sleepily mumbled, “I’d like that a lot, Henry.” Her eyes were starting to feel heavy and August kissed her forehead again, “Sleep, love. I’ll be here in the morning.” She nodded against him and did so. For the next few minutes, the CIA agent reflected his actions and decisions. He told Sloane that he’d ask Y/N out on a date only to remain in contact with her. That was it — a date.

But how the hell did he end up enjoying the date — let alone her company and herself — and then taking her to bed? This was a mess. He shouldn’t have slept with her for it would just complicate things. When August saw how she was steadily breathing, he moved out of the bed and rested her head on a pillow. He went out to her living room to look for his pants that he earlier discarded; grabbing for his phone he sent out a text to Sloane :

Secured a meetup with Y/N next week. Will try to fish out more information about Roberts.

He turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket. As he was staring at his scattered clothes, he was debating whether he should stay the night with Y/N or just leave right now. Even though he knew which option seemed like the most logical, he surprised himself. He went back to bed and cuddled Y/N close as he too began to drift off to dormancy — he stayed.

[aaron-despair]

Light remains (Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader)

A/N: I don’t own any of the characters on this fic, they belong to Marvel.

Warnings: mentions of blood, angst.

Request:  hey! could i request wander x fem!reader where they’re on a mission together n get trapped under rubble where r has super strength and is holding the rubble up. both are injured but r is trying to hide but is faaading! i love angst haha thanks!!

“Good morning.” I heard, making me lift my gaze from the folder that Steve gave me half an hour ago.

“Hi Nat, good morning. Back from training?”

“Yeah. Just took a shower, actually.” The redhead answered, sitting across from me at the kitchen counter. “What are you up to, little witch?” She asked curiously, nodding to the papers still in my hands. 

“Oh, Steve assigned me a mission. It’s a simple one, in and out.” I explained, handing her the file so she could have a look at it.

“Yeah, doesn’t seem too complicated...” Nat mumbled, carefully skimming through the documents. “Are you going alone?” She quizzed next, looking at me.

“No, (Y/N) is going with me.” I said, and saw her nod slightly, before smiling and giving me back the folder.

“That’s good, you two are an amazing team. Be careful, okay?”

“We will. Thanks, Nat.” I stood and gave her a short hug, before making my way into the room I shared with my girlfriend. 

(Y/N) and I met shortly after Sokovia. She was undercover on a mission when everything happened, so we didn’t see each other for the first time until she arrived back from Italy around two or three months later.  We quickly became good friends, constantly hanging out when we had one of those scarce days off.  Natasha always said we were inseparable.

As time passed, I found myself falling for her. (Y/N) had a heart of gold, but didn’t hold back defending her friends. And being a mutant herself, having super strength, she understood how I felt when people called me a monster. She was always by my side when I needed her, and that’s something I’m really grateful for. 

I reached our room, still thinking about the day we started dating, when I felt a pair of strong yet gentle arms carefully wrapping around my waist and lifting me up.

“Missed me?” I laughed, circling her waist with my legs as my own arms found their way around her neck. 

“Of course I missed you, love.” (Y/N) mumbled against my neck, where she placed a few kisses. She looked up at me, a soft smile playing on her lips, before I closed the distance and kissed her. “Ready for today?”

“Yeah. I’m still nervous, though. I feel like something is going to go wrong...”

“It will be fine, darling. We’ll be together, and we’ll protect each other. Don’t think too much about it, okay?” I nodded, making (Y/N) smile again before carrying me to our bed. “So, we still have some hours before we need to leave. Wanna watch a movie to help you relax a bit?” She suggested.

“Of course.” I answered, snuggling into my girlfriend’s warm embrace.

********

I fell to my knees, exhausted, after rounding yet another corner of the nearly destroyed base. 

“Hey, come on, lean on me love...” I heard (Y/N) mumble as she leaned down to help me up. “We’re almost there, okay? I know you’re tired but we need to keep moving.”

We walked for around twenty minutes before I caught her wincing. Placing a hand on (Y/N)’s chest, I turned to look better at her. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing. Let’s go, we’re a-” Suddenly, the ground started shaking, probably because of another explosion somewhere in the building. I noticed some cracks forming on the walls beside us, that were quickly expanding. Some debris started to fall off, and I screamed, waiting for the pain.

When I didn’t feel it, I opened my eyes to find my exhausted girlfriend holding the rubble up. I was sure this was taking a toll on her, so I offered to help her with my powers.

“No, i-it’s okay... Just keep going, I’ll b-be right behind y-you.”

“I’m not gonna leave you here by yourself. I-” I stopped when I noticed the red substance leaking from her suit. “(Y/N)... you’re bleeding!” As I looked at her wound closer, I realized that it wasn’t recent… “How long have you been covering this?!”

“It’s nothi-” A third explosion rang off, drowning my girlfriend’s reply and putting more strain on her since more debris started to fall. “Go!”

“I’m not gonna leave you here!” I screamed, tears forming in my eyes. “What happened to protect each other? What about the promises you made to me?! I’m not going to leave you behind, I can’t-”

“Shh, I know.” Even though she barely could talk properly with the strain her body was in, (Y/N) smiled softly. “Transit umbra, lux permanet… Remember what it means, darling?”

I let out a sob, nodding slowly. “Shadow passes, light remains…”

“You are my light, Wanda. You brought out the best part of me. I p-promised, t-that I would take care of y-you, r-right?” (Y/N) struggled to say. We were running out of time... She wouldn’t be able to keep up for too long. “You need to leave.”

“I love you.” I choked out, before turning and running to the exit.

“I love you too, darling.” Was the last thing I heard before the rubble fell one last time...

*****************************

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!):

@imnotasuperhero​ @rooskaya-yelena​ @marvels-writings​ @natasha-danvers​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​

[hb-writes]

Thank you for your help.

Inspired by my 100+ lovely followers, @love-me-a-good-prompt’s “THANK YOU IDEAS” prompt list, and a request from a lovely anon.

Summary: A Suits story from the Lines to Live By Universe. 12-year-old Charlie Specter needs some help from her big brother with a homework assignment. 

Featuring: Harvey Specter, Specter!Sister (Charlie)

-----

Harvey glanced at his sister as he came through to the kitchen, running the towel over his wet hair. She’d been asleep in her bed, or at the very least she’d been pretending at that, curled up under the covers and facing away from the door when he checked on her no more than ten minutes earlier. 

It was nearly seven, at least two hours before he usually saw the kid emerge from her room on the weekends. She was usually sleepy-eyed and still in her pajamas, determined to spend the day doing as close to nothing as he’d allow, but in the few minutes it took for him to get showered after his run, she’d made her way into the kitchen and put the coffee on, fully dressed for the day. 

“Good morning.” Harvey let the words come out slow and suspicious as he turned from her to pour his coffee. “You’re up early for a Sunday. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Harvey had come to expect his sister’s smirks at his sarcasm or something equally sarcastic in turn, but when he glanced at her, Charlie was looking down at her lap and it took her a moment to register that her brother expected an answer. 

“Can, um…” she started. “Do you have time to help me with something?” 

Harvey sipped from the mug, a slight arch of his eyebrow. Sundays were freedom for the Specters, the only day that could be entirely law or homework free, a day devoid of expectations or obligations so long as they both worked to keep it that way. Harvey hadn’t worked a Sunday in years, had gotten good with pushing it from his mind on the day in question, and Charlie had gotten into the habit of completing any schoolwork by Saturday afternoon as well.  

“It’s nothing bad,” she offered. “Just a little project.”

“And you left it for today?” 

Harvey thought he’d largely sidestepped that part of raising his sister, thought that they’d bypassed the years of science fair projects and parent-supervised arts and crafts. She was independent and Harvey trusted his sister to do what she was supposed to, signing off on quizzes and report cards and her weekly school agenda with barely a glance at the details. 

Charlie nodded, lifting the thirty-seven-page document from her lap, the binder clip clanging as it hit on the countertop.

“What the hell is that?” 

Harvey watched Charlie chew on her lip, more intent on that than answering. At her silence, he set down the mug, pulling the papers forward as he flipped through them.

“Charlie, what is this?”

“The autobiography assignment,” she mumbled.

“What autobiography assignment?” he asked, flipping back to the page of instructions. “How long have you had this?”

It was due the next day, and though she hadn’t expressed exactly what she needed his help with, he knew she wouldn’t be coming to him like this if it wasn’t more than she could feasibly handle. 

Charlie shrugged.

“The truth,” he said. 

“Since last month.” 

“And you just decided to skip the first instruction telling you to have an adult at home read it over before beginning?” Harvey glanced at her, caught the effort she put into gulping. “You have started this, right? You’re not coming to me the day before this is due with nothing?”

“I started… I just...” Charlie took a deep breath. “I highlighted what I need help with. Page fifteen, seventeen, eighteen, twenty-one, and twenty-three.”

She had already done most of the assignment, done everything she could without asking her brother for help, written most of what she remembered in her life from the age of five onwards, but there were several pages of questions she just couldn’t answer and a fair few she just didn’t know quite how to word. 

Harvey sped through the highlighted sections, his eyes flicking up at his sister as the problem dawned on him. Charlie hadn’t had an easy childhood. She didn’t have a family that fit properly on the traditional tree, didn’t have a narrative that she necessarily understood or wanted to share with a class of twenty-five other twelve-year-olds.

“I’ll give Oliver a call,” he said. “You shouldn’t be expected to--”

Charlie shook her head, snatching back the papers. “No, don’t call him. I just… I just need your help.” 

Harvey leaned into the countertop, taking a deep breath as he watched her. He’d rather help her with an exploding volcano, would rather be subjected to another elementary band performance, or play chaperone on another chaotic trip to the Zoo or the UN or the Museum of Natural History.

“You’re sure?” Harvey asked.

Charlie nodded. Even if she hadn’t been given the assignment, she wanted to know about the parts of her childhood she barely remembered, wanted to know how to tell her story without gaps or pauses to make space for the things she still hadn’t properly processed. 

“Alright. Give me a minute. You start on breakfast.” 

It would give Harvey a moment to get dressed and to figure out how he was gonna handle things, because he hadn’t processed it either. He always thought at some point his sister would have questions but he hadn’t imagined it would be so soon. 

Charlie turned towards him when he came back into the kitchen, fully dressed and with a thick folder in his hands. 

“What’s that?”

“1996 to 2007.” 

Harvey kept the file stowed away in the safe of his home office, all of the old pictures from before she was in their lives along with her birth certificate and the adoption and guardianship papers, medical records, some school work she’d done when she was small. He’d pulled it all from his father’s house the same day he’d brought her clothes and stuffed animals in from Long Island. He’d gone through once, had Donna make digital copies of the things that he might need with some frequency, and left the rest undisturbed. He started a new file when she came to be with him. 

Charlie nodded once, taking a deep breath. Harvey stepped forward and took the spatula from her as he set the folder down, flipping the pancake she’d forgotten. 

“You want to go through it alone or…?” 

“I uh…” she started, reaching for the file and pulling it closer. “Can we do it together?” 

Harvey nodded. “Let me know when you have questions.”

Charlie leaned into his side, flipping open to the first page and glancing at its contents before looking back to her brother who was focused on the air bubbles coming up on the surface of the pancake.

“Thank you for your help,” she said.

Harvey hugged her with his free arm and placed a kiss to her forehead. “That’s what I’m here for, kid.”

--

Suits (Lines to Live By) Masterlist

[everybodyscupoftea]

the art of making a move at a kegger

jj x reader

word count: 2877

warnings: drinking, cursing, and towards the end almost sexual content but not actually

synopsis: harboring feelings for jj + getting drunk doesn’t always equal the smoothest of times but it all works out in the end

requested by @maybebanks​ really hope you like it!

JJ wasn’t on your radar until he slept through three quizzes in a row during your 8:00 a.m. English freshman year. He sat across from you, and you thought he was pretty cute, even when he started showing up wearing Pike letters. Which coincidentally is when he started falling asleep during quizzes.

One morning, when the professor left the room and you were packing your backpack, you heard JJ clear his throat. You glanced up, unsure if it was for you or not, and caught him smiling at you sheepishly.

“Hey,” he mumbled, running a hand through his unruly hair, “I was wondering if you had the readings for Thursday, I lost the syllabus.”

You pulled out your planner, “Yeah, it’s Act 3 of Hamlet and a part from the textbook on dramatic irony, pages 176-179.”

He quickly jotted it down on the corner of his notebook and smiled tiredly at you, “Thanks so much, I can’t keep failing these fucking quizzes, my grade is cheeks right now.”

“Is everything okay?” you cautiously asked, you didn’t want to push but you were a little concerned about the cute boy.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair again, “Hazing shit, they’re making the new pledges stay up. I haven’t slept a full night in two weeks.”

“That’s, uh,” you weren’t really sure what to say, “not okay?” You settled on.

With a shrug, he tugged his backpack up and pushed in his chair, “Yeah, well, I guess it comes with being a legacy.” And then he was gone.

After that first interaction, you and JJ chatted every so often. Sometimes you’d let him cheat off your quizzes because they were pointless anyway and sometimes, you’d ask your professor to repeat one of the questions so he could get a second chance to answer if he was running late.

The last day of the semester he brought you coffee, “I just wanted to thank you for everything this semester, and I was hoping I could get your number so we can keep in touch.”

The next semester you had two classes together, much to your shock. When the two of you started to hang out outside of class to study for statistics, you learned some stuff about him. He was from the Outer Banks and he had a rough childhood. He was also receiving the Pell Grant so school was totally paid for, his only expense was the frat.

You also learned that the two of you were the same major and had to take all of the same courses, so the two of you decided to try and register for some of the same classes. It didn’t always work out, you had priority scheduling as a note taker for at least one class every semester and sometimes when JJ went to schedule, your section was already full. But sometimes it did work out.

Either way, the two of you always studied together. You used to go back and forth between apartments, one week was yours and one was JJ’s, until he moved into the frat house and no work was meant to be done in those walls. That atmosphere was conducive to parties only, something else JJ loved.

One afternoon, fall of your sophomore year, JJ balled up a piece of paper and threw it at you. It bounced off your forehead landed in your open coffee cup, and you looked up and glared at him, “Was that necessary?”

He gave you an innocent look, “Do you have plans next weekend?”

“I mean, we have a test the next Monday so I’ll probably be studying.”

JJ took the last sip of his coffee, “I have a formal and I need a date, wanna go?”

“Not particularly,” you responded with a shrug.

“No strings attached,” JJ told you, “promise. My friend from home, Kie, normally comes with me, but she has her own shit to do, and me and you get along. If you don’t go, I’ll have to take a stranger and then I’ll be bored.”

You’d been to some of the parties his frat threw, you knew he wouldn’t really be bored all night, he just didn’t want to have to actually work to get a date. Not that he’d have to work hard, his good looks would pretty much guarantee him a date. But you were a little intrigued, so you agreed.

“Great,” he told you, clapping his hands, “let me know what color your dress is and I’ll get a matching tie.”

“Fancy,” you told him with a smile.

“Kie loves matching, she’ll be proud,” JJ responded, and it made you really curious about Kie and the rest of his friends, but you didn’t ask.

Eventually you would get to meet them. JJ invited you to go home with him for spring break and he showed you around the Outer Banks, took you surfing, and threw a party that almost rivaled the ones his frat normally threw. Meeting his friends was nice, but really getting to know JJ was nicer. That’s when you started to complicate the ‘no strings attached’ deal, you felt yourself catching feelings.

By the time senior year rolled around, you were the most tired you’ve ever been. School was hard, having a job while doing school was harder and your social life was suffering. You still hung out with JJ a lot, mostly to study or to unwind and just watch TV, but he was really the only person you spent time with on a regular basis other than your coworkers.

Late on a Saturday afternoon, you were already in your pajamas, studying for an anatomy test, when there was a knock at your apartment door. Startled, you wrapped the blanket you were sitting under tightly around your shoulders and cautiously walked to the door. Peering through the peephole, you saw JJ standing there, looking at something on his phone.

You threw the door open, “What are you doing here?”

He looked up and smiled, “I’m here to kidnap you.”

“What?” you asked blankly, not really in the mood.

JJ pushed his way past you and sat on a barstool before answering, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how miserable you’ve been lately. When’s the last time you went out?”

And, God, when was the last time you’d done something fun? You sighed, “Fuck, I don’t know, like maybe a month ago when we went to that basketball game.”

With a hum, JJ stood up, “Get dressed, Pike’s throwing a kegger tonight.”

You didn’t even think twice before tossing the blanket onto the couch and going to your closet to find something to wear. JJ turned the TV on while you got fully dressed, minus makeup. Peeking your head out, you caught JJ’s attention, “Can I do my makeup at the house?”

He nodded, “Yeah. You almost ready because I’ve gotta pick up the keg soon?”

“Let’s go.”

JJ locked the door behind you and the two of you walked to his truck. The music blasted as soon as he cranked it up and he turned it down with a sheepish smile, “My bad, the song playing when I got here was a banger.”

Plugging your phone in, you put on the collaborative playlist you and JJ made together. He turned it back up a little and peeled out of the parking lot to the nearest liquor store where his frat normally got their kegs.

You bought cups at the convenience store next door while JJ loaded the keg into his truck, and a few pods because you were low and JJ was almost always out. JJ was leaning against the truck when you met him back in the shared parking lot, and he handed you a Twisted Tea, “For accompanying me on this adventure, madam.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” you responded, cracking it open and took a deep sip before climbing back into the truck to head to the frat house.

JJ left you to finish getting ready while he helped everyone set up for the party. You joined him eventually, having finished your first drink, and helped lock all bedroom doors and put all valuables away.

By the time people started arriving you were happily tipsy, hanging onto JJ while he talked to some of his friends, sipping beer slowly out of your assigned cup at the house. You were over there enough that you’d claimed one of your own and all the other guys that lived there respected it for the most part.

The party started to pick up and one of JJ’s frat brothers called you over to attempt a keg stand. You’d always wanted to try but never had, so you handed JJ your cup and kicked your feet up, trusting the two guys were ready to catch you. They did and someone put the spout into your mouth.

A crowd gathered around you and started counting loudly. You made it all the way to a minute before kicking to be let down. Slowly the two guys lowered your feet and your vision swam while beer bubbled in your throat. You almost choked but managed to swallow while everyone cheered around you. JJ wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Not bad for a first time!”

He topped your cup off and guided you away. You cleared your throat, “Thought I was gonna puke for a second there.”

“You turned a little green when you first came down, how you feeling now though?”

“Feeling fantastic,” you told him earnestly, swaying in place.

JJ chuckled, grabbing your shoulders, “You got plans tomorrow?”

“Anatomy.”

“So that’s a no, I won’t cut you off then.”

“Don’t cut me off, please,” you told him seriously, trying to focus on his face.

He gave you a little two finger salute, “Aye aye madam.”

You lost track of how many drinks you had as the night went on. Sometime during the night, JJ disappeared and came back with something besides beer for you which was really nice and you thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. He just laughed and squeezed your shoulder before going off to talk to someone else.

When the party started winding down, you attempted to find the Uber app on your phone to call a ride home. JJ tapped your shoulder, startling you, and in your clumsy, intoxicated state, you dropped your phone. It slid out of your eyesight and you glared at him, “Pick it up, J.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, amused.

“Goin home, party’s over.”

“Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Can’t make it up the stairs,” you told him seriously.

JJ raised his eyebrows, “You live on the second floor of your apartment building, at least here you have me to help you up the stairs.”

He had you there. So, you nodded and he took you to the kitchen for a clean cup. JJ filled it with water and made you drink two before leading you to the stairs. You lifted your foot to put it on the first step and almost fell over. JJ reached out but you shushed him, as if his silence would help you focus more on not falling over.

On the second try, you managed to climb up one step and immediately shuffled close to the wall so you could lean your whole body against it for balance while attempting to climb. It was a really slow process, but you were too stubborn to ask for help, and JJ knew better than to try to help you when you were feeling stubborn.

JJ stayed one step below you to help in case you started to fall backwards. Eventually you made it all the way up and immediately forgot which door led to his room. Huffing a laugh, JJ grabbed your wrist and led you to the second one on the left.

You sat down on the bed and went pretty much boneless at the comfort of finally not being on your feet.

“Fucks sake, dude,” JJ muttered, pushing you up into a sitting position.

“No,” you whined, fighting to lay back down.

It wasn’t hard for JJ to keep you sitting up, “You’re going to be so pissed if you wake up in your clothes with makeup on, you need to change and get ready for bed.”

He was right again, but you didn’t have the comprehension level to remember how to do that so you shrugged in response. JJ sighed and helped you kick your shoes off before going to get you a change of clothes from his drawers. You somehow managed to get your shirt off and your shorts unbuttoned, but he had to help you get the new shirt on and change shorts.

The guy JJ shared a bathroom with’s girlfriend left makeup wipes and JJ helped you get all your makeup off. You kept making faces to be difficult because you liked the furrow between his eyebrows as he tried to focus on being gentle.

“I will intentionally poke you in the eyeball if you do not stop,” he warned.

Pouting, you poked his cheek, “Don’t bully me, I’m drunk.”

He threw the wipe away and looked at you exasperatedly, “Brush your teeth, your breath smells like a liquor store.”

Giggling, you grabbed your spare toothbrush from the drawer next to his and sloppily started brushing your teeth. JJ was standing behind you and leaning on you, trapping you between the counter and his body so you didn’t fall over or sway.

The bright bathroom lights plus the water were clearing your brain a little, but you were still gone and not really able to focus on anything for more than a few seconds at a time. You leaned back to feel his chest moving as he brushed his teeth and giggled at the feeling.

JJ sighed again and gently nudged you out of the way to spit and rinse in the sink and you followed suit, having forgotten to do so yourself. You followed him out of the bathroom and grabbed his hand as he led you back to his room.

From what you could remember, JJ slept on the left, so you climbed into the right side of his bed and stretched out comfortably. He crawled in behind you a few minutes later, and you turned around to look at him. He had a small smile on his face as he looked back at you and reached up to push a piece of hair that had fallen in your eyes out of the way.

Suddenly, you were overcome by the urge that you’d been fighting for over a year and you leaned forward to kiss him. He froze and you almost regretted it until he started kissing you back.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours but could’ve only been minutes until he rolled the two of you over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you. Your lips were only separated for a few seconds before he was kissing you again, more deeply than before.

Sighing into the kiss, you brought a hand up to his head and ran your fingers through his hair. He groaned lightly at the feeling and you felt a hand creeping up your thigh. Before it could get too far, you nudged his shoulders back to catch your breath. He kept stroking your thigh and you shifted, “Hey, can we wait maybe?”

“Wait for what?” JJ asked you, confused.

“To fuck,” you told him bluntly.

JJ huffed out a surprised laugh, “Oh, uh, yeah definitely.”

You grinned at him sheepishly, “Sorry, you’re my best friend and if we’re going to do this, I want to be sober and you know, really ready.”

“Right, yeah, I totally get it,” he reassured you, dropping back down next to you.

You sighed as he wrapped his arm around you again. Lifting your head, you let it rest on one of his biceps and drank in his facial features. He held onto one of your hands and played with your fingers, not looking at you directly.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, feeling a little uncertain.

JJ looked at you, furrow back between his eyebrows but a little different than before, “I’m the one who should be saying sorry.”

“What?” you asked, feeling the urge to press the wrinkle until it went away.

“For forcing myself onto you,” JJ mumbled.

Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t keep up with the conversation, “Wait what?”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes again, so you lifted his chin until the two of you were almost nose to nose. JJ shut his eyes, “You’re really drunk, I shouldn’t have ever returned the kiss because you might regret it in the morning.”

“No, I really do like you JJ, I just,” you paused, trying to find the right words, “I just want it to be special, I guess,” you trailed off, hoping it made sense.

JJ smiled gently and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “We can talk about it tomorrow, yeah?”

With a giant yawn, you nodded and the last thing you remember is him running a hand through your hair and tangling your legs together.