#i just want this semester to be over and god i regret not dropping these two goddamn fucking classes i shouldve taken the L and lost 500$

[thaimolpiyas]

god i hate this fucking geology class

[cutebat]

You know what, fuck it. I'm going to write my own neglectful yandere batfamily cause everyone else is doing it, but I'm going to do it in a different way.

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

Prologue (Diary Entry)

Warning(s): Mentions of yandere themes, neglect, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse, forcing to drop out, attempted guilt tripping, reader is just venting out her feelings

(I made this in the reader's POV to make the whole 'diary entry' thing more sense.)

~~~~~

July 22, 2024

It's funny when someone tells their story.

Only to be told back that it's unrealistic.

Almost as if they're afraid to believe it's real...

Oh, God, that sounded dark.

~~~~~

For everyone who doesn't know,

Bruce is a billionaire who's also a shitty dad

Dick is a dick, like actually

Jason uses his trauma to let all his frustrations on me

Tim is a delusional bitch

Cass was okay until she knocked me to the ground

Damian is just a thing who you want to burn to ashes

Alfred... I guess is just Alfred

~~~~~

I was basically raised as what people would call a 'black sheep'. Kind of like... actually, I don't need to explain all that.

Basically, I was adopted by the infamous Bruce Wayne when I was ten for whatever reason. After the first day of living with him and the family and giving me the new role of Batgirl, everyone just pretended as if I didn't exist.

I tried to interact with every one of them and all I got were "sorry, can't talk right now" and "can you shut up".

Like, WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO THEM?!

Is it because I'm prettier than all of them and had barely any trauma in my past? Seriously, why are people so jealous about these kinds of things?

Bruce really signed all that paperwork for nothing.

Of course, my little ten year old brain would think that if I tried to impress all of them with what I could do, maybe I could gain their attention.

So by the time I was twelve with my ten year old mindset goal in my head, I did nine different after school activities, won over fifteen awards for my achievements, and went out to patrol at least six nights a week.

And none of that worked! Those fuckers wouldn't even spare me a glance!

~~~~~

After a while, you don't see a point in trying your best.

I dropped out of most of the clubs I regret joining, I just laid back in my classes, and most of all...

I quit being Batgirl.

I didn't want to, but like I said, where's the point in that?

So with that, I just gave up on everything and just... stopped trying.

~~~~~

But then one year all of that almost changed?

For the first time ever, I found myself suddenly really pretty, and after a month I entered eighth grade, I was suddenly asked out by one guy, then two, and all the way up to ten!

It was like really cool!

The popular girls became my best friends, more guys would ask me out, and the teachers started pointing out that I was their favorite student, even the ones who weren't my teachers.

It felt like I was on top of everything. That I was special. The world is revolving around me.

Finally, I was in a place to build a great reputation.

And then life was like FUCK THAT!

~~~~~

After the first semester of eighth grade, Bruce was weirdly in my room and he said wanted to have a 'talk' with me.

So, during this talk, he was basically talking about the last three years of me being neglected by him and his family. To be honest, I forgot everything he told me, but honestly, I don't really care.

He also told the others about all this and now they suddenly feel bad which I don't give a shit about. But, I knew he was doing all this to guilt trip me, which was honestly so stupid.

Now, after he dropped that bomb, he told me that I had to drop out of school to do some "bonding time" with the others along with him and the people who actually cared about me didn't really matter at all!

I JUST GOT SETTLED IN!

All I said was "FUCK YOU" and just stormed out of my room with the only thing that I took was my diary that I had for quite a while that I never used before.

~~~~~

So, yeah. I'm currently in the attic, venting my feelings all out on this stupid glitter diary with a random pen that I found on the ground.

But whatever.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters...

My life is just a game.

A sick, hopeless game.

[takes1]

p.2 bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

warnings. nsfw. m!masturbation at the end. midterms mentioned. minors DNI content. misinterpretation of emotions. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush. enemies to lovers. or maybe enemies with benefits, i haven't decided yet. manager!reader. tsukki being so incredibly horny. tsukki not understanding facial expressions. sexual frustration. male masturbation + implied previous. kiyoko being a friend. yachi being a friend. 1.7k words notes. 3 more parts planned! ask to be added to the taglist if you don't want to miss one! links. PART ONE HERE. PART THREE . PART FOUR. FINAL PART. masterlist for mha. my ao3. masterlist for haikyuu

Despite your iced latte being mostly just water by now, you still sucked it down in desperation to get every ounce of caffeine you could. Midterms were just around the corner and one of your most difficult classes involved writing a 10-page scientific paper.

You had the whole semester to do it, so the dread you felt now was the amalgamation of months' worth of opportunity that you could've and should've used to work on it.

Thankfully, you didn't have to churn the majority of this thing out alone.

"What the hell does ameliorate mean." Kiyoko asked, though her soft frustration was starting to sound more like a statement now.

Yachi took every opportunity she could to stop doing her work, including this one. For her, there was less pressure to do perfectly on her finals since she had another two years to get those top marks.

She scanned her laptop screen for a moment, lips perched on the lid of her strawberry refresher: "Ameliorate means... To... make something bad or unsatisfactory better."

Kiyoko muttered something about how it still didn't make sense. Of course it wouldn't- she was taking an organic chemistry course.

The plan as it stood now was to rot in this spot all day until hunger moved you, so you all made an event out of it by putting on something cute, grabbing some coffees and pastries from a cafe nearby, and settling into this local library.

It wasn't planned, but you all simultaneously chose to wear skirts and cute summer tops. The mutual reaction of humor helped ease the pain of having to study all day. Suffering together was preferable to suffering alone.

The chance finally came again to stretch your legs and find another vaguely relevant reference to add to your bibliography.

With a rewarding, careful stretch, you rose out of your chair and took your time walking up and down the aisles to find something to support the fifth theory you'd written about so far.

Midterms were one stressor, but you weren't afforded the privilege of having tunnel vision over it.

Qualifiers were just around the corner, and you had the Tokyo training camp to prepare a load of equipment and personnel logs for.

As you selected a thick novel from a shelf above your head, you let out a small sigh.

The front matter described a concept you could start to look into and fluff up to your liking for the paper. Your mind fell back to the team, and how you wanted to do well on these exams so you'd have less to worry about going to Tokyo.

The side of your face was growing warm, probably from the East-facing window to your left, so you raised the back of a cold hand to cool yourself down.

You were just deciding to take this book back when, in the process of dropping your hand, you caught a blur of blond hair and glasses in the corner of your eye.

Your stomach jolted, heart starting to race, and an uncontrollable surprise took over your features.

Tsukishima was sitting, leaned over a table on his elbows, his head twisted all the way to the side to look at you over his shoulder.

You quickly looked back to the shelf and sucked in a breath. God, that must've looked so lame- you regretted every millisecond of that reaction and prayed he wouldn't ever bring it up.

He hated you. You didn't want anything to do with him. There was no pleasant exchange to get out of saying hello, or even acknowledging each other. It's not like you were friends.

Why was he even here? You started to get worried, but realized that he did ride the same train back with you after practice in the evenings.

Now you were really remembering. He got off one stop before yours and always moved to create the most space possible between you. You usually didn't see him again until he got off. Even then, you didn't care enough to look for him anymore.

You glanced back to him, expecting to now have to speak to him after you'd exchanged a mutual acknowledgment of each other's presence.

He was staring. But... that wasn't exactly the right word for it.

He was distracted. You wondered if he knew who you were, because you'd never seen him stare at you for more than a few seconds.

His brow wasn't pinched like usual. It was relaxed- in fact, everything about him was relaxed. The way his head was held in his hand, the loose grasp on his pencil, the subtle part of his lips. The lazy, yet measured scan of his eyes.

There was a reddish tint at the tips of his ears and highest points of his cheeks. It was astoundingly easy to notice, since he was so fair-skinned.

A strong chill ran up your spine when he finally made eye contact with you. Even then, it took a glance down to the book clasped against your chest, then back up for him to really notice your gaze and stiffen right up.

That new side of him vanished in an instant. It was replaced with a brief, stone-cold glower before he turned back to his own midterm work.

On the stiff walk back to your table, you smoothed your skirt out and pulled on the edge a bit before sitting back down.

It took a minute of silent sitting to even begin to unpack what you felt.

"Do I look stupid?"

Yachi instantly piped up, "Of course not! You're very pretty!"

"You really shouldn't waste your breath asking," Kiyoko glanced up at you.

It was brief but it rested your immediate insecurities.

"Why?" Yachi, once again, wanted nothing more than to just hang out and talk.

Another surge of chills. It was sickening.

You put your head in your hands, elbows on the table. "Mm-mm, it's just-..." You thought to tell them, but held back at the last second, "I dunno."

Another big sigh and you were back to typing to take your mind off of it. You'd have plenty of time to see what this spun into once you were free from this academic prison. It was too confusing right now.

Kiyoko didn't read into it, but Yachi lingered until 1) it was obvious you simply didn't want to disclose and 2) an abnormally tall boy from school walked past your table. She watched him watch you on his way towards the exit.

Her eyes narrowed with keen intuition.

the keen intuition in question:

Kei felt himself practically melt against the closed door of his bedroom. Breathless from a difficult and quick walk home, he fumbled with the tie of his sweatpants and the lock on the door concurrently.

"Finally," He sighed with a desperate laugh, "Fuck..."

His bag hit the floor with a sharp and careless thump. He stepped over it and fell onto his back on his mattress, a long arm stretched toward his side table for some lotion.

It was useless trying to study after that. Library or home, it didn't matter unless he could fuck this one out.

This time he didn't have to stalk your Instagram to spark his imagination; it was already running rampant with filthy ideas of what he'd do to you in that short skirt.

An ignored, aching erection sprang out of his waistband as he pushed it down and out of the way.

Light grey sweatpants had (for the first time in his life) ended up being a shit idea. All he could worry about on the 20 minute walk back was if anyone could see the tip of his cock tucked up just under his shirt.

Every shirt was too short. Every pair of pants was too big in the middle.

His slippery hand was beautiful relief. He was quick to get himself lubricated, and quicker to pump in slow, twisting motions to the image of you reaching, reaching, reaching up to that book on your tippy toes.

All the worry in his tight brow washed away in crashing waves of steady-growing pleasure.

Soon he didn't care about the harrowing journey home, the threat of midterms, nor the growing dread of that training camp.

It was just you.

It felt like fate that he got the only chance anyone might ever have to see the curve of your ass just under the hem of your skirt. You were able to get that book all too quickly.

If everything were different, he would've gotten it for you. You would've thanked him, kissed him on the cheek- he would've pulled you in for a heated, raunchy kiss with a hand palming you closer. He would've savored the view of you spread on the table for him -homework long forgotten- and his massive hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. It was a library, after all.

He seethed and stalled for a moment--, "a-ahh- Mm..."

His cock twitched hard with the need to cum, but he stopped just soon enough.

An oversized hand was holding the base; he looked at his other dry one, then closed his eyes in an eager but fruitless attempt to visualize just how they'd look on your thighs. Fuck, anywhere at this point.

Just one touch, that's all he wanted. He never let himself get close enough to even consider it, but my god, the internal struggle he made to stay away was commendable.

His tight, lightly sweaty stomach flexed with effort as he slowed down again.

You were so quick to switch up when it came to him. He could tell he had a special place in your heart, the way your lips pursed into a small frown and your eyes narrowed when he tested you.

It was out-of-this-world cute from his vantage point. A smile might just kill him.

"Mmm, fu-ck," He croaked, mind circling back to today.

His chest swelled with a shaky inhale- he smirked at the thought of you finding out about his terrible secret, how you would punish him for his unprofessional behavior. You were so pretty when you got mad.

The breath caught in his throat. He wasn't even thinking about the skirt when he finally came all over his stomach. Just that pretty face of yours did it for him.

taglist:

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[highwayorgantrade]

Art History

Pairing: (cis)fem!reader x Carlisle Cullen

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Cursing, the most mild nsfw (basically intense kissing and references to sex), minor choking, general tomfoolery.

Summary: A certain doctor helps you find resources for your college art history class.

Spotify Playlist: Art History

A/N: Aaah okay my first fic on this blog!! I'm so excited to get back into writing, especially with my favorite characters and people. Also, I'm sorry, I love Esmé as much as everyone else does, she does not exist here and Carlisle is the Ultimate Single Father™. And God, I did not expect it to be this long!!

The way that you met the Cullens was, at best, not ideal. A broken down car here, the offer of a ride there. It wasn't a bad thing - the friendship you had with the family had lasted all through high school up to a local community college.

When they told you the truth about who they were, what they were, you thought it was a joke.

"Yeah, very funny. Halloween isn't for another two months, and you can't all go as vampires, that would be so stupid." You snorted, returning to the homework that was scattered on the dining room table.

"(Y/N)... Think about it." Alice placed her hand on your shoulder, forcing you to listen.How are you just now noticing her hands are so cold? "Have you ever seen any of us eat? Go into the sun?"

You didn't want to think about it, you knew they would never lie to you like this. It's too insane to be a lie. But didn't they lie and pretend like they were human? It was just all too confusing, so naturally, it took you a few days before you starting going around their house again. They answered all your questions, even when you decided to punish them all a bit for not telling you sooner.

"So, have you ever thought about the ecological damage you might be doing with all the hunting?" You had been interrogating them for hours, but honestly? They were grateful. Grateful that you didn't run off and tell the entire town, or worse, flee from Forks and lose you forever.

"Honestly, we all have different preferences." Emmett replied cooly, as if you were chatting about movies. "I prefer some of the bigger stuff: Bears, wildcats. It's mostly deer, though."

"Never people." Carlisle confirms with a smile, and you almost immediately regret giving him a chance to speak. Before their confession, the pounding of your heart was a fun secret, a dream you knew would never come true. The scenarios have run through your head all the time, anytime you looked at him. And those rare moments where you felt brave enough to make eye contact? But now, you knew that it was basically a public confession. You never talked about it. The Cullens never did, either.

"I know one of you has to know something about the Reliquary of Sainte Foy." You sighed, dropping your bag at your feet.

"Please, (y/n), come in." Edward quipped from the living room.

"I mean, this whole thing makes no sense!" You continued, thinking back to every single time you've used Edward to complain. "First, she starts off the semester with the Renaissance, then goes to modern minimalism, then back to freakin' Jesus times?"

"You know," Alice strode in, reading over the same paper, "When I have questions about art history, I usually ask Carlisle." She leaned against the counter. "He's the oldest of us." The look her and Edward shared were lost to you, as you already began to think of excuses as to why you shouldn't be alone in a room with him. The fear of looking and sounding stupid overcame the desire to just do anything with him. The desire to mess up that stupidly perfect hair of his, or his cold hands roughly wrapping around your-.

No. Absolutely not.

"Ah, no! I wouldn't want to bother him. He's probably super busy, with all of his... doctoring stuff-"

"Nonsense." Edward smiled. "He would be overjoyed to help."

"Edward, seriously, don't-" You pleaded, but it was too late. Carlisle's name echoed throughout the house, but it felt like a death bell.

"I hope you find your answers!" Alice quickly took her exit out the front door, with Edward following right behind her, with a polite "Excuse me."

"(Y/N)!" He greeted you fondly, noticing Edward and Alice's backs as they walked deeper into the forest that surrounded the house. "Didn't Edward call for me?" He was watching them, but you were watching how he saw you and immediately smiled, and the way his arms flexed on the table.

Stop.

"Yeah, he did. They insisted that you could help me with art history, but this is old, old crap, and like, yeah, you're old, but you're not that old, so it's not really..." He began to smile again. "Super important." You finished, suddenly very aware of how you were standing. And how your hand rested so close to his. And how hot your face suddenly got.

"Well, what is it you need my help with?" He took your assignment paper. "The Reliquary of Sainte Foy. Around what time was that?" He looked back at you.

"Uh, the- Jesus times. Like upper double digits for the year. Which, I mean, I don't know when you were born, but I don't think you're that old, I mean you're still fun and pretty cool." God, why couldn't you just stop talking!

"Come on." He turned his back, taking your picking up your bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "I think I have something in my office."

His office? He's taking you to his office? You've been inside of it before, but it wasn't just him and you, it was him and his kids. Just keep reminding yourself: You are his children's friend. You're friends with every single one of this man's children. You're probably not even on his radar! A (publicly) mid-30 year old local surgeon, and men that looked like him in this part of Washington was rare. And to be going after a college student? Pull it together.

The steely resolve quickly crumbled as he held the door open for you to walk past him, and if you had any doubts he could hear your heart before, they were absolutely gone. You could hear your pounding heart in your head. The office was gorgeous, a few lamps and some candles gave the dark office a warm glow, and you could see he had been actively working on... something?

"I'm so sorry, did I interrupt something?" You glanced at the papers on his desk.

"Oh, no, I was just going over some old files. You could never interrupt me."

Oh.

"Now." He began scanning a section of his large bookshelves. "I unfortunately was not born in 'Jesus times,' but I was born in 1640, and my father was an Anglican priest, so I might have something about early Christian relics." He finally pulled a large dark blue book from the shelf and handed it to you. "What about The Book of Sainte Foy? Written in 1010 A.D. and translated in 1995."

"Yes, please, that would be amazing." You replied quickly, eager to spend as little time in this room as possible.

"(Y/N), you seem stressed. If college is getting to be too much, you could always take a break." His eyebrows knit together and set the book on his desk. Your eyes followed his hand and you swallowed. This cannot be happening.

"Uh, no, it's not college! College is fine. It's just... other stuff." Your hands clasped together to try and ease some of your nerves.

"Well, (Y/N), if it's something more personal, you know you can always talk to me. I've enjoyed having you around and I hate to see you upset." You knew he was trying to ease information out of you, but his words just made it harder.

"Carlisle, I-" Oh god. No. Stop talking. His hand came to rest on your upper arm, his icy hand almost burning your hot skin. You've imagined this so many times "It's you!"

Wait. No! Keep talking! The look of slight shock and confusion on his face combined with the gentle grip he had on your arm had wiped your brain of whatever you were going to say. His hand relaxed and fell back to his side.

"Me? (Y/N), did I make you uncomfortable?" His voice was soft, but serious. Fix this, now!

"No! Well, sort of. But no! Just... listen." You rubbed the back of your neck, shifting your weight between your legs. He leaned back against his desk and looked at you.

This was going to be hard.

"It's just... You make me nervous because you know, you're like a genetically modified beauty of a human being. I mean, have you seen yourself? Actually seen yourself?"

Carlisle opened his mouth to respond but he couldn't get the words out before you continued.

"You are... gorgeous. And I know, Edward's complained to me about that whole 'Oh, our beauty just lures in innocent prey so we can destroy them,' thing, but you're just a... a genuinely beautiful person. You help people in need, you go to some extreme lengths to help people because why? Because you're a doctor and it's what you do, damn it! It's amazing. You're amazing." You took a breath, filling your lungs with all the words you've kept to yourself. "And I like your hands."

And you like his hands? That's what your confession is ending on? Okay, own it.

"You like my hands?" He questioned, biting back a smile. Of course that's what he focused on. "Tell me about my hands." He stood up off his desk and moved closer to you. You felt like the breath was being sucked out of your lungs as you tried to organize your thoughts.

"Well, they're..." His hand came up to your face, thumb grazing your cheekbone.

"Go on."

"I like the way they're..." In an effort to look anywhere else but his eyes, you glanced down to his chest. His face seemed to inch closer to yours as you searched for words you knew you wouldn't find. The hand on your face traveled to the back of your neck, and his other hand found the small of your back. Your hands rested on his biceps, your last attempt to try to cover up your attraction towards him.

"Tell me you want this." Carlisle whispered, pressing you closer to him, encouraged by your racing heart.

"I want this so bad." You admitted, and those were the words that broke the both of you. He pressed you against a bookshelf as his lips met yours, and the amount of passion coming from Carlisle was shocking. His thumb came around your neck to wrap around the front, and the simple weight of his hand caused you to moan in his mouth. He smiled into the kiss and your hands went to his hair, tugging as gently as you could.

"Jump." He whispered in between kisses. The faint taste of spearmint lingered, and you whined at the loss.

"What?" You pulled back and stared at him.

"Jump."

God, please let his vampire strength come in clutch. You wrapped your legs around his waist and his hands found the bottom of your thighs. He placed you on top of his desk, careful as to not disturb any documents or books, and pulled you in again. this time, there was something different. The kiss was more insistent, more demanding.

"More." He groaned, and slotted his head into the curve of your neck, biting gently, and kissing the same spots.

You had never seen Carlisle like this, never this... out of control.

"So, when is this paper due?" He asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. He walked back to the door of his office, laying his hand on the doorknob. You simply stared at him, still catching your breath. Did he seriously just ask that? Now? "Is it tonight?"

"No?"

"Good." He grinned at you, and turned the lock. "Because it's not getting done."

[theogarachnophobe]

Just The Way Things Grow Prologue

A gay male weight gain story

By: overgrownmassiveprince/Arachnophobe

Prologue:

“Jeez, man, look at him!” I pointed to the guy over at the end of the gym.  He was easily curling these fifty pound dumb bells and the veins on his arm were at least half an inch around.  He was massive and I could feel myself starting to drool.  Not at how big his arms were (they were probably close to twenty-four inches), but at his huge ‘roid belly.  The thing was a huge tank.  Almost completely spherical and probably hard as a rock.  He had all the tell-tale signs of not being “natty” that’s for sure.

“Wonder what he juices with?” My buddy, Ethan, bumped my shoulder with his elbow, still holding onto the kettle bell he was working with.

“I wouldn’t even know to ask,” I sighed slightly.  Not because I’m not big myself.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m pretty big for not using anything other than protein powders and eating a little extra.  The summer was over, so now it was the time to get the mass to promote the gains.  

Even if I would have been happy never stepping in this stupid place again.

But then I would miss Ethan.

I turned to look at him, the sweat glistening on his skin and clumping together the dark patch of hair under his arm.  We were well into our final set and he was smelling ripe, but looking pumped.

God, I love him, I thought to myself.

Ethan Mathers has been my best friend for about twenty years now.  We were both kinda chubby kids in middle school, and then he hit puberty before me, and it was all over.  Over the course of the spring semester of eighth grade, he went from barely five and half feet to over six feet tall.  His chubbiness spread out and then came the hair.  

His Italian genes or something must have broken through like waters through a flood gate, because he started having to shave that summer.  And he didn’t stop changing there.  Deeper voice, bigger hands, and I swear to God his feet became like boats.  He was in a size thirteen wide sneaker by tenth grade, and then by eleventh grade he was in a fifteen.

Meanwhile, my best friend was becoming this hunk.  He lifted a book and his bicep grew.  He did one push up and his chest became this massive membrane of taut muscle.  Permanent five o’clock shadow made him look at least twenty-one by Junior year.

And still he stuck by me.  I didn’t fully come into my own until around Junior year.  At 17, you would have thought I was some kind of mutant.  I still sounded like a girl.  I didn’t even have peach fuzz on my face, no hair under my arms and I don’t think my balls dropped until that night.

Oh, God, that night.

Ethan decided we were to be adults soon, having been pressured to start looking at colleges and taking the ACTs and SATs to do all the bullshit to get prepped for our future.  So instead of being the good kids we usually were, Ethan decided to get beer.  We drove in his beat up Honda Civic to the next town over, he strolled into the convenience store, grabbed a twelve pack and paid for it.  The guy behind the counter doesn’t say anything and then Ethan comes out looking like he just stole state secrets from the Pentagon.

“Tonight, we’re getting LIT!” He said with his deep voice, filling the car with his bravado.

“Do people even say that anymore?” I say back to him.  I immediately regret it because after hearing his deep manly voice, I sound like a little kid.  His annoying little brother even though I’m five months older than him.

“Come on, Jace,” the rolls his eyes, “Say it with me!”  He raises his voice in a falsetto.  “We gettin’ litty titty tonight!”  He laughs and nudges me with his elbow.  “Come on!” I laugh and raise my voice, although I try not to go too high because I don’t want to sound like the fat bitch that I am.  “WE GETTIN’ LITTY TITTY TONIGHT!”

We laugh louder than we intend to and he pushes the cold cardboard case into my belly and we ride back to his house.  We sneak into the family room, which is really just their finished basement and crack open the first can.  We cheers each other and start drinking.

It’s cold but tastes terrible.  I don’t think either of us want to admit that we don’t like the taste because we both exclaim “LITTY TITTY!” in unison.  

An hour later (and all but four beers gone), we are drunk and bloated.  I feel like I’m at least ten pounds fatter than I was when we started, and even hunky Ethan, with his furry abs looks chubby.  And that’s when it happens.

Ethan starts crying.

He looks at me and says, “I have to tell you something.”

I want to cry, too.  He’s my big beautiful perfect best friend, and he’s obviously upset.  I start thinking the worst and wait for him to say that we can’t be friends anymore.  I wait for him to say we’re not going to go to the same college we’ve both been looking at.  I’m waiting for him to rip the rug out from under me and destroy my world.

“I’m gay,” Ethan says through hitched sobs.  He is full blown red faced, snot nosed, giant crocodile tears upset.  He looks at me sideways and his brown eyes are glossy from the beer, but seeking my response.  

I take one of the last four beers, hand it to him, and I take one myself.  I crack it open and take several chugs, feeling my belly balloon out even more.  So much so that my jeans are starting to cut into my under belly.  I take a breath, belch and smile at him.

“That’s cool,” I say back a little slurred.  “Me, too.”

I’m not sure it’s true.  But in that moment, I take a few seconds to think.

Have I kissed a girl?

No.

Have I jacked off to a girl?

No.

Do I want to kiss a girl?

No.

I want to kiss Ethan.  I want to hug Ethan.  I want to run my fingers through his bouncy black wavy hair.  I want to feel his bloated belly against mine.  I want to kiss a boy.

This whole time Ethan sits and stares at me.  The tears have stopped, he sniffs a couple of times and then wipes his face with the back of his shirt sleeve.  He pops the tab on the beer, takes a few drinks, looks at me, and then…

WHAM!  The basement door flies open and in walks his big bear of a dad.  He looks at us both, crosses his arms over his own prodigious belly and shakes his head.

“Bed.  Now!” He barks at us.  We know better than to argue.  We get up and head upstairs to Ethan’s bedroom.  Ethan shuffles out of his clothes, looking thick and juicy with his beer bloat going on, and climbs into bed.  I crawl into the sleeping bag on the floor and roll over.  The room spins a little as I get my bearings and then I feel my big belly slosh over.  As I try not to get sick, I hear Ethan try to get my attention with a PSST!

I roll over, room spins, and in the dark I see Ethan and his big eyes looking at me.  He is smiling and he says, “I’m glad we can be gay best friends.”  And then he rolls over and goes to sleep.

That was the first night I jacked off to a big hairy bloated Ethan.  I came everywhere in my underwear and felt so happy.

The next morning, my voice started cracking when I talked.  By the end of the next week, I started growing hair on my stomach.  Ethan and I acted like everything was normal.  Only this time, we would whisper to each other who we thought was hot in our class.  We talked about the big Senior football players and the tall lanky basketball starters, and we just gossiped about who we wanted to take our V-card.  We both decided to wait until college to “give it up.”  We also made a firm pact that nothing was going to keep us apart.  

Ethan was always taller than me, stopping his growth spurt at a solid six foot, four inches, and I eventually came to rest at around six foot one.  I eventually got a decent amount of body hair on my chest and belly and I started to look like this sexy little otter.  My fat distributed itself well over my frame and I started to look normal.  

We went to college, Ethan started this weight training course as an elective, and considering we shared a dorm room, he made me join him at the gym.  Several boyfriends later between the two of us (more him than me), and we eventually decided it was best to just live out the bachelor life together.  We graduated, got an apartment together, and started working out and being adults.  We got jobs that paid the rent, but Ethan NEVER stopped working out.  And with the rigorous life we led, the only time we ever got to spend together was at the gym.

And still I carried this torch for him.  Still I would fantasize about that night in his bedroom.  Oh there were plenty of other times I saw Ethan drunk.  He came home many nights, slurring his words, cuddling up with me on the couch, wishing that he could find a good guy like me.  Someone stable.  Someone familiar.  Someone comfortable.

Then the next night, he’s bringing home this wannabe underwear model with an eight-pack and I hear Ethan plowing away at this guy.  The model was screaming “Antoine!  ANTOINE!”  And I wanted to barge in there and scream, “HIS NAME IS ETHAN AND HE’S MY BOYFRIEND!”  But I never did.  And we never were.  And we have only ever just been friends.  

My furry Italian stud with eight percent body fat and pecs that bounce when he does jumping jacks in the living room.  My Adonis of a roommate who when he wears those AMAZING Lulu workout pants, I can see just have thick and juicy his dick is.  How low his balls hang.  How when he hasn’t washed them in a while, his junk drags the pants down a little and I can see just how hairy he’s gotten as he’s gotten older.  He makes me shave his back because he doesn’t want to look like his dad.  Mr. Mathers, who only ever got bigger as he got older, was the meanest looking sausage-like man I ever met, and man, did I wish Ethan would give in just a little bit.

But it will never happen.  Ethan loves the gym too much.  Ethan loves being ripped.  Ethan loves how great his clothes fit.  Ethan loves making sure I’m getting enough calories in so that my gains are just as good as his.  They never are, but he tries.  Ethan, who through all of his hard work, has been keeping away the mid-thirties spread for the both of us. Ethan, who to this day is still man I carry a torch for, is looking at me and gesturing to the big ‘roided out guy.

“Dude,” Ethan looks at me, “If you want to talk to him.  Go!  It’s been a while since I saw you bring someone home.  Maybe he’s into juicy otters like you.”  He grabs my bicep and smiles, “Someone has been increasing their protein.  You big beast!”  He mock fans himself and winks at me.  “Go talk to him.  If you don’t, I will.  It’s been a while since I had a giant in my bedroom.”

I shrug, pick up my water bottle, chug some liquid, and shake my head.  “Nah, I’d just give anything look like him.”

I set my bottle down and grab my bag, realizing I’m done for the night.

Ethan smiles at me, one of his normal fiendish smirks, “Careful whatcha wish for, boyo.”

[densi-mber]

Meant to Be

A/N: I’m taking advantage of this prompt to continue yesterday’s story. Once again, suggested by @mashmaiden.

***

“What’s next on the agenda?” Kensi asked, peeling down the paper wrapping on her burrito. She sat beside Deeks, Rosa on his other side as they peered at the very thorough plan he’d arranged for today’s college visit.

They’d set up a little picnic outside the same fountain she’d stopped by during her own visit so many years ago. A lot had changed since then, but the park and fountain remained the same.

“After we finish eating, I want to show Rosa the pre-law department and introduce her to a few faculty,” Deeks replied. He was practically radiating excitement, which seemed to be transferring to Rosa. Over the course of the morning, she’d become more enthusiastic, and even opened up more about her career preferences.

“Not the one who called you a worthless hippy, right?” Rosa checked, a little apprehensively.

“Definitively not. He retired years ago, thank god.”

“Oh good.” Rosa sighed in relief. “That sounds fine. Then maybe we can visit the art department.”

“We can definitely do that. Ooh, and we have to stop off for ice cream before we leave,” Deeks said. “So what do you think, you want to come here, right?”

“Babe, don’t pressure her,” Kensi protested, lightly smacking his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“It’s ok,” Rosa assured her with a smile. “I’m making a list of pros and cons for every college we visit. I promise I won’t make any hasty decisions.”

“Well in that case, my alma mater is pretty good too. I bet I could get you a private interview with the president.” Kensi gave Rosa a pointed look.

“True, but I’d argue the law program isn’t quite as good,” he argued.

“You know, I actually thought about coming here,” Kensi shared. “I got as far as writing my acceptance letter.”

“What made you change your mind?” Rosa asked curiously.

“I received a full-ride scholarship to Cornell.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t really afford to turn it down.”

“Miss Fancy Pants,” Deeks teased with a fond wink. “I only got tuition covered. Which I’m of course very grateful for.” He shot Kensi a warning look, probably just in case she felt compelled to mention how he closed the financial gap.

They were quiet for a few minutes while they dug into their food, and Kensi continued to look around the campus. It felt strange to think that she had ever been as young as Rosa, or the students scurrying around, making decisions that would impact the rest of her life.

“The day I came here, I got really lost,” she reminisced.

“Kensi Marie Blye admitting a weakness? Shocking.”

“Shut up. I was 17 and the map they gave me was awful.” Turning to face Deeks, she continued. “I bet you got lost your first day too.”

“Maybe,” Deeks allowed. “But by my second semester, I was a tour guide and I learned all the secrets. I was like a muggle Fred and George Weasley.”

“It’s funny you should mention that, because a tour guide helped me out.”

Deeks frowned, a look of dawning realization crossing his face. “Wait, what did this guy look like?”

Kensi had to force her mind back twenty or so years. “Uh, tall with long blonde hair, blue…no.” Kensi dropped to a shocked whisper, staring at Deeks in disbelief. “You were the guy.”

“And you were the girl who almost hit me,” Deeks finished.

“Why did you try to hit him?” Rosa cut in, sounding intrigued.

“I did not almost hit him, and if I did, it was because he surprised me.”

“You also flirted with me.”

“That was just me being friendly,” Kensi insisted.

“Uh-huh.”

“You know what, I think we should talk about that hair.” She turned to Rosa. “It was shoulder length.”

“Ok, that’s a bit of an exaggeration and long hair was in style.”

“Do you have any pictures?” Rosa asked eagerly.

“No, not from around then,” Kensi said with a hint of regret. “But I’m sure Roberta does.”

“That is absolutely not necessary,” Deeks said, taking a long drink from his cup. He shook his head. “I can’t believe I forgot I met you before.”

“Well, it was only for a few minutes, and we never exchanged names.” She leaned over and smoothed a tiny speck of hot sauce off his cheek, kissing the corner of his mouth. “The fact that you took the time to help out a lost teenager just further proves what a good guy you’ve always been.”

“It’s almost like it was meant to be,” Rosa mused with a dreamy smile. “Fate.”

“I can work with that,” Deeks said, tipping Kensi’s chin to kiss her in earnest.

[u5an5]

Jacobs' Journal: Tape #7 - Regrets

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.

[START LOG]

Jacobs: Personal log.

Jacobs: ...I hate this time of year. You think with all the horrific acts we do, the monsters we house, that would make any rational mind question the mere existence of God- at least, one of them...

Jacobs: <disgusted> There wouldn't be so much bloody cheer in the air. The smiling and well-wishes are insufferable. Half the bloody staff should be locked up in here!

Jacobs: *whispering* Sickening.

[Rest bellow the cut]

Jacobs: Luckily, *putting down a glass filled with ice, then pouring something into it while he's talking* they're either all on holiday or asleep. Only me and good friend Jack to keep me company.

Jacobs: <monotonously> Jack understands. We like Jack. … (gulp) Ah... He too appreciates the silence and isolation. Doesn't mindlessly wish me a Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukkah like he's the bastion of good memories. Jack makes me numb. (longer gulp) He helps me forget.

Jacobs: December is just any other month to him... and treats me the same. He doesn't pretend to be tolerant for some predetermined date, <voice gradualy louder, growing agitated> doesn't front me with some blissfully ignorant personality, blind that the world exists along with all the problems that come with it, <much louder> he shuts up and. Keeps! Working! <shouting> Why the hell is that so hard for other people to understand?!! *throws the doors of a cabinet closed*

Jacobs: ... (gulp) …… (quiet exhale)

Jacobs: <much calmer> Doesn't bother me *puts down the glass* I was born unto addicts *pours more into glass* so desperate for a hit, they tried to pawn me off like a cheap lamp. *pick ups the glass* Being taken in *starts to swirl the glass* by pair of loveless chauvinists who couldn't care as much about my mental health as the stipends that funded their lavish lifestyles, (sip) leaving the rest of the children to hurt me from the inside-out.

Jacobs: No, those memories don't bring me pain. They don't bring me pleasure, but at least I knew I could escape from them. (gulp)

Jacobs: (sigh) Someday,... I'd move away somewhere they could never find me, and none of it would matter. No more systematic abuse from a family of egomaniacs, no more religious summer camps where the volunteers and inadvertently numbed me to pain. (mirthless chuckle)

Jacobs: Copulation was never an interest of mine. I don't hate it because of what they did, but I won't thank them for the nightmares either. (long sip) So, when I could leave, I did. Cut off my old life. Never looked back. Every time one of these BS holidays rolled around, I just shut off the world's best I could.

Jacobs: Except one year when I was invited to a party off campus. I was studying Law, wanted a major in the International sector. <muffeled due him talking while holding the glass right next to his lips> Back when I still thought I could make a difference. (gulp) Few people from my class said I should come along and have some fun, since I always seem so angry all the time.

Jacobs: I wasn't angry: I was focused. But... I figured, why not? (sip) Semester was over, might be a good distraction for my hollow personal life, living from paycheck to paycheck. So I went... and it started out well... Then I felt the alcohol hit me. Except it was more than that. (gulp) But before I could do anything, I was already slipping out of consciousness. When I woke up, I was in an alleyway, robbed blind, and far away from home.

Jacobs: They even took my shoes (long sip) I was late for my job, got fired, couldn't pay rent. Cops told me they didn't have enough to charge anyone on, wouldn't be able to take them to court if they did... and so I found myself so disillusioned by this whole "life" thing and dropped out. Not that I could afford to stay and finish my degrees anyway.

Jacobs: ... I did what anyone who no longer values that life and feels nothing eternally would do: I joined the army. (sip) I managed to find something there that I hadn't elsewhere: a job I'm actually good at. I rose in the ranks, got myself noticed, and more importantly, had a knack for survival. That's when a branch of the CIA picked me up as a field agent. I was also being scoped out by the Foundation as a potential insurgent. Didn't know, didn't really care.

Jacobs: All I wanted was to die, on my own terms, and with as much of a fight as possible. (sip) It's just my nature. (longer sip) Somehow, I made friends during this time. Some were buddies in the field, others were part of my taskforce. Trusting them with my life, and having it saved in some tight spots, made me actually appreciate their existence... as well as my own. (sip) Lasted all of two years.

Jacobs: I was captured during one of my assignments to stifle the operations of an arms smuggler in Costa Rica, run by a recluse known only as the Viscount. They tortured me for information, fractured my bones, took a few teeth, fingernails. (sip) They didn't understand. I was already broken. I had nothing to say to them, especially once they told me exactly who sold me out.

Jacobs: You don't- really have friends in this world. Just people who take a little longer backstabbing you than others. I suppose they thought it would... demoralise me knowing who they were, <gleefully> but it just strengthened my beliefs. <muffled by glass> I was ready to die. (gulp)

Jacobs: *voice starts to slurr slightly, alcohol catching on* They stuck me... in this tiny dirt hole with another captive, a woman called Marta. She'd been a farmer most of life, and we've been leading a caravan of supplies to the city when they were attacked. As far as she knew, Marta had been the only survivor.

Jacobs: At first, I was standoffish. Every advance she made to communicate, I shrugged off. I didn't need more liabilities, I was getting what I wanted. What I deserved. (sip)

Jacobs: <voice slightly more slurring> After a bout of electroshock torture, I very nearly did die. The light took over my vision and my body felt cold. Should have made me afraid, but in all honesty, I was ready.

Jacobs: Didn't expect to wake up back in the hole, being nursed back to health by the one person I'd shunned for trying to make a connection. As I lay there in her lap, the warmth returning to me, my vision clearing, I actually felt a calmness wash over me. For the first time, someone was caring for me. (deep breath) It only exposure to a selfless act, *puts the glass down* and I was humbled by it.

Jacobs: Marta and I exchanged our stories, and talked about what we do if we had ever make back home. I... (sigh) didn't contribute much to that part of the conversation, but Marta had a brother she'd long hope to reunite with on the other side. It made me smile hearing how passionate she was to see him again, but there was another reason why she wanted to get out of South America.

Jacobs: Marta needed treatment for a condition that creates blood clots in the body. Get one in the wrong place, and you suffer a slow and painful death. Get one in even worse place, and it's quick and painful instead. The meds were becoming more and more difficult to c- to come by, and she'd spent weeks without a dosage. We hatched a rudimentary escape plan with low level success. We didn't think we'd make it to the outside of the camp, but at least we'd died trying.

Jacobs: However, as it turns out, we were wrong. *picks up the glass* A rival leader decided to put an end to the Viscount's business, and attacked his hideout. (sip) We manadged to escape in the chaos and begin our journey north. Dense jungle all around, we trudged onwards, trying to imagine what it would be like once we finally crossed the border checkpoint. I'd try to use my connections to ensure Marta get in, she did save the US Secret Service agent after all. Most people'd get medals, especially civvies like her... <quieter> She deserved a hero's welcome. (big gulp)

Jacobs: Two days in, I woke up to her screaming in the middle of the night. I thought we were being attacked... but when I saw her, I knew she was dead. Her leg had swollen around the thigh... and was burning red. She gripped her calf with both hands and... rocked back and forth. The clot had already begun his work. (dry swallow) Marta needed access to blood thinners as soon as possible, but the nearest "safe" settlement was at least another four days walk from here.

Jacobs: She urged me to leave her behind. *pours more into glass* (gulp) At first, I made do trying to keep her supported on my shoulder. But as the hours continued, the pain only got worse. Even bending her foots sent spikes of pain through her body. I carried her through the jungle as best I could, taking my time over rough terrain. (sigh) I couldn't afford to drop out.

Jacobs: <speech gets slower and more slured> I ignored my own exhaustion, trudging onwards. At first I tried to assuage Marta's cries and moans, but... I ran out of words encouragement, saving my energy for reaching safety. Maybe if I blocked out the agony and hopelessness, I would break through the next tree line, mount that next ridge and I'd see civilization just a little further beyond. ... But then I caught sight of her leg, now a dark, venomous purple.

Jacobs: ...

Jacobs: <speech gets even slower and more slured with each sentence, starts to stutter on and make pauses between words> Marta gone quiet, and I hadn't even noticed. I collapsed with her in my arms and pleaded with her to not give up. Maybe it wasn't with her. Maybe it was with the illness, or whatever force was stealing her from this world. She couldn't speak..., choking on her own gasps.... It was the most pitiful sight I'd ever seen. ... Of all the people that could have happened to,... why couldn't it be the enemy? (big gulp) <voice shaky> Why did it have to be a friend?

Jacobs: I gave her a hug... (mirthless huff) it was all I knew to do. I felt her breathing slow,... her heart fade,... and then ... nothing.

Jacobs: ... (deep breath) ……. (big gulp)

Jacobs: It only took me three more hours to reach the nearest town. (barely audible sniff) I felt a pang of self-loathing with every step I took from then on towards the U.S. I bunked with thieves, the homeless refugees and finally arrived at the border. Half my fractures had healed, and I and a half dozen infections across my body.

Jacobs: I also found out that the moment I broke through those trees, over a week before having just left Marta's body behind in the underbrush. Had been Christmas Eve. ... *takes few quick breaths during pause* (sniff) *roughly swallows then takes quick gulp*

Jacobs: (sniff) That's when I was approached by the Foundation. Mentally, I was back at square one: (rough swallow) exactly the same place post-college me. Of course I was going to drop everything to be a part of whatever this "excellent yet dangerous opportunity" would be... But I had to do one thing.

Jacobs: I told Martha's brother about his sister's last days. Everything we'd been through, everything she... suffered. We talked the whole afternoon about how he fell deep inside. We cried, we laughed,... we sat in silence more than once. But it never felt awkward. He reminded me so much of her. It's the last time I've ever... <astonished> talked. Just talked, with someone like a proper human being. *puts the glass down*

Jacobs: <speech gets even slower and more slured with pause between each word> The rest as they say is history. I supposed, for Marta's brother at least, I was able to bring him the gift of closure. <louder> A little late, but... <back to normal volume> better than ever.

Jacobs: <gets quieter> ...I don't just find it difficult to trust people because they have betrayed me,... but because those I do trust often get hurt...

Jacobs: And here I am... having to force myself to trust... someone else.

Jacobs: *pours more* Marta... here's to you. Happy holidays. (long gulp)

Jacobs: …

[END LOG]

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[spesphire]

( tragedy)

It was nothing more than a dream.

But something felt so vividly real, it was hard to forget. Him holding me oh so tightly and saying, “you sure you want this? There is no turning back. Promise me you want this and you want me. Promise me you won’t let go and love me through my worse.” I didn’t let him go. I kept holding him tightly without any regrets. And then we kissed. I woke up to my bittersweet dream. In a dream where we were having conversations about stuff. Me knowing I fell for him first, but he fell harder. Oh wow, such a quirky drama that dream was. I woke up with a nauseating feeling. My roommate was awake the whole night studying. I feel fell asleep because I felt tired and, well, suicidal. SHE DIDN’T SLEEP THE WHOLE NIGHT AND I DIDN’T STUDY THAT WELL! My food had gone bad. Which I was technically saving up till December. I got seemingly bad grades in math test. Nothing is going in my way, so how the freak am I supposed to calm down and study. It’s a war in my head. It’s all too much for me. I failed my bio test and I told my parents for the third time I want to kill myself. I’m a God Awful daughter. Oh, yeah, I have the busiest lab of the semester today and a chem midterm tomorrow. Don’t know how that’ll go. 

Oh yeah, the labs. Where they expect me to know everything and where this bitch owing my name ends up putting me in disadvantages.

Oh life, my life.

Everything would be so much better if I killed myself. No money for my parents to spend, no uncertain future, no crying till you feel numb enough to fall asleep, no midterms, no being a disappointment and oh my what life.

I feel sick. Like my heart's about to burst out if I don’t do something with it. No one to heal me. Well, even if they do heal me, it just doesn’t do anything. Sometimes it’s best to lie about my miserable state. Lie that I’m fine and I can do this. A lie that I tell myself and my family pretty often. It hurts. Everything hurts. Like how having a crush hurts. Hurts to know that no one, including that silly crush, will ever love me like that.

Hurts to be all alone, even though my favorite people say you aren’t alone.

Well, I was born alone and most probably die alone. I want to ask for help, but I can’t. Even when I get the help, it ends up being a blob of nothing.

Sorry for this rant. Thought I was going to write a fictional book based on my dream but look what it leads to.

My roommate is like 5 years younger than me and achieving more than me. 

I mean, I wouldn’t feel bad about it, but it’s my mother who makes sure I don’t feel great about it. Something about success means so much to her. To the point, I see ‘successes’ as a successful elder sister my mom loves the most. And I’m abandoned and constantly compared with her.

My mother is a whole different character to study. Sometimes I see her as the good witch. Even if she’s good, she is still a witch. Manipulation, base-minded, offensive, abused, unhappy for the good days ‘cause there’s no point of it and lastly psychotic in nature (sometimes).

Maybe that’s just every mother.

Or maybe, just perhaps, it’s only my mother.

The pages of feels is about to end. I must go back to my studying. My excuses are too much, but they are still invalid somehow.

Saying that everyone feels the same. It’s really normal.

I remember how bluntly the student advisor told me to drop my course that day. How bluntly she said, “it’s all over for you, try again next time.” Well, she didn’t say these exact words, but that was the summary of it. Huh, guess that’s what happens when you pressure the girl to become what she doesn’t want to become. A microbiologist. In my dreams, possibly.

The thing is, I don’t hate studying. I freaking love studying and doing homework. But the exams and evaluation is where I fuck up. Very badly, actually. I’m a girl who doesn’t want to taste defeat but gets defeated every time.

It’s just the beginning, and I’m really not sure how can I go on.

Along with my thoughts to end it all is scary enough. 

Hey.

I just want to live with a peaceful mind. I just want to function and do my studies like a normal freaking person. Making my parents proud seems good enough.

[zippers]

i know im set to graduate in may and all but like.... i am so close to getting a history major and like history has always been my passion and i am both so sad and so pissed at myself for pursuing classics over history when i knew from the beginning that i dont actually enjoy classics/latin that much (compared to history). and if i take an "extra" semester i could do a triple major. especially because i love prof lucas and am soooo bummed that i didnt get to take more classes with him.

[seungly]

Hiii!

I literally found your page last night and may or may not have stayed up until 2am because I was reading your work and omg it’s so so good 😍, like I’m addicted!

If it’s possible can I request a Lee Felix imagine, in which him and the reader haven’t seen each other in like a week because the reader has been stressed with uni and essays and when they see each other the reader just casually mentions that they haven’t eaten as well as they should sort of like “I haven’t eaten in -“ and stops dead in their tracks because they know they’re gonna get told off and Felix glares at them and is just like “go on” but like it’s really fluffy in the end?

I’m really sorry if that’s confusing or you can’t write it!

Thank youu 🥰

2am?! hahaha thank you so muuchh!! I hope you won’t change your mind after reading this hehe I hope you like it!!

pairing: Lee Felix x gn! reader

genre: fluff, angst if you squint

wc: 1.5k 

warnings: stress, lack of eating, mentions of food

notes: my readers really need to take care of themselves huh. Pleasee don’t forget to eat, sleep, and take breaks, especially during a rough time. I hope everyone will do well! take care, Stays <33

proofread

: ̗̀➛ © seungly 2022

-

Essays can be fun sometimes, especially when writing about a topic you’re really interested in but right now there’s nothing more you’d want to do than to jump off your 3rd-floor apartment. You were stacked with unfinished essays that were due by next week, and you had more unfinished work. You were basically living off of coffee and 20 minutes of nap time. The last time you had a full meal was Tuesday afternoon. You were sure to fail this semester unless some god-sent freckled angel drops by this weekend. 

Though in this case, there will.

You were sure to rest tomorrow since your boyfriend is coming to visit, but today isn’t tomorrow so you have to continue faceplanted on the screen of your laptop.

You open your eyes to the sound of your phone ringing somewhere on the couch. You groaned, sitting up from the floor you’ve fallen asleep on- god it was uncomfortable. You wipe the drool from the side of your mouth and almost as if an instinct, you swipe the half-empty coffee cup from the coffee table and take a sip. Quickly regretting your decision, you brush it away and continue to look for your phone, “ha!” you grab the phone from under a throw pillow and smiled smugly to yourself. 

You opened your phone to check who called and sure enough, it was your boyfriend with a whopping 14 missed calls and over 20 texts. You were sure to get scolded later. You decided that you had enough of typing so you decided to call him instead. Not even five seconds when you heard his voice, “I was worried! Why weren’t you answering your calls??!!” he sounded panicked.

“I just woke up, Lix.” you check the time and almost choked on nothing when you saw it was almost lunch.

“Alright.” he sighed, “Well, I’m almost there. Do you need anything?” you could hear the excitement in his voice.

“Just you, please!” you let out a little laugh. 

“Coming right up!” he joked as well, “I need to go, it’s almost to a green light. See you there!” he made sure to kiss you through the phone before ending the call.

After the call ended you place your phone down and let out a sigh. You needed more sleep, but you tell yourself that it can wait a little longer. You try to stand up and successfully do so, but the condition of your living room was not a sight to see. Your notes were scattered, bag tossed in the corner, the blanket you were looking for was draped over one of the armchairs, there were at least 3 cups of coffee on the table, all probably reused to get more. You wanted to fix up a little before he arrives, so soon enough the cups were placed in the sink, the paper cups discarded in the trash, and your armchair and sofa organized.

You bent down to fix the scattered notes but were only able to stack it a quarter through when someone knocked on your door. You quickly stood up—which was a mistake. You ended up falling on the sofa at the sudden movement. Nonetheless, you waste no time checking who it was, opening it as fast as a person who hasn’t eaten well in a week could, ”Felix!” you wrap your arms around him.

Felix supports your frame by wrapping his arm around your waist and steadying the both of you, “Hello to you too!” he laughed though he noticed you got much lighter which sent him to worry, “I bought us food.”

You invite him in, mumbling an apology for the mess, “but here uhm, I’ll just change my clothes while you fix the food on the table. I’ll be quick!” you run to your bedroom once you close the door behind him. You hear him laugh and mumble something, but you were already too far to hear.

Felix places the bags of food down on the small table, unpacking them neatly. When he was going to get water from the kitchen, he saw the unwashed dishes on the sink and decided to wash them for you as well, since there wasn’t much anyway. After washing he notices the scattered papers on your floor. He grabs one to take a look and places them all in the stack, “You’re still not done changing?” he calls out. You respond by opening the bedroom door and walking out in new clothes.

Felix smiles, you look nice wearing the loose green shirt he gave you and your favorite white loose shorts. It was a simple casual fit you’d always wear at home but he found it endearing—because it was you; simple, beautiful, love of his life, you.

“Alright! Let’s eat.” you smile at him, walking past him after placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, “What did you buy?” you sit on a chair.

Felix followed, sitting on the opposite side, “Chicken and some rice.” he waits for you to take a bite before he does.

When you took a bite did you only realize how hungry you were. You were practically starving because of the overwhelming stress from activities and work they’d give you. You eat a spoonful of the food, and another, then another, “This is so good! I—god, I haven’t eaten in li-” your words come to a halt when you finally realize. You were too lost in the savory of the chicken that you manage to out yourself. Felix was always reminding you to eat and sleep. Never missing a day to check up on you. Now he knows you lied. 

You slowly raise your head to face Felix, an anxious smile on your face. Felix had his utensils placed down. He leans back on his chair, eyes never leaving you as he crosses his arms, “Why’d you stop talking?” he raises an eyebrow at you, motioning his head for you to continue talking, “Well? go on.”

“Listen, I didn’t mean to. I just- I didn’t...I mean, I mean it just left my mind.” all the while you explain yourself, Felix remains silent, frowning at you, “I ate some snacks in between during my breaks.”

“Snacks are not enough to fill your stomach. You need to eat properly, especially when you’re not even sleeping right.” you understood why he was like this. He’s always concerned for your health since you always get carried away and you forget to take care of yourself, “You said you were eating right. You said you were okay and you’re taking care of yourself. You promised. That’s why I didn’t come to check on you personally even though I really wanted to.” his tone became more sad than angry, and it broke your heart.

You made him sad, “I’m sorry, Lix.” you get up from your chair and walk over to his side, “I’ll take better care of myself okay? I promise.” you sit on the chair beside him, taking his hand in yours.

“I don’t want you to become sick. You sure this is just because of uni?” he turns to look you in the eyes. You nodded with no hesitation, “If I have to drive here every day just to make sure you’re doing well, I will.”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to do that. I swear this is just because of uni. I’ll take care of myself more. I’m sorry.” you lean your head on his shoulder.

“I just want to be with you for a very long time.” his lips curve into a smile, “So please do take care.” he drapes an arm over your shoulder and presses a kiss on your head, “and because I’m madly in love with you, I’ll let you off with a warning.” he lets out a laugh which made you smile.

“I’ll eat beside you instead.” you stand up and lean over to get your food so you can eat beside Felix, “Thank you for always taking care of me.” you give his cheek a kiss once more.

“It doesn’t come free, you know?” you look at him puzzled, “I accept kisses and hugs.” he gives you a close-eyed smile making your heartbeat 10x faster.

“I’ll be sure to pay you then!” you giggle.

“Pay me now.” he pouts. You roll your eyes at him before taking his face in your palm, tilting it towards you as you carefully lean closer to him. Your lips almost meet his when you playfully blow on his face instead, ”Y/N!” he decided to take matters into his own hands and snake his hand to your nape to pull you to him. Your lips curve into a little smile as he kisses you softly.

You were the first to pull away, “The food will get cold, Lix.”

“I can always buy another one.” he shrugs, pulling you into another kiss.

You pull away again, “I’m hungry.” you laugh. 

Felix sighs in defeat but still smiles, “Eat up then. If you’re still hungry I’ll order us more food.” he pats your head before tenderly running his fingers through your hair, “and then I’ll help you with some of your work hm?” you nod at his words, smiling at him. 

Felix had always held the stars in his eyes. You couldn’t help but get lost in them. It held such sincerity and admiration. Sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder how could someone so lovely and genuine love you so much.

-

note: I hope I was able to reach your expectation hehe. Feedback is appreciated!! <33

[earlgreydream]

another minute.

| James potter x reader | fluff | smut |

subby james, because I can’t get enough

Your book rested against one bent knee, propped up so you could view the white pages. The story sucked you in, consuming hours of your time, making you forget you were lounged on James’ bed, instead of lost in a mythical world. Worlds of ethereal angels sucked you into a far-away reality, creating visions in your mind that distracted you from the looming anxiety of O.W.L.S. and James’ stress.

You were broken out of your trance when the door opened, the exhausted boy returning from quidditch practice. You frowned when you noticed how defeated his expression was, exhaustion making him weary. Your boyfriend rarely looked sullen, and the sight made you sad.

“James, how was it, love?” you dared to ask.

“It was a total shitshow.”

His voice had a distinct whine to it, alerting you of his disappointment and neediness. You sighed, reaching out your hand, squeezing his, deciding to let his profanity slide instead of scolding him. 

“Go shower, James, and I’ll help make it up to you,” you instructed softly, knowing what James wanted from you.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered softly, disappearing into the bathroom.

You listened to the water run, setting your novel aside. You stripped down while you waited for him, residing yourself to lie naked on the bed. 

.

James was beyond frustrated with how the practice had gone. Tournaments were coming up, and Gryffindor was nowhere near prepared to beat Slytherin in the championship. He’d spent the entire semester coaching the team, but they weren’t as good as the cunning house, and the frustration was wearing on James.

He was tired of being in control, being responsible and ordering around the other students. It exhausted him, and all he wanted was to melt into a submissive headspace around you, and let you take care of him. You loved to do it, you adored your sweet, mostly well-behaved, subby boyfriend. 

James let the hot water and soap wash away the dirt, rain, and sweat, leaving him clean for you. He spent a little too long in the shower, enjoying the water until it ran cold. He appreciated your patience, thankful he wasn’t being rushed. 

When he walked out of the bathroom, he immediately started to harden at the sight of your nude form stretched out on crimson sheets. You looked divine, and he stood and stared at you for a moment, taking in the sight.

.

You smiled, running your fingers up his warm torso as he walked over to you. The towel fell from his waist, and he knelt over you on the bed.

“What do you need, my love?” You brushed black hair from his face, and he leaned into your touch. You gently tilted his face up, thick, dark lashes parting to reveal emerald green eyes.

“Need you,” he whined, sinking down to lay between your legs.

“You can have whatever you want,” you promised, willing to give the gorgeous boy anything.

A muscular arm hooked under your waist, and his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sending a shudder through you. You allowed yourself to relax, dripping onto the sheets as his tongue swirled around the sensitive peak, sucking on it while his fingers toyed with the other.

James encouraged a sigh from you, gazing up with gentle green eyes. Your fingers combed through his hair, feeling the soft locks under your touch.

He rutted onto the bed innocently, and you wondered why he didn’t fuck you, only focusing on your chest. You were beginning to ache with need, and if he wasn’t going to fill you, you wanted to be eaten out.

“Jamesie, love, why don’t you touch my pussy?” You asked, your voice coming out in a slightly higher pitch.

“Wanna play with your tits,” James whined, smearing his lips over your skin as he spoke.

“I know, baby, but I need to be touched properly. Please, can you be sweet for me?” You pleaded, starting to regret your promise to let him do whatever he wanted.

Above all, James wanted to please you, and be your sweet boy. A small sigh escaped his lips, and he pried himself from your chest.

“Okay,” he relented, pecking your lips before sitting back on his heels.

He let himself admire you for a moment, your skin flushed from teasing, and the puffy red area between your legs glistening. He bit back a smile, amused by how aroused you got from having your tits played with, even though you complained.

“Will you ride me?”

You almost missed the question. James’ voice was so low and soft, it barely registered. You didn’t understand how he could possibly be shy, asking, but he still somehow surprised you.

You sat up and James grinned, falling onto his back on the red sheets, his waves fanning around his head in a dark halo. He was ethereal, with his warm, tanned skin, and bright eyes.

You moved to straddle his lap, kneeling over your boyfriend. James’ hands came to your hips, helping to guide your movements and take some of the pressure.

Your hand reached below you, gently wrapping around him. You jerked him off a couple times, preparing to ride him. James watched you silently as you sank down, his cock disappearing inside of you. Your eyes squeezed shut and one hand reached out to grab the headboard for balance.

“James, fuck!” You moaned as your hips met his, entirely filled with him.

Your head dropped forward, both hands gripping the oak headboard. James leaned up slightly, pulling your nipple into his mouth while you were bent over him. A cry left your lips from the stimulation, and you rolled your hips, beginning to build a rhythm of fucking yourself on James.

He was heavy and thick, enough to make you feel as though you were being split open every time your hips came down on his. The burn was delicious, spreading heat through your abdomen and slowly building pressure.

James loved the way you felt around him. You were so tight and warm, enveloping him and shocking him by how deep you could take it. He loved the way your tiny veins strained as you gripped the headboard, your face scrunched up in pleasure.

He snapped his hips up into yours, forcing himself against your cervix. A scream tumbled from your lips, your clit grinding against his pubic bone. The stimulation sent you over the edge, orgasming violently.

Your hands came down to his chest as you struggled to hold yourself up, hot fire burning through your veins as you pulsed around him. James pulled you down fully, spilling into you as he came. You squealed at the sensation, gripping his shoulders as the thick, white liquid leaked out of you.

“Oh my god, James,” you breathed, throwing your head back as he throbbed inside of you, continuing to paint your cunt with white ribbons.

He was loud. Moans fell from James’ gorgeous, full lips as he fucked up into you, drawing out both of your orgasms until you were so weak you nearly collapsed on him.

He caught you, arms snaking around your waist to hold you against his chest. James rested his chin on top of your head, letting you bury your face in his neck. Fingertips skimmed up and down your back, tracing delicate shapes on your skin.

You relaxed, not caring about the mess, settling down with him still sheathed inside of you. He hummed softly, soothing you with a familiar melody.

You pressed tiny kisses to his throat, making the boy smile.

“You trying to rile me, honey?” James teased, nudging your head.

“No, just loving on you.”

His heart softened, and he kissed the top of your head, tightening his arm around you.

“We gotta clean up soon.”

“I know, but let me have another minute.”

James obliged your wishes, never objecting to being warmed by you. When you began to squirm, he decided it was time to clean up, his hands going under your legs.

An apology was whispered as he eased out of you, earning a pathetic whimper. You felt raw and sleepy, and you detested the feeling of James pulling out and leaving you empty. He tilted your chin up, delivering a kiss to your lips, trying to distract you.

He waved his wand, cleaning you both— and the sheets. Your arms draped over his back as you were carried to a shower, hot water pouring over the two of you.

James carefully set you down, making sure you were steady on your feet. You gently pushed his shoulder, smiling as James knelt in front of you.

His forehead rested against your thigh as you massaged shampoo through his hair. He didn’t mind showering a second time, cherishing the intimacy with you. All the tension he held dissipated, relaxing as you showered together.

He washed your body gently, minding the tender areas. You giggled as he murmured a spell, making the bubbles change colors.

.

“Thank you,” James said, snuggled beside you in bed.

“For what?” You looked up, meeting a gentle emerald gaze.

“For helping me cheer up,” he answered, brushing his fingers over your cheek. Your face broke into a smile, leaning back into his chest.

You pulled your knees up, curling tighter into a ball against him.

“I’m happy to. I’m sorry that your day was hard, though.”

“You more than made up for it. I’m so lucky to be yours,” he kissed your cheek, earning a grin. You reached up, tangling your fingers into his hair.

“I’m the lucky one.”

He laughed and pulled you onto his lap, squeezing you and littering kisses all over your face.

[yoonpobs]

Unmm request: it's always jk whos fucking around so....... how about we make a difference... fuckgirl!yn x shy!jk 👀👀 thank u in advance!!! ❤️

NOW ... the tables have most definitely turned ... if bbgt oc and jk switched lives but tbh oc here is still devilishly sweet so >:) i saw this ask and was like TIME TO BRING CHAOS

pairing: shy!jk x fuckgirl!oc

genre: SMUT

warnings: cock worship, oc calls jk pretty, slobber 

words: 1, 648

Jungkook’s done a lot of impulsive things in his life. Like the one time, he bought five hundred dollars worth of in-game money purely because he was running on red bull and pulled two consecutive all-nighters for a game tournament Taehyung roped him into, or maybe even switching up his major because it didn’t feel interesting to him anymore; Jungkook’s an impulsive person.

But he’d like to think that he was reasonably impulsive, acting on his human nature rather than out of it. Though, right now he can’t say he believes himself either.

“How does it feel?” You coo, voice like a sin when you lean forward and Jungkook can’t look anywhere but at your tits. He wants to look up but then he’ll see your face and that’s no better for his muddled mind.

“G-Good,” He croaks, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head when he feels the slow drag of your pussy across his cock.

God, he’s never been so hard in his entire life. Not even in his secret masturbation sessions when he was forced to room with Taehyung in the first semester of college and had to listen to him and his girlfriend fuck until the wee hours of the morning. Because you were sin personified, all his desires manifested into a human being and staring him right in the face; awaiting him to pathetically give in.

“Just good?” you pout teasingly. Your hand reaches back to cup his balls in your palm and they’re hot and heavy when you squeeze, evoking a tight groan from Jungkook’s chest. He was so sweaty, chest heaving as he attempts to clear his head. He wasn’t even in your pussy yet and yet he feels himself on the brink of release. “That’s not right. Want it to be great,” You smile, and Jungkook swears he sees the devil horns appear by your head.

“F-Fuck—it’s—great,” Jungkook literally whines, hips bucking up to meet your hands as they squeeze his balls in tandem with the way you grind against his cock. He can feel each firm and slow drag of your cunt, the wetness that seeps through your folds leak out of your hole and wholly glazes his cock. His mind is fuzzy and he can only think of how hot and wet you’d feel.

You grind faster like a woman on a mission and all Jungkook can do is moan breathily, hands shakily gripping your hips tightly; so tempted to slip into your hot cavern.

Jungkook never even dared to dream about having you this way. He’s heard about you, of course, he had. You were the girl everyone wanted to be with or be. He’s heard stories about how your pussy was magical, and how you were the devil reincarnate; that every person who had the liberty of coming across you only drowned in your essence and got hooked onto the feeling of euphoria when you sent them over the edge.

You were perfect, in Jungkook’s eyes. You were so pretty and he wanted to call you a bitch but you weren’t even mean. You were so nice, so crazily good with your hips that his judgment may have been a little clouded. He didn’t expect the night to end this way, with your sex-crazed eyes peering down at him—and only for him to see at this moment.

“You’re so pretty, do you know that?” you hum, raking your other hand down his chest to tweak a nipple between your fingertips. He can feel you giggle when you hear him gasp at your gesture.

“N-No,” he exhales a deep breath of air when you lift your hips for him to see the flimsy strings of arousal that connect his cock to your folds. You’re so lewd, especially when you spread your lips to show your swollen pearl, hard and ready for attention.

You crawl over him, and it’s like a predator approaching a prey when your face rests right above his face, “You are. Prettiest boy. So cute. I would’ve never thought a boy like you had a cock so big.” To emphasise your point, your hand wraps around his length, squeezing hard enough in a way that Jungkook loves, and it only proves his point that you’re an absolute goddess.

“Fuck.” His eyes squeeze shut when you speed up your hands, and he wished he could see the way you were staring at him with a mischievous smirk.

“Faster? Harder?” you tease.

“Yes—no—wait, f-fuck, please,” Jungkook doesn’t even know what he’s pleading for but he feels his stomach clench rhythmically as his high approaches. When he opens his eyes, he almost regrets it because you’re so close and your hair is brushing against the peaks of his nipple. Your lips are swollen from the previous make-out session he was subjected to and he misses your mouth just by being reminded of it.

“So pretty,” you croon, pressing a kiss to his lips that’s so much softer compared to the way that your hands work aggressively on his cock, “So dirty.” You purr, pulling away with a smack of your lips.

He shakes his head, whining, “N-Not dirty,” Though he knows it’s a lie because he lets you have your way with him, completely at mercy by your hands.

You giggle, light and evil that Jungkook feels his cock throb even harder in your hand. You were a dream and there was no way that you were real,

“But you are,” you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, releasing it with a pop before you trail downwards, mouth hot on his skin until you reach his cock. His cock twitches in your hand in interest, especially when you allow a dollop of saliva to drop onto the tip, coating his length as he groans at the visual when he allows himself to look. “Only dirty boys let girls like me do this to them.” You sigh dreamily.

Jungkook’s mind is a mess of muddled thoughts that he can’t even muster a response, especially when you take his cock into the back of your throat like a pro, slobbering spit all over it without a care of how lewd it looks or sounds. In fact, Jungkook thanks the heavens above because he’s seconds away from cumming down your throat.

“I-I’m cumming—” he chokes.

You stare up at him with those bedroom eyes and Jungkook feels dizzy, his hand reaches to the back of your head as you bob your head faster around his cock, deepthroating him all the way until all he feels is the depth of your hot throat.

The visual and the auditory aspects of your slobber are what sends Jungkook over the edge. He cums with a loud moan, hips bucking up manically until he practically shoves his cock as far as he can down your throat. He doesn’t know where to look but he catches sight of the tears that threaten to spill out of your eyes and the spit that accumulates at the side of your mouth.

He cums so much and you take it all, mouth welcoming every spurt of his hot seed and Jungkook feels like he’s on cloud nine. Your tongue teases his slit to oversensitivity, and he winces at the way you continuously lap through his release, never relenting even when he whines and your eager mouth away from his flattening cock.

As Jungkook regains his breath as he blinks up at the ceiling, his head clearing up from his horny daze, his eyes droop to see your face and you do the next most obscene thing that has his flaccid cock jumping in interest.

You open your mouth to show him the cum he’s released, and swallow, making a show to moan.

Jungkook stares at you in awe, and he’s about to offer to reciprocate even if he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, but you push yourself off his lap and lean down to give him a messy kiss. He can taste himself but he can’t bring himself to care when you just made him cum harder than he’s ever done in his entire life.

“W-What about—?” Jungkook stutters, but you only shoot him a smile he’s sure gotten you out of trouble enough times.

“It’s okay. I liked sucking your cock,” you reach a hand down in between your legs, swirling your clit for good measure as your thighs twitch and Jungkook can only watch with a gaping mouth. You collect your essence with your fingers and spread the digits to show your strings of arousal, all before you bring it up to his lips, “Open wide, pretty boy.”

And all Jungkook can do is obey, sucking in your fingers as he whines at the heady taste of your pussy.

When you pull away and your body heat leaves him, Jungkook only then manages to shakily sit up; noticing the way you’re quick to slip on your panties and the clothes that were thrown in a haze.

He’s completely bare while you’re already picking up the last of your things as he stares at you with wide eyes. But his mind is still in his post-orgasm stupor when he hesitantly asks with reddened cheeks and a shy voice.

“C-Can I … c-can I get your number?” he asks as he attempts to hold eye contact with you.

You’re sweet and evil all at once, and you give him a flirty smile with a light giggle before you glance into the mirror as you use your thumb to fix the edges of your lipstick that was smeared all across your face.

“Ask around,” you wink at him, “Pretty sure Taehyung has it.”

Then you leave, and Jungkook’s face drops just a little. But God, were you perfect.

[crimsonwolfie]

A Love Like In The Movies - Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Prompt: You (the reader) have had a crush on Stiles, your best friend, since forever. Only...he likes the popular girl, Lydia...or so you thought.

Warnings: tinges of sadness, loneliness and a hint of heartbreak...but a ton of fluff :)

Word count: 3,071

masterlist

You tug at your bag, shoving about 3 books in at once in an attempt to be out of class as soon as the bell rings. Walking with your head down and hands clasping your bag up, you harshly bump into the new kid Henry, knocking him to the floor along with all his books and your papers....clearly you never remembered why your nickname was ‘Wobbly Whittmore’.

“Oh my gosh, i’m so sorry!” You utter with one hand on your mouth and the other helping him up off the floor. He stares up at you with a dazed look and a small smirk, watching you help scramble up his papers and books.

“It’s chill, don’t worry”

You look up at him with a shy smile, clearly embarrassed for your clumsiness. “It’s not, honestly i’m so sorry. You haven’t even been here for a week and already you’ve been practically beaten up..” you shake your head “that usually happens at least 3 months in” you wink at him, laughing lightly. Henry laughs back whilst collecting more papers from the floor.

As you both sigh, your hands collide briefly. It was just for a moment...but it made you feel something. At first it was shock, but then something you’ve wanted to feel for so long...just with someone else...Stiles. Henry’s eyes dart up at you, his cheeks heating up slightly.

“I...sorry i should get going” he quickly adverts his gaze and gets up, picking up what’s in his hands “how many people can say they’ve encountered the nice Whittmore in their first week, huh?”

“Oh god you know about my brother already?” you huff, handing him his books “Some friendly advice since you’re obviously a decent guy...stay far away from him.” You laugh, once again feeling embarrassed for being related to...well...Jackson.

“Yeah he has a...well...a reputation so to speak. Thanks again, see you around, Y/N”

“Later Henry!”

Walking through the halls you can’t help but think of Stiles. He’s adorable, cute, beautiful, funny, smart, geeky but in the best way, kind, gentle...the list quite literally goes on forever. But in all the time you’ve known him...he’s always liked Lydia. The girl who your brother used to date. Since they broke up, Stiles has never been so smitten. Sure, she’s gorgeous and actually really nice...but she’s who he likes...she’s not you. I mean, you never know...he could like you. You’ve never actually mentioned it to him. But then if you do, and he turns you down, you’d be crushed... completely!

“Hey Y/N!” Stiles appears from around the corner of the lockers, making you jump a little.

“Jesus Stiles, don’t do that!” You hiss as you hold your hand over your heart. He throws his head back giggling. ‘God how cute he looks when he’s happy’ the little voice in your head says.

“You up for a movie marathon after school? I got your favourites...” he moves closer

“Harry Potter?!” You squeal, clapping your hands together 

“Only the best for the best” he smiles with all teeth showing. You silently fist pump the air as he holds his hand out for you to high five him, which you do. Your hands hover in the air, skin hot to the touch, until he breaks apart and places his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll go and find Scott and ask if he’s in. Knowing him, he’ll want to bring Allison and with Allison comes...”

“Lydia” you sigh

“Yes! She’s just so brilliant, isn’t she?” Stiles hummed, his face cheeky and merry like a child eating ice cream. You tried to hide the hurt with a faint smile, because seeing Stiles so happy just warmed your heart. You didn’t want to be the one to ruin it.

“What’s up Y/N/N?” Stiles’ smile faded into a frown, concern painted across his perfectly honeyed eyes. Seeing this, you can practically feel your heart drop.

You fiddle with the rings on your fingers as your soft Y/H/C hair slips in front of your face. “What? No...nothing. Rough day that’s all-”

“HEY Y/N” You look up to see Henry running towards you with one arm stretched out towards you, the other holding his bag strap. “You left this, when we spoke earlier” he hands you a pile of papers, all with your name on.

“Oh, my god...I’d be totally screwed if I didn’t have this for tomorrow’s math class. I’m so sorry. They must have got mixed up with your papers” you take the papers out of his hand and shove them into your bag, smiling shyly at both boys staring at you. “Thanks Henry, you saved my math grade” you laugh, causing Henry to blush and bite his lip ever so subtly, placing his hand on your arm and squeezing it playfully.

“No worries, Y/N. I’ll see you around” he winks at you, earning a frown from Stiles. 

“Who’s that geezer?” He remarks, his face furrowed with a mix of both dislike and anger. Little did you know, Stiles didn't like seeing other guys flirt with you. He began to feel this deep pit in his stomach, his blood beginning to boil. 

You turn to face Stiles, pushing your hair back behind your ear. Sheepishly you pat him on the shoulder “i’ll see you at 3? Parking lot?”

“Yeah, sure.” He replies hesitantly, fidgeting with the rim of his flannel. You notice something’s got him wound up but decide it’s probably just him nervous to spend time with Lydia and continue to walk down the hall, making your way to health class.

━━━━━━━━

All throughout the rest of your classes for the day, you just felt empty. Nothing but heartbreak, emptiness, loneliness. Thoughts of him and Lydia snuggling up in blankets whilst eating popcorn and watching the movie kept bubbling around your brain. You tried to snap out of it, but nothing would work. You thought about just cancelling on the meet after school, knowing it would be way less painful. ‘They probably wouldn’t even notice I'm gone’ you thought. Your mind was like a prison that you couldn't escape...

“this must have been what Sirius Black felt like for 12 years” you mutter under your breath, not caring who heard. Sounds of faint chattering, pencils scribbling and the monotone voice of Mrs Rawlings can be heard around you, but none of it distracts your train of thoughts. Just begging for some sort of peace, you crash your head into your arms on the table.

“Hey, Y/N” you felt a gentle nudge on your forearm and look up to see Scott staring down at you, his hand on your arm. “What’s up with you dude? And who’s Sirius Black?”

You sigh with an overly dramatic eye roll, unwillingly plucking up enough strength to say once again that you’re ‘fine just a bit tired that’s all’...

“Tired.” is all you can spit out before shoving your head back into your arms. Little did you know, Scott could sense what you were feeling...I mean you didn't lie - he sensed tiredness...just mentally. Along with hurt, pain and loneliness.

“You sure? Well maybe after school you’ll feel better. Say, d’you reckon Allison likes...I don’t know...flowers? I... I was going to get her a bunch before I pick her up to go to Stiles’” You felt your tears drop into your sleeves, soaking both your jumper and your face as Scott continued. “Do girls like flowers? I’d ask Lydia but I'm closer with yo...”

“Yeah flowers whatever.” you mutter without lifting your head up. Scott scrunched his face, his brows furrowing. Usually, you were so much more supportive and excited for him - heck you were even more excited than him when you found out about him and Allison! You guys always told each other everything. ‘Something is definitely going on’ he thought to himself. He decided it was best to not say much more right now since he was already on a report in Mrs Rawlings’ class.

Just as Scott was about to hand you a note in class, the final bell rang. Instantly you popped up and grabbed your books, practically sprinting out of the door. Scott tried to stop you, but was called behind class by the teacher. You knew he was going to follow you, that's why you ran. No matter what, he couldn't see you like this, otherwise he wouldn’t drop it and would demand to know who hurt you - how could you tell him it was his own best friend?! As you’re jogging, you bump into the one person you wanted to avoid...

“Woah, slow down there cowgirl” Stiles holds your shoulders with his hands, his grip firm and comforting. He takes one look at you and notices your wet, blotchy eyes. You hang your head low in an attempt to hide your face from him...clearly it doesn't work.

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s up? Who hurt you?! his smile fades drastically upon seeing the state you were in. Obviously you weren't going to tell him, so you just decide to make up something...

“I failed my health class for the semester”

“Y/N it’s not the end of the world, you can always retake!” he sighs

You turn over to him with your hands in the air, shaking your head. “No you don’t un...you know what, Stiles? I can’t come over later. I’m sorry.” 

He steps back in surprise, both hands leaving your shoulders and grabbing his bag straps around his arms. Suddenly, you feel angry at him...though you instantly regret snapping at him. “i...I’m sorry” is all you can stutter as you run out the door, leaving Stiles standing there wondering what he did wrong, for what felt like hours, until Scott saw him.

“dude what're you doing? We got a marathon to start” he smacks Stiles on the back full pelt, leaving Stiles to stumble a bit.

“Have you spoken to Y/N today?” he asks, his voice trembly, quiet.

“Of course I have. Why, haven’t you?” The alpha replies

“No I have, it’s just...she was upset and i tried to help but she just...” he trails off   as Scott steps closer, Stiles’ eyes dull.

“She just what?” he asks, his voice calm and gentle

“She said she failed health class...”

“Wait, no that's not true - I got pulled behind class today because Mrs Rowlings wants me to have a tutor for health class and suggested Y/N since she’s acing everything!?” Scott explained. Stiles jerked his head, brows furrowing once again.

“Wait what?” his hand flew to his forehead as he leaned against the lockers beside him. “She snapped at me. I think I did something, Scotty...but I don’t know what. She’s been distant for a while now ever since Jackson and Lydia broke up, and I mean I know that her brother hates us but I just didn't think Y/N would choose her brother over us or me and i...”

“Stiles, stop.” Scott grabs both of Stiles’ shoulders and makes direct eye contact with him. “Listen, okay? I think I know what’s up”

“You do?” Stiles’ eyes brightened insantly. He knew something was wrong with his best friend and he knew he would do anything to fix that.

“She likes you, dude. Really likes you. And I thought you would have figured that out by now...she’s always doodling your name in class and covers it whenever someone passes by. Plus, she talks about you all the time.” Scott understood why you had been distant, and he didn’t blame you.

Stiles’s cheeks flushed a bright shade of red as a smile began appearing. His heart started pounding quicker than Quicksilver in the X-Men films, butterflies swarming around his stomach and ribcage. “Seriously? Then why is she distancing herself from me?”

“Because she still thinks you’re in love with Lydia...her heartbeat quickens when she’s with you, or when you guys touch in some way” Scott’s tone becomes more serious, which is unusual for Scott. Typically, he’s always goofy around Stiles so clearly he meant what he was about to say next... “But when you’re with Lydia, her mood changes. I can sense it...It’s sort of sad, lonely...” his face melts just thinking of all the times he’s felt that same pain. “You gotta tell her how you feel, Stiles. Tonight.”

“But I can’t...she’s not coming!” Stiles replies with a croaky voice.

“Then you go to her!” Scott replies, his eyes wide with hope and his hands pressing on Stiles’ back, pushing him towards the door “go now, dude!” Stiles picks up his pace and jogs to the door, one hand gripping his bag strap and the other fiddling with his keys in his pocket. “And let me know how it goes” Scott shouts as Stiles leaves the building.

━━━━━━━━

As you reach your front door, you feel a tear trickle down your cheek. All you could think of was Stiles. How he would, at this moment, be snuggling and giggling with Lydia. You have nothing against her, in fact you are actually really fond of her, but it breaks your heart to know you aren't the one who can make the boy you love, fall for you. A pain runs through your chest as you slam the door shut, your breathing wheezing. Leaning against the door, you slide down...completely breaking down.

“Why doesn’t he look at me that way?” you mutter to yourself, head in arms as your cheeks soak into your sleeves. “All I've ever done is try and make him happy, try and make him realise how incredible he is...and he still doesn't see me the same way”

Nose sniffling, eyes red, head fuzzy, hands shaking and top wet...you get up. ‘You did the best thing. It was the right decision to stay home’ you think, knowing it would have just ruined your friendship if you told him how you felt. And anyway, you wanted him to be happy. And clearly, that wasn't with you...

You ran upstairs and changed into a comfy pair of joggers and an oversized top, chucking your slippers on and grabbing a blanket before heading back downstairs. If you couldn't join their movie night - you’d have your own! 

Snacks and a drink were sitting on the table beside you on the sofa, with the television on ready and curtains closed. Just as you had got yourself in a comfy position, the doorbell rang. You grunted, kicking the blanket off your legs and dragging yourself towards the front door. Opening it, you felt your breath escape you. It was Stiles, standing at the door, with a bouquet of beautiful flowers in his hands. His hair was messy as if he’d run his fingers through it a thousand times, his cheeks were flushed brighter and pinker than bubblegum, looking as if he was out of breath from rushing somewhere. You go to say something, but before you had the chance, Stiles speaks, “Hi! I uh....I didn’t know whether you were mad at me or whether you were just having a rough day but it seemed like you were mad at me so I wanted to see if you were okay and uh...I got you these” His arms stretched to give you the flowers, his face ridden with nerves. You looked down at the flowers and then back up to Stiles’ face.

“Why would you think i was mad at you?” You questioned, brows furrowing at the confusion of what was happening. “These are gorgeous, thanks Stiles” you coo with a smile on your face, taking the flowers from Stiles’ hands. As you grab them, your hands touch Stiles’, causing your cheeks to flush and your heart to flutter. Stiles’ own cheeks flushed at the touch of your hands, too.

“You seem distant with me lately. And Scott told me why...” he begins, fingers fidgeting with the rim of his checkered shirt “I like Lydia...” he trails off.

Upon hearing these words, you feel your heart drop. Mouth dry and sadness creeping into your mind, you feel clouded with emotions and thoughts. Why would Stiles come over, give you flowers and then declare his love for Lydia? “Yeah I kno...” you begin until he cuts you off,

“She’s my friend. And she’s amazing...but she doesn’t wait for me after classes. She doesn’t call me to check in once in a while. She doesn’t do anything in her power to make sure I'm happy or know I'm loved...” his beautiful brown eyes stared lovingly into yours, your heart lifting and beating faster with each sentence he says...

“She doesn’t know me, and I mean the real me...the one who suffers with anxiety, who needs a nightlight and needs constant reassurance on even the simplest things” you smirk at the mention of a nightlight because, well, you were the one who actually got it for him...because you knew he wasn't doing too good. “She is my friend, Y/N, but she isn’t my best friend. And I like her, but I don’t love her...because I love you. It’s always been you”

There’s a soft wind that blows between you both, causing you to shiver and shake with both excitement and chills. Stiles’ eyes glittered in the sunlight like an ocean surface in summer, tears welling in them. You bit your lip which trembled with an overcoming emotion of happiness as you leant forward and grabbed him, cupping his face in your soft hands and bringing your lips to his in a desperate yet passionate way. Feelings of euphoria and desire filled both of your hearts like a fire burning bright, lips moving sweetly in sync as in destined for one another. His hands wrap around your waist as you bring your hands through his hair. Nothing felt more perfect than this moment...all your worries gone and your heart fuller than ever before because the boy who holds your heart, who has held your heart for years, is finally in your arms. Stiles’ warmth radiates onto your cheeks as you smile into the kiss, earning a smile from Stiles, too. Breaking away to breathe, you both look down and giggle, hands intertwining with Stiles rubbing circles on your palm with his thumb.

You look up at him, smiling, as you speak “I...I love you too”. Stiles coos as he pulls you closer to him to break the gap now between you both, “I gathered” he laughs, kissing the top of your forehead affectionately. “So, how about that marathon?”

Hope you guys like it! x

[memeadonna]

Anything for You, Baby

Hello everyone! This is a short little thirst story I wrote for @sendhelpimstupid featuring Sugar Baby Kirishima. The stunning art can be found here. Please visit her page and show her some love! 

This story is 18+. Minors DNI 

Warnings: Sugar Baby/Sugar Mommy Relationship, Premature Ejaculation, Cross-Dressing, Sub Kirishima, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Mild Choking, Scratching and Biting Mentioned, Vaginal Intercourse, I wrote this in like 3 hours sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes

Word Count: 2,562

Of all the things you were thankful for in life, people were always surprised when you mentioned Kirishima's expensive taste. Your entire relationship had started because he hadn't noticed how much money he'd been spending until one day he was overdrawn. He hadn't added up the totals of his expenses in his head, hadn't realized every time he swiped his card that money left his account. He liked the finer things in life, and how was he supposed to know that his bank account was meant to last him all of his first semester? His parents had told him "figure it out", so he couldn't even ask them for help. 

Being at a hero school was tough already – he could barely even enjoy the city nightlife since he was stuck at the dorms between classes doing homework. He didn't even have enough time to get a job outside of school hours. Maybe he wasn't cut out for university, let alone at a prestigious hero school. 

You had noticed Kirishima's state of panic, and when he confessed to everyone in the dorm that he was out of money, people (Bakugou and his other friends) had made fun of him. Uraraka and Iida had stepped in immediately, chastising them for mocking him. He tried to play it off as no big deal, that he'd figure it out, and the conversation shifted elsewhere. 

You'd been born into a wealthy family like Iida and Momo, and on top of that you'd had your own job throughout high school, so you'd saved up lots of money already.  "I could hire you," you told him after everyone had left for the night. "Pay you to do things for me." 

"I don't need your charity," he'd snapped back. "Did Bakugou put you up to this?" 

"I just thought I'd offer to help you since we're friends," you answered calmly, before getting up and heading to your dorm. That night you'd sat up late regretting ever asking him if he needed help. 

Early the next morning he was at your door. "What kind of things?" was the first thing he asked, as you rubbed your eyes and blinked up at him blearily. You made him repeat himself twice because the words didn't stick in your brain this early. 

"Clean my room, do my laundry," you'd finally told him, offering what you hoped was a kind smile. "Other things when I want them." The blush he gave you at those words more than made up for his harshness last night. 

You'd started slowly, of course. You gave him rewards for handing in assignments on time, taken him out to dinner when he got good grades, and little treats for random things. "Do I always need a reason, baby?" you'd asked him one night as he examined the concert tickets, you'd just given him. You'd been delighted to accept the ticket he gave back to you and had secretly smiled to yourself as Denki had whined and complained that Kirishima had promised to take him! But that was back when Kirishima was spending his money on everything. Now he was just spending it on himself. 

One day, half-joking, you'd gifted him a French Maid outfit to clean your room in. It was just a little too tight for him (he couldn't even do the zipper up!), but it was the creamy white stockings and cute little heels you were interested in. He tried his hardest to clean your room, but after the third time he rolled his ankle, he ended up with you in his lap, and let's just say that your relationship changed from there. 

You'd pushed him back into your bed and felt him up beneath the skirts and ruffles. You left a smattering of dark hickies over his neck and collarbones, moving down his body with clear intent. He was beet red, sitting up and panting as he watched you with wide eyes. Your hands slipped below his skirts and trailed up his legs, and you watched him squirm. "Aw," you teased, revelling in your victory. "What's wrong, does the baby like getting dressed up all cute and ravaged?" 

He stammered with a reply for a moment, but you dipped under his skirt and the breathy gasp he let out as you began to kiss up his thighs was more than worth it. A part of you wanted to pull back out and apply lipstick so you could leave more evidence of your kisses, but there was no way in hell you were going to back down now. You settled for more hickies and a few bites, and by the time you reached your prize, he was hard and throbbing. 

You were the only person with a dorm on your floor (luck of the draw), so you didn't dare tell him he should quiet down his moaning, especially not as you slid the lacy panties reverently down his thighs. 

It was clearly his first time, and he was squirming in your grip as you gave him a teasing lick. A part of you wanted to pull back and tease him some more, but this was too good to pass up. He threw an arm over his eyes and slipped his other hand into your hair. He arched his back as you raked your nails down his thighs, and let out the sweetest noise you'd ever heard, blowing his load directly in your face before you could even get him into your mouth. After you'd finished laughing and wiped his spunk off of your face, you'd given him the sweetest kiss on the cheek. He'd gone beet red as you laughed, and hadn't said no when you promised him a shopping spree because he was just so good for you. 

The sales lady at the lingered store had been surprisingly accommodating when you'd asked her if they carried up to a 3X. 

He'd been your sugar baby for all of first year, even after he got his own allowance from his parents. He'd been your boyfriend the rest of your university career (of course, you still liked to treat your spoiled baby), and a few years out of school he'd asked you to marry him, with that same sweet expression he always had when he told you he loved you. 

The world saw Red Riot as a strong, manly hero that took shit from nobody. They also saw him as hopelessly in love with you (or with Dynamight, depending on which magazine you read). He was a real Man's Man, always on the covers of fitness magazines or advertising sports drinks and protein powders. He advocated for always being chivalrous and brave, but that Manly Men also took the time to be vulnerable and compassionate. 

One thing that hadn't changed since your days in university was the fact that your Eijirou loved to be spoiled. Shopping sprees, private chefs, weekends away… his eyes always lit up no matter what you surprised him with. You were both similarly ranked in the charts, and both made a lot of money, but he secretly adored the fact that you had a bank account you filled up every month just for him. He'd buy whatever he wanted with it, whether it was designer clothes or handbags (for either of you), or any number of things (he particularly liked buying new gym equipment that the two of you most certainly didn't need). 

Today had been a hard day. You'd been overusing your quirk and your muscles were sore, not to mention you'd been working with one Lord Explosion Murder God which meant that you'd been ordered around all day.

When you got home, a note from your husband was laying on the counter. Eijirou would be home a little late, and you could order whatever for dinner. Grumbling to yourself, you refused to take yet another order from yet another person and reheated leftovers in the fridge. Take that, loving husband! 

You ate standing at the counter in your uniform, and after you'd put the dishes away you marched up to your bedroom, already peeling your costume off. You left it on the bathroom floor as you hopped into the shower, and just let the hot water scald your aching muscles. You used Eijirou's body wash because you missed his smell, and changed into your pyjamas while you combed your hair. 

You crawled under the covers and scrolled on your phone for a while, wishing your husband would just hurry up and come home already. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms, hear him tell you all about how he would protect you from the bad things in the world. 

The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs woke you from a restless sleep, and you sat up in bed. How long were you asleep? Was that your Eiji? 

The door opened, and what greeted you took your breath away. Your husband stood in the doorway with a sheer robe, trimmed with red faux fur. It was tied with a ribbon around his waist and accentuated his hips beautifully. He was wearing red lacy thigh highs and nothing else beneath the robe. He completed the look with a set of Louis Vuitton stilettos, which you noticed in passing due to the stunning everything else the Adonis before you was showing off. 

"Hey," he purred. "Heard you had a rough day." He smirked at you as your eyes trailed up and down his body. "Can I make it better?" he took a few steps into the room, undoing the ribbon around his waist teasingly slowly. He opened the robe, letting it fall off his shoulders and rest at his elbows. He had filled out a lot since university, and he was a healthy 7'6 and twice as wide as you. He could lift you with one arm and toss you like a football if he wanted, but as he dropped his robe to the floor and elegantly clicked his way across the room towards you, he had no intention of tossing you around tonight. That thought made sparks dance around your core, and you felt your panties starting to soak. 

You sat up on your knees for a better look at him. He ran his hands over his body, shamelessly showing off for you. His dick stood proud and tall and was already leaking for you. You smiled at him as you slipped into your role. "Did you buy that to look pretty for me?" you asked ever so sweetly. "Sounds like you want a reward." 

He walked right up to the side of the bed with a breathy "Yes,". You leaned up for a kiss and enjoyed the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he took his time with you. 

His hands gently explored your curves, squeezing the plush of your thighs and the soft skin beneath your breasts, and as you pulled back to lick your lips at him, "Anything for you, Baby," felt like the most natural thing to say. 

He crawled into bed, careful not to kick you with his knife-shoes, and placed his wrists at the headboard. You attached the restraints with all the care in the world, and ran your hands over your baby's chest, admiring all of the scars that years of hero work had marked him with. "You're beautiful," you told him, leaning down for another kiss. 

You painted his chest with kisses and hickies, not caring if they'd be visible the next day. Let people stare. Let people know who your man belonged to. 

"I love these too," you ran your hand over his new stockings. "You know lace is my favourite." 

"Always the best for mommy," he purred back, pleased with himself as you explored his body. It had become familiar to you; you knew everywhere he was sensitive. You knew how to get him going, how to slow him down, and how to drive him wild. You shrugged off your own pyjamas and he let out a noise of approval, eyes taking in your curves. "You're stunning." He offered, looking absolutely awestruck. If his hands were free, they'd be all over you, but now was not his turn for control. 

You slid off your panties and tossed them off the bed, eyeing his body up with increasing lust, before suddenly straddling him and sinking down onto him with a small noise of discomfort. He let out a sharp noise of concern and pleasure, gasping. "You've gotta prep yourself!" He hissed, half-drunk on the tight squeeze. 

"Shut up," you answered, and picked up a brutal pace. He let out a strangled noise and arched up into your touch, gasping and whining and looking up at you with eyes clouded by lust as he gave harsh thrusts up into your welcoming body. His hands hardened and unhardened within their restraints, along with a line along his forehead. You wrapped your hands around his throat, and he tilted his head back to bare it to you. His moans crescendoed as you began to put pressure on him, canting your hips faster and faster. 

He was drunk off the lust singing in his veins and bent one of his knees to give you better leverage. You freed one of his hands from its restraint and it immediately flew to your hip to help you ride. His tongue was lolling out of his mouth, and his breath came in desperate gasps. "Gonna cum!" he whined, blinking desperately up at you. "Please mommy! Please let me fucking cum I want to cum so bad!" he babbled, blinking his pretty crimson eyes up at you. 

You gently caressed his face and smiled down at him. You leaned in closer, giving him a deep kiss. "So do it," you growled. "Knock me up." 

His hips faltered and the absolute roar he let out at your challenge sent a pleased shiver through you. He ripped the other restraint right off of the bedframe (along with a chunk of the frame itself) and flipped you onto your back, all without pulling out of you. He kissed you ravenously, his hands squeezing every inch of you. He grabbed one of your tits in one hand as he reached his other down to play with your clit. He threw you over the edge, and as you came around him, his thrusts changed. They were sharp and purposeful as he poured everything he had into your body. 

"Mine," he growled out, sinking his fangs into the tender meat of your shoulder. He didn't dare move as the two of you came down from your highs but rolled the two of you back over so he didn't crush you. You laughed a little and cuddled into his chest, enjoying the warmth of a womb full of his cum and the delicious stretch of him inside of you, not to mention the feeling of utter safety that having his arms around you brought. "I love you." He purred, giving your forehead a kiss.  

"I love you too," you answered back, smiling up at him with tenderness. 

"Did you really mean it?" he traced his hands over your back, massaging your tender shoulders. "You want to start a family?" 

"Mhm," you nodded tiredly, before looking back up at him once again, echoing your earlier promise: "Anything for you, Baby." 

Taglist: @malicealieness (If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me an ask requesting it)

[likeastarstar]

The House Call

Summary: As a full time grad student and part time drug dealer, you have a lot on your plate and Namjoon being a shitty school project partner is NOT helping, ok?!

masterlist.

Okay, so you were a drug dealer.

Nothing major! It was just weed, which would be legalized quickly, given the way the rest of the world was going. It was just to get you through grad school, you only sold to friends. You kept your circle tight, not many people even knew you dealt. You were very selective, which is why when Seokjin asked to share your number with his friend, you were unsure. But he was your most reliable customer, so his friends must be too.

What made it even worse was that he apparently was too busy to meet up at your usual drop spot- insisting to pay extra if you did a house call instead. You agreed, obviously, but still. It was annoying.

You had things to do, there was a huge project due the next morning and your partner hadn't done his part of it. He looked smart enough when you were paired up- he had glasses and everything. How were you supposed to know he was lazy as shit.

A buzzing in your pocket interrupted your internal rant- who the hell was calling you this late at night?

"Hello?" You snapped, letting your bad mood seep through your tone.

"Uh, hi- I had a question about the project."

Namjoon- your project partner. Of course. You groaned, walking up the steps to the apartment complex to where you were meant to drop off the weed. All of your conversations with this new customer had been through Jin, a fact that you regretted deeply.

"Get it over with, you know you really should've done this sooner," You sighed, checking the apartment numbers twice before knocking on the door.

"I normally would've but I've been really stressed, ok?" He apologized, a shuffling sound coming through the line.

You rolled your eyes as the door in front of you opened, revealing-

"Namjoon," You gasped, taken aback. He was Jin's friend? What are the odds. You hung up quickly, raising your eyebrows dramatically, "What are you doing buying weed instead of working on our project?"

He looked shocked himself, towering over you with his phone still pressed to his ear. He was dressed more casually than you were used to seeing, his hair disheveled in a way that oddly looked better than when he tried to tame it.

"I told you I was stressed," He mumbled, "Come in. I didn't know you were a dealer."

"I didn't know you smoked," You bit back, rolling your eyes.

You pursed your lips but stepped into his place, looking around curiously. It was nice, decorated in a way you wouldn't have expected from a 20 something year old boy. His place was relatively clean, other than the multiple empty cup noodles placed in random areas and the insane amount of paper laying around, "is this all schoolwork?"

"I'm taking a lot of classes," He shrugged, "How much is it?"

"Uh- thirty," You answered, picking up the nearest piece of paper. It was for micronutrients in the human body. the human, a class you had taken two semesters ago on a whim. "No wonder you're stressed out."

He handed you the money wordlessly, trading you for the paper in your hand. You looked at him for the first time since you walked in, only now noticing the dark circles under his eye and the way he had seemingly bitten his lower lip raw. You groaned, feeling all of the annoyance you had minutes ago turn into sympathy.

You shoved the money in your pocket and handed him his weed, pulling your backpack off your back, "Get high, take a break."

"I can't take a break right now, I'm so fucking behind on all of my classes-"

"Chill, I'll help you. Light up, we'll work on the project together and then I'll help you on micro. I got an A in it, I'll tutor you."

So that's what you did, working through the mountain of shit he had piled up in his living room side by side. You never really noticed how funny he was before, both unintentionally and intentionally. He offered your own weed to you and you accepted, feeling nice and relaxed by the time you had gotten around to tutoring Namjoon on other subjects.

"Do you understand it a little more now?" You asked, looking up at him. He was sat beside you on the couch, thighs touching yours with an arm stretched behind your head on the couch. He nodded and frowned, correcting his work and leaning towards you to show you. "Y-yeah, that's right."

He smelt really good- like sandalwood and honey. You couldn't help but stare at the way he was sucking his cheeks in in concentration. Why the hell was this guy a environmental science major? He could be a model.

"You're a really fast learner," You noted, your voice soft and hazy, the way it always was when you were high.

"You're a good teacher," He mumbled, smiling sleepily at you.

He looked so cute you couldn't help it, leaning forwards to kiss him. Namjoon was caught off guard, freezing for a moment but his lips were soft and his skin was warm, drawing you in before you snapped back to reality, pulling away sharply.

"I shouldn't have done that," You gasped, leaning away from him awkwardly. You had to get out of here- eyes already searching for your belongings. Embarrassment crept up on your skin, heating your cheeks. Maybe you could blame it on being reallt fucking blazed, which you were.

"No," He said suddenly, catching your arm with a hand around your wrist, "I should've done it."

What?

"Why do you think I wanted to be your partner for this project?" He smiled, eyes lighting up in a cute way you hadn't noticed before.

"Um, because I'm the smartest person in class?" You guessed, playing with his large hand idly. His fingers felt good between yours, tingling shocks sparking in the places where his skin touched yours.

He laughed softly, nodding sheepishly, "That too- but more than a good grade, what I wanted was you. Part of the reason I'm so behind in class is because all I do during lecture is stare at you- you're not very good at controlling your facial expressions, did you know that?"

You pulled your mouth into a tight line, smiling awkwardly. It was true, you had been known to show every thought passing through your mind on your face. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"You're really scary," He shrugged plainly, as if it were just an obvious fact. "You yell at me a lot which makes me nervous and horny at the same time and I've been trying to figure out whether that means I'm a freak or not."

"It's a good thing I enjoy yelling at you," You noted, more to yourself than him.

"You can yell at me whenever you want, baby," He said jokingly, grinning down at you. Holy shit, he had really nice teeth.

You barely had time to process his words before his lips were on yours, leading the kiss this time. His hand cradled the side of your face, thumb stroking your still flushed cheeks delicately as his other arm wrapped around your waist. You placed your hands on his shoulders, squeezing the muscle under your palms and pulling him closer to you. Namjoon guided you onto his lap, holding you closer him. God- he was warm and strong and so, so soft.

His hands stayed in their polite place at your waist, kneading into the flesh of your sides with a purpose. Namjoon was a good kisser- an easy balance of dominant and soft. He knew where to push and pull, reading your body like it was second nature to him. First kisses could be awkward, but this one was perfect.

His tongue licked a tentative swipe along the edges of your mouth and you reached up to sink your hands in his hair, pushing his head to the side slightly as you parted your lips and allowed him to deepen the kiss. His tongue was soft against yours and he tasted like smoke and something sweet, your favorite strain of weed invading your senses.

"We should do this more often- maybe not the tutoring thing, but this- the kissing thing," He said, parting from you for a moment.

You nodded eagerly, pulling him back towards you, "Yeah, definitely- the kissing thing. Maybe if I give you enough time to stare at me outside of class, you'll do better too. I really can't date anyone below a 3.5 GPA you know."

"Okay, calm down," He pouted, narrowing his eyebrows at you, "I have a 3.8."

"I have a 3.84," You bragged, "Don't worry, I'll tutor you."

He stifled a laugh and began kissing you again. You smiled and reminded yourself to thank Kim Seokjin for asking you to make a house call.

(A/N: giiirrrl what the hell? I don't have a 3.84 in my program...maybe I should've gone into a creative writing grad program instead....LMAO)

[mrdanielbond]

Wild Nights, Wild Hearts (One-Shot?)

“Mystery man”

[Main characters: Mikael Blomkvist X Reader]

Plot: It is time to head back to work as a lecturer at your university after a successful first semester. Unfortunately for you, one of your guest lecturers is a familiar face from a wild night out…

[A/N: Wrote this ages ago and thought, hey why not? Okay, so I don’t know if this is going to be an actual thing. Like I assume it’s going to be a one-shot. Plus, in all fairness, Mikael is my favourite non-Bond character of Daniel’s, so I thought it’s time to appreciate this man in all his glory. I hope you enjoy this! Let me know what you think?]

Music continued to boom through the speakers. The flashing lights and smoke was intense, but you didn’t care. As long as you were still with your friends, celebrating a birthday amongst the group, that's all that mattered. What also helped was the fact your sultry look managed to get you quite a few free drinks from the bartender. You weren’t used to this kind of attention, often keeping a natural look. However, this was your friend and co-worker’s birthday. You wanted to spice things up and look incredible for her. Of course, when Maisie saw you for the first time, she was surprised. In fact, her jaw dropped at how glamorous you looked. “Girl what the HELL! After Florence Pugh, you are a woman I’d proudly fuck.” You remember her particularly saying and that was the start of an incredibly wild night.

“Javier, can I get another tequila please!” You scream with excitement at the bar, Javier proudly pours you your sixth tequila shot.

“This one’s on the house my darling,  Y/N.” He pushed the shot glass in front of you and your eyes widen with excitement. You had to admit, you do have a thing for tequila so this man feeding you free drinks made the night all the better.

“You spoil me.” You winked as you took the shot and walked off to join the rest of your friends.

The night followed with more dancing and more drinks between your friends. At some point on the floor, you started to get tired and your craving for more drinks kicked in because you found yourself at the bar once again. This time you were looking for something more than a shot. “Okay, so it’s like a sex on the beach but like so much fruiter, like with strawberries!” You tried to explain but in your drunken state, Javier couldn’t help but laugh as he struggled listening to you.

“You know what? You tell me what to do and I’ll make it for you.” He said and a devious grin appeared on your face. So you watched, instructing him on how to make your special cocktail and when he finished, he threw a small umbrella inside it to serve you. You sipped it and couldn’t help but moan. It was glorious...Well maybe it would’ve been if you could taste it at all.

“Can I have what she’s having?” A baritone voice said beside you. You turned with your eyebrow raised. “And I’ll pay for hers.”

He reached into his wallet, still looking into your eyes as he handed Javier his card. You weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol or the fact you were practically pushed against each other with how packed the bar was but this man was...incredibly handsome. Rugged dirt blonde hair, bright blue eyes that gave you butterflies and his dark blue shirt didn’t help as you couldn’t help but stare at his chest from time to time. Javier turned back to make your drink for the stranger and handed it over to him. “If you’re going to have a cocktail, you’ve got to get it right. Strawberries with the ice.” He said with a smirk but you couldn’t hear him. Not with the music blasting over you...and his dreamy eyes. “What?” You tried to shout out. “I said-” He could barely get a word out in all the noise and you could see it. Quickly, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to a quieter table in the corner. “That’s better - wow.” He suddenly stopped himself when he took another look at you. “You’re really beautiful.” “Smooth.” You chuckled. Alright, so at this point, usually you would say thanks and dip to find your friends. However, this man, bless him, appeared mesmerized by you. He was in awe of you and not just looking at your chest or your figure as though he were some creep. You both hadn’t realised you were still holding hands, leaning into each other.

“Hey, that’s unfair! I’m not usually bold with women.” Something about the mystery man was telling you he was honest. “The strong and silent type is full of surprises.” He said and you swear to god, you could see even he knew what he was doing with that statement. To be honest, he was right. With those eyes, he wouldn’t have to say a single word to get you to go home with him. Throughout the night, you both kept rambling to each other about everything and nothing but you were both having fun, laughing together and putting each other at ease. Your friends must’ve noticed you because they were all staring at the two of you in awe, sharing drinks together, leaning into each other. Then ‘Someone New’ by Hozier began to play. Oh no. Any slow song that played while you were next to a man was a recipe for disaster. The mystery man ,on his high, pulled you closer. “Oh no, I can’t go out there!” You said. “Come on, what happened to that confidence I saw earlier?!” He laughed. “Listen, I can pick and choose when I want to be brave!” You snapped back. “Why are you so bold all of a sudden?!” “What can I say? You bring out a new side to me.” He laughed and before you could fight back, he managed to bring you to the floor. You couldn’t tell him why this was a bad idea but...maybe it wasn’t now you were in his arms, moving around the floor. He held you close and you didn’t want to leave. Not with the high of the drinks and after such a good night filled with laughter. Who knows? Maybe when you wake up the next day, you’d regret it. But for now, you were going to appreciate being here with him...but now you were filled with anticipation, you were craving something. Uh oh. You were craving him. Suddenly, a surge of confidence filled you and you looked up at him. He had already been looking at you. Quickly, he leaned in and you found yourselves kissing with a raw, fiery passion that remained unmatched. You could tell how much he wanted you. In fact, you could feel it as he pressed you against him. But you didn’t care. You ran your fingers through his hair, now the heated kiss becoming lazy until you bit his lip, catching him by surprise. When you pulled back breathlessly, he smirked. “Oh shut up, I know what you’re going to say.” You playfully pushed his chest.

The hangover the next day was going to be ridiculous but you didn’t care. The mystery man had you all over him, and he? All over you.

Rain violently bounced against the wall of your office. Across you sat Maisie, who happened to be an English lecturer. You were one of the lecturers, who had just finished your PHD in Media and Cultural Studies and when offered a job at the university, you couldn’t help yourself but stay. It was decent pay after all and after three years with the university, you realised your students loved you. There were wild lecturers in the school of arts department, who overshared and gladly you weren’t one of them but your students knew you well enough to seem relatable. However, you were hoping that today they would not quiz you on your hangover. Especially your seminar classes, they really loved hearing whatever you went through. Right now, you sat at the table, head against the desk of your office while Maisie watched you groan. “Oh my god.” Was all you could mumble. This was not how you wanted to spend your first week back of the second semester. Your head was pounding violently, you were nauseous, stomach turning. The only thing saving you was the cup of coffee you had in hand, after being forced to take an espresso shot, you were still practically dead. Maisie simply sat there shaking her head. God, she had no right to judge you after goading you into going out. “You should have known not to go hard on the drinks!” “But...free…” The words fell from your lips. “Javier gives free drinks all the time, I’m surprised it doesn’t get him fired. You should’ve known, he did this last time. Actually, that reminds me, where did you go last night?” And then you remembered. You went off with a mystery man, an incredibly handsome mystery man. That, you were fortunate enough to remember. With your head against the table, you smirked, so your friend wouldn’t see. “Don’t pretend as if we didn’t see you walking off and kissing that man, who by the way is a huge score! We spent all night fangirling about him.” Maisie said with excitement but all you could do was groan again, “Come on! You have to tell me! What happened?” “Nothing happened.” You mumbled into your arms. Okay something happened but you still didn’t want to say anything. “Don’t lie to me! You have to tell me, it was my birthday, meaning you have to tell me what YOU did on my day!”

You still refused to move. As your knight in shining armour, the Head of Faculty, Andrew stormed into the room, coffee mug and binder in hand. “Right! Who’s ready for a day full of learning ladies!” Maisie laughed as all you could let out was a groan. “Oh, not you too!” He let out an irritated huff. “This is ridiculous. Seems like there’s a lot of hangovers going around this morning.” “Really?” Maisie said, leaning forward with excitement. “Yeah, I just got off the phone with the guest lecturer. He is bloody hungover too. Could hear it in his voice.” Shit. Guest lecturer. One of the senior lecturers decided to go on a research leave mid-year, which didn’t help your cause as you were left with over one hundred students needing attention. That is when the head of faculty, Andrew, who you adored, decided to call in a guest lecturer, an industry expert in the field to provide you with support. Only thing is, Andrew was unpredictable, so you didn’t know who he had in store. You only knew he was a pretty popular journalist in Europe. Weren’t you supposed to be meeting him before the class? “He said he’s going to be running late.” Thank god for that. You didn’t need Andrew screaming at you about representing the university under a negative light. Before Andrew could get to scolding you, however, your alarm went off. Swiftly, you jumped up and swiped all your folders. “Class! Got to get to class!” Was all you could muster before leaving the room, and your colleagues, incredibly shocked.

Students filled the lecture hall for the first lesson of the semester, which didn’t surprise you. There were a lot of familiar faces as usual. A couple of new ones but most of the students knew when you were out of it and these were the ones present. Andrew followed you in, watching intently, hoping you wouldn’t screw this up. But everyone knew the rules. The moment your mug was placed against the desk, everyone was silent, eagerly listening to hear from you. “Morning everyone! Welcome back, I hope you have all had a wonderful Christmas break! Just know that for many of you who took my module last year, yes, I am currently in the process of grading your assignments and the results will be distributed next week. However, I am not here to talk about that. Right now, it is time to turn over a new page! So, for those of you that don’t know me, I am Dr. Y/N Y/LN. I am totally cool without the whole formal title and I am a lecturer in Media and Cultural studies and welcome to my module Introduction to Investigative Journalism. This is where we’ll be in touch with some of the world’s most notorious cases from the role investigative journalism played in the portrayal of criminals from the likes of Charles Ponzi, Pablo Escobar, Charles Bronson to female serial killers such as Velma Barfield and Judy Buenoano. We will be looking at cold cases such as the murder of Olof Palme to the story of D.B. Cooper and corruption amongst transnational and multinational companies such as the fall of Wennerstrom. I know this feels like a criminology course and having the stomach would be ideal, however this is incredibly interesting if you want to look into serious crimes and learn about political corruption. I mean I didn’t have the stomach at first but you learn to live with it.” The students laughed. Andrew was in awe of how professional you managed to be but then again that is why the university needed you. They knew you were the young voice they needed to liven things up and get students intrigued, no matter how hungover or ill you were. “ Now, as you know, Dr. Woodbridge has taken a research leave so today, I believe that Andrew has called in a guest lecturer who will be here throughout the second half of the module to provide support and as an industry expert will hopefully be able to answer the questions you all will have.”

Andrew stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear as he headed to the centre. He gave you a wink to praise the way you pulled yourself together and turned to the rest of the class. “Thank you very much, Y/N. Couldn’t have introduced the module better myself, you have me excited and I’m not even taking it! Anyway, without further ado, I am honoured to introduce to you all your guest lecturer today, he is an investigative journalist and co-owner of Swedish magazine, Millennium, Mikael Blomkvist!” The class gave an applause and so did you as the man walked through the door. Then your applause slowed...hang on a minute. Why did the name Mikael sound familiar? Mikael walked in with a smile, waving at the glass, sporting glasses and a warm cardigan, smiling but then he turned to you and then it hit you. This was YOUR mystery man!