#less of a one shot and more something I’d try to put in another fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaleidohscopic · 1 month

Text

IN THE DYING SUMMER SUN — BBH

PAIRING: baekhyun x female reader SUMMARY: a weekend up at the beach house might just be enough to make you crack and come clean about your little (big, fat) crush. alternatively, park chanyeol is possibly the worst wingman ever. GENRE: friends to lovers! au, crush! baekhyun, romance, fluff, a pinch of angst, pining, humour WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension!!, slightly suggestive, reader and baekhyun are both kind of clueless tbh WORD COUNT: 9.4k NOTE: happy birthday baekhyun!! thought it would be fitting to start off this blog with a fic for bbh on his birthday. this was supposed to be a 4-5k piece of fluff but somehow it ended up being double that and a lot more serious than i originally intended (oops?). kinda nervy posting such a long fic for the first time ever so feedback is most certainly welcome and i hope you enjoy!

“You definitely rigged this.”

Chanyeol only rewarded you with a shit-eating grin.

The scrap of paper couldn’t weigh more than a few grams, but in your hands, they felt like the barbell plates at the gym that he could never leave alone. Especially since a certain someone was also holding another scrap of paper with ‘ground floor twin room’ hastily scrawled across it.

You shook your head vehemently, fixing the tall boy with a dagger-like stare that he seemed completely unfazed by. “I demand a redraw.”

“Which is not going to happen,” was his gleeful response. “We all agreed — no take-backs before picking.” The hat that you had all drawn out of, now empty, was tossed on the coffee table as everyone else began to move their bags into their freshly chosen rooms. Somewhere down the hallway, Jongin tripped over the wheels of his suitcase, his pained groan and Kyungsoo’s laughter bouncing against the walls of the AirBnb.

“Besides,” Chanyeol continued, hand coming up to ruffle your hair, “if I had actually rigged it, you should be thanking me. I’d be doing you a favour.” He gestured towards Baekhyun, who was busying himself with packing his hoodie back into his duffle bag, hopefully oblivious to the fact that the two of you were conspiring about him less than three metres away.

“Yeah, say it any louder, why don’t you. And no, that wasn’t an invitation,” you warned, catching the wicked glint in Chanyeol’s eyes. He opened his mouth, as if to make good on your request and let the whole house know, only to choke back a groan at the elbow you shoved into his side. Behave, said the glare that you shot at him. His replying smile was anything but reassuring, before he picked up his bag and headed upstairs.

That was what you got for getting a little too drunk at Jongdae’s housewarming get-together last month and accidentally slipping up about your big, fat, debilitating crush on Baekhyun after the third glass of pinot noir in one night. If it had been anyone else made aware of your juvenile secret, you would probably be feeling a little less uneasy — but it just had to be the one person who couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Not to mention Park Chanyeol was a terrible wingman, having heard about the ridiculous escapades he put Jongdae through before he finally cuffed his girlfriend. Lucky for you, you were now getting to experience it first-hand.

“I can ask Jongin to swap, if you really don’t want to room with me,” came a soft voice from your right. Baekhyun regarded you with an expectant, if somewhat hesitant expression.

“No, it’s okay,” you replied, trying your best to mask the panic that was fighting its way into your voice. It would be just your luck, that he would think your reluctance to share a sleeping space with him was because you didn’t like him enough, and not that you liked him a little too much. The slight furrow in his brow seemed to melt away with your words. “I just wanted the big room with the queen bed, but somehow Chanyeol got it. I seriously think he did something to these,” you said, waving your slip of paper that matched the one he was holding.

Come to think of it, you and Baekhyun had also been the last ones to draw out of the hat, since Chanyeol had insisted on going counter-clockwise around the dining table. How he managed to game the room allocations was beyond you, but you were now almost certain that he did.

“It’s good that he’s by himself though. The snoring would drive anyone mad,” Baekhyun mused, and you had to chuckle in agreement.

“That time he passed out at my place after Saturday drinks…I genuinely thought I’d end up with a murder charge that night.” you said, chest squeezing at the way his eyes crinkled into crescent moons at your words. You busied yourself with your own bag, hoping he wouldn’t see the dumb smile on your face, and be able to tell how pleased you were to have teased a laugh out of him. Laughter was not something he usually withheld — he gave it freely, if not a little too generously — but it always did a funny thing to your heart when you were the cause of it.

“Definitely can’t have that. Pretty face like yours would not last a day in jail.” With one hand around his own duffle, he draped the free one around your shoulders, letting the warmth of his arm wrap around you as you headed down the corridor to the room you’d be sharing for the weekend.

Having a crush on Baekhyun was no big deal. Probably even normal, if his college days were anything to go by. But what made it so debilitating was things like this — the little comments he’d throw around that could easily be passed off as just friendly flirting if you were so inclined, though you sometimes let yourself imagine his intentions came more from the flirting than the friendly part. He was a generally touchy person too, never missing a chance to pat Kyungsoo’s ass when the opportunity arose, but sometimes the brush of his fingers against the inside of your wrist felt a little too affectionate for two people united solely through friendship, even if you were the only one who internally crossed that line a while ago. It was things like this that made you question, every once in a while, if your feelings were as one-sided as you believed. Most of the time though, you chalked it up to his disposition, his easy-going magnetism, and concluded that whatever signals you thought he was sending were merely due to your overactive imagination running wild with hopes that he felt the same way.

“Dibs left,” he said, plopping down on the twin bed closer to the window. His arms raised above his head in a long, yawning stretch, revealing a thin strip of skin at the waistband of his jeans. Just the sight of it was enough to control your blood, sending a rush of it to your face, and you internally cursed yourself for being so weak to such a small thing. It was obvious you had been alone for way too long. He was too comfortable to notice the flush on your cheeks, eyes shut and enjoying the tension leaving his body after the long drive up.

You sat yourself down carefully on the remaining bed, noting the gap between the two mattresses. Whether you wanted to push them together or against opposite walls of the room, you couldn’t be sure. It was hard to form coherent thoughts when he turned to you with a boyish playfulness that curled the corner of his mouth upwards.

“You’re not going to sleepwalk your way into my bed, are you?” he asked, chin in his hand, a teasing glint in his eyes. You tried hard to catch yourself from choking on your own saliva.

“I’ve been known to kick in my sleep,” was your reply, voice much more nonchalant than you thought you were capable of, given that he had just planted the seed of the two of you sharing a twin mattress that was definitely not big enough to lie down on without touching in at least three different places. The glint in his eyes faded immediately, giving way to thinly-veiled concern at the threat underlying your words.

“I was kidding,” you clarified when he sat up and started to back away from you. “At least, I haven’t done that for fifteen or so years. But you never know, it might come back again tonight, when you’ve finally fallen asleep, and then BAM! Foot to the face. You better sleep with your eyes open, Byun Baekhyun,” you warned, giggling at the realisation dawning over his face before his pretty features settled into mock annoyance.

“You just think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He was on all fours now, making his way towards you with a wolfish grin. In no time, he had crawled over the gap between your two beds and suddenly his fingers were prodding at your ribs. It was a well-planned tickle attack, and one you had no chance of escaping from, since his legs had caged you in and the rest of him was pinning you down. You were helpless against the ambush of his fingers, succumbing to them with gasping giggles, punctuated by desperate pleas for him to stop. He showed no intention of letting up, fingers digging even deeper into your waist.

If you were going to die like this, you thought, at least you’d be dying while lying under him.

“When you two are done canoodling, we’re going to go set up on the beach,” came a voice from the doorway. Baekhyun’s merciless fingers paused, and the two of you looked back to see Chanyeol’s amused face at the foot of your bed, smirking like he knew some big secret that neither of you were privy to. God, you were seriously regretting that third glass at Jongdae’s new apartment last month.

Baekhyun turned back to you, your noses almost touching, and you could feel the air from his exhales fanning against the skin of your cheek. There was a mole just above the corner of his mouth that you don’t think you had ever noticed before. Warmth from his jean-clad legs radiated into your hips and meandered up and down your spine, and suddenly the late summer air around you was becoming sticky and heavier than usual.

As if just now noticing the proximity you were in, he slowly untangled himself from your limbs, making sure not to crush you in the process. You sat up, still breathless, having just calmed down enough for full inhales again, but so was he, you noted. Surely tickling wasn’t that exertive of an activity? Or maybe you’d put up a better fight than you had thought.

“Don’t forget your towels,” was the last thing Chanyeol said before he ducked out, yelling at Jongin to grab the beach umbrellas, not the rain ones. There were a few seconds just filled with the sounds of your slowing breathing.

“I’m going to go get changed,” Baekhyun said, turning around to dig through his bag for his swim shorts. You couldn’t see his expression, but you could hear the slight tremble in his voice that indicated he hadn’t quite recovered from whatever was afflicting him. “We’ll probably just be setting up the umbrellas, so no rush, just come down when you’re ready.” As he turned around to head towards the bathroom, he flashed you that familiar smile, the one that always resulted in one of your own to mirror his, and set you at ease again.

“And make sure you bring your sunscreen,” he added, before disappearing down the hallway. You watched him go, throwing yourself back onto the bed with a frustrated groan once you were sure he was out of earshot. Two whole days and nights in this tiny room, in the languid death of summer, with his body just an arm’s length away from yours — you had no idea how much of this you could stomach and emerge with your sanity intact.

This was shaping up to be the longest weekend ever.

The afternoon sun was unforgiving when you emerged from the house. Though you had thrown on a cover up before leaving, you could feel the heat tingling on the surface of your skin through the thin cotton. From the top of the bushy path leading down to the beach, you could already hear the tell-tale signs of a competition brewing between the boys, even if you couldn’t quite see them yet. A few steps down and you could make out their figures, managing to catch the view of Chanyeol flipping backwards off the jetty before plunging into the water, where the rest of them were bobbing around. Baekhyun’s voice floated above the others the way it always did when he was teasing, liltingly distinguishable, though perhaps that was only because you were now so attuned to it that other voices naturally started to sound more foreign.

It was hard to pinpoint exactly when he went from Baekhyun, your friend who tended to get a little too rowdy after half a can of beer, to Baekhyun, your friend who made your heart pick up a little faster when you thought of him. One day his hiccuping laugh was teetering on the edge of obnoxiousness, and then all of a sudden it became endearing to hear the raw joy in his voice. If you knew exactly when the switch flipped, maybe you’d be able to retrace your steps and stop yourself from ever setting off down this path to end up where you were now, watching the sunlight glisten against his wet face with an overwhelming affection, wondering what it would be like to be the private audience of his radiant smile everyday.

You set your things down on the sand next to the pile of clothes and towels that were already there, recognising Chanyeol’s hat somewhere in the mix. The beach umbrella that Jongin had set up was already beginning to lurch towards one side, the brim rather close to the ground. Fixing it back in place and digging it into the sand a little deeper, you let out a fond laugh — some things, like the way Jongin used his hands like they weren’t his own, would stand the test of time.

You had hoped that your friendship with Baekhyun would be one of those things, but the more time you spent casting longing glances his way when he wasn’t looking, the more you weren’t sure if you could ever recover from his rejection if you ever did decide to be honest about your feelings towards him. So you did your best to bury them, content to enjoy his company in the way you were both familiar with, afraid that if they did surface, they’d taint your friendship with something unpleasant and irreversible. If you couldn’t own the sun, at least you could still revel in its warmth.

Satisfied with the position of your towel underneath the shade of the umbrella, you looked back at the water, returning Baekhyun’s sweeping wave with a small one of your own. It was just enough of a distraction for Chanyeol to turn around as well, and Baekhyun seized the opportunity to dunk him, gleefully howling as the taller boy’s head disappeared below the waves. Before Chanyeol could resurface and enact his retaliation, Baekhyun was already making his escape, swimming towards the shore with fearful determination. Chanyeol made to follow, but upon seeing you sitting on the beach with your eyes fixed on Baekhyun’s approaching figure, he thought better of it, turning back around to continue the diving evaluation as Jongin took his turn to leap off the jetty.

With an amused smile, you watched as Baekhyun hurried out of the ocean, wet hair flying in all directions and flicking droplets of seawater across the sand. The water trickled down the planes of his bare torso, and you tried to keep your eyes away from the firmness of his pec, or the flexing movements of his abdominals as he made his way over to you. One thing was for sure — the gym sessions with Chanyeol were paying off.

When he finally reached you, Baekhyun slumped onto your towel, ignoring your protests for him to stay away, and proceeded to soak you in the remaining water that was still clinging to his body. The skin of his stomach was cool against your calf, and he giggled delightfully at your attempts to push him off to avoid getting more water onto your clothes.

“Stop trying to fight it, you’re going to get wet when you go in anyway,” he said, finally rolling off you.

“I wasn’t planning on going in. I’m scared you’ll try to drown me,” you huffed, lightly flicking some sand onto his shoulder with your toe. He turned back around, chin cradled in his left hand, and flashed you a boyish smile.

“I would never do that,” he said, though the glint in his eyes was anything but convincing. “Besides, what are you going to do at the beach if you’re not getting in the water?”

You picked up the book nestled in between your shoes and waved it at him. “Read, of course.” He regarded the worn paperback with amused disbelief, eyebrows slightly raised. It was only when you flipped the book open to the paperclip you’d been using as a bookmark that he realised you were serious, and let out a scoff that was laced with something akin to fondness.

“You are such a cliche. Pretty girl reading at the beach? Unbelievable, seriously,” he said, before wriggling his head into your stomach, relishing in your shocked squeals as your cover up began to dampen again. His mischief had left a few wet patches on the fabric that were beginning to stick to your body in the uncomfortable fashion of late summer. You reached for the hem, pulling it off not without some struggle, and immediately felt the sun kissing against your bare shoulders. Though you were mostly covered by the shade from the umbrella, the last thing you wanted was a blistering sunburn where the straps of your tote bag usually rested, so you grabbed the sunscreen you had so diligently packed and began applying it on the parts of your skin that were exposed.

Baekhyun had gone uncharacteristically quiet. If you had been paying attention to him instead of so attentively rubbing the cream into the underside of your knee, perhaps you would have noticed the way his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than would have been polite. They followed the path your hands took, from the expanse of skin below your neck, across your stomach, and down the length of your legs.

“Do you want me to do your back?” he blurted, his voice a little more strained than usual. He was wearing an odd expression on his face, something you couldn’t quite place, but it was different from the usual playful one you were most well acquainted with. Nevertheless, you agreed, passing him the tube and turning around so your back was facing him.

His fingers were still cold from the water, and you jumped when they first made contact with your skin. He only laughed, squeezing both hands around your shoulders to hold you still before he got back to work again.

The first graze of his hands across your shoulders was tentative. You could feel the heat of him behind your back, the smell of salt and sun clinging to the air around you. His breaths fanned the skin on the back of your neck, sending goosebumps down your arms and legs despite the thick heat of the afternoon. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Slowly, his hands made their way down to your lower back, and it was then that you realised you might be in trouble. His hands pressed against the grooves of your spine, curving ever so slightly around your waist, and if you shivered, he pretended not to feel you tremble in his grasp.

It was when his fingers slipped underneath the ties of your bikini top that the alarm bells began to go off in your head. His movements were hesitant, fingers stuttering in their dance across your skin before they gingerly pulled the strings aside to spread the sunscreen between the top and bottom halves of your back. It was too much, feeling his warmth, knowing there was only an inch of space between your bare torsos, having his hands on you doing such a thorough job with the task he had assigned to himself. When the tips of his fingers brushed the side of your ribs, just under the edge of the fabric, you couldn’t help the breathy noise that escaped your lips.

“Actually, I think I left something back at the house,” you said suddenly, words hurriedly running into each other as they tripped over your tongue on the way out of your mouth. Twisting away from his dangerous touch, you bolted to a stand and hoped he’d attribute the pinkness of your cheeks to being outside in the brightness of the afternoon. Your words came out staggered, the slight tremble in your voice betraying the composure you were fighting so hard to maintain.

Baekhyun’s gaze was careful, if not a little confused. The more his eyes ran over you, the more you were sure that the depth of your feelings towards him were beginning to surface on your face. Another second and he’d be able to tell, he’d figure out the little secret you’d been trying to conceal for the last couple of months. And then you wouldn’t be able to deny its existence anymore.

So you fled, tossing a rushed promise to be right back over your shoulder before scurrying up the bushy path again. Away from the scrutiny of his eyes, away from the truth you did not want revealed to the world. The ghost of his touch lingered between your shoulder blades and along the ridges of your spine, your body already committing to memory the caress of his skin against yours. You realised then, that it would not be possible to continue living on as usual, now that you knew the taste of his closeness, as fleeting as it may have been.

“I think you should just go for it.”

Your fingers tightened around the glass at his words. Chanyeol’s tone was light and pragmatic, speaking as if the act of unfurling your heart were nothing more than a decision about whether to have steak or pork belly for dinner.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoffed, bringing the bottle to your lips.

“I’m serious though,” he continued, nudging your arm with the lip of his own beer. “I think you should just tell him, and see what he says. And stop expecting the worst. You’ll never know how things could turn out if you never do anything.”

You let your head fall back to lean on the doorframe you were both standing against, gazing out at the patio that had begun to darken following the sunset. Baekhyun and Jongin were placed at opposite ends of the ping pong table that had been wheeled out of the living room after dinner, neither seeming to mind the soft prick of grass at the underside of their bare feet. Whether the game was proceeding well was difficult to deduce, since both were sporting wide grins and rosy cheeks, courtesy of the glasses in their hands — but judging by the cluster of orange balls around Baekhyun’s feet, you had an inkling that victory would not be his. He didn’t seem to mind yet, laughing gleefully as Jongin swung his racquet too hard and launched a ball over the fence.

“Not everyone is as good as you when it comes to talking about their feelings, you know,” you said, fixing Chanyeol with a knowing look that was halfway between admiration and resentment. If you only had his courage of expression, perhaps you would’ve put an end to your suffering a while ago. Ripped the band-aid off cleanly instead of peeling away at it, day by day, bit by bit, until it was hanging on by the last of its adhesive. You weren’t sure how much longer your resolve could last, if it would even survive this weekend without snapping under the force of your attraction.

He only shrugged. “You can’t get good without actually doing it.” You pondered his words in the short silence that settled while you both took another sip. He was right, of course, you knew that, but it didn’t make hearing it any easier.

“I think… I’m just scared,” you began slowly. Realising you were about to put his advice into action, Chanyeol turned to you with reassuring and patient eyes, waiting. You took a deep breath, swinging the contents of your bottle back and forth, and continued, “I’m scared that if I do tell him, it’s going to change our relationship and then I’ll lose him completely. At least if I don’t say anything, he’s still my friend, and I get to keep being in his life.”

He regarded you for a moment, brows furrowed thoughtfully, as he decided on his next words. It was no easy feat to try on honesty the way you just did, having so carefully avoided it for your entire life, and he was well aware of it. The slight tremble in your hands was a dead giveaway.

“And I think that’s completely understandable,” he finally said. “There’s always going to be a trade-off, no matter what you choose to do. But I guess you have to weigh up which one means more to you, and if you’re willing to take that risk on the chance that it does work out between you two. I’m only telling you what I think you should do. You’re the one who knows your own feelings the best.”

Another silence fell over the two of you again. Your bottle was nearly empty now, the beer inside already lukewarm from being out of the cooler for too long. Jongin let out a cheer as the ball sailed over his head, landing far behind him on the grass and ignoring Baekhyun’s flagrant attempts at contesting the point. Even under the patio lights, he was still so pretty, cheeks pink and glowy, the shape of his mouth so endearing as it settled into a pout. By now, you were used to the longing, and paid it no mind as it filled your chest with a bittersweet warmth.

“Aren’t you two best friends though?” you asked, the thought suddenly occurring to you. “You’re telling me you don’t know anything about how he feels about… whatever is going on?” The look you gave Chanyeol was suspicious, but he stood strong, resisting your prying eyes.

“I wouldn’t be much of a best friend if I went around blabbing to you about his feelings, would I?” was his response, accompanied by an elusive smile. There was something in his words that lingered in your mind, some important detail you felt as if you had overlooked, but his amused expression gave you nothing to hold onto. “You’re both so clueless,” he chuckled after a beat of your thoughtful silence, downing the rest of his drink.

Baekhyun was skipping over now, having officially lost 18-21 to Jongin, who was heartily celebrating his victory with a series of hoots and giggles. He headed straight for you, hair all messed up from running his hands through it during the game, and a rosy flush to his face, though you weren’t sure if that was from the game or the glass that he had left at the ping pong table. When he wrapped his arms around you and buried his head in your shoulder, you knew that it was probably the latter.

“I lost the game,” he whined, petulant and firm against you. His hair tickled your chin, and you could smell the faint scent of his shampoo from his shower after the beach.

“Are you drunk already?” you asked, trying to mask your breathlessness at his proximity with a few giggles. Baekhyun’s affinity for physical contact was the worst — or best, depending on how you looked at it — when he had alcohol in his system, and it didn’t take much to push him past the borders of sobriety. His ache for touch and affection was most often relieved on you, and you always obliged, gladly and readily letting him take whatever it was he wanted.

The tip of his nose brushed back and forth against your skin as he shook his head. “Just a little, tiny bit,” he said, voice muffled, and you felt the warmth of his breath through your t-shirt.

“Where’s the love for your best friend?” Chanyeol teased, the only one amused at the way Baekhyun had dived straight into your arms without even sparing him a glance.

The boy in your arms didn’t even falter, only snuggling further into you. “You know it’s because she’s my favourite,” he murmured, lips skimming your collarbone ever so softly as he spoke. The panic onset was instantaneous, and you prayed he was too drunk to pick up on the sudden rapid thundering of your heartbeat inside your chest. You tried to look at Chanyeol for help, but he was setting off across the patio, taking up Jongin on his invitation for a match with the promise that he would wipe the floor with the younger boy.

Baekhyun only hummed contentedly, oblivious to the havoc he was wreaking inside you, tightening his hold around you when you made a half-hearted attempt to wriggle out of his arms. His pink lips set into another rounded pout, brows slightly creased as he pulled back to look at you.

“You know you’re my favourite, right?” he asked, trying to be convincing despite the slight slur to his words. You could only nod, letting a small smile twist the corners of your mouth upwards. Whether he realised or meant what he was saying, you weren’t all that concerned, simply happy to bask in the warmth of his full attention knowing it was probably just nonsensical babble brought on by the drink in his belly. It was so much easier to be close to him when he was like this, hazier, and sure to forget most of what he had said the morning afterwards. It didn’t hurt that you were also starting to feel a little blurrier around the edges, the beer from earlier making its way through your system and leaving behind a pleasant fuzziness that made it all the more tempting to come clean about your feelings. But you weren’t quite there yet, and you had no plans to get to that point tonight.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, he curled back up into you. With your hands around his back, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heart, the comfortingly even beat of it through his rib cage. It was so easy to imagine this was the way it had always been, and would always be, so easy to slip into the fairytale you often found yourself fabricating when your one-sided longing became too much to contain. It would be so nice if you could live in this moment forever, you thought. But was this small pocket of peace worth risking your entire friendship?

“I wish you’d stop running away from me,” he murmured, or at least that’s what you thought he said. It was a little difficult to concentrate when his lips were grazing your skin again, lightly feathering across your neck as the words shaped his mouth on their way out of it.

And then you felt it, the unmistakable and deliberate press of his lips against your collarbone, the gentle pressure and the slight moisture on your skin from it searing through you like a lit trail of gasoline. This time, he had to have heard the stilted gasp that escaped your mouth.

He lifted his head slowly to look at you again, searching your face with glassy eyes — for what, you weren’t quite sure. The only things you were sure of right now were the fiery burn in your cheeks, and the deafening pounding of your heart that echoed between your ears.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, though his expression was nowhere near as apologetic as his words would have you believe. If anything, his gaze on you was almost daring, waiting to see how you’d respond, if you’d shrink back into yourself like you always did when he got too close and crossed that invisible boundary you only danced around. If you’d run away from him the way he had just said he wished you wouldn’t. Or if you’d let him push you over too, just this once.

Seeing the hesitation in your face, he slowly extricated from you, retracting his limbs and warmth until they hung limply by his sides again. Scratched the back of his head. Let his eyes wander around the patio and settle on anything except for you.

“I’m going to see if Kyungsoo needs any help with cleaning up,” he said quietly, not waiting for your response as he headed back into the house. The drink had made his gait unsteady, and you felt him sway against the doorframe as he brushed past you. A chilling unease began to settle in the pit of your stomach as you watched him go, the shape of his back getting smaller and smaller as he was swallowed by the light of the living room.

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, and that there was a possibility it had not been in the direction you had hoped for.

Perhaps the second glass of wine had been a little overambitious, you realised, staring up at the ceiling of your shared bedroom. Kyungsoo had been so excited about the 2012 Shiraz he had brought from home, pouring you a full glass with an enthusiasm he didn’t often display. You couldn’t say no, and you didn’t protest when he refilled it a short while later. If he noticed the faster-than-usual speed with which you drained its contents, he did not show it. Whilst alcohol tended to put people to sleep, it had the opposite effect on you, dangling sleep in front of you like a carrot you could never get a hold of easily, or for long. That second glass of wine was the reason you were lying in bed, not soundly asleep like you wished, but keenly aware of every breath and every movement from the other occupant of the room, only an arm’s length away from you.

Baekhyun had spent most of the night with Chanyeol out on the patio, drinking and laughing under the generous light of the moon. Even if he wasn’t purposely avoiding you, you felt his absence from your side sorely. He didn’t say much during the wind down for bed either, only asking if you wanted the curtains fully shut, to which you gave an affirmative. Still, a sliver of moonlight speared through the gap between them, illuminating the room just enough that if you turned your head to the side, you could make out the outline of his body beneath the covers and acquaint yourself with the familiar curve of his nose.

It was only fair that the wine, having taken your sleep, offered something in return to mark an honourable trade. That something manifested itself in the restlessness of your mouth, which battled against the remaining rationality of your mind. Loose-lipped and anxious, you dug your nails into the palm of your hand, willing the war inside your head to approach a ceasefire. You did not want to make a fool of yourself in the intimacy of this small room.

However, your resolve could not last for long, corroded by the hours spent without his presence, without the familiar warmth of his touch, without his little comments meant only for you as he pointed out something silly or poked fun at Jongin’s whining. Barely above a whisper, you called out his name, letting your voice permeate the darkness. It was loud enough that he’d hear it above the silence, but soft enough that he could ignore it if he so wished, and you’d attribute his ignorance to the deepness of sleep.

There was a second of silence, which he followed with an answering hum and a shuffle of his legs on the mattress. He was awake, and he was waiting for you to speak.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked the ceiling.

“No, I’m not mad at you,” was his reply, accompanied by a quiet sigh. He was conversing with the ceiling too, just as reluctant to face you.

Your hands twisted the sheets in dissatisfaction. The even tone of his voice indicated truth, but his answer didn’t explain why he had spent the whole night outside without calling for you even once, when he usually couldn’t last half an hour without pressing into your side and tickling your shoulder to grab your attention.

“Then what?” you probed, cringing at the whiny edge to your voice.

He was quiet for a while, letting your words hang in the air, that for a moment you thought he wouldn’t speak, that your brief conversation had already come to an end, and you’d be left with unanswered questions as bedside companions for the night. There was another rustling from his side of the room as he settled himself under the covers.

“Sometimes, I think I want too much from you,” he finally said. He was quiet, but you heard every word with the clarity as if they had been projected through a stereo system. “And you can’t give me everything I want, but that’s not your fault. It’s an indication of my own greed and selfishness more than anything else.”

You kicked around at your sheets to signal your unrest at his words. “I don’t think you are greedy or selfish. At all. At least not with me.” If anything, you were the selfish one, wanting all his smiles and touches for yourself, wanting the entire spectrum of his existence to only ever be shown to you. Your generosity only ever came to light when it was in service of him, gladly letting him take your attention, your time, allocating space in your mind for him and him only.

Baekhyun only laughed a soft and short laugh at your reply, the sound so different from the usual one filled with boisterous joy that you had grown the most used to. You heard him turn over in his bed to face you. In the quiet darkness of the room, the focus of his gaze flooded over you, and the intensity of it was so blinding you didn’t dare to look away from the smoothness of the ceiling, fearing you’d smoulder into ash the moment you locked eyes with him.

“You know that you are a really important person to me. You know that, right?” he asked, eyes searing into you with the force of a thousand suns. “I mean, everyone else is also important because they’re my friends, but you’re different — you are a special person to me. I don’t see you the way I see Chanyeol, or Jongin, or anyone else.”

His words were still tinged with the slight slur of the beer from out on the patio, but you could feel the delicate care with which they were chosen and spoken. Something was different about tonight. You could taste it in the thick air between the two of you, feel it in the wire-taut tension stretching across the gap between your two twin beds. Your fingers dug into the comforter, willing the turbulence in your chest to subside.

He paused and took a deep breath, as if bracing himself against something devastating. “I don’t want the same things with them as I do with you.”

You held your breath until you felt the pain of deprivation in your chest.

“But I’ve made peace with the fact that what I want from you, and the way I feel about you, are things I’ll have to carry with me. They’re things I have to bear the weight of alone. I don’t — I would never want you to be uncomfortable, or see me differently.” There was a slight catch in his voice at the end.

You didn’t even know if your lungs were still working while you listened to him speak. There was a surrealness to the night, as if everything had been covered in a blanket of haze and everything that was transpiring was the product of a fever-induced dream, existing on an alternate timeline.

Baekhyun… it didn’t even feel right thinking it.

Baekhyun had feelings for you? And he had convinced himself it was one-sided?

“It’s pretty selfish, isn’t it? Asking you to act like things between us won’t change after everything I just said,” he laughed, but there was little humour in the sound. You finally turned your head to look at him, the wry curve of his mouth catching the moonlight as he gazed at you. He was smiling, the shape of it meant to comfort you, but he could not hide the sadness weaved into the downturn of his eyes. He had always been braver than you, perhaps not in the aspect of riding roller-coasters, but certainly in his ability to be honest and open about his emotions, regardless of whether they were good or bad.

It was your turn to be brave now, and shed your own fear to meet him where he stood.

“I’ve been seeing you differently for a while now,” you admitted, turning under the sheets to fully face him. You were grateful for the darkness, hoping that it would conceal the heat creeping up your neck and face, painting your cheeks with a hot blush that accompanied the start of your confession. His brows furrowed slightly as he tried to process your words, confusion settling in the crease between them. You held yourself back from reaching out to smooth them over.

“What do you mean?”

“What makes you think you’re the only one who feels this way?” you asked instead, leaving his question unanswered. There was a tremble in your voice as you spoke, and you were sure he heard it above the quiet of your bedroom. It was the closest you could get to telling him without actually telling him about the silent battle that had been raging in your head for the last few months.

This was it, you thought. He had to know now.

“Am I not?”

The weight of his stare pressed against you, drawing you to him with the tangible pull of gravity. The eyes that roamed your face had replaced their previous confusion with questioning, and a glimmer of something akin to hope. He had never looked more beautiful and devastating than he did right now. You felt the light of dawn breaking over your skin, a promise of something new and good sure to follow. Its warmth simmered within you, staving off the chill of the late summer night with a heat that had you pushing off your covers in a hurried frenzy and rising to sit on the edge of your bed, toes just grazing the floorboards beneath you. Would you still have had the same nerve to face him in the daylight, rough and exposed without the lulling comfort of darkness? Would he still look at you, unpolished and flawed in the clarity of the sun, the same way, with the reverence of man at the sight of an angel?

Baekhyun mirrored you and sat up on his own bed, slowly, as if not wanting to spook you, fearing you’d run off and retreat back into the confined familiarity of your own head. His knees knocked against yours in the small space between your two mattresses. You jolted at the feeling of his skin on yours, having gone without it for so long that the mere touch was like the first drop of water after emerging from the desert. He made to move away, trying to shuffle across the length of the bed, but stilled at the hand you placed just over his knee, willing him to stay put. Surely, he could feel the beat of your heart thrumming through your fingertips.

It was your turn to be brave now.

Fueled by the second glass of Shiraz and the muted encouragement of darkness, before you could second guess yourself and overthink every possible negative outcome of what you were about to do, you closed your eyes and leant towards him. Slowly, inch by inch, until your journey ended with the soft, tentative press of your lips against his. It was short and chaste, nothing more than a gentle pressure, and you pulled back when you felt his lips part in surprise.

“Does that answer your question?” you whispered, heart in your throat.

There it was. You had gone and done it.

His eyes were closed, and in the dim moonlight peeking through the curtain, you could almost make out each of his eyelashes, fluttering dark and soft against the smooth skin of his cheek. For a few seconds, the room was filled only with the sounds of your breathing as you waited for his reaction, for the consequences of your actions and what that meant for your friendship with him.

Then you heard it — his soft laugh, coloured with appreciative disbelief, and felt the air of it caress your face. The corners of his mouth curved upwards into a small, pleased smile. His eyes blinked open slowly, taking you in with a hunger that had desire curling in the pit of your stomach.

“You are just so…” he began, but you never found out just exactly what you were. He was already pulling you back into him, slotting his mouth against yours like they were always made to fit perfectly together. This time, the kiss was anything but chaste, the sheer force of it enough to scorch your insides down to your bones. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush towards him, and your knees parted around his thighs to adjust to the new position. Your own hands found purchase in the softness of the hair at the nape of his neck, desperate for something to anchor yourself to, in fear that the realisation of this moment would somehow make it slip away.

This was what it felt like to stand unafraid and bare in the light of unbridled wanting, to consume and be consumed by a ravenous appetite with no propensity for satiety. When his hands slipped past the hem of your sleep tank, fingertips grazing across the skin of your lower back, you were sure you could erupt into flames. He swallowed the breathy noise that escaped your lips, tongue brushing against yours as he claimed your mouth with his own.

This was what it felt like to hold the sun in the palm of your hand.

When you broke apart to catch your breaths, his eyes were bright, lips plump and swollen, chest heaving beneath your hands. Somehow, you had ended up back on his bed, his head against the pillows, hands under your shirt and keeping you close to him with an unforgiving hold. He was gazing up at you with a devotion that made your heart swell even more than it did pulling oxygen back into your lungs.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” he admitted, hiding his head into the crook of your shoulder. You felt his abashed smile against your skin and wondered how it could be possible that you had contained all of this, the longing, the yearning, inside you for so long.

“How long?” you asked, hearing the smile in your own voice.

“Since Chanyeol’s birthday, when you wore that brown sweater with the little bow on the back.”

Last year, Chanyeol had gotten everyone together at his place for a nice dinner and wine followed by a binge watch of all the Iron Man movies in one sitting. It was all going according to plan until a quarter of the way into the third one, when he began snoring at his own birthday gathering. The bowl of popcorn was sliding out of his hands and sure to make a buttery mess all over the rug, and that’s when the rest of you decided to turn the television off and call it a night. Sehun and Jongin tasked themselves with getting the birthday boy into bed, and likely collapsed onto it with him immediately after, while Baekhyun had offered you the couch, assuring you he’d be fine with the blankets on the floor. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it. As chaotic as he could be, Baekhyun was nothing if not kind, and you had been grateful that his kindness had always extended to you over the three years you had known each other.

“But that was more than half a year ago. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

His fingers prodded into your sides, eliciting a few choked giggles from you. “I didn’t know how you’d react. You know you’re not the most expressive person on the planet,” he said dryly. “Or the most observant. I literally frenched your collarbone and you’re telling me you didn’t realise I liked you more than as a friend?”

“Okay, well when you put it like that,” you huffed, feeling the vibrations of his laugh through his chest. “But you really didn’t know I had feelings for you? Chanyeol never said anything?”

His movements stilled, leaning back into the pillows so he could lock eyes with you again. “You talk to Chanyeol about me?” he asked, to which you nodded sheepishly. “Since when?”

“Last month, Jongdae’s housewarming. He fished it out of me after dinner,” you sighed, picturing his smug grin under the lights of Jongdae’s fancy new kitchen when you realised that you had slipped up and let him in on your little secret.

“But I talk to him about you.”

You looked at each other for another beat, realisation breaking over the both of you, before dissolving into another fit of disbelieving giggles. Maybe Park Chanyeol did know how to keep his mouth shut after all.

“So he’s a terrible wingman, is what I’m getting out of this whole thing,” Baekhyun chuckled, rolling you over so you were now lying on your side, face to face with him. He planted a slow, sweet kiss on your lips, taking his time to acquaint himself with the shape and taste of your mouth, and you felt the contentment of his smile against you. “I can’t believe we could have gotten together a month ago. Some best friend he is.”

“Gotten together?” you echoed, one eyebrow raised in feigned dispute, delighting in the way his sweet mouth settled into the pout that you adored.

“You mean to tell me that you don’t want to be with me after your tongue was all up in my mouth?”

You pushed his face away, groaning, “Gross, don’t say it like that.” He, however, had different plans, hooking a calf behind your knees and tugging you back into him, before weaving the other leg in between your own.

“You know you like it,” he murmured into your neck, squeezing his arms around you just in case you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. One hand traced absent-minded circles over the grooves of your spine as he breathed you in, warm and familiar against your chest.

Yes, you thought, you’d risk any and everything for this exact moment. It was worth all the doubt and heartache, all the time spent replaying those moments in your head, unsure of the meaning behind his actions. You could be sure of it now.

“I do,” you agreed, threading your fingers through the softness of his hair. “I probably more than like you,” you added, tilting his face upwards to steal another kiss, giddy and chest swelling with affection. Perhaps you weren’t quite yet ready for that other four letter word, but you had no doubt you would be one day, and soon. He was all too willing to comply, letting his mouth mould against yours with the poise and patience of a saint.

“I probably more than like you too,” he replied, punctuating his confession with one final kiss to the tip of your nose. It was enough for the serene smile on your face to persist, even past the arrival of sleep.

“I knew it.”

You cracked one eye open, trying to adjust to the light flooding in through the open door to your room. Chanyeol stood at the foot of your bed, grinning from ear to ear with what could only be described as a look of triumph as he took in the scene before him. The boy next to you stirred lightly, digging his face deeper into the pillow, reluctant to leave the realm of the sleeping. Chanyeol was not in the least sympathetic to his friend’s struggles, striding over to the window and pulling back the curtains with a clang. You winced as the full force of the morning sun barged in, and Baekhyun let out a soft noise of displeasure at the intrusion.

“I fucking knew it,” Chanyeol said again, quickly bringing you to your senses as you registered the weight of another body on top of your own. You made to remove yourself from him, fighting the flush creeping up your neck and face, but it was an effort which proved futile as he only tightened the arm around your waist, loath to let you go.

“Can you be quiet? You’re going to wake the whole house,” you hushed, finally succeeding in untangling your legs from Baekhyun’s, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately.

“They’re already up. I came to call you for breakfast,” Chanyeol replied, the grin seemingly stuck to his face. “Which actually reminds me,” he began, before sticking his head out of the doorway to holler, “You better pay up, Jongin. And you too, Kyungsoo!”

“You bet on us?” came the groggy voice from the pillows behind you.

“What the hell, Chanyeol? I thought you said you didn’t go around blabbing about his feelings!” you exclaimed, indignant.

“To you. I never said anything about telling anyone else,” was his reply, smug and victorious at having outsmarted you.

Kyungsoo appeared in the doorway, donning a flour-covered apron, as if to confirm for himself that he was in fact a debtor to the taller boy. “Even if he didn’t say anything, it wasn’t all that hard to figure out,” he said lightly, surveying the room with curiosity and paying no mind to the shock painted on your face. How had everybody known about your now not-so-secret crush on Baekhyun except for the man himself? “Anyways, I only said that it would be unlikely to happen over this weekend, not that it was impossible. So Jongin is the only loser. Now come for pancakes.” And with that, he headed back towards his bowl of batter on the kitchen counter, chuckling at the sound of Jongin’s complaints against fulfilling his end of the wager.

Baekhyun, having somewhat freed himself from the clutches of sleep, rose to a sitting position and shot a drowsy scowl at his friend. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that right?”

But even the expletive could not put a damper on Chanyeol’s mood, his smile never slipping. “You two should honestly be thanking me,” he said, to which you also shot him a glare. “Also, I’m happy for you and everything, but can you please keep the PDA to a minimum in front of the rest of us? I will lock you out of the house if you don’t.”

Baekhyun turned to you, the creases of the frown on his face slowly but surely smoothing out as he took you in, cheeks puffy and hair a mess from having just woken up. He had seen you in worse states, and definitely in better states, but none of that seemed to matter as he regarded you with nothing but fondness in his eyes. You were sure that your expression mirrored his, affection spreading throughout your entire body, reaching even the tips of your fingers and toes, at the sight of his tousled bed head, the sleepy droop of his eyes, the sweet pinkness of his lips.

The sun was yours. There was no feasible way to stop the smile from blooming across your entire face.

“No promises.”

#baekhyun #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #exo x reader #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun au #exo au #exo fluff #kaleidohscopic works baekhyun

186 notes · View notes

lunatiics · 29 days

Text

pretty girls (pt. 3) | planymphia

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Act like it never happened in another world... until Jane doesn't have to anymore.

A/N: This is kind of rushed? But I had a burst of inspiration, and so here it is! Also, if it wasn't obvious, this whole fic is very heavily Pretty Girls by Reneé Rapp-coded, especially this part.

Part 1 Part 2

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Nymphia?” Morphine asked.

It was bound to happen at some point. Jane knew that. She had gotten through most of the day without a single comment about her little heartfelt outburst the night before, but when Morphine had parked their makeup next to Jane’s, she knew her luck had run out.

Luckily, Jane had had the majority of the day to prepare a perfect answer for if—when—she was asked about it. Knowing how nosy her sisters were, it was just a matter of time. And, per usual, she was right.

“It’s just for the cameras,” Jane said, the script spilling off her lips so easily she almost convinced herself. “You know how the fans love this shit. They’ll eat it up.”

“I don’t know…” Morphine pursed their lips. “I’ve seen you do that before. And this is, well, it’s similar. But it’s also different. You’ve been acting different.”

Jane rolled her eyes as cooly as she could. “You need to focus on yourself, Miss No Wins. Stop worrying about me. Not that I can blame you. I’d be obsessed with me, too.”

She was being defensive. She was being so obvious, and she knew it. But she couldn’t help herself. Throwing up her walls was all she knew. All the preparation in the world couldn’t break the habit.

Morphine laughed, but their face was still soft and fixed on Jane. “I’m not worried. It’s nice to see you like this. You seem…”

“What?” Jane asked, packing eyeshadow onto her eyelid and trying to keep her hand from shaking.

Morphine shrugged. “Happier.”

Jane scoffed. She racked her brain for something, anything, to say in response. But she couldn’t deny it. She was happier, and it was obvious, especially after last night. Nymphia made her happier. Nymphia made her want to be better. It was petrifying and devastating but at the end of the day, still true.

Jane sighed. The words came out before she could stop them. “Well, she hasn’t spoken to me all day. So I wouldn’t get too used to it.”

That was true, too. Nymphia hadn’t so much as shot a glance Jane’s way all day. Jane had positioned herself as far away from Nymphia as possible, avoided her as best she could, so she couldn’t even blame Nymphia for doing the same. But still, Jane’s worst fears had been confirmed. Jane had probably been too obvious, and it had scared Nymphia away, like Jane had scared everyone else she cared about in her life away. Maybe she just wasn’t meant to get close to people. Maybe she just wasn’t meant to have that kind of—

“Are you two talking about me?” Jane jumped as Nymphia appeared over her shoulder, her hands snaking around her waist. Even from the light touch, Jane felt like her entire body had been electrified.

But even more overwhelming was the fact that Nymphia was there, behind her, touching her. They hadn’t spoken all day, much less looked at each other, and now they were tucked against each other—through Nymphia’s own doing, thank you very much. Nymphia tucked her chin in between Jane’s shoulder and neck, a small smile on her face, and her eyes lasered into Jane’s in the mirror. Jane was frozen, one hand holding a makeup brush suspended in the air and the other hand (she wasn’t even sure how it got there) caressing Nymphia’s, which was folded around her body. The werkroom disappeared, time stopped, and she and Nymphia were floating in a world made for the two of them, where they belonged.

It took all of Jane’s willpower not to collapse ito the ground. But she managed to do what she did best: she slapped on a bitchy smirk and put on her best unaffected air. “I would never talk about you. Wouldn’t even cross my mind,” she quipped, her voice shaking the tiniest amount.

Nymphia pressed her lips together in amusement and pulled herself away from Jane. She winked before walking back to her station. “Keep on pretending, pretty girl.” She said over her shoulder.

Pretty girl.

Morphine’s mouth hung open. Jane thought she could die right there.

—

Nymphia was hugging Jane as if her life depended on it, and Jane never wanted her to let go.

Of course, Jane had given Nymphia her immunity potion. Of course, Nymphia hadn’t actually needed it. Of course, Jane did it anyway.

It was the only thing she could think of to express how much she believed in Nymphia, wanted her to succeed, to show her beauty, talent, and effervescence to the world. Even if it cost Jane her spot on the show and the safety and security of immunity. It didn’t matter. Nymphia was worth it.

“Thank you,” Nymphia said into Jane’s hair. “I know what that meant to you.”

They had just walked off stage, and Nymphia hadn’t been able to contain herself; she had thrown her arms around Jane in the hallway to the lounge, in front of the PAs, all the girls, and even a few cameras. But Jane didn’t care. She wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped in the girl that made her feel like home, that made the world seem brighter, better, and a place she belonged.

“I was so scared you’d never talk to me again,” Jane whispered.

Nymphia pulled slightly away to look into Jane’s eyes. “What? Why would you think that?”

Jane stared at the ceiling, her hands absent-mindedly running up and down Nymphia’s arms, which were draped over Jane’s shoulders.

“You seemed like you needed space,” Nymphia continued. “I didn’t want to freak you out even more. And I honestly…” She smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t know what to say. You know I’m not the best with my words.”

Jane laughed and looked back at Nymphia tenderly. “I know.”

“But it’s us.” Nymphia smiled. “I knew everything would work out, even if we didn’t say anything.”

Us. Jane felt like her soul had left her body. “I hoped so. I really hoped so. I just couldn’t tell what you were feeling or if it was real… I mean, what I feel about you… I’ve never—”

She was grasping for words, trying to find language to articulate feelings that seemed so insurmountable and unfitting for a mere sentence. But Nymphia saved her from having to explain herself as she pressed her lips against Jane’s.

Jane froze. It had felt like time had stopped when they touched. And when they finally kissed, it felt like the world stopped. Compared to everyone Jane had been with before, Nymphia was in a whole other universe.

Jane had dreamed about kissing Nymphia. Dreamed about doing everything with her, from waking up together to taking on the world. But nothing in her fantasies could have prepared her for the real thing, how perfect Nymphia felt, tasted, was. She was more than pretty. She was magnificent.

Nymphia’s hands found their way to Jane’s face, holding her like she was precious and delicate, someone deserving of the love Nymphia could give. As Jane sank into Nymphia’s touch, she started to believe she actually might be worthy of receiving it.

“I know,” Nymphia said against Jane’s lips. “You don’t have to say it. I know.”

#planymphia #rpdr 16 #yearning is so in

40 notes · View notes

lidiasloca · 1 year

Note

Can you pls write a fic of the folk of the air in the bomb or roach pov, just one of them third wheeling Jude and Cardan.

I have to tell her that I love her (jurdan fic)

During TWK

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

“Liliver?” I hear someone call as they knock hard on the door. I leave the plants on the table and I hear another impatient knock.

“I’m amidst the making of a potion for the Queen.” I shout to the voice outside.

When I hear no response, I walk to the door and open it. In front of me, I see a young-looking knight I recognize from the High King’s guard. I frown, asking with my eyes. “It’s the King.” He says.

I sigh, knowing all too well what he wants from me. Nothing less than immediately curing the High Queen, who had fallen yesterday, almost from the sky, after I shot her, having had quite a deadly fight that had left her very much wounded not long before. Yes, he wants me to do that as soon as possible.

“Where is he?” I ask, clearly irritated, which makes the knight's gaze narrow in accusation to my arrogance for calling him in such a discourteous way. I care not.

“The High King of Elfhame is in the throne room with the Living Council.” I nod with nothing more to say, and start walking.

On my way there I can’t help thinking about him, Cardan, and how he’s been acting lately. I know he’s worried and stressed and sad and all that, but he must understand that even with his royalness, there is no amount of power that’ll make Jude wake up earlier or healthier, but whenever I try to make him understand so, he denies the thought.

I really miss when the Queen was in charge.

Finally, I get to my destination. I open the doors and among all the Council, I see Cardan having a private conversation with who I think is Randalin.

I’m fairly close to them when the King notices me and waves the man away in a rude way that makes me smirk slightly. Randalin seems offended when he snorts, but he parts anyway.

“Liliver.” It is more of a question the way he says it, so I answer with, “You called for me?”

I can’t help but linger my eyes on his face, not for other reason rather than his considerable bad state. Beautiful or not, everyone can see how tired he is, even sick-looking some would say.

His hesitant voice wakes me up from distant thoughts, “I did. I wanted to talk about something."

He takes a few steps to me. His eyes going for a second behind me, probably checking the Living Council members, who are all too busy talking with each other.

“I wanted to talk with you about something, something that could help my wife.” His wife. As if I didn’t know Jude myself. "Vivienne, her sister, mentioned something about human healers.” I didn’t think he’d go delusional. Not so quick.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He says, mustering a royal tone that doesn't match his desperate eyes.

I stay silent for a moment. I don’t want to hurt him into reality, but I think he’ll be better if he assumes his hand before he has to play. “Cardan, you have to stop this, it’s not good for you. You have to believe she’ll be fine and not force it.”

I’d say he's angry, but then his face turns sorrowful. It surprises me, and I fear the King crying in front of his intimate Council will only shatter the hope that’s been put on the crown to show strength facing the war.

“But will she?” He asks, and as I think about what to say, I take his arm and lead him to the secret room behind the dais to give us some privacy. He smiles sadly as we enter the room, and I’m confused enough to ask.

“It’s not the best choice for a room to put me in, not if you wanted to soothe me.” He answers, making me more confused, his gaze, though, is asking for a change of subject, so I contently obey.

“Cardan, you clearly have a lot going on, we all do, so do yourself a favor and talk to me. I can help you, you know? I could give you advice, put you in place, kill who you ask me to, but you need to talk to someone, and I’m a good option,” I say pretty fast, almost in a breath.

He opens his mouth to talk. He says nothing, though, so he closes it again.

Silent seconds pass, and then he says very low, “It could work. They are more familiar with human sickness.”

It takes me a moment to realize that he’s talking about the human healers he mentioned, and that he has totally ignored my previous speech.

I sigh and walk to the couch to sit. I gesture him to join me. “Oh, no. I can’t. Not on that couch.”

I frown and ask, "What do you mean, you can’t?" And then, the High King of Elfhame blushes in front of me. He blushes and I understand nothing. I’m about to ask, but then he shakes his head. End of subject, I guess.

After some seconds, he walks a bit closer to me and says, “Yes,” He says, “I do need someone to talk to.” I smile amicably, feeling triumphant that I might have convinced him.

“So, you’re finally willing to tell me what’s going on with Jude.” His eyebrows go up as if shocked. I’ll think him not too bright if he can’t really believe I know there is something between them two.

“You mean, what’s going on with Jude being severely injured? The High Queen of Elfhame being severely injured?” He asks flatly, believing me not to be too bright.

“No, I mean, what’s going on with you being this sorrowful because of Jude being injured, as if she hadn’t been injured every hour of every day since we know her.”

He looks taken aback, like if he didn't know that already. “I don't think you understand. The Queen, a great model for Elfhame, is severely injured, just now, that we are at war, and that makes our land very vulnerable. That is what’s going on.” He explains, like talking to a kid.

I’m beginning to get mad, but then... I know him enough to know he’s just trying to avoid the real talk by being his rudest self.

I put the heels of my hands covering my eyes, my elbows resting in exhaustion on my knees. I can’t believe how, in the middle of a war, my biggest problem still is the feelings of the High King. “Cardan, you can’t really think I don’t know, can’t you? Just don’t act stupid in front of me, please.”

He keeps himself silent too long, so I look up at him and continue, “You and Jude! Oh, please. Don’t make that face. There is something between you two.” I’m almost shouting, and I wonder where the limits of our friendship lie, because, friendly or not, he’s still the King.

I think he finally surrenders when he says faintly, “How can you know?” I laugh.

“How? Cardan, the way you look at her. The way you keep asking news about her. The way the land had turned dull when you exiled her. The way you are in constant pain because she is in pain. It’s everywhere and it’s obvious.”

For a moment, I can’t help but think of Van, him, who I wish I could say all of this.

But, then, I don’t know what exactly is that Cardan feels. “Tell me, do you-” I immediately stop when I pay attention to him, whose about to cry eyes warn me.

“I do.” He finishes for me, his tone as vulnerable as serious. “I do love her.”

I’m stupidly surprised, since I knew that he did love her, but I didn’t expect he’d admit it.

I stand up and come closer to him, feeling the need to reassure him, because I do know what he’s going through, and I think I need this myself. I put my hand on his wrist, making him look down at me.

Before I can say nothing, he states, “But I can’t tell her that now, and that’s my fault.” I close my eyes at the guilt in his words

I try my best with my choice of words when I tell him, “Cardan, she’ll wake when she will. There is no forcing her body to cure itself faster.”

He stares at me, his expression blank. I expect him to discard the thought, to end the conversation or to stay silent, but then he just nods. Sadness in the way he does so, sadness in his eyes as if with acceptance.

I force myself to continue, “But you know she’ll be fine, right? Because she will.” He looks up at me and gives me a smile that’s not too honest.

“She better be, because I have to tell her," he says eventually. “I have to tell her that I love her.”

-Characters by Holly Black

I'm planning to do one in the Roach's POV when both Jude and Cardan are present, (which was probably more like what the request was about), but I just had this headcanon where Cardan (who has befriended the court of shadows), talks to his friend, the Bomb, after Jude's fall, and yk, he just opens up a bit.

#jurdan #jude and cardan #jurdan headcanon #the folk of the air #thefolkoftheair #jurdan canon #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jude and cardan headcanon #i miss jude and cardan #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #cardan x jude #jurdan fic #jude and cardan fic #jurdan fanfic #the cruel prince #jude x cardan

87 notes · View notes

eddiemunsonspantschain · 2 years

Text

Teasing - E.M

Pairing: Eddie Munson x glasses wearing!Reader

Warnings: Teasing by the Hellfire boys, smut, oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it up,bitches), cream pie (again,wrap it up), 18+ only minors will be zapped out of here by the power of Thor

Reader has bad vision but usually wears contacts to avoid being teased. One day, reader loses a contact and is forced to wear their glasses to Hellfire.

You do not have permission to copy, translate or copy my fics onto another website

Hanging out with a bunch of boys wasn’t all it cracked up to be sometimes. While Eddie was the easiest on me the other Hellfire boys were less so. Their teasing never went too far and usually if it seemed to be heading towards too much Eddie was quick to shut them up. Besides, I got my fair few shots in against the boys. Sometimes with Eddie’s assistance. It was Friday, so there was Hellfire tonight. The new freshmen were doing well in their first campaign with Eddie and I could see the adoration on their faces when they looked at him. They had been so nervous and eager when they joined the club but I was proud that Eddie had picked them up. Being a freshman was hard enough as it is. Those two never really got into poking fun at me. Possibly, in fear of Eddie.

One subject that I had been teased for in the past was clothing. Sometimes when I wore a skirt they would poke fun at me being girly despite the fact I wore tights with them every time. So I had vowed to never, ever wear my glasses to school. On weekends at home I had my glasses but anytime I went out I had my contacts in. I knew the jokes would come if the guys saw my glasses. I didn’t even want to think about what Eddie would think about them. The crush I had on him wouldn’t be able to handle it if he teased me for my glasses. None of them even knew I had bad vision since I always had contacts in. I went to great lengths to make sure I had an extra pair in my bag in case anything happened.

Today felt like any other day. Besides the fact that my contacts were a bit uncomfortable. They were old. I had to switch them out but I had no more pairs at home and didn’t want to touch my emergency pair. After school once Eddie dropped me home I’d be back in my glasses again anyway and mom should have more pairs for me by then. All through the day though the contacts were uncomfortable. I rubbed my eyes a few times, trying to get them to feel less irritated but it only helped mildly before they were uncomfortable again.

The day was almost over at least. I was fed up with the feeling of the contacts though and decided to flush them with a bit of water. That sometimes helped. Before my next class I pushed into the girls bathroom and put my bag on the ground. I washed my hands well before going for my eye. I gently pushed down on the contact, moving it until it popped out before turning the tap on gently. I gently rinsed the small lens in the water before lifting it to put it back into my eye. As I did, the contact rolled and fell off of my finger right into the flowing water of the sink.

“No!” The contact slipped right down into the drain. “Shit!” I whined, shutting off the tap. I grabbed my bag, moving to the sink beside the one I used and placing my bag in it. I rooted around in the inner pocket for my spare contacts and froze. They weren’t there. “What the fuck?” I wondered out loud, frantically looking in each pocket. The contacts were nowhere to be seen. I blinked, trying to remember when I had used them. Two weeks ago. When I told mom I needed another pair. I had to use them as my last pair. I groaned, running my hands over my face. I looked around. Half my vision was fine, half was blurry. I couldn’t play D&D like this. I’d be having to close one eye all the time to even see across the board. I sighed, slowly reaching into the backpack and pulling out my glasses. I always took them with me to school in case something dumb like this ever happened. I reached into my other eye, pulling the contact out and tossing it into the trash. I sighed, unfolding my glasses and sliding them onto my face. I quickly put my bag on my back and left the bathroom.

—-----------------------------------------

It was a miracle I saw none of the guys during my last two classes. I didn’t have those classes with any of them but I hadn’t run into any of them in the hallways. I knew there was no saving me for Hellfire. If I tried to make an excuse not to play, it would make them curious and Eddie would be concerned. If I didn’t show up at all I’d probably have Eddie at my house coming to check on me. There was no point. So when it came time for Hellfire, I slowly made my way to the drama room. Never before had I been hesitant to go to Hellfire. I pushed the door open, descending into the Hellfire room and going to my seat at Eddie’s left. The boys were chatting as per usual. I sat down and took out my binder for D&D, realizing it had gone quiet. When I looked up all the boys were staring at me.

“What?” I asked them.

“Who are you?!” Jeff immediately screamed.

I rolled my eyes at the giggles at the table. The only one not there was Eddie which meant I was doomed for right now. “Jeff, stop!” I whined.

“What’s your name, stranger?”

“You know my name, asshole. Y/N.” I snapped.

“Noooo our Y/N doesn’t have four eyes. Just two.” Gareth giggled as he tapped the side of my frames.

I swatted at his hand. “Fuck off, Emerson.” I grumbled.

“I think they look nice…” Dustin cut in quietly, shrinking a little under the gaze of Gareth, Jess and Aaron.

“Thank you, Dustin.” I told him with a small smile. The kid was sweet and at least him and Mike wouldn’t bother me.

The door to the Hellfire room opened. “Sorry, guys. Had to hit the bathroom.” Eddie announces as he walked around the long table to get to his throne.

“Dungeon Master, we have an intruder.” Aaron snickered to himself.

“Or it’s a doopleganger.” Gareth added. I crossed my arms over my chest and scoffed.

“I think I’m on Eddie’s team for the rest of this campaign. Fuck you guys. I’m only helping Dustin and Mike.” I snapped at them, not even risking looking at Eddie.

It seemed I had no choice when calloused fingers gently grabbed my chin and turned my head. Eddie smiled softly and shrugged. “I think it looks cute.” He answered, letting go of my chin.

“Cute?” Jeff questioned with a raised brow.

“Yeah. Cute. Kinda sexy even. Like a sexy librarian vibe.” Eddie told him, “And considering that Y/N is the most attractive one at this table besides yours truly every day, I think you all should zip it.” Eddie looked at me and smirked. “Happy to have you on my team though, princess. Now, let’s get playing.”

I tried to ignore the fire in my face.

—------------------------------------------------------------

True to my word, I didn’t help Gareth, Jeff or Aaron at all that evening. I only helped Dustin and Mike. It even resulted in Jeff’s character dying in the campaign. I grinned at him accompanying Eddie’s devious cackle as he knocked Jeff’s character figurine over. He gave Jeff a simple: perhaps you shouldn’t piss off your healer.

After the game was over, the guys said goodbye and headed out with their things. I stayed behind like usual to help Eddie cleanup from the night. I packed away my things before grabbing a trash bag and tossing cans of soda alongside candy wrappers into it. “Thank you for the help with the guys, by the way. You didn’t have to go so far with what you said but I appreciate the backup.” I told Eddie as I leaned across the table to grab an empty can.

Eddie stopped his movements as he folded up the playing field. “What?” He asked me.

I figured that what Eddie had said was just said in exaggeration to get the guys off of my back. Not that any of it was actually true. I shrugged my shoulders. “The whole sexy thing that you said. I know you were just trying to get the guys off of my back.” I murmured.

Eddie stared back at me before gently setting down the playing field. He walked around the table, taking the bag of garbage from me. “Y/N, Y/N,” He sighed. I squeaked as suddenly I was lifted onto the table. I looked up at Eddie curiously. He nudged my knees apart, standing between them. His lips slotted against mine quickly. His kiss was harsh and heated, sending my head spinning as I kissed him back. His hands gently rested on my hips, tongue teasing against my lower lip. I whimpered, a growl coming from deep in Eddie’s chest in response. He pulled away for a second before leaning in, teeth nipping at my lower lip. “I meant every word. God, you know how often the guys tease me about you?” He chuckled, “The glasses are doing it for me, babe. You look so fucking hot in them. You always do. The guys have been on my ass about doing something for ages.” He admitted, a pink flush settling over his cheeks. His thumbs gently rubbed at my hips. He smiled softly, reaching and pushing my glasses up on top of my head before kissing me slower and deeper this time. I reached up, gently taking his face in my hands as I kissed him back. His body pressed closer as I wiggled towards the edge of the table more to feel his body against mine.

“Took you long enough.” I mumbled against his lips, smiling when he laughed.

“Is it better to move the glasses before I kiss you or what?” He asked, placing gentle kisses on my lips.

“Definitely move them. Don’t want them in the way.” I answered, “Not that I plan on wearing them around you guys regularly now. Not after that.”

“Not even if I give you something every time you wear them?”

“Like a kiss?”

“Mm, something like that.” He grinned, pressing a gentle kiss against my throat before one of his hands teased my inner thigh.

A gasp left my lips and heat settled over my face. “Eddie,” I breathed, whining at the kiss to my throat again.

“God, please do that again.” He groaned and picked his head back up to kiss me deeply.

“You know how to make it happen again.” I challenged before thinking about it.

A second later Eddie was on his knees. “I’ve been waiting so long to do this,” He grinned up at me, pulling at the laces on my sneakers before pulling them off of my feet.

“Oh, my god.” I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re that eager?”

“Yes!” Eddie answered, kissing my knee gently. “If it’s going too fast-”

“Eddie,”

“Yeah?”

“Keep going.”

Eddie stared at me before a grin spread over his lips, his hands moving to the button of my jeans and popping them open before working the jeans down over my thighs. “God, I love your fucking thighs. Just wanna bite them.” He groaned softly, nuzzling his face against my inner thigh. A second later, his teeth sank into the supple flesh and I moaned. His warm tongue laved over the new indentations in my skin. He then worked his way up, leaving behind kisses and tiny bites on my thighs as he moved. I opened my legs wider, leaning back on my hands as I watched him. I bit my lip, groaning softly as he pressed a kiss over my clothed pussy. A second later his teeth latched onto the waistband of my panties, tugging them down. His hands sought out the back of them and I lifted my ass off the table so he could remove them further. Eddie moved down, still using his mouth as he got my panties off of my ankles. When he sat up, they were still between his teeth. He took them from his teeth and grinned, shoving them into his front pocket.

“I’m never getting those back, huh?” I asked and he shook his head.

“Nope.” He laughed before moving back between my thighs. His nose nuzzled against my thigh and he groaned softly. “Such a pretty thing. Fuck, I coulda been doing this for so long. I’m gonna have to make up for lost time, princess.” Eddie babbled, his finger moving between my folds. A soft whine left my lips as I wiggled my hips, needing more. He spread my wetness over my folds and gently over my clit before leaning in and licking a long stripe from my needy hole to the sensitive bundle of nerves. I gasped at the feeling of his tongue against me. Then it was like he was a starving man. His tongue quickly lapped between my legs, devouring me like he had never had food in his fucking life. The whines and moans fell louder from my lips as I rocked my hips against his face. Eddie’s hands tightly gripped my thighs, trying to prevent me from going too far from him with my movements. One hand disappeared from my leg and his finger quickly sank into me. I squealed his name, ignoring the chuckle the sound I made pulled from him. He pumped his finger in time with his tongue flicking across my clit. My body felt hot as my orgasm careened toward me faster and faster. My chest heaved, feeling over stimulated and at the same time wanting more from him at once.

“Eddie!” I whined, “P-Please, I need- I need-” I gasped, unable to get the words out. Eddie’s head lifted from between my thighs and looked at me curiously.

“Tell me what you need, baby. I’ll give it to you.” He purred, “You’re being so good for me.”

“Y-You, please. Please!” I gasped.

Eddie was on his feet in a second. His finger pulled from me and I whined at the loss. Said finger was in his mouth a second later, groaning as he sucked my juices off of his finger. “Fuck, princess. You taste like Heaven.” He groaned, kissing me hard.

I moaned against his lips, immediately pawing at his jeans. I found the hard outline of his cock through his jeans, gently rubbing it as my other hand popped the button of his jeans open.I smirked as he moaned against my lips, his hips moving forward looking for more. I pulled down his zipper a second later before using both hands to tug his jeans down. His tongue tangled with mine as I parted my lips, groaning tasting myself on his tongue. I pushed his boxers down, feeling his hands help me push both offending materials down further to expose his length to me. My hand immediately found him, stroking him slowly. I grinned as Eddie broke our kiss and moaned, head tilting down onto my shoulder as he cursed. I gently nudged him back before leaning down, letting a glob of spit free to run down his length. I gathered my spit, using it to work his length with my hand.

“Jesus Christ, baby.” Eddie groaned, watching my hand work along his length. He lifted his head, gripping my chin again as he had before. “Open.” He growled. I opened my mouth, sticking my tongue out for him. He leaned in and spat into my mouth. “Swallow it. There ya go, good girl.” He groaned as he watched me swallow it. “You’re mine. All mine, my dirty girl. Fuck, such a good girl.” He groaned, kissing me hard. “I need to be in you, princess. Please? Let daddy in.” He breathed against my lips.

“Please, please Eddie.” I moaned, my hand working him quicker. Eddie quickly moved my hand off of his length. He grabbed at my thighs, pulling my legs around his hips. He reached back between us, teasing the red tip of his leaking cock against my folds before pushing into me. A choked moan left my lips at the feeling of Eddie stretching my walls. I had never felt so full before in my life.

“There ya go, sweetheart. Taking me so fucking good. Like I was fucking made to be inside you.” He moaned, scattering kisses across my chest and neck before searching out my lips again. I panted against his lips, adjusting to his size. I whimpered and shifted my hips after a few seconds, reaching for his Hellfire shirt.

“Off.” I whimpered, tugging at the offending material before nipping at his lower lip.

Eddie breathed a laugh and quickly shed his Hellfire shirt. “Scratch me up, sweetheart. I wanna see angry red lines on my back cause of you.” He purred, kissing me deeply. His hips pulled back and I moaned at the feeling of him moving inside me. A second later his hips snapped back into mine, burning himself deeply in me again. Eddie started a relentless pace, the table under us squeaking in protest at his movements.

As Eddie had requested, my hands found home at his shoulder blades as my arms tucked against his ribs. One of his hands rested on the groaning table while his other gripped the underside of my thigh hard enough I thought it’d leave bruises. I moaned his name in his ear, cursing as his length pushed into my relentlessly. I felt my face flush hearing his soft pants and moans as he thrusted harder into me. I cursed, digging my nails into his skin at the change and whined. The tightness coiling in my belly was getting tighter and tighter as he fucked me into the table. “Fuck, Eddie. I’m gonna cum, baby. Please,” I moaned, rocking my hips against his as he thrusted roughly into me. “You feel so good inside me, handsome. I wanna feel you cum inside me.” I whined, grinning at the look on his face.

“Fuck me, princess. You can’t talk to me like that, I’ll blow my load right now.” He whined, hair wild and pupils blown out with lust. His plush lips were red from all the kisses shared between us. He pressed his forehead against mine. “You want me to cum in you, baby? You need to cum for me first.” He growled softly, pulling his head from mine. He reached between us and my hips bucked up at the feeling of his thumb circling over my clit. I whined his name, feeling him hit that spot inside of me that made me see stars. I cried out his name as my orgasm washed over me seconds later, my nails dragging down across his back down to his ass. I gripped it hard as he fucked into me harder, my name falling from his lips as I bit my lip hard to keep quiet. My walls fluttered around his length and I watched as his thrusts grew sloppy. “You came so good for me, baby. God damn, I’m-” His words dissolved into a throaty moan. I gripped his ass harder as my legs fell off of him fully, urging him into me as I silently begged him for what I asked for. Eddie’s hips stuttered as warmth filled me, my name falling from his lips in a delicious moan as he used me to milk all he had into me until he stilled.

The only sound in the room now was the two of us panting as we tried to catch our breaths. All I could see was Eddie, literally. I forgot he had moved my glasses. I reached up for them, feeling nothing on top of my head. I turned to look behind me and Eddie laughed. He reached behind me and produced my glasses, gently putting them back on my face. “I didn’t even notice you knocked those off my head.” I murmured with a shy smile.

“Oops,” He chuckled, kissing me gently. “Fuck,” He breathed when he pulled back and looked at me. “I’m serious, babe. The glasses are…fuck.” He murmured, biting his lower lip as he looked at me.

I felt my face turn red, tucking my face against his neck and whining softly. “Stop!” I laughed, wrapping my legs back around him.

“I won’t. I’ll tell you how hot and adorable you are every fucking day… If you’ll have me.” Eddie murmured, pressing an assault of kisses against my head and shoulder.

I pulled back from his neck, adjusting my glasses on the bridge of my nose before huffing at him. “Eddie.” I motioned between us, “Of course I’ll have you.”

Eddie barked out a laugh and I rolled my eyes. “I thought I’d check this wasn’t a one off.”

“No, you’re stuck with me.” I nodded firmly and grinned.

“Good.” Eddie grinned, kissing me lovingly.

As he pulled free from me we both groaned at the sensation. A second later Eddie was cleaning himself off using my panties before tucking himself into his jeans and the panties back into his pocket. He ran out of the room and came back with some wet and dry paper towels. I held my hand out for them and he swatted it away, stepping between my legs and starting to clean me. I blushed at his kindness, especially as he commented something about how it was his mess and he’d clean it. After he finished cleaning me, he tossed the paper towels and looked at me. I blushed at the smile that appeared on his face and soon his eyes drifted down my body before realization hit him. “Man, I didn’t even get to see your bare tits. Damn it.” Eddie pouted as he suddenly realized my Hellfire shirt was still intact.

I laughed, shaking my head at him and kissing his chin. “Take me home and they’re all yours.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Your house or mine?”

“Yours, handsome.”

“I hope you know you aren’t leaving then.” He grinned, kissing me gently. “You can wear my clothes tomorrow. It’s a saturday.”

I laughed and nodded. “Sounds like a deal.” I murmured back.

“Let’s go, my cute librarian.” Eddie grinned, grabbing my jeans and handing them to me before rushing to put everything away.

“Please don’t call me that again!” I laughed, slapping him with my jeans.

The two of us walked out of school hand in hand towards his van for a weekend of fun.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine

115 notes · View notes

galactic-magick · 2 years

Text

Jacob Holland x neutral!Reader

Summary: Now that Jacob has sworn off monster hunting, he has decided to build a new crew to promote learning about and peace with the sea beasts, and you might just get a spot on that ship.

Warnings: none

Words: 900+

Author’s Notes: I’m pretty sure I’ve read all the fics in the tag and I wanted more so here I am writing my own lol. This movie came out months ago so idk if people are still interested in fics about it but idc I just needed to write something dangit! If people like this I might do a part 2 :)

Requests Status: CURRENTLY CLOSED although I’m always open to suggestions, I just can’t promise I’ll write it cuz my semester just started and I’m very busy!

It’s been about a year since the truth was revealed about the royal family’s involvement in initiating the war with the sea beasts, and thanks to the demand and passion of the people, change is actually being made. Hunting the beasts is now illegal, all the old history books have been thrown away, and now there’s been a push to study and learn about the beasts rather than just learning how to kill them. The king and queen are still certainly not happy about the changes, but as less and less people stay on their side, their argument power has been lost.

You in particular have been quite intrigued by the new changes in the kingdom. Like everyone else, you were taught to fear the beasts, but now you’re very open to learning about who they really are. You’ve always wanted to take to the sea yourself, originally to join the hunters but now just to explore. You have high hopes of boarding a ship as soon as tonight possibly, since the famous Jacob Holland is in town. You hear he’s trying to put a crew together to sail farther than anyone in the kingdom has ever gone before, with the goal of finding new species of sea beasts and spreading the message of peace to other kingdoms.

You’ve never met the guy personally, but you instantly recognize him when you see him across the room in the tavern. He’s not currently talking with anyone, so you take your shot and walk towards him, sitting next to him at the bar and ordering another drink.

“Why hello there,” he speaks first. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in here before,”

“Oh, I’m here from time to time,” you smile.

He introduces himself, not that he needs an introduction, and you tell him your name as well. You’re not really sure what you expected, but he’s an incredibly kind man. Not that you thought he’d be mean, but after all, he’s the captain of a ship and responsible for both killing dozens of beasts and rebuilding a peaceful relationship with the beasts alongside his adopted daughter. It wouldn’t surprise you if he was a little cocky.

But he’s not. He makes casual conversation with you, attentively listening to everything you say. He tells you about his past adventures, and his plans for the future. He even asks you to dance for a while when the music starts up again, and you can’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

The multi-colored sunset glow pours through the windows, Jacob holding your hands tight as you swing around. Tune after tune plays, and neither of you grow tired. The energy in the tavern is electric, with almost everyone joining into the dance as well. Some of the songs you sing along to and some you just move to the rhythm, but neither of you care if you’re doing it correctly.

Eventually the crowd starts to flow out as the night goes on, and you sit back down at the bar to have one last round.

“Say,” he swallows the last sip of his drink. “Would you be interested in joining my crew?”

You almost spit out your own. You honestly didn’t think he’d ask you first.

“Oh! Well- I’d um- definitely consider it,” you nod.

“Wonderful. Just a moment,” he dashes across the room and soon comes back pulling a little girl on his arm, who you’re assuming is his daughter. “This is Maisie. We all have her to thank for where the kingdom is now,” he ruffles her hair and grins.

“Lovely to meet you!” you shake her hand.

“What do you think of them, hmm? Think they’re worthy to join our crew?”

Maisie takes a long look at you, as if analyzing every feature and reading your brain.

“I think so,” she finally says. “Do you really wanna join us?”

Your nod becomes more confident.

“Absolutely, if you’ll have me,”

“Yay!” she hugs you tight. “Finally someone else wants to join!”

You tilt your head towards Jacob, “You mean you haven’t recruited anyone else yet?”

“Well,” he runs a nervous hand through his hair, “Besides some of the crew members from The Inevitable...no. Not many civilians with no previous sailing experience have been interested,”

“I think they’re still scared,” Maisie pipes up, rolling her eyes. “You’re not scared, are ya?”

“It’s always a little scary trying something new,” you reply. “But no, I’m not scared to sail on a ship,”

“Good,” she looks up to Jacob. “We can keep ‘em then,”

He laughs, offering his hand to you, “Do you want to take a look around?”

You enthusiastically agree, and he leads you outside to the docks. The new ship is quite different than The Inevitable, no weapons, for one. The ship is a lot less menacing looking overall, and the lodging is much nicer. There’s even a designated spot for Maisie’s pet Blue, although she says he’s getting a bit too big to stay with her on the ship much longer.

“What do ya think?” she asks you.

“I love it,” you smile.

“We could leave tomorrow if you’d like,” Jacob says.

Your brows furrow, “What about recruiting more people?”

“I highly doubt we’ll find others as eager to join as you, love. We already have enough crew members for the basic ship operations, and I think the exploration part will be just fine with only the three of us,”

“But I’m super inexperienced, I really don’t think-”

“We were both new once too,” Maisie interrupts, tugging your sleeve with reassurance. “We both joined as kids knowin’ nothin’ too. You’re at least older and smarter than we were,”

You chuckle, “I suppose so,”

“Do we have a deal then, darlin?” Jacob smirks.

“I think we do.”

#the sea beast #jacob holland x reader #jacob holland #the sea beast fanfic

164 notes · View notes

depressedhouseplant · 7 days

Text

Just Fucking Write - Day 122

A/N: Hey, hey, hey here’s some bonus content for C&R! You can find the main fic here.

Kevin was walking out of the hospital when his private phone rang. He didn’t bother to look at the number before answering.

”Who needs stitches now?” He asked.

“No one, to my knowledge,” Mingi replied.

”Oh, hi. How did you get this number? This is the phone Juyeon gave me,” Kevin said.

”I know and I have my sources,” Mingi told him. “Don’t worry. No one was harmed in the procurement of this phone number.”

”That makes me feel better. So, uh, why are you calling?” Kevin asked.

”I was hoping you might be interested in a second try at a first date. Unless, of course, you aren’t interested. I would understand,” Mingi suggested. Kevin smiled to himself as he got in the car. A mafia sniper was stumbling over his words trying to ask him out. How many people had that happen twice in their lives?

”Was it the crying?” Kevin laughed a little.

”And the fact you’re the only person I’ve ever told I was married. That’s something I thought I’d take to my grave. Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to put it like that,” Mingi replied.

”You’re fine. I guess that’s something we have in common, dead spouses,” Kevin said.

”I hope we have something more than that and maybe a little less morbid,” Mingi sounded hopeful.

”Sure, I’m willing to give it another shot. Maybe I’ll even clean my apartment before you come over,” Kevin smiled.

”Already inviting me over and I haven’t even bought you dinner yet?” Mingi laughed.

”I guess I am,” Kevin replied.

”Looking forward to it already,” Mingi said.

#just fucking write 2k24 #minors dni #the boyz fanfic #ateez fanfic #mafia au #bonus content #crossover ships

6 notes · View notes

dcvilgrams · 6 months

Text

I Wasn't Expecting Pillows

a random OM! comfort piece pairing: platonic siblings Asmodeus & my MC (Xhura) [he/him] word count: 975 rating: general

notes: this is just a general 'my fic is my comfort' little snippet. today's been rough and it would be nice to feel like asmo would always be there for me~ some general notes: this is platonic asmo & my mc xhura, xhura is an mc who became a demon, he is married to lucifer, & asmodeus is dating a handsome athlete named zelphrem (oc demon) none of this is really necessary to know but i can't not over-complicate the explanations

hope the short-&-sweet sillies make you smile like they did for me 💗

“I did a lot of crazy stuff back when I was human.”

“Oh Petal, I know~ You’ve regaled me more than a few times with stories of your… less-than-savory adventures.”

Xhura chuckles, tucking his hands under the impossibly fluffy pillow. How in the world has Asmo managed to hide this thing from Belphie for this long? Surely at some point or another the former youngest of the Lords of Hell has managed to ‘Goldie Locks’ his way through every pillow in the House. Xhura knows at the very least he’s rifled through some of Lucifer’s old throw pillows when his usual one is in the washer.

Hmm… Maybe it’s the perfume. That’s probably a decent Sloth-deterrent.

Or would it be a Cow-deterrent…?

“Petal? Hell to Petal~ Can you read me Petal?”

Xhura blinks several times, only to see Asmodeus staring down at him from right above. He’s smiling that usual ‘I’m here for you darling’ smile, but there’s a hint of something concerned behind his honeyed eyes. It doesn’t go away even when Xhura offers up a smile of his own.

“Sorry, spaced out there for a second.”

“Uh-huh…” Asmodeus doesn’t sound all too convinced. And given Xhura’s history with ‘spacing out’ being a whole lot more than just your everyday daydreaming, he has every right to feel even a smidgen of concern. “Promise that’s all it was?”

Xhura nods and reaches down for his brother’s hand, making a show of linking their pinky fingers together. “Pinky promise.” Their eternal promise — their brotherly bond. Something so simple but maybe it’s the simplicity of it that makes it mean so much. Anyone can make a pinky promise. But it’s those who keep them that truly bring meaning to sentiment.

Asmo huffs and falls back down on Xhura’s left side. He knows he’s basically lost all ability to voice his worries now. But he also knows Xhura wouldn’t swear on a pinky promise if he wasn’t absolutely certain.

“Then what were you thinking about?”

Xhura chuckles. “Belphie stealing your pillows.”

“Petal! Now why would you put such a horrible thing out into the universe like that?” Asmo reaches and grabs the first thing he touches; another throw pillow, albeit smaller, in the shape of a heart. Xhura vaguely remembers Asmo gushing about how Zelphrem won it for him at Devil’s Coast or something like that.

And… THWACK!

Xhura gets a carnival keepsake pillow to the face.

“You’re just asking for bad juju now!”

“Hey!” protests Xhura with a laugh, trying in vain to cover his face but when Asmo can’t hit him there he just goes for all the other soft squishy bits. “You can’t get mad at me! You asked!”

“Well I wouldn’t have if I’d known you were trying to turn me into an unknowing victim of Belphie’s sticky pillow-grubbing fingers!”

“How does that make any sense?!”

It doesn’t, and that’s why they’re both laughing so hard that breathing becomes more of a wheezing exercise. Not like either of them are out of shape — not by a long shot. They both get plenty of strenuous physical exercise thank you very much. But maybe because it’s been so long since they’ve laughed like this. Without a care in the world, all the things normally hanging over them and the family like a grey storm cloud abandoned for one moment of pure mirth and joy.

Thankfully for Xhura his brother stops before the pillow—which is a sentimental gift, as opposed to a gift of real quality—falls to clumps of stuffing and scraps of fabric under the slightest duress. Even if Asmodeus would have no one to blame but himself for it. Xhura would of course feel responsible for being the tangential reason a gift from Zel ended up needing replaced.

The pillow falls on the other side of the bed without a sound. For several long moments the only noise in Asmodeus’ bedroom is the combined effort of their labored breathing.

Xhura and Asmo wordlessly lace their fingers together in the scant space between them.

It’s not really a shocker that Asmo is the one to break their breathy concert. What is a shocker is what he decides to say to do it.

“I wasn’t expecting pillows. Since you started talking about your crazy wild human years… I wondered if maybe you were remembering something you wished you hadn’t.”

Slightly out of sync Xhura and Asmodeus turn to face each other with their elbows bent and their heads propped on their free palms. The perfect position for a deep and emotional staring contest. Asmodeus casually fiddles with Xhura’s wedding ring. Xhura taps his nail against Asmo’s new acrylic set.

Finally, Xhura sighs and looks down. The first to break eye contact. No doubt that worries Asmo more… Xhura loves winning staring contests.

“If that’s what you’re worried about, you don’t need to be,” says the youngest Lord of Hell quietly — so quiet even Asmodeus’ demonic ears require a little focus to catch it all. “I’m okay.”

“I’m sure you are, Petal,” because the fifth brother is all-too-familiar with recognizing his baby brother’s tells these days; like where ‘I’m okay’ doesn’t actually pertain to anything specific nor does it have to be about the topic he’s trying to bring up; “but you seemed like you came in here and wanted to talk about… something. So even if you’re okay, I need you to know I’m here for you however you need me to be.”

The barest hint of a smile quirks up at the corner of Xhura’s mouth. A good sign.

“Like you always are.”

“Exactly, like I always am~” Asmodeus grins, unlacing their fingers only as long as it takes to BOOP the tip of Xhura’s nose. Then it’s right back to platonic comfort-touch hand-holding.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fic #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus #my mc: xhura kusumoto #; my writing #the disaster duo chronicles #;; idk i never share writing on here but I needed some soft #;; so I'm sharing what WAS soft before it goes down the accidentally angsty path it's leading me to all by itself

7 notes · View notes

sharkface-daydreams · 2 years

Photo

I was recently reminded of Fic Rec lists and got the urge to make one, and since it’s Tucktober and Dr. Love could use a little love, I thought I’d try to put together a fic rec list of Tucker-centric fics. (Might do some for the upcoming character months if I’m feeling up to it :D)

This list is going to be a bit of a mix of things I have bookmarked, friend recs and trawling AO3 looking for older works that don’t get much love today. If you don’t see something you think should be on here, please reblog and add it! I did my best but am only one person and my energy is limited. :)

Here’s the listing format for your convenience:

Title (link) | Author | Rating (as per AO3) Ship/Characters | Warnings/relevant tags/info (AU, graphic violence, smut) Completed Y/N | Word Count Summary

Heavy Weather | Shir_Khan | Rating: E Church/Tucker | Modern AU, Natural Disasters Complete | Word Count: 28,841 Summary: Given that Church and Tucker only interact once a year when storm season rolls around, they’re really closer to acquaintances than actual friends. But if Church is going to spend days at a time cooped up with another person, he prefers it to be someone he won’t end up strangling, and that’s slim pickings.

An Ace Or Two In Space | LilRadRidingHood | Rating: T Tucker/Wash | Temple of Procreation fic with a twist One-shot | Word Count: 980 Summary: The Temple of Procreation didn't work on either of them, but it ends up bringing them together anyway.

giving up the ghost | eggstacy | Rating: T Tucker, Some Tucker/Wash | Major Character Death, AI Hallucinations/Unreality One-shot | Word Count: 2,879 Summary: Tucker got a lot of judgment through his life and that didn't change when he joined the military. Getting transferred into this fake-ass simulation war might've been a demotion on paper, but meeting the first person to call him out without thinking less of him for it made all of the humiliation worth it.

Bitter Pill | Goodluckdetective, Hinn_Raven, RenaRoo | Rating: M Tucker/Wash | Graphic Violence, Time Travel AU, Bad Future Complete | Word Count: 38,735 Summary: During the war, Tucker goes missing. Ten years later, he shows back up again. Chorus is on its last leg. His friends are either dead, captured or scattered. And Tucker is still Tucker.

Machine Learning | Cosmobot | Rating: T Tucker, Church | Emotional Hurt/Comfort One-shot | Word Count: 4,597 Summary: Tucker has some things he needs to say. Church has some things he needs to hear. Neither of them particularly want to talk about it, but they do anyway. Sort of. There's maybe more yelling involved than there should be.

Gone | RysingSun | Rating: M Tucker | Graphic Violence, Child Neglect One-shot | Word Count: 7,278 Summary: Needing to access a MacGuffin, Tucker is sent through some of his most difficult memories. No matter how scared and alone he feels, his friends are there for him when he comes out the other side.

Too Quiet | InfernoTornado | Rating: T Tucker, Carolina | Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Drinking One-shot | Word Count: 5,030 Summary: Tucker wants to finally have that drink he talked about having with church... but Church is gone, and he doesn't want to do this alone

Green Team - And Cunningham Fell | ShyChangling | Rating: M Tucker, Green Team | Canon Death, Canon-Typical Violence One-shot | Word Count: 1021 Summary: Tucker never wanted this. Tucker never wanted to be the damn leader of any one. Least of all... when it comes to this.

Enough, Enough | Eggstacy, saltsanford | Rating: M Tucker, Blue Team | Graphic Violence, Torture Complete | Word Count: 46,403 Summary: The mission is a disaster, of fucking course, because they hadn’t had enough of those in recent years.

#graphic design is my passion #red vs blue #rvb #rvb tucker #lavernius tucker #thanks to clocks-are-round Ry for character months :)#fic rec list #rvb fic recs #also no sorry i haven't read put my guns in the ground. i might get around to it at some point but my brain is a recalcitrant weasel #feel free to add it. i hear a lot of praise for it #long post #?#it's not that long really #i found quite a lot of tuckington but it was more wash centric tbh

31 notes · View notes

dollsome-does-tumblr · 1 year

Text

Fanfiction of 2022 - Year in Review!

I like to do this every year just so it feels like I really got up to something. :D

Total number of completed stories: 13! (Er, if you count the one chapter of a Jane Eyre rewrite I posted for some reason in a fit of writer’s block madness. Which I shouldn’t, because it’s not complete. But I will anyway!)

Total Word Count: 32,000

Fandoms Written In: Jurassic Park, Killing Eve, Our Flag Means Death, Ted Lasso, Glass Onion, and Jane Eyre

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?: More, because this was a stressful personal year and I truly didn’t expect to write any at all. At the start of the year I was like, “You know what? This is just never gonna happen and that’s okay.” But I still busted some out when the fangirl inspiration overtook me, yay!

What’s your own favorite story of the year? I am torn between my Jurassic Park fic “and he feels like home”, my Ted Lasso fic “forget your troubles (come on, get happy)”, and my OFMD fic “my love a beacon in the night.” It’s a tie!

Did you take any writing risks this year? I participated in GrantlerFest with my Alan/Ellie fic “for me there is no other”, which I believe was the first time I’ve ever written a fic like that for a challenge in my 20+ year fanfic-writing career! I’m such a commitmentphobe when it comes to stuff like that, haha. And it wound up being a lot of fun! Year of Grantler, huzzah!

Do you have any fanfic or original fic goals for the new year? Fanfic: Just keep writing one-shots for fun when the spirit moves me! I do feel like I should write a Gilmore Girls fic this next year at some point just because it feels so weird that I didn’t in 2022.

Original fic: I have a few novel drafts I really want to get back to strengthening so I can do something with them; I feel like they deserve something better than just being an ignored file on my computer after the years of work I put into them! (Even though I’m really lazy and just letting them sit there forever is my natural impulse.) I also would potentially like to write a new novel project since it’s been a few years since my last. I think I’m going to try a comedy since I really want to hang out in silly land these days.

My Best-Written Story: I think my OFMD fic “my love a beacon in the night” is, because it was a long time coming and because I worked on it really hard for longer than I usually do with fic! I wanted to do an “Oh my God, what happens after season one, how could you possibly fix this” fic like right after s1 ended in March, but somehow it took like the rest of the year and five or so rewatches for me to reach the point where I could actually write about it.

Story Most Underappreciated by the Universe: Just based on my own sort of irrational personal feelings, I’d say the same story as above, “my love a beacon in the night”! I think because I posted it so long after season one aired, the fandom excitement has maybe kind of cooled somewhat. It was just one of those fics where I felt like I was really putting a lot of ideas into the writing (rather than a more standard, like, simple bantery cute fic), and I suuuuper passionately cared about all those ideas just because I am so crazy emotionally invested in Ed and Stede, so I was curious to find out what other fans of the show would think about it. However: I did still get incredibly kind comments on it and it was wonderful to read people’s thoughts! In my dream life its reach would’ve just been a bit further because I’m just, like, itchy for interaction about that fic.

Most Popular: Coming in and clobbering all competition right at the end of the year, my wee little Glass Onion coda “here’s another place you can be”! It’s definitely because I was in the right place at the right time with that one. Fandom kairos!

Before that for most of the year, it was my little Killing Eve post-finale fic “darkness bright” where Villanelle lives because WHY WOULDN’T VILLANELLE LIVE. The finale is a lie, and my tiny fanfiction is the TRUTH!

Most Fun: My Ted Lasso fic “forget your troubles (come on, get happy)” where Ted mistakenly thinks Rebecca and Beard are falling in love and has Problems with it, just because I was in a state of pure hyper romcom nonsense writing it and it was REALLY enjoyable. And the reception to it really left me over the moon!

Most Disappointing: I had a few fics that I wrote a lot of – my first attempt at a post-s1 OFMD one from back in March and a Ted Lasso one that was a sequel to my AU fic “i once was poison ivy” – that just didn’t quite come together enough to be completed. That was a bit odd for me because usually when I’ve written a few thousand words of something, that fact alone is enough to propel me to finish it and post it. But I just couldn’t quite get those ones to work! (Although I did reread the OFMD one recently and I actually thought it was pretty decent. So maybe one day I’ll try to dust it off with the disclaimer that it was written by someone whose psyche had just been entirely shattered by watching episodes 9 & 10 for the first time. I also think the Ted Lasso one probably has some good bits in it, but it was on the more melancholy side a lot of the time and I don’t think my writing works super well in the melancholy zone.)

Most Sexy: I don’t ever really write sexy stuff in the traditional sense, but I think my sexiest fic from 2022 is my post-Jurassic World Dominion Alan/Ellie fic “and he feels like home”, for the reason of: WHAT IS SEXIER THAN THEM FINALLY GETTING BACK TOGETHER AND HAVING A BLISSFUL TIME BECOMING EACH OTHER’S LIFE PARTNERS AGAIN AFTER NEARLY 3 DECADES? Nothing!!

Story With The Single Sweetest Moment: I am embarrassed to say that I have sort of a hard time picking because my fic all tends to hang out in the “and then there’s a sweet moment this has all been building toward!” zone. For the sake of brevity: I did really like the idea of Benoit Blanc being able to easily set aside the insane experiences in Glass Onion and say and genuinely mean “Wow, that’s amazing!” at Phillip finally successfully baking something. That is the original germ that grew the whole little story!

I also really liked how Ted professed his Feels to Rebecca in “forget your troubles (come on, get happy)”. That kinda snuck up on me.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: I wrote a Killing Eve fic called “you’ll never leave me” (I’m not above pulling “Tell Me” lyrics for all Killing Eve fic titles!) that was meant to sort of explain WHY Eve and Villanelle were in such a different place at the start of season four than they were when season three ended, and it did help me to feel like I could imagine a smoother bridge between the two seasons based on what both of them had going on emotionally. Even though honestly, I think the writers of actual canon were just being lazy for no reason and that sucks. Sometimes you just gotta do the work yourself, SIGH!

Biggest Surprise: Listen, I thought there was no way I would ever write fanfic for the Knives Out franchise. What could have ever compelled me to?? The answer, it turns out: Hugh Grant. Dear God, maybe he is my blorbo.

Hardest to Write: I don’t usually stick with fanfic if it’s hard to write these days, since the stakes are so low; I think the hardest time I had was writing the post-party conversation between Ed and Stede in “my love a beacon in the night,” just because it was really long and complicated and I really wanted to get it right and pick up where they’d left off with all their issues in s1. I did a lot of rewriting and reading it to myself and really trying to be able to vividly imagine each beat. I’d say I am at least 95% satisfied with it. Yeah!!

Most Unintentionally Telling: I don’t remember if I was thinking about it at the time or not, but for the general experience in my lil’ Ed/Stede fic “comfort in a bedfellow’d state” and the buzzy feelings of new love, I pulled a lot from the early days of my own relationship one million years (or, well, one decade) ago. D’awww!

Also, I feel like the fact that I started the year trying to rewrite Jane Eyre from memory says a lot about the writer’s block I was wrestling with at the time. But that’s more intentionally telling. I feel so lucky that some inspiration came along and I was still able to have fun writing fic this year!

***

Here is my Works page on AO3 if anyone’s interested in checking out any of the stuff mentioned above!

#dollsome's deep thoughts #i write things!

10 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 2 years

Text

Sounds Nice

Wilbur Soot x Colorblind!Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A chance meeting at a convenience store allows a beautiful friendship to start.

Requested by my friend Minnow. Hi darling! I hope you come across this fic even after all the long while it’s take for me to write your request which I’m so sorry for. I hope the fic itself makes up for the wait and I hope you enjoy the read. Love, Vy ❤

Ah, fuck this!

I oh so confidently rushed out of the house to grab my sister shampoo as a punishment for flushing it all down the toilet this morning and yet here I am now. Ok, scratch that, I made it sound like I wanted to go and grab her a new bottle of shampoo which is definitely not the case, my mom just made me do it. It was my turn to do the chores today and she was making it a nightmarish experience for me. Knowing she has a date, I purposefully flushed that shit down the the toilet and just casually left the bottle in its usual spot. Cut to her being totally livid, screeching to our mom about it while glaring daggers at me while I couldn’t give any less of a fuck. But my mom obviously didn’t find the joke as funny as I did cause now I’m here, unsure of which shampoo is the one I should get my sister. I thought I’d be able to figure it out based on the label but oh boy was I wrong. There are multiple kinds! I remember asking her one time what color it was and she said teal but there’s no way that can help me here.

So here I am, reading the ingredients in each type of shampoo of the same brand, trying to figure out which it could be without having a clue of what are the ones in my sister’s one. At least it gives me time away from home where I’m sure to get a lecture on my childish actions. I’m twenty-two and I still pull shitty revenge plans like that - am I ashamed? Hell nah. Does my mom think I should be? Oh definitely. But do I care? No, but in Spanish for emphasis.

I’m slowly starting to give up at this point, the misery of standing alone in this aisle starting to creep up stronger and stronger until I’m just about ready to eenie-meenie my way through this shit. My plan is quickly put under segment B when another person walks into the aisle. He seems like a decent enough fella, tall as all hell and I’ll even go as far as to admit he’s quite handsome but that’s far from relevant now. After all, his appearance cannot guarantee he’s not a dick. Now, I hate asking for help, but I hate standing around doing nothing even more so...

“Hey, excuse me, could you please tell me which of these bottles is teal?“ I ask, ready for just about any response. For all I know he could be a Karen in a man’s body but I’m prepared to deal with that too, it’d be nothing new after all.

He turns to look at me, eyebrows shot up in surprise for a second before a warm smile graces his features. He points at a random bottle before taking it and handing it to me, “Here you go.”

I sigh in relief, “Thank you so much, you cannot believe how much of my life I wasted trying to guess which shade of grey seems most like teal.” I laugh, shaking my head, just about ready to excuse myself and dip.

Except...I don’t want to.

And it seems like he doesn’t want me to either.

“Glad I could help...“ He trails off, clearly wanting to say something but unable to find the words.

From the ones that have managed to leave his mouth up until this point I’ve been able to pick up on his British accent which could get any person to swoon and who the hell am I to be an exception to that rule. That smile, the voice and the accent and consider me a goner. And no, I’m not one to point out attractive people at convenience stores often, but I’d be insane not to pick up on the handsomeness of this stranger.

I nod and as I’m about to disappointedly turn on my heel he stutters out a sentence much to my relief. I’m no social butterfly, but there’s a certain group of people I love talking to and for some reason this guy is a member of said group. Hey, I don’t make the rules! My brain does.

“Need help with anything else?“ He asks uncertainly, causing me to smile.

“Unless you can help me come up with some excuse as to why I’ll be coming home late, I’m afraid not.“ I reply coyly and also quite timidly, in my typical fashion.

The guy chuckles, “Unfortunately, I happen to have as many ideas as you, but I could....” He once again trails off, a little less nervously this time though which seems like an improvement, “...steal you away for a coffee if you’d like. I haven’t had the greatest day so sorry if I’m coming off as a weirdo or a creep...”

“No, you’re not. Not at all.“ I cut him off, my hand slightly brushing against his arm, “In fact, I can relate in the shitty day department and that coffee sounds nice....“

“Sounds great!“ He says excitedly, grinning before he starts buffering nervously yet again, “I mean, it’s not great that you’ve had a shitty day, but it’s great that you’d like to, you know, hang out....I should probably stop talking, shouldn’t I?“

I can’t help but giggle, watching as his cheeks redden in embarrassment, “No, no, keep rambling, it’s adorable.” This earns me a laugh from him, one which calms his nerves thankfully. “I’m Y/N by the way.” I offer him a hand for a ‘formal’ greeting which he almost instantly takes.

“I’m Wilbur.“ He replies, that accent of his thickening as he shakes my hand.

“Ok then, Wilbur, that nice sounding coffee will be my treat.” I wink at him, not waiting for a response of any kind before waltzing down the aisle towards the cash register. I can hear his footsteps behind me, suggesting he’s not gonna buy anything himself before we leave.

Imagine he went in to buy coffee....

@boiled-onionrings

186 notes · View notes

criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years

Text

Avoidance

masterlist

part two

Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.

A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader

Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom

Word Count: 8.2k

I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.

Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.

Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.

It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.

I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.

“He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”

By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:

“Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.

And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.

“How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.

“I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”

He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.

“Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.

“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”

“Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.

Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.

“I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.

“N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”

And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.

Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.

In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.

The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.

After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.

I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.

Until today.

“Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”

I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.

Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.

“Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.

“Why? Is there a problem?”

Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.

“No, but I just think that-”

“Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”

Right.

I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.

Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.

But not to me – no, never to me.

“Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”

After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”

I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated groan.

After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.

After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.

I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.

Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.

I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.

As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.

Or so I thought.

I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.

And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.

“Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.

“Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”

“I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.

“C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”

“Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.

“You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.

“I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.

“Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.

Oh, fuck no.

I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.

My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.

“What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.

“Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?

Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”

By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.

“You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”

I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.

“I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.

Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.

“Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.

Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.

I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.

He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.

“I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.

“Oh. O-Okay.”

And that was that.

It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.

The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.

I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.

I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.

I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.

Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!

I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.

I’m about five feet away from the door when:

“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”

I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.

But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.

It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.

Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.

I take that as my invitation to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.

I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”

Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.

“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.

“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.

“I-I…”

“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”

Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”

Oh.

This just got a lot more interesting.

I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.

“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”

Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

“Words, baby. Use them.”

“I-I liked it. A lot.”

“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”

“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”

I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.

“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.

“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”

I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?

“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”

“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.

“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”

“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”

I hum.

“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.

“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.

“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”

“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.

“Please what?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.

“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”

“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”

Spencer nods.

“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”

Oh. Oh.

I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”

Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.

“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.

“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”

Enthusiastic little shit.

“Safe word?”

“Um… Tolstoy?”

I let out a snort.

“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”

“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.

Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.

“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.

“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”

The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.

“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.

“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.

“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”

Spencer nods.

“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.

Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.

I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.

“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.

“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”

“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.

“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.

“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.

“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”

I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.

“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.

“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.

Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.

“D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.

“S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”

I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.

“Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.

I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.

“Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”

Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.

“You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.

“Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.

I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.

“Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”

Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:

“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”

The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.

I know he didn’t just…

I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.

Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.

“I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”

“Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?” “N-No, Miss.”

“Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”

“B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”

“Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”

Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.

“I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”

Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.

“Color?”

“G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.

“Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”

“Tolstoy.”

“Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”

“Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”

A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.

“O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.

“You okay, baby?”

“Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”

My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.

“Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”

By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.

I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.

“T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”

Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.

I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.

Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.

A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.

“Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

“S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”

“Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.

“Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.

“Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”

“N-No, it’s just-”

I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.

“No, it isn’t good enough?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.

“P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”

Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.

“Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”

That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.

“W-Why did yo-”

“You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”

“S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”

Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.

“You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”

“Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.

“S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.

“Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”

“H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”

“Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.

“Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.

While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.

“I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”

I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.

“Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”

With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.

“Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”

His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.

“Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”

“Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.

“Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me.

“Y/N - fuck!”

Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.

I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.

“C-Can you stay? Please?”

The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.

“Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.

“Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”

“Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.

“What is it, baby?”

A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?”

After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.

My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.

“I have another question,” he says shyly.

“Lay it on me, baby.”

The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.

“It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”

Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.

“First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.

“Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.

And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #dom!reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #smut #dom/sub #sub spence

4K notes · View notes

itsmyartfam · 3 years

Text

Dadzawa fic rec list

So lately I’ve been reading a lot of Dadzawa fics so I thought I’d share them with you. I shortened down the summaries of some of the longer ones- I didn’t put them in my own words of course, but I just used the shortened snippets that authors sometimes put at the end of their own longer summaries. They’re in no particular order of greatness, and I tried to get a good blend of popular and less popular ones so here u go.

1) i. shaky hands- rexcorvidae

midoriya has chronic pain, and tries to hide it. aizawa deals with this, and learns something surprising along the way.

One-Shot. Honestly their whole whumptober collection is amazing I would totally read them all if you have the time, they’re pretty much all loaded with great Dadzawa content

2) Not all exits are made Equal- LunaLucrea

When a raid goes wrong, and Aizawa gets taken, he's hardly expecting to be found. He's a professional Underground Hero. He's seen situations like this play out before, and knows how the cards usually fall.

He's got people he'll miss of course, and he feels terrible about what this is going to do to Hizashi and Eri, but these are the types of risks he agreed to when he signed on the dotted line all those years ago. He's ready to accept his fate.

Too bad for him his former students are tenacious little shits.

Three chapters. I love seeing how Aizawa interacts with older Midoriya in the first chapter and how he thinks of all of his former students now that they’re pro heroes, he’s such a proud dad but he’s also so self-deprecating and he needs some love and class 1-A will force it on him. Wholesome, 10/10, but also warning for whump! on Aizawa’s part.

3) To the people we admire- The_ crownless_ queen

Eri learns about autographs, and how they're a way for fans to show they like their heroes. Naturally, she wants all of them — and especially Eraserhead's.

One-Shot. I don’t read many Eri fics but my god, this one is adorable. Eri learns about autographs and wants Aizawa’s but his students know that Aizawa doesn’t really give autographs so they devise a plan to get one out of him- basically by making him jealous of Eri getting autographs from every hero but him. It’s wholesome, Dadzawa is like ‘wtf Eri’, I love it.

4) Inhibitions- Thealmostrhetoricalquestion

Todoroki gets zapped by a Quirk that effectively lowers someone's inhibitions, and Aizawa deals with the strange, humorous, heart-breaking fallout.

The train ride back is something of a nightmare. Not because it goes badly, or because something awful happens, but because Aizawa can’t get rid of this feeling in his chest every time he sees Todoroki’s unusual, carefree smile. He looks like nothing has ever hurt him.

One-Shot. Lol, this one’s funny- Todoroki acts all loopy and carefree and Aizawa is frantically scrambling after him trying to make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble, all while finding out more than he’d ever thought he’d learn about his student. Good shit, good comedy, good angst.

5) I consider myself lucky- alightintheshadows

For some of us, our teachers are the greatest role models we'll ever have.

One-Shot. Ugh, this is so sappy and kinda cheesy but I love it! Izuku gives his dads All Might and Aizawa gifts because he loves is grateful to them. WHOLESOME SHIT

6) Not in the Job Description- IidaRei98

A collection of drabbles revolving around the Dadazawa and Class 1A. Mostly fluff with some hurt/comfort - whatever pops into my head really!

Incomplete, 56/? Chapters. Solid collection of dadzawa drabbles. I didn’t finish reading them all because I get easily distracted away from long fics, but since it doesn’t follow a plot it’s easy to put down and pick back up when you wanna get your dadzawa fix.

7) passing through fire- achievingelysium

“What happened? A villain?”

“Ye- yeah,” Midoriya croaks. Shouta starts walking.

“I was there,” Shouta says, feeling through the words before he speaks, “but I don’t remember?”

Midoriya closes his eyes.

“No,” he agrees, “you wouldn’t. But- but you... were there. With... me.”

Aizawa finds himself in a street with little memory of how he got there. Then he discovers Midoriya, beaten and bruised, who claims Aizawa protected him—but as Aizawa regains pieces of his memory he realizes Midoriya may be lying, and he's the one who's done his own student harm.

One-Shot. OOH, OUCH, FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE! God I love the Dadzawa ANGST in this! I haven’t seen a dadzawa fic with a plot like this before, so I highly recommend checking this one out, especially if you like ANGST! Love it!

8) a penny for your thoughts- cassiopeia721

While visiting Eri at the hospital following her rescue from the Shie Hassaikai, Izuku and Aizawa-sensei both run into a nurse with a telepathy based quirk, and Izuku finds himself in a telepathic bond with his teacher. This is... somewhat worrying, considering how many secrets Izuku needs to keep.

Six chapters. Yet another Dadzawa fic with a unique concept that I have never come across before. Very good, much angst! My only complaint is I wish Izuku could’ve heard a bit more of Aizawa’s angsty thoughts, the whole thought-hearing did feel a bit one-sided at times, but overall it was a very good fic. The angst of Izuku struggling to keep his many secrets from Aizawa for a whole week was *chef’s kiss* Good dad-son bonding.

9) Geyser- spineless

Izuku faints during class when weeks of sleeping and eating poorly catch up with him. Aizawa, All Might, and his friends, remind him that no matter what he's going through, he doesn't have to do it alone.

Three Chapters. Good Dadzawa being all disapproving of his son Izuku pushing himself too hard and not taking care of himself like he can fucking talk lol. But also some angst cuz Izuku is a tormented boi who has been through too much and is Not OkayTM and his dads are there to help him.

10) The World on His Shoulders- baggytshirtsandtiredeyes

During their second year, Aizawa decides to take some of the students on patrol to give them a taste of the underground hero life. But of course, nothing goes as planned when UA's resident Problem Child is involved.

One-Shot. Izuku is a BAMF and Aizawa is like O.O. I can’t say anything more. This fic deserves more attention.

____________________________________________________

Okie dokie, that’s enough for now. If you guys like my recommendations, maybe I’ll make another list in the future!

1K notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

pose ~ pete davidson

word count: 1418

request?: yes!

“Hello!! Could you do a Pete fic where the reader is a photographer, they are doing a photoshoot and Pete keeps flirting with her throughout the photoshoot. She brushes this off and continues as normal, but after the shoot they keep running into each other and one day he asks her out on a date and she says yes. Please? Sorry if this doesn't make sense”

description: in which her flirtiest subject runs into her weeks later and decides to finally make a move

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

The interviewer kept trying to ask Pete questions, but he kept getting distracted by the photographer who was taking his picture for the article. She was a beautiful young woman who was so engrossed in her work that it made her ten times more attractive to Pete.

“Mr. Davidson,” the interviewer said, the annoyed edge evident in her voice.

Pete dragged his attention from the photographer, a dopey smile on his face that he knew no one could be upset at. Seeing a fantastic photograph opportunity in this, the photographer quickly snapped another shot.

“What was the question?” Pete asked.

The interviewer sighed and shook her head. “Let’s just finish the photographs and finish the interview back in my office.”

“I think we should be good on photographs, actually,” the photographer said. “I got a lot of good ones if you two want to look at them.”

“Wait, I have a great one to finish with,” Pete said.

He turned his back to the photographer and dramatically stuck his butt out. He twitched towards the camera and made a pouty face, putting his finger to his lips. The photographer giggled and took a snap of Pete’s ridiculous pose.

“(Y/N),” the interviewer snapped, “don’t take a picture, that’s unprofessional.”

“I’m not seriously sending it to be used,” (Y/N) said. “It’s just a funny picture.”

“I don’t care, delete it.”

The interviewer stood and walked back to her office, not even asking Pete to follow her. He looked back to (Y/N) to see her face was flushed and she looked a mixture of upset and angry.

“Don’t actually delete it,” Pete said. “I want to see it.”

(Y/N) brought the picture up on her camera and showed it to Pete. “It’s just the rough copy so it’s sort of lame. With the fancy magazine editing it would look really cool.”

“I think it looks great as it is,” Pete assured her. “I’d love to have a copy sent to me.”

“My boss would freak if I did.” Her eyes flicked to the door where the interviewer had just walked away. Pete could see the frustration in her eyes and guessed that this wasn’t the first time (Y/N) had been verbally berated by her.

“I’m sorry you go through that,” Pete said.

She shook her head and waved away Pete’s apology. “Don’t be. I’ve gotten used to it. Doesn’t make it any less infuriating whenever she gets angry for stupid reasons, but it happens.”

“You don’t deserve to be talked to like that, though. You seem very professional, and even that goofy picture you took of me looks incredible.”

(Y/N) smiled and shyly looked down at her camera, unsure how to respond to his compliment.

“You’re also extremely beautiful, but that’s neither here nor there in regards to photography.”

(Y/N) giggled at this.

“You should go finish the interview. Her royal bitch will be waiting for you,” she told him.

Pete didn’t want to leave. He wanted to keep talking to (Y/N), and he really wanted to ask her out on a date. In a very uncharacteristic way for Pete, he found himself too nervous to do so and instead left with a lame “See you around”. The minute he walked out the doors of the studio they had been taking pictures in, he regretted his decision, but continued to the office of the interviewer so he could finally get it done and over with.

~~~~~~

A few weeks later, the article had been published and, unsurprisingly, had blown up massively. It was one of the first interviews that Pete had done that got really deep, and he had talked about a lot of things he had never really publicly discussed before. He fans were eating it up and talking about it non-stop. Pete was happy it had gained such positive traction, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the photographer.

He was in his favorite coffee spot, waiting for his order before running off to work, when the bell over the door rang to signal someone had walked in. Pete glanced up from his phone a moment before looking back down, but then did a quick double take when he realized he recognized the woman who had just walked in.

“Hey! (Y/N)!”

(Y/N), who had also been distracted by something on her phone, looked up to see Pete approaching her. She smiled as she pulled out the one headphone she had in her hear.

“Hey Pete!” she said. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. How are you?”

“Doing great! I have a job offer with a bigger photography company than the one I was working for. I’m heading there after here actually.”

“Holy shit, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah, well I kinda have you to thank for that. They were impressed with the pictures I took for your article and reached out to offer me the job.”

“That must’ve been a saving grace from the wrath that was your boss. When I saw you had included the goofy picture I could only imagine how angry she must’ve been.”

(Y/N) smirked, the memory of her boss’ face, tomato red with anger, after seeing the silly picture taken of Pete in her “very serious” article.

“It was actually the editor’s choice,” she told him. “When I submitted the pictures I had taken, I had included that one by mistake. But the editor loved it. He said that it showcased more of your personality than just your super serious side. He was so insistent on having the picture in the article that he even threatened to take my boss’ name out of the credits if she continued to throw her hissy fit.”

Pete whistled. “That’s brutal. She must’ve loved that.”

“She practically had steam coming out of her ears for a week. She tried to punish me by having one of our other photographers follow her for her next article, but my editor just paired me up with another of our journalists who is much nicer. And now I have this job offer anyways, so there’s really no lose here for me.”

“Well I’m really happy for you. You deserve a place that’s really going to understand your talent and appreciate you for all you do.”

(Y/N) smiled warmly at Pete. She had also been thinking about him a lot since their first encounter. There had been a few times where she almost asked her boss if she know how (Y/N) could get in contact with Pete, but realized that would likely be a bad idea considering her boss basically already hated her.

The cashier called for the next person in line, which was (Y/N). As she stepped forward to place an order, Pete’s name (or rather his fake name as not to be recognized when out in public) was called. He went to collect his coffee and turned back to (Y/N), who had stepped aside to wait for her own. She was looking up at him, almost expectantly.

Before he could stop himself, Pete blurted, “Do you wanna go out some time?”

(Y/N) nearly sighed with relief when he finally said the words. She nodded quickly and took Pete’s hand in her own. She pulled a pen from her bag and wrote her number on his hand.

“Very middle school of you,” Pete teased.

“That’s what makes it so adorable,” (Y/N) responded. “Text me later, we can figure out a time and date. Preferably sometime soon if you’d like.”

“If it were up to me I’d be taking you out right now.”

(Y/N) giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at her shoes. “Tempting, but I do have to go for that job interview.”

“How about after that? We can go out to celebrate you getting that super awesome job that you deserve.”

“What if I don’t get it?”

“Impossible, but if that happens then we’ll go out and get fucked up so you forget about the interview instead.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Okay, sounds like a plan.”

Her name was called before Pete could say anything else. She grabbed her coffee and waved goodbye to Pete, calling, “See you later, Pete!” over her shoulder as she walked out the coffee shop door.

Pete had to stop himself from happy dancing in the middle of the shop in front of so many people, but inside he was already celebrating his own little win.

#Pete Davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #requests #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

440 notes · View notes

queridopascal · 3 years

Text

Locked in (Frankie Morales x F!Reader)

Summary: you go back to your ex’s house to pick up some of your stuff, but end up locked in with him into his basement. An object brings back memories and new revelations. (word coun: 1k)

Warning: angst, post break up dynamics, fluff, mention of PTSD and drugs, reconciliation

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ❤️

A/N: this was a request from @escribedesdetualma that I got for the “Fic title ask game” and that Tumblr decided to eat. I don’t know if this was the correct title, but I had already started to write it before the request disappeared, so I decided to give it a shot!

“I can’t believe it! I refuse to believe it!” Frankie huffs as he paces back and forth in the dark space of his basement.

“Stop it, please…” you beg him while massaging your throbbing temples.

“I can’t believe I’m stuck in my own house, in my own basement, with no windows, and with my ex!”

“Come on, how old are you Frankie? Ten?” you roll your eyes, baffled by his behavior, “I’m not gonna kill you and eat your body in case we stay locked in forever…”

“Oh you won’t have to,” he shrugs, “I’m already dead to you, so….” he adds as he sits on the concrete floor and crosses his arms.

“That’s not true...”

“It is! You’re here just because I found some of your old stuff in my basement.” he shakes his head and lowers the baseball cap to cover his eyes.

“Uhm, yeah? And I’m here to pick it up because it all belonged to me.”

“No, it didn’t.”

“What? These are all things I bought on my own…” you turn to him, the torch of your phone illuminating his face.

“Not everything,” he retorts, shielding his eyes from the light with the back of his hand, “that pink octopus plushie…” he adds with a faint voice as he looks at the stuffed animal in the cardboard box.

Oh.

Frankie was right: you didn’t buy that plushie, he had won it at the carnival you went on one of your first dates.

A lump forms in your throat as you think back to that day, and the memory warms your heart, but it makes you sad knowing how much things have changed lately.

You squeeze the soft toy in your hands and find yourself catapulted back to one year earlier, the crowd of people passing from one stall to another, the smell of fried food and candy floss wafting through the air while the September sun, less hot than the August one, warms you up nicely as you walk hand in hand with Frankie.

“Wanna take a ride on the ferris wheel?” he stops abruptly and points at the now almost non-existent line.

“Can we wait a couple more hours? I’d like to be up there to see the sun set.” you say as you turn to him with dreamy eyes.

He smiles at you and pulls you to him. “Then we’ll go up there later and watch the sunset. How about I try to win something for you?”

“Like… one of those?” you raise an eyebrow and nod your head in the direction of the shooting game stall where plushies and other furry prizes are on display.

“Yeah, one of those.” he chuckles, “They’re almost as cute as you are.”

Having served in the Delta Force, Frankie knew damn well how to shoot and had a formidable aim, so you had no doubt he would have won that prize for you.

Grabbing the air gun, Frankie closes one eye to take aim and focuses on the target he needs to hit; you plug your ears with your index fingers and take a step back as he squares his shoulders. He pulls the trigger and, in a split second, the shot goes off and hits the target right in the middle.

“You did it!” you jump with excitement as you wrap your arms around his neck and leave a sweet kiss on his cotton candy lips.

“Well done!” the stall holder compliments him and shakes his hand, “Come on, pick a prize for your girlfriend.” he encourages him as he points at the plushies.

“I’d like that pink octopus.”

“Our third date...” you sigh, a sad smile curving your lips as you put the stuffed animal back into the box.

Frankie shuffles on the concrete floor and comes to sit closer to you, “I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you when we were on the ferris wheel.”

His confession takes you by surprise, and you feel tears gather in your eyes, mostly because you’re not together now, but even more so because you’re still in love with him despite everything.

He laces his hand with yours and squeezes it gently.

“I’m so sorry I had to let you go.” he tells you, voice raw and filled with emotions. “You always deserved better.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Frankie?” you swallow hard and try to stay calm, but his words have broken through your heart and you’re already crying.

“It’s the truth.” he sighs as he rests his head against the wall. “You deserve someone better, someone like Will or Santiago, not a guy like me with PTSD and drug problems.”

“Frankie…”

“I didn’t want to drag you into all that with me.”

You can’t wrap your head around what he’s saying to you, where these words are coming from and why he’s telling you this.

“What if I wanted to spend my whole life with you? What if I wanted to offer you my help to get you out of that?” you sob as you dry your tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

“You couldn’t have done it.” he shakes his head and exhales deeply.

“How do you know that?!” you ask him brazenly, almost yelling at him.

Frankie remains silent, probably trying to formulate an answer that seems valid and doesn’t hurt your even more, and you swear you can hear the gears of his brain turning and turning in search of the most plausible justification.

“I still love you Frankie.” you whisper in the end, breaking the deafening silence that had settled between you.

You feel as if a huge boulder has been lifted from your lungs, and you take a long, shuddering breath.

“I never stopped loving you.” you add, turning to him and searching his features in the darkness. “I would never back down from anything, I was always ready to help you and support you in everything. I was convinced and still am convinced that you can overcome all obstacles, Frankie. And… we can do it together.”

You are offering him another chance on a silver plate, you are offering yourself to him as a sacrifice, but you would do it a thousand more times for him, for your Frankie.

“I-I don’t want to let you down, you know?” he sobs, his hand trembling. “I’ve tried so many times to get out of this before, too many maybe, but I’ve never been able to.”

“I know,” you nod and caress his cheek, “but I believe in you and I know you can do it. We’ll do it together if you want to, one step at a time.”

Frankie bursts into tears, lashing out and releasing all those emotions he was holding inside, and you pull him into a hug as he rests his head in the crook of your neck, shaking like a frightened puppy.

“I will always be there for you, Frankie. Don’t you ever forget that.” you whisper as you stroke his hair, tangling your fingers into the soft curls under his baseball cap.

He tilts his face to the side and lifts it up just enough to press his lips to yours in a desperate kiss, a kiss that exudes unconditional love and has the salty taste of your tears and his fears, a painful and necessary kiss.

“I was a fool to let you go, I was a complete idiot...”

“Hey, stop it.” you silence him with another kiss.

“I love you.” he tells you when you separate to catch your breath. “I love you and I want you to stay, need you to stay. Please.”

You rest your forehead against his and kiss the tip of his nose. “I’m not leaving, Frankie.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief and grazes your cheek with the back of his hand.

“I think maybe we need to get out of here first.” you say with a smile to break the tension, and he nods, helping you to your feet.

Frankie sneers lightly and puts his hands on your hips. “Maybe we should have locked ourselves in here sooner knowing it would have led to this.”

You shake your head with a chuckle, and Frankie swears he never wants to live without hearing that sound ever again.

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @withakindheartx @katiebits1 @evelynseventyr @soltaasbruxas @darnitdraco @janebby @mswarriorbabe80 @audreyispunk @agingerindenial @jediknight122 @princess76179 @elegantduckturtle @t3rradactyl @cheekygeek05 @serini-ty @tobealostwanderer @tothejedi @castleamcc @thatgirlselectryc @rosie-posie08 @snow30285 @radiowallet @heythere-mel @hnt-escape @greeneyedblondie44 @carstwirs @hb8301 @sara-alonso @pedrostories @phoenixhalliwell @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @sleep-tight1 @jennacide02 @aana4664 @jasterslegacy @almaeunice @hexedeslichts @midwesternwitchery @what-iwish-you-knew @littlemisspascal @ew-erin @mssarahpaulsooonn @liviiii98 @spideysimpossiblegirl @moparmama927 @dindjxrinslover @stevie75 @pascalisthepunkest @buckeyegirl419

FRANKIE TAGLIST: @hunnambabe @writeforfandoms @linnie0119 @shinymoonstarfish @gingib @pedritoispunk @finpau @candywh0r3

#francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales angst #frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

307 notes · View notes

krabjoons · 3 years

Text

omg professor... what are you doing?!?!?! [pjm]

⮕ summary: park jimin is the hottest, most popular guy at school. the only catch? he also just so happens to be your teacher.

⮕ pairing: park jimin x reader, mentions of jaebum x reader

⮕ genre: smut, university!au, pwp

⮕ word count: 12.8k

⮕ rating: 18+, nsfw

⮕ warnings: hard dom!jimin x bratty-ish sub!y/n, professor!jimin x university student! y/n (he’s 27-28 ish and she’s 21-22), fuckboy!jaebum, pussy eating, fingering, thigh riding, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk (carries the whole fic tbh), degradation, edging, dumbification, impact play (pussy + ass spanking), manhandling, humiliation, exhibitionism, creampie, teasing, praise, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, crying, kissing/making out, jimin’s a meanie but y/n likes it (aka i go ham on the degradation and edging you have been warned), aftercare (like 500 words of it :P)

⮕ a/n: this took too long to come out and has literally been sitting in my drafts since august but here it is! writing this was definitely a rollercoaster because this was my first smut and honestly i felt like it was really bad at times but other times i was like wtf this is so hot,, ANYWAYS, i’m glad that i’m posting it and getting over that fear of imperfection. i hope that you guys enjoy this piece :). i would also like to add that please don’t hook up with your teachers… if you do, that’s on you i take no responsibility for that whatsoever lol. excuse the title i literally have no idea what to change it to but i like it the way it is tbh LMFAOOO OK I’LL STOP RAMBLING NOW BYEEE ILY ALL

University has never been when you’ve expected. When you first graduated high school and came here, you expected your late teenage years to be filled with just as much studying as high school combined with only a few parties here and there. You didn’t expect to make as many friends as you did and certainly did not expect to be known as the girl with the high grades and even higher alcohol tolerance. No longer are you the shy Y/N L/N that walked through the entrance gates on the first day of school; you’ve changed a lot.

It was a surprise to you. With academics taking precedence much of your life, the freedom university provided you with was welcomed - perhaps a little too much. You quickly learned that polar bear shots were great to keep you in a good mood at parties and that eating mangoes before smoking gave you a better high. And, you also learned about sex.

Admittedly, the first time you had a hookup, it was awkward and messy (at least for you… it was a guy, what else were you expecting?) but with more practice, you were able to get the hang of it. You’ve found your tastes and now willingly talk about who catches your eye to your best friends, something you never thought you’d do last year.

Speaking of who catches your eye, as of now it’s Park Jimin. A really hot guy, according to your friends, and according to you, an even better voice. When you first walked into your Applications of Economics class, you nearly spit out your Starbucks drink after you saw the astonishingly handsome man with silky black hair in a dress shirt and tie. Surprisingly formal for a university student, you thought, but you weren’t one to talk, considering your current outfit of business casual.

Only, he wasn’t a student. He was your teacher. You should’ve put the pieces together earlier but you didn’t. Let's just say a Coconut Lime Refresher is good for hangovers, and you needed one desperately (basically, you were drunk as hell the night before and were still in the process of recovering). It certainly didn’t take long before all of campus was talking about the new economics professor who was hotter than hell. Girls (and some guys) immediately tried transferring into his class, one of them being your best friend Lisa, just to get a glimpse of how attractive he was. You remember a couple of girls offering you literal cash to transfer out, but you didn’t.

A good call, thinking about it now. You’ve gotten closer with Mr. Park, although it’s nothing too special yet, the two of you are on good terms and have even hugged before (you still get giddy thinking about it). Y/N from 2 years ago would be screaming her head off at how bold you’ve gotten, but now, you can’t bring yourself to care. Park Jimin is a hot guy, and you’re pretty hot too (if you must admit), so it would only be logical if the two of you could hook up. Unsurprisingly, you’ve lost your shame, nothing but thoughts of your teacher filling your mind in your spare time.

So here you are, another day of university, as monotonous as ever. The only highlight of your day will be the morning, where you have a class with Mr. Park. You've started changing your style a bit recently, opting for more, let’s just leave it at provocative outfits. Walking into the room, you take your usual seat in the front, closest to Mr. Park’s desk.

The class progresses like it normally does, starting with a review of the work from the last class and a discussion about the new material. "I’m going to give you guys this last half hour of class to review the material individually if you want or you can leave early, I don’t mind. I know it's a Friday so there’s gonna be some parties around campus, if you want to prepare yourselves for that then go ahead." Your professor glances around the room, smirking at you when mentioning the parties. You flush and look away, biting your lower lip.

You make the decision to stay in the classroom while the majority of the other students file out of the room. "I'll be available for any questions," Jimin calls out, returning to his desk across from you.

Sticking to your reputation, you get a head start on the assignment and easily work through the homework. Surprisingly, you forget about Jimin for the time being, focused on finishing your assignment so that you have as little work as possible to do after classes. You don’t notice your teacher looking at you, admiring the way you put so much effort into the things you’re passionate about. Hearing a student call his name, he gets up to help him.

Surprisingly, Mr. Park has assigned a disturbingly low amount of homework, probably because of the upcoming weekend and maybe a pop quiz later next week (ugh). You’ve finished your work in a mere twenty minutes and are surprised to find that Jimin is not at his desk when you look up from your laptop. You turn around, looking for him, and see that he’s helping another student. Whipping out your phone, you text your best friend Lisa (who just so conveniently, also thirsts over Jimin the same way you do).

to lisa: hey i finished classwork for mr park and have like 10 minutes of free time now lol

Instantly, she responds as if she wasn’t in class. Then again, she has never been one to pay too much attention to her professors.

from lisa: ayo talk to him

from lisa: also save me from bio i literally cannot

Smiling slightly, you respond to her.

to lisa: i WOULD but he’s helping other students

from lisa: then be like "m- mister park, i- need help please" and use puppy eyes

to lisa: LMFAOO PLEASE he’d be like whats wrong with you since when did you struggle in this class

to lisa: but i mean, anything to hear him talk i guess

from lisa: god i'm so jealous you have him early so you can hear his morning voice it must be hot asf

to lisa: it is omg

from lisa: god what if he moans like that it'd be such a turn on

to lisa: dUDE STOP NO the way this is literally true like if he has a good sip of coffee or a pastry he likes hes gonna go all "mmmm I wish you could try this" pls its so fking hot

to lisa: like SIR I WANNA TRY YOU or you to try me no complaints

from lisa: wtf he finishes his breakfast before my class so i can't even hear it tf I hate it here

to lisa: u have him right after my block bro at leAST you have him

to lisa: what ab the people who don't even have him

from lisa: idk what i'd do honestly. imagine not having a literal sex god teaching you every day i pity those who dont

You’re about to type out a response when a smooth voice sounds out from behind you, "alright guys, you’re good to go. Have a good weekend!" You jump in your seat, not realizing that your teacher was helping the student right behind you for the past five minutes.

As the rest of the class begins to pack up, you pray that he hasn’t seen you talking about your sexual fantasies less than five feet away from him. Mr. Park doesn’t say anything, so you must be in the clear, right? You’re hoping and praying that he didn’t find out, but your heart rate is already rising and you’re getting a sick feeling in your stomach. Your gut must be trying to tell you something.

Well, your gut’s telling you that the universe must not be on your side because as soon as you stand up, he says, "Ms. L/N, can you stay a bit after class? I have a few things I want to discuss with you." Cheeks flushing hot, you squeak out a "yes, sir."

When everyone has left and it’s just the two of you left in the room, Jimin pulls up a seat next to his desk. "Sit," he commands, leaning on his desk. You scramble to your feet and walk over, mind buzzing with thoughts. Oh god, what if he tells the administration department? Then you’d definitely be punished and maybe even kicked out of the school. Maybe you could make up a story? Oh, it’s ANOTHER Park Jimin, haha. Definitely NOT my teacher. Even if you did, they could go the rest of the texts between you and Lisa and you’d be screwed. And not to be petty or anything, but being kicked out would mean that you wouldn’t be able to be in Jimin’s class anymore and wouldn’t be able to see him. Oh, and the bigger problem would be that you’d also be unable to get your degree.

You start internally panicking, heart rate picking up even when your teacher rolls up his sleeves and leans down in front of you. Stop thinking about dirty things FOR ONCE, Y/N, half of you screams, while the other half of you has already started fantasizing about things which shouldn’t be thought about, especially with one of the people in the fantasies less than a couple of feet in front of you. With his hands on his thighs, the ones you’ve thought about riding far too often, he smirks.

"So, I heard you wanna try me?"

You gulp, absolutely mortified that Jimin caught you. Yes, he was attractive, and you would do practically anything to fuck him, but you didn’t expect to be humiliated into admitting it. "Um, no sir! I mean, maybe, but not in the way you think!" you ramble. Shut up, Y/N, part of you screams. You’re only digging yourself into a deeper hole.

"Yeah, sure. Because I definitely didn’t see what you were talking about with your friend. Be honest, Y/N," he says, smirking down at you. "You think about me, don't you? I'm not new to this. I see the way girls like you look at me. I know the way they talk about me when they think I can't hear. I know the way you think. Who would've thought? Little Miss L/N, all prim and proper on the outside, would be so filthy deep down?"

"Sir, I- uh. I-" you stutter out, cheeks burning furiously hot.

"You what? You're not going to try to prove your innocence now, are you? Not when you've gotten this far, hm? Getting to do what you’ve wanted after all this time?" he asks, standing up from his desk, and walking over to you, kneeling in front of you so that you were forced to hold eye contact.

"You know, nobody else has been as daring as you, my dear," he hums softly. "Sending promiscuous texts about their teacher in the very class they're in. Rubbing their thighs together every time their teacher catches their eye." You shift in your seat, Jimin's words sparking the slightest of fires in your core. "Gazing ever so obviously at said teacher’s dick, too. Y/N, you amaze me. So, so brilliant. yet so, so naughty. You thought that nobody else would catch onto you? Unfortunately, you thought wrong."

"I'm s- sorry sir," you whisper out.

"You're just sorry that you got caught, Y/N. You'll keep doing this even after today," Jimin chuckles lowly. "Possibly even more after today," he adds on, taking note of how his words have affected you. Your pupils are dilated and your cheeks are starting to get flushed. "Such a dirty girl. I'm here trying to scold you, and here you are, getting turned on by my words. Is this why you ask so many questions, doll? To hear my voice?"

You bite your lip in a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness, nodding imperceptibly. The logical, studious side of you is thinking, oh my god, is this really happening? Am I going to fuck my teacher? I really shouldn’t be doing this. The relaxed, easygoing side of you (pretty much your horny side) is thinking, finally, it’s happening. I’m going to FINALLY be fucking Park Jimin.

"What else have you imagined about my voice, hm? How I'd whisper into your ear while pounding into you? Hear me moan as your tight cunt clenches around my dick? Tell you how good you're making me feel? Reminding you how much of a slut you are to fuck your teacher in the middle of his classroom, where anyone could walk in?" he continues, seeing you shift in your seat more. "Would you like that?" he asks.

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I would," you whisper. You have to consciously clench your thighs together to keep them from spreading at his words.

"Hm, I don't believe you. Try again another time, darling," he sighs, leaning back on his knees, getting ready to stand up. You don't want this, whatever it is, to be over that quickly so you make up your mind. Swallowing your pride and succumbing to the dull throb in your panties, you pout.

"But professor, I really do want you. I want you to make me feel good and I wanna make you feel good. Please," you whine out. "I wanna be thinking about you all the time because you fucked me so well in class. And when my friends talk about wanting to get in your pants, I want to be the only one who already has. Please, Mr. Park. I need you." you breathe out. At this point, the pressure in your core is rising steadily, and only intensifies when you see the way your teacher's eyes are glazed over in lust and eyebrows are furrowed. Your eyes travel down the expanse of his face to his lips, plump and pink. Oh, the number of times you've wished to kiss them, imagined them suckling on your clit. And now that Jimin knows, perhaps it's finally coming true.

"You'd like that, hm? God, you're so dirty," Jimin mutters, inching closer to you, cautiously placing a hand on your knee. Your legs instantly part to make room for him in between and he inches forward. "Does dirty talk really turn you on that much, Y/N? I can smell you through your panties," he remarks.

"Mr. Park, please do something," you whimper. And with that, Jimin pulls you over to his desk and sits you on the edge. You spread your legs and he stands in between them. He leans his head closer to you until he's next to your ear.

"Want me to get you off with my words? You seem to like that already and I haven't even tried, doll. Or perhaps," he pauses, bunching up your skirt so that it pools at your waist. "You want me to touch you?"

You nod eagerly, chest heaving in anticipation. "I want both Mr. Park. I want you," you purr salaciously. And with that, your teacher lets out a low growl and presses his lips onto yours harshly. It’s already bruising, but you just can’t get enough of the way he tastes of caramel and coffee and how ridiculously soft his lips are, so you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in even closer. He seems a little put off by how eager you are, but once he hears you sigh in enjoyment, he melts into your eager grasp.

His hands start sliding down your waist so that they are resting on your upper thighs, and he rubs comforting circles into them, trailing them closer and closer to your panties. He breaks off from the kiss to look down and smirks back at you before joining his lips to yours with even more fervor and you praise yourself for deciding to wear your lace thong today. You feel his tongue slide against your lips, asking for permission to enter and your mouth immediately complies.

The feeling of his hot breath on your lips and thumbs rubbing against the juncture of your thighs has you feeling needy for more. Jimin swirls the tip of his tongue against yours, the filthy action turning you on even more. You moan into his mouth and thread your fingers through his hair, causing him to let out a low groan.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the two of you break apart. Chest heaving up and down, you take note of your teacher's face. His lips are redder and plumper than ever before. His cheeks have the faintest blush on them. His eyes, the ones that crinkle into a happy smile whenever you answer a question correctly in class, are now clouded over with deep lust.

"Get onto all fours. On the desk," Jimin commands, and you immediately comply. Now your ass is facing Jimin and you're very nearly completely exposed to him, save the thong you're wearing.

"God, you're such a slut," Jimin moans out at the sight. "Do you get dressed up like this just so you can get fucked in class? Such a short fucking skirt that I can see whatever you're wearing underneath whenever you bend over, hm? You wanted me to give in to you, doll?" When you nod weakly, he chuckles, "I don't think so."

Arching your back so your ass sticks out even more, you whine, "professor, please fuck me. I'm so fucking horny, please." Jimin cups your pussy from outside your panties and leans over you, "I don't think so, kitten. I'm the one calling the shots here." Your pussy flutters in response and Jimin slaps it lightly, chuckling. The brief stimulation has your cunt clenching around nothing.

He spreads your knees slightly and begins trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs to the arch of your back. Feeling his breath so close to your core has you getting wetter by the minute in anticipation. He finally hovers over your back, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, muttering, "I'm going to wreck you, Y/N", and you feel yourself clench in excitement.

"Then do it," you whisper, and Jimin hooks his fingers around the waistband of your thong and pulls it down, so slow that it's almost painful, exposing your heat to the cool air of the classroom and causing you to shiver in response.

You don't see it, but his eyes widen seeing the strings of your slick connecting your pussy to your panties. He takes a look at your core and his mouth starts watering. You're soaking and clenching around nothing, thighs shaking ever so slightly in anticipation.

He flattens his tongue and licks a flat stripe up your pussy, from your clit to your entrance. He pauses to suck some of your juices from it, but your cunt just keeps leaking them out. He runs his tongues through your folds over and over again until you let out a wanton moan.

Encouraged by your reaction, he hooks his arms around the side of your hips, nuzzling closer into your pussy. He laps at your cunt and purposely avoids your clit, only heightening the pressure in your core.

"Mr. Park," you whine out, pushing your hips back. "Please. More," you pant out. Suddenly, Jimin spanks your right ass cheek, rubbing his hand over the fleshy globe soothingly afterward. You let out a little yelp and turn around to catch his eyes.

"More what?" he spits out, smiling at you evilly. "My little slut's gotta tell me what she wants. How else would I give it to her?" your mind is foggy, pleasure causing you to lose track of everything other than the man behind you. "W- want you," you garble out, "t- to play with my clit too."

"What's the magic word, doll?" Jimin teases, breath fanning over your slit, causing your walls to clench erratically. "Please, Mr. Park," you whine, pushing your cunt closer to his face. He smirks at you, avoiding your advances.

"Good girl," he praises before finally positioning himself just barely in front of your clit. You feel him blow cool air onto your slit, but the temperature of it is magnified even more due to how wet you are. You whine out, expressing your displeasure, and Jimin finally indulges you by taking your throbbing button between his plush lips.

"F- fuck, sir, yes! Right there, please," you squeal, back arching even more. Jimin hums, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can feel yourself growing wetter, your entrance squeezing out more and more of your arousal down to where Jimin's lips are sucking. He momentarily pauses to flatten his tongue out, letting your juices drip onto them and slurping them up eagerly. The obscene noises behind you combined with the low thrum of student life just outside the classroom door mesh together to have you realize where exactly the two of you are doing this.

You glance at the clock, and your eyes widen. "Prof- oh my god, Pr- Professor Park," you moan out, trying to keep your focus. Jimin again hums, making you jolt in pleasure. "I- uh, there’s only ten minutes until the next block of classes start. I need t- to leave in around five." When Jimin releases from you with a pop, you can feel your slick running down your thighs and some dripping onto his desk. You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of everyone walking in during class to see the mess Jimin made of you on his desk and again squeeze around nothing.

"Well then," Jimin hums lazily, "guess you better cum within five minutes if you want to cum at all." He dives back into your heat, tongue skillfully running through your folds. He cycles between kitten licking and delivering harsh sucks to your clit and dipping his tongue into your entrance. You grind against his face in desperation to reach your release, and just when you finally feel it hurtling towards you at an alarming rate, suddenly, Jimin gets up.

He leans over you, trailing a hand up your slick-ridden thigh to cup your bare heat and mutters lowly in your ear, "time’s up." Your heart drops in frustration, and you whine out. Grinding into his palm, you beg for him to touch you once again, knowing nothing but how good he was making you feel just seconds ago. "Mr. P- Park, please. Make me cum," you cry out.

Jimin spanks your pussy, a wet echo sounding through the room. You jolt forward and your cunt leaks out even more of your arousal in response to the combination of pain and pleasure. "I said no," he hisses, "you couldn't cum in time, you don't deserve to cum."

"God, look at you, you're a mess. Bent over and spread out so desperately for me. You taste so sweet, doll. So responsive, too," Jimin murmurs, lazily rubbing your slit. He's, once again, avoiding your clit and driving you insane. Your sensitive nub is now swollen and throbbing with need, slick with your arousal.

"Has anyone touched you as well as I do, Y/N?" he asks. When you shake your head, he slaps your cunt again, another wet sound echoing through the room. "Words, baby girl," he goads, fingers dancing through your folds.

"N- no, sir. they can’t make me feel half as good as you did. I’ve al- I’ve always been thinking about having you touch m- my cunt and making me cum really hard. and I- shit I’m so needy sir, I wanna cum," you garble out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You feel Jimin’s hand leave your pussy, exposing your soaked heat to the cool air of the room. Slowly, he pulls your thong up your thighs and the light touches make you clench in desperation and whine out.

He marvels at the sight of you so fucked out in front of him. The way his top student was falling apart at the slightest touches he gave you. And the words you said. God, to have you say such filthy things in comparison to your gentle demeanor, all because of him, it really did something to him.

Jimin finishes clothing you and presses a kiss to the top of your ass and walks across the room to get some tissues to clean up the mess you made. Still perched on the desk, you watch him needily, thighs rubbing together to relieve some of the pressure from being denied your orgasm. "So I really don’t get to cum?" You ask meekly, holding back a sob. "I need to cum, Mr. Park."

He chuckles, "there’s a difference between need and want, doll. You want to cum, you don't need to cum. But what you do need," he returns to you, leaning down so that his face is right in front of yours, "is to get to your next class." Your face, once eagerly lit up in anticipation, has now fallen in disappointment.

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a "fine" and get off his desk, feeling your arousal make your thighs stick together. Your panties are uncomfortably damp and you’re so wet you can even smell yourself. "Can you make me cum later?" you question Jimin, sliding closer to him and playing with his tie, praying that he’ll be the one to make you release instead of having to do it yourself when you get home.

"If you play nice I might. If not, then… we’ll see," he hums, handing you a tissue to clean yourself up while heading to wipe down his desk. "I have a lunch meeting in the second half of the lunch block, so if you really need me, I’ll be here before then."

You grin and nod in excitement. "Cool! so I’ll-" you begin before the first students from the next class start filing in, making you jump. "The door wasn’t locked?" you whisper frantically to him. "We could have been caught, Jimin! Are you crazy?!"

He smirks at you, "didn’t you say you wanted it that way? Where anyone could walk in? I only did what you asked, doll." You’re left speechless as he continues. "Anyways, you should be in your next class pretty soon. I’ll write a note to your professor just in case you’re late. But get going, yeah? I’ll see you in time for our meeting." He hands you a slip of paper and straightens up, tossing the dirty tissues into the trash can in the corner of the room.

"Okay class, we’re going to get started soon. I presume you all did the reading, so just prepare for the discussion we’re going to be having about it when the bell rings," he calls out to the class. Turning to face you, he questions quietly with genuine concern, "you okay? Did I push you too much for our first time?"

Your mind swirls with thoughts. Our first time. The words fill you with giddy excitement. It’s just the two of you that know about this, the dirty things you were doing just minutes ago, very nearly getting caught. Knowing that this won’t be the only moment you guys are doing this, fills you with excitement.

"On the contrary, actually," you tease your teacher with a smile. "It was really nice honestly, but perhaps, you didn’t do enough." You bite your lip at the way Jimin's eyes darken and he looks away. "Get to class, Ms. L/N. The bell will ring any minute," he says lowly, jaw slightly clenched. Your core throbs at the sight and you head towards the door.

"Goodbye, Mr. Park. Thank you!" you call out, catching sight of Lisa, who raises her eyebrows at you teasingly and mouths text me. Blushing, you nod at her before leaving the room to go to your next class.

Being "one of the smartest students on campus" comes with its perks. Like right now, for example. You always (somehow) come to class overprepared, so when your next teacher gives you a day to work on your project (which you've already finished), you head to the back of the room to text Lisa in private.

from lisa: dude wtf was that you were literally talking to Mr. Park outside of ur class time with him

from lisa: omg wait don't tell me you fucked him

from lisa: did you

to lisa: NO I DID NOT OMG I wish tho lmao

to lisa: I was asking him for help on the paper he's assigning us and to proofread it and stuff before I submit it

from lisa: omg I forgot he assigned us that shit

to lisa: dude lmao its due in a week or so you have plenty of time

from lisa: ugh literally he's such a hottie why does he have to be so into teaching

to lisa: sis commitment to something is hot

from lisa: omg ur right wait a sec tho

from lisa: dude

from lisa: omg

from lisa: he definitely has a boner

Knowing that you were likely the cause of it, you shift in your seat cockily, smiling slyly to yourself while looking down.

to lisa: whAT

to lisa: wait how big is it

from lisa: ok I dont think he’s fully hard yet he's like semi hard but barely

from lisa: LMFAO Y/N don't worry I think he’s packing seems kinda thick too

Taking in a deep breath, you look up at the ceiling. You imagine him slowly sinking into you and making you whimper at his size. Him seeing your face and growling, "if you’re really a good girl, you should be able to take it." You cross your legs tightly and rock up and down in a lame attempt to diminish the rising pressure between your thighs and look back down at your phone.

to lisa: pls thats so hot

from lisa: IKR I want him to r a i l me

to lisa: or eat me out… have you sEEN those lips of his wtf

from lisa: on god do not get me started

to lisa: pls i bet he’d be the type to tease you

Oh Lisa, if only you knew the truth behind those words.

from lisa: YES hes lowkey cocky bc he knows like the entire fucking population simps for him

from lisa: he’s def gonna make you beg to cum

to lisa: pls thats hot do not get me riled up in class istg

from lisa: too late i've already started babe ;)

You continue texting Lisa throughout the entirety of your class. Finally, you look at the clock and seeing that there are only a few more minutes till the class ends, you wrap up your conversation with her.

to lisa: hey btw i’m gonna be coming to lunch late… save me a seat at our regular spot?

from lisa: when ur best friend is a teachers pet :(( fiNE I guess I will

to lisa: love u!! xx

from lisa: love you too nerd xoxo

The bell finally rings, signaling the start of the lunch break and you immediately stand up and walk out the door, bidding your teacher goodbye and thanks.

Running into the bathroom, you do a quick check of your appearance. You tug up your skirt a bit higher and tuck in your shirt so that your outfit accentuates your curves. You glance at your face and notice how abnormally large your pupils are in comparison to most days. Jimin has completely ruined you today, just like he said he would. I'm going to wreck you, Y/N. His words echo in your ears as you make your way out to his classroom. Trying to ignore how uncomfortably wet your panties are, you knock on the door to his room.

You hear a smooth voice answer with a, "come in," and take a deep breath before opening the door to see Jimin sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. He scans you up and down, eyes taking in every inch of your figure. "Nice outfit alterations," he notes, patting his laps as a hint for you to sit on it. You quickly lock the door and make your way to him, placing one leg on each side of him so that you’re now straddling his thighs. "Is this all for me?" he asks and you tuck your head down, suddenly shy now that all his attention is on you again.

"Mhm, depends on whether you like it or not" you smile timidly, hands reaching out to play with his tie again. He laughs. "Princess, I’m conflicted. You do look very nice, all dolled up for me like this. It’d be a shame if I were to ruin your efforts. But on the other hand," he remarks, "you’ve very nearly crossed the line for indecent exposure. What if another teacher caught you like this? you would get in trouble, hm? And what if it were a student to see you like this? What would they think of you then?" He questions, causing your cheeks to burn at his words.

"They would think I- that I’m a whore. I- and that I dress up like this just so I can pass my classes," you whisper out, biting your lips in a combination of excitement and humiliation. You can feel yourself start to throb again and you start to rut against Jimin’s thighs. He shifts you over so that you are sitting on only one and slightly bounces his leg. The stimulation to your neglected cunt sends a shock running through your body and you squeeze your thighs around his.

"Look at you, so fucking desperate to cum. You think that you aren’t a little whore already, so needy for me this quickly, hm? Do you really think you deserve to cum?" He hums, admiring the way you’re worked up. He pushes up your skirt and slaps your thigh just underneath your ass. You shift away as a reaction, causing your clit to get the stimulation it finally deserved. The way your underwear rubs against your neglected bundle of nerves causes you to let out a groan and drop your head to Jimin's shoulder. He spanks you this time, making you yelp. "I asked you a question, doll."

"Mmhm, yeah," you whine out, "I deserve t- to cum, sir." At this point, your hips are moving on their own accord, shifting back and forth desperately against Jimin's thigh. He grabs your waist tightly, holding you still. "Look at me," he commands, bouncing his thigh. You mewl into his shoulder, the change in motion making you lose focus. He spanks you again, the sound echoing around the room. "Listen to directions, sweetheart. Or else you’ll get punished," he warns.

You lift your head to look at Jimin, faces just inches apart. His eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips. Slowly, you lean towards him, closing the distance between you two. He gives into your eager kiss and you glide your hands up his firm chest to run your fingers through his hair. He starts bouncing you on his thigh and you groan into his mouth. Breaking apart panting, you place your forehead against Jimin’s, moving your hips back and forth harder to increase the pressure going to your clit.

"God, Y/N, you’re so wet," Jimin pants while looking down at the way your clothed pussy drags over his thigh. "I can feel you soaking through my slacks," he says, shifting you over. just like he said, there is now a wet spot on his thigh from where you just were. Thankfully, it’s barely noticeable, but if you focus enough, you can see it.

"What are you going to do about it, hm? I have classes to teach, meetings to attend. Do you want people to see the mess you made all over me?" He hisses, spanking you to elicit an answer. "N- no, sir. I’m s- sorry," you whisper out, eyes clenched, still rutting against him. You feel your orgasm bubbling up as every second passes.

"I don't think you're sorry, doll. Look at you making a mess all over me through your panties. You're absolutely soaked, so fucking desperate to cum," he tuts, clenching his thigh muscles purposely. You gasp and shove your head into the crook of Jimin's neck, letting out a low groan.

"Mr. Park, I'm so wet because of you. I- god, I wanna cum. please. I'm so close," you mewl into him, legs starting to tighten around his thigh.

You shut your eyes, feeling your impending orgasm build up. Right when you're about to let go, Jimin holds your hips in place tightly, preventing you from moving. Squeaking out, you make an attempt to shift your pussy over his thighs. It's no use because you can feel it start to drift away slowly and you look at him in need. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you plead, "S- sir I need you to touch me again. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Jimin smiles cockily, lifting you onto his desk and spreading your legs after stripping you of your panties. You lean back so that you face the ceiling. Your eyes roll back once you feel him take your clit into his mouth. You moan and arch your back off of the desk, thighs involuntarily clenching around his head.

"God, Mr. Park, yes! O- oh, fuck, please," you blabber out incoherently, your mind hazy and overwhelmed with pleasure. "More," you whimper out without thinking.

Jimin disconnects from your heat to look up at you, murmuring, "Greedy little slut wants it all, huh? Won't even ask nicely for it. Tell me what you want, Y/N. Beg for it, and I might just give it to you."

"God, I- I want it all, professor," you call out, wiggling your hips in search of stimulation that never comes. "Want you to stuff me with your f- fingers and lick my p- pussy and make me cum. Want you to fuck me r- raw with your fat cock from behind and sp- and spank me. Want you to ma- make me cry from cumming so hard just as much as you have from not letting me cum. A- and I want you to leave hi- hickies on my thighs so that if I bend over, p- people are gonna know how much of a cockslut I am, just for you."

"Yeah? Well, I can tell you this," Jimin says, fingers dancing up your thigh closer to your sick-ridden core. "You are a cockslut. So fucking dirty. Most people come to class to learn but it seems that you come here to get off." He inserts a finger into you and your walls immediately clamp down on it. He moves the digit in and out of you smoothly, your arousal allowing the smoothest of motions. "You like that, baby? Finally having something in that tight cunt of yours?" You nod at his question, adding on "want more, sir."

"Not enough? Greedy little bitch. look at you, so needy. What are you gonna do when I have my cock out, hm?" He shoves a second finger into you and starts curling them into your heat. You arch your back to the ceiling and he hovers over you. For a moment, there’s nothing but the squelch of his fingers in your wet pussy and your panting as he stares into your eyes. Jimin's eyebrows are furrowed and he’s biting his lip - he’s focusing on something.

That "something" becomes apparent when, all of a sudden, you nearly sit upright and let out a loud moan of pleasure, "Fuck, Mr. Park! right there." His fingers continue rubbing that special spot inside you repeatedly and your legs start shaking ever so slightly. You look back at him to see a smug smile on his face. "I found it," he chuckles as you writhe underneath him. He leans down to kiss you, lips melding together.

He keeps fingering you, bringing his thumb up to ghost over your clit ever so slightly to provide enough pleasure to bring you close to your orgasm but just not enough to make you cum. You whine against his lips and he breaks the kiss, asking "you want to cum, doll?" to which you weakly nod. "Then fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how much of a little slut you are for me. How you’re a cocksleeve for me, so wet and needy as soon as I touch you, so ready for me to fuck you." He stills his digits inside of you and you buck your hips on them, rolling your pelvis repeatedly in an attempt to get to your orgasm. You reach down to provide some stimulation to your clit, but he smacks it away.

"Jim- professor, it’s not enough. I- I need more, please." Tears start welling up in your eyes at the thought of not cumming for the third time. Jimin kisses your temple, the gentle action reminding you that he’s not going to do something you can’t handle. "Please, Mr. Park. I wanna cum," you whine out, hips jerking back and forth in a pathetic attempt to chase after your high.

"Show me then, Y/N. how much you want it. A good girl can show me that she wants it bad enough and will make herself come on my fingers alone. She’s not greedy. She doesn’t need to touch herself too. She just needs my fingers to cum. I know you can be a good girl, Y/N," he goads. "Can you show me what the pretty little face of yours looks like when you cum? I bet you’ll look so beautiful, even more than you are right now, all fucked out for me."

"Hhngh, sir I- I’m trying," you pant out. "It’s just not enough. I promise I'm a good girl, I swear. Please let me cum. Oh god, I wanna cum." At this point, you’re nearly crying. You haven't ever been edged like this and are desperate for release.

Jimin sees this and purposefully retracts his hand from your cunt covered in your honeyed juices, glistening in the lights of his classroom. "Professor Park, please," you choke out weakly, chest constricting in disappointment. With a soft smile, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and cleans them off, savoring the flavor of you.

"Be a good girl for the rest of the day and then I’ll let you cum, baby," he hums. "You promise?" you plead, holding onto his arm desperately.

"I promise, Y/N," he kisses you gently and you taste the remnants of yourself on his tongue, the filthy action causing your clit to throb even more. Combined with the way your cunt is still clenched tight in preparation for an orgasm that won’t come soon, you can definitely say that you can't wait for the school day to come to an end.

"Go to lunch, doll. I have a meeting soon. Don’t think of me too much, hm? Gotta keep those straight A’s the way they are," Jimin teases, pulling down your skirt slowly, fingers just grazing your thighs. He grabs your panties. "Oh, and I think I'll keep these for now," he says cheekily, putting them in his pocket. "They didn’t seem to be doing their job when you were riding my thigh."

You watch him in shock, cheeks flushing red hot. "I- okay. uh, I’m going to lunch now, Jimin. Have a good lunch and meeting, I guess?" you say awkwardly, shuffling to the door with him, tugging your skirt down.

"Jimin? We’re on a first-name basis already, Y/N? Don’t let anybody hear you call me that in class, baby," he winks, holding the door open and you nod, preoccupied with the little "situation" your skirt just barely hides. You can feel yourself still leaking down your inner thighs, and pray that nobody’s going to notice when you walk into the dining hall.

"Ugh! Bitch, what took you so long?" Lisa exclaims when you sit down next to her with your lunch. You pout. "I wasn't even gone for that long."

"Ha! That long, my ass. You were gone for more than half of the break! I had to tell Jaebum and his cronies to fuck off on my own! I’m not as intimidating when you’re not around, though, so I don’t think it worked. They’ll probably come over again soon." Lisa rolls her eyes. You snort, "One of them probably likes you, that’s why they keep bothering you."

"They just like any female and will take what they can get," Lisa mutters, "but anyway! How was your meeting with Mr. Park? Did you solve his boner problem?" she wiggles her eyebrows.

You clear your throat. "No, Lisa I did not. I'm obviously above that," you say in a sarcastic tone. "I simply offered to," you tease. Lisa squeals and slaps your arm in response. "But for real though," she says. "Anyone that gets to hook up with mister Park Jimin automatically wins at life," and you hum in agreement.

You scan at the dining hall around you and catch the eye of Jaebum sitting with his friend group. He winks at you and you roll your eyes and stand up, "come on Lisa, let’s go. Those assholes are going to come over any second if we stay here any longer." You drag her to your guys’ next class.

The bell rings and the two of you burst out of the classroom. Thank god that’s over. Only one more class left, you think to yourself, gripping your books tighter to your chest in excitement.

"Jesus fuck, since when were you this eager to get to the last class of the day, Y/N? I thought you loved staying in school for as long as possible," Lisa huffs out. You steer her into the direction of your locker, right across from Jimin’s classroom.

"I'm picking up my books, you dummy. Be grateful I paid for this locker because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to put your books here." You put in the code and exchange your books while Lisa checks herself in the magnetic mirror attached to the door. you have to be careful when bending over because otherwise you’ll flash the entire school, so you do a weird sit-squat thing. "Geeking out over lockers? You act as if you’re still in high school, Y/N," Lisa teases. "Only during the school day," you wink up at her.

Lisa spots someone through the reflection of the mirror and groans out. "Incoming," she warns, rolling her eyes and turning around. "Wha-" you begin when you get cut off by a smooth voice behind you.

"Damn, L/N. didn’t know you wore skirts this short on campus. Looks good on you," the guy winks. "But it would look even better on my bedroom floor." You hold back a gag and turn to Lisa, raising your eyebrows in exasperation.

"Wow, I see the originality," Lisa says in the most sickeningly sweet voice. "What do you want, Jaebum?" He chuckles and places an arm over your head, leaning over you. "Well, I’m having a party tonight, and it would be amazing if you two little ladies could attend. Be mine and Jackson’s plus one?" he says. You’re about to say no when he leans in closer to you, inches away from your face, "plus you can get the high-quality drinks for free, not the cheap booze we leave out for the randos who show up."

"You’re probably gonna drug them or something. No thanks, dickwad." you huff out after a second’s hesitation, pushing him away, ready to go to your next class. "Nah, baby. I may be a fuckboy but at least I've got morals. Whaddya say? You get me off, I get you off? Maybe make you cum so many times it starts hurting? You look like you haven’t been able to get an orgasm in a while, you’re so uptight, L/N," Jaebum smirks.

"You fuckin-" you start to hiss out but you’re shut off again. This time it’s by someone different. Jimin. "Mr. Lim, I don’t think it’s necessarily appropriate to discuss your sexual endeavors while in an academic setting. I’ll be letting you off with a warning for now." He turns to you, eyes flitting across your DIY skimpy outfit. You feel your cunt leak more of your honeyed juices under his piercing gaze and clamp your thighs together to keep them from dripping down your thighs. "And Ms. L/N, I expected better from you. You’re not typically one to do these things in a school environment. Get to class, the two of you," he says, turning back to his classroom.

"Oh," he adds, "and Y/N. fix your outfit. I would hate to see you get dress coded by a teacher who isn’t as lenient." You, Lisa, and Jaebum stare at his back in shock as he heads inside his classroom.

"Well, uh, that just happened," Lisa states, turning to you. "Ready to go?" you nod numbly, mind swirling with embarrassment and excitement as you tug down your skirt. The two of you walk to the last class of the day while Jaebum calls out, "my place after 11, L/N! I’ll be waiting!", making you wince. Great, now a bunch of people are gonna think you’re hooking up with him.

The last bell of the day finally rings, and you head to your locker after bidding Lisa goodbye. You put your books in your locker and head to the bathroom to fix your clothes. You decide to tease Jimin even more by adjusting your skirt so that it ends just at the bottom of your ass. It’s a terribly risky decision; if you walk too fast, you risk flashing everyone. You’ve tried to wipe the slick off the juncture of your thighs, but it keeps getting replaced with more of your arousal.

You speed walk down the halls and fling open the door to see that Jimin isn’t in his classroom - or so you think. Once you take a few steps into the room, you hear the door shut behind you and lock. Jimin looks at you up and down. "You didn’t fix your outfit, Ms. L/N. Looks like I’ll have to dress code you for indecent exposure then," he hums, heading to his desk to take out a slip of paper.

"Wait Jimin, what? I thought we were- um. You know, going to-" you splutter out, realizing he was actually serious. You can’t have this on your academic record! What would your parents think?

"Going to what? Fuck? Seems like you already have someone else for that, Y/N," he shakes his head, grabbing a pen. You reach forward quickly to stop him, hand, gripping his forearm in desperation.

"No Mr. Park, I- I never told Jaebum yes. I just-" you try to explain, but Jimin cuts you off. "You what?" he asks bitingly, taking you by surprise. "Did you think that you could just come back and hop on my dick after nearly making out with another guy? God, you really are a slut, aren’t you?"

You rub your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the steadily mounting pressure in your core at Jimin’s words. "Look at you, I told you to fix your outfit and you fucking pulled up your skirt. You pulled it up. You don’t listen to me, talk to your friends about how much you want me to rail you, and yet let other guys make plans to hook up with you. And you expect me to let you cum after all of that?" he continues, noticing the effect he has on you. "You really think I should let you cum, Y/N? I'll tell you what I think. I think I should leave you like this, dripping and needy for me. So ready to get fucked by me but not being able to."

Your eyes widen, "no, please professor, no!"

"Should I jack off in front of you and not let you touch me? Maybe then would you learn your lesson? Or maybe I should spank your ass till it’s blue you’re unable to sit. Would that work, hm? What if I just send you back to the dorms? You could ask Jaebum to touch you, even if he can’t make you half the mess I can," he continues, pushing you onto his desk. He grabs your jaw and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him, humiliated, with tears in your eyes.

"Aw," he pouts sarcastically, "is the baby crying? Because I didn’t let her cum? Well, princess, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Little cocksluts like you don’t deserve to cum so easily."

"P- professor, please. You can punish me. Teach me a lesson. B- but just please let me cum." You whimper out, attempting to cross your legs together to assuage your aching clit, but Jimin stops you by holding your knee with his other hand.

He slowly trails his hands up your bare thigh, admiring the way your soft skin seems to get chills at his touch. He pushes you back onto the desk and you prop yourself up your elbows to look at him. "Are you a cockslut, Y/N?" he asks, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers.

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I’m nothing but a hole for you to fuck," you whimper meekly as he pushes up your skirt. He pushes apart your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the desk. "Damn right you are. Nothing but a little whore that I can use to get off. I’m going to fuck you here in school like you’ve never been fucked before. And this dick you’ve been thinking about all this time, it’s going to finally be in you, and I better not hear any complaints," Jimin growls, pumping his length in his hand. "No sir," you whimper out.

"You on the pill?" he asks, to which you reply with a yes. He teases your slit with the pink head of his cock and your entrance flutters at the touch. "But on another note, tell me if you want to stop. I don’t want to push you too much."

You smile, "Jimin, you’re being too kind. I promise I'll tell you. But I did say before perhaps you weren’t doing enough. Mr. Park, I want you to ruin me," you bite your lips, mimicking his words from earlier in the day. He cocks his head in amusement.

"Don’t worry princess, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing." Without warning, he thrusts forward into your heart, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. The girth of his cock stretches open your cunt with painful pleasure. Once he’s sheathed inside you, you can feel him very near your cervix.

You let out a shaky breath but it’s cut off as he continues thrusting in and out of you, wet slaps echoing through the room. "M- Mr. Park-" you moan incoherently.

"Fucking take it, Y/N. You wanted me to ruin you? Well here I am doing it; be fucking grateful." he rolls his hips into yours, hands gripping your sides harshly.

"Th- thank you Mr. Park, s- so much," you nearly sob out, almost crying at the relief of being fucked. You’re so turned on that your walls are clenching around Jimin’s dick so hard that he grips your jaw harshly. Gritting his teeth, he spits, "loosen up, babe. You’re so fuckin’ tight." You whine and try to relax but the stimulation Jimin’s providing has your eyes rolling back instead.

He snakes a hand down to your stomach and under your skirt, circling your throbbing clit. Your pussy flutters at the stimulation and you bite your lip harshly. He changes his angle slightly, causing your thighs to start shaking. His precum and your honeyed juices drip out your sopping cunt, the sound of wet slaps echoing around the room.

"Mmmmh," you moan out softly, back arching slightly. You can feel Jimin hitting your g-spot with impeccable accuracy each time. Doubled with the way his thumb is rubbing circles on your sensitive clit, you feel yourself reaching your orgasm. You try to suppress the giveaway signs of your impending release, knowing that Jimin, in order to "teach you a lesson" of sorts, is likely to take it away from you, so you attempt to just breathe out, "Jimin, fuck, it feels so good."

"Yeah, you like that, baby?" he thrusts into you deeper and harder and you bite your upper lip to stop your moans from slipping out. "Come on Y/N, let me hear those pretty little moans. Let everyone else know how well I'm fucking you, how good I make you feel," Jimin urges.

As soon as he utters those words, you give in, letting high pitched whimpers spill from your lips. Your pussy lets out filthy squelching noises at each of his thrusts, your wetness dripping down your ass and onto the desk. You feel your walls tightening around his cock and try to fight it off, but Jimin can already tell of your impending orgasm. He pulls out of you, leaving your warm and soaked cunt open to the air.

"Fuck," you exclaim in frustration, bringing your hands up to cover your face so Jimin doesn’t see your face, tears starting to spill down your face. It’s frustrating you so much that he won’t let you cum. That he enjoys seeing you whimpering and teary-eyed for him. Your thighs haven’t stopped shaking and Jimin parts them after you close them. He pulls down your arms and smiles evilly.

"Well, what do we have here," he exclaims, "looks like the baby finally did start crying. Come on, Y/N, I thought you had it in you. But look at how you’re spread out on this desk for me, such a fucking mess. I bet you like it, huh? Dirtying up my desk with that cunt of yours."

"I need to cum, Mr. Park," you choke out, trying to gather your thoughts. "I need to cum now." your teacher’s eyes narrow and he grips your thighs harshly. "What did you say to me?" he asks, a tone laced with dangerous amusement.

"You heard me. I-," you hesitate for a moment, but decide you’ve already put yourself through enough teasing today. You muster up your courage before saying, "I want you to make me cum now."

There’s a moment’s silence before you add on shamelessly, "o- or if it’s too much to ask of you, I- I’ll just find someone else to help me do it. Maybe Jaebum? He promised a good time a- and said he would let me cum as many times as I want."

Jimin grabs you by the chin and pulls you up. "You’re such a fucking brat, Y/N." Shifting his hand so it’s gripping your throat, he mutters, "you don’t fucking learn, do you? I thought you were smart, hm? But has the need for sex made you lose your sense? Made you turn into a dumb little bitch, ready to bend over for anyone because you’re so horny? And here I was thinking you were better than that. That you had standards. Perhaps I was wrong, hm? Would you like to tell me?"

You try to look down, away from his piercing glare, but he turns your chin to look back at him. Humiliation courses through your veins as Jimin’s gaze wanders down your body scathingly. "Look at you," he coos sarcastically. "Y/N, baby, you’re such a fucking mess. Pathetic." Suddenly, he lifts you off the desk and bends you over it, cheek pressing the top and ass exposed over the edge to him. You whimper at the feeling of your shirt being stickied from your arousal left on the table from just a few minutes ago. You try moving away from it, but Jimin holds you in place.

"Are you afraid that everyone else is going to see the mess on your shirt, Y/N? Is that why you’re trying to move?" he hovers over you from behind. "Or perhaps," he continues, hot breath tickling over the shell of your ear, "you want to continue being a brat. Make me punish you until you’re begging for me to make it stop."

He spanks you, the sound echoing across the room before you register the sting of his action. You clench involuntarily and let out the slightest of whimpers. "Fucking hell, are you this turned on? Making noises even if I don’t touch your filthy little pussy?" he asks, smacking your behind again. You bite down on your lip to avoid giving him the answer he already knows.

"Count for me. Be good and maybe I’ll finally let you cum." he commands, spanking your right ass cheek again. "O- one!" you groan. He spanks your left side, the stinging sensation causing you to leak more arousal. "Louder, Y/N. Let me hear you," he hisses, hand in your hair, and pulls you up slightly. "T- two," you stammer. another slap echoes across the room. "Three! God Mr. Park, please." At this point, you’re not even sure what you’re begging for; your mind is numb with lust.

"T- twenty! Agh, fuck, please," you squirm under Jimins grasp. The throbbing of your clit has increased tenfold, and you can practically feel the shaking of your thighs through the desk.

Jimin slips his hand between your legs, feeling the soft flesh of your inner thighs slicked with your juices. "You’re fucking dripping, Y/N. Look at you. Did getting punished turn you on this much, doll?" He swipes up your slit, teasing your fluttering hole. You scrunch your eyes in displeasure and try to back up into him, only to be stopped by a harsh smack onto your already throbbing cunt. You yelp and flop back on the desk, cheek pressing the surface.

You feel him rubbing his dick against your folds and sigh in relief. Suddenly, Jimin slams into you from behind with no warning causing you to let out a harsh groan. "Ah, professor!" you exclaim, balling your fists in pleasure at finally being stimulated. His cock seems even bigger from this angle, and your entrance stings delectably at the way he splits you open.

"You feel how tight your pussy is, princess? How tight it is for me? Nobody else makes you feel this needy. Nobody," Jimin mutters in your ear after pulling you up. He pulls your head back by your hair, exposing your neck, which he plants wet kisses on. He reaches down in front of you, tracing an achingly slow path from your stomach to your slit with his fingers. You’re reaching your orgasm at an embarrassingly fast rate due to all of the edging you’re been through, so when Jimin finally brushes over your clit, it’s no surprise that your walls tighten even more instantaneously.

"Ji- ‘m gonna cum," you moan wantonly. "Yeah? Is my little slut finally going to cum?" He hisses out at the way you tighten around him. You nod desperately, gripping his arm rubbing figure eights over your sensitive bud.

"Oh god, Jimin, I feel it coming. Please please please let me cum. I'm being good for you, Mr. Park, please let me cum," you sob out incoherently as Jimin continues railing you from behind. You feel the ridges of his cock brushing your walls and shudder at his ministrations.

"Let go, princess, I got you. Cum for me. Tell me how good I’m making you feel," Jimin snarls, snapping his hips into yours, eager to get you to finally melt in his arms. You feel your orgasm crashing over you and you clamp down on his dick, legs shaking in relief. Jimin's grip on your hair tightens as he feels you pulsing around him, getting impossibly tight. Nevertheless, he continues thrusting into you.

You mewl, trying to shift away from Jimin's hold as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing figure eights into them, "J- too m- much," you whimper out, straining against his arms.

"Yeah?" his smooth voice asks, "but I thought you wanted to cum, princess? Didn't you? I need to cum, Mr. Park. I need to cum now." He mocks you. “Well, that's what I'm doing doll. I'm. Making. You. Cum," he emphasizes each word with a harsh thrust, jolting you forward.

You're being reduced to a mess, tears streaming down your face and slick dripping down your thighs. You can feel your gummy walls tightening more and more on their own accord, without even trying. Without even realizing it, you've changed from trying to move away from Jimin's fingers to grinding down on his dick.

Jimin, however, notices this. "God, you're such a slut, Y/N. Weren't you just asking me to stop?" He raises your left leg onto the desk, allowing him to have more access to your folds. He slaps your clit when you don’t give a response and you yelp, clenching down on his dick. He slaps you a couple more times, and your cunt drips even more, making your thighs sticky with your honeyed juices. You can feel yourself nearing your orgasm once again from his motions.

Suddenly, Jimin pushes you back on his desk and begins hammering into you from behind. "You're going to cum again, aren't you? Filthy little girl, didn't you just cum? Are you really that needy for some dick?" You try to hold back a whimper from his words but it slips from your lips. "You're really a whore, aren't you, baby?"

In response, Jimin spanks you, and you yelp. "Keep doing that," he hisses when you clench down on his dick. "You like being punished, don't you?" You nod meekly in response. He smacks your already reddened ass again and you hiss at the stinging sensation. Paired with the pleasure his cock is giving you, thrusting so deep into you, you can feel yourself practically getting high off the feeling.

Jimin feels you cumming before you realize it yourself. His hips nearly stutter at the way your walls have clenched around his dick. He opts to rut his hips into yours, no longer being able to thrust in and out due to how tight you are. He reaches under your body to rub tight circles on your throbbing clit and you start cumming again, clenching erratically around his dick. "You cumming, Y/N? Be a good girl and let go for me. Get this fat cock all wet," he commands. You ball up your fists and dig your nails into your palms, pleasure coursing through your veins. Riding the course of your high, you wish for nothing more but to be in the moment.

When you come down from your orgasm, Jimin finally pulls his hard dick out of you. You feel his precum and your cum drip down your thighs. Whining, you rub them together to get rid of the feeling but it only serves to make you stickier. Jimin parts your thighs and runs a hand up them to cup your pussy, pausing to feel your cunt still clenching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He smacks your abused heat, jolting you forwards and causing you to grit your teeth in overstimulation.

He flips you over, spreading your legs open. He leans over you, rubbing the tip of his dick over your swollen and throbbing clit, making you shiver. "Prof- professor, I can’t-" you begin but are interrupted my Jimin quickly shoving into you. Gasping, you clench down onto his dick, eyes rolling back into your head.

"You can, Y/N, and you fucking will," he grunts harshly, snapping his hips into yours. You grasp at his arm after feeling him in you deeper than before. The head of his cock nearly kisses your cervix and his impossibly hard dick stretches your tight cunt open even more, making you wince at the pleasurable pain.

"I- oh god, I really can’t. It feels-" you choke out through your tears. "It feels too- oh!" your head rolls back as Jimin hooks your legs over his shoulders, creating a new angle of penetration. He rubs your clit ever so slightly, the abused bundle of nerves pulsing under his touch. "It feels too what?" he hisses, rolling his hips upward so that his tip just barely grazes your g-spot. Too good, you want to say, but pleasure is clouding your mind and you can’t get the words out.

"That’s it, baby," he hums, "taking my fat cock so well even though you’re so- shit, you’re so fucking tight. Are you gonna cum again, hm? Cream all over my dick and make another mess?" you’re being reduced to a blathering mess, Jimin’s name rolling off the tip of your tongue. "Yeah? Can’t even hold it back a little? Even though I let you cum so many times, you still want more? Greedy little bitch," he spits at you.

When you clench down at his words, he starts pistoning his hips into yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoing around the room. His cock seems to be splitting you open even more, and you can feel every pulse of his dick on your walls. "Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum," he groans.

"I- I’m close too, Mr. Park. It- fuck, it feels really good," you breathe out as Jimin leans down over you. He slows his hips down, opting to roll his hips smoothly and brushing over your g-spot with painful accuracy. Hovering over you, his stare bores into yours, eyes flitting down to your lips, reddened and swollen from you biting them. You whimper and tilt your chin up towards him and he leans his head down to yours.

He lets his lips ghost over yours, warm breath brushing over your lips as his hips grind into yours. "P- please," you beg, and Jimin finally relents and melds his lips to yours, bringing the two of you into a searing kiss, groaning as you near each of your highs. You break the kiss to gasp out, "I’m c- cumming again Mr. Park."

"Yeah?" he breathes surprisedly, "your little pussy’s that sensitive that you’re gonna- fuck, you’re cumming already? So quickly?" he leans down as your orgasm washes over you, this one hitting you slowly and harshly. You arch your back into Jimin’s chest, hands gripping at the collar of his shirt. His thumb continues to gently rub over your clit, causing you to roll your eyes back into your head at the overstimulation. You start shaking underneath him, squirming to get away from the overload of senses, but he holds you in place as you ride your high for what seems to be like an eternity.

"That's a good girl," he soothes as you continue to writhe underneath him. "Look at you, stuffed so full of my cock it’s making you cry. Does that feel good, darling?" you nod, sobbing. When your orgasm starts to fade away, spots of white dotting your vision, he still doesn’t stop thrusting into you.

You bite your lip, and seeing that he’s close, you whisper, "M- Mr. Park, I want you t- to cum too. I- in me." His hips stutter at your words. "Shit, yeah? You’d let me do that?"

You nod, "want you to fill me up w- with your cum and s- stuff me so full of it that it’s gonna be in me for days. And I wanna fe- fuck, I wanna feel you in me even when I’m alone, professor." At your words, Jimin lets out a slightly animalistic growl and leans in. "You’d like that, huh?" he asks. "Me fucking you so well till you can’t think straight? Putting my cum in you so that when you walk out of here, it’s dripping down your pretty little thighs, making you look like the filthy little slut you really are? You think you deserve that?"

"Please, sir, I really want it," you beg, "please." With that, Jimin attaches his lips onto yours again, grinding his hips into yours even deeper as he finally orgasms. He doesn’t stutter his hips as he continues his ministrations, even though he can feel your walls desperately squeezing around him, milking his cock of its seed. You feel the thick ropes of his warm cum painting your inner walls every second. Each time he pulls out slightly, a bit of it leaks out of your cunt, dripping down your ass onto his desk. He continues fucking his cum into you until he’s satisfied with the way you’re shivering under him.

For a moment, all is still, nothing but the sound of the two of your breathing filling the air as you stare into each other’s eyes. "Um-," you begin, and Jimin quickly looks away, brushing his thumb over his plump lips. So that just happened. I fucked my teacher. I fucked Park Jimin.

"Wait here," he mutters, making your heart drop in disappointment. You nod, offering him a weak smile. Seeing this, Jimin reassures you, "don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back," and cautiously steps out of the room after clothing himself.

You take this moment to recollect what exactly happened. Okay, so you just fucked your teacher. It still hasn’t sunk in yet, and probably won’t till you leave to clean yourself and look at the marks he’s made on your thighs and ass. You can’t help the giddiness you feel, like a kid who got the best candy bar in the world. After all, you got to hook up with your crush - in fact, the entire campus’s crush. The door creaks open and Jimin returns with some paper towels and wipes.

"H- hey," he smiles nervously. For the first time, he’s the one that’s stuttering. "Let me clean you up. It’s the least I could do after putting you through so much today." He spreads your legs gently, cheeks flushed, and begins wiping off the slick and cum between your thighs.

"Jimin, you didn’t do anything bad, calm down. Well, I mean you fucked your student? But other than that you’re fine. I really liked it," you try to explain, stumbling over your words. He looks at you incredulously, but shakes his head, smiling. "I don't want to tell anyone about this," you continue, "and I highly doubt you will, so this can stay as our little secret."

"Well looks like someone got fucked a little too happy. How come you never smile this much when I’m teaching, hm?" Jimin jokes after he finishes cleaning you up, kissing your knee gently. He hands you your thong that he’s kept for half the day and tells you to put it on.

"You’re still going to the party, right? Jaebum’s?" he asks and you shrug. "You should go. Have a fun time there, drinking and all that stuff." He leans into you, whispering into your ear, "and if that rascal wants to get into your pants, he’s going to see your soaked panties covering up that precious little cunt of yours stuffed with all that cum of mine. Maybe then he’ll finally back off," he smirks.

You blush, "maybe, Mr. Park. You know, you’re pettier than I thought you’d be." Standing up, to face him, he pulls you in by the waist till your chests are touching. You wrap your arms around his neck and he leans in, whispering, "well, Y/N, I don’t think you knew too much about me in the first place." Closing the gap between the two of you, you give him a peck on the lips, which quickly turns into a more heated kiss, lips melding together and tongues colliding. When you break apart, a faint blush on the two of your cheeks, Jimin smiles fondly at you and you look away.

"Well," you hum contentedly, "if I don’t know much about you now, I’d at least like to get to know you better in the future."

"One day," he breathes out. "One day."

Your grin, disentangling yourself from his arms. "One day soon, I hope. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you next class. Goodbye prof- Jimin. Have a great weekend."

He smiles softly, walking you to the door. "You too, Y/N. If you do end up going to that party, have fun. Stay safe."

555 notes · View notes