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writerpeach · 2 months

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Studious Seduction

Oh My Girl Arin x m! reader

10k words

Thanks to @i-am-lifeform24 for help with editing

Part One | Part Two

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Read on AO3

"This seems like a bad idea, Miss Choi."

"It's a terrible idea, professor. Which is why we're doing it."

Without a doubt, there’s very little chance that you won’t be spotted here. Heading up a stairwell that leads up to who knows where is hardly ideal, especially with the sudden rain shower that's started to pour above, foreshadowing this bad decision made in tandem.

Yet, you’ve never been one to make the best choices. An inappropriate relationship with one of your students has to be ranked at the top of the list, wrong for a myriad of reasons—all that could get you fired. Still, it somehow continues unimpeded, knowing the risks, both of you doubling down even.

At this point, you’re not sure if you’re a bad influence on Arin, or if she’s a bad influence on you.

To make matters worse, today’s outfit of choice is this poor excuse for a school uniform that draws all your attention. A risky little ensemble that consists of a white shirt and black tie combo that only pretends to be proper, covering very little of her midriff, as well as this dark little pleated miniskirt so short it might as well not exist for how little of her thighs it hides. It leaves more of her creamy skin uncovered, and being her professor, you know it's not appropriate to look—yet you can’t stop yourself from doing so anyways.

And then there’s those dark frames on her face, the cherry on top that puts this whole thing together, that takes her from an innocent, responsible student more than invested in class, to this devilish vixen who struts into your office, demanding to be ruined, never taking no for an answer.

There’s almost no room for imagination, offering you such an obscene view when Arin heads up the stairs, purposefully walking in front of you with slow, deliberate steps. You can see the shape of her perfectly round butt cheeks exposed, her tight fitting thong doing anything but covering up delicious pale flesh. Of course, she knows exactly where your line of sight goes when you walk behind her, making an effort to shake her wide hips a little more with each step, giving you a shameless view of her tight, succulent ass.

This outfit is every dress code violation she could possibly make rolled into one.

But who's going to admonish her? You? Who can't even think logically at the moment when all your thoughts have turned to mush? Not a chance when all you want to do is slip your hand between her thighs too delicious to resist until she makes a mess on your fingers, the floor, and anywhere else that becomes collateral damage.

Right now, you have the perfect opportunity for exactly that. You’ve lost track of how many steps you’ve walked, but eventually, the stairwell comes to an end, with a set of metal double doors that leads up to the rooftop. As good a place as any other, you think, especially when there's little reason anyone else would want to venture towards the top level during this never-ending rainstorm.

“Here?” you question, when Arin presses your back against the cold wall just underneath the final level of the stairwell. A solitary gaze into her eyes is all you get before she wraps her hands around your neck and plants a heated, sloppy kiss on your lips. She nods in affirmation, but doesn’t give you the time to catch your breath, slipping her tongue into your mouth to make an attempt to taste all of you.

“It's really open here. Pretty easy to get caught," you tell her when she moves from your lips, placing wet kisses across your jawline, moving lower down to your neck.

"That's the point, professor." Arin places your hands firmly around her waist, leading you exactly where she wants your touch. Her legs spread a little further apart so you can push her skirt up, revealing just how tiny of a thong she's wearing. "I don't care if we get caught. Make a mess of me—"

She sighs when your fingertips press against her clothed core, so aroused you can already feel her slick leaking through the flimsy fabric. You add more pressure in response, rewarded with Arin's soft gasps against the sensitive skin of your neck.

"We could get in a lot of trouble, Yewon," you breathe out, barely paying attention to anything beyond this. In fact, you hardly care about what could go wrong either, so consumed with lust, one singular desire that Arin shares, and your fingertips ache to slip underneath these panties and sink right in.

"When has that ever stopped us before?"

She has a point.

This is risky as it gets. And that’s what makes it all more exciting.

Without wasting any more time, you slip a finger underneath the fabric of her panties, into her ridiculously warm cunt. A second one slides in right after, and soaked as she already is, barely puts up any resistance, the entrance of her tight little hole eagerly swallowing you up.

“Professor—“

A few strokes is all you manage before Arin throws her head back in delight, rolling her hips, moaning from nothing more but your fingers slowly pumping in and out of her needy cunt.

Arin clings to your shoulder as the tempo picks up, her other hand quickly traveling down your torso until it reaches your pants. She finds the button to your slacks right away, unzipping them to slip a hand inside your boxers. You let out a groan when she runs a gentle hand along the length of your shaft, slow and teasing—until she wraps her entire hand around it and grips you tight.

“Yewon..." A wave of pleasure rushes through your whole body. She's stroking your cock with such a perfect grip, slender fingers reaching down to fondle your balls, eager for what they’ve stored up just for her. Meanwhile, the sounds that come from her own throat as she rides your fingers become a necessary distraction, urging you to thrust into her a little faster, a little rougher—

"How many loads are you going to give me today, professor? I hope they're all as thick as they were yesterday—"

It's rather ridiculous, the things you hear come out of Arin's mouth. The demure looking girl in the front row, raising her hand up high, blushing just at the sight of you, now says the filthiest things when she's got her mouth on your earlobe and her pussy filled with your fingers. She's every bit the opposite of an exemplary student, but you suppose that's your fault, given you're the one who's trading straight A's for the roughest, raunchiest sex that almost always ends up with you finishing inside her.

But the way Arin sounds when she moans directly in your ear, riding your fingers so selfishly while they stay buried inside her cunt, it makes you forget all that. None of that matters. All that does is satisfying her needs and yours, and you won't stop until she's absolutely drenched your fingers, even if it ruins that pathetic pair of panties.

"Don't stop, professor. I'm so close…"

She's lost all inhibitions in her frantic desire to keep rocking her hips hard against your fingers. You can feel the tension about to snap, her walls squeezing the life out of your slick digits—all while she tries to keep a steady rhythm in her own pumping, giving your cock a good squeeze each time your fingers plunge to the hilt.

"Professor, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—" Arin’s breathing grows unsteady, heavy, and she gasps for air between every syllable that escapes her lips. You’ll do everything to oblige her, steadily thrusting, curling your fingers to find that sweet spot that gets her to moan the loudest until she lets go of your cock, clinging her entire weight onto you.

"You're gonna make me fucking cum—"

Nothing gets said in response, obeying Arin’s pleas, an uninterrupted stream of juices beginning to coat your fingers while she lets out one continuous moan, unable to speak coherently upon climax. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she nearly draws blood before the wetness gushes down your fingers, rendering her panties useless, completely ruined with all this sticky arousal.

Her walls flutter around you, this explosive orgasm lasting far longer than you expect—but you don’t let up, pumping away as she spills more, riding this out until it turns into a second one shortly after. And when you press your thumb firmly against her clit, right as she starts to come down from her high, the violent trembles in her body repeat, sending her over the edge a third time, forcing her body to shake against yours, another loud, shameless moan spilling out of her in overstimulation.

It's a wonder how the rest of campus hasn’t heard the screams echoing all the way down the staircase. Were it not for the rain pouring overhead drowning out her cries of pleasure, it would be near impossible for anyone passing by to not hear a thing. So you’re blessed by the rains, both above, and between Arin’s sticky thighs.

After it’s all said and done, she can hardly support her own weight when the sensation of your fingers inside her becomes too much for her oversensitive cunt, Arin’s sweaty frame nearly toppling over as she breathes heavily. Good thing you're right here to do what she temporarily can’t, clinging to your body, your hard cock still poking against her as you keep her upright amidst these intense aftershocks.

"That was, fuck—you've really outdone yourself, professor. I can hardly stand."

When you pull your fingers out, you can’t hide the smirk that spreads across your face with all this slick clinging to your fingertips as she leans on your body to take a breath. The praise washes over you while Arin unexpectedly grabs your wrist, bringing your soaked fingers, all the way up to her lips to fervently suck the delicious liquid off.

You intently watch her lick herself off you, tongue lewdly swirling around the length of each wet digit, making an effort to swallow all of her mess. Her lips glisten with spit and wetness, a ravenous look in her bespectacled eyes as she cleans whatever she can, tasting every drop of her delicious essence, staring at you seductively until nothing is left.

"Guess I don't need these anymore," Arin says after a pause, gradually recovering as she peels her drenched thong down her legs, letting it drop to her ankles before she slips it off, stuffing it into your front pocket. A cute little smile later, and she looks more than eager for what's next, unable to tear her gaze away from how hard you’ve been left thanks to her.

"I should finish what I started, don't you think, professor?"

You don't even get to answer when Arin drops to her knees on the cold floor, tugging your pants and boxers further down, freeing your cock that so desperately needs it—so desperately needs her. With a cute, light giggle, she spits onto your swollen shaft, pumping the entire length with her delicate fingers, a low moan rising in your throat as she pays extra attention to the underside where she knows you're the most sensitive.

Her slender fingers work up the length of your cock, coming back down with a grip so wonderfully tight. She’s so ready, so eager to have her soft lips around it already. You can practically see her salivating when she leans in a little closer to lap her tongue around your cock in one long, lazy lick, pressing her lips into a light kiss on the tip of your shaft.

“Yewon—“

You can’t hold in a grunt when Arin rubs your tip against her mouth, not opening up enough to take you whole yet, instead tracing her full, soft lips over your needy cockhead.

“Don’t you worry, professor. Gonna make you feel so good. I promise.”

The anticipation explodes all at once as she parts her lips, slipping the entire head of your cock inside. The moment her wet mouth makes contact with your shaft, you groan at the sudden warmth, a sharp contrast from her icy cold hands. She takes more of your length down, hollowing her cheeks, keeping an intense, erotic gaze while slowly bobbing her head up and down.

"Mhmph—" Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine as her lips slip further and further down, the tip of her tongue flicking against what hasn’t disappeared into her mouth. You can’t help but let out all types of unabashed moans while she guides more of you inside, spit dripping down to your balls as she slides deeper, until nothing of you is left to swallow up, the head of your cock hitting the back of her tight throat with ease.

"Yewon, fuck,” you say, nearly breathless, and the way Arin looks up at you with her mouth so proudly sealed around every inch—there’s nothing better. “I'll never get enough of your pretty fucking mouth.”

Arin hums against the length of your shaft at your praise, working more of her magic on you, lips getting down so devastatingly deep against your base. She’s oh so eager, so unwaveringly committed to covering every single inch in saliva. Her hot little mouth slides down effortlessly, bobbing her head back, each stroke just a bit sloppier, a little wetter than the one before, with zero intention of giving you a chance to gather yourself.

“Nobody gives a blowjob like I do, right, professor? Nobody can make you cum as hard as I can. I love being on my knees for you so much, being a good little slut for my professor. That’s what I am, aren't I?"

Nodding your head is all you can do, breath heavy in disbelief of how good this oral assault is, the enthusiasm on display really proving how much Arin enjoys having your cock shoved down her wet, inviting throat.

You’d sacrifice your entire livelihood for a blowjob like this.

It’s quite simple to lose track of how many times her talented mouth takes your entire length down, so good at pleasuring you it's impossible to find words. The way her wet tongue flicks against your slit when she slides off, only to have you plunging all the way back into the heat of her throat—it's far, far too good.

"I want you to cum on my face, professor," Arin tells you, so casually as she pulls away for a brief second before going right back to licking up the length of your hard cock, spitting all the excess saliva over the rest of you. Then she’s back to placing hungry wet kisses against each inch, her tongue making a slick path before she gives the leaking slit of your cock another teasing, torturous swirl. "I want all of it."

At this rate, you think you could blow a load anywhere she wanted you to, already so close to bursting just at her tongue lavishing your cock with these feverish licks. She has this way of making you feel so special, like worshiping your cock is all that matters to her, your pleasure the most important aspect in her life. Her greedy mouth proves just that, making you groan so easily, especially when she dips down to pay attention to your balls and slurps so messily on them like she wants your load at any cost.

A few lazy licks down your sack and you’re back down her throat—just trapped there helplessly as she holds you, her pretty mouth so goddamn overwhelming when she swallows as much of your length as she possibly can, not showing even the slightest hint of strain. Her full lips stay motionless when they slide right down to your base, gaze locked tight, making your cock throb within her tight, wet throat.

“Stay there, Yewon, shit,” you groan, hands clutching her head against your crotch to speed up the path to climax. Each second she remains there feels like absolute heaven, fostering all this unbearable bliss, all while those doe eyes speak for her when her mouth can’t—impatiently waiting, desperately wanting to empty your balls.

When she releases her lips from your length, there’s a sexy little gasp that comes with the messy string of saliva pulling her back down. Repeating the act, she plunges right back down, nose nestling comfortably against your abdomen, lips wrapped entirely around the base of your length. “Yewon, god, you know what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.“

"Oh, you’re gonna cum? Want you to paint my pretty face. Don’t you, professor?”

There’s no answer to offer other than what she wants, all thoughts drowned by another wet slurp when Arin once again takes every inch of you down her throat, the overwhelming warmth of her mouth suffocating your length. Then she rises, exposing your shaft to the cool air for only a moment until her throat tightens when you’re back down, fully sheathed.

Arin’s so dedicated to hearing you moan that these steadfast strokes show no relent, slurping from base to tip, hair all a mess as she bobs faster and faster, maintaining never-ending eye contact that’ll be the death of you.

“Need it. Need it so bad, your hot cum dripping down my face when I walk back down these stairs. Can’t wait to feel how thick and heavy a load you’ll give me.”

Her pace only begins to go into overdrive, picking up rampantly when Arin places her hands on your thighs for better stability, the hot slickness of her mouth far too much to handle. She takes every inch, all of you disappearing down, without needing to stop to take a breath, like she’s proving a point at how good she can get you off. There's no restraint as she bobs her head without inhibitions, sloppily, noisily, not even gagging when her throat delivers an unimaginable level of pleasure.

"Oh my god, Yewon, fuck—"

With each desperate stroke, you're so close to that edge, quickly approaching the inevitable. The tightness in your balls grows beyond your control, and there’s no time to think straight when her mouth feels this fucking good, almost there, absolutely about to—

"I'm gonna fucking cum, Yewon," you groan out just in time, with no qualms about how needy you sound. One last slow descent down to your base, then Arin pops your needy shaft from her mouth right when it seems you’re about to burst any second.

And looking as salacious as possible, she simply tilts her head slightly backwards, jerking you off while directing the tip of your cock straight at her face, eagerly anticipating the release that's about to cover her.

“Cum all over me, professor.”

You let out a strained, guttural moan the moment your first pearlescent stream shoots out, streaking across the bridge of her nose. These frantic strokes don’t let up, guiding your milky seed that unloads onto the perfect target—her glasses, coating the lenses in white and getting it all over her rosy cheeks. Another strand fires off as she shifts your cock downwards, a thick stream blasting across her parted lips that deserve so much of this load for helping you reach an explosive release.

She pumps, and pumps, until there’s nothing left, and by the time your orgasm winds down, Arin is a total mess, one you’ll never get tired of seeing your load plastered all over her. Her stunning features wear you like a proud smile, drenched in her handiwork, thick streaks that cling to her cheeks, those soft lips, and anywhere else it happens to land as she strokes your length to ensure not a drop goes to waste.

That look is all too familiar when the weight of your load starts to drip down, an orgasmic feeling that brings a grin onto her cum-stained face.

“That’s a big load, professor. Just what I wanted," she says as she removes her stained glasses, taking a nice, long lick right over the lens and making a show of the entire thing. "I think I'm obsessed. With your cum. It tastes so good, but looks better on my face."

"Yewon—you're ridiculous, you know that?" you tell her as she carefully slips the glasses back on, and wipes up whatever has run off to the corners of her lips, bringing her sticky fingers into her own mouth to slurp them clean.

"It's not my fault my professor's cum tastes so good."

But before she can even begin to clean off your cock, or savor what an absolute mess she’s covered in, the sound of footsteps nearby force her to stop mid-stroke, causing both your heads to turn with a shared look of panic. There's only enough time to tuck yourself back into your pants, but there's nothing to do at all about this massive load that's dripping all over Arin, nor what’s done a number on the stairwell.

"Get behind me, Yewon. Quick."

Arin nods and does as you say, scrambling to her feet, also making sure her thong is still tucked away into your pocket as you zip your pants up. The sounds of footsteps echo louder, yet there's only one real way to escape this stairwell, because you're not going out that door when the rain hasn't let up one bit.

When the moment those footsteps approach the stairwell entrance, they slow to a halt, making your heart beat faster. Arin moves fast enough to get behind you just in time, out of sight and behind your broad frame. And the two of you wait there, her body pressed against yours, trying to hold her breath, dreading to explain yourself to whoever just made this abrupt end to your fun.

"Professor? Is that you?" The voice sounds so familiar, but you can't quite pick it out, too muffled by the rain. But there's no doubt you've heard this voice before. It's certainly one of your students, so at least you won’t have to explain this to a faculty member. "What a surprise, seeing you here!"

Normally, you'd have all the time in the world for pleasantries and small talk, but this is the last place where you can do anything of the sort as you try to shield Arin. From who exactly, you have no idea as they walk into frame. Their name escapes you, not that you really care when all you want is to get out of this situation.

"Is something the matter, professor? Why are you standing there?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. I had some time between classes and came up here to check out the rain. It's not letting up is it?" You put on the best smile possible, knowing Arin can't be spotted right behind you. Luckily, your taller frame can block her body completely, and given how the area is poorly lit, there isn't much worry about the mess that's on her face at the very least.

"No, it isn't. We don't usually get so much rain this time of year, huh?" The unnamed student asks as she glances out the window, and for a brief second you fear the worst—but she doesn't seem to notice anything at all that shouldn't be there. "I didn't even bring an umbrella today either..."

"You might check the library, they'll have them."

"The library?"

"They used to offer some a few months back, but I guess everyone forgot. I'm sure they still have a few left."

"I might give that a try then, thanks. It's good to see you, professor."

When your student smiles and waves goodbye, heading back the stairs without another word, you're able to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing the ordeal is finally over, despite taking years off your life. "Jesus, Yewon."

"That was close.” Her own breath stays ragged and heavy, almost completely forgetful to the mess you've left on her face that still glistens. "Good save. Really pulled that umbrella story out of thin air, didn’t you?”

“Whatever it takes. Hey, they might have umbrellas. I’ve never gone there except to rail you.”

Arin laughs, then suddenly remembers she still has your filth all over her. “Better go clean up I guess..."

"This was a really terrible idea."

"Hey, this was my terrible idea," Arin corrects with a grin that manages to shine through all the mess. "And I don’t hear you complaining about me giving you a nice, sloppy blowjob, professor.”

“I could never complain about seeing my favorite student on her knees.”

“I'll go on ahead. Maybe I'll see you later? For office hours?"

You say nothing more as you let her pass you to head down the stairs first, standing here a bit longer for your heart rate to calm before you too make your exit. You've got a class in under an hour that you haven't prepared for, and now how could you, coming so close from potentially losing your job. But yet, somehow, through all that, Arin was right—the rush of getting caught is exhilarating, but that was far too close for comfort.

✦ ✦

So after all that, logic would dictate that you should be a little more careful, that maybe you should stop having sex with your student in places you're bound to get caught—but logic went out the window the moment you bent Arin over your desk for the very first time. What else are you going to do though, take her home to your apartment where there's actual privacy, where you don't have to keep quiet?

That sounds so very drab and mundane, and you'd rather spend another ten hours grading papers than go the proper route. You don't even know what you would do if you wound up in Arin's bedsheets, having all the freedom to rail her for hours instead of the thrill of being in public where you have to be quick and quiet.

There's nothing wrong or unhealthy with this relationship. Not one bit.

You've told yourself on multiple occasions that you should dial it down a notch, not meet quite so often, or at least not in places that will put your career at risk. After all, your luck is going to run out one of these days, and the day could very well come when more than just a student catches the two of you, maybe one of the other professors, or god forbid the university staff.

And then it's all over for both of you.

Yet, there isn't a day when you don't seek each other out, find some empty closet, a vacant faculty office, or that spot near the back of the library that's so dusty that no one frequents.

The risk is almost as good as being balls deep inside Arin itself.

You can't exactly help yourself when she wears these slutty little outfits that practically beg you to rip them off her, nothing but the shortest skirts imaginable to class, where you have to stop your eyes from wandering throughout the entirety of the lecture.

Arin sits in the front row for a reason, and that's not to get a better view of the whiteboard. No, it's so she can spread her legs open when no one's paying attention, flash whatever sexy pair of panties she has underneath (or the lack thereof on occasion), and sometimes even play with herself so she can show off how wet she is.

Somehow, no one's really noticed how often you have her in your office, where there's less talk about class going on, and more your head buried between her thighs, or having her bent over your desk in some obscene position with her mouth stuffed by her ruined underwear and screaming through it.

With everything that’s transpired today, one would think you’d call it early and pack up. Not you though. Not even an hour has gone by since your close call, and Arin is in your office again, sucking you off underneath your desk while you work on grading papers—at least you should be, if only you could focus for more than a few seconds without this warm mouth slobbering on your cock.

"I bet none of your other students can deepthroat you as good as I can."

"You said you were going to be quiet."

"And you said you were going to fuck me, professor."

You haven't exactly broken that promise, it's more like Arin decided she wasn't going to wait until you finished, always finding an excuse to get in her favorite position whenever she wants to suck you off.

Luckily, for your students, you're going to be in such a tremendous mood after finishing in this girl's hungry mouth. These papers are downright horrendous—so fucking awful and unreadable it makes you wonder if you should intentionally pound Arin in your office with the door wide open, just so you’ll get caught, lose your job, and never have to deal with some of these students ever again.

Not even a few papers in and you’ve lost every ounce of focus, groaning while Arin empties your balls, her mouth right at your base when your spills right down her throat. With your fingers gripping the back of her head, it's impossible to not avoid bucking your hips into her pretty, sloppy mouth as she drains each thick shot from your pulsing cock, swallowing it all with pride to make sure there's not a single trace of your creamy release that hasn't gone directly into her stomach.

"All those students probably failed anyways," she tells you, letting the saliva fall from her lips as she shows off her empty mouth with a pleased smile, planting a nice, loud wet kiss on your tip before getting back up to her feet.

"Yeah? Including you?"

"Of course not, professor. We both know before you even look at my paper that I've got a perfect grade."

"Is that so? And what have you done to deserve that, Yewon?"

Before you've even gotten your pants back on properly, Arin is already claiming a spot on the edge of your desk, undoing her tie so that it hangs loosely around her neck, and then spreads those luscious thighs as wide apart as they can go, her gorgeous, dripping pussy on display without any underwear in the way. "I can think of a few things. Doesn't emptying you down my throat count for something?"

"Hm, I dunno,” you ponder, shamelessly staring between those delectable thighs at what’s all yours. “Maybe a few points. That'll get you a passing grade at best."

"Just a few? What about all the times I've ridden your cock this week alone, professor? And how many times did you cum inside me?"

"I've completely lost track, Yewon. I guess that'll get you at least ten percent higher."

"How generous of you," she retorts, tone all full with playful sarcasm, unbuttoning her white shirt enough so you can see the color of her bra. It's purple, just like the thong in your pocket that serves as a nice trophy. "Are you forgetting how many times I took your thick cock in my ass until you blew your load inside?"

"Does that really count if you beg me to do so every time you step in my office?"

"Oh no, you can't blame me for how much you love my ass, professor. That's at least twenty points."

"That's a little greedy, don't you think?"

"Absolutely not. If anything, I deserve extra for all those times I let you fuck my face," Arin suggests, spreading her legs further apart to give a clearer view of her bare cunt that’s glistening so beautifully, accompanied with a set of fingers teasing herself for your benefit.

"Again, you're forgetting the part where you keep dropping down to your knees and begging for it."

Arin can't help but smile, both at knowing you're right—and also how you can't take your eyes off the show her fingers put on when she rubs at her clit, getting wet so easily from playing with herself while staring into your eyes. It's the look on your face that drives her crazy and gives her the urge to show off even more, sliding two digits past her swollen lips into her tight hole, so eager to get herself off in front of you.

"What about now, profess—" she asks before a moan interrupts her words, leaning backwards to prop herself up so you can watch every bit as she fingers herself. "Does this count for anything?"

"It depends. If you can make yourself cum without my help, then maybe, that'll bump up your grade, Yewon."

"Twenty-five. For making myself cum right in your office," she manages between hitched breaths, pumping her fingers deep in and out, almost bucking her hips off the table at her own touch.

"Twenty. You're not there yet, Yewon," you correct, watching Arin roll her head back with her eyes shut, so beautiful when she's in bliss, achingly sexy how her slender fingers disappear knuckle deep into her own cunt. You've barely had any time to recover since emptying your load down her throat just a minute ago, but the mere sight is more than enough to have you as hard as the wooden desk she’s writhing on.

Arin reaches down to further unbutton her shirt, giving the full glimpse of her breasts covered up in that pretty lace as her tight frame falls back against the cold surface all splayed out. While this shameless girl continues fingering her pussy, you simply enjoy the view, stroking your cock every few seconds to spur her on. Every desperate moan and gasp from her lips gets louder, all that nectar trickling down between her spread thighs you’re dying to lick clean—but you won’t, because she has to do this on her own.

You let the lack of words exchanged linger in the air while Arin fingers herself a bit rougher, moving a bit more frantic, knowing all the signs from experience that she isn't too far from that much craved release.

“Professor," Arin breathes out, the quiver in her voice an obvious indication. Her fingers get so drenched, pulling them out from her heat for a moment to reveal how sticky wet they are as she groans, not bothering to hide how she slides them back in to curl right into herself. "Oh god, professor—“

When the pleasure becomes too much, when her back arches off the desk with breathless cries, there's no missing the split second Arin's entire body tenses up—thighs quivering, fingers buried so deep you can hear the wetness while she shakes on the desk from the intensity of her orgasm. It's a moment of euphoria that's only reached because you're watching so attentively, eyes glued the entire time as she rides her fingers long past completion, toes curling, moans echoing through your small office.

Even when Arin is finished, she's unable to regain her composure for more than a few ragged breaths, eyes still closed while the bliss hits hard, long after her high. And you savor every second of her looking so beautiful in this post-climax haze, an absolute mess on your desk that you’re thankful hasn't soaked into your papers.

"Fuck, that was too good, professor," Arin murmurs, slowly pulling her fingers out from herself, just to rub her oversensitive clit, borderline crying from the overstimulation. “It’s too bad it wasn’t your cock I came on.”

"Then maybe I should deduct points for that?"

"Hey, that's not fair… you just told me—I’d get points for making myself cum."

"I did, but—you would have earned extra for waiting for me to do it. Guess you'll just have to earn back those points another way."

"How exactly should I do that, professor?" Arin asks with the best faux ignorance possible, sitting herself up to scoot off the desk, then leaning down to wrap her slick fingers around your shaft. "If you bend me over and pound me with this cock until your cum is leaking inside me, would that be enough?"

"Perhaps. That would certainly help raise your grade some points.”

"Give it all to me then," she pleads, giving your cock a handful of languid strokes, just enough to leave a nice trail of her slick along the entire length. "Fuck a load into me, professor. Fuck your top student all over this office."

"Top student? Really?" You can't help but laugh at that, knowing full well Arin is certainly anything but. Far from it actually, not even top ten. "Then I better go find her then."

"Hey! Just shut up and give it to me already," Arin says with that pout still intact, keeping these strokes going on your cock that make you throb so easily, and you’re not sure who needs it more at this point.

"Fine, but not here. I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."

It's rather late into the afternoon, with the majority of classes for the day having ended already. That leaves enough of the campus vacant, lowering the risk of getting caught wherever you decide to take Arin—but the risk still isn't zero. Wandering around the university after hours isn't the best idea, especially when there are plenty of places for students to hang out, and worse, faculty offices open late.

So you keep it simple.

You keep several feet ahead of each other, heading up a couple floors to that really small bathroom by the science department that no one ever uses because it doesn't lock properly. There are much bigger and better bathrooms scattered about, so everyone usually forgets this tiny, shabby thing exists, especially late into the day. Not the most romantic spot, but it’s suitable, and keeps you from scouring the halls without having to dodge other faculty and students.

You enter first, flicking on the light, and do a quick scan around the room while Arin slips in, pulling the door shut as quickly as possible. There's nothing but a toilet, a sink, and a mirror, but most importantly it looks clean, which is the most important thing. It's not that surprising given that nobody really uses it to begin with.

It’s as perfect a place as ever.

Double checking the lock still doesn't work, nothing has changed on that front. Arin quickly moves to lean against the wall, and she’s already unbuttoning her shirt, all the way this time, to give the full view of those perky breasts without any bra to ruin the view. You're on her in a flash, claiming those lips with a kiss full of nothing but aggression to match just how badly you want to ruin this girl right now.

"Fuck me," Arin urges as she palms your bulge through your pants, impatient to get your cock inside of her. Her fingers fumble with the button to your pants, thoughts clouded with desire, and she’s so eager to release your aching shaft, to give it all the attention it so desperately craves.

You’ve got just a modicum of patience left to not let that happen quite yet.

Instead, with your lips still attached, you pick Arin’s slender frame off the ground, and guide her over to the sink, placing her there as gently as you can. When she settles down on the edge of the counter, there's no hesitation to shove that tiny skirt up past her waist, revealing her absolutely beautiful cunt still left glistening in the aftermath of her orgasm from a moment earlier, and you're just dying to fill her all up.

Still, somehow you hold back for a moment, to let it all sink in. The sight is divine enough, this privileged student of yours in this rather pathetic excuse for a school uniform, half naked, shirt wide open with her tits fully out, that barely-there skirt, and those sexy thigh highs that bring all the attention to her immaculate thighs that make you want to ruin her even faster. She knows that’s your biggest weakness, knows how weak in the knees they leave you whenever you get to slide them off with your teeth—but now they make her look like pure sin.

"I know you wanna get that dick in me," she says, voice so sultry, and her thighs spread obscenely wide apart, so that every inch of her mouthwatering cunt is put on display with not a drop of modesty—not like Arin even knows what that word is.

"Not yet. Haven't gotten to taste you today." As per usual, Arin’s been more than a little greedy, and it feels like she’s had her lips on your cock all day and this is the first opportunity to return the favor.

Any protest in those pretty eyes doesn't last when her hands wrap around your skull, drawing your face straight between her thighs that you have no trouble diving into. With your lips feasting on her cunt right off the bat, you give Arin all the attention she craves so badly, licking along the length of her slit, all the way up until your tongue starts flicking at her engorged clit.

"God, so fucking good," Arin breathes out, the silence in the empty bathroom getting cut with all her beautiful moans that ring out. For your efforts, you’re rewarded by her thighs locking around your head, as your lips get a tight seal around her swollen clit that has her grinding that delicious cunt all over your mouth.

"Professor!" she chokes out, while continuing this harsh grip on the back of your head while you slurp on her clit so mercilessly, every bit hungry to taste all those delicious juices that spill out. "Oh my god, professor, oh fuck!"

Your mouth doesn't quit, because nobody tastes better than Arin. You're an addict, every bit obsessed with this girl's cunt since the first time that you slid between these thighs. There's nothing you love more than this, her taste lingering on your tongue, all while these delicious thighs squeeze around your head, suffocating you perfectly as you eat her out with so much fervor she almost can't handle how good you make her feel.

"My god, Yewon—you taste so fucking delicious," you tell her between long licks, slurping on her clit without restraint to savor every last bit of her soaking cunt. "I can eat your pretty pussy all day. For hours and hours."

"I won't say no to that, professor.” Her desperate hands dig into your scalp to hold your face right there, exactly where she wants, where she needs, gasping when her hips grind down against you. "Fuck, your tongue is so, so good."

This is your favorite part about going down on her, being trapped between those perfect thighs that squeeze and tremble while you sloppily eat her out, drowning in her heavenly aroma and all this nectar, her delicious pussy that tastes even better the longer you indulge.

It's never enough though, no matter how much time you get to spend with your tongue buried inside her cunt, or how many times she cums all over your face—the taste of her is heaven, and you love turning this girl into nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mess who can’t even think straight.

"Just like that, professor, fuck, don't stop, oh my god, don't fucking stop, please—“

She whines so freely while grinding down hard against your hungry lips you can hardly breathe. Not that you have any problem about that, because you know exactly where Arin is, can feel those thighs vibrate all around you to know those limits are about to be surpassed, and you don't plan to let up for even a moment.

You ramp up your efforts in devouring her cunt without a moment to rest, your tongue all over her clit, sucking so harshly, so relentlessly, drowning in these delicious juices. It’s obvious how Arin's hips can't stay steady for a second longer, seconds from losing herself entirely. "Professor! Fuck, I'm so fucking close. Keep going, keep—oh fuck, right there, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck—"

Arin bucks her hips into your face with wild abandon, her juices smearing across your lips when you bring her to the verge of release, until she finally topples over completely.

Everything goes muffled while she keeps her thighs squeezed tightly around your head, violently trembling throughout her orgasm as you lick her through the entire thing. Like every other time you've brought her over that blissful edge, it's beautiful, turning your face into a mess, and you greedily lap up everything that freely spills into your mouth from her overflowing cunt.

When those thighs let off and relax, you look up at Arin's blissed out visage, completely enamored in the pleasure, shivering and trembling with a high-pitched squeal as you give her clit one more loud slurp for good measure. Your focus then shifts back to her messy folds, delving deep into them to clean up those juices she's gushing so profusely, a never ending stream of wet, sticky deliciousness.

"Fuck, your cunt always tastes so amazing," you mutter, lapping at the girl's slick covered thighs, getting out every drop that leaks out with a few soft licks. Arin stays motionless on the counter, looking straight up to the ceiling while her chest heaves, still seeing stars.

After indulging a little while longer, and spending all the time necessary getting those warm thighs mostly clean, there's only one thing left to do. Your mouth pulls away, but only so you can yank your pants down to your ankles, your stiff cock aching to get inside of her.

"Gonna fucking ruin you, Yewon. Hope you’re ready for me to wreck that tight little cunt."

"When am I not? Please, give it to me already," Arin desperately pleads, pulling herself from her haze to look at the throbbing length you're stroking as her eyes beg you to sink in and fill her up.

Sitting herself up on the sink, she keeps herself propped up with her hands planted behind her body, spreading her thighs apart as far as possible, with her wet cunt presented so lewdly and invitingly. "Shove that dick right in me, professor. Give it to me as hard as you can."

Without another thought wasted, you slowly guide the swollen tip of your cock past those drenched lower lips, groaning unabashedly when all this slippery warmth welcomes you deep inside. It's far too easy, how you slide into her, walls so dripping with arousal that allow this ache to dissipate when you effortlessly impale Arin all the way, right to the hilt.

"My god, Yewon, fucking love this tight pussy," you groan as her walls clamp down, holding you right inside that delicious grip with no plans to release you.

She's so soaking wet when you start pounding away inside, each thrust coated in all those messy juices as your cock bottoms out every time. Your deep strokes make full use of her open shirt, causing her modest breasts to bounce as her back hits the mirror with each hard slam. Arin clenches around you with such an unyielding grip as you pump in and out, loving how rough you are, how forceful your hips are, moaning louder and louder, still sensitive from the previous release.

“And I love being stretched on your huge fucking cock.”

There's not an ounce of mercy in your thrusts, just pure carnal lust taking hold. Her wet folds remain parted, taking the full length of your pounding shaft, every last inch driving into that slick little cunt without restraint. You take advantage of how her legs drape over the sink, grabbing her thighs, spreading them to give you more leverage to angle your thrusts deeper, and she kicks her heels off to give you even more control, allowing you to use her body however you please.

"It feels so good, professor," she says, while each thrust stays rough and deliberate, buried to the hilt in her wetness. "This cock of yours—is so perfect."

"That's because your cunt is made for it," you groan, sweat forming on her skin under your grip as your hips slam against her. It's absolute bliss, watching the way her entire body responds each time you sink in, hearing her soft whines that she’s unable to hold any back while getting fucked so mercilessly over this counter top. "You take my cock so well."

"Of course I do," she insists, the biggest grin on her face that gets interrupted with more moans. "I'm the professor's favorite student, after all."

"But definitely the worst one," you fire back, fingertips digging hard into her bare thighs all wrapped up in these sexy thigh high stockings as they jiggle with every relentless thrust.

"So—how many points is this?" Arin asks, bracing herself against the mirror when you pound into her even harder, every inch of your cock covered in her sweet essence.

"As many as you fucking want, Yewon."

"Then make it a thousand. I can use them on the next assignment, right?"

"Use them on whatever you want, the final exam even. So long as I get to cum inside you."

"Of course, professor. Fill me all the way up. Cum inside me as much as you fucking want," she says, and those tits bounce more hypnotically every time you pick up the pace, slamming deeper with more force each time. After every plunge balls deep, that tightness becomes more overwhelming, urging you to give your all, as if the sight of her all sprawled out and creaming on your cock isn't enough already.

It's merciless. And your hips start to reach their limit, but Arin's desperate cries of pleasure become so loud, that she has no choice but to muffle herself with her hand, almost forgetting that this seldom used bathroom is still right by the science lab—and anyone could be lingering around.

"Fucking fill me, professor. Empty your balls. Just keep—oh god, fuck, fuck," Arin whimpers, the limits of her body creeping up fast as your cock pistons so harshly in and out of her hot cunt. "Wanna milk every last drop right out of you, make you cum so fucking hard."

"Only if you’re good and cum on this cock, Yewon. Cum all over me, and I'll fucking fill this cunt up."

"Yes, god, yes," she says, practically falling back against the mirror while you brutally hammer into her at full force. She barely keeps the coherence when it all peaks, when you feel those impossibly tight walls clenching around your cock, borderline painful, forcing you to use every ounce of strength to not burst inside her just yet.

"Fuck, professor, this dick is so amazing—I'm gonna cum all over it, all over your fucking huge cock," Arin says as her pussy squeezes the life out of your cock with every impale in that wet, intoxicating heat. A flood of her fluids almost forces you out, an absolute mess that drowns your shaft in slick rips through her body without any care, and all you can do is fuck her through it.

Even when her orgasm subsides, and she somehow becomes tighter, wetter, easier to sink into, you don't show any remorse while fucking her tight pussy until you can't possibly hold on any further.

"You're close, aren't you, professor?" Arin gasps between collecting her breath as the pleasure begins to fade, watching the struggle you're going through to hold it back. "I know you are. Please, let me have all that cum. Blow your fucking load in me, let it all out."

That's all you need to be shoved straight over the edge, taking a few final strokes before that pressure builds up to a boiling point, and nothing’s going to stop you when you’re about to burst. “Yewon—“

Her name barely escapes before you’re throbbing, letting out all types of lustful grunts while her pussy smothers you in warmth, offering the best place for such a messy release of seed that shoots out, coating her insides the way she begs for.

Your cock violently pulsates until you’re left with nothing but orgasmic relief, unloading shot after shot deep inside Arin with the thickest spurts imaginable that empty into her warm little pussy. These tight, tight walls take every drop, welcoming such a huge load that’s even somehow stronger than what her mouth did to you earlier.

There’s no way you could do anything else with how delicious she looks on this bathroom counter. With whatever remnants of energy are left, you use all the power in your hips until they lose steam, remaining inside her euphoric cunt that refuses to relinquish you. You ride out wave after wave, each spasm pumping more cum into her, all this intoxicating bliss that feels like it’ll never end.

And truly, both of you wish it never would.

“Professor…” Arin can barely speak between breaths, riding this collective high that fills the room with heavy panting, and sweat glistens on whatever bare skin her revealing outfit offers. You’re right there with her, caressing her thighs, her messy cunt wringing out as much out of you as possible, like it doesn’t want your cock to escape, even after your entire load is buried inside that delicious warmth.

“Came so hard on you, professor, fuck... I love the way your cum feels when you push it deeper, all the way into my womb. Wanna keep it all here until you’re ready for round two.”

"You're fucking insatiable, Yewon," you sigh, dropping Arin's legs back onto the counter, which relinquishes the intense grip you’ve held, allowing her body a chance to relax. When your breathing returns to something somewhat stable, you lean over to give her a tired kiss, one that’s easily returned with whatever remaining energy she has.

“Can you blame me when your dick is this good? It’s only your fault I turned into such a greedy little cumslut.”

“Or maybe you were already like that before I even met you…"

"Yeah. Maybe."

Arin looks away as she starts to giggle, giving you a perfect chance to kiss that exposed cheek. When she glances back, you share an impossibly long stare, one that goes on far too long without words until you lean in for another kiss—

One that gets interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Custodial services, I'm here to clean up."

You must have angered some kind of god for this to happen two times in one day. Even worse, there’s no easy way out of this while you're still buried inside Arin, the least of your concerns as this creamy mess threatens to spill out.

"I, uh—need a moment. Spilled something on my shirt that won't come out. Be out in a bit," you blurt out, barely thinking while you look around at the poor bathroom that's been defiled. Arin can't help herself, covering her mouth to help from not immediately bursting into laughter as she fumbles to button back up her shirt.

“You’re such a bad liar,” Arin whispers, but you just roll your eyes at her, glancing over the sweat on her body that you’d no doubt be licking clean were the two of you not nervously waiting to see if this unfamiliar man outside will buy your story.

"No problem, sir. Take your time, I'll be back after.” The janitor shuffles his feet, and you listen carefully, wondering just how obvious the two of you were being. When you can no longer hear footsteps, you release the longest sigh, and slowly pull out of Arin, along with an utterly unreal amount of hot semen that spills out.

"Can't believe he bought that," Arin sighs while hopping off the counter, where more of your cum gushes out as soon as she stands up. "Can't believe you came so much inside me, either."

"If I recall, you were quite literally begging me not to stop."

"No need to be smug about it, professor."

Arin does her best to look presentable in the mirror and fix her disheveled hair, shirt only half buttoned, and skirt a complete mess, but it all seems so futile. There's no real way to hide how she looks after getting railed over the sink relentlessly, or the cum still dripping all over her thighs that she doesn't even bother to clean up.

"We should get out of here before he comes back," Arin says after giving her appearance a once-over, making any minor adjustment to try and fix how ruined she looks. "Shall I leave first, professor?"

The question has only one obvious answer, but you still can't form your lips properly to speak it. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."

"Oh? Am I forgetting something?" Arin asks while running fingers through her hair again. You step towards her, pressing into her back to wrap your arms around her tiny frame before planting a kiss on the side of her neck.

"Yeah—me. You're not leaving this room without me."

You notice her grin in the mirror as your lips graze her skin again, nipping right on that sensitive spot that makes her gasp.

"Don't tell me you're wanting to go again. After we almost got caught. Again—"

"No, not yet," you say between kisses, drawing closer and closer up her neck. "Need a little bit more rest for that."

"You poor thing. Did my pussy wear you out that much, professor?"

"You can barely stand upright as it is," you retort, taking your mouth away from her neck for a moment. Arin stifles a laugh that turns into a moan when your hand creeps up her skirt to touch her dripping folds still leaking your cum. "You need this a lot more than I do."

"Is that so? Well—fuck," Arin moans, unable to hide her body betraying her words as she grips the edge of the counter when two of your fingers slide into her without warning, pushing a mixture of her nectar and the load you pumped inside deep into her messy cunt.

"It's too bad I can't continue this," you say, and withdraw those fingers from Arin's clenching pussy that so desperately tries to keep them in to no avail. "Let's get out of here. But you're not leaving my side."

"If you insist, professor." Arin has no further words, fixing up her skirt while so much thick seed oozes beneath. "But isn't it a little risky to leave together?"

"Probably. But besides, even if somebody does see us, so what? There's not much they can do about it even if they can already tell what just happened. And what are you always saying—how much you love the risk?"

"Guess I'm rubbing off on you, hmm?"

"Not a chance, Miss Choi," you correct, causing that grin across her face to grow wider. "I'm just tired of sneaking around so much."

"Me too, professor."

You turn to leave, opening the bathroom door to poke your head around the corner. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be anyone around, only a couple of students you don't recognize standing nearby chatting, paying no mind as you and Arin sneak out successfully together.

“Where are we headed?” asks Arin as she settles in right next to you, something that's going to take getting used to.

"Dunno. Cafeteria is still open. Guess we can head there first."

"Not if it's still raining. It's a bit of a trek, isn't it?"

"My car's right out front. And if we so happen to take a little detour..."

"Now who's being insatiable, professor?" she asks, with this little teasing giggle in her voice.

“What? Who said I planned on doing anything with you other than grabbing some dinner? You know, I don't think you've had anything in your mouth today but my—"

"Professor!" Arin's not used to your conversation being this open, or being on the opposite side of being so flustered. "Save it for when we're not outside! Or better, the back seat. With the doors locked, preferably."

"As you wish, Miss Choi. Besides, but there's nothing I rather eat than your—"

She desperately covers your mouth to stop any further words from escaping as you head to the parking lot, surprised to see there's nothing but abundant sunshine now. Even more surprising is the fact nobody looks twice as the two of you walk together. Maybe it's luck, or maybe everybody here knows damn well what happens on campus between you two.

And maybe you'll stop sneaking around campus every day, finding just enough time to spend the last half of your lunch hour buried between Arin’s thighs while she tries to hold her moans.

But maybe you won't.

#kpop smut #reader insert #arin smut #oh my girl smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #kpop fanfiction

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cupcakeinat0r · 5 months

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Don’t mind me, just thinkin abt self-conscious Dad Bod! Miguel :,,(

(NSFW)

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Since y’all been together, he’s gained some weight which he isn’t too happy about. It’s not really him it bothers. He couldn’t care less if his stomach was pudgy or if his love handles were coming in, he was more worried about you losing your physical attraction towards him.

Miguel couldn’t be more wrong though. Especially since his ass got fatter, yum.

You could never stop yourself from smacking it every time you walked past him. He’d get embarrassed, then he’d try to get back you back, which he always did. Then it’d lead to a silly game of tag.

One day though, he was on the couch watching tv, wearing a tank top and some basketball shorts. You had just woken up and went to grab something to eat, but you stopped at the door of your shared bedroom, beholding the sight. He didn’t see you yet, but you quietly took a moment for yourself to just… admire him.

The way his bulging biceps and pecs were just sitting there, resting across the back of the couch. His man spread that gave you the perfect view of his massive thighs and what was in between, the shorts fitting just right, borderline too tight. And then the lack of abs that used to be there… but you weren’t complaining. In fact,

You loved that.

In his peripheral, Miguel notices you at the bedroom door. “Morning, sleeping beauty.”

“Good morning, handsome.” You say, smiling at the love of your life, stuck at the doorway and admiring him.

“Ven aqui conmigo, beba.” He motions for his lap, and naturally, you follow his request.

While the two of you hold a longing gaze, you straddle him, your hands resting on his chest. You share a tender kiss, the smacks of your lips turning the both of you on. Miguel moans into your mouth as he feels your hips lazily grind against him, his manhood twitching at the sensation. Your hands begin to trail down his belly, tugging upward at the hem of his tank top, but then he stops you, “Mmmwait… let’s- let’s keep that on, okay?”

You raise your eyebrow, confused at this. “Why? What’s wrong?” You murmur, genuinely concerned.

“No, I’m fine, it’s just… look, I know I’ve put on some weight, so you don’t have to do this if you don’t feel like it-“

“Miguel O’Hara,” You look at him sternly, “I absolutely do not care if you gain weight. I love you no matter what. Besides,” your face softens into a more seductive expression, “Ever heard of relationship weight? It just means I’m takin’ good care of my mans… aren’t I taking good care of you, baby?” You coo at him, your hands snaking their way to the hem of his top again.

He slowly nods, his self doubt and insecurities melting away at your words. “Now let me take this off, please? I wanna see all of my man.” He lets you pull off the tank top, revealing the mouth- watering dad bod he’s acquired since dating you.

Your eyes drink him up, your hands following pursuit. Miguel’s huge, calloused hands tighten on your hips, squeezing the flesh there, trying to gauge your reaction.

“God, just looking at you does things to me.” You mewl against his ear, peppering kisses along his thick neck. Your hips start again, the bulge just underneath your heat growing larger.

“Mmfuck, you mean it, baby?” he moans, voice strained, his face in complete euphoria.

“Every word.” You mutter, smothering his face in kisses as your hips go deeper and harder against his hardened cock.

“And I don’t wanna hear anymore of this nonsense, you hear me?” You continue speaking in between kisses, showering him with them on his cheeks, forehead, jaw, temple, anywhere, “you’re the most cutest,” smack, “most handsome,” smack, “most sexy,” smack, “most fine lookin’ man I’ve ever laid eyes on.” You finally plant a desperate, much more needy kiss on his lips, your tongues dancing with each other.

“Mmm, yes ma’am.”

Long story short, you get him all riled up enough that he pushes you down into the couch and completely wrecks you while your wear a t shirt of his <3 Isn’t he just so dreamy??? <3333333

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

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hypnos333 · 4 months

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Never going back Pt.2

Alastor x Angel Reader

Synopsis: Alastor always finds a way to get you

⏪

Fuck Fuck FuCk

How could Adam and Lute be so fucking Naive? But you couldn’t blame them for your own mistakes with even getting involved with Alastor. You knew you should’ve ended it when it started.

When the portal opened for extermination Alastor immediately took this opportunity to sneak a tentacle through the portal. And lucky for him you were just right there watching above. Deep in thought so he took that chance to drag you back through the portal. You screamed but everyone seems busy, You tried to fly but your wings weren’t that strong.

“No, No, NO, Please I can’t go back” You cried out knowing what this means to you. You tried to yank the tentacle off you but it held you even more tighter around your thighs.

You were dragged down without being noticed to a radio tower that looks unstable. You were settled down gently as the tentacle now became ropes tied around your hands and ankles so you wouldn’t get out.

It’s funny how your getting Deja-vu this seems like the old days back again.

What felt like hours of waiting Someone slammed the door open making it no doubt Alastor but this time it was different, He was beaten down and tired from exhaustion. The ropes disappeared making you second guess if you should run or help your Ex-husband with his wounds.

You thought about it reasonably and it made sense to run, but go where? You didn’t know hell at all and you had no way of getting home.

Your emotions were all over the place but you did the unthinkable and Kneel towards him. He look up in relief with his god sickening smile as you put your hand on his cheek before humming a tune making your hands glow gold.

Once healed you backed away from him but he gripped your hand making you gasp. “Thank you my dear, i’m so glad you didn’t run from me” He said making glance anywhere but him as you turned your head.

“Why am I here Alastor?” You asked bluntly making his smile turn into a smirk as chuckles as your obliviousness. “Isn’t it obvious my darling? I had to take back what was mine at the beginning” He stated gripping your hand to force the ring you rejected from heaven back into your ring finger.

“Alastor you have to understand We can’t be together no more” You said trying to break it down to him and he knew what you were saying but he didn’t want to hear it.

You were gonna be stuck to him weather you liked it or not. He smiled sickly before snapping his fingers making some type of wind to push you in a cage fit enough with your wings. You gasped tugging the cage trying to get out.

“My Dear, we both know you can’t leave me or did you forget that we are stuck together heaven or not your bound to me. Forever” He exclaimed as tears leaked down your face as you fell on your knees while your wings covered your body.

#hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #alastor x angel reader #alastor x listener #alastor x you #alastor imagine #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel

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fanwarriorfictions · 2 months

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Not Again - Part Eight

Summary: It’s been nearly four days since Y/n had collapsed, and she still hadn’t woken. Azriel won’t leave her side, he can’t, no matter how worried his family is.

Warnings: none really, kind of a shorter chapter

Series Masterlist

Another day had passed, Azriel refused to leave her room, he sat in the chair by her bedside and would not move no matter how much his family pestered him. Rhys had forced him to at least put some clothes on, but other than that, he’d stayed right at her bedside and spoke to her, feeling the pulse in her wrist flutter each time, feeling that evidence that she was still there. He read to her out of one of the books on her night stand, obvious gifts from Nesta. He struggled through some chapters, face warm, others he skipped entirely.

“Dinner is served,” Mor struts into the room, a tray balanced in her hands, “I can watch over her while you eat and take a damned bath.”

He frowns up at her, “I don’t-“

“Yes you do,” she sniffs pointedly, “You’ve been bed ridden for two days and haven’t bathed once since you woke. She won’t go anywhere, I promise.”

Azriel looks at the female in question, her lips were slightly turned down at the edges, like she could hear them and wasn’t happy to have him leave, “Fine.”

As soon as the word is out of him mouth, he hears running water in the attached bathroom, it seems the house was sick of him stinking up the place. He sighs, carefully standing up from the chair, shaking his head when Mor moved into casual reach incase he fell.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

“I don’t doubt that,” she sighs, rolling her eyes at him, “at least take the time to wash your hair.”

Azriel doesn’t respond as he closes the door behind him, sighing through his nose as he rest against it. There was this strange anxiety in him, even though Y/n was just on the other side of the wall. Watched over by one of his closest friends. The female he’d spent centuries believing he was in love with, and the female he, he didn’t know what it was he felt for. There was this feeling in him, this feeling of desperation when she’d been in danger, before that when she was about to leave him, when he’d seen her cry beneath the stars. Not love, gods he’d known her less than a week, but there was something, something there. A string of shadow connecting them together, one he refused to let go of. Whatever it was, he wonders if the swirling eddies of the cauldron, or the mysterious force of the Wyrd, that brought her here, right to him.

With Quinlann, it had been the blades, Gwydion and Truth Teller, calling to each other from across the stars. When she’d opened the portal between realms, they found each other. But with Y/n, there wasn’t a reason, there was no mysterious object, no intent. Simply a portal that had torn her from her home and thrown her into his path. He’d spent the last day pondering about it, about why exactly she was brought here, brought to him, and he’d come up with nothing but blanks.

Azriel forces himself to focus on the bath before him, to get in and out as quickly as possible so he could get back to her. The water was lukewarm, like the house knew he wasn’t ready to feel the heat. His bandages had been changed early in the day by Madja, the burn on his chest had been the worst of the damage, the imprint of Y/n’s shoulders burned into him from holding her to him. It would heal, there may be the faintest scar, a darker, rougher patch of skin. He found that he didn’t mind it, that he’d be left with that permanent memory of her, even when she finally found her way home.

He scrubs methodically, using the same lavender scented bar of soap on his hair and his body, not bothering with the bottles of soaps lining the edge of the bath. He submerges his entire body, wings included to rinse off, and he’s up and drying off quickly.

The house provides him with a comfortable set of black sleep clothes, loose fitting shirt to not irritate the burns. He dresses without thought, quickly buttoning the shirt around his wings as he moves towards the door.

“Record time,” Mor says as he walks into the room, “I’m surprised you bothered with a towel, instead of shaking out like a dog.”

He rolls his eyes, taking his seat beside Y/n. She hadn’t moved at all, he hadn’t expected her to, her lips would sometimes twitch in her sleep, but that was the only movement he’d seen.

“She’s not going to disappear,” Mor says gently, “You can rest for a while.”

Azriel knew that, knew that if he crossed the hall and collapsed into bed like his body begged him to do, she was would be right here where he left her. But he couldn’t do it, not until she was awake and he could see those eyes, see that insufferable smile, hear her soft accent. He was a desperate fool.

“I’m fine,” he says, “thank you for the food.”

Mor frowns, “I’m worried about you.”

“I know-“

“No I don’t think you do,” she snaps, arms crossed over her chest, “I don’t know what happened between you two, I don’t want to know, but I can’t stand to see you fall apart over a female you hardly even know.”

“Nothing happened between us.” It’s the truth but somehow it feels like a lie on his tongue, “I don’t expect you to understand it, I don’t even understand it.”

“I’ve had lovers in the past, hell I pined after you for centuries.” Azriel doesn’t miss the way she flinches, he’d never actually said the words aloud, “but this is different, she’s just different. She’s not my lover, I don’t love her, I just- I don’t- When I saw her there, trapped in that spell, it felt like someone was carving my heart from my chest with a dull knife, hacking through skin and bones and ripping the thing out.”

He shudders, looking down at Y/n, whatever this was, gods he didn’t know, he didn’t want to know, he just wanted her to wake up.

Azriel feels a slight pressure on his shoulder, Mor’s hand resting there in gentle reassurance, “She’ll wake up.”

“I hope so.”

Azriel wasn’t sure what exactly woke him up, the pain in his back from being slumped over in his chair, his shadows frantically swirling around him, or the hand that gently twines through his hair. His half asleep brain decides the feeling is very very nice and he almost goes right back to sleep.

“Are you alive over there, shadowsinger? It’d be a shame if you weren’t.”

That soft swirling accent washes over him like the warm surf of the summer court. It has him launching up out of his chair, eyes wide and staring at the female who sits up in the spot she’d laid for the past three almost four days. Her face was washed in silvery moonlight from the window, hair a tangled mess on her head, her eyes wide and warm with the fire in her blood, gods she was beautiful.

He’s surging forward before he can even think that it might be a bad idea. Her face is warm, soft between his scarred hands, and her lips feel like heaven as he crashes his mouth to hers.

Her hands grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer and he could die right then and there. Their lips move in tandem, tongues and teeth clashing in desperation. He can feel her sharp canines, the way they drag on his lower lip, she could tear him to pieces with them and, Mother above, he would let her.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again.” He pulls back just enough to growl against her, “Don’t you dare, princess.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me, shadowsinger,” she grins against his lips, that insufferable little smile, “it’ll ruin your whole dark brooding warrior image.”

“Shut up.”

She barely has the time to laugh before his lips cover hers again. Azriel’s shadows writhe around them, pulling her closer and closer till she’s practically sitting in his lap. His hands grip her waist, so hard that he’s sure she’ll have bruises in the shape of them. Her hands are tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands in a way that has Azriel purring. Everywhere she touched left him burning, burning with desire for more, more, more.

He’s moving, lips trailing across her jaw and down the side of her throat, he can feel her heart racing, maybe that was his own. Her head falls back, giving his better access to her throat. She lets out a breathless sigh when his teeth graze that sensitive spot, and Azriel wants to hear that noise again and again and again.

“Az,” she gasps, fingers digging into his shoulders like she’s trying to ground herself, “I, gods, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but hold on.”

It takes more effort than it should to pull away, to look into her eyes without begging her to let him keep going, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, this is amazing,” she sighs, “more than that. I just- I need a minute.”

Azriel sees that look in her eyes, that broken heart behind a wall of ice, “Whatever you need, princess.”

Her head falls, hiding, “I failed, Az. I- I did everything the books said, and I fucked it up.”

His heart squeezes in his chest, and he can’t help but to tug her into his arms. She collapses into him, face buried in the silk of his shirt and she cries. Those silent heavy tears, so Azriel holds her tight as she cries and cries and cries.

Y/n feels warm, safe, there’s a comforting weight across her waist, a hard wall behind her.

Her eyes open, blinking at the bright sunlight streaming through her window. It must be late morning, it had been the middle of the night when she’d woke, finding her hand clasped in Azriel’s, the male himself asleep in the most uncomfortable position possible.

When she’d seen him there, moonlight dancing over his features, she thought he was the most beautiful male she’d ever seen. It felt like her hand moved on its own, raking through those black strands of hair, the slight curl to them tickling her palm.

She’d felt him stirr, felt the way he’d pushed into her hand like a cat seeking attention. It was incredibly cute, which is something she was sure had never been used to describe the spy master.

When he’d realized she was awake, when he’d looked into her eyes, she’d seen the utter desperation behind his whiskey eyes. And when his lips had fallen onto hers, she felt it too. He kissed like a man starved, like she was his last meal and he was going to savor every bite of her. He kissed her like she meant something, like she was worth worshipping. Gods she wanted him to do just that, to take her for all she was worth, to ravish her until she was screaming. But then his teeth had caressed the side of her neck, her pulse racing beneath, and she felt herself slipping, felt the memories slam into her, of the matching scars her parents wore proudly on their necks, of the burning words in her throat, of the spell that had taken control of her and had tried to swallow her whole.

She felt everything crashing into her all at once, and when Azriel had looked at her, nothing but understanding in his eyes, she broke. She must have cried herself to sleep, to be waking up near noon.

Y/n froze as the wall behind her shifted, a body, she realized, that weight across her waist, an arm. Azriel.

She glances over her shoulder, finding the sleeping male. He held her close, face tucked into her shoulder. He made no noise, just soft breathing, lips slightly parted. They were laying beneath the knitted blanket that was usually folded by the foot of the bed, like he hadn’t wanted to wake her to get her beneath the covers.

Y/n shifts, gently trying to lift his arm so that she could escape to the bathroom, but the second she tried, his arm tightens and she’s pulled back against his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Gods spare her, his voice was deep and rasping in her ear. Her eyes look back over her shoulder and she’s met by those hazel eyes, still heavy with sleep. His gaze feels like a brand, like he was taking in all of her, like he was planning to claim her in every way possible.

“The bathroom preferably,” she says, throwing in as much snarky energy as possible to hopefully hide the way her face was heating.

He sighs, “I suppose that’s fine.”

“You suppose?” She scoffs, pushing the heavy arm still wrapped around her waist, “Let go of me you overgrown bat.”

He holds tighter for just a second, “You wound me, princess.”

“You’ll get over it.” She slips out from beneath his hold, “Keep your wandering shadows to yourself, I’m going to bathe, I smell like death.”

Azriel looks at her with predatory focus, resting on his elbows so he can look her up and down, “Hm, I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” she rolls her eyes, “Keep them out, I’ll be back.”

Azriel settles back into the pillows, eyes watching each step she takes into the room beyond. She can still feel his gaze when she shuts the door behind her, heavy and burning.

The bath is already filled with steaming water, clothes and towels laid out for her. She thanks the house quietly, slipping out of her tattered clothes and into that hot water.

Her head tilts back, a quiet moan slipping past her lips at the feeling, her body sore from whatever had taken control during the spell, and then even more from laying in bed for the past several days. She takes her time, washing every spot of herself to rid that scent of smoke. Her hair takes longer, tangled and brittle, she uses half the bottle of the sweet smelling soap.

All of her movements are precise, methodical, to keep her brain and hands busy. Because if she stops for to long, her mind is ripped back to that room, to the yawning portal of darkness, that presence on the other side beckoning, whispering, playing with her. What ever it was, ancient and cold, dark and cruel, she felt it reaching for her. And at the same time she’d felt another pull, one from behind, one begging her to stay, to let go of the gods damned book. A string, a lifeline, a way back. She’d cling to that, and let it pull her out.

But still, on the other side of that portal she heard a whisper, a voice young and old, pay the price, gods killer’s kin, pay the price.

Tag list - If you would like to be added to the list please send me an ask or message me❣︎

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#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #rowaelin daughter #rowaelin #not again #a court of thorns and roses

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soxcietyy · 5 months

Note

i have a requesttttt

we take a shower with yuta or while we are taking a shower, he comes in after this it's not just a shower you know what i mean

I'll be very happy if you do thank you from now

Showers

Yuta x reader nsfw

Keeping it short and sweet :p

When you were about to shower all you could think about is how relaxing it is, feeling the water running down your body and cleaning it. It’s something you looked forward to doing everytime you got home from a long day out. You absolutely loved the water and couldn’t quite decide to shower or bathe but you had plans tonight. You make your way into your room and pick up your towel. It was still warm from you taking it out of the dryer not too long ago. Your couldn’t help but putting your face on it to feel the warmth of it.

When making your way to the bathroom you hear the doorbell ring. You sigh wondering who would be visiting you at this time? Walking to the door you open it to see Yuta standing there.

"Hey are you ready for our movie night?" Yuta asks as you let him inside.

You give him a firm nod before you kiss him on the lips. You had invited your boyfriend over for a movie night and told him to come around eight but he decided to show up early. An hour early.

Grabbing your towel from the couch you walk towards the bathroom once again.

"Your going to shower?! Without me?" Yuta frowns.

"You didn’t bring a change of clothes so I guess I am, unless you want to wear my clothes though I doubt it’ll fit." You smirk at him.

"I’ll just take them off and I’ll throw them in the washer while we shower. Then I’ll just relax with you until there completely dry." He hugs you.

"Okay but is it really just a shower? Everytime we shower together it turns into something else." You rest your hand on your hip.

He ignores your last question and strides towards you pushing you into the restroom with him. Luckily you had spare towels in the bathroom. Yuta would always help you take your clothes off. It was his favorite thing to do other than well you know�� He made sure to peel every layer off of you as if he was unwrapping a gift. Full of anticipation every time he removed an article of clothes. When he came to his clothes he quickly took them off as you turned the water on to the right temperature. When he took them off he walked out the bathroom and to the laundry room to have clean clothes. He didn’t mind walking around naked but then how would he get home?

While the water warmed up he came and kiss you. Wrapping his arms around you and kissing your shoulders and anywhere else you allowed him to.

You were the first one to step in but when he saw the steaming water his face was full of concern.

"Are you sure it’s even safe to shower in boiling point temperatures." He sticks his hand in the water as you are getting yourself wet in it.

"You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to." You say as you proceed to run your hands through your hair to get it soaked.

He sighs before getting in right behind you. You laugh as he switches spot with you and squeezes his eyes from how hot the water is.

"Temperatures like these should be illegal to shower in." He continues to complain.

"I like it hot and steamy." You shrug as him.

"If that’s the case then let me show you another way to get hot and steamy." He then proceeded to turn the knobs and change it to a reasonable temperature.

You wack his arm to get him to change it back but he ignores you. Turning his attention back to you he pins you against the wall and kisses you. Shoving his tongue deep inside your mouth as he fonddles with your breast. You groan as you started to feel the hot part he mentioned.

Turning you around he smudges you against the glass making your Brest press firmly on the cold surface. In one quick motioned he slipped inside of you. He squeezes you nipples and pulls on them to get a reaction out of you. You moan as he pulls on them harder.

"Yuta, Im supposed to be getting clean, this is the opposite of that!" You moan as he pulls out and shoved himself back in.

"Don’t worry I’ll clean you right after I use you." He said as both of your wet skins began to slap each other repeatedly. His long member slid out of you so easily from how soaked you were. Your knees buckled as he ruined you. You could feel how his arms held you up so you wouldn’t fall.

He was gentle with you but at the same time he made sure to bury himself deep inside of you. You try to get a grip on anything but the humidity of the room made it quite impossible. Grabbing both of your arms he pulled you back and put you under the water. You gasp at the sudden displacement letting out a cry.

"Are you trying to drowned me?" You say.

"I’m just making sure your cleanse, now relax so we can both finish soon." He laughs.

Taking you back out the water he continued to use you. Moving your body up and down his shaft for his pleasure. You knew this wasn’t going to be a normal shower the second he asked to join. Still you let him in and now you were paying the price. He somehow had a way of convincing you to do things.

Not that you hated this but it was supposed to be a short shower after all. Knowing your boyfriend you were going to get busy after the movie. There isn’t just one round when it came to him.

By the time you were on the edge you were biting your lips and rolling your eyes. Your legs shook as you orgasmed all over him.

"Fuck, why do you have to make the sexiest faces." He said as he slowly dropped you carefully on the ground and began to jerk himself off.

With a few pumps of him member he came all over your face. You moan as you decided to clean his member for him with your mouth. He wiped a bit off of your cheek before kissing your head. He could tell your mind was cloudy right now so he took the advantage to shower. After he was done he turned it back up to your scorching hot temperature and began to clean you up. He loved seeing how he fucked you so dumb that at the end that needed help with the most simplest tasks.

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cheesus-doodles · 7 months

Note

i wonder how izana is like if he had a s/o during the time when he was the black dragon leader

Red Dragonflies Masterlist | Masterlist

‎‎‎

i have actually answered this previously in these Relationship HCs ! and this is also the case in my red dragonflies AU, former gang leader reader is actually Izzy's s/o when he was the black dragon leader - have linked the masterlist up top cough

but because I like to rant, here are some more thoughts about yan black dragon-era Izzy and you, which can apply to both regular reader and gang leader reader!

Izana was probably already very unstable and jealous during his time as the 8th Gen Black Dragon leader, what with the entire situation between Shinichiro constantly talking about Mikey, and learning that the Black Dragon gang would go to said boy instead of him. Combined that with him having found you as an s/o, someone that Izana would see as his, something that he could finally own and keep to himself without having to share (unlike the whole situation with Shinichiro), no doubt that it wouldn't take long for Izana to swing into yandere tendencies, becoming extremely overbearing and overprotective over you.

‎

With you around, there is a very clear difference in Izana's mannerisms and general behavior. Almost a personality flip in fact, it's night and day how he acts in your presence and when you aren't present. After all, there's a certain way that Izana wants you to perceive him as, and then there's everything else - so this white-haired boy would be sure to carefully tailor and adjust how he acts around you to what he knows you like (to a certain degree of course). As long as you don't threaten the status quo, as long as you keep by his side and his side only, your precious Izzy is whoever you want him to be. Loving, kind, doting, he can almost seem to read your mind and predict your moods.

Knows how to make you feel better after a shitty day, knows what to say and what to do to get you falling heads over heels for him over and over. But don't let that fool you into thinking that you were beyond his manipulation, because nope, not a chance. If he even has the slightest doubt that you were drifting away from him, or worse, thinking of leaving him, expect for Izzy to start subtly tearing you down. He wouldn't sound any different from what he usually does, cooing, low, soft murmur, but the things that slip from his mouth; it pokes at your insecurities, stirs the doubts you have about yourself. Yes, you were the most beautiful person he had laid eyes on, but did you think that really extended to everyone? Surely, surely you know that only he can love you like this? You couldn't possibly survive away from his side the way you are, right?

In his mind, Izzy is only doing it because he loved you as much as he did - you were made for him, like he was made for you. He couldn't live without you, so even if he had to hurt you a little, it'll all be worth it. You'll see that it was all for you.

‎‎

Wouldn't be uncommon to see him roaring down streets, both city and mountain ones alike, on his motorbike with you clung to his back and with no specific destination in mind - just likes to spend time with you, brings you anywhere that you want to go. Besides, the delinquents in the city, be they Black Dragons or rival scum, know better than to stare at the two of you. Loves light, airy places, so be prepared to spend a lot of time just hanging out together on rooftops and mountains, somewhere where you can feel the breeze through your hair, where Izzy can get you all to himself. All your attention being on him is the best kind of date.

There's no such thing as privacy, period. He absolutely needs to know everything that happens in your life, and anything less would earn you a full tantrum and fit. Put simply, its either Izana is there, hovering next to you and keeping one violet eye on all your ongoings, and no doubt this baby boy has someone (cough Inupi cough) tagging you from a respectable distance when he isn't free. That is, on top of having unfettered access to everything on your phone; call logs, messages, photos. Nothing is secret from him, why would it be? What do you have to hide from your partner?

You don't go anywhere new without Izzy. Why do you have to? What were you hiding? Your future husband would be happy to take you anywhere you have to go: cafe, the new department store downtown, even festivals. So unless you were trying to hide something from him, why wouldn't you want him to go along? Don't you know how dangerous it is out there? What if you get jumped by a rival gang? Needless to say, keeping presents a secret from this boy isn't a walk in a park.

‎‎

Everything else that Izana doesn't think you would approve of seeing would be done out of your sight. He doesn't like having you see the darker side of your boyfriend, the one that deals with weapons and drugs, the one that beats people, both civilians and his own gang members alike for the mildest of perceived infringements against you. You were too soft, too delicate for that. What if you got scared off? What would he do if you became frightened of him?

Instead, all his rage, all his hatred, he poured into the Black Dragon gang, leading them down darker and darker paths. The entire world was scum as far as he was concerned, trash that he had to beat and flatten into perfection so you didn't have to foul your hands and feet.

Sure Izana couldn't keep Shinichiro to himself as much as he desperately wanted to, the first time he truly found family - the source of a lot of his anger and jealousy. He hated Mikey, and always will, for stealing his older brother. But you were perfection, divinity, and you filled the hole in his heart; you didn't have to see that side of him if you just stuck by his side and returned his love. You were the only thing giving stability to a very fragile Izzy, and god only knows what would happen to him if that stability ever left. Izana would give you the sun and the moon if you wanted them both, all he asked for in return was your loyalty.

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luvjunie · 11 months

Text

— Unforgettable ( 2 )

part one • part two • part three • part four

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: plot progression, budding feelings, a little plot twist

summary: a bump in with a certain boy at the bodega threatens to ruin your previously perfect afternoon until he offers to fix it. you assumed things would end there, and then you ran into him again. wc: 2,479

a/n: this was done a while ago but i wasn’t satisfied so i kept revising it 😭

prev | next

You honestly thought that this would be like any other time, that this wouldn’t become anything more than a few imessage games, or some tedious snaps back and forth.

The same old story. A guy thinks you’re cute, gets your number, you guys talk for a little while and then eventually, they fade into the blur with the other failed advancements of your past.

You thought he would be like any other guy. A guy who texts you at odd hours of the night with only one thing on his mind. A guy who fills your head with the false hope of things progressing anywhere past those three, god-forsaken letters used to ask what you were up to.

But your first conversation lasted for multiple hours and you hadn’t even realized. It was like you’d skipped the stranger phase and become best friends in mere moments, like you’d known him for years and were simply catching up. You were so caught up in him until you’d looked up to check the time in the top left corner of your phone and read ‘12:02 AM’ , the small numbers leaving you lost as you thought back to where the time had run off to.

As the days went on and you found yourself glued to your phone more than usual, you realized he was was nothing like those other boys. So far from it you were reminded that ones who genuinely liked you for who you were instead of what you could offer them actually existed.

And everytime you visited that same corner store, whether it was to pick up a few quick groceries or dry goods upon your parent’s request, you secretly hoped you’d run into him, though it took you a little while to admit that fact to yourself. Your head always remained on a swivel in a place like Brooklyn, but more often than not you’d actually been on the lookout for a certain face. Doubtful as always, you tried to remind yourself that it was probably only you who felt this way.

To say you were surprised when bump-ins turned into questions about what the other was doing for the rest of the day would be an understatement. Suddenly the two of you had plans you hadn’t anticipated, the best kind of plans because they were spontaneous, exciting and spawned in the moment from the sudden realization that you wanted to remain in this person’s company. Then hangouts started getting more frequent, and glances towards the other started lasting longer, staying longer, and ending in an erupting fit of shy giggles and laughs to distract from the rapid beating of your hearts. Soon he started insisting you walked on the inside of the sidewalk and him closest to the street when the two of you were together, ‘just in case’. And your hands would brush against the other as the two of you walked, sometimes on accident, others on purpose. You couldn’t find a word to describe the way you felt when your fingers stopped jutting away at the slightest of contact with each other, but instead intertwined. Maybe ‘euphoric’ would do your fluttering heart enough justice.

And before you knew it, you’d wake up in the morning, not just expecting or hoping a text from him would be on your lock screen, but knowing it would be there. Knowing that when you’d respond to him, and tell him that you did sleep well and you hoped he had too, he’d respond back with those words you’d happily grown used to hearing from him and him only.

“I miss you.”

And that’s when you realized that Miles Morales was not just ‘any’ guy.

—

A month and a half.

You’d known this boy for all of a month and a half, and somehow you were already accompanying him to the front door of his parents’ apartment.

But honestly, it was neither of your faults. The both of you were hanging out, slushees in hand and the conversation lively and he didn’t want it to end. Neither of you did, so you kept finding more things to talk about.

He offered to walk you home once the two of you finished your slushees, and he knew he’d have to pass his building on the way but he couldn’t care less. Miles would walk across town if it meant he could be around you longer, and he just wanted to make sure you were home safe.

The two of you had barely passed the building when his mother, who was on the fire escape watering her plants spotted her son strolling with a girl she’d yet to meet, and she just couldn’t contain her excitement.

She yelled down to him that she was making dinner, and that he better bring ‘his cute little girlfriend’ up with him. That woman’s voice could carry quite the distance, so it was without a doubt in her mind that her son heard her once she witnessed how he stopped dead in his tracks. It caught you by surprise, but what confused you even more than the random woman shouting over your head was how willing you were to accept the label she’d just given you.

You blinked upwards, lips rolled inward and silence falling over the two of you for a beat until you spoke up.

“Was that—“

“My mom? Mm-hm.”

“Did she just call me your girlfriend?” You stifled a giggle.

He sighed and rubbed the side of his face, obviously embarrassed at his mother’s forwardness.

“I think so, yeah. I’m sorry about that, she’s—“

“No, no, it’s fine. Really.” You shrugged, then flashed him a smile, one he was glad to see. “At least she called me cute.”

—

Now, here you were, nervously chewing at the inside of your lip as you climbed the stairwell, glancing over at Miles every few seconds to see if he was as close to shitting his pants as you were. He was, hands shoved into his pockets and gaze set straight, as if he would trip and fall if he didn’t plan out exactly where to plant his feet on the steps.

Your original plan was to go home, change into some comfy clothes and crawl into your bed to watch Criminal Minds and indulge in the ridiculous crush you had on Spencer Reid, but now you’d somehow gotten wrapped into playing girlfriend to a boy you actually wouldn’t mind having as your boyfriend, at all.

You weren’t anywhere near ready to unpack that, so you broke through your thoughts with the one floating in the back of your mind.

“What if they don’t like me?” you blurted nervously.

“They will.” Miles sounded sure of his answer, his tone upped a positive pitch.

You hated how notorious men were for giving such vague and simple answers that often did nothing to ease your worries. What if he was just saying that?

“Well, do they usually like the… Uh,” You struggled to find the right term to describe the both of you. “Friends? Peers? You bring around?” You adjusted your crop top as much as you could, mentally cursing yourself for not choosing the crewneck you’d rudely swept past in your wardrobe earlier.

“Ehh…” He shot you a look you couldn’t quite read and turned his hand in a so-so motion, which only increased the intensity of your anxiety. “But you’re different, I can tell.”

“What does that even mean?” you exclaimed, ready to turn around and go back down the stairs. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes you can!” In the midst of a laugh, Miles grabbed your arm before you could make a break for it and gently brought you to a stop in front of his door. “They’re not gonna eat you, just be yourself.” He reassured you— warm, honey hued eyes catching yours in the way they did when you’d first met him. “I like you, so I know they will too, okay?”

Something in the way he was looking at you made you feel as if there was a longing within his words, something he wanted to tell you but didn’t know how to word, and you found it easy to believe him.

You glanced down at your hand that somehow had fallen into his and allowed yourself a breath. “Alright, I’m ready.”

—

After dinner had gone so well, you felt ridiculous for being nervous to meet his parents in the first place. They were probably the sweetest couple you’d ever met.

When they asked how the two of you met, you struggled to hold back your laughter at Miles’ facial expression as you informed them that you two didn’t go to the same school, and that you’d actually met him after he made you drop your lunch on the floor. Rio teased him for it, and dove into a multitude of instances where his clumsiness got the best of him, and eventually that conversation led you all down the rabbit hole of how her and Jeff met.

“I worked in this little coffee shop after class,” Rio smiled to herself as she recalled back to her young years. “And Miles’ father would come in everyday and order the same exact thing. A chocolate chip muffin—.”

“And a caffé americano with two splendas.” They stated at the same time, and Jeff’s brows raised when he looked over at his wife unbelievingly.

“Honey, how’d you remember that?”

“I remember everything.” Rio grinned proudly, and you swore you were kicking your feet under the table.

Miles had heard this recanted almost a million times and was nearly dying from boredom, while you on the other hand sat and listened intently, chin propped in your hands and your attention unwavering throughout the rest of their story. His parents were the spitting image of the kind of love you saw in those old shows and movies in the 90s, the kind of love you unfortunately never got to see between your own parents.

A kind of love so deep rooted and engrossed in the way they acted with each other that it gave you a glimpse of their younger selves; how in love they were back then reflecting onto now, even through their playful bickering and scolding when the other asked you too many questions about yourself.

“Your parents are the cutest.” You’d whispered to Miles, a laugh hidden behind your hand when Rio swatted Jeff with a kitchen towel.

“Please don’t encourage them.” He joked.

You offered to help Rio with the plates once you all had finished eating, but she insisted that you were a guest, and shooed you off with a big smile. Miles gritted a hushed complaint at her with wide eyes as he ushered you away but his mom couldn’t care less, she was just happy to finally see her son taking interest in someone again.

His room was nice, had a cozy, lived-in feel to it while still remaining tidy. It was colorful and resemblant of who’d you grown to know him as, and the walls were decorated with some graphic posters that you took notice of while he hurriedly tossed the pink teddy bear on his bed into his closet. Random papers pinned to the wall here and there gave you glimpses into the sketchbook you knew he had. Art was something he talked about so passionately whenever he got the chance, especially when the both of you would pass by some graffiti tags depending on where you walked.

“Your room definitely screams you.” you nodded.

“That’s a good thing, right?”

He made himself comfortable on his bed and you settled for the swivel chair beside his desk, and when your eyes scanned over the surface and caught sight of a red milk crate filled with what you assumed were vinyl records, your interest was quickly piqued. “No way, are these vinyls? How many do you have?” You gaped and leaned forward, ready to find out for yourself. “These are so cool!”

Your fingers gently combed through his impressive collection as he laid on his back, throwing a small ball he’d found on the floor up into the air above him, then catching it with his open hand when it came back down.

Miles couldn’t stop looking at you the entirety of dinner, and hadn’t realized he’d even been doing so until he looked down at his plate to see he was much farther behind than everyone else. He’d direct his eyes elsewhere only for them to fall back on how enamored you were with everything he held close to him, then his mind would follow suit and drift off into thoughts of how well you fit into his little bubble almost immediately, and how enamored he was with you. With how your nose would crinkle when you smiled or your eyes would light up as soon as you heard something that interested you, or how you’d made his mom laugh so hard that she snorted, something she hadn’t done in years.

The feeling you gave him was weird, the kind of weird that you welcomed after deeming it safe enough to stay. The kind of feeling that made his brain foggy and had him mulling over the right words to say and the right things to do in hopes you’d like him as much as he did you.

“My mom really likes you.” he informed suddenly, so deep in his thoughts that he’d completely tuned out what you said. It was a way for him to test the waters, to gauge your reaction through something he figured you knew by now, and just maybe you’d see past the terrible disguise he’d posed to timidly introduce his own feelings.

“Really?” you tried not to sound too excited when you looked back at him, hands gently pulling from the records to settle back in your lap.

His wrist flicked, propelling the ball into the air above him once more. “Of course she does,”

Your eyes mindlessly followed the ball when you asked. “How do you know?”

“Didn’t you see her face?” He laughed. “I promise once you leave, she won’t shut up about you.”

You grinned sheepishly, and went to tuck a stray braid behind your ear. “I couldn’t have made that good of an impression.”

“You had her approval as soon as you called her Mrs. Morales.”

Your head tilted in question, eyes panning to the ceiling in thought. “Isn’t that normal? Calling someone’s parent by their last name?”

A comfortable silence settled, just for a moment.

“You’d think so.” A smile curled Miles’ lips, the memory of when he’d introduced the first girl he’d ever liked to his parents flashing into his mind; his interest in tossing the ball paused momentarily as images from the past flooded his thoughts.

Wait… Why was he thinking about her?

taglist: @burymeinside @secret-ssociety @whatamidoing89 @urmotherswhor3 @valovesyou @inlovewithfictionalppl @edgyficuselastica @motherwanda @mybfmiles @dracohatesyou @axeoverblade @miumiulicious @sukisprettyface @decapitadedyoshi @gwennesy @simpnotapimp @kanvis @cleo-dearts @wonylvxz @asimpwhohatedlife @toneystank-3000

(some tags didn’t work, sorry!)

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse fanfiction #miles morales x reader #1610 miles morales x reader #1610 miles x reader #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales x you

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pinktom · 7 months

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What do you think pink about tomarry content creators getting abusive tomione asks suddenly? First obsidian, then I saw one more account getting and now seminar arts. Is it only one person doing all this?

Btw my jaw dropped with your no filter answer where you said that whenever harry comes the chemistry between to marry best tomione 🤣. I would love to hear more of your no filter thoughts

I have no doubt those asks were sent by trolls. I, however, am simply a hater—I see an opportunity to hate, justified or not, I pounce. x]

In ascending order, here are the reasons I think Tomione sucks.

PS: If you know this post is gonna piss you off and press "Keep Reading" anyway - that is entirely on you. Send me anon hate and I'll assume you're a masochist who wants me to spank your pert, round hinie and call you a naughty, naughty girl.

“Book nerd loves book nerd uwu” trope does not fit Tom Riddle, and I find it obnoxious.

Like I touched on when I was first sipping on that haterade, Tom Riddle values usefulness. By this logic, you could easily contrive up a scenario in which he wants to use Hermione’s skills for whatever reason.

However, the route that is usually taken in Tomione is that Tom is … impressed … by her intellect. A woman… who is… smart? He’s intrigued. 😏 He’s never once met a smart woman in his life before. And certainly not one so independent and feisty. She doesn’t swoon over him like the other girls do (eye roll).

I never got the impression anywhere in canon that Tom Riddle cared much about intellectual pursuits beyond those which were immediately useful to his goals, so for the very basis of a relationship to be his interest in her brains – to me, it’s tedious and off-base.

And also icky honestly lkjdflkj. Hermione’s two crushes are on a couple of stinky smelly boys (Krum, Ron), where the hell do you go off acting like she wants some mysterious, twisted dark boy? I’m offended.

Absolutely zero chemistry; once Harry steps in, it’s game over

Because these characters lack any common ground, shared values, or compelling circumstances that tether them together, there is zero chemistry. You can try to fabricate those things with a little bit of crack!cocaine, but then you’re forced to contrive a lot of additional personality traits and circumstances that diverge them from their canon selves. (Which yes, you can do, but it only works if you’re gonna do something really interesting.)

As much as people like to har har about how canon doesn’t matter, here’s the truth: yes, it does. Our communities only exist because we’re referencing shared source material. However much you can bend characters around, everyone knows each character has an essence that just “feels like them” on a deeper human level.

As such, we all know Tom Riddle and Harry Potter are intrinsically connected to each other. In Tomione this presents a conundrum. I could cite dozens of fics, but I’ll stick to two very well-written ones I enjoyed.

In one of them, Tom was a criminal and Harry was a detective on his tail; no matter how many times Tom fingered Hermione, he was always more entangled with Harry, because the stakes and intensity between them were so much grander. Same thing with the other fic but amplified by the Horcrux bond. At their very first encounter, when Tom and Harry laid eyes on each other, they both immediately felt an arresting connection, with distrust and intrigue. Hermione instantly paled in comparison in both stories.

It’s just like the moment Harry steps into the frame, you see how transparent and superficial the “commonalities” between Tom and Hermione ever are. Books and cleverness - oh but Harry, there are more important things! Like being spiritually linked! And sharing unique and intimate traumas in common!

Heterosexual Tom is truly disgusting to read about

Look–it’s a matter of taste. We’re all products of our environments. For me, no amount of feminism or fantasy can overrule everything I’ve seen and experienced in my life. ( ಠ_ಠ )

I don’t enjoy reading about women in relationships with men who are controlling, violent, and selfish. Even the way Voldemort treats Bellatrix in canon always makes me wince, because I see it like this … here’s this girl who grew up proud; who was beautiful, rich, extremely gifted and powerful; and she turns into this horrible sniveling creature. Say it ain't so! I wish she'd killed him when he broke her ass out of Azkaban.

But back on the topic of Tomione specifically — I think there’s another layer to it, which is the greasy self-insertion aspect which makes me uncomfortably aware of how much the author’s ginie is tingling at the idea of Tom Riddle lifting a brow and saying, “Is that so, Miss Granger?” while she scowls and tells him to fuck off !!!

It’s of course not the self-insertion in itself that’s icky. It’s more just that the type of person who wants to self-insert into that particular heterosexual scenario is, uhh, too basic for me and my big powerful fujo brain.

And I guess that's gets me to the very core of why I find Tomione basic, trifling, and underwhelming.

Tom Riddle is allowed no faults whatsoever in Tomione

Oh, sure. He’s controlling. He’s mean. He grabs her wrist and says, “What were you doing talking to Malfoy?” 😠

But so... ? Tom Riddle is a deeply embarrassing, mentally unwell trainwreck of a person. He's so much grosser than that. Yet you do not get that feeling at all in most Tomione fics. His worst character traits are often there but they’re made to seem sexy and flattering at all times.

I’m not saying your run-of-the-mill Tomarry fic doesn’t suffer this fatal flaw too—but when it comes down to it, Tomione doesn’t allow for his unsexy fallibility, period. Because the sexiness of the ship really depends on heteronormative romantic tropes and fantasies, which tend to be quite rigid and narrow.

And I understand and empathize with why this is; just look at Reddit, so many women in heterosexual relationships already must put up with mortifying, embarrassing, and unhygienic things (y’all know which posts I mean 🙁).

That’s just not what I’m here for. I love Tom Riddle because he’s a superficial narcissistic lunatic with no self-awareness and emotionally stunted outlook.

I don’t want to hear how he terrified the orphans if I’m not gonna hear about how he pissed the bed and got his bare ass whipped by a mean, toothless matron for chatting in sermon. I don’t care to see him bossing around those wimps at Hogwarts if there’s not at least one student who looks at “ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE” written in blood and feels tummy-churning secondhand embarrassment.

#tom #server #asks #offensive content #anti tomione #shipping wars

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slytherinshua · 6 months

Text

FLYING BICYCLES AND LOVESTRUCK MAGIC

genre. fluff. kiki's delivery service au-ish. a lil mutual pining. warnings. reader is basically kiki and sohee is basically tombo lol. some psychic magic mentioned. it's mostly just them being whipped for each other. osono cameo cause she's mvp fr. pairing. sohee x witch!reader. wc. 2.5k. a/n. the riize brainrot is SO REAL. idk why i felt sohee would fit the role of tombo so perfectly hes just sooo 💔💔 i love him guys 🥹

Sohee was 97.62436% sure that he was going crazy when he first saw you flying on a broomstick through the city. Of course, the other 2.37564% that had gone completely insane was fascinated, excited, and probably (definitely) head over heels in love.

He lived in a small town. One where the word went around like a whirlwind as soon as anyone new moved in. It was the most exciting thing that could happen for the residents there, especially when the newcomer happened to be a very pretty girl from a rich city.

Most people would move out of the town when they reached 20 or so to discover themselves. Yet they always seemed to find their way back when they were a bit more settled. It was a rite of passage— a route to adulthood that almost everyone assumed the youth of the town would take. Sohee liked his town, though, and didn’t feel any need to move away. He had already discovered himself enough to know what he wanted to do with his life.

There were exciting things to do that he doubted he would be able to do anywhere else. Visiting the town’s grandpa that ran the old antique shop, getting free candy from the young lady who ran the candy store after the old owner had passed away, seeing every new addition to the art gallery from the aspiring painters and sculptors in town. And, his favourite activity: investigating the old junk yard for spare parts to make his newest models.

Sohee liked to call himself an inventor. It felt spiffy and official. He showed off every new creation he pieced together with rusted tools and even rustier bits of metal like it was the next world-changing invention. He could spend hours in his dad’s old workshop working with nuts and bolts, seeing what the pieces could make once they came together.

He had been determined to make a flying vehicle for years now. After finding a beautiful old wind turbine in the junkyard when he was 14, he had started planning mock-ups for a bicycle. He would attach the turbine in front of it so that when you pedalled, the turbine spinned. The hope was that with enough inertia, you could eventually lift off the ground with it. He was skeptical that it would actually work, though.

He hadn’t officially talked to you yet. You had been in town for a couple days now, staying with the couple that ran the local bakery. Sohee thought you were absolutely beautiful from the moment he first saw you. He had been riding his bicycle past the bakery on his way to the carpenters to pick up some tools. One glance at you through the window had him abruptly pushing on the brakes, eyes going wide.

Maybe it was a bit of an exaggeration, but you looked like an angel. Or a goddess. Or a fairy. Sohee couldn’t decide which one, but he knew that you were the most stunning person he had ever seen. Since that day, he kept running into you in town, but his own nervousness had stopped him from talking to you properly. He had held a few conversations; enough to know your name and age, but clearly not enough to know that you could fly through the air.

Now, he was staring wide-eyed at the clouds, watching you soar just beneath them so effortlessly. He craned his head to watch you as long as he could before you disappeared behind the clock tower.

“Woah…” He whispered, jaw dropped in an awestruck expression.

“She’s quite the girl, isn’t she?”

Sohee turned to the side, nodding in agreement with what Osono, the bakery lady, had said.

“She’s amazing. Do you know how she does it?” He asked with a grin.

“Haven’t you heard by now, Sohee? She’s a witch! She chose our town to do her witch training.” Osono explained.

“That’s incredible! I didn’t even know witches actually existed! Do you know what she’s training in?!” Sohee felt like his brain was spinning at a speed incomprehensible to mankind. He kept thinking of more and more questions about you. He’d never seen anyone quite like you before, and the more he learned, the more intrigued he became.

“She said she’s still figuring it out— but she’s interested in love readings. For now, she’s using her flying skills to help me and the town. She’s an excellent delivery girl!” Osono beamed.

“Love readings…?” Sohee pondered the idea on his way back home. The next day, he found himself at the town’s library, scanning through the small section on magic and witches with more focus than he had put to almost anything.

“Miss witch, I’d like to get a love reading!” He announced happily, swinging open the door to the bakery where you were seated at the counter, seconds away from falling asleep due to the lack of customers. You jerked up at the sound of Sohee, immediately knowing that it was him from his playful nickname for you— miss witch.

“Really!? You want one!?” You jumped up from your seat and rushed around the counter to be face to face with him. Sohee had become your first friend in town. After he had seen you fly that day, he discovered the key to talking to you without being awkward. You could fly and he wanted to fly. There was a perfect common interest.

You loved talking to Sohee. He was infinitely more interesting than the kids back at your old home, most of which were stuck up and rude. Sohee was bright and kind and full of imagination and dreams and inspiration. He never got bored of you talking about being a witch, and you never got bored of hearing about his new inventions. You had never clicked so well with someone before.

There was also the fact that he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen. But that was… less important. You had a bad habit of crushing on boys without it ever going anywhere. You were determined not to repeat that disaster a sixth time.

“It would be my great honour to be your very first customer.” Sohee said dramatically, making you giggle with excitement.

“Well, then, dear client, shall we go to my witch lair? I can’t perform the reading anywhere else.” You responded, matching his dramatics perfectly. He grinned and nodded and you grabbed his wrist to lead him upstairs.

“It’s a bit messy— give me a second!” You rushed around your small attic space that Osono had been so kind to let you stay in for free. You hurriedly put away the food that you had gotten for breakfast and shoved some odd trinkets under your bed so that they were hidden. Sohee just watched, his heart racing. He really needed to get that under control.

“Where’s my witching supplies- Aha! Here it is!” You held up a small purple box, bejewelled with gold ornaments. It looked ancient and rusty— exactly the type of artifact that Sohee loved.

You set down a thin blanket on the wooden floor before taking out the little baubles and setting them in the middle of the fabric. Sohee sat on one end, and you on the other.

“Alright, mister… I have a series of questions, but for this to work, you must answer them completely honestly. If you lie even once, the whole thing will be messed up!” You had put on your mother’s joke witches had for fun. The sight made Sohee laugh, especially when you deepened your voice to sound old as you explained how things would work.

“I got it. I’ll tell only the truth.” Sohee promised.

“Once you answer all the questions, I’ll flip over this blank card. If everything works out, the name of the person you love the most will slowly appear before your eyes! Now… Are you ready?” You quirked an eyebrow, staring seriously at him even though on the inside you were about to burst with excitement. It was your dream to open your own love reading business. You just weren’t completely sure if you were good enough at it yet.

Sohee nodded eagerly, a mix of excitement and nervousness stewing inside of him. He wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, so he carefully followed along with what you did to make sure he didn’t mess anything up. You closed your eyes and he followed suit.

The questions you asked started out simple, without Sohee needing to deliberate before delivering the honest answer to you. But as they went on, they got more complex and more personal. Sohee had never doubted your abilities as a witch, but he hadn’t expected you to be able to see right through him.

“Last question…”

“Mhm?” Sohee could feel his stomach twist in nervousness, but he breathed steadily to try to calm his nerves.

“Do you believe yourself to be in love with someone at this current moment?”

Sohee swallowed slowly, his mouth and throat feeling parched all of a sudden. He took his time to think through it, though the answer was almost painfully obvious. He had never been more in love in his entire life.

“Yes.” He finally answered with certainty, a slight burden lifting off his chest. It was almost as if he was confessing to you in a way— and though he didn’t say it directly, it still eased some of his anxiety. He opened his eyes hesitantly after answering to see your face scrunched in concentration.

“No way-” You opened your eyes as well, frowning in confusion and looking up to Sohee with a questioning gaze. “By any chance are you…?”

“Huh?” Sohee blinked, confused at your actions. You shook your head quickly and stared down at the blank card.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

The air felt a little tense as you slowly flipped over the black card. You held your hand over it for a few seconds, shielding it from Sohee’s curious view. You lifted your hand carefully once you were sure it had worked and watched as the name slowly appeared on the card.

You sat in frozen shock once you read the name on the card, struggling to process what you had seen. Your name was displayed on the card, clearer than ever. There was no way that anyone could possibly mistake it or misread it, but you just couldn’t believe it.

“It- we- we must’ve messed it up somehow! There’s no way that’s- It must’ve got me confused, right!?” Sohee spluttered helplessly, his entire face a bright shade of red. Somehow in his calculations, he didn’t expect for the card to expose him that horrendously, right in front of you as well.

“I don’t think we did it wrong, though… Everything felt… right.” You said quietly. “Do you… like me?” You could barely get the words to come out of your throat.

There were some parts of your magic that you still needed time to trust completely. Flying had always been easy in that aspect; you either flew or you didn’t. But when it came to love readings, you wondered how likely it was that your magic had gotten messed up. You liked to be whimsical and believe that your love readings could be completely accurate, but your confidence had never been as low as in this moment.

However nervous you were feeling, it was a thousand times worse for Sohee. You had a small inkling of hope— hope that he would say yes. But for Sohee, he could only think of the possible rejection. Or the even worse possibility that this would tear apart your friendship.

“Yes…?” Sohee whispered out to you. You had never heard him this nervous or quiet before.

“Really? Are you sure?” You asked again, this time with a little more voice and hope surging in you. Sohee must have picked up on the hopeful tone, as he answered yes again, this time with more certainty.

“Then the reading wasn’t wrong?! You actually like me?” Your hand clasped over your mouth before you could ramble anymore in your state of disbelief.

“What about you? I mean… you probably don’t, right? But maybe…?” Sohee couldn’t help but be hopeful for your response, but he held himself back from being too expectant on the response he was dreaming for.

“Do I like you back?! Of course I do- It wasn’t obvious before now?” You stuttered in disbelief.

“I mean- I hoped you did, but I couldn’t be sure.” Sohee clarified. The tension in the room had completely dissipated by now, and your smiles were slowly coming back as the reality settled in.

“I’ve liked you since I moved here, I think. Didn’t you ever question why we kept running into each other before we became friends?”

“No? I just thought it was a lucky coincidence.” Sohee admitted with a laugh.

“It was because whenever I spotted you biking around town, I’d land in a street nearby and pretend like I was always walking that way just to cross paths with you!” You corrected stubbornly. Now that it was clear that the feelings were mutual, you wanted him to know the effort that you went through to get closer to him.

“I also started going past the bakery on my way home. It added an extra 5 minutes to my route, but it was worth it to see you working through the glass window.” He scratched the back of his neck shyly, mirroring your smile when your eyes brightened at hearing his confession.

“So… what now?” You questioned suddenly after a prolonged silence of both of you trying to stare at the other while simultaneously trying your best not to look obvious.

“Would you go out with me?” Sohee asked excitedly. “Oh shoot- I should’ve gotten flowers first. Wait here- I’ll be quick!” He stammered, rushing out of the room before you could stop him. He was gone only long enough for you to giggle in delight while you cleaned up the supplies you had laid out. Your witching skills had come in handy in the best of ways.

He was out of breath by the time he burst open the door again, but his eyes had never glimmered any brighter. He held a bouquet of pink and white roses, a little squished on one side from the rush he had been in.

“You know you didn’t have to go buy these…” You bit back a smile, taking the pretty flowers from his hands.

“My mom always said the best way to charm a lady was with flowers.” He panted and grinned at you cheekily when you shot him a look. You smiled as you sniffed the sweet scent of the roses. Sohee was about to say something else, but you pulled him into a tight hug before he could start, the unexpected gesture knocking all words he had into another dimension.

“I really like you, Sohee.” You whispered, your smile twinkling as you rested your head on his shoulder.

He took a second to get over the shock of you hugging him before he was wrapping his arms around your frame as well, mumbling back, “Me too.”

↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien

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beyondthesefourwalls · 9 months

Text

This Love Came Back to Me (11)

Summary: You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: second chance romance, language, smut and allusions of smut, stalking, breaking and entering, unhealthy obsessions, delusions of feelings, unwanted attention.

Part Eleven Word Count: 5.6K

Part Ten :: Series Masterlist

----

Bradley was up before you on Wednesday, and he took the opportunity to just lay and watch you for a few minutes. Your face was relaxed in sleep, no sign of stress anywhere. Little puffs of air escaped your slightly parted lips and your hair was a wild mess on the pillow. He couldn’t help the sigh at the feeling he got in his chest. He felt like his heart was going to explode every time he looked at you.

“You’re staring at me,” you mumbled suddenly. Your eyes were still closed and your breath still evened out, but you were clearly awake.

A smile tugged at his lips, a small sense of deja vu hitting him as he remembered a similar conversation that first night you ran into each other after seven months apart.

“You’re nice to stare at,” he quipped.

You let out a very unladylike snort, but finally blinked your eyes open. They were still heavy with sleep as you gave him a smile in return.“Mmm. Lucky for you, I like it when you look at me.”

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

“Mhmm.” You stretched your limbs, a mix between a sigh and a groan of relief escaping you at the feeling. Then you scooted across the minimal distance that separated your bodies. You brushed your nose against his as you slotted your legs between his, your bare skin smooth and enticing. You kissed him soundly, one of your hands coming up to rest on his cheek as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flush against him. The morning sun filtered in through the balcony doors, casting a warm glow over you both as you shared slow, lingering kisses. He savored the taste of your lips and the way your body fit perfectly against his.

Neither of you were in a hurry to pull away, but Bradley knew he needed to before he lost control all together. It was so easy to do with you, but he wouldn’t until you gave him a firm indication that that’s what you wanted.

For a moment, the only noise was the sound of your combined breathing. His eyes were closed as he leant his forehead against yours.

Eventually, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “Good morning.”

You hummed just as quietly, kissing the corner of his mouth again before shifting to bury your face into his neck. The feel of your breath on his skin caused goosebumps to raise all over his body. “Good morning.”

“What do you want to do today?” he asked into your hair, kissing your head through the tresses.

“I don’t know,” you murmured, your voice slightly muffled by his skin. Your fingers played with the curls at the back of his head and he nearly groaned at the feeling. He had no doubt you could feel how hard he was, pressed up against him like this. “Maybe we could go for another hike. Or do absolutely nothing. We could just stay right here like this.”

Bradley chuckled softly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back through the thin shirt you wore to sleep. “I like that last option,” he said, his voice filled with affection.

You giggled softly and lifted your head up to give him another sweet kiss. “Me too.”

You did eventually get out of bed, though it was certainly tempting to stay buried under the covers all morning. Unfortunately for both of you, your matching rumbling stomachs won out in the end. Neither of you felt much like cooking, so you decided to venture out of the cabin and drive. You grabbed brunch at a cafe, sitting at an outdoor table that was comically small for the amount of food that the two of you ordered. Your feet were tangled together underneath it, and it was all so easy and calm.

Your phone pinged while he was waiting for the waitress to come back with his credit card, and a quick flash of anxiety swept through him when you reached for the device. He hadn't told you about the messages or phone calls from the day before yet, and part of him worried it was Paul attempting to reach you another way. But you didn’t look upset or worried as you checked your notifications.

“What is it?” he asked, thanking the server and distractedly scribbling his name to the receipt she handed him, all the while keeping his eyes on you.

“I got an interview,” you told him, and when you lifted your gaze from your phone, your eyes were widening. It was like it was just clicking in your head. Bradley felt a smile stretch across his lips. “With that guy that Anna recommended. He just emailed me and said he was impressed with my resume and wants to set up a time to talk next week.”

“That’s the one you were really hoping for, right?” he goaded, even though he already knew it was.

“Yes!”

Bradley couldn't help but share in your excitement. He reached across the small table to take your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "That's amazing, Bug," he said sincerely. "I'm so proud of you.”

Your smile softened a little bit, and you were standing and leaning over the table to cup his face and kiss his lips before he could say anything else.

You didn’t stay in town too long, only popping into a few of the stores that shared the same stretch of street as the cafe. Your steps were a little lighter as you walked with your hands intertwined between you. A light rain had started once you got back to the cabin, so you spent the afternoon with your head in his lap, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair as you alternated between reading your book and watching tv; the sound of the rain was in the background as it came through the open windows. You cooked dinner in the early evening, something a little more elaborate than usual. He spent the beginning with his arms wrapped around you from behind, pressing kisses into your hair and the skin of your neck, until you eventually threatened to kick him out of the kitchen all together if he kept distracting you.

You opened a bottle of wine as he set the plates onto the table; it was one of the nice reds you had gotten in the wine shop earlier.

“I thought you were saving that for a special occasion?” he asked, remembering the offhand comment you had made when you bought it.

“I am,” you explained, and he felt his heart flutter when he realized you had just been talking about sharing it with him, even if it was just dinner you had made together.

The rain had ceased by the time you were done eating, and you turned to him with a bit of a glint in your eye. He raised a brow at the look, setting the plate he had just washed onto the drying rack.

“What?”

“Rain stopped,” you stated, “and we haven’t tried out the hot tub on the deck yet.”

You were right. You hadn’t. He had completely overlooked the fact that this rental had come equipped with a jacuzzi, tucked into the corner of the deck off of the bedroom. Because of that, neither of you had thought to bring swimsuits with you. He reminded you of that fact, and was surprised when you just shrugged a shoulder in response.

“We can figure it out,” you said simply.

Bradley had a sudden visual of you getting in with absolutely nothing at all and felt a flash of heat hit him. He sucked in a breath, and with the way you bit your lip, he thought maybe you were having the exact same thing go through your head. Your eyes did a quick glance down his body before returning to his own, and you quirked an eyebrow.

“So?” you asked.

“You had me at hot tub.”

You smiled brightly and pressed a kiss to his cheek before telling him you’d meet him outside. That’s where he found himself some ten minutes later, flipping the top back on the hot tub. He had stripped down to just his maroon briefs, and goosebumps lined his skin from the chill. The fall night air was crisp, and the stars shimmered overhead. The railing on the balcony was lined in string lights that made it so you weren’t completely in the dark. He was feeling the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot when he heard a whistle behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see you standing in the doorway, a mischievous smile dancing on your lips, holding two refilled wine glasses. You had a towel wrapped around your body and with the way your hair was piled high on top of your head, he could see the thin black strap of the bra you had put on that morning.

“I give this place six stars for the view,” you joked.

“Pretty sure the scale only goes up to four,” he said as you handed him one of the glasses. You just smirked wider.

“I know.”

He huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes, even as he felt his cheeks flush at your compliment.

“How’s the water?”

“Why don’t you get in and find out?” he suggested, his voice coming out a little deeper than he anticipated. You took a sip of your wine before tugging where you had the towel knotted at your chest, and all at once, the terry cloth dropped down to the deck. You stood before him in nothing but your bra and a pair of black, cheeky underwear made of the same lace material. He couldn’t help the groan that he let out as he looked you up and down.

“Damn.” He could feel his body reacting to the sight of yours and shook his head, clearing his throat. “After you,” he murmured, and he held your hand as you climbed into the jacuzzi and sank down into the bubbling water.

You let out a quiet moan that went right through him, and he was quick to join you before it became too noticeable. The hot water was a soothing juxtaposition to the outside temperature. You leaned back, your head resting against the edge of the tub, and closed your eyes. Bradley watched you for a moment, admiring the way your face glowed from the balcony lights. You looked almost ethereal. Breathtaking.

“You’re staring again,” you murmured, and his lips quirked. He wasn’t sure how you always did that.

“You’re nice to stare at.”

Your eyes opened slowly to meet his gaze, a soft smile playing on your face as you replied. “I catch you staring a lot,” you stated.

Bradley shrugged, not denying your call out, and then you shifted a little bit closer to him. He didn’t hesitate to lift his arm and wrap it around your shoulder as you tucked yourself into his side. It was quiet for a while, nothing but the sounds of the jets in the hot tub mixed with the natural sounds of the mountains surrounding you. Your eyes were closed again, and if it wasn’t for the fact that you were occasionally bringing your glass to your lips to sip your wine, he would have thought that you were asleep. You seemed so at peace, and it was all he wanted.

He felt the words right there on the tip of his tongue, desperate to come out. He swallowed thickly, but then you peered up at him through your lashes.

“I’m so glad we came here,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Me too,” he told you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He felt your breath on his skin when you let out a long exhale, and he instinctively tightened his arm around you. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just thinking about going back, I guess. All the things I need to do. I’m not so worried about work - I’m excited for the interview I have. But I started browsing apartments online earlier, and-”

“What?” Confusion settled over him as he tried to process your words. Apartments? “Why are you looking at apartments?”

“I told you I told my landlord that I wasn't renewing my lease. It’s up next month. Another house would be nearly impossible on such short notice, and I don’t want to cramp your sty-”

“Woah, woah. What?” he asked, eyes widening. He shifted sideways on the bench seat so that he was facing you more directly, setting his wine glass on the ledge behind your head before taking yours and doing the same. “Cramp my style?” he finished for you, “What are you talking about?”

He knew you were feeling a little bit embarrassed by how you dipped your chin and cleared your throat. He grabbed your hand between his before you could reach to snap the hair tie on your wrist, squeezing in reassurance.

“I know you weren’t expecting me to suddenly be there all the time,” you said softly, and Bradey was shaking his head before you were even done. “We haven’t been back together all that long, and-”

“So what?” he interrupted, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“What?”

“I don’t care about how long it’s been. And I don’t care about you being there. You aren’t cramping my style.” You looked at him with wide eyes, and he could practically see the wheels in your head turning. He sighed, and the words just kept coming. “I love having you close. I miss you when I’m not with you. I hate when we say goodbye. I know how important your independence is for you, so if you want to find something for yourself…I’ll support that. But you don’t have to go. I don’t want you to go. And you especially don’t have to right now, if getting your own place is what you ultimately decide to do. Please don’t make that something you worry about.”

Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you struggled for the words. Bradley started to feel a little bit of panic creep in, like maybe he had said too much too soon. “Bug-”

“I love being with you, too.”

Your voice was so quiet he almost missed it, but he felt some of the tension that had been building in his shoulders deflate. The hot water continued to swirl around you both as you stared into each other’s eyes, and Bradley’s grip on your hand tightened, as if he could convey his sincerity through his touch alone.

“I mean it,” he whispered. Your eyes shimmered with emotion. And before you could say anything and before he could stop them and think about what he was doing, the words were tumbling from his lips. “I love you.”

You blinked, seemingly taken aback at his declaration. “You do?” you asked, the question was laced with disbelief.

“So much,” he swore, voice filled with conviction.

A soft, genuine smile spread across your face. You reached up with your free hand to cup his cheek, your thumb gently caressing his skin. "I love you too," you whispered back, your voice filled with warmth and sounding so sincere.

Bradley couldn’t tear his gaze away from you. He felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest at how hard it pounded, even as he felt the calmest he had felt in as long as he could remember at your words. It was one thing saying it, but it was a completely different thing hearing it in return. He saw flashes of everything that had been and everything that could be, and it all narrowed down to you right in front of him.

He couldn’t help the broad grin or the giddy laugh that suddenly escaped as he leaned in to capture your lips. The taste of your wine lingered there, and it was sweet, intoxicating in a way only you could make it.

The water sloshed when you moved suddenly. Bradley didn’t even have time to finish widening his eyes or asking what was wrong when you straddled his lap and resumed kissing him.

The world seemed to fade away as you lost yourselves in the moment. The hot water, cool air, and the feel of your body flush against his created a heady mix of sensations. Your kisses deepened, growing more passionate with each passing second. The feelings between you two were undeniable, and every touch, every kiss, sent sparks of desire coursing through his body. He was hard in the confines of his briefs, and with the way you pressed yourself down on him, he knew you could, too.

He broke the kiss, his breath coming out in heavy pants, and rested his forehead against yours. Your fingers drifted down to his cheek, tracing the long faded scars.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he whispered, voice husky with want.

You chuckled softly, your other hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. A breeze drifted by through the trees and you shivered, the upper half of your body exposed to the chill. You arched your body closer to his, and the material of your bra scratched against his bare chest in a delicious kind of friction. You bit your lip as you swirled your hips just slightly, and he could see how your eyes were becoming more and more hooded.

You stayed like that for a long moment, breaths minglin together, and the silence only seemed to thicken the tension and raise the heat between you.

“Bradley,” you breathed, and he groaned at how his name sounded almost like a whimper.

“Yeah?” he rasped.

“Take me inside.”

He didn’t need any further prompting and he rose with you in his arms. He set you down beside your half empty wine glasses and stepped out of the water quickly, reaching for you as soon as his feet were on the wooden deck. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he dragged you to the very edge of where you balanced on the ledge of the hot tub. You giggled against his lips, only for the sound to break off into a moan when you opened your mouth to him. His big hands gripped your hips, the lace of your panties wet against his palms.

“Inside,” you murmured into his mouth again, followed by the breathy syllables of his name that tasted as good as it sounded. “Bradley.”

You tightened your grip on him as he lifted you into the air. Your tongue tangled with his the whole way, and he could feel the warmth of your core against him, even as the night air chilled his skin. You started laughing into the kiss again when he stumbled in the doorway to the bedroom, but he didn't skip a beat. He didn’t think or care about how both of you were damp from the water you just got out of before he dropped your bodies onto the bed, his lips never leaving yours as the mattress bounced under the sudden combined weight. Having you underneath him like that nearly made him dizzy with need.

“Please,” you whimpered.

Bradley had sworn to you before that he would always do whatever you needed from him, that he would give you anything you wanted. This was no exception, and as he slipped a hand under you to fumble with the clasp at your back, he thought about how he wanted to do it for the rest of his life. He thought maybe you’d let him.

“I got you,” he promised. You worked together to rid yourselves of the underwear clinging to your drying skin. When they were pushed to the end of the bed, his mouth slanted over yours again, taking your breath away in another searing kiss. He knew he had to make sure you were ready for him first, and he drew a small circle around your clit, your knees shaking in response as you gasped at the touch. He took his time, gathering your wetness on his fingers before pushing one into you.

“So wet,” he mumbled, the words slipping out before he could think it through. But you didn’t seem to mind as you frantically nodded.

“For you,” you gasped. Bradley bit off a curse as he surged down to kiss your neck, licking against the exposed skin before biting gently. You moaned in response, your hips bucking up into his hand.

“Bradley!”

He slipped a second finger in as his thumb pressed against your sensitive bundle of nerves. He pumped them in and out, his rhythm gaining speed as you started to tighten around them. He knew you had been turned on outside, and he knew it had been a few days since the two of you were together like this, but he still felt a flash of pride that he was able to get you to the edge so quickly.

He was thankful, too; truthfully, he didn’t know how long he’d be able to hold on himself.

He swallowed the moan that escaped you when you came for him, and he only let up on your clit when you twitched in a way that he knew meant you were oversensitive and needed a bit of reprieve. He tasted your arousal off his fingers as you got your bearings back, and when you noticed what he was doing, you let out a whimper that had him throbbing.

“Please, Bradley,” you gasped.

When he settled flush on top of you again, no barriers between you, you clung to him tightly. Your fingernails dug into his back and he hoped you left your mark on him.

He was hot and heavy between your legs, which you widened further in an invitation he happily accepted. “I got you, baby.”

He teased you, sliding the tip of his cock through your wetness a few times, coating himself in it before lining up at your entrance. He slid inside of you, your walls still fluttering from the first orgasm you gave him. You threw your head back into the pillow as he bottomed out. He stilled to give you a moment to adjust and dropped his face back into the smooth skin of your neck, breathing heavily. You were so warm and tight around him - the best he had ever had, by far. He couldn’t help but think about how you fit together perfectly in every sense.

He kept most of his weight with his forearm against the mattress, his other pulling one of yours from his back to intertwine your fingers with his. You urged him to move, and he lifted his head only far enough to press his lips to yours as he pulled his hips back.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned into your mouth.

His thrusts found a steady rhythm, pumping into you with a gentle force. Your legs tightened around his waist with every move, your hand squeezing his. When he switched the angle of his hips just the slightest bit, you ripped your lips from his and keened.

“There?” he asked, even though he knew he had found that spot inside of you, and was already moving to hit it again and again.

“Uh huh. Oh, god. Bradley.”

His breathing was becoming staggered, the movement of his hips sharper, and he knew he was getting close. But he refused to let go before you did.

If anyone deserved pleasure, it was you.

He released your hand from his to move it down, his index and middle finger finding your swollen clit again. You cried out his name when he applied pressure and he felt your walls spasm. “Come for me, Bug,” he rasped, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, panting into your skin. “Let me take care of you.”

“Come with me,” you begged, and Bradley’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head at how desperate and needy you sounded. “I want to feel you, please.”

His next thrust was harder, and the one after that quicker, and he knew the exact moment that you let go and flew over the edge. He grunted as you squeezed around him like a vice, and with two more short jerks, he was following behind, filling you like he knew you loved.

The sounds of your combined harsh breathing filled the air for a long moment as you fought to catch your breath. You winced when he finally pulled out and he shushed you gently, kissing your cheek.

You laid together after he cleaned you up, bodies sweaty but sated. Your legs were tangled and your face angled toward his as you draped yourself across his chest. You were so close that it was easy for him to brush a kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered. He said it because he finally could, and it felt so good.

“Mmm,” you hummed, “I love you too.”

His heart skipped a beat in the same way it did the first time you said it. You shifted against him, shimmying down to rest your head against his chest instead. He was sure you could feel the still slowing beat of his heart.

It was quiet for a while, both of you just basking in the afterglow. He was starting to doze off when you spoke softly.

“Thank you, B.”

Bradley picked his head up slightly, confused at your words. “For what?”

“For bringing me here. For taking care of me the way that you do. For…loving me so well, I guess. Just thank you.”

He breathed out your name and tightened his arm around you, pressing a firm kiss to the top of your head. He felt a mistiness in his eyes unexpectedly and cleared his throat. There was a million things he could have said in that moment, but he settled on something simple that encased all of it. “Thank you for letting me.”

---

Going back to San Diego a few days later was harder than Bradley thought it would be. He knew that this trip had been for you, but he also couldn’t remember the last time he had taken that many consecutive days off and not been itching to return already. In fact, he found himself wishing he would have taken even more.

He kept a hand on your thigh for the majority of the drive and you grew quieter the closer you got to the city. By the time he pulled the Bronco into the parking lot at his complex, you were completely silent, your bottom lip drawn between your teeth.

He turned the engine off with a sigh. When you turned to look at him, he was sure the look on his face reflected what he was seeing on yours - a small smile filled with a combination of residual happiness from the week away, and dread at being home and all that came with that.

“Back to reality,” you whispered, and Bradley gave you a sad nod.

As the day went on, he did his best not to let the bubble from a great trip completely burst, and he knew you were trying to hold onto it, too. It was only fitting, then, that as he was sorting through laundry that night, life came crashing down onto the both of you hard.

You were in the kitchen not too far away unpacking the takeout Thai that had just arrived, when your phone started vibrating violently on top of the dryer where you had left it. He winced at the loud, aggressive noise and reached up to grab it from his place on the floor in front of the machine where he was folding everything he just took out of it. He was opening his mouth to call out to you when he caught sight of the number. It was unsaved, a San Diego area code leading it off. It stopped buzzing when your voicemail picked up, only to immediately start again with the same number. A pit formed in his stomach and instinctively, he just knew.

Paul was calling you again. He had gone out of his way to get another new number, and was trying to reach you. Fuck.

“Who is it?”

Bradley hadn’t heard you walk back over to him until you were already there. He didn’t take his eyes off the screen as you sunk down to the floor beside him. It stopped ringing and started again. “B?”

He forced himself to tear his gaze away and meet your eyes. You looked at him expectantly, and guilt started churning inside him. He knew he had to tell you. You had a near perfect week that you created together, and now he was going to ruin it. He hated it, with every fiber of his being.

Texts started coming in next, and your eyebrows furrowed as you reached for the device. He held it out of your reach, and the look on your face turned into one of surprise at the action.

“I need to tell you something,” he said reluctantly.

You looked nervous now, and god, he wanted to fix everything. Fuck. “Bradley?”

“It’s about Paul,” he whispered hesitantly. His gaze shifted to your phone again briefly before looking back at you. He took a deep breath and reached for your hand, squeezing tight before delving in. “Your phone was in the bedroom on Monday night, and I heard it start ringing.”

“I don’t remember that,” you said, and Bradley shook his head.

“I was going to take it to you. But then I noticed you had a bunch of missed calls from an unknown number.” Your lips parted in shock, and your eyes flickered down. He watched as realization seemed to hit you. “He started texting after a few attempts. I knew it was him based on what he was saying. It was…ugly, baby.”

You looked as if you were going to ask him exactly what the messages said, but instead you pressed your lips together and let him continue. “I know I should have told you. But we had such a good day, and I didn’t want you to stress about it. So I didn’t. I took screenshots of all the calls and of the texts and sent them to myself, and then I blocked the number and deleted everything.”

.A few different emotions flicked over your face, so quickly he couldn’t decipher them.

“Do you think,” you stopped, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before you shook your head of whatever had been going through it that had snagged the words in your throat. “Do you think that’s him? Again?”

Bradley glanced down at some of what was coming through and grimaced as anger welled up inside of him. He tried to tamper it down, not wanting you to worry about his reaction on top of everything else.

Unknown: Why are you ignoring me?

Unknown: Where are you? You need to tell me.

Unknown: I can’t find you anywhere.

They were all much the same, and read similarly to the ones you had gotten the previous week. He nodded in response instead of showing you. He wouldn’t do that unless you asked.

The breath you let out sounded tired and resigned. “I think that I need a new phone number,” you said evenly. Your voice was steady despite all the emotions flashing in your gaze, and he knew you were struggling.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he agreed gently. If it weren’t already later into the evening when he knew a lot of stores would be closed due to it being a Sunday night, he would have suggested going right then.

You don’t say anything else as you helped him finish folding the pile of freshly washed shirts. You stood when you were done, going to put them away silently. He still held your phone in his hand when you walked into the kitchen just a minute later, grabbing both of the plates you prepared and taking them to the small table. He stopped you with a hand on your arm before you could sit down.

“Bug,” he said softly.

You let out a deep sigh and gave him a single nod like you knew what he was really asking with the syllable of your nickname. “I’m fine,” you said. “I’ll go tomorrow. And I’ll call Sadie. She…should probably know.”

He was meant to go back to work tomorrow, but he was already planning out his text to Mav to request the extra day. He didn’t usually like pulling the strings he knew he had with his godfather, but he would for you, every single time, whether you asked him to or not.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, and your face softened. You cupped his cheeks in your small hands and rose on your toes to kiss him.

“You gave me the best week ever. Don’t you ever apologize for making me happy. This…this isn’t on you.”

It’s on Paul, were the words you weren’t saying.

Not for the first time, Bradley wished the two of you could have stayed hidden away in that cabin tucked away on the mountainside forever.

-------------

Part Twelve :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: Sorry for the wait on this one! Hopefully that doesn't happen again. We're almost at the end! Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement for posting more🖤

Thank you to Mak and Em for all of your help making this story come to life. And thanks to Mak for the AMAZING banner!

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