#really my desk is like the center of my universe

[chemblrish]

My desk stands right by the window, which is great bc nice view and lots of light, but also my neighbors get to watch me bawl my eyes out here when the chemistry just isn't chemistring or headbang and sing with my headphones while integrating aggressively or just stare blankly into space when I'm so so so tired or who knows what else, I sure don't want to know what else 😶‍🌫️

[sundew199]

Times Two

a/n: good lord this is long and filthy. If you prefer to read it on AO3, it'll be linked. I've also never written a threesome before and tried my best, hopefully it isn't too horrible :)

words: 8,180

tags: Reiner x Jean x F!reader, rough sex, rough oral sex, Eiffel tower position, slight panty kink (Reiner), cum eating, Reiner and Jean are Bisexual, College AU, Reijean if you pay attention or care lol, pet names

What was it about Reiner and Jean that had you constantly glued to their hips? If you’re friends were to ask they’d say it was a double crush you were denying. If you asked your family their answers would vary from underlying crush, to enjoying being the center of attention or a close friendship. You personally didn’t think you were attached to their hips at first, but the more people started to whisper and theorize, you started to ask yourself the question. In reality, Reiner and Jean were your closest and longest friends, surviving multiple friend groups and growing up. You met Reiner in grade school, sat next to him on the first day of fourth grade and throughout the whole year due to the teacher’s assigned seating. The two of you might as well have been siblings, walking home together, eating dinner and playing at each other's house, even his mom and your parents were close after a while. Jean entered the scene later, seventh grade to be exact when he transferred mid year and as luck would have it the three of you shared almost all classes together. Reiner was the one who sought out Jean’s friendship and you became friends by proxy and from then on all the way to college the three of you were tight knit. 

Attending the same university is what you think further solidified the glue between the three of you, swearing to everyone it wasn’t intentional to attend the same university together. Some believed you and others didn’t, but you really didn’t care. Thankfully rumors spreading about you being in a three way relationship with them ended going to college, high school was rampant. You’d admit that it did bother you, because why couldn’t you be really good friends with two guys? Why did everyone have to make it seem the other way around? Reiner and Jean never hesitated to defend your honor against the rumors, landing themselves in suspension once or twice when defending you turned physical. Even when you tried to blame yourself, they never allowed it. 

Now when people questioned what the true nature of your friendship was with them, you’d play into the bit and come up with wildly different answers on how the dynamics of the relationship worked. Reiner and Jean both got a kick out of it as did you. 

Junior year of college is what changed things for the three of you. Since you couldn’t room with them in the dorms since they were guys, all three of you decided to rent a condo off campus. You’d spent almost all your life with both of them so there wasn’t any harm in living with them, besides all three of you were just friends. 

Towards the end of the first semester of junior year already and finals quickly approaching, you were buried in your books, studying like a madman to keep your GPA around or above a 3.5, needing the best possible grades to earn the degree you were working towards. Jean and Reiner had it easy in your mind, ashy haired man working towards a degree in Art History and the blonde meathead shooting towards that finance degree. In hindsight, they didn’t have it much easier than you, but they were also stupidly smart in their own respective studies. You envied them in a sense. 

It was chilly out, keeping two blankets wrapped around you sitting at your desk and scrolling through the notes you took the other day to refresh your mind for the practice test on Monday. As much as you wanted to deny it, you need a mental break from school but wouldn’t allow yourself to take it, not when so much was riding on the line. 

“Hey.” 

Jumping in your chair at the sound of a gruff voice at your bedroom door, blinking and rubbing your eyes from staring at the screen for too long. Swiveling to face whichever one of them it was, you wrapped the blanket around you tightly. 

“Yea.” 

“Are you still planning on watching the season premier of the show later?” Reiner asked, tapping his knuckles on your doorframe and leaning into it. Your eyes refused to focus on his face and instead on the bulging bicep through the fabric of the long sleeve shirt he wore. Since when were his arms that big? I mean fuck you knew he worked out but you’d never noticed how ripped his arms alone were. 

“Yeah if I finish going through my notes.” 

Reiner scoffed, rolling his eyes and approaching you, reaching over you to slam the laptop shut, deciding for you if you were going to look over the rest of your notes or not. 

“Reiner-” 

“You’ve been holed up in here for almost two days. I know finals are important but I’ll bet your brain is fried to a crisp.” Defiantly declaring, crossing those beefy ass arms over his chest and waiting for you to give in like he knew you would. 

Whatever. The premier of the new season of the show the three of you watched would only be an hour, and then you could return to forcing yourself to absorb as much information as possible. Sighing dramatically for effect and throwing the blankets off of yourself, you uncross your stupidly numb legs and ignore the sharp tingles running up from your foot as you stride over to the small closet to put on a sweatshirt. Reiner didn’t bother leaving as you tossed your t-shirt and bra from where you stood partially out of view to pull the sweatshirt over your head. 

“Jean is picking up food and drinks - is that my sweatshirt that I haven’t been able to find?” Sounding hurt and accusatory as you brushed past him out of your room, looking back to nod with a smile, because yes it was his and it was his fault for mixing it in with your laundry. He muttered down the small hallway to the main area of the condo all three of you shared, pinching your shoulder when he purposely knocked past you, hearing the muttering replaced with chuckles. 

One of them had taken the liberty to find all the blankets that were supposed to already be in the living room and tossed them all over the couch, setting up for the three of you to comfortably watch the premier. You could hear Reiner in the kitchen that flowed into the open concept living room, making a whole bunch of unnecessary noise in trying to find whatever it was. If you were being honest, living with your closest friends was turning into living with siblings, getting into pointless arguments and doing everything to get on each other's nerves. Would you change it to live with a regular roommate that could be a hit or miss in how well you got alone? Hell no. 

Finding a spot on the couch while waiting for Jean, you decided to look through all the notifications you missed while studying for hours. Some of your classmates were checking in, or asking questions about the notes, contemplating on whether you should respond. They could wait, Reiner was probably right when he said your brain was fried at this point. Checking social media quickly turned into envy seeing some of your other friends enjoying the holiday break, done with their finals and celebrating by jumping from parties to bars or wherever they sold cheap alcohol. If only you were done with finals so you could actually destress, but that just wasn’t in the cards. 

Jean came through the door after barreling through it, hands full with food and drinks. From the strong aroma, you knew he went to go get wings, always choosing the messiest option somehow. 

“Damn out of your room finally? Swore you died or something.” Commenting with a smirk as he passed by the couch to get to the kitchen where Reiner was snickering at his comment. Rolling your eyes instead of lashing back, you joined them in the kitchen to plate some of the food and momentarily forget about the weight of finals. 

“Please tell me you didn’t just get beer.” Approaching the center island of the kitchen, noticing the familiar white box in one of the bags that happened to be Jean and Reiner’s preferred drink of choice. If they wanted to give you a break, they would’ve at least gotten drinks that didn’t take four or five to actually start to feel the buzz. 

“No, I got you those lemonade drinks.” 

Ugh you could kiss him. As much as you loved Jean as a friend he had a tendency to forget to grab whatever you needed when he went out, always having to send you or Reiner back to the store to go grab it. Taking the glass bottle and popping the lid, the tingling fizzy drink left a slight burn as it went down your throat, just the right amount for you to down an entire six pack in a night and not regret your life choices in the morning. 

“Shows about to start.” Reiner announced after checking his phone, taking his plate with him to the couch. You and Jean did the same, grabbing the drinks as well to keep from having to get up and get another if you wanted. 

Sitting next to Reiner at a reasonable distance, Jean plopped down next to you and ended up sandwiching you between them. They were doing the absolute most to work every single one of your nerves, but you didn’t want to lash out again like you did earlier this week when one of them accidently ate your leftovers in the fridge. Tucking your feet under you as Reiner found the streaming service the show was premiering on, you actually didn’t mind being squished between them, their combined body heat doing more than the blanket over your lap would warm you up. 

The host for the show gave a quick recap of last season, breaking down the drama and how it might affect this season. This dating competition game that you had started watching out of boredom surprisingly took the guys interest, somehow watching it with you when it was on to turning into offense when you’d watch the latest episode without them. Despite the show being corny and scripted and at times unbearable to watch, it was nice to do something like this with them. 

“I swear to god if Jodi and that dick Preston aren’t broken up I might not watch the show anymore.” 

Jean hummed in agreement with Reiner, guzzling down the rest of his first beer and reaching for another. “I know, he’s so fucking annoying and Jodi is either dumb or desperate if she hasn’t left him yet.” 

Biting back a laugh as you took a bite of one of the wings, you looked at both of them to see they were being completely serious, so engrossed in this stupid show. The premise of this variant of a dating show was two people are paired up as a couple in the beginning and go through a series of challenges to see if they’re right for each other. Couples who continuously didn’t work together could get voted off or petition to break up with their partner. The downside was if there wasn’t another couple trying to split, you could be left without a partner and voted off, ya know all those stupid dating show rules that make you question why anyone would sign up to do it. 

Finally beginning to destress while nursing your vodka infused lemonade, it all went to shit when the couple you were rooting for petitioned to split. 

“Oh my god no! Why?! They were so good together!” Exclaiming and throwing your arms up, throwing your head back into the couch and pouting like a child. 

“Man that sucks, but he did fuck Serena last season so I’d leave him to.” Reiner commented, grabbing your attention even more, failing to recall that important detail. 

“Really?” 

“Oh yeah, they were getting each other off in that hallway, remember? Moaning so loud it's a shocker no one heard them.” Jean answered, laughing a little as he recalled the scene you’d clearly missed. 

“Yea! She was standing there going ‘oh josh faster! I'm going to cum, oh my god I’m so close!’” Reiner took it upon himself to imitate the moans one of the contestants were making, and you wouldn’t have felt as uncomfortable if it wasn't for that throaty laugh he let out there at the end, turning your cheeks flush with pink and throwing back the rest of your drink to hide it. Jean found Reiner’s imitation hilarious, laughing a bit harder than you’d imagine he would if he wasn’t finishing his second beer already, grabbing another and throwing his arm behind the couch and slouching, lifting his hips in the air trying to get comfortable. 

Suddenly the short commercial playing on screen was so interesting, taking small sips of the second bottle of lemonade and trying to drown out the sounds of their talking over you. Studying your ass off for the last couple of months left you little to no time to snag yourself a quick one night stand. You’d been able to ignore the urges and pour everything into your notes and reviews, but fuck it was harder than you expected. Espescially when you pick up on conversations between Reiner and Jean on their nights out, the girls they sometimes went home with and wishing you were getting fucked into the next semester. When all three of you moved in here, everyone agreed not to bring anyone home, unless clearing it with the other two that they’d be gone for the night. It hadn’t happen yet (that you were aware of) and you were glad, unsure how you’d feel knowing one of your best friends was getting their dick wet and having to listen to it. 

Regular programming returned and tried as you did to focus on what was unfolding, you just couldn’t. Replaying Reiner’s laugh in your head and Jean’s hip motion, turning you warm all over and settling something funny yet familiar in your abdomen. You wouldn’t lie and say you haven’t though about fucking one of them, mostly they were just passing thoughts and that was it, but now? Jesus fucking christ your head was a mess. This what you get for turning down outings with other friends to study, leaving you hornier than a motherfucker. It’d be fine, the show only had about thirty minutes left and then you could go back to studying and rub one out if you really needed to. 

“I wonder why there aren’t any same sex couples? I’d like to see how that plays out.” Jean’s words had a slight slur to them as he spoke, now reclined completely with his feet propped up on the coffee table. 

“Wasn’t there one last season?” Reiner asked, in a similar position as Jean, one arm behind his head and his half drank beer between his thighs. 

“Mm no, I think Zach and Marco made out on a dare but they weren’t a couple.” Giving them an answer after searching through your brain for that jaw dropping scene from last season that had everyone talking about on social media.

“Oh yea I remember that, that was hot.” Jean slurred, heat dripping in his words and causing you to raise an eyebrow. Maybe it was because he was drunk, that was what you told yourself instead of questioning how your friend really felt about that scene unfolding.  

Every little movement either of them did drew your attention, watching as Reiner drank the last of his beer, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, only to be pulled away by Jean’s groans as he adjusted on the couch. They weren’t doing it on purpose and you were tipsy so that explained the clenching of your thighs to ease the throb, not because you were getting turned on by them. 

A preview of next week's episode played at the end of the premier, taking the liberty to watch it before getting up and heading back to your room to get your mind out of the gutter. But as you walked away, Reiner grabbed your wrist, pulling you back towards him lazily. 

“Leaving already?” 

“I said I’d watch the premier with you guys and then study before going to bed.” Ignoring how large his hand looked around your wrist and how warm it was on your skin, taking in a sharp breath. 

“It’s Friday though.” The blonde whined, the slight inebriation turning him a bit sappy. 

“Play a game of cards with us and then go, please.” Jean chimed in, fluttering those hazel eyes at you, begging to spend just a little more time together. 

Not giving it much thought, you let out a sigh and walked to the media console below where the T.V hung on the wall to grab the deck of cards. Surely there was a quick game the three of you could play that wouldn’t send your mind further into the gutter or put you in a compromising situation. Jean managed to get up and grab some water for everyone, tossing one to you and Reiner as he sat down on the floor behind the coffee table, leaning back into the couch for support. 

“One round of B.S, alright?” Shuffling the cards between your hands and the table, repeatedly doing so that way everyone played fairly. 

“Lame but alright.” Jean agreed, chugging some of the water and sharing a look with Reiner that you didn’t understand and didn’t care to acknowledge. 

Dividing the entire deck between the three of you, now waiting for one of them to put down the ace of spades to begin the game. Reiner ended up having it and motioned towards you to go next. This game used to be a staple for you guys, playing every chance you got and getting into heated arguments whenever someone suspected someone else of putting down the incorrect card. 

The game went quietly in the beginning, until you picked up on Jean and Reiner putting down cards that they ‘supposedly’ had, smiling behind your deck every time they called out cards that were in your deck, the only thing keeping you from calling them out was waiting until the deck got a little thicker. 

“Two eights.” Reiner called out, looking at you to go next. 

“Bullshit.” 

“Ha! You sure? Cause I promise you I just put down two eights.” Reiner laughed, encouraging you to rethink your decision but also egging you on to check in hopes of watching you take the entire deck. 

“Check it.” Jean motivated from beside you, pushing his shoulder with yours. Reiner still had that confident look on his face which did end up making you regret your call out a bit, second guessing if you were right to call his bluff. No matter what since you called B.S, you had to check and you were going to livid if it actually was two eights. 

Reaching forward and thumbing apart the top two cards from the rest of the deck, you snuck a peak and saw what you didn’t want to see; two eights. 

“Nevermind, I take it back.” Knowing that wasn’t how the game worked but hoping you could worm your way out of it. 

“Uh uh, check.” Reiner insisted while standing up, coming to lean over you from behind, taking your arm and trying to force you to check the first two cards so the entire deck would go to you. Doing everything to resist, laughing as the man behind you snarled and laughed in your ear, still trying to force you to check with his hand over yours. Jean was leaning over to help, slipping an arm under the one that held your deck in the other hand, sandwiching you between them for the second time that night. 

“Just check, it’s okay if you’re a loser this round.” The taller of the two sneered in your other ear, brushing his lips over the shell and letting out a breathy laugh. You instantly shivered and became much more aware of your position, Reiner pressed into you from behind and Jean from the side. Heat rose in your entire body, refusing to let yourself enjoy the firm muscular bodies rubbing against yours. 

Resistance faltered completely as you got caught up in the overwhelming thoughts and sensations coursing through you, Reiner succeeding in getting your hand to flip over the top three cards, chuckling directly into ear. 

“Now was that so hard?” So close to the side of your face, you couldn’t help but turn and meet him. His eyes were still a bit hazy from the alcohol but not enough for you to feel guilty for leaning in and pressing your lips to his. 

Reiner gasped softly, giving into the feel of your soft plush lips on his and parting them when he felt yours begin to. You had absolutely no explanation for what spurred you to lean in and kiss what you considered your best friend, but you did and fuck did it feel nice. Reiner’s lips were surprisingly soft and the lingering remnants of his beer on his tongue kept you latched to his mouth. 

Behind you, Jean watched intrigued, though not entirely shocked. He would feel left out if he weren’t enjoying his two best friends making out on the floor of the living room, noticing how his sweat pants turned a little tighter. He smirked when Reiner peeked an eye open, a silent invitation to join in while pulling away from you. Jean wasted no time grabbing you by the back of your neck and slotting his lips into yours, sighing delightfully and wasting no time moving them with his. 

There wasn’t enough time for you to process that it was Jean you were kissing now, your other best friend, letting out a small moan when his tongue dipped into your mouth. He was slightly more insistent than Reiner was, moving faster and with a purpose but still reeling you in as your mouths stayed locked together. 

Coming up for air, not even wanting to think about what had just happened, you stood quickly. 

“C’mon,” Nodding towards what you think was Reiner’s room, knowing that if you gave yourself a moment to consider what you were about to do, you’d back out and hole yourself away in your room and never speak of this again. 

Both of them were quick to follow, smiling victoriously behind you. The door shut and you sat on the edge of Reiner’s bed, looking at both of them and debating on how this should continue to carry out. Consequences could come later, right now you’d gotten a taste of what you’d been actively avoiding for the sake of a GPA and needing so much more. 

“However you want to do this, I’m down.” Voicing your consent and ultimately putting all of your trust in both of them. You would admit this could be smoother sailing since you’d known both of them since childhood basically, but just not like that. There wouldn’t be much need to worry about keeping them in check like you would if it were someone you went home from the bar with and part of that excited you. 

Out of the two of them, Jean approached first, standing between your legs and grabbing your face and kissing you again. Slowly as your mouths returned to motions from minutes ago, the taller man began to push you back into the bed, holding himself above you with his hands beside your head. The bed dipped in the sudden weight of another person, knowing it was Reiner. 

Slender hands slipped under your sweatshirt, roaming around your skin and littering it with goosebumps. You gasped when the lith fingers brushed the underside of your breast, remembering you weren’t wearing a bra. Jean chuckled into your lips, humming as he dared to cup the flesh, sighing pleasantly when brushing his thumb over your nipple. 

Abruptly his mouth left yours, leaving you dazed and sitting up to search for his lips, only to see hands that weren’t Jean’s pulling his shirt off. Reiner stood on his knees just behind your head, tossing the shirt to the other side of the room and giving a playful smack to Jean’s pectoral. 

“Sharing is caring by the way.” The blonde rumbled behind you, scolding Jean and pinching his nipple teasingly, hearing Jean hiss softly before Reiner slipped his arms under your armpits and hauling you to face him. He was in nothing but his boxer briefs, the faint imprint of his half hard cock catching your eyes and widening at how big it looked beneath the fabric. Fuck you hadn’t even thought about how big either of them were, both impressively fit and no doubt having a dick to match the rigid muscles rippling over their bodies. 

Falling with Reiner as he leaned back on the bed, you threw your legs over his torso and smashed your mouth to his, feeling another set of hands from behind you lift the hem of your sweatshirt until you were bare from the waist up. The man below you groaned when you sat up on his abdomen, running his hand across your stomach. Acquainted hands from earlier snakes around to your chest, Jean cupping both of your tits and softly kissing down your neck while circling his thumbs over your nipples. 

“Fuck,” Reiner breathed from below, raising his hips as he watched Jean tease and stimulate your nipples in to pert buds. Mindlessly, you began to scoot down until you came in contact with the bulge beneath Reiner’s boxers, grinding in time with Jean’s circling thumbs. The blonde groaned again, bringing his hands to your hips and encouraging you. 

“Eager huh?” A voice teased, pinching both nipples harshly and sucking the side of your neck. You couldn’t think of anything but the rising heat in your body, the teasing from Jean and the quieted groans from Reiner below. Maybe you were stupid for never giving this a shot before, both seemed eager and willing to please and show you what a good time looked like. 

“Are these my sweat pants?” Jean asked, pulling off of your neck and slipping one of his hands to the waistband of said sweats, snapping the band against your skin. 

“Mhm.” Unable to give any other answer as Reiner started rolling his hips up to yours, matching the roll of your own. Wasn’t intentional to wear either of their clothes but seeing how it looked now only made you more desperate for them and if that got you what you wanted, then where was the harm. Reiner began to tug at the waistband, sitting up on his elbows after hearing the short conversation between you and Jean, aiding him by lifting your hips and no longer straddling his waist. 

Enough teasing, you decided, pulling down Reiner’s boxer briefs after he tossed the sweats aside, gripping the base and watching his face contort at the contact. He was thick from the base up, intimidating you from the sight and size alone. Jean chuckled, moving to lay beside his friend, cupping the side of his face and hovering above his lips. Interesting to see there was no resistance from Reiner when their lips slipped together, craning to reach the ashy haired man like he was desperate for his taste. Smirking while the two of them made out, you flattened your tongue over the top of Reiner’s cockhead, fluttering your eyes at the delicious groan that Jean swallowed from Reiner. It’d take some working up to taking his dick all the way down, girthy enough to know your jaw would ache when it was all said and done. 

Sucking around the head and moaning when Reiner’s hand reached down to grip Jean’s dick still shielded by the fabric of his briefs, seeing his hand move up and down. Had they done this before? You couldn't help but wonder the more you took Reiner’s dick down seeing how they were both so comfortable with each other’s touch, and the slight jealousy of being left out. Jean’s hip rutted into Reiner’s hand, breaking their make out session to finally pull his briefs off and give you a look at what he was packing as well. It was slightly longer than Reiner’s, by an inch or two but not as thick, pausing your bobbing head to stare between his legs. 

“I think she likes it.” Reiner hissed, bringing a hand to your head, pushing you further down his dick and letting his head fall back when the tip brushed the back of your throat. 

“Haven’t met anyone who hasn’t.” Jean quipped back, moving off the bed and coming to stand behind you. You watched Reiner’s eyes follow him, a sly smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. Warm hands massaged your ass cheeks, gasping around the cock still deep in your throat when two fingers swiped over your clothed pussy. 

“Fucking soaked.” He commented behind you, Reiner groaning approvingly as he still guided your head up and down on his dick. Jean then pulled your panties down, tossing them over to Reiner who shamelessly brought them to his nose, listening to him mutter a few words and pull you off of his dick to give you a break. Jean then took to spreading you apart, licking a strip from your clit to your entrance, squeaking out a moan and falling forward onto Reiner’s abdomen. The blonde pulled you forward until your tits dangled in his face, taking one into his mouth. 

“Holy shit-” Gasping at the double stimulation, forgetting all shame and grinding back into Jean’s face, who appreciated the gesture with a firm slap to one ass cheek, dipping his tongue inside you, slurping obnoxiously. You were shaking, struggling to hold yourself up, moaning like the whore you felt like. Reiner managed to keep you steady above him, holding you so he could bite and suck at your over sensitive nipples. You knew both of them were experienced but fuck, they were intent on making it impossible to make any future hookups impossible to enjoy, hoping this wouldn’t be a one time thing. 

Reiner suddenly bit down hard on your nipple, pulling off it with a tug and causing you to wince at the slight pain. Unsure of what would cause him to do that, you turned around to see one of Jean’s hands between your bodies, languidly stroking the blonde’s spit coated dick. This wasn’t exactly the right time to question the nature of your two friends' relationship, but the way Reiner was moaning and struggling to return to the task at hand, it continuously flashed in the back of your head. Jean was still buried in your pussy while simultaneously jacking Reiner off, pressing your forehead to Reiner’s and practically synchronizing your moans. 

“Fuck, have you two done this before?” asking the man below you, watching his slow nod come before his answer. 

“Yea - fuck - every once in a while.” panting as his hips grinded into Jean’s hand, and sitting up enough to where he could pry the man away, seconds away from cumming. 

Jean took the hint, also pulling away from your pussy and stroking it affectionately. You winced at the final slap he gave to your ass, coming back to lay beside Reiner, taking the side of his face and turning it towards him. 

“Pussy tastes fuckin’ devine.” 

“Oh yea?” Bolding swiping his tongue over Jean’s bottom lip, speaking as if you weren’t there listening to them talk. You watched as they kissed again, yearning for the combined taste and chastising yourself for not noticing the signs for whatever they had going on sooner. 

“Think I need a better taste for myself, lay down for me baby.” Reiner instructed, already moving to get out from under you. Jean chuckled deviously, pecking the side of your mouth and moving to the very back of the bed, reclining against the headboard, patting his inner thigh. Reiner immediately knew what he was wanting and waited until you were sitting between the other man’s legs to center him between yours. 

“Keep’em spread for me.” Glancing up to the other man, running his palms over your inner thighs. 

You were already so sensitive from Jean eating you out minutes ago, you were afraid you weren’t going to last much longer. Nevertheless, you let Jean hook your legs over his and watched on baited breath as the blonde examined your slick and puffy folds. 

“Fuck, such a pretty pussy.” His voice so airy, breathing over your cunt prior to latching onto your clit. Your back arched off of Jean’s chest, whining at the intentionally harsh sucks. The man behind you held you down with an arm around your chest, chuckling right beside your ear. Reiner looked up, smiled against your tingling flesh and flicked his tongue over your clit while he continued to suck. 

Jesus fucking christ, it was too much, you were already starting to feel yourself cum when Jean’s hand tipped your head back. “Don’t cum, not yet gorgeous.” 

“Jean, I can’t.” Mewling pathetically, feeling the beginnings of tears at your waterline from the overstimulation. 

“Sure you can.” Giving a slow grind of his dick on your lower back, the promise of a silent reward if you did what you were told. Keeping your head thrown back on his shoulder you shamelessly moaned and whimpered as Reiner alternated between sucks and swirls of his tongue, listening to his chuckles as you writhed against Jean. He finally pulled away only to shove his middle and ring finger inside, pulling you too look at him by your chin as he sat on his knees between your legs and furiously fingered you. 

“Fuck look at you, so pretty baby.” He cooed with a smirk, running along the spongy part deep inside of you and giving a small tilt of his head, knowing you would take it as your indicator to cum. 

You came on a broken cry, arched off Jean’s chest and pulsating around Reiner’s fingers. Both of them laughed endearingly at their combined success at getting you to come. Reiner pulled his fingers out, locked his eyes with yours and sucked the two digits clean. Jean was the one who moaned behind you at the act, dick still grinding into your lower back subtly. 

“Think you’re okay to take one of us?” One of them asked, still delirious from your orgasm to tell who was asking. You gave a nod and sat forward, not really caring how but still feeling the ache in your cunt for more. 

“Alright hands and knees then princess.” It was Jean instructing, hearing his voice vibrate in his chest that was still pressed to your back. 

On shaky legs you sat on your knees, watching them move around as you positioned yourself on all fours. Reiner was still behind you, massaging your ass cheeks and letting out huffs of appreciation at your puffy wet folds, his and Jean’s handy work. Jean sat on his knees in front of your face, running a loose fist over his angry cock, using the pre-cum leaking from the slit to lubricate his motions. 

“If it’s too much, pinch my thigh or kick the brute behind you.” Jean swooned, holding your head up to look at him as he spoke, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip, watching the anticipation blaze in his irises. 

“We’ll take care of you angel,” Reiner pressed himself into your back, lips brushing against the shell of your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. All you could do was nod, witness the shared glance between both of them and wait on pins and needles. 

The fat head of Reiner’s cock started to slide between your folds teasingly, wetting the tip and making it hard to focus on your gentle kisses you were giving to Jean’s. It was good they were both aware of their size and knew they couldn’t just shove themselves in disregarding you completely, but holy shit, if your weeping cunt wasn’t enough to entice Reiner to slip inside you already then you weren’t sure what will. 

A hand held your jaw when you enclosed your lips around the tip, sucking long and slow, tasting the salty pre that continuously leaked out. Jean’s head was thrown back, the defined muscles cascading over his body clenching the more you took in his cock more. You could hear Reiner chuckle on a low breath, pushing just the tip inside of you and giving a full body shutter. If their goal was to drive you insane with their pace, it was working, taking things into your own hands and pushing your hips back into Reiner until you were flush to his pelvis. 

He choked, dug his fingers into your hip and somewhat growled with the ragged breaths he was taking. It was Jean’s turn to laugh now, the sound so disgustingly seductive you could feel yourself grow wetter around the cock you shoved yourself on. 

“God you’re fucking tight, feels so good.” The blonde breathed out, pulling his hips back nearly all the way, returning the favor by thrusting forward and sending Jean’s cock deeper down your throat. The hand not holding your chin tangled harshly in your hair, looking down with parted lips and hooded eyes at the sight and little reaction you gave. They may have known you all your life but they didn’t know how well you could take dick, letting a small amount of pride surge through you at their astonishment.  

Their rhythm synchronized quickly, settling somewhere in the middle of not too soft and not too rough, letting you adjust to their respective sizes. You knew it wouldn’t last before they abandoned it all and used you to find their pleasure, just from radiating restraint coming off of them, eventually fucking your throat and pussy like you were nothing but a hole to be filled and that thought alone was exciting. 

“Shit, do that again.” Jean breathily exclaimed, enjoying the method of your tongue swirling around his shaft as he plunged in and out of your mouth, tipping your head back with the hand still in your hair. Giving him a hum, you repeated the action, felt your stomach flip in on itself as he moaned prettily. 

There was a slight hitch in breath from the man behind you, faltering in his thrusts and seemingly regaining his composure. Something about Reiner experiencing the same surge of arousal as your were at Jean’s expression and action thickened the lust hanging in the air around you. He didn’t resume his pace like you were expecting him to, but yanked back into focus on Jean tightening his grip in your hair and pistoning his hips forward, fucking your throat with vigor, something snapping inside him. 

“There you go, gorgeous.” Growling, inhaling sharply through his nose. Your eyes were welling up with tears, the ache in your jaw beginning but you didn’t want to stop, not until his cum was trickling down your throat, leaving you no choice but to swallow. Reiner palmed both of your ass cheeks, spreading them far apart and slamming into with the same force Jean was. This sudden switch up had your legs nearly buckling, tears rolling down your cheeks and pathetic whines and whimpers muffled. Your pussy fluttered around Reiner everytime Jean thrusted down your throat, the wet squelching noise turning obscene, your gummy walls sucking the blonde back in over and over, like your pussy craved to be stretched and fucked on his thick cock. 

“Fuck she feels so good, so wet,” Reiner groaned, talking to Jean, again like you weren’t there. 

“Mm, she sucks cock better than you.” Jean groaned back at the mental image his friend was painting, acknowledging your mouth felt just as good as your pussy probably did. 

“Not my fault, you barely give me a chance before trying to get me inside you.” 

Their banter of a conversation sending you into a new wave of arousal, images of their bulky bodies fighting over who would fuck who and never in your life did you think something like that would turn you on. Despite it being your two best friends fueling these fantasizing images, you couldn’t help but want to be in the middle of that from here on out. From the way both of them fucked you, there wasn’t any desire to look for anymore hook-ups, not when the two perfect candidates were right here. 

“Gonna cum princess, be a good girl and swallow it all for me.” A husky voice drawing you back to reality, doing your best to give him a nod and look up at him with doe-like eyes, a trick that worked on just about every guy. 

With a slow drawn out groan, Jean pushed the entirety of his cock into your mouth and down your throat, pressing your nose to the happy trail below his belly button. Hot ropes of cum shot down your throat, feeling him ease up and pull out of your mouth so he wouldn’t accidentally choke you with his cum. He gave you a lopsided smile, wiping away the milky liquid from your bottom lip and the corner of your mouth with his thumb, shuffling over to Reiner who was still fucking your pussy absolutely raw. You could only assume the blonde cleaned off the cum smeared thumb Jean presented him, based on the hiss and brief collision of mouths. 

A heavy palm landed on the center of your back, forcing you off of your elbows holding you up and forming a deep arch in your back. From this angle, Reiner was able to sink so much deeper inside you, splitting you in half on his thick cock, crying out with a moan. 

“Glad I held off, been dying to hear those pretty moans again baby.” He chuckled, putting more of his weight into the hand on your back, forcing you to keep the arch. 

“Fuck Reiner, don’t stop.” Gasping, twisting the bedsheets in a tight fist, the tears welling up in your eyes again. 

“Don’t plan to, sweetheart, I want to see you leaking by the time I’m done.” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, unable to stop the constant moans and incoherent noises leaving your lips. Jean had come back into view, partially laying down beside you, keeping your hair out of your eyes and giving you a look of endearing smugness, like watching you getting fucked by Reiner was better than fucking you himself. 

Skin slapping on skin echoed in the bedroom, your body coated in a layer of sweat and your limbs so weak that if it weren’t for Reiner holding you by the hips now, you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself upright. Your spongy walls clenched repeatedly around him after another orgasm, unsure of how many at this point. 

“Doin’ so good, doll.” Jean cooed, pinching the nipple he had been messing with and muffling your broken squeak with a soft kiss, keeping you occupied. Reiner grunted, beginning to break his steady harsh rhythm and fucking into you furiously with abandon. His breathing turned into short gasps, letting out something of a whine, tipping his head back with two final slams of his hips before cumming inside of you. 

A familiar warmth filled your pussy, moaning weakly into Jean’s lips, giving up on holding your position. Reiner pulled out slowly, groaning as he watched a glob of his cum drip from your hole. You collapsed on the bed, forcing yourself to turn over and lay on your back, placing your hands over your eyes to ease the dizziness you were experiencing. 

Just when you thought all the nerve endings in your body were shot, you sprung forward when a flat tongue glided over your folds, seeing Reiner lap up the mess he made between your legs, smirking and moving out of the way so Jean could do the same thing. 

“Fucking filthy.” Muttering at the sight of them both taking turns cleaning you up, your legs twitching and tingling from sensitivity. They both looked at you guiltless, even though you were shaking with overstimulation that didn’t stop you from pressing Jean’s head into your folds, watching as he eagerly lapped at Reiner’s cum. They switched again, Reiner being gentler this time, only running his tongue across your messy slit twice before using his middle finger to shove some of it back in. 

Reiner moves out from between your legs to lay beside you, cradling the side of your face for the sole purpose of giving you a taste of his cum. You were just as shameless, moaning into the kiss and running your hand through his sweaty hair, feeling him smirk against your lips. He pulled away, grabbing Jean by the back of the neck and slotting his lips between his, kissing him rather tenderly. 

With zero strength to make it to the bathroom, let alone your room to grab a change of clothes, Reiner and Jean took the liberty of taking care of you. Both of them pulling on their sweats thrown around the room, Reiner cleaned your inner thighs while Jean went to your room to grab you some underwear after tossing you one of Reiner’s sweatshirts. All three of you situated yourself into Reiner’s king bed, you of course in the middle of them both. There was so point in going back to your room and studying, not when you had several unanswered questions. 

“So how long have you two been dating?” They both froze beside you, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

“We’re not dating, we just fuck occasionally.” Jean answered, Reiner nodding to further reaffirm the statement, but you weren’t buying it. Their chemistry in bed was enough to convince you they’d been hiding a relationship from you. 

“You just fuck? No feelings attached?” 

“There’s obviously feelings when we’ve been friends this long, but we’re not exclusive.” Reiner responded, propping himself up on his elbow and looking in the direction of you and Jean. “We didn’t tell you because there wasn’t anything serious between us.” 

Okay, that made more sense than you were expecting too. But experiencing what you just did created a longing inside of you, one that might’ve been there that you didn’t want to acknowledge before now. Jean and Reiner were your best friends without a doubt, but they were also so much more than that and in order to not ruin the friendship, you shoved that deep down inside of you. 

“But,” Jean’s hands from behind turned you to look towards him. “We’re also not opposed to the idea of you being a part of this situationship.” 

“You’ve talked about this?” Surprised to know this wasn’t a coincidence happening, sounding like they planned this in a way. 

“Of course we have, do you know how long both of us have had a crush on you?” Reiner laughed, sending your mind into a flurry of confusion. They liked you? Like holding affectionate feelings beyond friendship for you? 

“Huh?” 

“Since junior or senior year of high school. We didn’t know we both felt the same way about you until after we had sex for the first time six months ago, agreeing that if it ever came to the point where you chose one of us over the other we would be okay with it.” Jean was speaking now, softly and almost lovingly, sending a blush to your face. 

“And we’ll never ask you to choose, if you want only one of us that’s fine and if you end up wanting both of us, that’s fine too.” Reiner spoke with the same inflection Jean did, softly smiling and looking at you endearingly. 

“I want both of you.” Blurting out without even thinking twice, hearing them laugh. But you knew you would rather have both than just one, it's always been the three of you. 

“Don’t decide now idiot, we’re being serious.” Jean pinched your shoulder with a frustrated grunt, rolling his eyes while Reiner just laughed softly. 

“We can talk about it more tomorrow, it’s late.” Reaching over to turn the lamp off on his bedside table, pulling you down under the comforter into his arms and kissing the top of your head. Jean shuffled behind you, pressing his chest to your back and kissing your cheek. 

For a few moments you refused to close your eyes, trying to break down all the new feelings and emotions you were experiencing, from earlier when you were at their mercy, to the confession from them both. It was in a way exciting, and whatever ended up happening between the three of you, it would work out in the end.

[smallestapplin]

Aaa hi, I love how you write Prowl. If it's okay, can u request something cute with him and a human s/o?👉👈

I love Prowl so much, thank you OTL

-

-

-

It's comical, really.

A giant robot man absolutely smitten by such a small human, you fit in the center of his servo, you climb him like he's a tree just get him to pick you up and place you on his desk.

Prowl is a very protective partner, he's already lost so many people he was close to, he refuses to let anything happen to you. Even if that means you sleep in his habsuite with him.

But what most intrigues you are his doorwings.

You've watched how bots like Starscream practically speak with his wings, how they flutter when he's happy, or fan out when he's angry, or tuck in close when he's scared.

Even bots with smaller doorwings like Bumblebee, it's a bit clunkier but much the same, you can read him just by looking at them.

But you can't with Prowl.

His stuck close to him, but never move not even a twitch unless he's transforming from his alt mode, it's the only time you've seen them move.

You can't read him.

You can't tell what his emotions are from them or what he's thinking. You tried asking Bee about them, only for him to get bashful and clam up.

You tried asking Skyfire, only for him to respond much the same, covering his face plate and refusing to look at you for a week.

Something about them was important and asking about them was somehow taboo.

"You're staring again."

You blink, snapping yourself from your thoughts. You look up, meeting his blue optics, his resting expression being all the greets you.

"What, is it illegal to stare at my handsome partner?" You smile, chuckling at how his cheeks dust with blue.

The energon flowing through him shows so prettily on his face, you can't help but stare. He narrows his optics at you, giving you a suspicious glance before going back to his reports.

"No, I suppose it's not something I could arrest you for, but a fine maybe."

You let out a fake gasp, which earns you a playful smirk from him. It always makes you melt that you are the only one that gets to see such a side of him, not many do.

Yet his wings still don't move.

You want to know what would it take for his wings to mirror his emotions, but it seems you're just going to have to test it out yourself.

"A fine? Oh officer how could you be so cruel." You whine for dramatic effect. Your heart skipping a beat when he chuckles.

"Hm, suppose I'll have to up the charge with that attitude. Say...three kisses sound fair?"

Prowl can feel his body twitching, longing to show his courtship to you in the way he instinctively knew how, but he's trained so long to keep his wings from moving.

But you make it so hard.

You make him want to be more show boating, to show everyone and the universe that you're his, that he's the lucky bot you deemed worthy to be your beloved.

You bashful giggle sends his spark into overdrive, you're just too precious for him, you make him a mess even though he doesn't want to admit it.

"Just three?"

The playful tone in your voice makes him snort.

"What, you want more? Just how needy are you?"

"Oh, so sorry that I like kissing my super hot boyfriend."

"Tch, you humans and your weird words."

"Shut up and lift me up, I want those kisses."

He rolls his optics before letting you hop up in his servo, lifting you up in front of his face plate. You see him hesitate for a moment, looking away from you for a split second before meeting your eyes once more.

Even still he's nervous, he can't believe someone so cute and sweet actually wants to be his partner and actually wants his affection.

He doesn't know what you see in him, but by Primus he won't disappoint you.

In the middle of his thoughts you take a few steps forward to be closer, and kiss his dermas. For once you've taken the stern bot by surprise, his optics widen a fraction, but then you hear it.

You hear a metal 'clunk!'

You pull away and manage to see behind him, his doorwings are up high and shaking. Prowl is quick to notice and forces them back down, fighting his own instincts to keep them close to his body.

"Did your-"

"No, no they didn't, you didn't see anything."

"Oh my god you moved them! They wiggled! Can you do that again, that was so cute!"

He's surprised at just how excited you are, he never thought his wings would mean that much to you, you're a human after all you don't understand the silent language wings hold.

Prowl looks to the door of his office, making sure it's still closed and that no bot is walking nearby, he will be damned if anyone else sees him like this.

With a groan and sigh he loosens his wires and lets his doorwings do what they want. You can't help but stare in awe and how they twitch and flutter.

"Thank you, I know it must be hard to let loose like this. I'm honored you're letting me see you like this."

You don't know how many centuries it took him to control his wings, just so enemies couldn't read his next moves or his emotions and get an upper hand.

You don't know how he felt like he lost apart of himself and his culture before the war.

You don't know how much your words meant to him.

"Hush up and kiss me again, would you?"

He grumbles, ignoring your chuckling at how angry pout even if it's not that angry.

"Whatever my sweet bot wants."

[theheartbreakprincesss]

red lips and rosy cheeks, a criminal minds imagine

pairings: fem!reader x bau!team (platonically of course) and fem!reader x spencer reid (if you squint a little)

word count: 800ish

warnings: none i think. no use of y/n because i don’t really vibe with that. no angst, a little fluff, maybe? it’s mostly just funny i think. also not beta-read, or like we say in ao3, no beta we die like men.

author’s note: i have been binge-watching criminal minds for a couple weeks now and of course i’m obsessed with it, and this visual of spencer becoming a little flustered over seeing his crush all dressed up popped into my mind. it’s my first time writing an imagine with the reader as the main piece in the story, so idk be gentle with me? i also never wrote for criminal minds and i’m only in season 4. i just wrote this instead of sleeping or actually writing my other fics. sorry if this is terrible anyway. i’m open to feedback! thanks for reading <3

Working for the FBI could be a handful, sometimes, but the job had its benefits. You could catch criminals and help people, make a difference, you know? But something you would never expect to count as a benefit was the possibility of being called in the middle of a date.

You didn’t even want to go on that date, but your long-time friend Emma had insisted she knew a guy that would be perfect for you. Emma knew you since you both were undergraduates working on their degrees, so you had figured it wouldn’t hurt to give the guy a chance.

It wasn’t your best moment.

Not that the guy turned out to be a psychopath or something like that. But the ice of your drink had barely started to melt when it became clear that Sean wasn’t the guy for you, and by the end of your martini, you could see that Sean was too self-centered and trying too hard to be something he was not, with the fake watch and the well-pressed but clearly cheap suit and exaggerated tales of his life. An hour into the date and you were begging to the universe to offer you a way out of that bar.

Thankfully the universe seemed to listen to your plea, and you let out a relieved sigh when you saw Garcia’s name on the screen as the phone rang. Apparently, Hotch wanted everyone at the office right that moment.

That hurry was what prompted you to go into the BAU headquarters straight from your date, thinking that a stop by your apartment to change would take too much time and that you could take the clothes out of your go bag and change out of your outfit once you got there.

“Hey there.” you greeted as you walked into the bullpen. “Is everyone here yet?”

“Rossi and Prentiss are on their way.” Morgan said from his desk. “Wonder boy is getting coffee.”

“Oh, okay.” you mumbled, moving to take off your coat and wondering if you would have time to wipe off the red lipstick before the briefing.

“Damn, pretty girl.” you heard Morgan say, that suggestive tone in his voice that annoyed the life out of you. “Did we interrupt something?”

“Only the most boring date I have ever been on.” you scoffed, nervously fixing your dress. It wasn’t inappropriate or something, just very different from what you used to wear. It had been Emma’s idea, actually, to pair that black sleeveless dress with knee-high boots. “He spent the entire time talking about himself.” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, look at you!” Garcia exclaimed as she got into the bullpen. “You look like a million bucks, darling.”

“Thank you, Pen.” you said. “What’s the case about?”

“A woman went missing in Indiana this morning in the same way three more disappeared in the last month before they were found dead.” JJ told, walking out of her office. “Oh, hot date tonight?” she asked.

“Disappointing, actually.” you laughed. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” you heard Spencer’s voice from behind Penelope.

“About her date.” Garcia said. Spencer joined them as they all stood near your desk, two coffee mugs in his hands. His messy hair was the first thing you noticed, looking like he had been dragged out of his bed. He handed you the second coffee mug, the one with little cartoon kittens stamped on it, then his eyes really focused on you.

“Oh, thank you.” you mumbled, taking a sip of it.

“I– yeah, I…” he stammered, eyes moving up and down, up and down.

“Are you alright, Doc?” you asked, using the nickname you had given him a few weeks into working together.

“Ooh, I think you broke pretty boy.” Morgan laughed.

“It’s probably the red lipstick.” Garcia pointed out, joining Derek in his laughs. You waited for one of Spencer’s famous info-dumps, where he would talk about how red lipstick used to be made out of crushed beetles in Ancient Egypt or something, but he was still silent, lips parted like he meant to say something but couldn’t figure out what.

“Do you need me to reset you or something?” you were now having a bit of fun with it. It wasn’t like you were trying to be mean, but both of you had been dancing around unspoken feelings for a while now.

“I… you look pretty.” Spencer finally managed to say.

You put the mug to your lips, trying to hide the blood that was rushing to your cheeks as Morgan whistled.

“Go on, wonder boy.”

“Derek? Shut up.” then, you looked at Spencer again, who was timidly smiling at you.“Thanks.” you mumbled.

Spencer looked at the mug on your hands, focusing on the stain of your lipstick on the rim of the mug.

“Uh, did you know that the first known red lipsticks were created by crushing gemstones in Mesopotamia over 5.000 years ago?”

•

[halemerry]

Okay so I wanna take a moment to talk about gravity. Now I know what this sounds like, but bare with me here I promise I'm not looking to do a physics lecture. But I've been rotating this around in my head for a couple days now and I think there's something really critical in the way the show presents it to us.

For example: it's one of the few things actually listed in our introduction to this show individually while our protagonists build the universe, right between matter and everything else.

The show draws our attention to it here fairly bluntly by naming it but there are other incidents that, while I would not call them subtle, are not quite as on the nose.

There are at least three times Crowley chucks something he's holding in his hands across the room. They're played for comedic bits but they all feel very weird and pointed to me - especially both times he does this to books that he seems to have no purpose for holding other than to chuck them later. It caught my attention mostly because everything in me recoiled at the idea of him doing that, but the more I thought about the way they're so visible and pointed was important. They almost feel like weird hiccups in the scene they're in.

We also get gravity as an implied threat with Gabriel climbing out the window and, of course, with every mention of a Fall. But there's also more mundane uses of gravity in the season that while not odd in isolation, the fact we get it popping up so notably is interesting to me. There's also the scene with Nina and Maggie under the awning where rainwater's weight gets pulled down by gravity, the scene in 1941 where Aziraphale drops the picture of them onto the floor before they have their gray area talk, Gabriel dropping the matchbox, and I'm sure there's more. The point is the show is littered with reminders that gravity exists.

Now I know what this sounds like. I know it seems like yeah. Duh. They're on earth. Which has gravity. Of course gravity is a factor in nearly every physical action they do. Why are you even talking about this at all?

Well, it's because of a scene that is one of my absolute favorites in the whole season: the Gravity Lesson.

The scene opens with Jim throwing a book (My Best Games of Chess, an interesting title that feels pointed) repetitively at a desk. He's testing gravity himself, looking confused.

Crowley then descends from the upper level, carrying a stack of books. He pauses his descent on the spiral staircase and notes what Jim is doing.

Then we get this shot. Notice the light here. Jim is in the light from the windows but relatively in the middle of the shot. He's an angel still, though not nearly as in the Light as he was as Gabriel. And he's notably at ground level, on earth. Meanwhile Crowley blends into the shadows of the shop itself. He continues down the staircase, sauntering vaguely downward, until he finally hits earth level to be even with Jim. There's symbolism here, in the lighting, in the way they move through these frames, in the way the staircase spirals like an orbit.

Crowley continues this same sweeping circular pattern to come around the bookshop and place him in front of Jim. Unable to resist a question, even one that wasn't asked out loud, Crowley tells him about gravity. He moves center toward Jim here. A meeting in the middle. This is the first scene we see Crowley interact with Jim in a way anything near amicable. He explains how gravity works. "It's, um... A thing that happens when objects are pulled together. In this case, they're all pulled downwards because Earth is the largest thing around."

As he speaks, Crowley moves away from Jim, toward the back of the bookshop. But he stops very rapidly because Jim goes and asks him why. Crowley frowns to himself. He says he can't remember. He says it seemed like a good idea when they were all talking about it.

He walks back to Jim, giving this question some real thought, and settles on, "So things would stay where you put them, not just drift off." And Jim, backlit by the windows still, kind of frowns and drops the book again and points out. "But it doesn't stay where I put them. It goes down."

When the book hits the table it also visibly does not land precisely over where Jim dropped it either. It settles out of place, bouncing slightly from the force of it. This is what drew my attention to this scene more than anything else.

Because it's interesting isn't it? They're both right in their assessment here. And so much of this story is about people not fitting quite where they're dropped. Aziraphale and Crowley are both caught in Earth's gravity, jostled out of their respective places. The very first shot in the intro sequence emphasizes this idea. Crowley and Aziraphale meet in the middle on earth (where Crowley then says let there be light and lights a flame to guide them going forward).

Gabriel and Beez too fall out of line as soon as they get caught in Earth's gravity. Memories are deleted, but can't entirely escape the gravity of their old home. Memories are added, but you can't predict exactly the way they'll form. Miracles backfire and don't land quite as they're expected. We obey Heaven or Hell as far as we can, but not necessarily exactly as they'd like. These shifts eventually become predictable and eventually we learn we can calculate the odds of how gravity can impact something, but as Jim shows us here a little bit of the drift still happens. In the end it's all just firing bullets at ears and pretend to catch them in our teeth.

And there's viewing this line of thinking from the perspective of God. God who functionally dropped the universe into the gravity of Fate and Choice just to see where it would land.

And then there's the Fly.

As Jim points out here, some things actively resist gravity, at least temporarily. Flies go up. This is very fun, given Beelzebub's arc this season, but I think it's getting at more than just that. Crowley and Jim both pause to watch the fly rise upward, drifting away from Jim and toward the dark half of the shop. Crowley says Jim makes a good point and then shifts into "Right, the plan, Operation: Lovebird."

Given the plot of season 1, I find the use of the word plan here pretty interesting. Especially given that the event that follows this is Crowley trying and failing to get Nina and Maggie to recreate his own meet cute. Like the idea of these two being drawn together will fix everything.

And that got me thinking about Crowley's line at the end of season 1. About what if God planned it that way. What if they're God's own Operation Lovebird. We know that together they can do very powerful things. This whole season starts with them, while trying to keep their power under control and contained, do a miracle so big it could've brought someone back from the dead nearly 25 times. Last season ends with Heaven and Hell thinking they've become something impossible. The Metatron here goes out of his way to separate the two of them like he's afraid of what they're capable of together. And he seems to have successfully managed to do this.

But a Fly can't stay in the air forever. The Fly is always drawn back to Jim. Because not all gravity is about Earth itself. The same way Gabriel's memories are drawn back to him. The same way Beelzebub and Gabriel are drawn to each other in the first place. The same way Aziraphale and Crowley have been described time and time again as drawn in by each other. They're Alpha Centauri. Twin stars orbiting each other. They're constantly going in circles around each other. It's a dance. With the hands touching in the middle. Because that is a gravity too. They complete each other the same way the Fly completes Jim.

So what about choice? Think about the Ball episode. Think about how everyone in the shop is being influenced by some sort of miracle. Their clothes and behavior shift and change and Nina in particular shows us that this is Noticeable. Forcing something in a gravity it doesn't like or want makes it have a hard time settling. It doesn't go quite where you drop it.

And then there's the chat Nina and Maggie have with Crowley. "We're not a game. We're real people," says Maggie. And Crowley tries to argue this saying that they both needed help and they both push back that it is still not his right to meddle with. A game. Like the title My Best Games of Chess. Like the thing we know God has been using as a framing device since season 1. A thing the narrative always has pushed as a bad thing.

Maggie and Nina are choosing to not let beings above them influence their choices. They actively resist being compelled by Aziraphale in the bookshop together because they know what's right. His gravity is not enough to overwhelm their choices. And at the end maybe they're not together but they're working on it. And, maybe, if they do come back together (when they do, according to Maggie) it will be when they are ready and when they are choosing each their free of the constraints of the game or higher power. And that gives me hope that's where we're headed for the Ineffables as well.

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓞𝓫𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓷

SoftDark!Joel Miller x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Explicit pictures of you taken by a man you cheated with find their way to your boyfriend's father's desk. He isn't too impressed with the artistry. Good thing he can make it right. He’s a photographer after all.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. No outbreak, NONCON, DUBCON, coercion, blackmail, manipulation, power imbalance, implications of revenge porn [not by Joel], infidelity, girthy age gap [reader is in her early 20s, Joel is in his early 50s], explicit photographs and photography, petnames, praise kink, daddy kink, minor size kink, soft dom!Joel, sub!reader, fingering, edging, just the tip action, creampie, cumplay?, unprotected P in V [be better!!]. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶

Word Count: 5.9K

A/N: Surprise Joel Miller smut because why not. This is my first time writing for Joel, so please be gentle. Going for the subtle horror meets porn vibes. Hope you nasties enjoy. mwah 💗

Masterlist

I never walk about after dark

It's my point of view

'Cause someone could break your neck

Coming up behind you

Always coming and you'd never have a clue

I never look behind all the time

I will wait forever

Always looking straight

Thinking, counting all the hours you wait

“S’ just a hobby.” Kind, gentle mister Miller had scratched the back of his neck modestly, towering over you as you inspected the black and white photo negatives freshly hung on his walls. He just seemed happy that someone appeared to be taking up an interest in his retirement activities. It was an interesting choice, you thought, to hang up the negatives. 

That was your first time visiting the Miller household, and had you known your boyfriend’s father was as unassuming and sympathetic as he turned out to be, you wouldn’t have been as worried about meeting him as you were. You surely wouldn't have been able to guess looking at his pictures. But his scowl melted away into a soft, subtle smile the moment you walked through his door, and so did your reservations. 

You learnt a lot from him that evening– about cameras and such. He indulged you in conversations about your life and interests– you had many in common. There were quite a few people at the Miller’s Christmas party, and he made sure you weren’t too lost in the crowd. It was nice to have a listening ear.

Humble as he was, it was only months later you discovered his pretty pictures in a photography magazine. At the hotel you were staying in while on vacation with his son. It was the last vacation you ended up taking together. Switzerland. 

Since that Christmas you visited him every once in a while, occupying the couch in his office to help him sort through his prints, tidy up his gear, and chart out subjects he wanted to capture. His son didn’t really like making the twenty minute commute back home, so you brought his well wishes with you. Mister Miller liked the strawberry puff pastries you baked, so you brought them along as well. 

He was a quiet guy, and after all these years alone seemed to enjoy the company of someone in the house. His face lit up just that little bit whenever you came over. Enough to let you know you were welcome back anytime. 

His office was cozy. With a large Persian rug at its center, and tufted, walnut brown, leather furniture. He had an expansive library of literature beside his desk, one that he’d fitted to the wall himself. Reading- another one of his retirement hobbies. 

His desk was tidy, almost completely empty save for a picture of him and his brother Tommy, sitting on a ledge with their arms slung around each other, an in-progress construction site for background. Judging from the lack of gray hair on his head, and the absence of the little crinkles beside his eyes, the photograph was at least twenty years old. It looked like it belonged to an alternate universe. 

Mister miller looked a far cry from the sophisticated, whiskey drinking, cigar smoking, middle aged man you knew. A regular ol’ Joe, or Joel, rather. He had this rugged boyish charm about him. He was smiling wide, he looked happy. There was a jarring absence of that tired look in his eyes. Whether he looked more handsome back then, or now– you couldn’t decide. 

It was late July. You watched the menacing, dark gray clouds drift lazily towards you from your living room window. It was 4pm, but you had the lights on, and the oven going in your kitchen. The younger Miller was not yet back from work, even though he was supposed to be off by 2:30. At times like that one you hardly regretted your unfaithfulness. 

You had your little dinner date with Mister Miller that evening, but from the looks of it you might have had to reschedule. A crack of thunder reverberated along the walls of your two bedroom, and had you reaching for the kitchen timer you’d abandoned on your center table– the dial dangerously close to hitting ‘0’.

It felt more wrong than it should, calling it a date, considering the circumstances. You couldn’t say you didn't feel guilty still meeting his father, telling him that things were going great when they really weren’t. You wondered what Joel would think of you if he ever found out about your little secret. 

It was difficult not to wonder how two people could be so similar and different at the same time. Why, save for some of his good looks, Mr. Miller’s best qualities did not seem to pass down to his son. Admittedly, you thought about it a lot. You thought about it when you found a shade of lipstick that surely didn’t belong to you stain the collar of his cream sweater. 

Things had spiraled far out of your control since that moment. Into your secret paradise of hotel rooms and weekend getaways. Worst of all, you knew your partner was living a parallel life to yours. You could have ended your relationship, but things were just never that easy. Especially when consciously, or subconsciously mister Miller was part of the mix. 

You reached in the oven and pulled out the pastries. Looking between the custard you’d put into your piping bag, and the strawberries you’d cut lengthways laying beside the powdered sugar. The clouds were closer than they were five minutes ago. Your backyard was no longer the lush Eden of green and purple it was in the morning. You thought of Mister Miller– spending the night alone at home, sitting at his desk, with no dessert to enjoy after dinner. 

You reached for the piping bag and sighed, beginning to assemble the sweet treats and lay them in the pink paper box you’d picked out for him from your kitchen cabinet. 

—

By the time you got to his house thick droplets of rain were already coming down from the sky. It was about three shades darker than it was when you left home, and the minacous clouds had caught up with you. You glanced at your phone. 

7:00 pm 

You felt a drop trickle down the side of your cheek as you ran up the front staircase leading to the main door. You rang the bell. It sounded full, and new. He must have fixed it recently. 

Mister Miller opened the door. He always wore some variation of the same flannel shirt and dark jeans. Like a cartoon character. It was quite charming. You liked it. It was soft, and smelt like his perfume. Tobacco, Sandalwood. He rubbed your back soothingly when you hugged him. 

You handed him the pink box. It had a darker pink ribbon wrapped around it, folded at the top into a big bow, with a small card wedged in between the loops. 

“To Joel Miller :) ” 

He chuckled, then smiled. “Thank you, sweetie.” You didn’t need his gratitude, he was nice enough to you as is, but you did appreciate it. In the past months he had become your only real excuse to bake. 

He welcomed you inside, and soon enough you were settled in the dining room. He’d hung up a new painting since you’d last visited, and changed the light switches on the wall. Every time you were over there was a new addition to the home. You figured he liked having something to do. 

By the looks of it he’d lit the candles there a while ago, and laid the table. He’d butterflied napkins in their napkin rings, and set out glasses for red, white, and dessert wine. You felt a lot better about not canceling. You noticed the brand new table runner against the table’s wood. He told you he bought it that morning. He sounded excited. 

You helped him bring in the pot of stew from the kitchen, as well as a plate of cheese and a loaf of warm bread set on a wooden board. He served you some stew, then cut a few slices of the bread he’d baked and placed them on your side plate. It was surprising that he’d taken up an interest in baking. He always said he preferred to cook on the stove. He did it well. 

“Taking after you.” he’d said, reaching for the wine decanter. 

You wondered if he ever taught his son to cook, and if he did why the latter never liked to do so. You recognised the cheese on the platter. It was from the shop beside your house. You’d served it when he came home in February, with berry jam, marmalade and grapes. He hadn’t been back since then. 

He was mostly quiet during dinner, as always. He listened to you ramble about the show you were watching, and how you found your grandmother’s recipe book in your attic. You assured him you’d be trying every recipe in that book. He said he hoped so. Other than that it was quiet. A comfortable quiet. And you watched wax dribble away from the candle wic, and pool at the base of the candelabra. 

He cleared up while you brewed some tea and placed your pastries on the hand painted porcelain tray you’d gifted him for Christmas. You padded across the hardwood floors to his office, and it was only then you noticed how heavily it had been pouring outside. 

You peeled back the white lace curtains to find a sheet of rain clouding your vision. You made out the dim, golden lights coming off the neighbor’s porch, and the street lamps flickering gently. You were glad you came. It was all quite welcoming, and warm and golden in the Miller household– far more than you would be if you decided to stay back home. 

The door clicked open, and you felt him walking up behind you as you stood at his bookshelf. You pointed to the clock on the wall above it. “It stopped.” He exhaled heavily, with his hands on his hips, and looked up to the pathetically stuttering hours hand. It looked like it was fighting for its life within the confines of the glass– spluttering, struggling. 

“Fixed it two days ago.”

You peeled your eyes away. 

He eased himself into his leather office chair, reaching below the mahogany table to lift a large cardboard box filled to the brim with film. Used, unused, polaroids, disposables. It had red electrical tape around its edges, and the words ‘32, spiral cord and wire’ scribbled in black sharpie. 

“Gotta sort these.” He looked at you apologetically, but you reassured him with a smile, and poured him a cup of tea while he inspected the box. Your eyes wandered to the wooden clock, the hand still pleading for help. You heard it's garbled tic. The contents of the box clattered to the desk, rhythmically with a crack of thunder outside. 

You placed a plate and cup in front of him, then took your seat on folded legs across the table. The white curtains momentarily set ablaze, followed by another hard, violent thrum. You foredged through the pile, lightly covered with residual dust. The rings on your fingers sparkled when they caught the light of his table lamp. 

Amongst the many treasures were some polaroids of the lake mister Miller liked to fish in, the cabin he built upstate, and the back end of Tommy's Miller’s orchard. They looked like test films to you. Not as fixed on composition as Joel was. The settings on the camera all over the place. 

In the pile, under an oversaturated photograph of an apple tree, two familiar eyes peered up at you– much of the face covered and lost to the clutter. You reached for it. Bound together with a thin, blue paperclip were three separate photographs flimsily hanging on to one another. 

You felt sick to your stomach.

The eyes were familiar, because they were yours. 

A mangled torso, waxy, glossy legs, a chest glazed with the sheen of sweat. You looked more like a deserted mannequin than you did yourself. The dark gray “lighting” rendered your body and its surroundings lifeless– ironically, you remember quite enjoying it in the moment. But the polaroids were far more reflective of what you felt of them at present– plagued with regret and shame, and lifelessness. 

How long had he known? Importantly, How did he find them? It hurt you to even think about it. The sound of the stuttering clock was deafening in your ears, ringing like an ominous, cruel joke. 

You distinctly remember taking those pictures. Worse, you remember thinking of mister Miller as your partner had clicked them. You thought of what he’d think if he ever saw them. You could have never guessed you would actually find out. 

“How long, sweetheart?” You forced yourself to look up, finding his eyes already boring you. He was upset, and angry, and there was something brewing behind his eyes. But worst of all he was disappointed in you. And out of all the possibilities, somehow that was the worst. You’d rather him be yelling, because there was something about that soft, gentle voice of his that unnerved you. 

“Why didn’t’ ya say somethin’?” It was like a car crash, you just couldn’t look away from the polaroids in your hands. Your spread legs, bare breasts, panties thrown to the side. You opened your mouth to say something, but you just couldn’t manage it. 

“Really shouldn’t let just anyone take those kinds of pictures.” Your eyes welled with hot tears as he reprimanded you. The whole ordeal had you feeling like you’d been sent to the principal's office, sitting across from him at his desk, both his forearms leaned on the table as he threatened you with consequences. He continued to speak, despite being met with your silence. 

“You’re lucky these ended up here, would be a shame if he found out about it before you did.” While your little affair hadn’t ended well, you surely hadn’t expected whatever this was from your ex partner. He must have still thought your boyfriend lived at his childhood address. Boy did he make a miscalculation. You didn’t know which outcome you preferred. 

You wanted to explain yourself, wanted to assure him you weren’t some cheating, lying piece of shit. That you and his son were just not working anymore, that you felt guilty, and never did it again, that the man who took those pictures was the last one you slept with. That you couldn’t just end things with his son because you didn’t want to lose him. “Mister Miller- I-” 

He cut you off, snatching the images from between your fingers. You watched with burning eyes and your heart hammering in your chest as he inspected them. The man would never look at you the same. He sighed, his downturned, disappointed eyes catching yours. That look, it broke your heart. 

“I mean, look at these babygirl. Ya’ look dead.” 

With your palms cold and sweaty, and cheeks set ablaze, you sure felt like it. The burning in your chest and neck had become almost unbearable. 

“Such a cute lil’ body ya’ got there. And this-” he shook his head, his unblinking gaze forcing your eyes to his. “This boy fuckin’ ruined ya.” He tossed the polaroids on his desk, and leaned forward. 

It took you about ten seconds to realize that mister Miller’s real quam with the pictures was, for better or for worse, not the fact that they existed, or worse, weren't taken by his son, but that they were bad. Not morally, or ethically, especially considering how they’d landed in his possession, but artistically, formally. 

“Would be a shame if my son were to say, find em, layin’ ‘round.” The room began to spin in slow circles. In a second a flash of lighting struck through the curtains in the window behind Joel, his frame completely backlit by the blinding light momentarily. You winced as another harsh crack of thunder descended upon the quiet office. 

“No, mi- Please-”

“‘Specially to see ya like this, catch ya like this. In these god awful pictures.” He took your chin between his fingers, eyes filled with faux concern, brows furrowed. But behind the obvious facade there was something sinister and cruel. Something you wished you had seen before. Because you were sure it had always been there. 

“How ‘bout we fix ‘em, huh babygirl?” your eyes widened at the realization, at the weight of his implication. His grip on your chin was unrelenting, a warning, a little taste of what was to come. Had he forgotten somehow that you were in fact his son’s girlfriend and not his? A girl who was to him, until about ten minutes before, his future daughter in law? 

“You gonna help daddy fix ‘em for ya?” Time seemed to lose its cadence, every moment  stretched endlessly as you remained trapped under his dead eyed, unwavering gaze. His words sent a jolt between your legs, that name sent a jolt between your legs, and had you squeezing them together shamefully as you struggled to blubber out a response. 

He raised his brows in question, once again offering you the artificial choice before you were sure he would take what he wanted himself. You swallowed thickly, and nodded. It was a lot less difficult than you let yourself believe. What were you going to do? 

“Hmm good girl. Get on ya knees sweetie.” Still gripping your chin he reached for the camera on his desk. A polaroid SX 70– the one he used to click a picture of you blowing out your candles on your birthday. In that same office, where he sang to you alone, because his son was on a work trip. 

He pinched your cheek, and got up to round the table. You knew better than to talk back. You were reminded when you saw how his frame towered over you, like that first night you’d met him. Except this time his broad shoulders and muscular arms were threatening, intimidating, and undeniably making you weak in the knees. 

Pushing your chair back you got on your knees on that once thick, soft Persian carpet. It’s weave like a thousand needles piercing your skin, and no longer the cloud on which you liked to sit. 

“Would’ve expected more from a smart cookie like you. Didn’t I teach ya better sweetie?” It was sick. You knew he was talking of not only your carelessness, but those pictures. You should have known to come to him. He would have helped you figure it out. Your relationship troubles, and how to take those photographs. He squatted down to your level, eyes raking over your body like you were already on display for him. 

“Lemme see ya sweetie.” You wished he would just rip off the bandaid and do it himself. It would feel less humiliating. Reaching for the buttons of your sweater you undid them one by one. He watched your every movement, eyes trained on your chest as you exposed the swell of your breasts. 

He reached forward, and brushed his thumb over your skin, hushing you soothingly when you shivered. Your hot skin burned further under his feather light touch. It was like you’d always imagined– gruff and rugged, but skillful. Just like him. His fingers were rough, and reminded you of the photograph of him and Tommy on his desk. He suddenly looked a lot more like the man in that picture.   

It was like he was eating you up with his eyes with each bit of clothing you discarded on his floor. He hummed when you got to your white, daisy print ankle socks, and caught your wrist when you reached to pull them off. 

“Keep em’ on.”

Once brimming with vitality, his brown eyes turned lifeless, devoid of any flicker of emotion or human connection. You found yourself questioning whether you ever really knew him– the gentle, unassuming man you adored. If he even existed in the first place.

Left in nothing but your bra and panties you sat on your knees in front of him, unable to meet his eyes. Pink lace. You’d worn them on purpose, because your little dates were always a special occasion. You weren't planning on him seeing them. 

By the looks of it he seemed quite pleased with your choice. 

“All f’ me, babygirl?” His voice had dropped three octaves, almost slurred thanks to his smooth southern drawl. You swallowed thickly, and nodded your head. As much as you hated to admit it, he was, in some convoluted way, one hundred percent correct. 

Excitement defiantly swirled in your tummy as he let his hands roam your mostly bare body for a few seconds. Like he was examining and inspecting you. He lifted your limp arm to get a better look at your bare waist, then let it fall by your side and reached for the straps of your bra– loosening them to the point they were barely hanging on to your shoulders. 

The room began to spin a little faster when he gently pushed you back against the carpet, one palm planted firmly on your stomach to hold you there, the other hand folding your knees and planting your heels on the ground. The cup of your bra slipped off your chest, your breast now bare to the cool air. You felt exposed, for reasons less obvious than they really were. 

You heard the violent swish of the wind outside. It felt far and distant, and like it was right in that room, all at the same time. 

He began inspecting you again. It was odd, surely he liked the sight of your body, you could tell when you eyed the obvious bulge in his pants, but he was looking at you like you were some prop– like a little sex doll for his little photoshoot. He was moving you around as he pleased, positioning your limbs and tilting your head like an inanimate object. You didn’t fight back, let him take control of your body. It made your stomach churn, your core tingle. 

He nudged and then kneeled between your legs, fully clothed, looking at you methodically. You felt the cool air brush the wet spot that had formed on your panties as you gazed up at the ceiling, far too ashamed to meet his gaze. 

You watched him reach upwards towards his desk, and shift the lamp there till it was barely hanging on to the edge. The light hit you in the face, and forced your eyes shut till he turned it away and towards your chest. You tilted your chin to get a look at him, despite your better judgment. 

He hummed, swiping your dripping seam with his thumb, only stopping to eye you in warning when your body understandably jerked at the contact. The dark look in his eyes reminded you you weren’t really there for your own enjoyment, and more for his. It was like your natural movement was some sort of inconvenience to him, something that was hindering and interfering with his creative process. 

It was nauseating. But despite the fear that bubbled in your chest, you couldn’t deny the thrum of excitement that ran through your system when he began adjusting the settings on his camera. A part of you, a much bigger part of you than you'd like to admit, was enjoying the entire experience. 

“Look at that.” He chuckled, presumably at the way the fabric of your panties clung messily to your wetness in spite of your seemingly unwilling demeanor.  You felt a drop of sweat roll down between your breasts in anticipation. 

He teased your clit over your panties, switching between watching your face intently and finding the best angle. Leaning backwards and forwards. You knew better than to move around this time. “That boy doesn't know a thing about angles does he?” He was mumbling, excessively concentrated on properly composing his shot. 

“‘S’ okay sweetheart, we’ll fix it.” Hooking two fingers under the seam of your panties he pulled them aside, exposing your bare cunt to the chilly air. “Daddy’ll fix it.” He watched himself run his fingers through your wetness, and you watched him swallow thickly at the view. You chewed on your bottom lip, summoning all your restraint not to wiggle your hips in his direction. 

“Thought ‘bout this cute lil cunt all fuckin week.” 

Your disobedient mind encouraged the desire that pooled in your core, and you turned your head side to side to rid yourself of the disturbing thought. 

He must have noticed your strained expression, the way you were so clearly begging to be touched, but refused to admit it. Your creased brow was not one of intense pleasure, but anxiety, uncertainty and perpetual frustration. His shoulders dropped defeatedly, and he looked at you like he was about to unleash on you another set of debased instructions. 

“Gotta look like you’re enjoyin’ yourself more than that babygirl.” 

Caught slightly off guard, but admittedly thankful nonetheless, a breathy sigh escaped your lips as he began drawing soft circles on your aching clit. “That’s it babygirl” His praise licked between your legs, going straight to your core. Fingers wet with your slick he rubbed your throbbing pussy, and you let your head fall back against the carpet. 

“So fuckin’ wet f’ daddy.” 

Increasing his pace ever so slightly his fingers moved to tease your aching hole, just barely pushing in. You felt a moan bubble in your throat, forcing its way out of your mouth. It was more than embarrassing to admit you were enjoying his attention. 

“Let go babygirl. Daddy’s gonna make ya’ look so pretty in his pictures- like ya’ really are, like ya' deserve.”

He bit his lip to keep from smiling when he heard the soft moan slip past your lips. “That's better.” You didn’t know if he was more pleased with your pleasure, or the fact that you’d look better in the photographs.  

As your chest rose and fell with his movements you were more and more convinced. It was undoubtedly better to play along and give in. There was little point resisting by the time the thought even occurred to you. Admittedly, embarrassingly late. At least that's what you told yourself when you moaned and sighed below him. 

“Shit sweetheart. Wish you could see what ‘m seein’.” You imagined what Joel could see through the lens. It felt dirty, and contrite, but also exhilarating, and warm and right. 

You felt the tension build in your hips, between your legs. He had been resisting fucking you with his fingers, and your need to be filled was only increasing with each touch to your sensitive clit– your aching hole clenching around nothing. Your mind wandered to the way you’d undoubtedly seen his cock twitch in his jeans at the sight of you. How you’d been wishing secretly for him to fill you up. 

The coil in your belly tightened, and tightened, and you felt yourself reach the edge, the very peak of your pleasure. You made out a beam of white lightning through your half closed, lust clouded eyes. 

He brushed his thumb over your clit, ever so slightly. You were so so close, feeling the tension reach its highest point in a split second and then dissolve entirely. You gasped, back arching off the ground. 

In the deafening silence you heard the shutter and click of the camera. The sound was menacing. And it made your tummy flutter.  

“That's it baby, good girl” 

Your slick pooled at your entrance, running down your thighs and making you shift uncomfortably. You felt numb in your toes, something in you prompting you to kick your feet just a little. At the lost pleasure. The word was leaving your mouth before you could even register it. 

“Daddy” 

“I know, I know-” Fuck. He sounded so gentle. Like the Joel you knew. The Joel you loved.  “just a little longer sweetheart, you can take it.” He rubbed the inside of your thigh. 

He rested his camera on his knees and reached forward to cup your cheek, stroking your warm skin with his thumb. His fingertips were ice cold, and made you wince. “Just think of how pretty they're gonna turn out-” The look in his eyes was pleading, like you even had a choice in the matter. You wondered if he thought you did. Either way it seemed to work on you. “How pretty you��re gonna look.” 

“C’mon be a good girl f’ daddy.” His words made you mewl. Joel pinched your hip in warning, but kept his voice steady. 

“C’mere” Hitching both your legs on his shoulders and on either side of his head he scooted forward on his knees. Your skin tingled in anticipation, and you wondered what it would be like to have his head between your thighs. 

Admiring your white ankle socks he ran his thumb along the base of your foot, making your squirm in his hold. He engulfed its arch in his large palm, placing a kiss to your soul and then your ankle, moving forward to nuzzle your calf with his nose. 

“Goddamn, such a cute lil thing.” 

You watched him palm his bulge through his jeans, then undo his belt with his eyes still trained on your messy, wet pussy. As if he’d caught you staring he reached forward and tilted your chin back up towards the ceiling. Surely, you straining your neck to get a good look at him was doing nothing for his shot composition. 

You felt him let go of your shin in favor of guiding his cock along your throbbing seam. His tip bumped your clit, making you mewl and inadvertently lift your hips in his direction. You wished you could see him, on his knees in front of you, his cock teasing your dripping cunt. 

“Poor thing, can feel how bad ya’ need it.” Exhaling heavily he continued to rub his cock against your wet folds, eyes fixated below him. He cursed lowly under his breath, and lined himself up with your entrance, pushing in just a little. 

Your mouth fell open in a wordless cry at the slow stretch of him, and you attempted to grab fistfulls of the carpet beneath you. He’d barely put it in , but it was enough to send your eyes fluttering shut. 

“Cute lil pussy can barely take my cock, baby.” 

He fucked you, giving you just the tip, over and over and over, unwilling to burry himself in you to the hilt. You felt him twitch inside you, the slow pace and minimal contact enough to keep you both on edge, and not enough to provide any semblance of relief. 

You whined in protest. 

“Shh babygirl, I know.” He fucked you in slow shallow strokes, hips barely moving. You felt his eyes glued to your face, as if he was waiting for the perfect moment to snap his shot.

He thumbed your clit, his own breath quickening when your walls clamped around his cock. 

You’d never reach your peak this way, and it looked like he noticed. It seemed to be quite a large part of his artistic vision, and you were more than glad. 

He groaned and thrust himself to the hilt in a single slow push, picking up his pace just enough to where you could feel him hit that sensitive spot inside you. His cock throbbed against your aching walls, the drag of him sending your eyes rolling back into your head. His hands gripped your thighs, lips dragging across your calves every now and then as he fucked your warm, wet pussy– slow and deep. 

You felt full, unlike you ever had before. With the way he was making you feel it was difficult to think of who he was, and how he’d got you into this position. Neither your boyfriend’s existence, nor the reality of his intimidation took away from the soaring pleasure that made your body sing. 

It was all too much to bear, and you could feel your orgasm building in your core once again. 

The ominous sound of the wooden clocks garbled tic found its way back to your ears, this time in rhythm with your pounding heart. It sounded oddly comforting, like it was pushing you closer to the edge. 

“Daddy-” you reached for his hand, bringing his large palm to squeeze your breast. He obliged, his free hand moving from there to tug and pinch at any part of you exposed to him. 

“Daddy, gonna cum-” Joel sat back just a bit, still fucking into your soft cunt. “Cum ‘f daddy babygirl, fuck, that’s it.” It was all you needed, the tension that had been building in your core for what seemed like forever finally snapping. Your body went rigid, eyes screwing shut and back arching off the ground once again, legs tingling. Your walls fluttered around his cock as he slowed his pace, coaxing you through it. He hit that sweet spot inside you over and over, seemingly enjoying the many waves of your orgasm just as much as you. 

Between the ticking and Joel's labored breaths, and ringing in your ears you barely heard the click of the camera, but the soft sound sent a jolt through your body, like an electric aftershock. 

You took more than a moment to catch your breath, face tingling and head buzzing. 

When your eyes fluttered open you noticed Joel had abandoned his camera on the ground beside him in favor of grabbing your thighs. Still sensitive you shivered as he fucked into your pussy, fast and hard. You looked up at his face, twisted in pleasure, the little wrinkles on his skin accentuated thanks to his frown and furrowed brow. 

“So fuckin tight babygirl” You felt him pulse and throb inside you, emptying himself in a few final, sloppy thrusts. 

He looked so handsome, with his hair just slightly out of place, and flannel wrinkled and messy. The thought of being filled up by him had your tummy erupting with butterflies. 

Still catching his breath he reached for his camera, pulling out ever so slowly. With your legs still on his shoulders he tucked himself back into his jeans and fixed his belt, slowly easing himself on his stomach in front of you, and dropping your legs on either side of his head. 

You couldn’t see him, but you felt him chuckle against your bare thigh, his breath tickling your skin. “Show me how full ya’ are of me babygirl– how messy ya’ are f’ daddy”. You bit your lip as you pushed, and heard yet another click of the camera echo across the room. 

“Fuck. look so fuckin’ pretty, full’ve my cum” His spend leaked out of your fluttering entrance, and you felt him swipe his finger against the cut of your pussy and push anything that escaped right back in. He shifted your panties back in place, the material already dampening once again, this time with both your and his juices.

He sat up with his legs stretched out in front of him, back resting against the legs of his couch beside you. He pulled you to rest your head on his lap. You watched him intently as he reached beside him for the photographs. They must really be something, because mister Miller sure looked impressed with himself. 

When he turned to you you were probably met with his most wide and genuine smile yet, the three fresh new polaroids pinched between his thumb and index. You watched as the white light from outside invaded the room, and struck his face, illuminating it for a split second. The garbled tic of the wooden clock had subsided into the white noise of the background, along with the steady hum of the rain. You relaxed into his embrace. 

“Make the prettiest little model, don’t ya think sweetheart? Daddy’s gonna have to use ya’ more often” 

And no, I'm not a jerk

I would ask if you could help me out

It's hard to understand

'Cause when you're running by yourself

It's hard to find someone to hold your hand

You know it's good to be tough like me

But I will wait forever

I need someone else

To look into my eyes and tell me

"Girl, you know you've got to watch your health"

See you on a dark night

See you on a dark night

See you on a dark night

Going to hell for this one. Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs keep me writing. I also want to re iterate please be careful about who you send or let take explicit pictures of yourself. Never show your face and stay safe. Dividers by @ saradika and @cafekitsune 💗🐝🫶

[actuallysaiyan]

We Can Do Whatever You Want To Do(Ishida Uryu x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, handjob, talk about virginity, kissing, alcohol, semi-public sex, Uryu and Reader are in University word count: 1.3k pairings: Uryu Ishida x Fem!Reader summary: you and Uryu are in the same classes in university and you thought at first his arrogance and attitude pissed you off, but it turns you on. taglist: @beneathstarryskies. @seireiteihellbutterfly @misty-angerose. @yeowangies a/n: My first time writing Uryu, so I hope it's good <3

You met him when you were in your first year of university. Whispers of his academic excellence and many scholarships due to his achievements follow him around, though he doesn’t show any kind of real reaction to it. You found yourself so intrigued by Uryu.

After a few months of being in the same classes as him and trying to get to know him, you find out that he tends to keep to himself. And  Uryu doesn’t really bother to make too many friends. You’ve noticed some people coming to visit him from time to time, but the relationships he has with them seem deep rooted in something you can’t quite understand.

Even as time continues on, you find yourself way too curious about him. What kind of thing does he  do in his spare time? What kind of interests does he have outside of science and medicine? Did he have a love interest? Has he ever had a girlfriend?

Everything comes to a head when you and Uryu are at the same party. He’s keeping to himself in the corner, talking a little bit to a few people here and there that are in the same class as both of you. You take a drink from your beer and you head over to him.

“Hmm?” he barely acknowledges you, which makes you even more turned on.

“You’re Ishida-san, correct?” you ask him, your stomach doing flips.

He smirks at you, “Yes. Good to know you can recognize your classmates' names.”

That comment has your blood  boiling. How could he say something so rude to you like this? You roll your eyes and finish off your beer. Despite the way he acts, he holds himself with an air of someone who knows it all. Something about this suggests he’s not too lucky in the love and intimacy department. Meaning….he’s probably a virgin despite being in his early twenties.

The next time you meet up with him, it’s at the end of your class for the day. You make your way over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He turns around, towering over you and sports that same smirk as he always does.

“Yes? What is it?”

His tone is just driving you insane, “I was going to ask you to help explain something to me, but honestly if you just want to act like a self-centered jerk,, nevermind.”

Students are walking past you and him, making it seem like there’s just no care in the world for something like this. It’s like you and him aren’t even a part of this student body right now. There’s this tension that grows around the two of you. He takes your hand and pulls you just a little closer. Your heart flutters and your stomach does a flip. Why does he keep making you feel like this? He’s just an asshole classmate.

“Listen, if you really want my help, I’ll help. Just ask nicely.” His tone is authoritative and it makes you want to slap him.

“F-fine…can you help me with today’s lecture?”

He smirks again, “Of course. It was rather easy.”

The urge to push him off you and to just give up on your plan was strong. Yet you followed him into an empty classroom. He sits at the teacher’s desk, opening up his notebook. You close the door and without him noticing, you lock it as well.

Innocently as you can, you make your way up to him. When he looks at you, you flutter your eyelashes flirtatiously. He falters for  a moment,  freezing completely. He’s wondering why you’ve changed your attitude towards him completely, but he finds it endearing that you’re trying to be kinder to him.

What you don’t realize is that you’ve been invading his every thought since that night at the party. He loves the way you take his attitude with a grain of salt. He keeps up these walls for a reason, though he’s ready to tear  down some of his walls to show you his real self.

Suddenly, you’re backing him into the corner. His eyes widen beneath his glasses, his cheeks reddening at the way you’re so close to him. Your actions are so bold and brazen..

“Uryu,” you purr softly in his ear. “You’re a virgin aren’t you?”

His heart skips a beat, “H-huh?”

You laugh, “I know you heard me. Answer the damn question.”

His mouth gets dry as his brain short-circuits. Uryu thought he had really hidden that aspect of his life so well. How could you tell just by being in class with him and the few interactions here and there that he was a virgin? How were you so clever?

He’s about to answer when your lips come crashing down onto his. Your hand drags down his chest to his waist, then down below his belt. You squeeze softly the growing bulge. He moans against your lips. Slowly, you begin palming him through his jeans until he’s rock hard.

“Let me have a little fun, hm? I bet you’ve never even had a handjob before!”

Your words sting and hit him right in the heart. .It was true, he was a virgin and he had never  even kissed before. You were taking a lot of his firsts. He can barely believe his own eyes when you unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. His cock is throbbing and twitching. There’s a precum stain on his underwear now.

“Awhh look at that, you have to be  a virgin.” You tease him as you pull down his underwear.

His cock slaps against his lower abdomen as you release it from the cotton confines of his briefs. The thick precum smears against his button-up shirt. You smirk when you gently graze his cock with just your fingertips and he lets out a whimper.

“Oh you’re gonna blow your load so fast, aren’t you?” You taunt him.

He shakes his head, “N-no. Shut up!”

You wrap your fingers around the throbbing length. He’s shuddering as you begin to stroke him. You make sure to go slow. You aren’t convinced that he won’t just pop within seconds. 

“Look at you, trembling and shaking. What a pathetic little virgin you are,”

Your words are turning him on more than he’d like to admit. It’s making him angrier but also his cock keeps throbbing every time you call him a virgin. He’d love to lose his virginity, but he’s so wrapped up in his studies and academic career that he forgets to make meaningful relationships. He just thought he would end up having to marry someone first to lose his virginity.

“Shut up,” he spits at you. “At least—ahhh fuck— ‘least I’m not failing.”

You squeeze his cock a little harder, “I’m not failing. You really think I’m failing? Let me tell you something,”

You lean in closer, and you start to stroke him faster. Your other hand comes down to massage his balls and he knows he’s done for now. His eyes roll back in his head and his knees begin to buckle. It’s all too much.

“The only reason I asked for your help today was because I wanted to jerk off your cock. You got that?”

He can’t even reply. You’ve rendered him into a blubbering and whimpering mess. His glasses are all fogged up that he can barely make out the blur that’s your fist stroking his cock. You tug on his balls ever so gently and that’s all it takes for him to fall off the edge.

“Fuck! Fuck I—I’m cumming!”

His hips begin to buck up into your hand, spurts of thick cum beginning to coat your fist and the bottom of your shirt. You smirk as you help him through his high. Then you slow down your pace, but never stopping it.

“Listen to me,” you begin. “If you wanna fuck this pussy, you’re going to have to be a lot nicer to me. Got it?”

He nods his head, “Yes, yes…I’ll be nicer.”

And that’s how you ended up with Uryu’s balls in the palm of your hand.

[zepskies]

Miss Professor

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader

(Love triangle: Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

AN: Here’s the sequel to “Assistant Hottie.” Hope you enjoy!

Song Inspo: “Look at You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 5,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, love triangle, hurt/comfort, fluff and a tinge of spice.~

Jason finds you in the bowels of the university library.

Out of four giant floors of books and computer labs at Central Kansas A&M (CKM), they just had to put the Writing Center in the non-proverbial basement. There you have to wear at least two layers at all times, despite the late-spring swelter outside.

Like now, when he enters the Writing Center lobby and finds you at your desk, tapping your red pen on your lip as you work on revising an essay. Jason smiles at the sight of your fuzzy red and green sweater over your jeans and ankle boots.

“You know, Christmas came and went, like, five months ago,” he teases.

You glance up at him as he steals a chair from your coworker’s desk. She’s conveniently been on break…for two hours now. Leaving you with a mildly enormous stack of essays to edit and leave feedback on.

“Yeah well, I’m running out of winterwear. It’s almost summer, for God’s sake,” you grouse. And yet, you shiver when another pass of the AC vent above your head hits your back.

Jason smiles, but he also shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your frame. It’s lighter than what you’re wearing, but he hopes the added layer helps. You can’t help smiling up at him, though your brows end up furrowing.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’re gonna be freezing,” you protest. You try to take off the jacket, but Jason stops you by wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I don’t plan on being here that long,” he replies.

You raise a brow. “Oh really?”

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

His glinting green eyes soon dim, however, as he takes in the sheer amount of red marking up the pages of his essay. All 10 pages.

“Damn, woman. Was it that bad?” he asks.

“You’re actually getting better,” you say with a smile. “I’m seeing signs of improvement.”

Jason continues to flip through with a frown. “Right.”

Though when he actually starts reading your revisions, the familiar slopes of your handwriting, his disappointment begins to relent. You’ve made corrections here and there, but you’ve also written a lot of encouragements in the margins, like, “Good use of the word ‘solidarity.’”

And, “This whole paragraph perfectly explains your point. Just add a transition into the next section and you’re golden.”

Not to mention his personal favorite: correcting his typo on eggzagerate, and drawing a doodle of a fried egg above it. He doesn’t think you do that for all your customers. 

It makes him smile.

Though he looks up when he hears you yawn. You try to stifle it, but he can see clearly now that you’re tired. It’s almost 9 p.m.

“How long have you been working?” he asks.

“Since I got out of my last class at 5,” you admit. Finally, you spot your coworker coming back from her break (and she’s still on the phone, chatting away to her boyfriend).

“Have you even eaten dinner?” Jason asks.

You shake your head, with a pointed glare at your coworker. “No time. I’ve been chained to this place all night.”

The girl gives you a fake smile when she returns to her desk and grabs one of the thinnest essays from the pile. After shooting her one last narrowed look, you give Jason your full attention. He’s trying to temper his smirk.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm. “Let me treat you to the Central Kansas delicacy of Chicken Finger Friday.”

You laugh at that; the university food court leaves much to be desired. You still have plenty of work to do, but you’re willing to push it off until tomorrow and take him up on his offer, if it means a hot meal and spending some time with your friend. It’s been a few weeks since it’s been just the two of you, hanging out.

After grabbing your backpack and clocking out for the night, you and Jason walk together across campus. The evening air is warm. It begins to defrost you as you two venture down the sidewalk. You smile to yourself and playfully bump into his side.

Jason shoots you a grin and bumps you back, though he grabs your arm when the heel of your boot catches on the edge of the sidewalk. You both fumble a bit and laugh.

You tuck a wily strand of hair behind your ear. Part of you wants to ask what he’s doing this weekend. Maybe he’d want to go to the lake with you, hang out on the dock, or go for a swim…

But of course, that’s when his phone buzzes. He fishes it out of his pocket and his brows raise. The text is from Lana, asking him if he can come to the Talon.

I really need your help with something.

Jason lets out a breath and looks up at you apologetically.

You know that look.

“Your girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jason nods. “I hate to do this to you, but we’ve both been so busy, I haven’t seen her all week.”

And this is the first time this week that Lana has reached out to him first, wanting to see him… Well, she’s also asking for a favor, but she wants to see him.

“You know, one of these days I’d love to meet this mysterious girl,” you remark, lightly shoving his arm.

Jason smiles, but inside he’s clamming up. For obvious reasons, he hasn’t told you that he’s dating Lana Lang. Though it doesn’t make it easy to keep it from you, to lie to you. Over the course of the school year, you’ve become one of his closest friends here in Smallville.

You encourage him to explore his interests and keep focused in school, and you’ve often been a listening ear whenever juggling his classes and helping to coach the Smallville High football team stress him out.

And he’s done the same for you. With your time split between being a teacher's aid at Smallville High and working in the Writing Center to make ends meet between classes, you've done your share of venting, sometimes through frustrated tears. Jason's been more than willing to provide a strong shoulder to lean on.

Now, you don’t know that dating Lana is part of his stress, but he just…can’t afford to tell you.

It doesn’t matter that Lana’s 18, and he met her months before he took this coaching job. This is a small town, and he knows how people will talk if word gets out that he’s dating a high school senior. Not to mention, he’d get very fired.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you. “This seems important.”

Again, you have to hide your disappointment when you smile at him. “It’s okay. I should probably get back to work anyway—”

“Uh-uh. No,” Jason says, grabbing your arm when you start to turn in the direction of the Writing Center. "You’re done for the night. I wanna see you marching full-speed for those dry-ass chicken tenders.”

He nods toward the campus food court, making you expel a sigh.

“If I must,” you lament.

“And you’d better not keep working on your laptop,” he warns. “If you so much as crack open that Mac, I’ll know.”

He levels a finger at you as he walks away. You roll your eyes and head to the food court, with the promise of food just beyond the glass doors. 

After a moment, you chance looking back at Jason. He catches your gaze, and he points two fingers from his eyes to your face in stern warning. 

You giggle and shake your head at him, but you keep walking toward the food court. 

Jason smirks in satisfaction. He continues on to the parking lot, and to his car.

When Jason gets to the Talon, he crosses paths with Clark, who’s just walking out. 

“Hey, man,” Jason greets, with a jovial pat on the younger man’s shoulder. Though he can’t help but wonder why the guy is here at this time of night. “Little late for a coffee fix, huh?”

“Hey, Coach T,” Clark smiles. “Could say the same about you.”

Jason blinks at that. He cards a hand through his short hair and laughs it off. “Yeah, I was in the mood for a slice of your mom’s coffee cake. Any left?”

Martha Kent supplied the Talon with its baked goods, and they were most certainly worth driving across town for. It’s a pretty good excuse, if he says so himself.

Clark nods. “Yeah, should be.”

“All right. G'night,” Jason says. Clark nods and waves goodbye before he heads to his red truck in the parking lot. 

Jason shakes his head and steps into the coffee shop, where he finds Lana alone. She’s cleaning up a large takeout bag from Gino’s, the Italian restaurant across the street. He silently takes note of it, but doesn’t yet comment when he kisses his girlfriend in greeting.

“Why’d you send up the Bat Signal on this fine Friday night?” he asks, wrapping her in his arms.

Lana smiles up at him. “Well, I’m probably going to be slammed all weekend with the shop, but I’ve got this huge speech for class on Monday and was hoping you’d help me practice.”

She pulls those doe-like hazel eyes on him, and Jason’s almost captured by them. This time, he lets out a small sigh.

“You know I’m always down to help you out. Always. But you know, we haven’t just hung out in a while now,” he points out.

Lana concedes to that with an incline of her head, but she still eases out of his arms to finish cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy,” she says.

“I have too,” Jason replies. “But even with my crazy schedule, going back and forth from campus, don't I still make time for you?”

Case in point, he was willing to come out to her on the drop of a hat, late at night, and on the crunch week before his final exams. But he would be hard-pressed to remember a time when Lana went out of her way to see him.

Lana pauses, casting him a frown. "I'm trying my best, Jason. You know I'm graduating in a few weeks. Everything's ramped up to 11 this year."

Yeah, I know the feeling, Jason thinks, but after a moment, he caves with a nod, even though his gaze lingers on the Gino's bag.

“Have you eaten?” he tests. “Let me get us some takeout.”

He almost said, Let me take you out, somewhere nice. But he hadn’t been able to do that since before he got to Smallville. He’s beginning to wonder if he ever will again.

“Oh,” Lana says. Her eyes avert from his as she wipes down a table. “I already ate.”

Jason draws closer to her and dips his chin in order to catch her gaze. Eventually, she pauses and glances up at him.

“With Clark?” he asks.

Lana tightens up, just as he predicted. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw him when I came in,” Jason replies. He tilts his head at Lana, who never used to be a good liar. But ever since they had to start hiding their relationship, he’s noticed how good she also hides her thoughts and feelings around other people…maybe even to herself.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “He was here. But we were studying for finals, and we got hungry. That’s it.”

Jason shakes his head, but she grabs his hand with both of hers. He looks down at her tan, slender hands, and can’t help but be drawn back to her beautiful face.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, as if that can dismiss the churning in his gut.

“Listen,” he says, rubbing at his face. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I’m sorry but…do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” she refutes, “I’m with you, Jason. How many times do I have to prove that this is what I want?”

She seems so annoyed and vehement that Jason has to believe her. He wants to, so badly.

Maybe too much.

The last straw comes just two weeks before the end of spring semester—with the coming of senior prom. Jason knows he can’t ask Lana, but she assured him that she wasn’t going. 

He has a late class that night, but afterwards, he promised to pick her up and get dinner together in Metropolis. A nice date, a long-ass way out of town, so they’re unlikely to be recognized.

On the Friday evening, just hours before a high school dance, you and Jason sit together in the one class you have together: Introduction to Mass Media. 

It only meets once a week, for three hours. Technically it’s an elective for both of you, but you’d told Jason to pick any class outside of his major that he was interested in. Anything to broaden his horizons, and you promised to join him. For some reason, he chose this one. 

He thought it would be easy. Just a study of pop. culture stuff, with a mix of social media, maybe a dash of sports, if he was lucky. He’d actually been surprised with how much he was enjoying the segments on videography and broadcast journalism. 

Right now, however, he's distracted. You can certainly tell, the way he keeps checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you lean over and ask in a whisper. He knows how anal Professor Jones is about cell phones in class. The man had a “contraband bucket” to collect them in, if he caught a student using one.

“Just letting my girlfriend know I’m gonna be a bit late,” Jason grumbles, though he’s looking at the screen. “Jones is droning on past the eternity mark, as usual.”

A man clears his throat above you and Jason. You both look up and meet the flat gaze of Professor Jones. He shakes the bucket in his hand with an arched brow. Already there's about three contraband phones inside.

Jason gives a wan smile. “Come on, Professor. We were supposed to be outta here 20 minutes ago anyway.”

The lines in Professor Jones’s face betrays one simple truth: he doesn’t give a shit.

“Bucket, Mr. Teague,” he says.

Jason’s lips press in irritation, but he’s forced to drop his phone into the waiting bucket. He doesn’t see two mixed text messages from his girlfriend.

You lay a comforting hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

By the time Jason gets to the Talon, the lights are dark and Lana’s not home. Suspicion creeps in, making him feel a little crazy. 

He decides to get back into his car and drive down to Smallville High. There the gym is decked out to the nines in some kind of underwater theme. It reminds him of his own senior prom a couple of years ago, complete with the punch bowl and cheesy snacks. 

But soon enough, the nostalgia comes to a screeching halt.

A familiar ballad croons from the band on the stage.

"And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? ...Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"

He sees Lana on the dance floor, wearing one of the most beautiful dresses he’s ever seen. And she’s in the arms of one Clark Kent. 

Jason's never hated Lifehouse so much.

On Saturday morning, before the Talon even opens, Lana opens the door to Jason while still wearing her robe.

“Hey!” she says, with wide eyes, though she lets him in.

“You seem real surprised,” Jason notes.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s early for you on a Saturday,” Lana remarks with a short laugh. But she still leans up to kiss him. She only manages to get his cheek, since he doesn’t bend down to meet her like he usually would.

She frowns. “Is something wrong?”

Jason doesn’t answer at first. The words are stuck in his throat. He gestures for them to move away from the glass doors, where anyone can peek in. So they travel up to her bedroom and close the door.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, though not much has ever happened on her bed. He’s waited completely on her signals for that one. Though now, he’s actually kind of grateful that their relationship has never progressed that far. It makes what he’s about to do easier.

“Where were you last night?” he asks. He figures they’d better start there.

“I tried calling you,” he adds, when Lana doesn’t immediately offer a reply.

“Well, I didn’t hear from you. I figured you were busy with your classes, so…I went to prom by myself,” she says.

Jason sighs. “You didn’t seem all that lonely.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

Her confusion looks so real. A perfect face, and a damn near perfect lie.

“Look, I saw you and Clark on that dance floor,” Jason finally says. “Wasn't that just the perfect Hallmark moment?”

“Jason…” Lana finally starts to break. She doesn’t want to admit what’s broken, her gaze falling to the floor.

“No, let me say this,” he says. “Lana, I really put my all into this. I did whatever I could to be with you. To love you, to protect you. But in your heart, I think somewhere down the line you decided you don’t want that to be me.”

Lana’s eyes flood with tears, but she doesn’t deny it. 

“I think it’s time to really call it quits this time,” Jason says, “for both our sakes.”

He can’t help but reach out to her. His thumb brushes her cheek. Lana’s watery gaze meets his as her lower lip wobbles. She grabs his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she confesses.

He won’t say it’s okay, but he accepts that with a nod, and he kisses her cheek. 

It’s a goodbye that’s meant to last.

Once he’s back in the relative safety of his car, Jason lets out a deep breath. He grabs his phone from his pocket on some unspoken urge; in that moment, he needs something. Someone.

He needs you.

You answer on the third ring, sounding sleepy on your day off.

“You’d better be on fire,” you say. Jason smiles at the sound of your grumpy voice.

“Hey,” he laughs a little, though he's surprised that it comes so easily. “You doing anything right now?”

“Besides sleeping?” you toss back. “…No. Not really. My life is boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right about now,” Jason says, more seriously than he meant to. “Wanna take a drive or something?”

You hesitate, just for a moment. Then your voice greets him again.

“Let’s go.”

When Jason arrives at your house, you come out to meet him. He gets out of his car, and already he looks wrong. He looks drained of all energy.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern, grabbing his arm when you’re close enough. His eyes find yours.

“We broke up,” he says.

It takes your brain a second or two to compute. (You’ve just finished your first cup of coffee, after all.) But then, you’re moving to wrap your arms around his neck in the tightest, warmest hug you can give.

He holds you back for a while, and you relish in the feeling of his hands smoothing around your back and pulling you in close. His chin tucks on your shoulder, and you rub his back.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He hums in response. Sometimes, what is just is.

He lets you drive him out to the lake near your house, in your beat up Volvo. This lake is your favorite place in the world, you tell him, as you two sit side-by-side on the dock. Your sneaker-clad feet dangle over the edge, next to his longer legs.

“So far,” he corrects. “There’s a whole lot of world out there.”

You smile. “Yeah, you gonna show me? Got a magic carpet tucked in your dorm somewhere?”

Jason laughs, and you’re grateful to see his smile so soon.

“Yeah, along with a dusty-ass lamp,” he says.

You smile, but you tilt your head at him. “Are you okay?”

Jason’s grin slips a little. “Yeah, I think so…is that bad?”

You bite your lip. “Depends. What was her name? I don’t think you even told me.”

Jason turns to you, and he sighs deeply. It takes him a moment, but he eventually answers while looking you in the eyes.

“Lana Lang,” he says.

The name rings a bell…and as it comes to you, it blares like a foghorn. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

“J-Jason…she’s a student,” you stammer. “Not like, us students. Like—”

“I know. We met before I got the coaching job,” Jason explains quickly, before you can blow up at him. 

He can see you’re freaking out, trying to contain your reaction with a hand over your mouth. But the more he explains, the more you withdraw into a simmering silence. He can tell, however, that you don’t know how to feel about it. 

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

It’s not the first thing he thought you would say, but it’s very you all the same.

“Well, being outmaneuvered by my own quarterback stings like a bitch, but I still think I’m better looking,” Jason jokes. Because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable.

Too bad that was the wrong answer.

You roll your eyes with a disgusted huff, and you pull yourself up onto your feet. You start to leave him there at the dock, but Jason hops up as well and grabs your hand.

“Hey, wait,” he implores. “Look, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just…easier.”

“Why, because you didn’t trust me?” you challenge. “Or because you felt guilty about what you were doing?”

The truth is, Jason doesn’t feel guilty. Not for his relationship.

“I was trying to protect her reputation,” he says. “I know how smalltown people think. She’d be the talk of the damn town. And for what? Because we’re two years apart?”

“And I’m smalltown, is that it? I’m sorry I’m not as evolved as you, Mr. Metropolis,” you snark. “Forgive me for being a lowly country bumpkin with some morals.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jason says with an angry frown, throwing up his hands in frustration.

You shake your head at him and start booking it towards your car.

Jason follows. “You know you can’t leave me out here, right?”

“Just get in the car, before I change my mind!”

He obliges you, and it’s a painful ride back to your house. He really can’t believe you’re being like this. It’s the first real argument he’s ever had with you. He knew you might get upset, but he did think you’d be a little more understanding…

“Look, we met in Paris last summer,” he admits. And a hint more vulnerable, “I just…couldn’t help but fall for her.”

“I get it, Jason,” you reply. Your voice is flat. 

“Just please don’t tell anyone,” he asks. “We’re done. She’s about to graduate.”

As mad as you are at him for lying to you, you begrudgingly see his point. You can also start to understand why he didn’t tell you. 

But, regardless of how you feel, you don’t want him to lose his job. You know it’s the only way he can afford college.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you say, before you can reign yourself in.

Jason turns to you with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

It’s still awkward when you two get to your house. He turns to you, like he wants to say something that’ll most likely soften you. 

You’re not ready for that. 

So you kill the engine and get out of the car without looking at him. Jason takes the hint; he doesn’t say another word to you when he gets into his car and peels away.

The next weeks that follow are hard for Jason. As a member of the staff, he’s forced to go to Smallville High’s graduating ceremony.

He watches Clark and Lana graduate together with the rest of their friends. The two of them hug after she gets off stage, looking at one another with a moment of blushing smiles. It’s an inevitable look.

It makes Jason feel sick. He leaves as soon as he can, going back to languish in his dorm room. He lays on his bed over the covers with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.

He thinks about you. 

He can see you in his mind’s eye, with a pen balanced between your teeth and your hair falling over to brush the pages you pour over.

He sees your fuzzy green sweater. Your smile. The shade of your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your furrowed look when you’re concentrating hard on revising a sentence.

The more he sees, the more he wants to call you. To hear your voice, even if you're just going to yell at him. 

Jason sighs. He sits up in bed and has a thought that soon takes hold of his body, and has him swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and pulling his backpack closer.

He pulls out a folder for one of his classes and finds an essay you revised. His eyes scan over the encouragements you’ve left in the margins, along with the stray doodles. They still make him smile.

And it reminds him of the first note you ever gave him, which he keeps tucked in a small drawer in his desk. He tosses the folder onto his bed and goes to that drawer, where he finds your hastily written haiku.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

You don’t know that those words have kept his head above water in times where he’s wanted to quit school.

Or even worse, in those times when he’s wanted to go to his father, tail between his legs, to ask for money and a job doing anything easy.

So now, Jason realizes that he needs to make another decision.

He gets out of bed, and he goes to see you.

Jason travels down to the basement of the CKM library, to the Writing Center, where you’re sitting at your desk as always on a Thursday night. You have a pile of essays stacked high next to you, and your forehead is wrinkled while you read a problematic passage.

The smell of coffee makes you look up first, before you realize who brought it. Your eyes widen at seeing Jason, along with his small smile and peace offering.

“Hey,” he says.

His voice washes over you, his eyes that always manage to disarm you, even now.

Despite your better judgment, you take the coffee from him and revel at its warmth. It has to be 60 degrees in this damn room (you’re one step shy of bringing your winter gloves next time).

You sip at the coffee and hum in delight at the taste of caramel and cinnamon—a combination that only your family, and Jason, would know you loved.

Your gaze flits up to his, more begrudging as you sigh.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Teague?” you ask.

Jason grins and takes your coworker’s empty chair to sit across from you.

“I’ve got a little haiku for you,” he says, handing you a folded piece of paper. You eye him in confusion, but you set down the coffee on your desk and take his second offering. You unfold it and read something that genuinely takes you by surprise.

Hey, Miss Professor

I’ve got a question for you…

Want to get dinner?

You can’t help but laugh. It’s most definitely not a haiku, but you also know that it’s his best shot. His smile is sheepish, making yours deepen. 

“So, what’s your answer?” he asks. 

You glance down at the page, then back at him. You bite your lip, and your heart clenches. Is this it? you wonder. Is he asking you out, for real? You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking. 

“What kind of dinner?” you ask.

Jason’s grin fades. “What do you mean?”

“Is this our normal kind, where we roll out like we’re Thelma and Louise?” you ask, making him snort. “Or is this the kind where I need to change out of my dirty sneakers and brush my hair?”

He shrugs; his amused grin is back. “I mean, however I get you is all right by me.”

You nearly utter another sigh, but Jason surprises you yet again—by grabbing your hand. 

“But, uh…I’d like this to be the kind of dinner where we try something new,” he says, licking his dry lips. He looks a bit uncertain, you think, hiding the fear of rejection. “Maybe you’ll let me do my Cary Grant impression and get you some flowers. Box of chocolates.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Chocolates?”

“Whatever it takes,” he says. His tone is joking, but he seems serious. You know him well enough by now to spot the difference.

“Whatever it takes, huh?” you ask.

Jason’s hand tightens on yours, but his eyes never leave you. He really is serious, and it makes your heart stutter and trill with warmth. It feels a lot like hope.

He leans in, his head bowing towards yours…but you lay a hand against his chest.

It stops him, until your fingers curl into his shirt.

Your gaze slowly meets his.

When he reaches for your cheek, this time you let him pull you in. 

His kiss is sudden, but it’s still a gentle test. You take in a deep breath through your nose as your eyes fall closed. You press your lips against his, answering him. His fingers slide into your hair and drag down the back of your neck. It makes you shudder and tug him even closer by his shirt. 

Jason’s solution is gathering you into his lap, where you take his face with both hands and kiss him with unfettered passion. The locked doors of your heart are swinging open, and it’s a sweet relief to be honest with each swipe of your tongue against his. 

He’s gripping your hip, his fingers pressing into your thigh, while the other hand supports your lower back and presses you flush against him. As the kiss slows, so does your hand in his hair, more soothing now than gripping. 

When your lips eventually draw apart from his, it’s with panting breaths. You stare into his eyes, as yours brim with relieved tears. You touch his cheek.

“I better not be a rebound,” you warn him. “I can’t take that, Jase.”

Jason shakes his head, holding you a fraction tighter. “No, believe me. That's the last thing you are."

You bite your lip, and he encourages you to release it with his thumb brushing across your lower lip. You've been on his mind longer than he can readily admit. Since the first day he met you.

"I know I haven't made it easy, but will you trust me on this?” he asks. "I really wanna do this right with you."

It takes you a moment to decide, but you do. You trust him.

So you nod and brush your fingers along the apple of his cheek. 

“Okay,” you concede. "Let's do this."

Jason grins. “Oh, thank God.”

You giggle softly and hide your face in his neck. His chest shakes with a chuckle as he holds you back. It feels very right to hold you, he thinks.

Just as it's a relief for you to finally be in his arms.

“Where d’you wanna go for dinner?” he asks.

You laugh, a bit giddy as you cling to him and thread your fingers in his golden hair.  

“I don’t give a damn.”

AN: Haha, I hope you liked this! ❤️ These one-shots are kind of AU, in that I don't get into the Stones of Power arc of S4 just for simplicity's sake.

I do have one more one-shot idea rolling around in my head for these two...the reader meeting Jason's infamous mother lol (Genevieve Teague, played by the fabulous Jane Seymour)!

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[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

cupcake bet

pairing: Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

word count: 8239

warnings: angst (kinda), fluff, smut, established relationship, big dick daddy dom joon, oral sex (blow jobs), face-fucking, explicit language, edgeplay, deep throating, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, rough sex, spanking, doggy style, manhandling, degradation

AO3

A/N: Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

You and Namjoon had been dating for a couple of months and have done pretty much all of the typical relationship things.

Unfortunately, the relationship seemed to have become lifeless as of recently.

Due to no fault of either but because university life was kicking both of your asses and it was making it hard for the both of you to concentrate on anything other than studying, not being helped by the fact that you lived in a dorm room with a roommate, Yuna, while he lived off-campus with his friends, the majority of your conversations were reserved for simple texts as of recent.

Not wanting your relationship to turn into a shell of its former self, one night, while you were taking a much-needed break, you texted your boyfriend about how much you missed him and that you wanted to spend the next day with him without university looming over your shoulders.

Namjoon had taken so long to reply that you grew guilty over the fact that you were intruding on his busy life, but to your surprise, he agreed.

You planned on meeting after both of classes were over in your dorm room, which was perfect for you since you only have two two-hour classes in the early morning while your boyfriend had until three pm, which gave you more than enough time to take a nap and get ready before he showed up.

At least, that was your plan anyway.

Who knew that long barely sleepless nights, a decent and not rushed lunch, and not having anything to do would make you crash in your bed and sleep for almost four hours.

It would've been longer if it wasn't for Namjoon waking you up, by bumping his leg against your desk and letting many of your things fall on the floor.

You simply stared at him, deadpanned while he had an awkward smile, after all, you had gotten so used to Namjoon's clumsiness that you were only shocked when it didn't happen.

"Hey baby," he said, pressing a peck on your lips. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you said with a yawn and rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes. "Wait! How long was I out? Oh my god is it too late to go? You didn't have anything planned did you? Oh my god, I'm so sorry that I -"

"Baby, baby, baby, relax, it's fine," he said, taking your hand in his right hand and running his fingers through your hair with his left, calming you down.

Maybe the past couple of days really did a number on you.

"It's almost four, there's more than enough time for a date," he pulled away from you and leaned against your desk. "And no, I didn't plan anything. I didn't have anything specific in mind so I thought we would choose together."

You nodded as you sat in your bed. "Alright, any suggestions?"

"I don't know," Namjoon crossed his arms over his chest. "We could have a movie marathon, or go on a hike, or just take a walk on the beach."

"My brain's still catching up, no hiking," you said with a pout and running your fingers down his arm.

Namjoon stared into your eyes as his tongue passed over his lower lip, his eyes darkening with intent. "Do you know what time Yuna's supposed to be back?"

You knew that look like the back of your hand, you had been on the receiving end of it plenty of times, and it had been a long time since the two of you have been together like that.

"No, I don't know," you pretended to be clueless while playing with the hem of your shirt. "But I think she'll be gone for a while," you gave him a once-over before settling on his dragon eyes. "Why? Do you have something in mind?"

His hand brushed your knee before slowly and temptingly moving up your thigh, stopping at your clothed center before running down your thigh, something he kept doing again and again. You didn't stop him, his touch was sending a shiver down your spine, like electricity was filling your body.

"Nothing in particular. It's just that -"

"It's been a while," you interrupted breathlessly.

Namjoon gave you his fan-favorite dimple smile before being replaced by his smirk. "I can't get it out of my head, and there's only so much my hand can do before I start missing your wet cunt, wrapped nice and tight around my cock," you let out a whimper at his words.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Namjoon leaned down, brushing his lips against yours, your heart beating rapidly.

"Hey Y/N! You awake yet?" Yuna walked through the door, causing you and your boyfriend to separate in a flash and your roommate to look like a deer in the headlights at what she had stumbled upon. "Did I interrupt something? Cause I can leave and come back later."

"N-no it's - it's fine," you said playing with the hem of your shirt again, refusing to look at Yuna until the feeling of embarrassment passed, out of the corner of your eye you saw that your boyfriend's shoes were taking his sole attention.

"Right," she dragged the word as she settled her bag on her bed. "Well, whatever it was, I'll be out of your hair in an instant," she moved towards the bathroom, closing the door behind her. "Just came to change my clothes."

Despite being left alone once again, you and Namjoon didn't talk, preferring to wait until Yuna left the room before continuing your conversation.

You looked around the room as you waited, your eyes falling on a box on top of Yuna's bed, a box you easily recognized due to how many times your roommate tended to buy from there. "Can I take one of the cupcakes?"

"Sure, there's coffee too" she yelled through the other side of the door.

You were up before she finished, silently asking your boyfriend if he wanted one, which he declined with a smile on his lips, choosing instead to do whatever on his phone. "Sugar has always been your weak spot,"

You stick out your tongue at him before turning back to the cupcake box, opening it, and taking one with buttercream frosting sprayed with multicolored sprinkles, pulling out a flyer for the shop in the process so you'd have to look at while eating, then you grabbed one of the coffee cups and returned to your bed.

In true you fashion, you eat all the frosting first before starting with the cake, taking gulps of coffee in between.

"I can't believe you finished all the frosting," Namjoon said teasingly.

"It's the best part," you pretended to be offended. "And the cake is really good! I eat one and then I eat the other."

"You're supposed to eat a bit of the frosting and a bit of the cake with each bite,"

"Who are you, the cupcake police?" you throw the coffee cup into the bin next to your desk before staring at your boyfriend with mock defiance.

"Ha-ha-ha, very funny," he said rolling his eyes. "But no, it's just better that way. It's a question of balance," he went on smartly. "The cake can be too dry and the frosting alone is too sweet."

"Too sweet? This coming from the man who said that when the world ends we need cotton candy makers?" you had to fight the urge to keep the shit-eating grin off your face at his flushed reaction. "My way works for people with small mouths, you know? Not everyone is privileged enough to be born with everything big like you."

You saw Namjoon's eyes darken for a quick second before Yuna walked out of the bathroom. "Please don't talk about things like that while I'm still around,"

You decided to focus on finishing eating the cupcake, refusing to look at your roommate, while your boyfriend tried not to laugh, taking the flyer from your hand and giving it a look.

The room fell into silence for five minutes until Yuna left the room.

"Apparently the Cafe is hosting a workshop on how to learn to make cupcakes in about an hour,"

"Perfect! We're going to be able to put your great cupcake science to good use!" you cleaned the crumbs off your lap, stood up from your bed, and walked towards your closet, wanting to change your clothes. "You'll be able to tell them that their cupcakes are too dry."

Namjoon snorted. "I didn't say they were too dry," he crossed his arms over his chest. "I said that without the frosting…" you looked at him with a frown and a pout, resulting in your boyfriend raising his arms in surrender, dropping the subject with a smile on his lips. "Is that what you want do to as a date?"

"Yeah, I think it'd be fun and new," you said with a shrug and stepped close to him. "Unless you have any other ideas?"

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and giving the top of your head a peck. "I think it'd be fun. Also, I'm in a mood for cupcakes,"

You couldn't resist teasing him. "You sure? Jin said you're not allowed in a kitchen without any adult supervision,"

In response Namjoon simply gave a smack on your ass, causing you to jump slightly and let out a gasp. "Go change, I'll call and make sure there are still spots left."

You walked to your closet, pulled out a dress, and went to the bathroom.

Your dress wasn't flashy or anything, you actually considered it to be quite simple. However, it hug your physique amazingly well, with special attention on your assets, sleeveless, showing a little bit of cleavage, and finishing just a little bit below your bottom.

It was most definitely not a dress for simply going to a cupcake workshop, but you wanted to tease your boyfriend, just a little bit, a taste of what he could get if he wanted to continue what Yuna interrupted.

Taking one last look in the mirror, you stepped out of the bathroom.

Your dress had the reaction you were looking for, with Namjoon's eyes going wide as he looked at you up and down.

Feeling smug, you gave a little twirl, allowing him to observe you from every angle, especially giving him a really good look at your backside, while trying to fight off the smirk on your lips. "How do I look?"

"That's…," he cleared his throat. "It looks good on you. Excellent choice." his voice was a bit strained.

Adorable, you thought to yourself as you walked passed him and towards the door, opening it for him. "Coming?"

Without any words, Namjoon walked past you and you were quick to follow, closing the door behind you. As the both of you walked in silence, you slid your arm through your boyfriend's. He didn't say anything, he simply smiled.

Luckily for you, the walking distance between the campus and the cafe wasn't long, so it didn't take you more than thirty minutes to arrive.

Once inside, the first thing you noticed was that there weren't many people around, and you couldn't tell if they were there for the workshop and just making time until the hour hit, or if they were just regular paying customers.

"Hi! My name is Woojin!" your attention was pulled to the guy who showed up in front of you, without you even noticing. He seemed to be about your age, and from his get-up, clearly an employee. "Did you call to book the cupcake workshop?"

"Yeah! We found the flyer and thought it would be fun," you gave him your friendliest smile, while Namjoon kept quiet, from the corner of your eye you saw him eyeing Woojin up and down. "Your cupcakes are really delicious, so we're taking this as an opportunity to learn."

"Oh, thanks. That's nice of you to say," you saw the employee's cheeks flushing at the compliment. And if your boyfriend standing up straighter was anything to go by, he noticed it too. But Woojin was quick to recompense himself. "Well, I hope that at the end of the workshop, you'll be able to make ones that are almost as good. Of course, we'll still going to keep a few manufacturing secrets," he said, winking at you. "We need to keep selling after all."

"Of course," you said with a small giggle. "In that case, I'd be very surprised if we made them so well on the first try."

"Still, cupcakes shouldn't be that hard to make, right?" Namjoon finally decided to say something, clearly not happy with the obvious flirting coming from the employee.

"Even if my friend thinks he's very good with his hands," you said very smugly, but from the moment of silence that followed afterward, you knew both men had caught the double meaning of your words.

Your boyfriend cleared his throat. "It's… a joke between us. Ignore her," you smirked at him but Namjoon simply rolled his eyes.

Before you could say anything else, a woman, who seemed to be either in her late thirties or early forties, came out of the back room. She had dyed blonde hair and, a shirt and skirt clinging to her figure so tightly that you wondered how she managed to get in them. Hell, she was showing so much cleavage that you, making you wonder why she even bothered wearing a shirt in the first place.

"Ah! Someone finally came. Fantastic!" she emphasized the last word as her gaze ran over your boyfriend. You couldn't help the frown showing on your face. "My name is Saebom and I'm the owner of this establishment," she didn't take her off of Namjoon as she spoke in a sweet sultry voice."And you are?"

"I'm Namjoon, and I came with Y/N,"

The owner flashed him a greedy smile, never taking her eyes off him. "Come with me! We're going to set up in the kitchen," she went back inside through the door she had come out, with Woojin right behind her.

"Someone has a crush on you," you whispered in a sing-song way.

"Was about to say the same," he said in a very disinteresting way.

"He was just being nice," you said, swinging your head from side to side with every word. "It was just some harmless flirting between employee and customer, nothing more," you shrugged. "You know, like the one Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook do every time they wanna get free drinks."

"Did you forget that they tend to take the bartender home? Or the bathroom,"

"My point is, is that it meant nothing," he simply let out a ' hmph ' at your words. "Someone's jealous."

Namjoon snorted. "Oh please, you think I didn't see the way you were looking at her," you pouted. "The stank eye you were giving said more than words ever could."

"I just felt it was rude of her to ignore the other people in the room," you said matter-of-factly.

He didn't buy it but decided to drop the subject. "Tell me, I'm thinking of spicing things up a bit," The glint in his eyes told you something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

But it did intrigue you. "I'm listening,"

"How about a small bet? On which one of us can make the most beautiful cupcake?"

You raised a brow at him. "And the stakes?"

"The same as usual, the winner dares the other to do something," with the smile he was giving you, you didn't lack any imagination on what kind of dares he was thinking of.

Bets were a usual occurrence in the BTS household, one you were easily pulled into when you and Namjoon first started dating. Surprisingly enough, this was the first time a bet between the two of you had ever gone in this direction.

And you were loving it.

You slid your index finger down his chest while biting your bottom lip. "I almost wanna let you win, just to see what you're thinking of,"

His smile widened even more, giving you a good look of his dimples. "We can cancel if you want -"

"I said almost," you interrupted. "I have every intention to win."

"At least I tried," he pulled you closer, giving you a peck on the head before letting go and walking through the kitchen door. "Come on, they're waiting for us."

You followed behind and entered the kitchen, finding Woojin and Saebom standing side by side behind a metal counter.

"While I get everything ready, please get settled. Namjoon, stand there, right across from me," she guided him behind her table, feeling up his arm the entire time. On his part, Namjoon seemed slightly taken aback by the sudden contact.

You tried not to laugh, but your shaking shoulders betrayed you. Since Saebom hadn't said anything to you, you settled across from Woojin.

"Just a moment, we're going to take out all the necessary ingredients and utensils," she walked away, followed by her employee.

"I'm scared," your boyfriend whispered as he leaned closer to you.

"Really? Why?" you on the other hand spoke at a natural volume.

"Did you see the way she looked at me?" he looked at you in pure amusement. "I'm afraid she'll think I'm her snack-time cupcake."

"Hahaha," you covered your mouth with your hand. "I thought you liked female attention."

"I have my limits," he said exasperated, which made you snort. But Namjoon quickly composed himself and gave you a smirk. "Just promise me you won't have a fit of jealousy, okay?"

"You think too highly of yourself," you played with your nails, pretending his words didn't have some sort of effect on you.

Unfortunately for you, Namjoon could see right through you, so he simply gave you a peck on the cheek. "You have nothing to worry about, your attention is all I want,"

Before you had a chance to reply your teachers of the hour returned, their arms full of all sorts of kitchen utensils and ingredients. Eggs, milk, butter, baking powder, sacks of flour and sugar, and other ingredients were laid out in front of you.

"First, we'll start with the aprons," she handed each of you an apron, which you both put on. "Do you need help Namjoon? Wait, don't move," Saebom walked around the counter to tie your boyfriend's apron, taking her sweet time doing it too. Namjoon gave you a helpless look but you simply shrugged.

In any other circumstances, you'd be jealous, obnoxiously so, but right now you found this entire situation nothing short of amusing.

And suddenly a lightbulb lit up inside your mind.

His little comment about jealousy had really gotten to you. Namjoon, well the BTS boys in general, were always surrounded by girls who always had a sliver of hope that might have a shot with them. And it got on your nerves quite a lot of times that he would simply let them.

But when the shoe was on the other foot, and there were a couple of guys trying to get your attention, he was always as cool as a cucumber. Not even when the other guys flirted with you right in front of him.

You never really had an opportunity to see him jealous.

So you decided that maybe now was the time.

As if it were a sign, you caught Woojin looking at you at that very moment, of which he immediately looked away and coughed, his cheeks turning rosy. Maybe Namjoon had been right when he said you had caught the employee's eye. Expect he, at least, seemed to have more decency than his boss. You almost felt sorry that you were pulling an innocent person into this little game.

"Woojin, can you help me with mine too please?" you caught Namjoon looking at you out of the corner of his eyes, not shocked at your words but clearly surprised, at least if his raised brow was anything to go by. The young employee nodded, avoiding your gaze and blushing slightly. He walked around the counter to help you, his hands working quickly around your hips to tie the apron, clearly not taking him as long as Saebom was taking.

You finally decided to meet your boyfriend's gaze. His attention was solely on you, and given his slightly furrowed eyebrows, clearly not happy about it. "Seriously? Do you really want to play that game?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you shrugged, fighting the shit-eating grin that was desperately trying to form on your lips.

He, however, did not with the one on his lips. "Alright, let's play," his tone of voice sounded so smug. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Right back at you,"

You saw the incomprehensible expressions appear on Woojin's and Saebom's faces, no doubt wondering what that little exchange had been about. But the owner quickly composed herself.

"Perfect! It suits you really well," she said giving his arm another squeeze before moving about back to the other side of the counter. "Now, you'll see that it's not very complicated to make cupcakes."

"The main thing is to put a lot of love into it," you held back from rolling your eyes. "You'll start by taking a bowl and mixing the sugar with the softened butter," following the instructions, you didn't find it too complicated so far. Namjoon also seemed to be doing okay so far. "Then add the eggs, and then the flour, baking powder, and salt. And then we mix well! Above all, we don't want any lumps."

Now this was the part you knew full well your boyfriend would have the most difficulty. He was a very strong man but also very accident-prone, especially in the kitchen.

"Oh! Careful Namjoon, I still see some lumps," to say you were surprised would be an understatement.

Namjoon looked at you helplessly before something sparked in his eyes, probably remembering the bet if you had to take a guess, of which he started mixing the ingredients again, purposely poorly you may add, for a couple of seconds before giving up with a sigh. "I feel like there are still some left, would you kindly help me?"

"Of course! Wait, let me see," Namjoon looked at you with a mischievous look in his eyes.

Saebom got behind him and placed her hand on his. "Here! See, you just have to get the movement right. It takes a bit of energy, but as muscular as you are, that shouldn't be a problem."

You knew he was doing it on purpose, but you still had to stifle a chuckle. She was distracting him more than she was helping.

You started this game, he had no reason to play fair, especially with a dare on the line. And you knew how to play too.

"Woojin, I could really use a hand too. If you don't mind," you gave him your best puppy dog eyes and spoke softly.

"Sure," there was that blush again. "Want me to show you how it's done?"

"Yes, please, I still have a lot of lumps," you tried in the most outrageously languorous voice possible. "And you look like you're good with your hands." you glanced at your boyfriend and saw him clench his jaw.

"I - I'm… Anyway, I guess I am, as far as baking goes," Woojin came next to you and showed you how to mix the batter. He clearly remembered the earlier comment if the flush on his cheeks was anything to go by.

And that was the way you wanted it. "Oh wow, you have a great technique. It's very impressive!"

He gave a small chuckle. "It comes with experience. Try it, you'll see you'll get the hang of it pretty fast,"

"Yes, I'm sure you have a lot of experience," you had the subtlety of a brick to the face, but seeing the look Namjoon was giving you was all that mattered.

Woojin, on the other hand, was having as much trouble as your boyfriend trying to stay focused. Poor guy, he looked like he didn't even know where to stand anyone.

"There, let yourself go Namjoon. You have to put your heart into it," damn, you had completely forgotten about her. "That's it, a little bit harder," Woojin looked at you a little embarrassed, and you thought you weren't being subtle.

"Hmm, there, I think it's - It should be good now," she let go of him and took a second to regain her composure. "There, it's perfect! Now all you have to do is add the milk and vanilla, and then divide the mixture into the molds."

You both did that in just a minute. Afterward, both Saebom and Woojin put the molds in the oven.

"Now we wait for about twenty minutes," she crossed her arms over her chest. "Then, you'll have to do the most technical part, frosting and decorations. In the meantime, I'll take care of the cafe," she looked at her employee. "Woojin, before taking your break, please seat our guests for a tasting while the cupcakes are baking."

The young man nodded, taking you out of the kitchen and seating you at a table in the middle of the place. Giving each a cookie and a hot chocolate, on the house, before walking back into the kitchen.

However, before he left, he gave you an indefinable look. Of which you gave a small wave with a little wink. Then with a quick glance at Namjoon, Woojin disappeared through the door.

Saebom, on her part, pretended to follow her employee before stopping to turn at your boyfriend. She put her hand on his arm, smiling wholeheartedly. "I'll be right back. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call me."

Namjoon smiled back, placing his hand over hers, his gaze seductive. "Thank you very much, I'll do that," you simply rolled your eyes at the words.

When the door closed behind her, your boyfriend turned to you. "That Woojin seems to have really caught your eye,"

"He's pretty nice," you played dumb, glad to see your plan was working.

Namjoon was doing his best to hide it, but you could tell he didn't like it one bit. "Yeah, you're being very nice to him too,"

"Oh, I'm sorry, does that bother you? That maybe you're having a hard time fully concentrating on your cupcake?" you gave him your best cheshire grin. "I think that's called jealousy."

He snorted. "It's a good thing that Saebom is there to comfort me,"

You snorted, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. "I'm under the impression that it's Saebom that's doing all the work,"

"What I can say," he pulled his phone out of his pocket. "She loves a man with little experience."

"If only she knew the truth about you," you said giggling.  You were liking this game of yours a little bit too much, and why shouldn't you? It seemed like you were the clear winner. And you intended to take full advantage of it.

"Well, I'm glad you seem to be enjoying it a lot," you took another sip. "I can almost see your hair stand whenever she gets close to you," you started playing with your cookie, he wasn't looking at you but you knew he was listening. "Luckily for me, Woojin is pretty cute."

Namjoon clenched his jaw and gave a deep sigh. "If you think you're going to win like that," he looked at you, his eyes were dark and dangerous. "You're seriously mistaken."

You wouldn't deny that the way he was looking at you was making you hot and bothered, making you straighten your back while rubbing your thighs together. Namjoon seemed to have noticed, giving the smirk he was throwing your way.

He turned back to his phone. "It's a losing strategy, it takes too much effort to make puppy dog eyes at him," he said matter-of-factly. "You're going to mess up your cupcake while it has no effect on me," he looked at you again, pinning you to the spot, his voice getting deeper. "Because I know you're doing it on purpose."

You shrugged and tried to emulate the look he was giving you. "We'll see,"

His ringtone suddenly rang out. Whoever was calling him, he didn't look too happy about it given his frown. "Sorry, I have to take this. It'll only be five minutes," he left to take the call outside.

In your case it was still break time, so you stayed alone at the table, finishing the rest of your snack. You were sure Namjoon was jealous, after all, he made the comment about Woojin as soon as you sat down. That's proof that your strategy was working. He says it makes you distracted, but you're pretty sure he is more distracted than you.

And you don't intend to stop now.

Now that you thought about it, you needed to think about the kind of dares you wanted to give to him. Should you go for something nice and romantic? Or something a little bit stupid and embarrassing?

Hmmm… You'll think about it later, right now you needed to win first. And to do that you needed to think about how you were going to decorate the cupcake. So with whatever time you had left, you spent it brainstorming topping decorations.

As soon as Namjoon returned from his call, the owner came out, saying it was time to go back to the kitchen.

Saebom was touching Namjoon's elbow as she talked to him, while Woojin took the cupcakes out of the oven and placed them on the counter. Neither of the cupcakes looked particularly better than the other.

However, you still found funny that, even with the owner doing almost everything for him, she clearly wasn't focused on the task. At least you had the excuse of having a student instead of the teacher.

And although yours certainly wasn't the best, you still took the opportunity to brush Woojin's hand while smiling at him. "They're very beautiful, thanks for your help,"

Of course, Namjoon noticed but acted as if nothing had happened.

Perfect!

You still had the advantage, and you knew it would drive me crazy.

You tackled decorating for what felt like an hour.

Saebom spent the entire time touching Namjoon, taking every opportunity to touch him, take his hand, feel his arm. And of course, laugh out loud at his attempts at humor.

But you counterattacked by flirting shamelessly with Woojin, following Saebom's example of seizing every opportunity to get close to him. Laughing out loud at his slight clumsiness, twirling your hair around your finger, coos and compliments whispered in a languorous voice, making sure to ask for his help at each step.

And right now, hopefully for the finishing blow, swooning over his talent with the piping bag. "Woojin, that frosting looks really delicious," you took some on the tip of your finger and licked it slowly, with greed, method, and application.

It was fairly obvious what you were mimicking, which would explain the way Namjoon's eyes had widened at your audacity. And you probably affected poor Woojin as well, who had let out a shaky breath while not daring to look at you. He seemed more captivated than ever on the frosting preparations.

Even though you had done everything during this session to keep your boyfriend's attention on you, you never thought you'd have the boldness to go so far.

And a big part of you felt a little ashamed of yourself. Not only because you'd made a big deal out of it, but also because you had dragged a sweet and honest guy who was just trying to help into your shenanigans.

You could feel the poor man struggling to keep his professional front, frequently glancing awkwardly at Namjoon, who for his part, just kept clenching his jaw silently.

The small victory of having the intended effect on Namjoon felt incredibly weird, even if you had to admit to yourself that you were having a lot of fun putting up the act.

When the cupcakes were finished, Saebom clapped her hands. "Wonderful! I congratulate the both of you, they're lovely!" she turned her back to you. "I'll wrap them up from you and you can take them home."

You paid for the workshop while she packed your cupcakes in two small boxes, putting each in a paper bag.

Final call, yours was definitely the worse of two evils. The rest of the boys will never let you hear the end of it once they find out that Namjoon bestest you at making food. Especially Jin.

Afterward, she walked you out, a big smile on her face. "Don't hesitate to come back, the door is always open! Have a good evening,"

As she went back inside the cafe, you and your boyfriend turned towards each other. And Namjoon was definitely not happy.

On the outside, he was the picture perfect of calm, but those dragon eyes of his told a completely different story. There was something angry in those eyes, the likes of which you don't remember ever seeing before.

It scared you a little bit, if you were to be completely honest, it was too unknown for you. "Hehehe, at least I managed to distract you just a little bit, right?" you said awkwardly, trying to liven up the mood.

Unfortunately, it didn't work since Namjoon couldn't even be bothered to give you a pity smile.

You hoped that the evening air on the walk back to your dorm would help calm him down, even if just a little bit.

"Hum, E - excuse me, hum… Y/N,"

Shit!

Before you had the chance to walk away, Woojin came out of the cafe. And if Namjoon's looks could kill, the poor guy would be dead on the spot.

"When you first arrived I thought the two of you were a couple, but maybe I was wrong," he scratched the back of his head, clearly nervous. "I'm not very good at these things," he had a flush on his cheeks. "But I think… I… Anyway, here's my number."

You could feel Namjoon tense up as Woojin gave you the business card of the cafe with his number scribbled on it. And if you were hoping that your boyfriend would calm down before, that hope had gone straight to the trash.

"Um, thanks," you accepted the card, not knowing what else to do that would turn this weird situation any better.

"I hope it's not inappropriate," he gave a very awkward chuckle. "I'm really sorry if it is," he was looking at his feet now, the poor guy. "Of course, you can always throw it away. G - Goodbye."

He had spoken and disappeared into the cafe so fast that your brain needed to take a couple of seconds to catch up, while Namjoon was staring at the door with murder in his eyes. If you had felt weird about the situation before, now it was like you were drowning in an ocean of guilt.

You definitely had taken it too far.

"Wanna eat them at my place?" Namjoon finally spoke in a detached tone. "That way we can end this and see who will give the dare."

You felt your heart sink. This afternoon, this dumb game between you had been one big mistake from your part. You bit your bottom lip and nodded, following him in complete silence. Namjoon was walking beside you, brow slightly furrowed.

You wished you knew what he was thinking. "Are you thinking about your dare?" you spoke quietly and softly, wanting to break the quiet atmosphere. His eyes looked deeply into yours and he bit his lip but didn't give any answer.

And you didn't bother trying to break the silence again.

The sun had already disappeared by the time you arrived at the front of his building. He opened the door for you, letting you inside before taking the lead when going up the stairs, with you following behind. With each step, your heart was beating hard and fast against your chest, so much so that the sound completely muffled any other noises in your ears.

Still, without a word, he opened the door to the apartment and let you in. It was surprisingly empty given that seven people lived there. As you entered the apartment, you set the paper bags on the table in the middle of the living room. You heard the door close behind you, and a second later, the sound of the lock turning.

You turned around, finding Namjoon leaning against the door staring at you, brow furrowed and jaw clenched. There was something animal-like in his eyes, it was both scaring you and turning you on.

"Did you have fun?" his voice was an octave lower. "Did you like that? Making me jealous?" He took a step towards you, making you take a step back. "Did you think that seeing you act like a slut would drive me crazy?"

Every time he took two steps closer, you took one back, trying to create some sort of distance.

"I just - I wanted - You never really acted jealous, I just wanted to…" You only stopped once your legs hit the foot of his bed, causing you to fall backward and let out a gasp in surprise. When did you enter his room?

He closed the door behind him, a bit more forcefully than probably intended, and continued to stalk towards you. You were pretty sure he could see the wet patch in your panties if the smirk on his lips was anything to go by, the tent on his pants being clearly visible.

"I hope you're ready to take full responsibility for your actions," he was a few feet away from you, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his zip down.

You bit your bottom lip, wanting to play dumb for a little bit. "Hmm, what am I responsible for?"

He came closer, set his hands on your thighs, his face was inches away from yours and his gaze was burning with desire.

In a flash, he took hold of your legs and pulled you towards him, causing you to lay down and your dress rise, fully exposing your underwear, wrapping them around his hips, and making your crotches rub against each other.

You moan softly at the feeling, closing your eyes at a sensation you haven't felt in a long time.

Unfortunately, Namjoon didn't let you enjoy it for too long before pulling away from you.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you stared at him with a pout and a frown, but he didn't seem to care and simply took his shirt off, immediately turning your frown upside down as you indulged yourself in the image of the honey gold chiseled chest and hard muscled arms.

One of his large hands settled on your face, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at his dark dragon eyes as his thumb rubbed your bottom lip. With his other hand, he took hold of your right hand and placed it on his clothed crotch, making you fondle his needy cock. He leaned closer to your ear and whispered in a deep languorous voice. "For making daddy this hard for you,"

He pulled away from you again, and this time you followed behind, trying to get a grasp of the touch back. Almost as if hypnotized, you didn't notice until you fell off the bed and landed on your hands and knees on the floor, right in front of him.

You looked up at him, seeing him already looking at you with a raised brow, waiting for your next move.

You were like a worshiper looking up at its God, waiting for its blessing. And God, you were nothing if not a dutiful follower for him.

"Yes, daddy" you said breathlessly. "I'm ready to take full responsibility."

Smugly pleased, Namjoon beckoned you forward with a come hither gesture and you obeyed, crawling to him all the while keeping your eyes glued to his. You stopped once you were close enough, waiting for your next instruction.

"On your knees babygirl," you lifted your top half and made quick work of pulling his pants and underwear all the way down, when his cock sprung up your tongue passed over your lips while keeping your eyes on him.

His hand graced your hair for a few seconds before settling behind your head. "Open," you did as told as he brought your head closer to his length, painting your lips with his leaky tip before shoving his cock inside until your nose was rubbing against his pelvis.

You gagged at the sudden intrusion but kept your hands to yourself, your nails digging into the palm of your hands to help endure the early discomfort you tended to have due to his size every time you took him.

Namjoon thrusted into your mouth as he guided your head to meet his movements. His pace gaining speed with each thrust. All the while, he kept his eyes on you.

"My good girl, letting daddy fuck her throat raw," he grunted in pleasure, the messy picture of your eyes starting to tear up, your hollow cheeks with spit running down its corners, was getting him even harder.

But he wasn't as lost in the feeling of your mouth, he still hadn't forgotten about your little game, and the thought of it was enraging all over again. "Bet you wish it was someone else's cock down your throat." A whimper escaped you as you were pulled out of the moment, confused by his words.

"Bet you wish it was Woojin who was here," his thrusts gained a ferocious strength and speed. "Bet you wish it was his tiny dick in your mouth," you shook your head to the best of your abilities, telling him no, by now the tears in your eyes leaving freely. "Really? Then why were you acting like such a pathetic little slut?"

Subconsciously, you started rubbing your thighs, however, that act didn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend. "Tsk, such a fucking whore," the grip on your hair tighten and pulled you out of him. "Getting wet thinking of Woojin filling your needy cunt, are you?"

"N-no," you said through tears, still on your knees for him. "I-I only want daddy."

Namjoon leaned down until he was close enough for you to feel each other's breath, grazing his lips against yours but never pressing them together, much to your frustration. "Prove it," he whispered, his voice so deep that it sent shivers down your spine.

Letting go of your hair, you quickly stood up and moved towards the bed, removing your underwear in the process. Then, you took a seat on the edge of the bed, spreading your legs so he could see how wet you were, and throwing your panties at him.

He stomped towards you, his dark dragon eyes showed a hint of amusement at your actions, but that still didn't stop him from grabbing you by the neck and forcing you to look at him.

Namjoon leaned down again but this time, he gave a gentle bite to your bottom lip before smashing his to yours. It was a heated and tough kiss, hungrily devouring each other's lips and swallowing whatever noise the other made, the hand on your throat squeezing it here and there.

With a harsher bite to your lip, which caused you to gasp, he shoved his tongue inside, dominating yours very easily. He pulled away from your lips but kept the hand on your throat, giving it a tight squeeze.

"Hands and knees babygirl," he gave a nip to your earlobe as he whispered the words, stepping away from you afterward.

You did as told, crawling on your hands and knees until you were a little over the middle of the bed, with Namjoon moving right behind you, standing on his knees as he knead your ass with one of his hands, while the fingers of the other were rubbing the wetness around your slit.

He inserted two fingers into you, thrusting them slowly, making you let out soft moans. "Do you like it when daddy does this?" he added another finger, curling them precision against your sweet spot.

"Yes," you moaned breathlessly, starting to move your hips in tune with his hand, for he was moving too slow for you. "Please daddy, I want more."

"Hmm," he stopped thrusting but let his fingers remain inside you. "Do you think you deserve it, after what you did?" he removed his fingers and used them to pinch your clit, causing you to yell at the sensation.

"D-daddy!" He ignored you, choosing instead to stroke his fingers through your back. You thought nothing of it until you heard the sound of fabric tearing. Namjoon had grabbed your dress by its edges and ripped it apart from top to bottom, throwing the item onto the floor with a certain disdain. "Hey-"

Before you could complain, you felt a hard hit on your ass, quickly followed by three others in a row, making you let out gasps and cries at the smacks. "I'll buy you a new one," he growled, giving you one more smack before lining himself to your entrance and thrusting full force inside of you, making you take every inch of his large cock all at once.

You yelled at the sudden intrusion, not expecting your boyfriend to start so rough. His hands settled on your hips with a tightening grip, drawing himself back until only the tip remained before slamming into you with as much force as the first time, making you arch your back.

His pace rough but deep, his tip continuously brushing against your cervix. "Do you like this baby? Do you like taking daddy's big, fat cock?"

"Y-yes," you moaned out, your nails digging into the bedsheet, just so you could have something to hold on to.

"Oh really?" his pace started to slow down but remained deep. "Then why were you whoring yourself to Woojin?" He didn't give you a chance to reply, as he gained speed and started jackhammering into your cunt.

His name falling out of your lips mixed with moans and whimpers, his groans and grunts, and the sound of lewd squelching as his skin slapped against yours was bringing you closer to your high. You could do nothing other than to take his unrelenting assault on your pussy, you weren't sure if your brain was still functional but you knew no other sound would leave your lips other than moans.

"Did you like the attention he gave you baby?" his thumb started rubbing circles on your clit. "Do you think he'd be able to fill you up like daddy does?"

"N-no," you tried to reply, your voice hoarse. You could feel yourself getting closer to your high, and from the way your walls clenched around his length, Namjoon could tell as well, which is why he stopped all movement. Your orgasm disappearing bit by bit, tears of frustration started falling. "D-daddy please."

With a snap of his hips, Namjoon started his relenting pace once more, moving with such force that the bedframe started hitting the wall.

"Your cunt was made for me babygirl," Namjoon started to feel his own end approaching, and yet, despite his pace started to falter, he was still going with a wild and bruising pace. "No other cock will be able to get you like this."

"D-daddy, p-please," you couldn't hold on anymore, you felt like you were about to burst. "I c-can't," a loud whimper escaped you, interrupting your weak words.

"Cum baby," he kept switching between rubbing and pinching your clit. "Cum all over daddy's cock, show him who's the one that gets you this fucked."

You cried out you reached your climax, releasing all over him. Your top half dropped onto the bed, you felt so tired and weak to stand on your hands, even if you wanted to. With your walls trapping him inside, it wasn't long until you felt him stiffen against you and paint them.

You let out a whimper as he pulled out of you. Your legs fell on the bed, not being able to hold them up any longer, and Namjoon lay down beside you, panting as he pulled you closer to him.

"You okay?" his thumb started rubbing circles on your hip. "I wasn't too rough?"

You kissed his arm, feeling too tired to reach his lips. "My- My legs are shaking," you gave him a sleepy smile and got one of his dimpled ones as a reply. "I should get jealous more often."

He snorted. "I don't my heart could take going through that shit again," he planted a peck on your head. "I don't think my bed can either."

You giggled softly and closed your eyes, not being able to keep them open any longer. Namjoon didn't say anything else either, he simply cuddled you and every couple of seconds would kiss a part of either your head or hand.

It wasn't long until you fell asleep, feeling more tired and content than you'd been in days.

[ft-3racha]

against the law (ft. seo changbin)

pairing: seo changbin (skz) x gn reader

warnings: smut (!!), e2l (kinda??), public (but secluded) sex, bondage with a belt, clear d/s dynamics, oral (m rec), face fucking, dirty talking, choking, gagging, degradation (reader gets called slut, whore, fucktoy), praise (reader gets called good, baby etc.), changbin has a sir kink, scratching, slight dumbification and breeding kink if you squint, changbin in glasses needs a warning by itself

author‘s note: here is my first piece of fiction about one of the best rappers/producers/lyricists, seo changbin of stray kids! i really hope you like it! i tried to keep it as gender inclusive as possible by not mentioning anything about the body, so anyone would be able to imagine themselves in reader‘s place.

wc: 4,7k

_________________

studying law was never the main priority you set for yourself in high school. neither was graduating university as one of the top students and getting job requests thrown at you left, right and center; but here you were, almost a year into working at one of the best law firms in your city.

at first, your new colleagues were suspicious: you were young, barely had any knowledge about life and what being a lawyer would mean- or so they thought. within the first couple of days you were able to proof them wrong and quickly earned their respect. most of the team consisted of men in their 40s; all of them wealthy, very well known, highly praised lawyers, who worked on difficult cases all over the country.

there was only a handful of people close to your age, but you didn‘t mind that most your colleagues were double your age: it was more so a challenge to you.

you got along with all of them pretty well. except for one: seo changbin. every time you heard someone calling his name, you would feel an uncomfortable chill creep up your spine and your face scrunch in displeasure. this man was the epitome of an arrogant asshole: he was in his late twenties, about two years older than you, yet somehow you felt like he had the mind of a 14-year old teenage boy; with his constant bragging, his inappropriate commentaries and ridiculous laughter you felt more like you were talking to a middle schooler than to one of your teammates.

it was another day at the office, and you flattened out the back of your bottom attire before sitting down, placing your iced americano right next to your computer on your desk, just like you did every morning. your jacket was hung loosely over the back of the chair alongside your bag, the silver buckle on it lightly reflecting in the sunlight that shone through the window just right, warming your back slightly. „alright, let‘s get to it“, you mumbled to yourself, slowly lifting the cup to your lips and letting the cool liquid hit your mouth through the straw. you adored a good iced americano in the morning, occasionally bringing some for jisung as well, just like you did this morning. han jisung was one of the other co-workers around your age, and, benefitting to you, your assigned office-partner. at first you were scared about sharing the office with another person, but as soon as you found out it would be jisung, you were rather excited than scared. and to say you guys hit it off from the start was an understatement; turns out you guys had so much in common, that now, almost a year later, you were best friends and couldn’t imagine life without one another.

almost half an hour into working on your current case jisung stumbled through the door, his grey hair sitting on his head messily, the tie around his neck holding on for dear life and his button-up buttoned the wrong way. „i‘m so fucking sorry“, he started apologizing, „i absolutely did not hear my alarm this morning.“ „no worries, sungie“, you replied, a sly smile gracing your features, „i bet minho kicked your ass out of bed, huh?“ jisung sat down, his chubby cheeks covered in a rosy tint; it was not a secret to you that jisung was absolutely head over heels for lee minho, the main receptionist you walked past before heading into the office space every morning. well, almost every morning. „yeah, as soon as he noticed that we both slept in he basically ran for his damn life and dragged me with him“, jisung rambled before taking a big sip from his americano and slowly unpacking his files. „i left him an americano upfront as well.“ your gesture had jisung looking at you in adoration, his eyes throwing thank you‘s and kisses in your direction. „but, hanji, you guys really need to talk about keeping this whole situation a secret. i still don‘t get why you do that to yourself.“ your shift in topic caused jisung to drop his gaze as he began fidgeting with his hands: „i know, and we want to tell everyone. guess we‘re both just scared about what they will say.“ „if those old men around here say shit, then i‘m just gonna take my shoes and shove them up their a-“ „say shit about what?“, a certain voice made you freeze mid sentence and shift your gaze to the door: there stood changbin in all his annoying glory, pushing his black, thick framed glasses up the bridge of his nose before stepping into your office space without asking for it. „and who said you could come in?“, you confronted him, glaring right into his brown orbs. „i did, sweetheart“, he answered, dragging out the nickname for you nonchalantly. „didn‘t i tell you…like, a million times, not to call me that?“ he left this question unanswered, just shrugging his bulky, broad shoulders and slowly making his way over to your desk with long steps. „carter said that you and i should work on your murder case together.“ „i don‘t fucking think so, currently working on it with jisung“, you replied, crossing your arms over your chest and meeting his eyes once again. „that‘s weird, cause he told me that jisung is working on another case and asked me to help you.“ involuntarily, your cheeks turned a shade of red, embarrassment clouding your mind about the fact seo changbin caught you lying to his face. the truth was simple, yet hard: you‘d rather drown your face in a bucket of bleach than work with him on one of the most important cases of your entire career. „alright“, you admitted through gritted teeth, „you caught me. i‘m working on it alone, and it‘s gonna stay that way. i will never work on a case with you, idiot, and i think i made that pretty clear before.“ thats true, and he knew it. there had been multiple encounters in the past where changbin tried working with you, asked you out or shamelessly flirted with you (at least thats what jisung said; to you, it was just annoying bickering), but you declined him every time: your guess being that he was never rejected by anyone in his life, hencewhy his cocky behaviorism standing loud and proud.

he threw his hands up in defence, his big hands tall in the air as he rose his eyebrows and cocked a smile. „chill out, sweetheart. can‘t force you to work with me after all. just thought i‘d ask, to benefit the case, you know.“ he took his hands back down and scratched his left bicep with his right hand. that gesture made you take notice of the way he had rolled up the sleeves of his white button up, the cuffs meeting his elbows. the silky material clung deliciously tight onto his very defined, muscular upper arms, and his right triceps flexed with every move that he made. to say this man was attractive was an understatement. and you were aware of that. you were very much aware of how you wanted to run your hands through his fluffy, black locks every time they were as beautifully messy as they were on said day; it made him look like he got straight up and out of bed like this, and lord knows he probably did. seo motherfucking changbin was just as effortlessly handsome as one could be. and hot. oh, so hot. he was broad, back shaped like a triangle with muscles visible wherever you apprechiated them to be. but they didn‘t just look pretty; this man was strong. he could probably split you in half without any effort, and he would be perfectly fine.

to sum it up: he was exactly your type. if it wouldn‘t be for that goddamn ego. so, to sum it up correctly: he would be exactly your type. „you wanna see what‘s underneath or do you just wanna keep staring like that?“ a simple question and a smirk well known to you brought you back to reality, so you quickly shook your head and went back to resume with your work. you just stared at seo changbin, and you don‘t know for how long exactly. „all right, i‘m gonna go. you know where to find me“, the black-haired pack of muscles with an unnecessarily loud mouth said before leaving, turning around in the doorway to send quick goodbyes to han and a wink your way before disappearing completely. you let out a sigh of frustration before resuming your work, ignoring jisungs smile and questioning looks.

„alright, i‘ll see you later tonight, right?“, jisung asked, holding the door open for you to step out into the mild late afternoon breeze. your encounter with changbin was hours ago, yet it was still on your mind the whole day. you despised that guy and his awfully cocky behavior. and the way he thinks he can just swoon everyone off of their feet. and how he looks so fucking good. „yeah“, you replied, „i‘ll meet you back here at 9?“ „sure thing.“ with that, jisung hugged you before your ways parted. your apartment complex was only a couple blocks, and an approximately 15 minute walk, away from work, which you gladly took every day to prepare your mind for work and get your mind off of it afterwards.

15 minutes later you opened up the door to your little home before closing it behind you immediately, leaving your shoes, jacket and bag at the door. right off the bet, you were greeted by your cat, which you sat down with on your couch for a couple of minutes. you still don‘t know why you agreed to meet jisung back at the office at 9, because you had been dreading this exact gathering for weeks: your first annual office party. apparently it’s been a thing at the company for years now, to dress nicely and have some drinks together with some very important guests; investors, sponsors, clients from important companies and even ceo‘s from rivaling law firms would be there to celebrate and talk about…whatever it is that people talk about at those events. jisung asked you to go to get drunk with him, and you happily agreed because of the free alcohol, completely forgetting the formal attire and circumstances. „well, i already agreed. might as well get ready soon“, you mumbled to yourself before getting up to cook. after eating your food, you took a nice, long shower and sat down at your desk to finish up your hair and face before putting on the outfit you bought especially for this occasion. thid kind of attire was not out of your ordinary, yet you never owned a costume formal enough for events like this. this particular one, however, immediately caught your eye one day while you were out with han: it was a deep shade of burgundy made out of beautiful material, furthermore sitting just right where you needed it to: it was simple, yet elegant and beautiful. you were confident that this specific outfit would make anyone feel as nice as they possibly could, thats why you were absolutely stoked to get ready, eventho it was for a cause you feel like you could barely ever be ready for.

four hours later, and two rounds in already, you found yourself on the highest floor of the building. the big meeting area was decorated nicely for the occasion, and even a bar had been set up, soft music playing in the background while people were talking about taxes, work and the latest gossip. you, jisung and minho stood gathered around a small table, each of you a glass of champagne in your hand. „i‘m telling you, this man is obsessed with his cats“, jisung says while pointing at minho, his cheeks and nose already a little red from the alcohol. han jisung can‘t handle his alcoholic beverages. „that has been known forever, sungie“, minho replied for you while you just nodded in agreement, your eyes scanning the room to look for nobody in particular. at least that‘s what you were trying to tell yourself, but ever since this morning you couldn’t stop thinking about him and the fact that he‘s probably built like a fucking greek god. you despised that man for being so ridiculously sexy.

you kept on scanning a room, until your eyes met his. and you swore he was eating you up with his stare. but so were you. the black curls on his head messy as ever, the glasses adorning his face as always. his perfect figure was hidden behind a (probably tailored) black suit, a matching tie set around his neck and laying on top of a fresh white button up. he never wears ties, always refuses them because it makes him look „stuck up“. fuck him for making it seem like he‘s so different than anyone else for not wearing a tie.

on the other hand, seeing him with one on is a welcome change. he was talking to a couple of people that looked very important, sharing laughter here and there, answering questions while sipping on a beer. the situation itself seemed perfectly normal, at least to the people usually attending social gatherings like this one, except for the fact that he never lifted his gaze off of you, yet nobody seemed to mind. it was quite common for people to not look at each other, because nobody actually gave a shit in your industry. jisung and minho were so caught up in their own conversation that not even these two noticed the staring contest that was happening right in front of them. suddenly the mood switched, and changbin let his gaze wander. over your nicely done hair, over your glowing face, over your body. and by the way his eyes seemed to darken, you could tell that he liked what he saw. neither you nor changbin dared to drag the attention away from one another, too caught up in the moment to realize where you were: all that mattered was you two. and you were not mad about it. changbin slowly lifted his glass to his lips, nonchalantly answering questions here and there, slowly licking his lips after every sip he took. he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was fucking good at it. you felt like your blood was boiling inside of you, warmth spreading throughout your entire body. as much as you hated him, you wanted him. so badly. and, maybe just this once, you could forget about your principles.

apparently changbin felt the heat between you two, cause he began to loosen up his tie, and unbuttoned the first button of his shirt. your breath hitched and you involuntarily clenched your thighs together: you didn’t know that it was possible, but changbin just got ten times hotter.

the small smirk on his lips drove you crazy, your teeth slowly sinking into your bottom lip to provide any pathetic sounds from slipping accidentally. seo changbin made it difficult for you to stay calm on a daily basis already; on this particular evening tho, he did so for a completely different reason. before he excused himself and took one of the doorways out, he shot you a wink. not even a minute later you felt your phone vibrate, signaling you that you got a message.

i always wanted to fuck you on your desk

your brain short-circuited, and before you could even excuse yourself, your feet carried you to the elevator and down to your office. slowly, you opened the door, the whole room engulfed in nothing but the pale city lights and nervousness. with no sight of changbin, you stepped further into the room, about to turn on the light, when a hand on your wrist and the sound of the door shutting and locking stopped you from doing so. „hey darling“, a familiar voice rasped into your ear, before he pressed you against the door with a little, but not too much, aggression. „hi changbin“, was all you could answer, gulping down a lump in your throat, before your eyes finally adjusted to the dark and you could see his features: the smug grin left his face, and was now replaced by nothing but pure lust. „what are you doing here?“ oh, so he wants to play dumb. „you texted me something about my desk“, you replied, your gaze flickering down to his plump lips. one of his hands found his way to your chin, which he lifted up slowly, forcing your gaze to meet his once again. sweet, sweet torture. „really? what did i say?“ „that you wanted to fuck me on it.“ your direct answer made him chuckle darkly, his hand wandering from your chin down and finding your hips, where he lazily rested his hands. „i think i did say that, didn‘t i? and what do you think of that?“ you didn‘t know an answer to his question, so you simply shrugged as good as you could. „i need your consent, sweet thing. otherwise i will not touch you“, he stated, not moving an inch and looking at you. your next move determined whether or not the relationship between you guys changed or if it stayed exactly the same: him shamelessly flirting on a daily and you being overly annoyed by his poor excuses of pick-up lines he threw at you before going back to your usual back and forth until one of you guys had enough. but it already changed, so there‘s nothing left to lose, and probably the best fuck of your entire life to win. your hands slowly crept up his body, meeting each other behind his head, tangling in his hair. with glossy eyes and barely above a whisper, you threw all of your principles overboard and whispered: „please.“

without another word, he tightened his grip on your waist, cupped your face with one hand and let your lips meet in a heated kiss. his lips moved against yours with force, the kiss messy and sloppy. it was perfect.

as if it was nothing, he picked you up, your legs wrapping around him in one swift motion. „ you look incredible tonight“, he almost growled against your neck, before he started lingering it with kisses. you moaned softly, happy that there was not a soul in this part of the building. changbin carried you over to your desk and placed you down. there was nothing to throw off of it, like in those cliché movie scenes before they make out in an office: you always left your desk perfectly clean, apart from your computer. your hands tugged on his hair when he sucked on the right spots, occasionally earning a deep animalistic growl from him. „you have no idea how often i thought about fucking you right here.“ the thought alone made you go feral: changbin fucking himself to the thought of you. „and what did you do when you thought about me?“, you asked, wanting him to keep talking to you. „you really wanna know? i fucked my fist imagining it was your mouth taking my cock so fucking deep, gagging on it, or me filling you up to the brim.“ while he said all of those sinful things, he kept kissing your neck, resting his hands on your thigh or your waist while pressing his lower half into you. you could feel him growing harder with every passing second. involuntarily, you started rutting your hips against him in search for some kind of friction. „look at you“, he said lowly, looking down at you, „you‘re so fucking needy. can‘t wait for my cock anymore, huh? are you that desperate to get fucked? little slut.“ you moaned louder, and he pressed his palm against your lips in order to shut you up. „oh, someone likes being degraded“, he noticed, the blush on your face furiously growing as he took away the hand he placed on your mouth. „do you?“ all you could do is nod in submission: his presence was so dominating, but in the best way possible. „now tell me: do you want me to take of your clothes or fuck you in them so you remember me whenever you look at them?“ his question left no room for a different answer than the second one. „fuck me in them“ „then ask nicely“, he retorted, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, taking off his tie and everything else he wore uptop in one swift motion. and holy shit, his upper body looked just as broad and delicious as you imagined it to be. „please, sir, take me in my clothes, so i remember you whenever i look at them.“ that goddamm nickname made him let out another animalistic sound, before unbuckling his belt and taking it off, carefully placing it to the side. you gave yourself a mental check up to keep that name for him. „on your knees, i‘m gonna put that smart mouth of yours to good fucking use.“ in one swift motion you moved from the desk down on your knees, watching as he pulled down his zipper, dragging the pants and boxer down with it. and then he stood, in all his glory, and you swore you had to be careful not to salivate. his length was nice; not overly huge, definately not small either. but he was girthy for sure. his tip was leaking, signaling you how ready he was for you to take him wherever he wanted you to. „open up, and tap my thigh three times when it‘s getting too much for you. understood?“ „yes, sir“, you responded with obedience, his gaze meeting yours. „such an obedient baby, so good to me.“ the praise was doing it for you as well. he grabbed your hair before shoving his length past your lips and bottoming back out. changbin moaned at the feeling of your warm mouth around him, and you swore you never heard a more beautiful sound leave his pink lips, bevor he slowly started moving in and out of your mouth, giving you more and more of him with each thrust. the sight alone turned you on to a maximum: changbin using you, being so high on the pleasure your mouth is giving him, made you shiver in anticipation. you didn‘t mind him using you like a personal fucktoy whatsoever, in fact it excited you even more.

he continued to fuck your face until you gagged on him, saliva covering his cock and tears brimming your eyes, threatening to spill. changbin loved seeing you in this fucked out stage, submitting to him without hesitation. „you look so fucking good, taking my cock so fucking good like that. my personal little slut, shit“, he moaned, before taking his cock out completely. „get up, i don‘t wanna cum like that. wanna cum inside of you.“ finally. „do you want me to use a condom?“, he asked before lifting you back up onto the desk. „no, sir. please. i need you so bad. wanna feel all of you inside me“, you answered, resting a hand on his chest. he took it away, locking a hand around your wrist before looking in your eyes and asking with seriousness laced in his voice: „who said you could touch me?“

you knew you were fucked as soon as those words left his lips, but never in your life would you have imagined to find yourself lying back down on your office desk with your hand held together by a belt over your head. it was thrilling, exciting. it made your heart beat in your chest like crazy. or maybe it was that god-like man above you about to give you the best dick of your entire life. „you look so fucking good right now, so ready for me“, he mumbled, letting his hands wander up your legs that were spread out for him nicely. obviously he wouldn’t be able to take you completely dressed, so your bottom half was bare at this point, your underwear tossed somewhere in the room only the fabric knew. suddenly you were brought back by the head of his cock rubbing against you, wet from a mixture of your saliva and arousal. without another warning, you felt him stretch you out just right. it was a little painful, but in the best way possible. he also didn‘t give you any time to adjust, setting a steady rhythm from the start. and once he noticed he fucked you just how you liked it, he got faster and faster, drilling into you at an unholy speed. you would practically scream his name at that point, if it weren‘t for changbin shoving two fingers into your mouth, shutting you up, you only being able to moan and whine around his digits. „so fucking hot“, he growled, „taking my cock so fucking well in your tight little hole.“ he took his fingers out of your mouth, demanding you to tell him how good it feels. „so good…so big…“ you weren‘t able to form coherent sentences at that point, he quite literally fucked your brains out. „taking it in your fucking office, on your desk. gonna remember this night forever, how you let me fuck you here, like the little whore that you are“, he slurred between inhumane thrusts, drunk on your walls clenching around him and the thought of you. „wanna touch you, please“, you begged on the verge of tears, overwhelmed by all the pleasure you were feeling. „mark me up“, is all he said, loosening up the belt. you knew exactly what to do, ramming your nails in his back and scratching him to the point where he felt like exploding, the pain mixed with the thought of being marked by you too much.

he could tell you were close, your abused walls convulsing around him and getting tighter with every thrust. he closed a hand around your neck, hammering into you with the last bit of willpower left, barely able to hold back his own orgasm, too engulfed in your warmth. „cum for me, let it all out“, he ordered, and you didn‘t need to be asked twice, spasming and clenching around him immediately as waves of pleasures hit you with so much force that you felt like seeing stars. that‘s all it took for him to follow, your clenching core getting filled by him until every last drop was yours.

both of you needed a moment to come back to reality, yet it hit you pretty quickly: you just had sex with seo changbin. the seo changbin you despised so much. or so you thought.

before you were able to say anything he pulled out, leaving you with an unpleasant feeling of emptiness. you sat up and he immediately took your face in his hands and gave you a kiss. a kiss that was full of so much passion you, once again, felt like passing out. „are you okay?“, was the first thing he said, with genuine concern lacing his voice. „yes, i‘m perfectly fine. just a little sore“, you answered, earning a laugh from him before he nervously started scratching his neck. „listen“, he started, „i meant what i said, not just sexually. i think about you a lot, and i would really like to take you out. i know you don‘t like me, probably for a good reason, but i promise you, i‘m not that bad.“ „i guess i can give you a chance“, you bickered, which caused him to just smile.

next thing you know you woke up in your bed, the memories from last night flooding your head. as you slowly roll over you grabbed your phone, noticing a message from jisung at the top of your screen. „hope you got home safe!! sorry i didn‘t talk to you a lot, but minho kissed me in front of everyone, guess we‘re official now. oh btw, i know you‘re off today, but quick question: why is there a pair of underwear on my fucking chair????“

[zeruby16]

reasons to love studying- kim taerae

18+ MDNI

genre: smut, fluff, romance

summary: when you find yourself in the need of a tutor, matthew recommends his close friend, kim taerae. you finally figure out some way to like college algebra.

word count: 3.2 k

warnings: afab! reader, switch taerae; usage of pet names (sweetheart); cursing; oral sex (giving); fingering; penetration; protected sex (always use protection); slightest degradation kink; please let me know if i missed any

notes: i did not grammar check this, so please have mercy. the ending might be a bit rushed because i wanted to find some way to finish this imagine. please enjoy!

REMINDER: 18+ MDNI

school was never your forte.

you depended on websites for homework answers and decided how c’s could still get you a degree, so you lived your life carelessly.

however, there was one minor bump in your plans. you couldn’t pass college algebra. 

you took the class three separate times and dropped it before you could fail. being a fashion major, you never anticipated anything dealing with numbers unless it was measurements, but here you were.

the amount of drops allowed had caught up to you and the last class you needed to graduate was college algebra. there was no way around it, you needed to take the class and pass with a c or higher. 

you had to graduate college if you wanted to go on and own your own boutique. the thing was you tried taking college algebra seriously, but nothing worked. you needed genuine help.

“why don’t you hire a tutor?” matthew, your closest confidant and first hand witness to your hatred of math, asked.

“i’m a senior trying to pass a freshman class, it’s embarrassing if i hire a tutor,” you sulked.

“it’s the only option left if you want to actually understand the class,” he pointed out, making you sigh in response as he was sadly right.

“i just don’t want anyone to know, it would ruin my good rep,” matthew rolled his eyes.

“you ruined it the moment you presented in speech visibly hungover,”

“in my defense, she said presentations were a huge part of the grade and no excuses could be used unless given by a doctor. she got what she asked for and i still got a b,” you shrugged towards matthew and saw the glint of actual disappointment in his eyes.

“you know what, i have a friend who works in the tutoring center. maybe he’ll be able to tutor you privately without others knowing,”

“is he cute?”

the canadian looked at you begrudgingly, “is that all you care about?”

“no…”  

“you’ll see for yourself, once i convince him to take you in,”

“take me in? what am i? a lost cause?”

“at this point, you are.”

what matthew failed to tell you was that his friend was taerae. 

the kim taerae. the vocal prince who made rounds around the university for his angelic voice and radiant smile. the cutest being you’ve ever encountered and now your tutor.

you considered canceling on him as you felt like your focus would be towards the attractive boy, but you didn’t want to cause any trouble. 

he managed to find time after his vocal class to schedule you in. he was willing to come to your dorm, so you could study privately and avoid being seen by other students. it came at a cost to you, but you appreciated how much he helped.

you pulled out your textbook and notes as you finished tidying up your desk. your dorm wasn’t a mess, but you two needed a workspace. once you heard a knock on the door, you stood still for a second, mentally preparing yourself to bathe in his presence.

the boy knocked again and you rushed to the door realizing how long you had left him standing there. you opened it to taerae’s charming smile as he had his glasses on and held his bag on his shoulder.

“y/n, right?”

“yes and you are taerae, matthew told me about you,” you smiled as you gestured for him to come inside.

“i can’t thank you enough for agreeing, i really never saw myself in this position,” you nervously scratched your neck as he placed his shoes near the door and his backpack on the floor.

“it’s no worries, algebra isn’t the easiest subject,” he politely understood your concern.

he looked towards your desk and pointed at your textbook and journal, “i assume this is the work you’re struggling with?”

your eyes widened as you realized how there was only one desk chair.

“oh yes, let me find you a chair!” you frantically looked under your bed for the extra chair you knew you had while taerae chuckled at your antics.

“thank you, let’s get started shall we?” 

taerae was phenomenal at his job. he fully taught you the concept of exponential equations and how they were solved. he explained how to graph and solve for the equations. 

better yet, he looked hot as hell as he did it. 

you comprehended what he said and how he did things, but you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes would wander off to his lips, his nose, or the little pieces of hair that fell in front of his face.

thankfully, he was oblivious to your eyes, but when he neared you to point towards a graph in your textbook, your heart rate soared and you were slightly turned on.

“okay, think you can solve a problem now?” taerae asked, turning his face towards you as you distracted yourself with your textbook to calm down the butterflies in your stomach.

“yeah, totally,” you gulped, writing down the equation he wanted you to figure out.

you figured out the x-axis of the equation, plugging in multiple numbers to confirm your answer and proceeded to write it down as an answer.

“good job, now try graphing it,” he encouraged, pulling out a loose sheet of graphing paper near him.

you drew the lines and plotted your points, but hesitated to draw the function.

“what’s wrong?” his eyebrows furrowed at your resistance.

“i can’t tell how to draw the line,” 

“well since the equation is in a fraction form with an exponent, is the slope positive or negative?” he asked as he came closer next to you to point towards your work.

your heart nearly stopped. his shoulders were touching yours and his arm brushed yours as he moved it to help explain the equation.

you could smell his mahogany scented cologne. you heard his breath as he rambled on about slopes and solutions.

“is it a negative slope?” you questioned your answer while taerae nodded enthusiastically. 

“you can see it forming too, so connect the dots downwards and make sure the line doesn’t touch the x-axis.” 

the pencil in your hand magically moved itself, drawing out the line he told you to. once you placed your pencil down, you stared at the question for a second to distract yourself from your thoughts.

“see, that wasn’t too hard was it?”

the problem wasn’t hard at all. you actually understood after he explained, but he was making you flustered and you couldn’t conjure any thoughts. 

“are you okay?”

“what?” you jumped a bit.

he laughed at your clumsiness, “you seemed a little spaced out. did the problem make your head hurt?”

you waved his idea off, “no, it wasn’t the problem! you explained it well!”

he leaned back on the chair and crossed his arms, smiling mischievously.

“what was the problem then? you hesitated answering the graph section,” your eyes widened at his observance. 

“oh that- i just forgot slopes for a second,”

“are you sure?” your heart rate picked up as he sat upright on his chair.

“definitely,”

“nothing’s bothering you?”

“nope,” he looked at you suspiciously. 

“okay then,” he surrendered to your delight, “let me write up another problem.”

he took the pencil and wrote down an equation for you to graph, handing the pencil back to you once he finished.

“give it a try,” he gestured towards the paper and you switched your focus onto it.

you stared at the problem confusedly, realizing it seemed impossible to figure out.

“this is solvable right?”

he nodded playfully, “what you suddenly forgot how to solve for x?”

“no, i just can’t focus,” you mumbled. 

you were flustered, he could tell, and you knew for a fact this problem had no real solutions.

“you what?” he leaned towards you, trying to hear you once again.

“i can’t focus!” you frustratingly yelled.

you looked at him to see him smiling sheepishly.

“it’s adorable how riled up you get,” he bluntly stated.

“what do you mean?” you panicked, slowly coming to the realization that you were fucked.

he turned his body to face yours and placed his hand on your thigh gently, sending shivers down your spine.

“did you think i wouldn’t notice the staring?” he caressed your thigh as his voice slightly deepened.

“i wasn’t staring!” you protested.

“sweetheart, you were fucking me with your eyes,” his words went straight to your core.

“i-i-”

“now, i’ve got you speechless. how cute,”

he lifted one of his hands from your thigh to your face as he caressed your cheek. you avoided his gaze, not wanting to fall deeper into the hold he had over you.

“if i checked your underwear right now, would it be soaking?” he placed his hands down to open your legs, placing his thighs in between them to prevent you from closing them.

“n-no,” you let out, earning a deep chuckle from him.

“you are just a liar, aren’t you?” 

“liars deserve punishment, don’t you think?” he seductively asked, biting your lips nervously, you disagreed.

he took his thighs out of yours and stood out of his chair, you followed his every movement as he stared down at you.

“can you stand up sweetheart? i think it’s time we switch seats,” you immediately stood up and moved out of the way for taerae to sit on your rolling chair.

he sat down and rolled back, patting his lap afterwards. you hesitantly placed yourself onto him, feeling the tent popping out of his pants. 

“here’s what we’re going to do, you are going to answer the next five questions. if you get a single thing wrong, i’m going to stop,” he commanded.

“that’s not fair,” you whispered under your breath, knowing how he would make you lose your focus.

“what’s that?”

“nothing,”

“it’s either that or you get nothing at all, do you really want that?”

“no!” you whimpered, accidentally grinding yourself on his lap.

“exactly, now start on your problems,” he placed his hands on your waist, keeping you still.

you shut your eyes, thinking the action would get you to concentrate on your work. the first problem was the easiest. it was too good to be true.

once you got to the second problem, you felt taerae’s hands moving your waist slowly over his clothed hardon. you whimpered, realizing how difficult the next four questions would be.

you finished the second problem and went to the third, while taerae started to kiss your neck feverishly as a reward. you felt him biting lightly, knowing he would leave marks for the next day.

the real problem came when you got to question number four. taerae had stopped moving your waist, but held it with one hand while the other undid your shorts. 

you looked at the graph, trying to figure out the slope of the function and getting closer the answer, until taerae’s finger grazed over your clothed core. you shivered from pleasure as you placed one of your hands on the desk to get ahold of yourself.

“focus,” he growled into your neck, continuing to pepper it with kisses. 

he kept on rubbing your clit over your underwear, while the hand on your waist started to make its way under your shirt.

you continued the problem, moaning softly at his ruthless teasing. you sighed in relief as you drew the line of the graph and made it to the fifth question.

to your demise, taerae took it as a sign to place his fingers past your underwear and feel your heat.

“you’re soaking,” he scoffed. 

“you don’t even deserve this much,” your whimpers drowned out any thoughts involving math.

“finish the question,” he demanded, proceeding to slip his finger into you. you moaned at the action, accidentally scribbling a line on the graph you were trying to work on.

he moved his finger at a rapid pace, while you tried to finish the last part of the question. you gripped onto the desk as if your life depended on it and muffled your moans. you were bathing in pleasure as he kept going with no stops.

once you placed the pencil down anxiously, taerae looked over your shoulder and took his finger out. you looked at him with dismay, complaining about the emptiness until he smirked.

“what’s this line?” he pointed, using the finger with your juices coated in it.

“an accident! i scribbled it when-”

“don’t care, you got the question wrong,” he concluded.

“but i didn’t mean to write it! this is the line-” you protested, trying to convince him to spare you.

“sorry sweetheart, i told you liars deserve punishment,” he started to lift you off of himself, his tent still showing.

“but-”

“but what?” he looked at you expectantly and you suddenly gained confidence as you dropped to your knees.

“i can help you,” you mentioned, starting to palm his hard-on. 

his eyes closed behind his glasses in pleasure as you continued to move your hand over him. 

“you think you can get away with lying by making me cum?” he tried to clearly say, your eyes staring right into his as you unbuttoned his pants.

“please?” you begged, hands starting to touch him over his underwear.

he hesitated in answering as you proceeded to pull down his underwear and grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip. you kept stroking him, spitting on your hands at some point.

“i just want to thank you for helping, isn’t that fine?” you teased, placing his tip into your mouth and rubbing your tongue over it.

“fuck!” he groaned, placing his hands on your hair to grab ahold of you.

“you haven’t said it’s fine,” you scolded, stopping your movements.

“okay! just don’t stop!” he begged and you smiled, continuing the motions you went through before.

taerae was thick, so consistently moving your mouth on his cock proved to be a challenge, but with his hands guiding you, he neared his orgasm.

“god, you’re doing great y/n,” he praised, groaning as he found your eyes. 

his moans sounded beautiful as he let them out frequently and you fastened the pace of your mouth.

“holy shit,” he moaned, cumming in your mouth. you cleaned all of his cum off, swallowing the contents.

you looked at him dazed. he could cum again at your fucked out state. your hair tangled from his grip, your mouth glistening with his juices, and your eyes dilated at the pleasure.

he grabbed your chin and lifted your mouth towards his, pulling you into a feverish kiss. the kiss went on heatedly as you two fought for dominance, taerae winning as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. you went on until you pulled away breathlessly. 

taerae patted your head, picking you up from the floor as he smiled.

“only because you’ve been a good girl,” he said, pulling you towards the couch adjacent to your desk. 

you followed him, deserting the algebra work he came to help you with.

as much as you wanted to pass college algebra, you needed kim taerae to fuck you more.

he grabbed a condom from his backpack before he sat himself down on the couch, slipping it onto his cock. he proceeded to take off his shirt as he openly checked you out.

you removed your shirt as well and unclasped your bra, showing taerae the handprints he left from grabbing your waist earlier.

you faced him as you sat on his lap and grabbed his cock to line it up with your core. he pushed into you slowly, bottoming out and letting you adjust to his length.

“how are you so wet, yet so tight?” he groaned as you placed your head on his shoulder.

“cause you didn’t fuck me earlier,” you muttered under your breath, wanting to rile up the boy.

taerae placed his hands on your hips and stopped your motions.

“what did you say?” he looked at you expectantly.

“nothing,”

“you’re lucky you’re getting to ride me, consider this your last warning sweetheart,” his hands guide your hips and you start to ride him at a fast pace.

his name came out of your mouth so easily, if only you could answer the questions left on your desk the same way.

his motions fastened as well as he felt you getting closer to your climax.

“taerae please,” you begged, trying to bounce faster as he continued to hit your spot mercilessly.

“you’re taking me so well sweetheart, tell me did you ask for my help just to fuck me?” his voice lowered as your eyes closed in pleasure.

“no, i-” you couldn’t get any words out of your mouth, “i needed help.”

“are you sure? what did i say about lying?”

“i promise!” you yelled, not caring about your neighbors. as long as taerae was the man you were with, you wouldn’t shut up.

“i’m so close,” you cried.

tarae continued his motions, adding a finger in between your bodies to stroke your clit. your moans became louder and the only words left you could say was his name.

“go ahead, y/n, come like the dumb slut you are,” his words pushed you towards your orgasm, resting your head on his shoulders afterwards.

he kept pushing himself inside of you until he came again, groaning your name.

you two stayed in your positions until you heard taerae chuckle.

“what’s so funny?” you slightly pouted, looking at his cheeky smile. 

“i’d never thought i’d be tutoring someone as gorgeous as you,”

“shut up, you’re only saying that because of the position we’re in,”

“no, i’m serious.”

he grabbed a piece of your hair from your face and pushed it behind your ear.

“every time i saw you around campus, i would secretly pray about you needing help. i even told matthew about it,” your eyes widened.

“so matthew asked you to tutor me because you found me attractive?” you claimed, looking at him suspiciously.

“maybe,”

“i really didn’t think it would get to this point,” he added.

“well i never hid my feelings for you from matthew, so i guess we both lucked out.”

taerae let out another one of his adorable chuckles and placed his forehead on yours.

“we seriously need to get you to study again, you learned nothing from this session,”

“it’s not my fault you’re hot,” you lifted your hands to your defense.

“how about this, after we get dinner next week, we’ll have a productive study session?” he suggested, your cheeks were tinted with pink.

“are you asking me out, taerae?”

“yes sweetheart, i am. unless you only want to stick to-”

“no! i want to go out with you!” he laughed at your rushed response.

after you two rested for a while more, taerae pulled out of you and threw away the condom in the nearest trash can. he also prepared towels for you and cuddled with you on the couch until you fell asleep.

matthew was not one bit surprised when he knocked on your door the next morning to find his friend sound asleep on your couch.

you could care less though because in your last semester of college, you finally found a reason to like studying. 

a/n: thanks for reading, sorry for any grammar mistakes

@zeruby16 on tumblr | est. 2023

[celezztia]

Taking a stab at writing, I haven’t done it in a while, but I want to help contribute a Professor! Vampire Donna AU and maybe in the future a few spicy one shots, because we are all thirsty.

(I will format this better as I go on, but do enjoy)

Professor! Donna x Fem reader

(May contain fluff, smut, angst in the future, but first chapter is sfw)

After many trials and tribulations, I had managed to score a scholarship to a college in Romania; Miranda’s All Girls University: though you hadn’t hear much of the campus aside from what the schools website conveyed, who are you to pass up an affordable education?

Had you stayed in America, you would spend years paying off these debts, but now your saved money was going towards travels, airplane tickets, apartment down payment and such .

You were the one that applied, got accepted and the first day of college you were ready.

Though as ready as you thought you were, your new life was far more interesting than you had imagined.

You signed up for a Botany course, a few math and English, and an elective in theater. You figured your years in high school being a techie would come in handy.

The professors were fairly bearable, though the Art History professor was quite striking. Intimidating and cold, but as long as you listened, she never really called you out to answer.

Now as you walk towards your Botany class, you pushed the heavy doors open, grunting a bit as you pushed it open.

It was a vast room, build almost like a media center with levels of desks that led down to the board and desk where the professor sat. She was scanning a stack of papers , a pair of red reading glasses hanging off her nose.

You decide to sit in the front of the classroom; mainly because you did always enjoy the sciences, even if you were more right brained.

The room filled slowly, and a few students began talking quietly to one another, the sound of pencils tapping against the desks.

A group of girls came in together, laughing and chatting.

You clicked your phone open, looking at it for the time.

8:02.

The professor sat at her desk, unmoving from her papers as she spoke.

“Do try to enter here in a graceful manner, class had already begun.” She said curtly, her nose crinkling as she continued to read paperwork. The girls quieted down and dispersed among the classroom.

As they sat down, the older woman stood, pushing her glasses back onto her head.

She was quite tall, slender, dressed in all black; a turtleneck, slacks, and a cardigan that draped to her ankles.

Her hair was in a mostly tight bun, a few raven strands fallen to frame her pale face. A discolored scar splotched across her left eye.

She began to pace around, the sounds of her heels clacking against the wooden floor filling the classroom.

“Good morning. I am Professor Beneviento. Please make sure to keep the chit chat to a minimum, or at least to your breaks. I would like to think that I have enough patience for all of you. This class is about the science of plant life, not the unnecessary jargon. Is that understood?”

She waited for a response from the class.

It took a second, but after some nods, she continued.

You couldn't help but absorb her.

She commanded a room fairly well, yet seemingly suave in the process. Her voice was soft, but had a slight roughness that made her sound older than she actually was.

You kept your pen glued to your notebook, hanging off every word this woman spoke in case you needed to jot it down.

The class ended sooner than you realized, and as you grabbed your books and placed them into your bag, Professor Beneviento walked up behind you, leaning over your shoulder.

Your heart jumped to your throat and you dropped the papers in your hands, the pages scattering everywhere.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, as my notes and pages in my binder flew in different directions.

The professor chuckled softly, and began to help you pick up the papers.

I apologized quickly and thanked her as we finished picking them up.

"Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to scare you."she spoke softly as she handed me the stack of papers I haphazardly threw everywhere.

Her voice was as much less commanding than usual. Up close, you realize her eyes were almost crimson. Maybe that was a gene in Europe, you weren’t going to have your first impression of you questioning her features.

Well… second influence at least.

I nodded nervously, realizing how much she towered over me.

She was a lot thinner than I thought, and a lot prettier.

Her dark hair framed her pale face, a few strands falling from her tight bun, her eyes were a striking red, her lips pouty and pursed.

“Y-You’re okay! I just get spooked easily.” I say, my face dusted with pink.

I could’ve sworn the older woman grinned at me for a split second after that comment.

“Your accent, you must be American, yes?”

You nodded.

Her eyes lit up a bit.

"That's good. We have a few other international students this semester. I know this university is pretty new, but I can assure you this is a great school. If you do ever need help with anything, I will do what I can to accommodate.

What is your name again, coda dolce?” She asked, a thick Italian influence in her tone.

You smiled and told her, her expression remaining fairly stoic, but her eyes had softened.

“My name is Y/N, ma’am.”

"What a lovely name. You'll have to pardon me, Y/N, I have to run to another lecture. But do come to me with any questions.”

You nod, and she gives you a smile and a nod before walking past me and exiting the lecture hall, the scent of honeysuckle following.

[br0-please]

Biology 18+

Nerd!Miguel O'Hara x afab!Reader

Cw: Minors do not interact. Smut, sub!Miguel dom!Reader, Miguel is reader's tutor, University au. Miguel calls reader 'mommy', reader calls Miguel 'good boy'. Not proofread. Oral sex (f receiving)

Another warning: This is my very first time posting anything on Tumblr, so honestly coming out strong with this one. Been a long-time reader but I've decided I've got my own things to say about Mr.O'hara. Also this was inspired by @nymphomatique 's yummy fucking Nerd!Miguel au, so enjoy~ ;) I'm so down bad.

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

Miguel sat next to you on the floor of the living room of your apartment. A textbook and both of your laptops on the coffee table, you leaned with one arm on the table supporting your head as you stared at Miguel who was explaining a concept to you. He seemed so lost in his excitement about the subject that he failed to notice the way you grinned at him. Your eyes trailing from the strands of hair that fell on his forehead, to the way his glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose, down to his lips. He was so gorgeous, so cute. You just wanted to grab him and shut him up.

A couple of weeks ago you decided getting a tutor would be a good idea. As the semester moved along you could feel the weight of your classes starting to bear down on you, not having enough energy to try and understand the complicated concepts fully on your own. So you went down to the tutoring center on campus and there you set up your first appointment with Miguel.

He was just the cutest thing you've ever seen. The way he pushed up his glasses and looked up at you from where he sat at his desk and said in a quiet voice, "Oh, I can tutor you." made you bite your lip and smirk. There was something so sexy about this nerd, something told you he's never felt the touch of a woman before, despite being so attractive, and that made you want to claim him as yours.

"So um... is that a little better? Do you get it now?"

Miguel's soft voice snapped you back to the present.

"Oh yeah, yeah. That explanation was actually really helpful, I didn't think to look at it like that." You nervously chuckle, pulling some response out of your ass.

He quietly nods at you, turning back to his laptop and opening another tab. "You know, I actually made a practice quiz for the exam if you'd like it." Miguel looks back in your direction but keeps his gaze on the floor in front of you instead of your eyes.

"Wow, thanks Miguel!" You say as you lean in closer to look at his laptop screen. Your elbows rested on the coffee table as you bent over it with your knees steadying you on the floor, the hem of your skirt riding up your ass.

Miguel tried his best to avoid the sight of your panties under your skirt, but couldn't help gazing at how the soft fabric draped over your plump ass and how the fabric of your panties was darkened by a wet spot. His voice shaking a bit as he responded. "Uh, yeah. No problem."

Still bent over the table, fully aware of what you were doing to him, you turn just your head to look at him. Smirking and feigning innocence. "Are you hungry Miguel? Can I get a snack for you? Or are you just gonna stare at my ass for the rest of our session?" You ask, now swaying your hips teasingly at Miguel who was left a stuttering and blushing mess.

"I- uh- oh- um..." He inhaled sharply trying to collect his thoughts as he stared down at his hands in his lap, avoiding eye contact with you.

"I-I'm sorry... I just... I didn't mean to!! I promise it won't happen again!" He was a mess, fidgeting with his fingers as he stumbled over his words trying his best to apologize to you. You just smirked at him before standing up above him before bending down to get your face at the same hight as his. You take a finger and hook it under his chin to lift it up.

"Hey, look at me." Your voice barely over a whisper. Excitement washes over you as his big chocolate eyes meet yours, poor thing looked so scared.

"Aweee Miguel don't worry I'm not upset at you." You coo.

"But are you going to answer my question? Are you hungry or not? I advise you to say yes." Your hand moves to grab his jaw as you talk, looking down at him with a mischievous look.

"I um, yes. I'm hungry..." He almost whimpers as he looks up at you.

"That's great. I'll be sure to feed you since you've been so nice and have tutored me all this week." Your voice was sweet but taunting as you stood back up fully, looking down at him. "You're so cute you know that? You're gonna make me feel so good." You reach down and run a hand through his hair.

Miguel's breath catches in his throat, he seems like he's almost in a trance, not knowing if this is real or not. "M-mommy..." He whimpers, immediately clasping a hand over his mouth after he realizes what he just said.

You grip the hair on his head tight and tilt his face up to look at you as you hear what he just said. A wild and pleased grin painting your face.

"Oh, what was that? Mommy? Is that what you want to call me? God Miguel, I didn't know you were desperate enough to call me mommy." Miguel could only whimper in response as he looked up at you, the expression on his face betraying how much he wanted you.

"And it just slipped out like that huh? Can't even hide your desires from me. You're so lucky I'm already in the mood to give you a treat. Is that what you want Miguel?"

"Y-yes." Miguel swallowed. "Yes please Mommy, I would love that." He whined, his lips quivering as he spoke.

"Mmm, oh I can already tell you're gonna be a good boy for me. Come here." You say, releasing the grip you had on his hair. You walk over to a nearby counter and face your back towards it, leaning an elbow on it for support. Miguel follows you and stops in front of you. You look up at him and smirk, taking your hand to grab his chin again.

"Get on your knees." You command, feeling pride as you see him follow your orders. Miguel kneels in front of you, his eyes pleading with you for another order, the bulge in his pants already visible, your pussy throbbing at the sight of him.

"That's it baby." You coo, rubbing a hand across his cheek, traveling to the back of his neck as you begin to pull his head towards your cloth-covered core.

"Why don't you have a taste, honey? Show me how much you want it. I'm gonna make you earn your little treat Miguel."

He nods eagerly before running his tongue up the outside of your panties. You let out a soft groan as you feel his hot breath and teeth grazing the fabric covering your clit.

You keep one hand on the back of his head while the other still rests on the counter for support. He looks so pretty between your legs, eagerly sucking and licking at your heat. His hands stayed on his lap as he obediently looked up at you, searching for praise.

"Mmm, good boy honey~ That's very nice" You groan out, feeling the pool in your panties growing, mixing with Miguel's saliva. You decided that was enough teasing.

You pulled his head back, earning a couple pants from him as he caught his breath.

"Take them off." You state plainly, gesturing your gaze down to your panties.

"Yes Mommy." Miguel happily complies as he hooks a finger on either side of your panties and slowly pulls them down. You lift your legs to step out of them, feeling the cold air hit your warmth, reminding yourself how wet you are right now.

"Put em in your pocket. I'll let you keep those if you put them to good use." The idea of him whining your name as he jacked off into your panties only served to increase your arousal. It also seemed to excite Miguel too, who gladly shoved the precious material in his pocket with a polite. "Thank you mommy"

You chuckle as he looks back at you, beckoning him closer, you widen your stance so he could fully have access to you.

"You ready Miguel? You're gonna worship this pussy like it's your last meal you got that? You eat till I'm satisfied." You leaned back to get more support, in anticipation for what was to come.

Miguel nods his head before diving in. His tongue lapped feverishly at your folds, with long licks from bottom to top, stopping to suck on your clit every once in a while. His arms and hands wrapped around your thighs, squeezing the plump flesh as he pulled you into his face. You threw your head back in pleasure as your hands gripped at his hair, his desperate groans, muffled by your pussy sending shivers down your spine as his voice vibrated against you.

"Ah yes, fuck!" You moaned out. You didn't expect him to feel so good. A mixture of your wetness and his saliva dripped down your thighs as he continued to eat, lick, and suck on your pussy like a starved animal. Your hips bucking against his mouth as he worked.

"Ugh, Miguel! You good fucking boy, god! You're making me feel so good right now, fuck I'm so proud of you." Your legs began to shake as you felt yourself nearing your orgasm, having a hard time supporting your weight.

Miguel supported you in his arms, taking on some of the work that was standing for you. Hearing your words his tongue began to move more rapidly on your clit. Drawing circles on and flicking the sensitive bud, his glasses fogging up as he did so. He wanted nothing more than to make you feel good, to feel your legs shake as he drank every last drop of your cum.

"Yes baby just like that, you're doing so good." You groan, the knot in your stomach now impossibly tight. "Ah please Miguel! Use your fingers honey, I'm almost there. Mommy's gonna cum all over that pretty little face of yours." You bit your lip hard as you felt two of his large fingers enter you, earning a loud moan from your lips. Your noises of pleasure continued to fill the air as his thick digits curled inside of you, hitting that soft spot that was too hard to hit on your own.

With one more thrust of Miguel's fingers, you felt the knot in your core break. Squeezing the fists full of his hair you had, your body trembled as you rode out your orgasm, your hips bucking into his face and up and down on his fingers as you moaned.

Miguel lapped up every bit of your sweet nectar before taking his fingers out of you and cleaning them off as well. He sat there looking up at you, panting, looking so proud of himself, just waiting for your approval.

After taking a moment to catch your breath, you smile down at him lazily. You grab the back of his neck and place a passionate kiss on his lips, tasting yourself on him and savoring the flavor before pulling away.

"You did so good Miguel. I'm so proud of you." You say softly, looking lovingly into his eyes.

He perked up and smiled at you. He almost seemed like a little puppy, it was so adorable. "Thank you so much." He breathed out, taking his glasses off to clean them with his sweater.

You placed a sweet kiss on one of his cheeks before signaling for him to stand up. You walk over to the couch and he follows.

"Sit down Miguel. It's time for me to repay you."

[haravath0t]

Beautiful Stranger

(college au!alhaitham x f!reader - inspired by laufey’s “beautiful stranger”)

Alhaitham would be the type of man to double major. As a man that loves to see connectivity from the very root of things, he’d definitely be a History/Linguistics Major.

He’s definitely the type of man to just show up to classes and leave the minute the system says it should end. A lecture ends at 10:50 AM? He’ll be out the door the minute he sees his watch change numbers. If he finds his professor to be terrible on “rate my professor”? He’ll simply come on syllabus day and test days.

The man is busy! He surely would find a way to sustain himself. He’ll probably start off as a tutor in the student center to teach students within his majors. If there’s empty days, he’d surely be the type to simply catch up on his work.

His phone would be on “Do Not Disturb '' 90% of the time. The remaining 10% is due to an argument his roommate Kaveh strikes about not seeing emergency notifications. Not that taking off the mode would make a difference anyways. The only people actively contacting him are Kaveh or other classmates from pre-requisite classes like Tighnari or Cyno.

He practically graduates with perfect grades and a stellar GPA from undergrad. It’s almost astonishing how a man that’s rarely around manages to be graduating with Summa Cum Laude honors.

By the time he joins a master’s program, he’s seeming to be set on what he wants to do now. He doesn’t seem to enjoy tutoring all too much, so professor is out of the question. However, the idea of conservation and working on archives catches his interest. Preferably, a library preservation technician. Yes, a job with minimal communication, yet a close up look at documents that he has either studied or not? It seems almost ideal!

He has already found a path to graduating with a masters degree too, already having planned out how to tackle writing his thesis with ease unlike his peers. However, there’s been a string of inconveniences he’s been experiencing lately in his own place: Kaveh. Kaveh has been hammering away at making his own architectural models. While Alhaitham didn’t really see this as a dealbreaker of living conditions, he won’t deny how his precious sleep gets lost, even if his soundproof earpieces are on his ears.

Two weeks and no improvement, he decides to go against his usual decision making and decides to make a late night stop to the library of the university. He finds it to be easy enough; he lives quite near it, and certainly no one would be there. It’s almost perfect. He finds the floor with the study rooms, finding a desk with the outlets and sitting on it with what he considers a content look on his face. However, it’s when he takes a quick look around that he realizes that he’s not the only one. There’s you.

Now, you were definitely quite the sight. You were in the study room across his, the clear plexiglass separating you both. You two were technically facing each other, yet the laptops you two were typing away at were enough to cover most of what you two were doing. He saw you with a comfortable appearance of a sweatshirt and some sweats, your position on your chair quite comfortable as you hacked away at your own work. The only time he managed to fixate on your workspace was when he was deciding to stretch his arms. He took in all the formulas on your papers, all the charts and plots you’ve made, and the handwritten notes with long words and arrows between them. He saw the word “metabolic pathways” and deduced that you were a science major at the very least.

“Alright. Cool. Back to work.” He told himself. And he was working quite well. However, he wouldn’t lie, he found the way you studied to be quite amusing. He’s passed by a good amount of students in the library when he was tutoring. Some people were quiet and worked away, some people probably brought in food, some people even cried and slammed their laptops shut. However, you seemed to be in your own little world. You had your tablet being your own main source of brainstorming, you had your papers scattered by chapters, and you had brought some food for yourself and…coffee?

The sight of the huge cup slowly being drained by your constant sipping almost made him want to chuckle. Almost. His long fingers stayed idle as he watched you quietly mouthing the words to whatever song you had in your headphones, your head bopping along with the tune.

“Hmph.” He’d grunt, going back to his work. The next time he’d look up at you is when you went to tap him on the shoulder. “Excuse me?” A voice asks, making him take off an earpiece and look back. Sure enough, it’s “science lady”, as he has dubbed you. “Yes?” He asked. He wanted to look amiable enough for you to talk to him, but you saw his plain look on his face. He almost looked…unamused. You suddenly felt so embarrassed to disturb him at this ungodly hour. “Do you mind watching my stuff? I’m going to be using the bathroom.”

The question made him scoff before he realized: Why would he need to watch over it? Everyone looked like they’d be doing nothing of the sort, but still, seeing the look on your face made him realize it was an earnest question. And so, he decides to agree. Seeing your face brighten accompanied with an earnest thanks almost made him want to smile. Almost. He saw the way you briskly walked to the bathroom, which only amused him more.

The coffee only gets to you after how much you’ve been drinking it. Though, you couldn’t get over how cute this guy looked! Did he look kinda scary? Yeah, but you couldn’t deny that he looked quite cute. Though, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was because you were cooped in your research lab so much that you found anything amusing nowadays, including this mystery guy. Still, he had interesting eyes, you had to admit it. You liked his shaggy silver hair, the way he casually came in and seemed so fixated on his work. What a shame it might be a one time thing. Oh, how did this library crush become part of your thoughts so quickly while you washed your hands.

You thank him as you return to your seat with a little thumbs up, and he only sends you a little smile back. You would be lying if you said that the little curve at the edge of his lip made you wanna squeal. What you didn’t see was that his green eyes were staring at you as you sat down, waiting for you to see a particular item. And you saw it, alright. He can tell just by the raise of your brows and your wide eyes. It was right on your keyboard of the laptop, a paper torn out of the corner of his notebook. His penmanship was quite remarkable, and the contents of it amused you: “Maybe a little water would be more efficient than that coffee you’re chugging, no?”

Alhaitham practically was curious to see how you’d react. He could only gauge your reaction from your eyes, seeing your hand reach for a piece of paper before your head disappears behind the screen. He didn’t know what you were thinking either when you passed back a paper to him. It was a blank page which only contained your handwriting: “My water bottle actually spilled on my way here.” Next to it was a little sad face next to it.

Now, Alhaitham wasn’t prepared for that type of wholesome response. In fact, he’s surprised that it went as well as it did. He saw you practically scurry back to your studying table with a tiny smile on your face, your eyes back to focusing on work. However, it did not go without you making a little scene of taking yet another sip of your coffee from your large cup. It didn’t occur to him till you gave him a tiny smile that he was stealing glances your way a little too much. He was long done with his workload for the night, yet something bolted him to his seat. There was something that kept him in this crowd of procrastinating students.

Though, it’s clear that you were trying to be diligent despite your antics. He couldn’t deny that he found the way your lips pout as you concentrated on an endearing sight, or that you were the one he’s been oddly eyeing in this busy space. He was a bit let down seeing that you wouldn’t be looking his way for a while. You didn’t look at anything but your work until a push of a chair is heard, the tall man is seen making his way out. Your eyes carefully watch him with some sort of melancholy stirring in your heart, wishing he stayed longer, or that he wrote even just one more note to you.

Little did you know that as Alhaitham kicks off his shoes at his house’s foyer, he’s left thinking of a particular science girl chugging on coffee, clinging onto the post-it with a particular someone’s scribbles and sad face. Little did you know that the man was thinking of an excuse to visit the library tomorrow night, wondering if you’d be there.

[babybluebex]

𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 | 𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: dr. joseph quinn is set to speak at an important conference, and, of course, he invites you, his assistant, to come with him. after months of pining and flirting, what can go wrong when the hotel only books you one bed? part one of three 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: joseph quinn (professor!au) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: rpf (real person fiction), drinking, praise kink, smut (MINORS DNI): kissing, heavy petting 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: big thanks to @lunatictardis for her help with this fic! you're the best mea! also this was TOTALLY inspired by his professor vibes on day 3 of fanexpo nola hehe

“I’m really glad you asked me to come with you.” 

That roused Dr. Quinn out of his sleepy reading. The plane around you was pretty quiet, although gaining volume the imminent descent, but that didn’t stop Dr. Joseph Quinn from blinking blearily as he looked up from his pages of notes. He was set to lecture tomorrow morning, one of the opening lectures at a conference centered on English literature, and your professor— and boss— had insisted you come with him. 

“Well, of course,” Dr. Quinn said quickly. He often chastised you for calling him Dr. Quinn, always saying “Call me Joe, love”, but nothing ever felt as right as Doc. Sometimes, during quiet, appreciative moments, you would call him Joseph, but Joe was a far-fetched dream. “You’re my assistant, I’d be crazy not to bring you.” 

“But I’m just your TA,” you rebutted. “I’m not, like, a personal assistant or anything.” 

“Eh,” Joseph shrugged. “Close enough.”

“But I’m glad you asked me,” you continued. It had taken a lot of convincing from him for you to even come— “it’s over Christmas holiday, so you won’t be missing any classes; the university will pay for airfare and the hotel; you have nothing to worry about, other than being there for me.”— but, in the end, you were being honest. “It’s the chance of a lifetime. I’m excited.” 

“I’m glad you think so,” Joseph said. He groaned and rolled his neck and began to pack up his notes, sliding them into a pocket of his briefcase, and he mumbled, “I cannot wait for this bed. My back hurts from these damn seats.” 

“Oh, yeah,” you groaned. The plane seats were less than optimal, and you chewed on your bottom lip. “And you booked us two rooms?” 

“The university did,” Joseph said, peering at you from over his glasses. “So, if anything is fucked up, blame them.” 

“I will,” you smiled. An ugly feeling persisted in your gut, though— something would go wrong, you were sure of it. You always had had a good intuition, and that sinking feeling was present as the intercom binged on and announced your arrival in London, far from your home. 

There was a car waiting for you at the airport and, after getting your luggage, you squeezed in next to Joseph and gave him a tired smile. You were both exhausted from a long day of traveling, and you were just as much looking forward to the bed as he was. Maybe a hot shower, or even a bath, if your room had a bathtub. 

You tailed behind Joseph as he entered the hotel once the car delivered you, and he gave the woman at the front desk a good-natured smile. Your boss was handsome, there was no denying it. He was so handsome that, if he wanted to be a movie star, he could have been. Instead, he had chosen to teach English literature, and, because of his— albeit short but prosperous— career, he had been asked to attend the conference and give a lecture on tragedies, something he had studied throughout his entire academic career. 

“Hello there,” Joseph said to the receptionist. “Um, I have a reservation under the name Quinn.” 

“Mr. Quinn,” the receptionist repeated, and she clicked on her computer for a moment. “Ah, yes, I see you— one room, king bed?”

“Oh, goodness.” 

Oh goodness, indeed. 

“No, no, there’s been a mistake,” your boss said quickly, pushing his glasses up on his nose. He looked suddenly distraught, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to understand the snafu. “There were supposed to be two rooms, one for me and one for my assistant.” He gestured at you, and your grip on the handle of your suitcase tightened. 

You knew it. Your gut had told you once again that something would go wrong, and it had. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” the receptionist said. “We don’t have any other rooms; we’re all booked up for the conference. There’s a sleeper sofa in the room?” 

Joseph clenched his back teeth and looked over his shoulder at you, and you shrugged. “I’ll be fine, sir,” you told him. “It’s just for two nights.” 

“Yeah, but…” Joseph started, and he turned back to the receptionist. “There’s truly nothing you can do?”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “We’re all booked up.” 

Joseph sighed, his thumb tapping on the handle of his luggage. “It’s alright,” he said. “Thank you, darling.” He took the keycards from the receptionist’s waiting hand and slipped them into the pocket of his slacks, and he looked at you. “After you, love,” he said, and you sighed as you started out of the lobby, in search of the elevators. 

Joseph only spoke again once you were alone in the elevator. “I’m really sorry,” he said. 

You shrugged. “It’s out of your control,” you told him. “I’m not upset.” 

“Are you sure?” Joseph asked. “Because it’s okay if you are. I’ll take the sofa, you can have the bed.” 

“Oh, God, no,” you said quickly. “No, sir, this is your conference, you’re gonna be working all weekend, you deserve the bed.” 

“But I can’t just let you sleep on the sofa,” Joseph said. Behind his glasses, his eyes were big, dark as night and wide as he pleaded with you. “Please, take the bed, it’ll make me feel better.” 

The elevator dinged up to the fifth floor, and you took the charge, leading Joseph to room 525, the one that the receptionist had identified as yours. 

You waited for Joseph to unlock the door, and the familiar smell of hotel room filled your nose as the door opened. The air was stale but clean, and you peered inside to see the one big, white-clothed bed, the indicated sleeper sofa under the window on the opposite side of the room. It looked uncomfortable, and you took a seat on it as Joseph settled his luggage next to it. The springs squeaked underneath you, and you frowned wider as you looked at it and realized that it was, in fact, not a sleeper sofa. It was just a regular couch, one hardly big enough to fit you, let alone Joseph. “This isn’t…” you started, but sighed instead. “I knew I had a bad feeling about this trip.” 

“Hey, don’t say that,” Joseph said with a scowl. “We’ll get this sorted out and everything will be alright. Maybe somebody will cancel a room and we can get it.” 

“I know,” you mumbled. “But, God, I just… Sorry. In a bad mood.” 

Joseph’s frown grew, and he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly. He had always been like this, very tactile and sweet with you, but never crossing boundaries. You could tell that he truly appreciated your work as his TA, grading papers for him and sometimes leading class if he asked for you to, and he was always very thankful for you, sending you flowers and buying you coffee all the time. “Dr. Quinn, you know other professors don’t treat their TAs like this,” you had tried to tell him once, but he had just smiled at you. “I know,” he had responded with that movie star smile. “But other professors don’t appreciate their TAs the way I do you.” 

Sometimes you wondered if there was more than met the eye with your boss, but there would be no avenue to explore that; he was your boss. Before he was your boss, he was your professor. It would be unprofessional at the very least and, if you were caught, you would lose your job (and likely your scholarships) and Joseph would more than likely be asked to leave the university. So, all of the lingering touches of his hand to yours and laughs shared over dinners would have to be relegated back into nothingness— no feelings, no actions, nothing. 

“What can I do to fix this?” Joseph asked, his eyes a little wet as he looked at you. “I just hate seeing you so upset.” 

“Maybe…” you started, chewing on your bottom lip. You were dehydrated from the flight, and your skin was dry, and you sighed. “Maybe we could share the bed? It’s big enough for both of us, and if we put, like, a pillow barrier in the middle…?”

“Oh, love,” Joseph said softly. “You know we can’t do that.” 

“Who has to know?” you asked. “If we don’t tell anybody…” 

You almost worried that you had offended him, with the way his silence stretched on and on, but the wrinkle between his eyebrows told you that he was legitimately thinking about it. “Let’s talk about it more tonight,” Joseph said finally. “After dinner, yeah?” 

“Alright,” you agreed. The way he didn’t immediately say no lifted your spirits slightly, and you stood up, brushing dust off of your skirt. “What’s for dinner?” 

Joseph smiled at you, his movie star smile that made your legs nearly buckle, and he slotted his hand with yours. “Whatever you’d like.”

Dinner ended up being down in the hotel restaurant. It was a little busy, but you and Joseph managed to find a table for the two of you, nestled into the back corner. You almost preferred it that way, secluded and apart from everyone else. You and Joseph were used to dinner together— he often would order take-away to his office while you were helping grade essays, and you always would end up abandoning the essays and talking together— but never anything like this. The candlelight made everything feel intimate, like it was almost a date. 

“Wine?” Joseph asked, looking down at the menu in his hands. He still wore the clothes he had worn on the plane, slacks and butter-yellow shirt, his hair messy and his glasses perched just so on his nose, and he looked exhausted, but he was the usual ball of composed energy that he always was. 

You shrugged. “I don’t really like wine,” you told him. “But if you want some, go for it.” 

“Don’t like wine?” Joseph repeated, his eyes playfully narrowing at you. “What sort of academic are you?” 

“I just don’t!” you giggled. “Unless it’s really good. I just don’t like anything that’s bitter.” 

“What the fuck…?” Joseph grumbled, turning the menu over to see the wine list on the back. You laughed, and his smile betrayed his grumpy attitude. “Don’t like wine, I don’t believe you for one second.” 

“I just don’t like the way it makes me feel,” you told him, side-stepping the real reason you didn’t want to drink wine around him. It made you feel easy and loose, in a way that you probably shouldn’t be around your crush-slash-boss. You settled on a better reason: “It makes me feel like garbage the next morning.” 

“Well, we don’t want that, do we?” Joseph asked. “I’m gonna order a red, but if you want something else, tell me.” 

“Should we be drinking right now?” you asked teasingly. “We’re technically working.” 

“Ah, live a little,” Joseph shrugged. “We’re not at work right now. If we were at a lecture or a panel, that would be different.” 

Live a little. Sure. “Order me a glass too,” you told him. “Let’s drink a toast.” 

“To?” Joseph asked, tilting his head curiously. 

“Getting through one hell of a semester,” you said. “And to give us strength for the next one.” 

“Hear, hear,” Joseph said with a smile. 

Once you had the wine in your hands, you found yourself becoming less uptight. Your shoulders relaxed, and you settled your arms on the table as you leaned forward and listened to Joseph prattle on about the lecture he had to give tomorrow morning. “I’m honestly nervous,” he said, rotating his glass around and watching the wine move with it. It was a dark red drink, something that made the corners of your mouth curl with its sour, dry bitterness, but the warmth that grew in your chest made you keep drinking it. “I’ve never been nervous to teach before, but this is so different.” 

“It’s a different crowd,” you told him. “It’s not students this time, it’s other educators. Just think about it like you’re sharing something cool with your friends, don’t think of it as a lecture, exactly.” 

Joseph looked at his wine glass, then at you, and a small smile crossed his lips. “What would I do without you?” he asked, leaning closer to you. 

“You’d be way behind on grading,” you giggled, and Joseph smiled wider. “I don’t know, sir. I really like working for you. You’re just awesome, so I’m glad that you like me.” 

“Aw,” Joseph said. “How could I not like you? You’re so kind and funny, and you’re… Really gorgeous. I like looking up from my grading and seeing you sitting on the couch in my office, working on your own schoolwork. You always get this-this look on your face, like you’re thinking so hard— a little wrinkle between your eyebrows.”

“You do the same thing,” you told him. “I must’ve picked it up from you.” You sipped at the wine, frowning at the bitter taste again, and Joseph took notice. 

“You don’t have to drink that,” Joseph told you gently. “I can order you something else.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” you told him quickly. “I just… I just like spending time with you.” 

“Really?” Joseph asked. He seemed taken aback by the topic change— maybe by the content of the topic change itself— but a flush under his beard told you all that you needed to know; he was flattered. “I like spending time with you too.” 

He inched closer to you still, close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his chest, and you moved closer to him too. Your knee touched his, but neither of you made any movements to stop it— instead, Joseph let his hand touch your leg, his thumb soothing up and down your knee. 

“I just like you,” you told him. Your hand drifted down to his hand, grasping his fingers, and Joseph raised his big brown eyes to your face, watching your lips as you sipped at your wine again. 

“This is a bad thing we’re doing,” Joseph said softly, shaking his head gently. “You should tell me to stop.” 

“Stop what?” you asked. “I like it a lot. What if I want you to do more?” 

“You’re asking for trouble,” Joseph said quickly, his grip tightening on your knee. 

“What if I like trouble?” you asked. 

That struck your boss silent, and he leaned back for a moment, watching you with his owlish eyes. “The bed,” he started, and you deflated. Of course he would stop it before it got good. “I’m more than happy to take the couch, I’m telling you. We don’t have to share or anything.” 

“It’s big enough to fit both of us,” you said. “Dr. Quinn, please, I know what I’m doing.” 

“I don’t think you do,” Joseph said flatly. “Because you keep looking at me like that, and you won’t call me by my first name, and you’re practically begging me to share a bed with you, you have no idea what you're doing to me.” 

“Oh,” you said softly. “Docto… Joseph. I’m not trying to… I don’t know, seduce you or anything.” 

“But you are,” Joseph said. “But I’m not upset about it. In fact, I like it. It’s been a while since anyone’s tried to seduce me, and, darling, it’s lovely to be seduced.” 

You were taken aback. You truly weren’t trying to do anything, and the fact that you had an effect on him made your head spin. Maybe it was the wine. You took another drink as you watched Joseph, his hand still on your leg, his lips looking perfectly plump and soft, and you whispered, “You’re drunk.” 

“No,” Joseph said. “I’ve had one glass of wine.” 

“You’re not exactly sober,” you battled. “We shouldn’t do anything if we’re both not sober.” 

“I’ve waited for half a year,” Joseph shrugged, swirling his wine around in his glass again. “I can wait one more night.” 

“Can you?” you asked. “‘Cause… ‘Cause I’m not sure I wanna wait anymore.” 

“Pardon?” Joseph asked, his face going pale. 

“Kiss me, Joseph,” you told him. “Please, I’ve been waiting too long—“

Joseph took your face in his hands, fingers grasping your chin as he drew you into his warm body, and he kissed you. Finally, it felt as if a whole semester of pining was being brought out, and fireworks exploded in your belly. His mouth was juicy and warm, his tongue soft as he slid it into your mouth, and you eagerly kissed him back as your hands grasped at the lapels of his shirt. 

When the kiss broke, you frowned. You weren’t quite ready yet, and you started to chase Joseph back into a kiss, and he placated you with a quick peck. “I’ll give you all you want,” he whispered, his accent curling in your ears and making you dizzy. “Let’s get back to the room first.” 

The journey back to the room was torturous. You held onto his hand as you waited in the elevator bay, and you couldn’t help your giggles when he tugged you close into his body, chest to chest. “You’re so beautiful,” Joseph whispered. “How I managed to wait so long, I’ll never know.” 

“To be fair, we’ve never gotten drunk together before,” you said, and Joseph jokingly rolled his eyes. 

“We’re not drunk,” he said pointedly. “We had one glass of wine each, that’s hardly even tipsy.” 

“Mhm,” you nodded jokingly, and Joseph rolled his eyes. 

“Fuck off,” he scoffed. “See if I make love to you now.” 

“Ooh, you wanna make love to me?” you giggled. “You’re such a romantic, I figured you’d just wanna fuck and then leave.”

“First of all, where would I go?” Joseph chuckled. “We only have one room. Second of all… Do other guys treat you that way?” 

“I mean…” you started. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, and you and Joseph stepped inside as you contemplated your words. “Not all guys. But enough for it to be a habit.” 

Joseph cooed softly, drawing you into his body, and he softly kissed your cheek, his beard nestling just right into your skin. “I won’t treat you that way,” he said. “I’m a grown man, I won’t just abandon you at the slightest provocation. All those boys, they didn’t know what a good thing they had.” 

“And you do?” you asked. “You think I’m a good thing?”

“I know you’re a good thing,” Joseph said with a softness to his voice that only made you sure that he was being honest. “It’s like I’ve always told you, you are beautiful—” he paused to press a kiss to your forehead, “And you’re funny—” Another kiss to your cheek, “And you’re a proper good time. I’ve wanted this since I met you.” 

“Really?” you asked. “B-But I was your student back when we first met.” 

Joseph shrugged. “Can you blame me?” he asked. The elevator dinged again, opening up on your floor, and he took your hand, leading you back to the room. Your tummy was doing flips as you walked, getting closer and closer to that bed, and you attached your lips to his neck as he fumbled in his pants for the keycard. “Fuck, love,” he whispered, turning his head a bit to expose his neck to you even more. 

“Hurry up,” you giggled, and you gently bit his neck as Joseph finally found the keycard in his pocket, and he rushed to unlock the door. He tugged you in with little decorum and, once the door was shut, he pressed you up against it and kissed you.

This kiss wasn’t like the one you had shared downstairs. No, this one was hungrier, his tongue dominating your mouth and licking your lips as his hands grabbed at you. He pressed his knee between your thighs and opened up your legs, letting his thigh slot between yours, and you tugged at his curls as you moaned softly. “Fuck,” Joseph whispered, his teeth scraping your bottom lip. “You sound so pretty.” 

“You do too,” you told him. 

“You haven’t heard me moan yet,” Joseph said softly, and you smiled, chasing him back to you with a quick kiss. 

“No,” you said against his lips. “But your voice…” 

“You like listening to me talk?” Joseph asked, and you nodded. “Oh, my girl… I’ll never shut up around you now.” 

“As if you ever did in the first place,” you giggled, and Joseph smiled. 

“True,” he said. “When I have to talk for a living, that doesn’t make it easy to shut up.” 

“How ‘bout you shut up now, and fuck me?” you asked, grinding your hips down onto his thigh, and you gasped. You could feel his hard erection through his trousers, resting pretty on his thigh, threatening to bust out of the zipper; he was big, and your tummy resumed its excited flips. 

Joseph hummed contently, and he grabbed hard at your hips. You loved the juxtaposition of him, being so soft and treating you so gently, but touching you so roughly. His words were one thing, and his movements were another, and you bit your lip as Joseph shucked off his big wool coat and let it fall to the floor. “C’mere,” he mumbled and led you to the bed, laying you out and letting you feel the softness of the covers. You took some of it up in your fists and sighed softly, and Joseph’s hands went for your skirt, popping the button on the side and shucking it down your legs. 

You worked to take off your coat and blouse and, soon enough, you were left in your bra and panties. Joseph grinned as he looked down at you, his big hands sliding up and down your body to feel every inch of you, and you writhed as you tried to get his hands exactly where you wanted them. “Where do you want me?” Joseph asked softly. “Tell me, my darling, I’ll do anything you want me to.” 

“Want you everywhere,” you told him, pulling him back into a kiss. Your hands, although shaking, went to his butter-yellow shirt and started to unbutton it, only getting about halfway down his belly before he distracted you with kisses on your neck. “Fuck!” you gasped. “Joseph!” 

“That’s it, darling,” he whispered. “Call out my name, let everyone know who’s making you feel this way.” 

“Are you gonna fuck me?” you asked. 

“No, darling,” Joseph told you. “I’m going to make love to you. Show you exactly what I’ve been wanting all this time.” 

His kisses trailed down your body, his hands deftly ridding you of your bra before his lips attached to your pebbled nipple, sucking on it gently, just enough to make you whimper and moan. “Yes, yes,” Joseph whispered. His lips made messy kisses all over your tits, littering you with reverence, and he said, “Out with it, darling— you wanna say something, so say it.” 

“Nothing,” you lied. You did want to say something to him, you wanted to say a lot to him, but you couldn’t find the words to express what you were feeling. Your heart was racing and your palms felt sweaty, and you clutched his shoulder as he hungrily captured your lips. You moaned softly at him, anxiety and nerves overtaking you and forcing your silence, and Joseph broke the kiss to remove his glasses and shove them on the bedside table. 

“S’not nothing,” Joseph said firmly. “Something’s going on. Do you not want this?” 

“No!” you exclaimed. “I mean, yes! I mean— Fuck, I want this, I’ve wanted this for a long time, but—” 

“Fuck,” Joseph whispered. “I know we shouldn’t, I know it’s against the rules, but, darling, I just can’t—“ 

“No, no, Joey,” you said quickly, pressing your hands to his chest. He softened at the nickname, and you slowly started to unbutton his shirt. “Listen to me. I’m just… I’m not on birth control, and I’m fairly certain you didn’t bring any condoms to an academic conference.” 

“So I’ll pull out,” Joseph shrugged. 

“But I don’t want you to,” you told him. You looked him deep in his chocolate eyes, holding his chin in your hand, and you touched your forehead to his. “I want you to claim me. Make me your girl.” 

“Fuck, you can’t talk to me like that,” Joseph chuckled. “You’ll make me bust in my trousers.” 

“How long has it been for you?” you asked. 

“Honestly?” Joseph started. “A long time. Since I was your age.” 

“As if we have that big of an age gap,” you giggled. 

“But still,” Joseph said. “I wanna do right by you, and if pulling out is what happens—“ 

“But I don’t want that,” you told him firmly. “I want you to cum inside me. I need it.” 

“Jesus,” Joseph laughed. “You’re so sexy, did you know that?” 

“Says you,” you retaliated, and you grabbed a fistful of his curls and tugged him into a messy kiss, mouth open and tongues dancing. “God, Joey, you’re so fucking sexy, I’ve wanted you for so long.” 

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Joseph said. His hands joined yours in undressing him, and you kissed his freckles shoulders and chest as he became available to you. Nothing was enough, and you wrapped your legs right around his waist and kissed his neck. He wasn’t built, but you knew how strong he was, and you smiled into his mouth as his arms greedily wrapped around you and smoothed down your back. His chest was warm against your tits, and you whimpered as his hands fell from your back and went to his belt. 

There was really no going back now…

-

taglist (add yourself to my taglist):

@hazzaismyreligion, @sw34terw34ther, @bowersbubbles, @maciiiofficial, @cinnamoncunt, @hb8301, @eddiethesexy, @ultimate-sdmn-trash @floweredanxiety, @kaylenraye07, @theoneandlaurie, @stacylowell, @moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown, @trinsghost, @jcbbby, @harley1608, @stardancerluv, @choke-me-joey, @adowablekontent, @hauntingbastille, @goatsmcgee, @fxirybubble, @meusvenator, @ajkamins, @avidanadvocacy

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

my favorite mulder moments from s3

when he’s dead in episode 1, in the afterlife being urged to return to his body, and it is only only hearing that his sister isn’t there which convinces him to come back to life (we can analyze this for years and we should!)

after their narrow escape from the disease center in episode 2, skinner asks what mulder could possibly hope to find in his wildest dreams. his answer: “why they killed my father. and what happened to my sister. and what they did to agent scully” which pretty much proved that she is part of his family to him <3 and he just wants to protect his family and keep everybody safe... i'll cry

and despite how badly he wanted the truth and was willing to risk it all, he agreed to turn the tape they had nearly died over so they could come out of hiding, so scully could see if her sister was okay (AUGHHH putting his life's ambition on hold for her...)

(this is more to do with behind the scenes stuff, but there’s a little moment in episode 7 where his hair is all messed up, and then in the very next shot it’s all fixed again, and i thought it was so funny to see, because you could tell he got retouched between takes)

in that same episode there’s also a moment where he keeps replaying a mysterious noise over and over again. scully asks if he has found anything, and he replies “no, but i’m really beginning to like the tape” with a big goofy smile <3

in episode 9, he has his office set up like a movie theater, with his feet tossed up on on the desk. he is SO excited to show scully the alien autopsy video he ordered from a magazine for $29.95!!!

then he comments that “it’s widely held that aliens don’t have blood, scully” with great seriousness which had me LOSING it. yes of course, mulder, she CLEARLY should have known!

(later in that episode, skinner comes down to scold them, and asks why they’re even in pennsylvania, to which he says that they’re here on a “video piracy case” <- LMAOOOO least convincing lie ever told)

also in episode 9: his line “you think believing is easy?” followed by letting that sit for a bit, exploring the tensions and implications- how hard it is for mulder to keep the faith that there are answers in this world, and perhaps even justice to go along with them. how it doesn’t come as naturally to him as you may think, it’s about hope and protecting your loved ones and doing whatever it takes, killing or dying, to learn the Truth, because the Truth is hope

(at this point in taking notes, i proceeded to ramble on for like a paragraph with Intense Emotions, and even talking about this episode again is making me want to go on a lecture tour about how fantastic it was)

in episode 10, a passenger on the train with her child sees the dead body of a doctor and screams. mulder pivots, tells the woman that the doctor is just sick, smiles, and ruffles the kid’s hair

(he ruffles another kid’s hair in episode 23… don’t think i didn’t notice)

angrily quoting scripture in episode 11

(and he also says he considers the bible to be poetry rather than a literal history in this one, which i think is fascinating)

sitting in his car, watching the night sky in episode 12, when he asks over the phone: “look scully, i know it’s not your inclination, but did you ever look up into the night sky and feel certain that not only was something up there, but it was looking down at you at the exact same moment, and was just as curious about you as you are about it?” goshhh what a wonderful way to see the world... a universe of mutual curiosity with answers that can be found if only you are dedicated enough to hunt for them

dr. ivanov’s little bug robot liking mulder and following him around <3 someone pls get him a cat!!

AND that episode wrapup: “the development of our cerebral cortex has been the greatest achievement of the evolutionary processes. big deal.” <- it had me absolutely giggling… as a profiler and student of the human brain, it really IS a big deal!! he knows that!! but he was so angry about how it all went down his bitterness won that day lmaooo

(BUT ALSO: he wakes up in his JEANS in this episode??? what kind of dude SLEEPS in his JEANS... we need to launch a full federal investigation)

when he tries to call to the kitty in episode 14 <3

and then he goes to the library to read up on gargoyles, but he was pulling so many all-nighters that he just straight up fell asleep on the table, and it was So Cute

in episode 15, he knows that "ronin" is the term for a samurai without a master, which made me laugh (and he claims he knows it from watching samurai movies… nerd!)

when he hops into an empty grave in episode 19 and starts digging with his hands while someone yells “what the hell is he doing!” and scully watches, knowing that is the sort of behavior he is just hardwired to do

mulder (possibly) eating an entire sweet potato pie in episode 20. narrative-wise we shall never know the truth.

how intensely attached he is to skinner being revealed in episode 21; how he believes whole-heartedly that he is innocent even when all of the evidence is against him. how when skinner dismisses his case as none of their business mulder counters with "of course it is", as if there was no other option. how he listens to skinner’s stories of terror in vietnam. how he is disappointed skinner won’t tell him what really happened that night. if you want to cry, go watch that scene where he leaves skinner's office realizing he won't talk about it. it made me emotional.

(he also pulls a giant book off his shelf in that episode and flips to the page talking about succubi, which makes me wonder what other kinds of literature he keeps in his office, pls let me come browse)

((there is also a moment where he gets really angry and pushes his jacket back with his hands on his hips and i swear my heart nearly stopped))

episode 22’s “i know the difference between expectation and hope. seek and you shall find, scully” it's just SO good and so Him

when he visits her motel room in episode 23 and gets all cozied up on her couch to talk case theories... i was giggling!!!

how he tries so hard to be brave and hold it together when she is missing in that one, too- calling her mother to check where she is, apologizing for disturbing mrs. scully because he knows how intense this must be for her after everything her daughter has gone through, bouncing his basketball in his apartment to keep himself moving, how he tells the lone gunmen with an even voice that she isn’t okay when he needs to go ID a body, and how he kicks the door of the man who got them involved with this case, forgoing answers for her. ripping my hair out from all my emotions btw.

mulder being convinced that he could talk scully back into her senses even after she shot at him (!!!) and refusing to accept her mother’s answers that she wasn’t at her home

when he visits scully in the hospital after her wavelength-induced psychosis, he enters the room with his hands up, jokingly surrendering after she had held him at gunpoint. because he cannot be serious ever, and he Needs to make a joke and lighten the mood, to try and make her feel comfortable. 

AND how he turns the TV off when he enters, knowing what the TV did to get her there. and how he leaves after a while, whispering “why don’t you try and get some rest?” on the way out, so scared to have seen her like that, wanting to give her all the time she needs to recover <3

in the finale he sits by his mom in her hospital bed; he holds her hand, notices she is cold and covers her with a blanket (gosh that one made me inconsolable- scully was talking to him and he couldn't even respond, because his mom was cold, and he needed to fix that, to make her comfortable)

he touches her hair and whispers “mom”, and smiles at her when she opens her eyes, saying everything is going to be okay; then later, he’s crying as he holds her hand to his cheek, and i’m crying too

and when they go to meet up with “jeremiah smith” later, he makes scully get behind him, holding the only weapon that could kill jeremiah in his hands and standing in front of her to keep her safe