#that pub has been there for years too i remember the first time i saw it in 2019! and thinking huh that’s a go reference lmao

[goldenblueomens]

now that i’m officially moved out of the city i feel safe posting the fact that i have been tormented my entire time living here by these two establishments 😩

(photos are from online, i couldn’t get one of the tattoo place but that’s what it was like before it opened last year. i genuinely did a double take in the street the first time i saw it)

[pshaven]

NUDES I CAN'T SEND park sunghoon ౨ৎ

synopsis! after a drunken night of events you can’t remember, you find a park sunghoon at your front door with apologies you thought you’d never hear.

wc! 6.4k+

cw! angst (sawry..), toxic!sunghoon kinda, ex!sunghoon, jealous/possessive!heeseung makes an appearance, reader sent nudes while drunk, dom!sunghoon, he's handsy, dirty talk, pnv, oral (f!receiving), riding, no protection mentioned, sunghoon calls reader baby, sweet girl, multiple orgasms, not really much aftercare mentioned, ningning from aespa mentioned

previous > next > break the skin mlst

as your best friend, jay’s approval is almost as meaningful as your own parents.

so during a night out at your guys’ usual hanging pub with a couple of your friends, including your new boyfriend of two weeks, sunghoon, jay gave you an encouraging smile, “i’m glad you two found each other.” 

right then and there— you knew it. sunghoon was your one and only, it would be detrimental to lose him, especially after jay expressed his happiness towards the two of you. 

and one of the biggest bonuses, unlike your past relationships, sunghoon doesn’t care about you being best friends with jay. he’s understanding, takes his time to know jay as well, disregarding your close friendship with another man. 

you always saw yourself as a lucky girl to have sunghoon by your side. sunghoon who stayed up late with you, helping you study for a class he’s never even took. sunghoon who found you sitting in the corner of the library alone, your textbook papers wrinkled and dried up tear stains on them. sunghoon who has the most handsomest smile you’ve ever laid eyes upon in your whole life… 

to think you lost someone that special makes your heart ache.

jay struggled badly with trying to keep your spirits up, and all your girl friends did their best to drag you out of your room to do even the most miniscule things in effort to get your mind off the breakup. 

two weeks turned into two months, then one year, then two years. it seemed as if nothing has changed. you’re still happy, right? sunghoon still makes you happy. but you’ve never had to question if you made him happy. you suppose— that was perhaps the first crack in your relationship. 

then, everything felt so.. stagnant. almost boring, having done everything together until there was nothing else left to do. you think both of you were starting to feel the same way. perhaps the two of you were at different stages in life.

“what do you wanna eat for dinner?” you asked, sitting on the couch with your legs crossed as the both of you channel surf. 

“i’m fine with anything, you can pick.” 

you shrugged, “i’m okay with anything too.”

you didn’t think it’d be the final crack until everything shattered. 

his brows furrowed, and you could almost see the agitated vein on his temple. “you’re okay with everything, as always,” he says, tone laced in sarcasm as a scoff left his lips.

you felt your eye twitch. “what was that?” 

for a long time, and maybe even the first, a big fight broke out between the two of you. it quickly became a shouting match, fueled with hurtful words that neither of you truly meant. 

“aren’t you tired?!” sunghoon sighed exasperatedly, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair. you felt tears welling up in your eyes— it’d been so long since you last cried ever since you met sunghoon. you’d never think he’d be the reason for your tears. 

“no? what are you talking about?!” you argued back, but your voice was starting to lose its fight. “i-i don’t know what to do.. are you unhappy with me?” 

sunghoon couldn’t look at you. 

“i…” 

his hesitance said it all. 

“you should have said something sooner… th-then maybe we wouldn’t be here right now,” you mumble quietly, chewing on the inside of your cheek to will your tears from falling. 

“but i want to be with you still!” sunghoon pleaded, quickly rushing to you as he placed his hands on your shoulders, his grip tight as if you were about to leave. 

you don’t have the willpower to leave. 

“you want to be with me… but you aren’t happy with me,” you frowned deeply, your head hanging down as you stare at your feet. 

“i-i’ll try… i want to be happy with you. i need t-to…” he choked on his own words, his mind reeling for the right words to say. 

you sniffle, and sunghoon feels his entire world shatter to pieces when you rest your forehead against his chest. “you should go…” 

you’re joking— he thought. no tears were daring to roll down your cheeks, and that he knows is when you’re putting up an act. 

he put up a fight. you don’t actually want him to leave, do you? but then you’re balling your fists up against his shirt, tugging on the fabric. “i don’t wanna— i can’t.. be the reason why you hold yourself back.”

so then what? what was he supposed to do when you seem so desperate to let him go, let him walk out your life? it hurt like a bitch, and the reason for your tears being because of him made it a little easier to leave. in his thought process, he thought you’d stop crying because of him. then maybe, in a week or two, you’ll call him again.

but that call never came.

sunghoon waited months for your contact to pop up on his screen, but by the third month, he unwillingly had to let you go. he was angry– sure… maybe it did sound like a real breakup but he thought it was just a hiccup, a bump in the road, like what most couples have. but it wasn’t, and he was frustrated that you seemed to let him go so easily. 

he couldn’t.

sneaky texts to your close friends, even jay, to ask how you’re doing. if you’re doing okay. the only one who was really honest with him, the only one who didn’t tell sunghoon that you’re “doing just fine, don’t worry about it” was jay. jay, albeit hesitant to do this behind your back, he knew how much sunghoon meant to you, and seeing your defeated expression everyday wasn’t exactly ideal for him. 

“she’s not doing well… can barely get her out the house,” jay had said over the phone to sunghoon, the former letting out a sigh. sunghoon said nothing back. “you.. you should probably move on too. this isn’t healthy for the both of you.” 

sunghoon agreed, then quickly hung up. 

like hell he would be able to move on from you.

“ning? ningninggg~” you slur, eyes squinted to look for your friend, clumsily tripping over some other drunken people’s feet. you’re mindlessly searching around the cramped living room for her until you spot the brunette out in the crowd. 

“y/n, where have you been! i’ve been asking everyone where you went,” she frowns with worry, rubbing your arms that are warm already from the alcohol in your bloodstream. you give her a cheeky smile, leaning your head on her chest as you sway her around drunkenly. 

she laughs at you warmly, playing with your hair as she lets you do whatever for a few minutes until you jump suddenly, grabbing both her shoulders, “i should text him.” 

her brow only raises, “text…who?” her voice slightly teasing, knowing your past nights with a certain roommate and classmate. but then her eyes widen when she realizes who you really meant, and she shakes her head immediately. “no! absolutely not, y/n! give me that fucking phone right now, i swear to god,” she yells at you, but you’re already bolting away from her with your phone in the air. 

ningning chases you down, gaining stares but you’re too out of it to care and ningning is too busy running after you. you fall over a group of randoms sitting on the couch, and ningning is left to apologize for you. “i am… so, so sorry…” she mumbles, quickly snatching your phone as you recover and putting it in her pocket. “my dear y/n, please get up so we can just go back home. i don’t know if i can bare anymore embarrassment.” 

safe to say, she dragged you back into her home and forced you to drink water despite your lazy denial of i don’t need it! and i’m totally okay! 

you shift around in the bed, a groan escaping your lips when you feel someone tugging at your arm. “y/n,” ningning shout-whispers, knowing your hangover is probably killing you. you groan again in response, shaking your head and mumbling something around the lines of “five more minutes, mom”. 

she rolls her eyes at you, sighing before placing the glass of water down on her bedside table. “i gotta get to class. please drink this water and gatorade here before you leave. i better come back to no throw up on my carpet.” she tells you, albeit knowing that you’re only half listening and are going to forget everything she said ten minutes later. 

you do get up eventually.. two hours later. you drink the water and take the gatorade with you before cleaning up her room that ningning so graciously let you sleep in. you take an uber back to your shared apartment with heeseung, trudging lazily up the stairs and hallway of your complex. you insert your key to only find that the door is left unlocked, and you frown, ready to scold your roommate of his bad habit of not locking the door. 

“heeseung–!” you yell, stepping inside but you’re not met with your roommate’s face. instead, your questionable ex stands by the couch, in front of you. 

your jaw wants to drop, your eyes want to widen, you want to scream profanities and maybe cry in your room later. but you somehow can’t, and you stare at him blankly. 

“y/n!” your name is called, but with two different voices– your ex and your roommate. heeseung comes running out of the hallway, in which you assume he was in the bathroom earlier when you had just gotten home. 

sunghoon turns his head to look at heeseung, his brows furrowed and a look of disdain on his face. you choose not to question it, knowing the expression he’s wearing all too well, so you move your attention to heeseung. 

“what?” you ask, taking a step towards him as he gestures for you to go with him into the hall with a tilt of his head. you follow, exchanging a quick glance at sunghoon with your lips pursed into a line. 

“what is he doing here?” you whisper, rubbing your temple as the pounding hangover begins to subside, but you think it’s about to come back sooner after seeing your ex in your living room. 

heeseung rubs the nape of his neck, biting the inside of his cheek as he thinks of a reasonable explanation. he doesn’t know much about you and sunghoon, and he actually had only learned that he was your ex this morning. “uhmm… he showed up this morning.. and i was coming back from a class and he was just sitting out in the hall. he saw me approach the door and asked if you lived here. i then asked him, who are you, ‘cause i didn’t wanna give out your info! and then he said that he was your ex?? i didn’t even know you had one…” he rambles, mumbling the last part to himself but it doesn’t escape your ears. 

you huff, slapping his arm, earning you an ouch! from him. “what the hell! so you knew he’s my ex and you still let him in?! you are a horrible roommate!” you scold, your lips curving into a deep frown. 

“well… i thought that maybe you two had those ex’s but still friends kinda relationship…” heeseung shrugs his shoulders, giving you an awkward smile to try and save face. “i’m sorry, y/n! please forgive me,” he pouts suddenly, grabbing your hands and clasping them together with his. 

you roll your eyes before bringing his hands to your lips. his eyes widen slightly, panicky as his eyes dart from the end of the hall to you. but the panic quickly leaves as it arrived, with you biting down on his hand and he hisses in pain. “fuck– i didn’t know you were into biting like that, y/n..” 

“she is. i would know.” 

both of your heads sharply turn to the intruding voice that joins the two of you in the hall, sunghoon with his arms crossed against his chest, leaning his side against the wall. 

heeseung clears his throat after the silence that hung in the air, looking at you with softer eyes than before. he’s insinuating that he’ll be here, if anything went south between you and your ex. you give him a curt smile and nod, and heeseung takes a quick peek at sunghoon before he pecks a kiss on your cheek (that was very purposeful and much longer than what a peck should be). 

heeseung leaves, his door shutting is the only sound between you two. you bite your cheek, clearly avoiding eye contact when sunghoon begins to step closer towards you, but not invading your space.

“you guys fucked, huh?” 

your eyes shoot up at him. your mouth opens to retort, to say anything, but you’re stunned. sunghoon gives you a (sly) smile, eyes flicking between your eyes at the way your mouth quivers in nerves. “lucky guess,” he shrugs his shoulders, but it was more than just a lucky guess– there were too many signs of closeness that platonic roommates should not be having.

you still say nothing, waiting for him to speak and say what he wants from you, so that he can leave as soon as possible. you know well that small talk works nothing on sunghoon, and he only hates it more if not genuine. 

“does he satisfy you?” he asks, and you feel like he’s poking at you, but his arms are still crossed as he interrogates you. you frown, nodding your head but sunghoon only scoffs, his smirk only growing more. 

“ah… is that so?” he hums, unfolding his arms to dig out his phone from his pocket. he taps a few times on his screen before flipping the phone to show you. 

and you feel immensely embarrassed. if you had the chance to gain a magical power right here, right now, you would pick invisibility without a question. you’re mortified at the sight of sunghoon’s screen– your naked body on full display. and not just one, not two, but four photos of you in different positions, in front of the mirror, you name it. 

“well.. i gotta say, for someone who says they’re satisfied, i wonder why i got nudes then..” sunghoon muses, his canines showing through his grin.

a part of you wants to slap him, wipe that stupidly handsome grin off his face but you know that you’re the one that’s in the wrong in this situation. you sent your ex boyfriend nudes… you can’t even fathom the reason why you were trying to sendnudes in the first place, or what you were doing with sunghoon’s contact open. the two of you have been no-contact for a while since the mutual breakup, so why did your drunk mind decide that it was a good time to text him? 

and it’s not like your sex life is dry… by any means! jake and heeseung can definitely vow for you, and the weird and sudden urge to prove sunghooon starts to take over you. 

you scoff, “just wanted to show what you’ve been missing, i guess,” you shrug your shoulders, feigning confidence.

that’s when you forget how much sunghoon actually knows you– those two years didn’t go down the drain for nothing. 

“i do miss it.” blunt as ever, sunghoon says it so flatly that it catches you off guard, your wide eyes meeting his sudden dark, bedroom eyes. 

“oh.”

sunghoon struggles to bite back the smirk that grows on his face, taking another step towards you that starts to invade your senses– his cologne that he hasn’t changed since the day you first met. almost like a wave of nostalgia hits you, sunghoon decides to remind you what it feels like to have his lips on your skin.

but he’s not so nice, his lips barely grazing your jaw and his eyes hyper fixated on your own lips. your eyes dart up to read his face, but he’s so close, overwhelming you and clouding your mind, your hangover long forgotten. 

“what about you?” he whispers, slightly pulling back just to tease you even more, not giving you what you want most.

“h-huh?” you ask, confused, already starting to feel dazed.

“you miss me too?”

honestly, you should be putting up more of a fight. the breakup was mutual, yes, but it still hurt like hell and you didn’t spend months picking your life back up and getting used to being single again. and you definitely know that jay would not approve, the man being your support system through it all no matter the multiple times you shut him out.

but a part of you just wants to think that maybe, just maybe, sunghoon is back for a reason. but you could also be gaslighting yourself for thinking that.. perhaps you want to feel less guilty about wanting to so badly indulge in sunghoon and your desires. 

you were never known for having good self control, impulse usually taking over for most of your actions, and sunghoon knows that part of you very well to use it as an advantage.

“kinda,” you mumble, eyes avoiding his face as you feel your face grow a tad bit hot over the mere confession.

“kinda?” sunghoon hums, clicking his tongue as he shakes his head slightly. “i think you need a reminder, what do you think?”

before you could think– critically think about what the consequences are, you’re already nodding and all too familiar lips meet yours. soft and gentle to ease the both of you into it, having it been too long since the last time the two of you kissed. overwhelmed with the fluctuations of emotions that hit you, you practically moan into the kiss, causing him to bite your lower lip and earning a low groan from him. 

the sound is enough to have your stomach churning, and like pavlov’s theory, your thighs clenching automatically. yeah, you definitely missed that– having sunghoon wrapped around your finger without having to do much. 

“fuck…” he sighs, like he’s reminiscing an old memory but he might as well be, having almost forgotten how much you really affect him. a simple kiss that could pass as almost innocent (in his standards) has his pants tightening. 

and you had forgotten how hot he sounds whenever he curses. before you realize it, you’re grabbing his wrist and taking him into your bedroom, door shutting closed behind him when you push his back into said door. 

you quickly kiss him again, more feverishly and he’s fast to reciprocate and even chase after your lips when you even slightly pull back for a breath of air. his hands are roaming your body, getting familiar again with all your curves and marks that he’s studied for two years. he knows you love it when he gets grabby, so a tight hold on your waist has you moaning again into his mouth and you can feel his smile against your lips. 

“lemme eat you out, baby,” sunghoon mumbles mid-kiss, his grip on your hips tightening a bit more to convey his need, his brows slightly furrowed and he looks like he might die if he doesn’t. and you decide to use it to your advantage.

“hmm, under one condition,” you say, holding up an index finger between the two of your faces to prevent him from kissing you again. sunghoon’s confused, but he nods either way. you move away from him, his hands reluctantly letting go of your waist but he follows your every move. you go onto your bed, still facing him as you make your way to the center. he’s still moving with you like he’s under a spell, a knee propping him up on your bed as he stays at the edge.

slowly, you peel your bottoms off, and like the entranced man sunghoon is, his eyes are following your hands, waiting for your next words. you gesture for him to come closer, legs spreading to allow him space but your panties are blocking what he really wants to see.

“apologize.”

what you want him to apologize for? you don’t really know yourself. maybe the years you wasted on him? for showing up out of the blue? the hold he still has on you after all the hard work you spent on getting over him? luckily, sunghoon doesn’t question it. he gets close to you, between your thighs as he eyes your face. he visibly gulps before licking his lips and he nods without saying a word.

his face is inches away from your pantyclad cunt, and you start to feel a bit impatient (even though it’s only been a few seconds). he bites his lip, face tilting upwards and the tip of his nose perfectly grazes your clit. you gasp softly, looking down at him with the help of your elbows propping you up. 

“‘m sorry…” he murmurs softly, lips brushing against your pussy. he eyes you from below, through his thick lashes and you practically fold, your face growing hotter. 

he brings a finger to your cunt, still playing through your panties and he’s enjoying this more than you, feeling you clench and unclench in anticipation. he can’t hide the way his lips curve upwards into a smug smirk, missing how cute you are under his touch. 

his index finger curves underneath your panties, tugging it to the side to view your bare, wet cunt for him. he hums at the sight, licking his lips once again as if he was trying to hold himself back, eyes never departing from your pussy. 

“missed her s’much…” he almost slurs, drunk and he hasn’t even gotten a taste yet. he flattens his tongue, pressing his hot mouth against your folds. you squirm slightly, unsure hands gripping at your bedsheets. “y’know how much i like it when you grab my hair.. please do it again,” he pulls away from you, leaving you the dissatisfaction of no friction. 

so you do as he says, hands leaving your bed sheets as you tangle your fingers into his hair, forgetting just how soft and well-taken care of his hair is. he sighs when you tug slightly at the strands, the air blowing into your cunt and you buck your hips slightly. impatient, sunghoon attaches his lips to your cunt and begins urgently lapping up your juices.

you squeal, your hand unintentionally tugging harder and he groans into you. your taste alone has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, mind starting to reel at the reminder of how pliant you are for him. 

“i’m sooo sorry…” he mumbles sweetly into your pussy, practically inhaling you with his hands and arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you pinned into the mattress. he feels you twitch, his tongue bullying its way into your entrance and nose grazing your sensitive bud. 

you’re shaking at this point, your body and mind from being overwhelmed by the familiar sight of sunghoon between your thighs and his mumbled apologies into your pussy like he’s apologizing to it. “sorry…sorry, sorry,” he mindlessly slurs as he continues to slurp and lap at your juices. 

as it turns out, no matter how over you think you are from sunghoon, he’ll always have you in a vice grip, especially when you come undone from his tongue alone. you moan obscenities, your hips fighting against sunghoon’s grasp on you, but your hands pulling at his hair strands tell him that you want him closer. 

he moans into you, moving away from your dripping entrance and up to suck on your clit, encouraging your orgasm. you curse, his name falling out of your lips and sunghoon’s eyes don’t leave your face for a single millisecond, too obsessed with your cute, overstimulated expression. 

he finally pulls away from you, a filthy pop! following as he catches his breath. you lay your head back down on the pillow, legs giving out on being spread after sunghoon has let you go from his hold. but the moment is short-lived, his hand coming quickly to your thigh. “what are you doing? i want more.” 

and what sunghoon wants, he gets.

apparently, he wanted it three more times.

“wai– oh!” you whine, but your words fall on deaf ears as sunghoon is nose-deep in your cunt, eyes shut and visibly enjoying the feast laid for him. you’ve given up on fighting him two orgasms ago, knowing well that he’s done when he says so.

“wh..why are you so insatiable ri-right now..?” you ask through broken moans and heavy sighs. sunghoon finally opens his eyes, looking up at you. he acts like he’s pondering for a moment, but he knows the answer already– he just doesn’t want to pull away from your pussy yet. 

“mmm.. told you already, baby,” he mutters, tongue still licking up your essence around your cunt, “missed you… need’a satisfy my taste buds.” 

with that answer, he’s back into your pussy, except this time he gives you the pleasure of his fingers inserting inside you for the first time that night. you gasp, your free hand lurching down to reach for his wrist, feeling your orgasm suddenly approach you rapidly. 

“oh..oh fuck, i’m–” you whine, but you ddon’t need to tell sunghoon twice, inserting another finger. and, of course he knows how much you love the feeling of being stretched, especially when it’s in preparation for accommodating his cock for you.

your head is instantly thrown back, your nails gripping his hand turning white as you cum around his fingers and on his tongue, legs threatening to close shut around his face (not that he’d complain). 

his tongue swirls and plays with your swollen clit, fingers not relenting on you even as your back arches off the bed. “‘m here, baby, cum for me, last one, promise,” he mumbles to push you over the edge, “will never leave you again, ‘m so sorry, i’m sorry, baby.” 

it’s magical, really, the way his words can do so much on their own. maybe it’s the rasp in his voice that you’ve never really gotten used to, even when the two of you were together– it always had an effect on you. but perhaps, it’s really  just sunghoon who has that effect.

you come undone for the third time this morning, hand clasping over your mouth to save your embarrassment, not forgetting your roommate residing two rooms away from you. sunghoon finally detaches his lips from you, his fingers replacing your cunt for his mouth. he groans at the taste of your sin, the side of his face lazily laid on your thigh as you recover. 

you watch him suck his own fingers lewdly, a feeling of jealousy washing over you — what you’re really jealous of, you’re not sure. perhaps his fingers? his mouth? 

“what’re you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?” his words snapping you out of your gaze, but he knows damn well what’s running through your head. 

you mumble a mere “nothing”, your head turning to the side to avoid his eyes. he hums at your reply before kneeling off the bed, the sudden dip lifting off the mattress causing you to look at him again. 

sunghoon peels off his shirt and undoes his pants, and you had completely forgotten that he was still completely dressed throughout your nth orgasms of him just eating you out. you crawl up the bed a little, your elbows propping you up as you watch him. 

he tilts his head to the side, looking at you with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “what’s that shocked look for? you know i’m not done with you.” 

that you do, having dealt with his insatiableness when the two of you were together plenty of times before. you chew on your bottom lip as he joins you back on the bed, settling between your legs once again. he leans close to you, his chest just hovering above yours and his face so unbearably close to yours. 

“you do know i truly did miss you, right…” he mumbles, his eyes switching its gaze on your lips and your own eyes. you don’t say anything, but he leans in even more, causing a small squeak to leave your lips in surprise. he tsks, his gaze leaving you for a second as if he was embarrassed, “had to convince one of your friends to tell me if you were doing okay or not. you got some really loyal friends..” he sighs, finally pulling away from invading your space. 

his words surprised you, your friends never once mentioning sunghoon texting them to ask about you. a twisted part makes you feel giddy that he was still checking up on you after all this time. 

“y’know you could’ve just come to me… after your whole rooming situation,” he continues on, his words in a low whisper, like he’s unsure if he should be saying all of this in the first place. 

“i was afraid you’d turn me away.. and i didn’t want to bother you,” you reply meekly, still looking at him even if he wasn’t. but at your words, he turns back to look at you. 

“i could never say no to you.” 

and you know it’s true, park sunghoon would never dare tell a lie to you. 

the silence engulfs the both of you for a minute before a small smile makes its way onto your lips. “i mean, if you’re just jealous that i’m rooming with another guy, you could just say that.” 

his eyes widen slightly, a failed stifled smirk growing on his face. “ah, you always read me like a book, baby,” he hums, his hands trailing up your thighs and spreading them open. 

you yelp when he tugs you closer to his torso, grabbing a hold of your thighs and lifting your leg above to rest on his shoulder. the tip of his cock barely brushes against your pussy, your hips already needily bucking for attention. he tsks at you, squeezing your thigh to get you to pay attention to him. 

“please… hoon,” you give him a cute pout, one that he typically always falls for. but he seems to be stubborn today, intending on dragging out this long awaited moment. 

“nah, don’t tell me what to do.” 

you’re whining again, but he quickly shuts you up when he guides his tip to brush against your sensitive clit, a sigh leaving your lips. he repeats this action, your juices coating his cock and making it glisten under the sun peeking through your blinds. 

“fuck..” he groans, slightly shaking his head as if to snap himself out of a daze, “can’t believe i even survived without you.” 

his words hit you like a trainwreck, your head thrown back as you thrust your hips upwards, his tip catching at your entrance and slipping in slightly due to your slickness. 

“hahh~ oh— feels good, more, p-please!” you beg, pleading at him with your eyes, causing him to grin and place a kiss on your leg that's resting on his shoulder. 

“lucky i missed you— and this cute pussy,” sunghoon grumbles before bottoming all the way in, both of you moaning in relief into each other’s neck. he starts off slow, very much opposite to how the two of you used to have sex. but you suppose makeup sex to sunghoon is like this, not that you mind.

the two of you are already panting like animals in heat, caught up in each other’s body warmth and the way he stretches your walls out, your cunt accommodating the familiarity of your ex’s cock. sunghoon cages your head in with his arms, leaning his forehead against yours. 

like you’re making love to each other, the eye contact you two hold is scary as his thrusts start to get harder and deeper, the skin on skin contact is loud and echoing throughout your bedroom. 

“fuuckk,” sunghoon drawls, breaking eye contact with you first to squeeze his eyes shut, enjoying your gummy walls suck him in. you whimper, his moans having a well enough effect on your body as you feel your arousal stick to your thighs and his pelvis. 

you pull him into a needy kiss, hushed moans being swallowed by the both of you to keep the noise level to a minimum (not that it’s really helping). the kiss is sloppy, spit drooling from the corner of your mouth as sunghoon speeds up. 

“mmgh– oh fuck!” you whine, starting to feel how deep he really is. you swear he grew bigger. 

sunghoon moves his hands to caress your hips and thighs, cherishing what used to be his. he moves his lips down to your neck, peppering wet kisses at your pulse point , causing shivers to run down your spine. 

“nn-no, stop,” you giggle slightly, the sensitivity making you pull away from him but sunghoon doesn’t budge, his sharp canines dragging down to your collarbone. “you’re so cute, god..” he mutters, lifting body up as well as pulling your thighs up together, placing soft kisses at your ankle. “m’gonna fuck you like you deserve to, sweet girl.” 

you don’t get a word out, a gasp pulled out of you as he thrusts roughly, the new angle making you feel like he’s in your stomach. you slap a mouth over your hand in fear of heeseung hearing too much from his room. sunghoon grins at you, canine peeking under his lip. 

“no, no… what’re you doin’? he should hear you, so he knows what you sound like when you get properly fucked…” his last words said sharply, followed by even sharper thrusts that make you squeal even through your palm. 

his brows are furrowed now, concentration fully on you as he focuses on your pleasure. his hand snakes down around your thighs, his thumb swiping at your sensitive clit. you let out a whine, the palm over your mouth long forgotten as you grip his forearm. 

“ooh~” he hums, a deep chuckle leaving his lips, “you’re tightening up.. my baby is gonna cum, aren’t you?” he taunts, a brow cocking in question as a smirk appears on his face. you nod, your words being swallowed by your own moans and whines. you’re scratching up his forearm, not that he minds– he’s never minded when you mark him as yours. 

you can’t even give him a warning, your orgasm crashing over you, splotches of white invading your vision as you toss your head back. sunghoon releases a groan, your walls clenching and unclenching around his cock causing him to pound into you faster. 

he lets out another chuckle at your shaking body, his finger letting your clit go. he grabs onto your arms, pulling you up towards him. you instinctively wrap your arms around him, his cock resting deep inside you. your chest heaves up and down, resting your head on his shoulder.

sunghoon hums, “tapping out now? you used to last much longer…” he says, feigning a thoughtful tone to tease you. you pout, raising your head. you are tired, yes… but sunghoon always knows how to provoke you into continuing. 

“i-i’m not,” you frown, suddenly raising your hips then bouncing back down on his cock. he sucks in a breath, leaning back slightly and using his arms to prop himself up. 

“mmm, okay… i’ll give you two minutes before you’re whining, tellin’ me you’re too tired. ‘m gonna have to do all the work again,” he sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes sassily at you. 

you slap his chest before looping your arm around his neck again. you don’t retort back– you’ll prove him wrong with just your actions. steadily bouncing up and down on his cock to create a nice pace for you, it’s not long before sunghoon is groaning out your name.

easily entranced by your bouncing tits in front of him, he wraps his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it. you whine, your hips twitching in urge to grind on him rather than bounce, but you resist as your mission is to make your ex lover cum. 

your hands tangle into his undercut, scratching as his scalp and back as you continue to ride him, the squelching of your cunt meeting his cock making the two of you even more needier. “oh fuuckk,” sunghoon almost whines, tearing his lips apart from your nipple. “don’t stop, juuust like that.” 

your thighs are getting tired and starting to burn, but the twitching of his cock inside you keeps you going, knowing that he’s not too far off from his orgasm. slamming your hips down harder onto him, you grab his face and pull him into another messy kiss, since you know that sloppy kisses always get him even more worked up. 

and you’re right, as sunghoon’s hips thrust back up into you, sloppily pounding as he holds your body still to hover above him, using you. but he doesn’t relent– making you cum only once on his cock? that’s never happened and he intends on never letting it happen. his hand once again sneaks down, rubbing your swollen and overstimulated clit. you cry out into his mouth, him easily shushing you up again as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth. 

you both arrive at your climax, sunghoon groaning out your name against your lips as you grind hopelessly against him. 

the two of you still are engaging in a kiss, less sloppier and more soft. pulling away to finally properly catch your breath, sunghoon rubs soothingly along your hips and thighs.

shouldn’t this be when regret starts flooding your mind and body? you should probably be freaking out now, telling sunghoon to leave and to never speak again. but.. you don’t feel the regret washing over you. maybe a little guilt, but it’s mostly because you told jay you would never be in contact with sunghoon again. and the fact that you told jay you blocked him, which you clearly did not, leading you to your current situation of being wrapped in his arms.

you’re a little too comfortable right now, listening to sunghoon’s soft breathing as the two of you embrace each other. you almost want to break down in tears, beg for him back, but that’s definitely the last thing that you should be doing. you need to consult with someone, and that someone being your best friend. 

[readychilledwine]

Dancing with Eris Vanserra Headcanons?

Sway

Dancing with Eris Headcanons

Warnings - none.

A/N - I have a whole playlist for this subject. Writing Eris dancing is honestly becoming an obsession.

P.s. You'll get a detailed scene of that in Kissed by Fire.

Eris learned to dance from his mother. His father did not see if as a necessary skill, but Mama Vanserra saw it as a necessary outlet.

She has had him dancing since he could stand on her toes. She would count the little steps out to him while teaching him the story and meaning behind each dance.

It soon became an object of pride Beron used. Another way to brag about the son he was not actually proud of.

He would use Eris's skills to seduce females for information, or Mother forbid a father upset the High Lord and had a pretty daughter. Then it was a warning.

Until, you, that is.

Your father is one of Eris's spies, planted as an advisor to Beron. Once you were of age, Beron insisted on a large ball to honor you and present you as an eligible bachelorette to the Autumn Court.

Beron had Eris offer you a dance. It was the first time Beron forced him to dance with a female where it wasn't a warning or filled with ill intent.

Eris will never forget that night. Your hair had been curled and fell into loose waves, a braid wrapped the back of your hair with pieces pulled through. Your father and mother spared no expense to purchase diamonds to decorate your hair with.

He remembers the way you flushed when he offered you his hand. The way you quietly squeaked when his hand rested on your hip once you two were centered on the floor.

He remembers the feel of the rich red velvet dress and its full skirt. He remembers the whispers of scandal over the sweetheart necklace decored with diamonds and sheer nude sleeves that matched your skintone perfectly and matched as well. It was a nod to your mother's Night Court heritage while still accepting fashion standards from Autumn.

The first dance you two shared was a traditional waltz.

It would be the same dance you two would share for your first as husband and wife one year later.

Eris never had a dance partner like you. Someone who was as trained as he was, who loved to dance as much as he did.

Nesta had been fun to dance with, but she did not hold a candle to you.

You and Eris spend most of your time dancing. Sometimes, it's alone with instruments enchanted to play in the ballroom. Sometimes, it's to absolutely no music, your head on his chest. Your arms would rest up his strong back while one of his wrapped your waist and the other cradled your head.

The two of you are the opening dance for every Autumn ball, a tradition handed over by Beron to Eris to allow him to drink instead of perform his duties.

It allowed you two so much more freedom to decide the tone of the ball. It was a symbol of power Beron unknowingly and stupidly handed his son.

It also allowed you two to bring back a dance Beron had banned. The tango. He had deemed it too sexual, too scandalous.

The dance was too ingrained in Autumn culture to allow it to rest and be forgotten.

When Beron died under mysterious circumstances, dancing became more common in Autumn again.

In the streets, in the pubs, in The Forest House.

It became all too common to hear you and Eris laughing as he spun and dipped you.

His body was more relaxed now, allowing the movements to feel almost Godlike now.

When you two finally have a family, the made tradition continues.

From the moment your little daughter holds her head up well enough, Eris holds her close, letting her hold his finger in her little hand and swaying her.

Then Eris echos his own mother, having your sweet girl stand on his feet as he teaches her the steps.

Her first dance presented to the court was a magic moment for Eris.

She was in your dress. That beautiful red velvet dress. He looked at you during the dance, eyes lined with tears as you held your young son.

You would always be his favorite partner. His perfect match. But his daughter, your daughter, she would be close second.

It was a fairytale for him. It healed that last part of dancing that had been so tainted by Beron.

He had spent the rest of the night dancing with you, watching closely as male after male approaches your daughter

You trailed his eyes, seeing the lights dancing off your daughter's flaming red hair. "A beauty, is she not?"

"She is exquisite. My finest work." His lips twitched in pride. Eyes beginning to water again. "I do not plan on letting her go gently."

"Perhaps you will have a dance off with whomever she decides is worthy of her love."

Eris smirked at the idea, the bond now glowing as he dipped you and kissed your neck. "And now I know how we replace the blood duels. I would never lose."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hello I don’t know if you’re currently taking requests but let me tell you. I need more about Milo. If you can. Like he became possessive with reader, jealous of everyone near her.

Milo X Reader: You belong to me

Warnings: Fighting, bar fight, bone breaking, drunk men, sleazy men, smut, dirty talk, dom x sub (kind of), dom Milo, possessive Milo, ass bitting, fingering, making out, penetration ( p in v), unprotected sex, pet names.

Word count: 3K

He's staring again, he knows he is. He also knows he shouldn't but he can't help it. Not when you look like that. You're at the edge of the bar sipping a drink Milo can't quite recognize. He's known you for years but he never noticed what your go to drink was. Perhaps it was because he had been too occupied pretending the pain in his leg wasn't killing him to care or maybe it was because it didn't really matter. He would never be the one to approach you, your favorite drink in hand as he flirted his way into your heart. You'd never made him feel undesirable. He didn't believe you had it in you to make someone feel something like that but you didn't have to, his brain did the work for you. Self loathing does wonders to one's confidence. 

Milo has been watching you for a little while now. You hadn't invited him to the bar. It had been a coincidence. He'd sauntered into the pub, his mind set on finding a pretty thing to take home. He needed to test the waters of his new powers and he wanted company to do it. A special kind of company. He had expected to find someone random, anyone who peaked his interest enough. He wasn't expecting to see you, in fact, it was the last thing he expected but he would be lying if the sight of you didn't ignite something inside him. 

He still hadn't worked up the courage to walk over. This would be the first you saw him like this. The first time he'd talked to you since the "change". It thrilled him but it also scared him. He wondered how you would react. Would you just stare or would you scream at him for his irresponsible actions? He wouldn't be able to take the look of disappointment on your face. He remembered when you first found out about Michele's unorthodox studies. You didn't  speak to the doctor for a week which to some may seem like a small amount of time but that's because they had never met you. They had never had the pleasure of being around you long enough to feel the radiant energy that seeped from you. His fear of your opinion glued him to his spot but it didn't stop him from admiring you. Milo had almost accepted the fact that, despite wanting with all his heart to whisk you away from this dingy bar, you'd probably go home alone. It wasn't until a man approached you that Milos mind changed. He watched the man stumble towards you with a drunken smile on his face. You shuffled slowly to the side trying to put a small distance between the two of you. Milos' hands clenched at his side, his features turning into a scowl as he watched the scene before him. He saw you let out an uncomfortable laugh before shaking your head in a polite no. Milo noticed the way the man's body language shifted at your actions radiating a sort of dangerous energy. Milo didn't like it at all. Before his mind could compute what he was doing his body moved in your direction, his legs moving in steady steps. Milo had gotten to you just as the man had reached out to grab your arm, his body working as a barrier between you and the man. You glanced up at Milo with a look of visible confusion on your face.

“There you are darling. Was wondering where you'd gone.”

“Milo…”

His name left your lips in a breathy whisper sending a chill down his spine.

“Hey asshole we were talking.”

“You know this guy?”

You shook your head timidly, your body moving closer to Milos as you searched for safety. Milo placed his hand on your arm before turning to look at the other man.

“You heard the lady. She doesn't feel like talking to you.”

“That is not what she said.”

“Yeah because she's too polite for that. Luckily for her i’m not, so i'll say what she’s really thinking.”

Milo paused for a moment, his ears picking up on the beating of your heart. It was a bit slower than it had been when he arrived but it was still faster than it should be. The heartbeat of someone who was afraid. The noise seemed to snap something inside Milo's brain, a sudden feeling of rage coming over him.

“Fuck off.”

You let out a small gasp at Milo's words, your fingers digging into his forearm. 

“Milo leave it, let's get out of here.”

He hated the way your voice shook as you spoke. He hated the fact that this man had gotten to you. He wanted to rip this neck open in front of this entire bar. He wanted to show them all that you were under his protection and that anyone that messed with you would have to deal with him. But the way you clung to him brought him out of his rage filled daze. He turned to look at you, his hands moving to push a stray hair behind your ear.

“Okay darling, if that's what you want.”

With one meaningful glance at the man Milo turned around, placing his hands on your hips as he guided you away from the bar and towards the door. You’d barely made it five steps when Milo felt something wet on his shoulder. He heard your scream of his name followed by the sound of glass shards falling to the ground. Milo didn’t give himself enough time to think before he pushed you away, his body turning around to face his attacker just as the man prepared himself to land a punch on Milo's face. His fist came in contact with Milo's body but not in the way he’d wanted it to. Instead of knocking into Milos cheek the man's hand found its way into Milos open palm, his eyes widening in fear as he made eye contact with the vampire. Milo twisted the man's arm, cracking the bone with ease. You watched with wide eyes as Milo tugged the man against his chest and whispered something in his ear before shoving him away. The man stumbled to the  ground using his unharmed hand to drag himself away from Milo in fear. Milo turned towards you, one hand pushing his hair back as the other reached for your arm. You let Milo drag you away from the bar, your legs moving quickly in order to keep up with his long strides. It was only then that you noticed he was walking without difficulty and without a cane. You stopped walking, your body freezing in the middle of the sidewalk causing Milo to stop as well. He turned to look at you, the anger in his features slipping away as he saw the fear on your face.

“Milo how are you…how did you-”

“It doesn't matter.”

“How the fuck can you say that? You just broke that guys like it was made of fucking paper!”

You glanced down at his legs.

“And you're walking like it's no problem.”

“What a big deal? People do that everyday.”

“Well you're not like most people Milo! You’re-

“What? A sick man? A weakling? A good for-”

“Stop it! I’d never call you any of that and you know it you jerk!”

You turned your face away from Milo, your hands going to wipe away the tears that had started to fall from your eyes. Milos' shoulders sagged at the sight. You just been through hell and here he was yelling at you like you were in the wrong. He called out your name, making you turn to look at him. Your lip shook slightly, making you bite on it in an attempt to look strong.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Please forgive me.”

He opened his arms to you with a silent request for a hug. You waited for a second before letting your body collide into Milos. He pulled you as close as he possibly could, burying his face into your hair. He listened as your heartbeat calmed down, a small sigh leaving your lips.

“Thank you.”

“Gotta be able to protect what’s mine.”

The words left Milos' lips with little effort. It wasn't until he felt your body tense that he noticed what he had said. He waited in silence, trying to see how you’d react. You shifted against him, lifting your head so you could look into his eyes. When you met his gaze and  saw the primal like expression in them your breath caught in your throat. You had no idea what had happened to him. Even though he looked the same as he always had there was something different about the way he looked at you. He looked at you like he was a lion and you were a juicy piece of meat. And though it startled you it also sent a thrill down your spine.

“What’s yours hum?” 

Your hand trailed down Milos chest fingers running over the clothes ridges of his abs.

“Yes…”

“And what do you do with what’s yours?”

He couldn't take it anymore. Not with the way your body felt warm against him and the way you bit your lips as you spoke. Milos lips crashed into yours, his hands tangling into your hair as he kissed you. You let him grab onto your body, a small moan leaving your lips when he gives your ass a squeeze. He loved the sounds you made as his hands moved against you. You break the kiss, the need for air getting to you. Milos hands don’t leave your frame, his fingers digging into your hips as he rests his forehead against your.

“Take me to your house.”

“With fucking pleasure darling.” 

You’ve been inside Milo's house a thousand times and you knew the layout like the palm of your hand. Even so you managed to walk into the wrong room. You blamed Milo. The way he tugged at your body in desperation left your brain dizzy. You glanced around the room, eyes falling on the desk in the corner.

“This isn’t your bedroom.”

Milo raised his head, detaching his lips from your neck. 

“You’re right it's not. But this works.”

“There isn't a bed Milo.”

“Oh darling, who said we need a bed?”

A smirk spread across Milo's face as he watched your eyes widen before glancing to look at the desk once more.

“Well what are you waiting for? Get over there.”

“You want me on your desk?”

“I was thinking more like over my desk but on works too.”

You rubbed tights together at the sound of Milo's voice. You weren’t used to seeing this side of him. He was usually quiet and slightly melancholic. The man in front of you wasn’t like that at all. The man in front of you was demanding and sexy. You'd be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

“I thought I gave you an order darling.”

Milos hand wrapped around your throat squeezing lightly as he leaned down to give your lips a quick peak.

“Get over there. Now.”

“Yes sir.”

You turned around a yelp leaving your lips when you felt Milos hand come in contact with your ass in a rough slap.

“That's my good girl.”

“All yours sir.”

Milo licked his lips making his way to you. He watched as you hopped onto his desk, spreading your legs so that he could see your underwear. A moan left Milos lips as his eyes caught a look at the lace you wore.

“Planning on getting fucked tonight?”

“I was actually. Just wasn’t expecting it to be by you.”

Milos smile drops at your words. He leans in closer, placing his arms beside each of your thighs, caging you with his body. You swallow dry at the sight of the scowl on his face worried you’d angered him somehow. You had made him angry but not at you. Oh no. He was angry at everyone else. Angry at the others that had gotten a chance to look at you, touch you and taste you before him. He loathed them but he couldn’t change the past. The only thing he could do is make sure that for this day forward he was the only one who could have you like this. Milos eyes bore into you the silence making you uneasy but then he gave you a sly grin and you calmed down a bit.

“You think that…”

Milos hands made their way in between your legs rubbing your clothed clit as he spoke.

“Anyone could fuck you better than i can?”

Your hips bucked as Milo pushed your underwear aside playing with your folds for a moment before inserting a digit into your cunt. Your lips fell open as you moaned, closing your eyes as Milo fucked your with his fingers.

“I asked you a question.”

“No i-ugh shit- don’t think anyone can fuck me better than you.”

“And who do you belong to?”

“Ah-fuck please- you Milo. I’m yours, I'm all yours.”

“Good girl.”

You placed your hands behind you, fingers digging into the wooden desk beneath you as Milo kept up his brutal pace.

“Wanna cum pretty thing?”

“Yess please Milo…so close-oh-please don’t stop.”

“Okay i’ll let you cum but first you gotta give me a kiss.”

You pushed yourself up so that you were closer to Milo, one of your hands finding his cheek. He smiled at you, plunging his fingers as deep as he could. You launched forward, giving him a rough kiss. 

“Cum princess, go on cum on my fingers.”

He didn’t have to ask you twice. Your body stiffened as your orgasm washed over you, your hands snaking their way across Milo's shoulders as he worked you down from your high. Your body sagged into his as he removed his fingers from your pussy and brought them to his lips. He licked his hand clean of  your juices, head falling back at the taste of you.  

“Taste so good darling.”

“Yeah?”

“That perfuct fucking pussy.”

“Your perfect fucking pussy.”

Milos dick twitched at your words the sultry tone in them making him feel impossibly harder. You seemed to notice the way his hips shifted closer to you. Your hands made their way to his pants unbuttoning them before reaching into his boxers. Milo groaned as you pallmed his cock making you smirk up at him.

“Happy to see me?”

“You have no idea.”

“I think I got a pretty good feeling.”

Milo laughed, placing a kiss to your cheek as he pushed your hair away from your face. You moved your face so that you could place Milos fingers into your mouth. He watched as you sucked on his digits, never breaking eye contact. You removed his fingers from your mouth with a pop.

“Can I take care of you Milo?” 

“As much as I would love that darling, I need to be inside you.”

“OKay. How do you want me?”

Milo pulled you off the desk flipping you around so your back was pressed to his chest.

“Lay down darling.”

“Yes sir.”

You did as he asked your ass brushing against his hard on as you did. Milos hands moved to your hips pulling your dress up so that he could get a good view of your ass. He let out a wolf whistle as he grabbed your cheeks. 

“Now that’s an ass I could get used to kissing up to.”

“What's stopping you?”

Milos grinned at you leaning down and giving your butt a soft bite. You pressed your face into the desk at the feeling, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Delectable.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh don’t thank me just yet darling. I’m about to ruin you.”

“I wanna see you try.”

“Is that right?”

“Uh hum.”

Milos hands ran up your bare thigh, his fingers toying with the edge of your underwear before ripping it off in one quick motion. You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. It wasn't long before the chill air was replaced with the feeling of Milo's warm skin. He inched his dick into your pussy slowly, trying not to cum at the feeling of your walls fluttering against him and the sounds of your squeals. Once he was fully inside he tugged your hair, forcing you to lean off the table. You could feel the outline of Milos abs against your back as he leaned down to suck on your neck.

“This is that last warning darling. Last chance to back out. If I start now I won't be able to control myself.”

“Lucian i swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now.”

Before you could even fully finish your phrase Milo had laid you back down on the desk and started pistoling  into you. He’d bring his dick almost all the way out before plugging it back in all the way. Your nipples rubbed against the wood as your body rocked with Milos movements. You could feel the desk creaking beneath you a twinge of worry entering your system but quickly vanishing. So what if he broke the desk? He could afford a new one. What he couldn't afford was cumming before you. Milo's hands found their way to your clit, rubbing it exactly. He felt you clench around him as you came causing him to reach his own orgasm. Your body fell lip on the desk, whimpering as you felt Milo pull out. You shut your eyes listening to Milo walk to the other end of the room. He returned with a wet towel, gently cleaning up the cum that had started to leak down your thighs. You whispered a small thank you, far too tired to move. Milo threw the towel on the floor, his hands wrapping around your waist as he pulled you off of the desk. He sat down on his chair tugging you into his lap. You nuzzled into Milos neck, sighing contentedly. Milos' hands stroked your hair, observing you as sleep seemed to take over your body. He placed a kiss to your hair breathing in your scent. A scent that had been made for him and only him. Everything was just as it should be: you in Milos arms. The place which you’d always belonged to.

[blueparadis]

꒰ U LOST ME ꒱ ⋮ GOJO SATORU → [ CONTENT & TAGS ]: sorcerer!fem!reader x ex-boyfriend!satoru gojo ( powers not described ), hints of virgin!gojo, relationship talks, angst, undertones of smut, fluff, hurt and comfort, canon divergent, mention of Geto and Shoko, mention of smoking, alcohol. // syn. | Gojo never liked the idea of piling up unfinished business, and he was not tough enough to chase you so he waited for you to come back. + word count -1kish // back to blog navigation.

“This was a mistake.” Satoru unzips your jacket holding the apex of the zipper in between his teeth; along with the tiniest sliver of modesty that you had kept carefully tucked underneath your skin.“I should have never come here.” His galactic eyes stilled on you. He is still holding the zip in between his teeth. The jacket is not undone yet. He has paused halfway. “S'to0ru, why did you bring me here again?”

Great! The painkillers are now slowly kicking into your system. But at least you are safe now. You are in his vicinity. That's all he cares about. That's all he needs to protect you. That's all he needs to —

“was I supposed to leave you there?” He unzips the rest of your jacket. Your belly is on display. Not that he could not see it, he always did. With his six eyes, he could see anything he wanted to. But with his limitless being off, he is more embarrassed than you are right now. This is the first time he is touching you, the first time ever touching a woman. “Seriously, how bad do you think I am?” There is a tone of mockery in his words. He finds it funny. hah! Of course, he does. His hands are resting alongside your shoulders. He scans your body. You are wearing a bra and three-quarter jeans; wherever his eyes land it is bruised. “God, what kind of missions were you doing past these years, babe?”

Now that he is hovering above you, you can meet his eyes properly. “Babe, huh?” Satoru notices your face contort, lips tremble and eyelids blinking rapidly. You look away holding your tears back. A second later, you feel Satoru’s lips graze over your belly. He inhales, strongly. You could hear him. “Oh god! Stop it Satoru. It tickles.” You protest throwing your hands at him in all irregularity preventing him from inflicting another wound on yourself.

As Satoru hears you laugh he remembers the good old days he spent with you. If he had not been so hooked on you there is no doubt you would have lived a much better life. But that is not the case. He is your doom which is why you are the only one he allowed himself to be vulnerable with. He feels he owes it to you. He feels he owes it to you because you were brave enough to love him, brave enough to confess, and more brave than him to let Suguru go so easily.

Unfortunately, your heart mistook it as affection, sometimes even love. But that is not the worst part of all this. Satoru played along with you until he was aware of your emotions, his emotions. And before he could reconcile, you left. You had to because you could not forgive him so easily for what he did and how he did.

Moreover, he had enough on his plate. But Satoru never thought he would see you years later at a pub sitting opposite to Shoko sharing a smoke and a couple of beers. How could you let go of him so easily? Did you not love him enough? Or was it just a silly teenage crush? Secretly, he wished to be like you— empathetic, honest, and blah blah blah! He is everything that you are not. He is everything that you do not deserve. He is everything that you would drown in the pool of regret.

Satoru leans forward kissing your cheeks. You do not protest and even if you did he could easily overpower you. After all that is exactly why you are in such a predicament. Your so-called ex-boyfriend towering above you while you are wasted. You had to take painkillers because the moment Satoru saw you with Shoko, you knew you could not lose him even if you ran away.

“don’t let me lose you too.” he murmurs as he starts kissing softly along your neckline, towards your cleavage, and down to your stomach. “you’re the last good thing left for me in this world.” You get up and hold his face in between your palms. He retorts to give you space but you do not let go of your hand from his face.

“I hate the way that I don’t hate you,” you remarked with a scoff. Satoru jerks away from you. He pinches the bridge of his nose. He is going to dissociate any minute now— “I know you have a heart because I feel it breaking.”

“Oh, now you care?” He snaps. Of course, he does.

“you always push people away.” You start. “Let it care,” but Satoru is quick to interrupt.

“this time I won't. this time I — he sounds so earnest that you think he must have spent all these years without you stuck in a flux of regret and hurt which is unexpecting of him“You know how things were back then. Geto left—”

“yeah.” You pause. “I know.” You inhale heavily, trying to swallow your tears. “which is why I left. So that neither of us had to deal with the hurt we were supposed to deal with. Does that makes sense to you ’tooru?” God! You sound awful with that breaking voice of yours. The painkillers are not helping either. Your mind is so fuzzy and you could feel your nerves tickling but there is nothing to worry about. You have always been honest with him. Maybe that is why he pushed you away.

Your eyes were almost on the verge of betraying you but a firm grip on your wrists kept you awake enough to feel the fervent kiss of his. You did not resist but rather let him sink his teeth into until his grip loosened, groans softened and you tasted a little blood while sucking his lips. You are not sure whose blood it is and you do not need to. He was not playing when he said he won't push you away this time. This is dangerous. You can not run or hide from him anymore. What a pain! Satoru rolled over the bed with you on top. He settled you on his lap quickly before discarding your jacket on the floor.

“There is no turning back now.” He stated holding by your waist.

“Too late to regret now” You murmur against his lips before kissing him. You feel him smile while giving him the taste of his own blood.

—

@angelshub @public-safety-network

[benedictscanvas]

i'd love to love you, someday - remus lupin x reader

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: it's just pining fluff with a couple pet names

a/n: hello sunflowers <3 this can be read as a part two to this, but it works on its own! i can't stop writing soft!fic right now, so if you have any requests along those lines, please do send them in. this was also technically requested by @onceuponaoneshot, I know you asked for young!Remus but i'm picturing early twenties in this!! i hope that's okay and i'm wishing you so well lovely <3

---

Remus has now kissed the top of your head three times. He’s told you that he likes you twice. He still does not think that you’re aware of the overwhelmingly massive/silly little crush he has on you.

Crush is the wrong word, but he also thinks telling someone you love them before you’re even with them is, at best, naive and, at worst, selfish. He’s not in love with you, but he knows he could be. He knows he would be if he could kiss you on the top of the head whenever he liked, if he could run the backs of his knuckles over your cheek and stare at you, really stare at you. He knows he’d be in love with you then.

He needs to get you the message about his feelings first, though, because you seem persistent in ignoring them. He’d told you he liked you more than the rest of your friends at the night market and all you’d done is start referring to him as your best friend. He’d kissed you on the crown of your head twice at that time, then kissed you on the temple during a brave parting hug a week later. Just yesterday, after he’d watched you arguing with Sirius in the pub about something that didn’t matter at all, he told you breathlessly.

“I like you so much,” he had said, watching your chest heave after all that talking you’d done, watching a drop of sweat travel down your neck because the heating in this place is always far too hot.

You had laughed as if he said something funny and then almost shoved him over in your haste to get away from him. If he didn’t know you as he does, or if he listened to his insecurities, he’d think you were trying to brush him off. But he knows you, really knows you. He knows you were as embarrassed by his words as you are in the face of almost any affection. It’s why you call him an idiot so often, with that look in your eyes that gives him so much bloody hope. It hurts his chest sometimes.

Today he’s going to tell you how he feels and you’re going to understand him. He’s decided it.

“Remus!” you greet him, with an excitement he’s never sure he’s earned. You catch him in a tight hug, arms wrapped around his shoulders, so he braves his fourth kiss to the top of your head. When you pull away, you’re beaming up at him, “It’s so good to see you.”

“You saw me yesterday, lovely,” he says, just a fact, not a complaint. You furrow your brow. It’s adorable.

“Exactly. It’s so good to see you today. Especially without people trying to ruin our bestie time.”

He’s been pretending to hate that new phrase, so he rolls his eyes at you, but you just can’t stop beaming. He’s finding it difficult not to join you.

“You mean Sirius?”

You huff at the mention of him.

“He took up so much of my time last night. About cows! Can you believe that?”

“Yes,” he says, smiling wryly at you. You and Sirius could argue about anything and despite any protests, you both enjoyed it immensely.

“Right,” you huff again, “But still. It meant not nearly enough time talking to you. And I want to hear about your week! You said there was a promotion you were thinking of going for?”

He had said that. In a group setting, where he didn’t expect anyone to ever ask about it again. He’d been threatening to go for a promotion for a few years, but never quite managing to go for it.

“I thought you’d assume I chickened out again.”

“You’ve never chickened out!” you protest, linking you arm through his as you start walking through the park you’ve met in. At some point you’ll try to remember stop for lunch, but Remus isn’t sure when, “You decided it wasn’t for you.”

“Because I was scared,” he argued but you slapped him gently on the hand instinctively.

“Stop being self-deprecating” you warn him, “I don’t enjoy it.”

And he never wants to do anything you don’t enjoy, so he stops immediately. It’s amazing the effect you can have on him. He’s going to tell you so, so soon. Very soon. Next few sentences, he thinks. But then sentences go by and you get into a rather brilliant conversation and he just can’t butt in with his own wants. 

“Lily thinks he’s being stubborn but I think he just wants everything to be right for her.”

The two of you have been talking about Lily and James and their potential engagement for a few minutes now. It’s only a matter of time, but how much time is up for debate.

“He’s a romantic. It has to be perfect for her. You’d think he knows by now there’s no such thing.”

“You don’t believe in perfect?” you ask him, no longer clinging on to his arm but walking close enough that your arms brush every now and then.

“Not objective perfection, no,” he says, measuring his words carefully, “But I think something can be perfect to someone, you know? People can be perfect for each other.”

You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he knows the teasing is coming. He feels the flush creeping up his neck already.

“Like soulmates?”

Your eyes are alight with mischief.

“I suppose. If they’re not predestined. If you can choose your soulmate.”

“You think we were destined to be besties or that we chose each other then?” you say, as if it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world and you’re not implying that you might be soulmates. He feels lightheaded.

“You think we’re soulmates?”

“Answer my question, Rem! It’s a hypothetical, you love a hypothetical.”

You still look mischievous, not hypothetical, but he’ll answer you anyway.

“I don’t know how you feel, but I think I chose you as one of my favourite people. I feel very lucky you chose me back.”

He’s definitely blushing. He can feel it, even without bringing his hands to his cheeks to give it away. You’re grinning at him, and it’s making him blush more, but he also feels better. Feels like you might finally understand his meaning.

“This is why I can’t argue with you like I do Sirius,” you say, which wasn’t what he was expecting, “We agree on far too much.”

He smiles down at the ground to stop himself from barking out an altogether unattractive laugh. But it’s his chance and he’s going to take it, because he wants to so desperately.

“If my soul has a mate, I think it’s you,” he says quietly.

He’s sure his heart stutters in his chest in the brief silence that follows. You both walk a few more slow paces forwards but then you finally speak up.

“I’ve never had a person like you, all my life,” you say seriously, staring up into his face for a moment before you have to look where you’re going again and the moment he thinks is coming fades, “We must be as close as it gets, buddy.”

Buddy. His heart sinks. You are the prettiest human being in the world and the most oblivious and Remus really, really wants to fall in love with you. If only you’d let him. If only you could hear him basically declare you his potential soulmate and realise he might have some intentions towards you that weren’t very platonic.

He’s not sure if he’s chickened out or if you have, but he decides whatever moment he wanted isn’t going to arrive today. He spots a nearby cafe after a few minutes talking about his potential promotion, which he pinky promises to go for, so he’ll have to follow through.

A three hour lunch later, and another half hour walking back to your cars, and he hasn’t said another word to you about his feelings. But he’s had a lovely few hours and he thinks you have too.

"Bye, Rem. See you Wednesday?"

There's four of you going to play mini golf on Wednesday night. He hates mini golf.

"Can't wait. Bye, sweetheart."

Whatever rush he thinks he’s in fades when you kiss him on the cheek as you say goodbye. Once you’ve driven off in your car, waving to him all the way down the road, he decides that you might be working up the courage for something too, and he might need to wait until you’re both feeling brave to do something about it. 

He can wait. He carries that kiss on the cheek with him the rest of the weekend and into the next week, where he puts his name down for that promotion first thing Monday.

And if it’s solely so he has something to text you about, so be it.

---

if you've gotten this far, please know i'm very grateful. really hope you enjoyed, sunflowers <3

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

First Times (Poly Relationship w/ John & Ghost Headcanons)

I spent the morning exploring Hackney, which is rich in breweries. While wandering about, I got to thinking, what if…

John starts working at a brewery when he retires from the army?

OR!

He starts a micro brewery/pub with Simon, who retires around the same time.

🍺 The two men set to work immediately to acquire the proper licenses and a premise. Fortunately for the both of them, they’re quite handy and so know how to create a lovely, albeit very manly, space without too much interference from contractors. After all, why hire others for work you can do yourself?

🍺 Honestly, the business is a dream come true for John. Owning a micro brewery was his Plan B should things not work out with the army. However, it’s because of his former employment, he’s become a better business owner. It’s through the development of his leadership and risk-assessment skills he managed to secure the rank of captain.

🍺 For Simon, the brewery is an unexpected ambition, a new dream to follow. While he lets John do most of the marketing (because Simon can’t be arsed with social media… being social in general), he’s mostly pre-occupied with the creation of new and improvement of the already existing craft beers.

🍺 The business steadily grows as word gets about town. Soon, it’s not only the local Hackney residents who pop by, but also people from other boroughs.

🍺 Including you.

🍺 Come from Inner London, the people of the area find you somewhat of a posh puppy, a bit of a toff. It’s this view of you which makes them wonder what on Earth you’re doing in East London, this artsy and not as affluent part of the city.

🍺 Nevertheless, you’re a sight for sore eyes if you ask Simon, who’s your old neighbour back from the few years you lived in Manchester after moving there with your parents.

🍺 Though gruff and distant in the beginning, Simon gradually warmed up to you. Despite never opening up emotionally, you two did develop a strong amiable bond. Maybe because you were the only one to greet him on the street, to ask about his career after catching a glimpse of the dog tag around his neck, to welcome him back each time he was deployed.

🍺 To show sincere interest in him.

🍺 Your parents weren’t a fan of you socializing with the giant in the skull balaclava, but they never told you off for it since you two always seemed to have a good time. Moreover, they rarely saw you smile unless you were with him. So they let it slide, prioritizing your happiness over their prejudice.

🍺 It was only in the spring before you moved without telling him where to and he was deployed yet again, Simon realized he had feelings for you. Nonetheless, he put them aside or, rather, suppressed them until they numbed. He had nothing to offer, fifteen years your elder and terribly haunted.

🍺 So imagine his surprise and absolute delight when you stand in front of him, prettier than he can remember. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

🍺 “Y/N,” it’s the only thing he can say, finally out loud after years of uttering it in silence.

🍺 “Who’s this fair lady?” John slides up next to Simon, arms crossed as he takes you in. His sea blue eyes darken when they meet yours. “How can we help, miss?”

🍺 The way he practically purrs the words sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. Yet, you conceal the effect he has on you behind a steady voice. “I saw the notice on the window, about the open position. Has it been filled in the meanwhile or can I still apply?”

🍺 “She’s a good one, John. Hardworking, trustworthy, kind. Fast learner too,” Simon says pensively.

🍺 “Got experience in the field?” John asks.

🍺 “Studied psychology, during which I mostly focused on the effect of marketing on the human psyche. Also run a food blog and Instagram”

🍺 “Thank Simon properly before you leave. I trust his judgment and seeing he knows you best, I’ll take his word for it.” He slaps his business partner on the shoulder. “Drop by tomorrow and we’ll discuss your contract. I’m looking forward to working with you…”

🍺 “Y/N.”

🍺 “Y/N...” John repeats thoughtfully. Then he hums and heads off.

🍺 Thus begins a series of firsts and connections as you settle down in Hackney.

🍺 Over the course of a few weeks, the locals come to see you as one of their own as you show them you simply aren’t some girl with rich parents, a spoiled princess, but a young woman trying to make a life for herself with her own hard-earned money via helping at the counter and striking up conversations.

🍺 John and you grow closer too. He admires and respects your eye for detail and aesthetics, though sometimes he feels a little awkward when you’re trying to direct him for the occasional TikTok. Nevertheless, it’s your creativity that keeps drawing him in, igniting the need to keep getting closer to you. What also helps is you bringing him coffee or reminding him to take breaks (both with a kiss on the cheek later down the line).

🍺 Loves to review the content you create together, especially when you’re in his lap while doing so.

🍺 On your mutual days off, John drags you all over London to visit bakeries and cafés. Never had you thought him a foodie, though it’s a pleasant discovery since there’s always something new to experience on the food scene. Moreover, he loves helping you out with your own blog, not just the one you created for the brewery.

🍺 These days, you’re teaching him photography and are taking baking classes together. Although, you might as well go on your own to the latter because he’s a terrible baker (unlike Simon, who’s self-taught and surprisingly good, like, sale-appropriate why-doesn’t-he-have-at-least-a-micro-bakery good).

🍺 Your bond with Simon mostly rekindles via being his guinea pig. He knows how brutally honest you can be in your feedback, which he thoroughly appreciates. Outside work, the two of you frequent bookshops, have picnics in the major parks in London, and visit the city’s oldest cemeteries. The latter is a bit of a morbid idea of a nice outing, but you appreciate the silence and romantic sense of decay in the air.

🍺 It isn’t long before you take up residence in the apartment the two men share, which leaves the other residents of the building wondering about your relationships to one another. Although, they can guess at the nature of it seeing the “noise” at night. As I said, lots of first including a relationship with two men older than you.

🍺 But aside from the plethora of sensual moments, there are also plenty of tender (and domestic) firsts. For example, Simon accompanies you to your first tattoo appointment. When, the next day, you’re struck by tattoo flu, he takes care of you. Of course John doesn’t force you to come to work nor Simon for that matter, who you clearly need at the moment (despite claiming otherwise). Henceforth, you’re both granted PTO until you’re back on your feet.

🍺 Speaking of the former-captain, John is your very first kiss. You and him went out for pizza (Simon preferring to stay home and read). On the way to Hackney Wick, beneath a bridge heavily decorated with graffiti and sheltering a few barges, he put his hands on your cheeks and crashed his lips into yours. He tasted of tobacco and white wine, laced with the sweetness of tomatoes and basil. That night, he made love to you.

🍺 Another first.

🍺 Simon prepared breakfast the next morning, serving food to ensure John and you wouldn’t succumb to exhaustion later in the day. Nor him, for that matter, because while he doesn’t get jealous and loves sharing you with his best friend, he sometimes wishes you wouldn’t go at it till early in the morning when the next day is an ordinary work day.

🍺 You’re there for them when either of them suffers from night terrors or combat stress. Simon is more prone to the former, whereas John is to the latter.

🍺 You accompany Simon to therapy too after he’s been diagnosed with PTSD. At first he didn’t want to go, refused it even, until he finally relented after another episode of flashbacks and coming to his senses while shaking in your arms.

🍺 Life with John and Simon isn’t always easy nor romantic.

🍺 But bloody hell, do they make it better.

[madwomansapologist]

smile for the camera | peach salinger

Navigation | More Best Friends Forever AU | AO3

synopsis: Peach has been sick for so long, it makes sense that now she wants to have fun. What was supposed to be just a drink or two turned into an endless night - albeit a forgettable one for your drunken brain. But Peach has more than enough photos to prove that what happened is not imagination.

warnings: yandere!peach salinger. smut. groping. nudes. fingering. oral. toxic friendship. codependency. her rare illness that reaaaaally exists. gaslighting. manipulation. jealousy. substance abuse which means this is somehow equally dub!con? cheating. as a survivor of a homoerotic toxic friendship, this is more of a confession. in this house we support women's wrong. female!reader.

You should be preparing for next week's seminar for your work. More than that, you wanted to be preparing yourself. It's important, you worked a lot on it. You promised yourself that you would finally make sure that everything was ready and set for your big day.

And yet there you were. Driving towards Peach's location. Not the first time. Certainly not the last.

Peach just had the worst week of her life - acording to her huge history of messages, twitter account and daily Be Real updates. Another complication of her rare disease. It's something about gluten and PH. You never really understood what it's, all you need to know is that it's serious.

And you weren't there for her.

Peach is way more than just a friend. She's your family. You know her since graduation. A couple of years, but it feels like a lifetime ago. She's been there beside you for so long that you can't actually remember how life was before her.

She's always there for you. Since the first day. A kind listener to your ramblings about horrible teachers turned into someone that would hear anything you needed to say. And Peach can count on you too. What for her started as someone who actually knew how to do makeup ended with someone who would clean her tear stained face.

Peach's advices may be harsh to say the less, but she always is there to hear about your problems. It was so difficult when you were suddenly fired from your last job, but you knew you could count on her - still embarrassing to accept money from her, but what other choice did you had?

When your grandma passed, she was there for you too. When you lost your cat, when your car died out of nowhere, when you discovered in the worst way possible that blush actually does spoil.

Peach is always there for you, just as you're always there for her. But just when she was sick... you weren't there to help.

Away for the holidays, with your family, everything was perfect. That's what hurted you the most. If it was at any other week you would be worried, yet not guilty. But of course it happened right on the week you knew Peach would be alone.

Fuck her decease, and fuck her shit family.

You almost came back. You even told her. Peach tried to tell you not to, but you really would. But your mom almost killed you with her stare just from mentioning that you might need to go back to New York earlier.

Back to town, you had so much to do, but what else could've you say when Peach asked if you were free to go drinking with her? Maybe the truth. But the truth wouldn't help her, nor would make you feel good about yourself.

Just two or three drinks, you told her.

"Pookie!" Peach called you when you entered the pub. You looked around, the place with more movement than usual, and saw her waiving for you. "Right there!"

You dropped your purse on your usual place. Peach knows the owner, and he always makes sure to have her favorite place free. You kissed her cheeks, relieved to see that she looked healthy.

"I knew that dress would suit you perfectly," Peach pulled the hem of the golden piece. Her fingers stayed there longer than necessary, just feeling the warmth of your skin throught the dress.

You sat down, seeing that she had already asked for your drink. Exactly what you wanted. "Thaaanks," you pratically purred at her. "I have clothes at your home, I will give it back to you tonight."

Peach took a sip from her drink, mirroring you. She fixed her hair, as if it wasn't perfectly done. "You can stay with it. Looks better on you, anyway."

"Always trying to gift me things," you rolled your eyes, but a smirk quickly appeared on your face. 'So... who are we talking shit about tonight?"

"Boo... I've missed you so, so, so much," Peach grabbed your hand.

You held it gently, your thumb brushing against the soft skin of her palm. So warm, so free of any scars. Peach's hair smells like milk, her neck like strawberry, her breath like mint. But her hands always smelled like honey.

"I've missed you too."

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

You drank way more than three drinks.

The night started on that pub, but it didn't end there. Somehow things with Peach always ends with you both wandering throught New York. As if live was a tv show. Maybe that's something that happens to rich girls, and you're experimenting it out of proximity.

Going on different bars, laughing at anything that moves, talking about epiphanies that wouldn't survive the night. It wasn't a surprise that it would turn into a drunk karaoke night, but you'll still get surprised by the photos on your phone.

Struggling, Peach unlocked the main door of her house. You went upstairs trying not to fall, and put your heels on the floor - you don't remember taking them off.

Peach dropped her purse, not caring about where it would fall, and stretched. That was too much. Definitely too much. Peach is used to get wasted, but even she was affected.

She don't even remember how you both managed to get to her home. For a matter of fact, neither do you. After a certain point, the night was nothing but a dark blur.

Peach knew you would do everything to come back to her. You have the biggest heart ever. She wanted you to spend new years eve with her, but she undertood you wanted to be with your family. But when she saw the picture of your new boyfriend with your mom... she needed to do something to stop that.

He just... He don't deserve you. He's not on your level. You need someone that will be able to take care of you. Someone that will assure that you can work on your researches, that will give you freedom, that will support you in all ways that matter.

And that's not that guy. How will be your future with him? Worrying about mortcages and settling for the basics when you deserve the best? You deserve more. And if you can't see that, than she'll open your eyes.

Her sickness wasn't able to get you back, but now you're here she'll make sure to tomorrow morning give you a few advices. She didn't mean to make you feel guilty, but if you feeling guilty makes her have so much fun... Peach ain't able to say that she's ashamed.

"You ain't going to throw up, right?" Peach kicked her heels away, moonlight illuminating her bedroom. "I really don't want you to die while I sleep."

You just rolled your eyes, admiring yourself through the mirror. "I feel so pretty."

"That's because you are, pookie," Peach sat on her bed. Getting her earrings off, she followed your hands as you slid them across your dress. Her dress.

You licked your lips. "I feel... hot."

Peach sighed. She needs you in her life. You're half of her. You're hers. Most of the time she can ignore that. She can pretend that being your friend includes wanting your attention all the time, needing to always have an eye on you, dreaming of you.

But now with alcohol messing with her head, it was difficult to chose to look away from you. To keep on pretending that she don't want to look at you all the time. To shut up that part of her that knew you both are endgame. To not pretend that you're the forbidden fruit and she don't even need a snake to tempt her.

"That's because you do."

You looked at her hazy eyes. "You think so?"

"I know so."

It was your time to sigh. "I don't want to forget that," you played with the hem. "I would record me like this if I could."

Peach opened the second drawer of her nightstand. In the mirror, you saw the analog camera shining. “What an old thing,” you teased her.

"Then pose," she said. You turned to her, brows arched. She was already aiming it at you. "Smile for the camera."

You rolled your eyes, but smiled anyway. Even blinded by the flash you still knew she was too.

That wasn't the first time she used that camera to record you. You reorganizing your kitchen's cabinet, wandering through libraries, dining with a date. Peach can't believe you're real. She uses those photos as a proof of your existence. A proof that you're more than a fragment of her mind.

Peach thought you wouldn't want it. That you would think she was weird. But now you'd asked for it. As the flashes go on, you have fun with new poses. It was almost childish. Just two drunk woman having fun together.

You sat down on her bed, and Peach walked towards you. Looking at you through the camera, she tripped and fell on top of you. You laughed hard, your head against her pillows, as Peach tried to get up. She leaned on your shoulder, sitting on your lap, and felt your laugh echoing inside her.

Then the laughter ended, and silence consumed you both. Suddenly you both realized how late it was. How really lonely you both would've been if not by eachother company. Peach on your lap, the camera lying on the bed, your breathing unregulated.

"Is it ok if I take it off?" Your fingers were again pulling the hem of your dress. "Would you mind?"

"O-Okay," Peach whispered. "Go on."

Peach hesitated before reaching for the camera. Her hand was shaking. The first photo was just a grey blur. She breathed in and tried again. Then she saw.

You weren't looking to the camera.

You were looking at her.

The next was of your face. You body didn't even appeared. Your hair loose on her pillows, a lopsided smile breaking free, eyes glowing with the moonlight. The forbidden fruit, within reach of her touch.

"Am I pretty like this?"

Peach breathed in. "You're perfect."

"Show me," you whispered. "I want to see it."

Peach reached for your cheek, caressing it slowly. Her fingertip brushed against your lip, and you opened your mouth. Without even realizing what she was doing, Peach put her thumb inside your mouth.

The flash made you close your eyes, but she knew there was no way for you to not look perfect. The wet finger went down your body, marking your breasts with your own drool, and the flashes continued.

She could die from your expression as she pinched your nipple. Or from how easily you opened your legs for her. How you glowed, so sensitive to her fingers. How you arched your back. How you whispered her name.

Then she started recording it.

Her tongue against your clit, fingers inside of you. Her mouth on yours, hands grabbing your waist. Your drunken gaze, stupid mind, static body. Sometimes you spaced out, but Peach would bring you back to Earth.

It was slow, and torturing, and neverending. It was a fever dream, a blurred memory, a drunk imagination. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. A dream, that's the only explanation.

But her so precious photos and videos would proof otherwise.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[harrywavycurly]

I love the banter with Niall and reader! Could we see how they talk on the phone or something? 😇

Hiii babes!! So happy you like their banter 😂 I will happily give you some random phone/facetime convos between the two of them! I hope you enjoy 💖

-find all things boyfriend Niall Horan here✨

“Why do you even read that trash?” “It’s not trash Niall it’s how I keep up to date on my celebrity gossip…oh god…why do they always use the most unflattering photos of me in these things?” “No such thing as an unflattering photo of you babe…definition of beauty you are…broke the mold they did when they made you…no one even comes-” “that’s enough thank you…oh guess what I just found out.” “Uh Harry has six nipples and an eleventh toe?” “No…but apparently we’ve been secretly married for two years.” “Huh and here I was thinking that I’d always remember my wedding day…” “oh and you’ll love this…I haven’t been seen drinking in a few weeks so that means I’m pregnant.” “Come again?” “I’m pregnant.” “You’re what?” “Oh god no…no like I’m just reading you what they are saying in the teen magazines Niall I’m not-” “you’re fucking pregnant and you’re telling me on FaceTime? What the-” “breathe Niall! In and out…deep breaths okay? I’m not pregnant…I’m just telling you that the world thinks I am because I haven’t been drinking-” “I can’t feel my legs…I’m gonna pass out.” “Jesus you’re so dramatic…” “I’m dramatic? You’re the one who cried and stomped your feet in the middle of a pub because they didn’t have anymore fucking chips.” “I was drunk and upset okay?” “Yeah well my secret wife just told me she was secretly pregnant so I’m also upset okay?” “That brings me to the question apparently everyone wants to know the answer to…why do you hide me so much Niall? Are you embarrassed of me?” “Oh right I hide you so much that I bring you everywhere with me and even talk about you in interviews and post you on my instagram…but yeah you’re my little secret…” “I love you…wanna hear about Brad Pitt’s newest love interest?” “I love you too…still not over him and Angelina splitting…that shit was messy.”

“These are your options lover and if you don’t see one you like too fucking bad I’m not going to another shop.” “You talk so sweet to be Niall…oh is that a magnum bar?” “Uh…yes…yes it is…that the winner?” “Yes that’s the winner…oh is that cookies and cream?” “Nope…your eyes are messing with you babe.” “Did you just lie to me Niall James Horan?” “No….yes?…but only because I know you’re gonna make me pick one for you and I’m gonna end up picking the wrong one and you’re gonna be annoyed and…I just say go with the first one you saw and…and you know what? fuck it I’ll get both…I’m good for it.” “Yeah…you’re good for it.” “I’ve got a few spare dollars for the love of my life’s ice cream addiction…”

“Oh hello there my darling girl…I just got your little to do list thingy and I have questions.” “Okay lover of mine…what questions do you have?” “Number one…why the bloody fuck is this list called my lover’s list of things to try when all it has on it are errands you need me to run and like…chores and shit? That title would make one think this list is full of…other…things like…for the bedroom.” “Because you haven’t ever done anything on that list so therefore you’re going to be trying it…hence the name my lover’s list of things to try.” “I beg your fucking pardon? I have mowed the bloody lawn before thank you very much.” “Oh have you?…really? Wanna tell me when?” “Uh..when…I lived in that house in uhm L.A by myself…” “You’re so full of shit…you got half way down one side of your lawn and gave up because you didn’t have the blade dropped properly.” “Oh I love it when you talk lawn care to me baby…it’s so sexy.” “Did you see what was last on the list my little handy man?” “Uh no let me take a gander….Jesus fuck you can’t go writing things like that on a list I’m meant to take out in public.” “Sorry next time I’ll send it to you via email then is that better?” “You really want me to try that on you….again? It didn’t go very well last time…” “that’s because you have no patience and tried to rush it.” “Okay that’s….yeah I did do that but you can’t fucking blame me I was just excited.” “Do you have any other questions Niall or can I get back to work?” “Yeah uh…is this list in any sort of order or can I do them as I want?” “Do them in the order they are written please…and thank you.” “At this rate I’m not gonna get to the last one till bloody Christmas.” “It’s six things Niall…don’t be such a ninny.” “God I love it when you’re mean to me…just does something to me.” “You’re so annoying…I have to go now okay? I love you and I’ll see you when I get home.” “I love you too…have a good rest of your day my little pet.”

“Hello? Baby? Are you okay?” “Uh yeah I’m fine why?” “Uhm well I’m on hole six and you normally don’t call me while I’m golfing unless you’ve run out of snacks or you’re hor-” “as if I’m the one who calls you when I’m in the mood you’re the one who calls me Mr. Small Talk…” “Baby…please don’t be offended but…do you need something?” “Oh shit I’m sorry no…I was just on my way home from target and you know how I like to talk on the phone while I drive.” “Target huh? How much did you blow on pointless shit?” “That’s none of your business….but sorry I’ll let you get back to your little uh…game?…round?…session?…thing…” “it’s amazing how little you know about a sport I’m so involved in…” “awe you think I’m amazing? You’re so sweet Niall.” “How far from the house are you?” “Why?” “I can spare a few minutes to keep you company till you get home.” “I am pulling into our neighborhood…who’s winning?” “Why do you ask such rude questions like that?” “Ah…it’s Harry isn’t it?” “No…not by much anyway…I still have time to come back and kick his lanky ass.” “That’s my man! Kick that Styles ass.” “If I win what do I get?” “Uh you get to rub it in his face and add a tally to your side of the scoreboard in the game room?” “How about if I win I get a proper blo-” “oh look at that I just got home…have a good rest of your game…love you! Bye!”

[sgojoenthusiast]

post breakup sex with jjk characters

• geto - part 2

<- previous part 

     next part ->

‘she’s breaking down i’m ‘bout to lose it, i’m screaming who the fuck were you with’

CW: smut, toxicity, irresponsible drinking, degrading, humiliation, blowjob, nicknames (princess, baby), rough sex, biting, choking, slapping, dumbification.

word count: 3.1k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

“Why were you even with her if you knew she was tryna fuck you then?”

Geto was pissed. He was drunk and incredibly angry.

You were equally as angry, yet painfully stubborn and irritating as a result of your drunkenness.

“How come you think so fucking little of me? You really think I'd cheat on you? You know what, you wanna break up with me?” he stormed over to your drunk body, held up by the wall’s support. “Fine. go on then, I’m not stopping you. Why the fuck should i be with someone who refuses to listen to my fucking explanation?”

“You wanna fucking explain? I don't need an explanation geto! I watched as you guys kissed right in front of me! To think we’ve been together for years and you-”

“I pushed her off goddammit! If you had looked for a second longer, you would have seen that I pushed her off! I would never do that to you!”

“I’m fucking done.” you slurred, stumbling out angrily. “Go fuck her if you wanna but remember who’ll actually make you cum” you mumbled on your way out, almost so quietly that he wouldn’t have heard had he not had his head in his arms against the wall in silence.

“Fuck off then.” he snapped drunkenly back.

•••

One week. It had been one week since your feud with geto and it felt like hell.

You woke up hungover and with little memory of the events, however, the mind of geto kissing that girl lingered in your mind.

Truth be told, you were looking for about half a second. She had her hand on his jaw and her lips on his. His eyes were wide and his grip on her wrist firm.

What you didn’t see was how when you turned your back, he pulled her wrist away and pushed her back to break the kiss repeating the same phrase he had told her several times that night: “I have a girlfriend.”

You had a gut feeling that both of you getting drunk would lead to complications, it always does. Every massive fight has started with both of you hammered and picking apart something and making it bigger than it actually is. Making it bigger than it is without having seen the full picture.

You felt this fight was permanent as your eyes told you he cheated, causing a hole in your heart to erupt and affect every part of you immensely.

The lack of communication on geto’s behalf certainly wasn’t helping.

It wasn’t until you sat in a pub, drinking away your sorrows, that you realised what had happened.

“You’re that dude’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” she sits beside you. “Can you apologise to him for me? I was totally drunk and I wouldn't have kissed him had I actually been in the right headspace to process his words.”

You’re taken aback a bit. At first, you were shocked at her audacity. However, her words interested you a bit. “I'm sorry, what?”

“You are his girl, right? Ge- Geto, I think his name was? He totally pushed me off when I kissed him and I'm so embarrassed that I even tried, especially after he told me about you like 7 times.” Her head fell dramatically into her hands, mocking the whole situation as though it hadn’t become a big deal.

But was it? Had he really been telling the truth? Shit you’ve fucked up. Surely he’d forgive you, right? I mean, from your perspective, all you saw was him locking lips with some girl he’d just met. You were understandably mad, so he can’t blame you for that, right?

Wrong.

Oh so very wrong.

He leant against the door frame, smirking down at you with tired eyes.

“So you wanna come crawling back after dumping me ‘cause you’re too fuckin’ stubborn to see the whole picture? Who’d you take me for, princess?”

He looked as though he hadn’t slept since your argument. You couldn’t blame him though as you spent your nights tossing and turning trying to decipher where you were lacking - what she had and you didn’t.

“Sugu, surely you understand my point of view? This whole situation is just a misunderstanding! Please can we just talk it through and try to understand each other“ you reasoned, though your words fell upon deaf ears as he went to slam the door. “You’re behaving ridiculously, Geto” you scolded him.

His mind felt as though it would blow up. He had spent the time without you in agony. The fact you had so little trust in him after all this time left a permanent scar in your relationship in which trust was a necessity. And then, you come strutting up to his apartment claiming you know the whole truth and how you want to go back to normal. He had spent a week with his heart in shreds at your lack of will to try only for you to listen to a woman you’ve never spoken to over him, your boyfriend.

Though, his true problem was how his clenched fist was leaving crescent shaped marks in his palm from restraining himself from pulling you into his arms. You would be the death of him.

“Fine then, come in. We’ll talk this shit through but if I don't like what you’re saying,” he stalked dangerously closer to you, “you won’t like what happens afterwards, princess.”

With his vague threat leaving you speechless and shivering, you stepped hesitantly through the door that had shown you into nothing but a homely welcome the countless other times you stepped through. This time, however, felt tense and you were desperate to turn back yet you were determined to fix this.

“Look, I know you’re pissed off because I didn’t believe you, yet you have to understand what I saw that night, Sugu-”

“Sure but d’you know what I saw? A stubborn brat who’s trust issues led her to jump to a conclusion despite having only looked at the situation for hardly a second.” he snapped back, slamming the door violently.

“Sugu, I was devastated! What would you just sit and stare if I kissed someone in front of you?” you attempted to reason.

“For fuck’s sake I didn’t kiss her!”

a never ending pattern of recycling arguments and trying to understand each other only led to sore throats and dried up tears as you were standing outside of suguru’s bedroom door, which he had stormed into mid-argument.

Your relationship has always been solid and stable. Sure, there were minor conflicts here and there yet nothing that led you both to having backs against the same door as you tried to reason with each other with the little breath you had left.

“Sugu, I hate this. Surely you’re not giving up because of one rough patch?”

“Fuck’s sake, princess. You don’t trust me and you don’t see where you’re wrong, either”

You were clinging onto any shred of hope or positivity. You wanted things back to how they were yet, Geto made this no easier by his lack of wanting to apologise and forgive you.

Your tear stained cheek was pressed against the wooden door as you heard shuffling and a lock clicking behind it. You shuffled back swiftly as he hesitantly opened the door.

His eyes shone dangerously dim, a worn out smirk rested on his lips as he looked you up and down. “You’re not even sorry, are you baby? You’re not sorry, ‘cause you don’t think you have to be. Ain’t that right?”

You sighed, “You want me to apologise? fine, then i’m-”

“Don’t. Don’t unless you fucking mean it.”

Your thoughts were all over the place at his confusing behaviour and words.

“I do mean it, Sugu. It was wrong of me not to trust you and I was wrong to jump to conclusions when-”

“This past week has been the worst since before we first started dating. I’ve been a fucking mess, princess. Everything reminds me of you and I can't take it. Shit, I can't even hate you right now because all I can see is your lips as they retaliate. You can’t even begin to comprehend the absurd feelings I have for you. I can’t even fucking tell whether I wanna be fucking you dumb against my door, or holding you and apologising or if I should slam the door in your face. You complicate shit and I can't stand it- I can't stand you.”

“You can’t stand me?”

Your throat was dry and your mind was blank. So much so that you hadn’t realised your back was against his door frame as he hovered over you intimidatingly.

Your mind so blank you hadn’t realised when his lips were on yours and then on your neck and moving down your chest as he picked you up by your thighs and caressed them gently before holding them in a bruising grip to convey his anger.

“I can’t fucking stand you.”

Geto carries you purposefully towards his bed, immediately placing his lips back on yours as he does so, as though your lips give him life.

He wasn’t lying. He can't stand you. He can’t stand your laugh, voice, hair, body or anything that you do because those things make him feel powerless and weak, they punch him straight in the stomach whenever you’re present however before, he would have died to even be touched by you. Now, though he’s fuelled by his undying adoration and desperation, he can't help but communicate the betrayal he feels by his lack of delicacy when handling you now. He can’t help but feel as though your lack of trust was just the twist of the blade in his heart during this relationship.

On the other hand, you cherished every second with him in case he decided to cut you off. You knew you fucked up, yet you knew your reasoning that the couldn’t discern.

Geto dropped you on the bed carelessly, whereas before, he’d handle you with the utmost fragility as though you could shatter any minute.

“You wanna prove to me how sorry you are, baby?” you nodded hesitantly, concerned for what he may have in mind yet not willing to toss away the preciousness of the memories made within the past few years.

“Good girl. listen carefully, okay? I know that's not your strong suit but try your hardest for me, baby.”

Fuck, you were on fire. You felt small due to his humiliation and degradation and he hadn’t even started. You bowed your head due to his belittlement, hiding away the shame evident on your face before he grabbed your chin harshly, however at the same time with the same amount of care he used to hold you with.

“I want you to get on your knees for me, you can do that, can’t you?” you nodded your head submissively, he always knew how to get you so small underneath him. “Good girl. Surely even your dumb brain knows what to do now, huh? C’mon baby.”

He glared down at you, radiating with power he had stolen from you. His fuel was your embarrassment and submission. He thrived on getting you to submit to him and do as you’re told.

Strands of hair began to fall out his bun, sticking to his forehead which only emphasised the fury within his eyes, hiding away the concern he felt for you at the same time.

A concealed smile began to creep its way upon his face as you slowly unbuckled his belt and lowered his jeans. Your eyes never left his menacing ones as you freed his hard cock and spat on it lewdly. “Do you wanna do that a bit faster, princess? Making me wait won't make this any easier for you.'' Although he spoke a question, you had little room to decide as he grabbed the back of your head and forced your lips to where he craved them to be, nudging his cock against them forcing you to part your lips.

He kept his grip firm on your head, yet he allowed you to move freely and didn’t push you further onto his cock, as tempting as it sounded to him. “Nothin’ stopping me from using you as a toy, baby, so pick up the pace, will ya?”

Anyone who respected themself would have immediately disobeyed, and whilst you knew your worth, something about the way geto spoke to you urged you to do as he says. His words were compelling and you were infatuated with every one of them as they controlled your mind. So, with his words processed in your head, you took every inch of him quicker, choking and gagging repetitively on his cock, tears welling up in your eyes from the invasion.

He grunted and moaned, eyes finally tearing from yours as he threw his head back, finally throwing praises at your ears, telling you how good you were being for him. He stroked your head tentatively as you struggled around him, head bobbing up and down, hands clawing at the material of his jeans.

Seeing him so pleased by your mouth caused you to grind up on yourself, moaning around his dick, the vibrations earning a tighter grip on your head. “F-fuck- you sorry baby? Say you’re fucking sorry. Oh wait, you can’t.” he pouted down at you, chuckling at the sight of you. “Poor thing, choking on my cock like that, so pathetic. You want mercy baby? Tough shit.”

He pulled your head off him roughly. “Get on the bed.”

He tugged off his clothes as you climbed on the bed, soon following his actions and removing your clothes, leaving you in your underwear on his bed.

He leaned down and encased you in his arms, lips closing on your skin, tongue travelling across your neck, then your chest, and soon your legs. He bit down on your skin harshly, looking up to see your pained reaction as you chewed on your bottom lip.

He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder as his fingers traced your thighs, however, you knew better than to beg him for more until he said so. His touch was gentle and light as his fingers dragged across your skin and over your panties until his thumb pressed down on your clit, causing your lips to part for a yelp to leave them.

All he did was bark out a brief laugh at your pathetic reaction and continue to torture you slowly. “Jesus, fuck- you always this wet after we argue, huh?” he smacked your thigh harshly at your lack of a response. “That was a question, princess.”

You parted your lips to answer, but before anything but a moan could come out, geto had his skilled fingers rubbing at your clit under your panties.

“Fuuu- yes!”

“Yeah, baby? What a slut, getting wet at me shouting at you. Tell me you’re a slut, baby, c’mon”

“’M a slut, Sugu.” you slurred as he pulled down your panties for full access to your cunt, fingers working their way inside you as his thumb played with your aching clit.

You moaned pathetically at his touch, pushing yourself onto his fingers in a desperate attempt for him to speed up, yet all he did was pull away from you, scoffing at you.

“Beg for my cock, baby. Make it good, put on a show f’me, will you? C’mon, beg for it.”

You wasted absolutely no time. Not a second of hesitation.

“Please Sugu! I can't take it anymore, need you inside me badly. Pleasepleasepleaseee Sugu I need your cock- please!”

His smile brightened before he shut you up with his lips on yours. His tongue found its way inside you as the kiss deepened, a whine erupting out your throat before he pulled off to stare at you closely. His hand raised to slap you across the face, yet all you could do in return was moan and buck your hips up desperately.

His lips found yours again and his hand found your throat. “Such a good girl, yeah?” he murmured against you before straightening himself up and lining himself up with your pussy.

He pushed himself in, deep and slow.

He looked godly as his hair stuck to his forehead, gaps of light coming from the closed curtains were drawn to him, highlighting his beauty and presenting him in an angelic way as he thrusted himself in you.

You watched him with half-closed eyes, your hand gripping the pillow behind you and your back arching at his touch.

He dragged himself in and out of you at a leisurely pace, though his thrusts only got harder.

In no time, you were screaming around his cock with his hand around your throat. “If you scream any louder, you’ll alert the neighbours.” he stated, taking the hand around your throat and pushing two of his fingers into your mouth which you immediately began to suck. His cock pummelling in and out of you, the feeling clouding your brain as he whispered lewd words and chanted forbidden phrases into the air.

“God- your pussy is so fucking perfect baby. You’re driving me insane. I like you more with my fingers down your throat and my dick stuffin’ you full, don’t ‘ya think?”

All you could do was agree because, fuck, did you like his dick filling you up. You loved all thoughts but Suguru leaving your head as his dick fucked you hard.

He lifted your legs up to your chest and slithered the hand that was in your mouth down to your pussy, stroking brutally at your clit.

Everything felt so heavenly as the knot inside you was about to snap. Geto felt you tighten around him and he knew you were about to cum. “Not until i say so, alright, baby?”

You nodded brainlessly, waiting for his permission.

He kept his pace, reaching closer and closer to his own high. The feeling of you so tight around him had his brain reeling, though he tried to drag it out as long as he could.

He pulled one of your legs to the side, allowing him to lean forward and capture your lips, biting down slowly. He moved his way to your neck, nipping and kissing slightly. All this only added to the sensation of one of his hands on your pussy, the other gripping your thigh and his dick slamming into you.

He moved down to your chest and took one of your breasts into his mouth, tongue running smoothly over your hardening nipple.

You gasped for air, not being able to take anymore, and luckily enough before you could tell geto it was too much, and you couldn’t hold it in anymore, his head pulled back up to your ear and whispered gently into it, granting you permission to cum as he bit the bottom of your ear.

Your cunt fluttered around him as you let all the sensations that would cause you to cum overtake you. You whined and moaned in suguru’s ear, and shortly enough, he let himself go and came inside of you, filling you up.

He groaned deeply, his head falling in between your head and shoulder as he panted heavily and came deeply inside you.

He kissed up your neck until he reached your lips and hovered over them, eyes shut lightly. He opened them up to meet your own gazing back at him.

“Bet you’re sorry now, huh?”

[j4m3s-b4k3r]

MONKEYBONE

Here are some pre-production drawings done for MONKEYBONE, a film directed by Henry Selick. I worked on the film very briefly, perhaps only a week or two, helping with story beat boards. It was a fun gig, in part due to the location in The Presidio.

Nowadays The Presidio is one of the jewels of San Francisco - a truly beautiful parkland for residents to play in - but when I first arrived in San Francisco, it was still a functioning military base. It was already known that it would soon close, however. So discussion about what was next for the site bubbled for the first few years that I lived here. Would it become low income housing? Or yet another swanky property development, as seemed likely. Who else but big money could pay for the cleanup required after the military had left so many toxic cooties (asbestos etc) behind? 

Anyway, while such things were being decided, some of the abandoned buildings would be rented out for short term projects, one being an animated/live action comedy, that was in pre-production circa 1998 (adapted from a graphic novel - DARKTOWN  by Kaja Blackley & Vanessa Chong). I worked on MONKEYBONE in the early, eager, happy, anything-is-possible phase. It may have been so early that our work was merely a proposal, before a ‘green light’. 

Henry himself was in a great spirits, now that he was out of the shadow of Tim Burton, and Chris Columbus was his exec producer. Many of the crew were Henry’s old cronies from Nightmare Before Christmas, such as production designer Bill Boes. He’d already built models of some of the sets & locations, and these were great reference. With a tiny lipstick camera we could shoot the models from all kinds of angles, and this was enormously helpful, allowing myself & Lawrence Marvitt to bang out panels relatively quickly, under the guidance of Mike Cachuela.

Many things had not yet been decided on, such as casting. The protagonist in my sketches here was based on Nicolas Cage, but of course Brendan Fraser got the role of of Stu. Other roles were played by Rose McGowan, Dave Foley, Bob Odenkirk, John Turturro, Whoopi Goldberg, Chris Kattan and even Breaking Bad’s Giancarlo Esposito. The final film really had an amazing cast.

The Presidio was not yet full of dining options, but our workspace wasn’t far from the Presidio gates, where we’d have lunch at Liverpool Lil’s, a great little pub (that has recently burned down, sadly). I also remember a really fun swanky dinner (I forget now where) with the entire tiny pre-pro crew, where Henry was in a jovial mood and writer Sam Hamm was too. Both hilariously regaling us with their Hollywood horror stories (and comparing their scars inflicted by Tim Burton). Best of all, someone else picked up the exorbitant check! (I think it was Sam Hamm?)

Years after my brief stint on MONKEYBONE I got an invite to a preview screening in early 2001. The film was madcap, weird, & even disturbing at times. Much of what I’d thought would be animated was actually handled with costumed humans in the final film, surprisingly. But it was exciting to have worked on a feature film that actually got made. This was a period where I worked on many great projects that collapsed before making it to the screen. I remember enjoying it until the very end, when I saw that I hadn't got a credit (I hadn't worked on it long enough apparently). In the lobby after the screening, there were a lot of concerned/worried/disappointed faces. Whereas I was bummed that my name was was not in the credits, many people seemed unhappy that their names were.

Ha ha!

Sure enough, the film was a financial & critical flop and has low score to this very day (despite a tiny subset of viewers who still love it, and look back on it fondly). I learned that there had been much tussling along the way to the screen. Perhaps the guy who'd done Home Alone was not the right choice to ‘mentor’ Henry? Did things go sideways after Rupert Murdoch fired Bill Mechanic? Or was it merely typical studio meddling? My guess is it was another case of AOTA: all of the above.

Henry himself sums up MONKEYBONE this way:

"I have two thoughts: it never would have been a big hit. It certainly would have done better if they advertised it a little... I would still like to do a Director's Cut because there's a lot of cool stuff that was removed... my main lesson learned is, I don't really do well in the live-action universe... I love my world of stop-motion... I went down a slippery slope to make Monkeybone, but the film that came out it's not my vision of what the film could've been, and I just don't thrive in that.”

Not long after I worked there, the fate of The Presidio was finally decided when George Lucas’ proposal to develop The Letterman hospital into a media centre was accepted in 1999. And it became the mixed-use space SF residents play in today.

----

Just last weekend, we spent a day in The Presidio, enjoying its restaurants & bars and exploring the new Tunnel Tops park. As we strolled around, I tried to figure out which of The Presidio's many buildings we worked in in 1998, but couldn't pin it down (of course, the Letterman hospital complex was levelled to build what became ILM/Lucasfilm, so perhaps the buildings we worked in are gone).

[sallow-tales]

Feather-light Falling – Garreth Weasley x GN!Reader

A/N: Well guys, here it is. Not only the first piece of Hogwarts Legacy fanfiction that I've written, but the first fanfiction I've written in probably 2 years. It's more of a blurb than anything, but I felt incredibly inspired. I'm pretty sure it's gender neutral, but let me know if you catch anything gendered! I hope at least someone likes it

PS: bonus points to anyone who can guess what song inspired me. I tried not to make it obvious.

Word Count: 962

In the crowded pub, Garreth enthusing about his most recent potion venture, it almost feels too good to be true. 

After everything you've been through over the last year, it feels like the world has been waiting with baited breath, for something, anything to happen. It couldn't all be over just like that, could it? 

Anxiety plagued your brain during every spare moment. Every corner you turned around, every darkened room you entered, you half expected to see a dark wizard or goblin on the other side. You couldn't even confide in your normal companions, as your relationship with Ominis and Sebastian was on the rocks after the incident with Uncle Solomon. You'd make it through, you were sure, but you just didn't feel like dumping your problems onto their shoulders, not when they each had so much to worry about on their own.

So when Garreth Weasley of all people approached you, offering his support if you ever needed it, you were considerably more open to the possibility than you'd expected to be.

“Hey, I, uh, I know we aren’t exactly close, but I want you to know that I’m here if you need anything.” His voice was genuine and you could see in his eyes that he saw you struggling. Despite his constant chaos, he’d always been an observant one.

“Thank you Garreth. I appreciate it, I really do.” You smiled politely, expecting that to be the end of the conversation, but then the redhead spoke again.

“Just wanted to make sure you know you’re not alone.” The words were intended to be a closing remark, but they struck a certain chord with you. Alone, that’s how you felt without Professor Fig, without Sebastian and Ominis by your side every moment–you felt alone. In that moment, you realized that you didn’t have to be, at least not right now.

"Actually, would you mind if… Can we just… go to the Three Broomsticks? I could really use a drink."

And thus you found yourself here, entranced with the ginger in front of you against everything you'd ever anticipated.

As you listen to Garreth ramble on, you can’t help but wonder why you hadn’t spent more time with him before. Sure, you’d helped him with a potion mishap on your first day of classes, and then snuck some billywig stings from the Honeydukes cellar when he’d asked, but outside of those few interactions he’d always been someone skirting at the edges of your life; there, but not necessarily of notice. 

Now, he’s there and all you can notice. The spattering of freckles like paint on a canvas, the way he talks with his hands, the quirk to his lips that indicates his sheer excitement at speaking about something he’s passionate about–and actually having someone listen.

Your conversation continues for a while longer and one butterbeer turns into two and then three and you realize that the beverage isn’t the only thing making you feel warm. It’s also the fact that your anxiety isn’t bothering you for the first time in months. It’s the fact that you feel happy and comfortable exactly where you are. It’s a feeling you haven’t known in longer than you can remember.

And as Garreth’s green eyes flick to yours mid sentence, it’s as if everything clicks into place. You’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop for what feels like forever, and it does– not with the jarring thump you’ve been waiting for, but rather the featherlight touch of a snowflake floating softly to the ground.

There’s laughter and smiles and the urge to lean into him is so strong, but you can’t give in. You won’t let yourself give in. You don’t want to risk ruining this moment so artfully and accidentally created. 

Before you know it, curfew is fast approaching and when you realize the time, you instantly wish you hadn’t. You don’t want the night to end, because you fear that this feeling will end with it. Alas, you don’t particularly have another choice, not once he stands and holds his hand out towards you. It’s an invitation, but by no means an obligation. It holds a lifetime of possibilities–companionship, comfort, and the piece currently missing from your soul. You take it, and he carefully leads the two of you out of the crowded pub. 

The walk back to the castle is as slow as you can manage, and at one point or another his arm ends up draped over your shoulder and yours looped loosely around his waist, and you’re giggling and grinning from ear to ear. As far as you can tell, so is he.

When you step into the still air of the castle, you half expect the haze that’s fallen over the two of you to dissipate, but it doesn’t. A pang of doubt flashes through your mind, wondering if he’s even felt a fragment of the same emotions that have been pulsing through you all evening.

But your gaze meets his and you see the fire within him–not a wild blaze, or even the crackle of a fireplace. It’s the soft flickering of a candle, bright but fragile. It carries the capability to warm you, or to be blown out by a single stray breath.

It’s a look that you’re sure is mirrored in your own eyes.

“Do you think we could possibly do this again sometime? It was really nice spending time with you.” Your words are quiet, timid, barely above a whisper. He hears them anyway and he smiles.

“Of course. Anything for you.”

A soft kiss to his cheek signals your departure, but when you glance over your shoulder at him, you could have sworn you saw that candle behind his eyes burn slightly stronger.

[lostdrarryfics]

THE BIG FIND 2023: Day 10

The Big Find is a 10-day long Drarry fic-finding marathon to celebrate the blog’s anniversary. Below is the Day 10 compilation of lost fics, both old and new, that we’ve been unable to find. Our aim is to get as much attention to these lost fics as possible, to help people finally find their missing fics! Anyone can participate by reblogging, reading through each list, providing additional fic details, and informing us the title, author, or link of a fic, and their respective number in the comment section. Happy finding!

10.1 Draco is good and a spy for the light side, I’m not sure if it’s established relationship but he does date harry and one day he found out how lucius basically shame and insult (kinda slutshame) him in the paper, and he kinda has a panic attack and if I’m not mistaken the Weasleys really take care of him. In the end he is pregnant, I’m not sure but I think the title is something like 0.0005 in millions but I can find it.

10.2 The only thing I remember is that Harry is meeting Seamus and Dean with Draco at a diner maybe? Seamus tries to steal food from Harry’s plate and Draco tells him not to do it. Because Harry almost freaked out back in school when Patil tried to do it also. I think it was Lavender who picked some food and Harry’s magic reacted by freezing?/lowered the temp of the Great Hall.

10.3 ao3, chaptered, maybe 8th year but in hogwarts as students. draco stopping himself from completely falling for harry or something, they once went to a club and harry danced (i think it was a lap dance?) in front of draco and their friends. I remember draco taking harry back to his dorm and him leaving a sobering potion for harry to take the next morning because harry was completely drunk that night. I also remember harry regretting what he did the next day. I vaguely remember them both outside a club or pub, draco telling harry to stop what he was asking for because harry has an idea that draco wanted him too and ron saw them both, i don’t know if they kissed or something but harry was drunk. I also remember harry and ginny being close friends and ginny putting on some eyeliner on harry. I also remember ginny dressing up harry and trying things on him or something. and i think at the first scene harry wore these jeans that made his arse looks so good.

10.4 It was before sixth year and before sirius died - maybe end of fourth year or fifth year hols? - and the trio were at grimmauld when narcissa and draco arrive there. apparently narcissa fled from lucius because of voldy and sought refuge at the Black home, not knowing it was the Order’s hq. Eventually the Order lets them stay there, and neither draco nor narcissa go back as a spy.

10.5 looking for a fic that was a one shot. It takes place during sixth year and Draco is having a rough time trying to rebuild the cabinet, but Harry comes up to him because he looks stressed and offers to sleep with him, saying something like “you’d be less of a git if you got laid” (smut ensues but I can’t remember if it was rated M or E). They go to the room of requirement but I know at the end they have a conversation where Harry offers Draco to switch sides.

10.6 completed fic where Harry and Draco work for the ministry (Aurors, I think). Draco is team leader or something like that and pushes the aurors to look for Greyback. Harry thinks he is paranoid to still search for him. But they end up hunting Greyback because Draco’s hunch was right. Draco and Harry always bicker and fight publicly with each other with a lot of inuendo involved. Once they fight in front of the ministry elevators about hunting for Greyback and Harry accuses him of having a relationship with Greyback or something like that. Because of these fights Rita Skeeter that snuck into the ministry as a beetle publishes an article that says the two of them are a couple in secret. So Kingsley (I think) hires another very young reporter (I think Luna’s cousin) to shadow the investigation team to prove otherwise (it doesn’t go as planned). Harry and Draco end up in a lot of compromising situations. Talking about chaining one another or falling and landing on each other when the reporter just enters the room. I think Ron is Harry’s auror partner and there are at least two other members of the team - I think both are OCs. And there was at least one at least in one interrogation with Veritaserum. Unfortunately I don’t know anymore when or where I read the fanfic

10.7 looking for a fic that I read on ao3 but I can only remember a small detail, so no worries if it’s too vague to find it. What I remember is that draco sends molly a gift basket for killing bellatrix and ginny accepts his relationship with Harry because she really liked some of the gifts in the basket.

10.8 Draco is trying to build up a career post war and Harry and he become some sort of reluctant acquaintances. I don’t remember much but there might be some lines which go somewhat like this - “he is my house. I will have to burn everything he touches”. The story is from Draco’s POV

10.9 one of them or both are Aurors and Draco is pretty posh and rich. Somehow Harry has to go after him to Italy or some other beautiful country and he tries to court Draco. I don’t remember if a Auror case is a major point or not.

10.10 looking for a fic that was young Harry and he ran away from the Dursleys early. He does go to Hogwarts but after forwarding his letters to other people like the royal family and hiding from Snape. Gets sorted into Slytherin, good at stealing, even stole McGonagall when she was a cat before she could change back.

10.11 Fred and George send Harry an early birthday present, which is a truth or dare game, which is still in beta testing. The Gryffindors decide to play it. People are in the common room, and slowly they start joining the game. Dean teases Harry that his “type” is tall, blonde, and sarcastic. This happens before Draco joins the game. Eventually the Slytherins also join (they’re the last to join lol) and in this, I guess the game decides to give truth or dare based on your magic or sth, and if you don’t do it, you’re eliminated or sth. And Harry gets some dare to do with Draco obviously ( I think he has to kiss him?) and he does, and the end. Eighth year, hogwarts common room, one shot. Not more than 10k words.

10.12 draco is sentenced as probation to muggle world and works in a bakery then turned into deterioration. Bill helps him and then he returns to hogwarts as professor for potions

10.13 i only remember a specific moment. it’s mpreg and narcissa and harry are with draco while hes in labor and draco asks narcissa if he hurt her coming out, and narcissa said yes and he wasn’t helpful like harry was. and narcissa asks to keep the baby placenta

10.14 i cant remember if it was on ao3 or wattpad. it was titled “home” and the first sentence was something like: “the first time the stranger appeared at the top of the street, thunder rolled and lightning crashed.” the plot: harry disappeared after the final battle, and draco finds him in a muggle village. draco updates harry on the magical world, and romione. harry’s been in love with draco so he sends a letter and draco comes and kisses harry.

[oneweirdbookaddict]

Whumptober day nine!

Y’all remember that town from the FS manga that blamed Red for burning it down? What if Four had to go back there? What if they remembered him?

1372 words

Warnings for (fist)fighting and very brief drunkenness that’s not really described and only a character mentioned once.

“You ok, Smithy?” He asks, just getting a small nod.

“Just… don’t like this town much.” Four mutters, sighing.

He forces a smile. “You don’t like any town.”

Four forces a small twitch of the lips. “Touche, Rancher.”

Their conversation is cut short as they walk into the tavern, Four’s lips pressing together as people glance at them. “Leave. Now.” Four hisses, arm grabbing his.

Before he can respond-

“Hey- Isn’t that the kid that burned down the town last year?”

Four freezes, eyes widening.

He looks down at the smith, frowning.

The whole tavern seems to look at the smith, too, heads craning.

“He looks a little different.”

“Got older is all. That’s him.”

“It wasn’t me. You’ve got the wrong person.” Four says, eyes glancing carefully around the pub.

“You’re a liar!” One man roars, face red and drunken. “We saw you with that firerod!”

“I mean no harm, I’ll leave if you wish-”

“Damn right you will, once I’m finished with you…”

Four’s grey eyes glance up at him. “Twi. Leave.”

“Yeah, right, Four, these people-”

“Let me handle it. Leave.” Four says, still oddly calm.

He hesitates. “Come on, Smithy, have some sense, it’ll be one on-”

“Twi. Leave.” Four repeats. “Get the others and go. Get away from here.”

“Four-”

But the smith turns, pulling a blade out of his belt and twirling it carefully in his hand.

“I don’t want to cause any harm. But I will if you make me. Let me leave and no one has to get hurt.” Four says, voice carrying through the tavern.

The original man laughs. “My wife died in that fire, kid. I’d like some revenge.”

“It. Wasn’t. Me.” Four says slowly, eyes flashing blue.

Then a lot of people are yelling- about things they lost, people who died, blaming Four, insisting Four set the fire, calling him nasty names.

The first person to get physical is a man who’d been watching from the corner, standing and slowly inching closer to Four.

Then rushes at him.

Four dodges the first blow, ducking underneath the sloppy punch thrown at his head. Unfortunately, the action spurs the others into motion, too.

Four’s grabbed from behind, a man grabbing his arms and another at his tunic, yanking him back. The smith is too hesitant to use the knife he has. He merely struggles, kicking with his legs and slamming his heel into a man’s knee.

The man swears with a grunt, releasing Four, who quickly goes for the other man but misses.

Takes a punch right to the face, staggering, and he’s grabbed again before he even has a chance to regain his bearings. A punch to the ribs. Another to the face. In the chest, on the arms, wherever people can get a hold of him.

Four finally starts fighting back.

Swings at a man, kicking another, knife flashing in the dim light.

Four places a knee right between a man’s legs, making him wince as the man drops.

Another slash. A man howls in pain.

A kick and man topples, having his legs swept out underneath him.

Four… actually manages really well for a while. Exchanges blows, takes a few hard ones, but dishes far more than he takes.

He’d lost his knife at some point, but he’s doing alright without it. And he hadn’t been using it much to begin with.

It’s not until one woman gets him from behind that he loses his edge- she manages to get behind him, bottle in her hands, smashing it right over his head.

He winces, deciding it’s time to jump in, regardless of Four’s wishes.

The smith staggers, eyes glazing over, dropping to his knees.

And the tavern breaks into cheers.

His blood boils, hands yanking his sword out and shoving people out of the way as he frantically tries to get to the smith.

They absolutely dogpile on the teenager, one man holding Four’s arms once again as another punches, another one kicks, one has gotten the knife Four had dropped-

His mind flashes white.

“Leave him alone!” He growls, twirling his sword. Much to his satisfaction, many of the others stare in surprise at him and quickly back away.

He kicks the man holding Four in the chest, hearing the snap of at least a few of his ribs. He staggers, falling to the ground and staying down.

Grabs one of the ones punching the kid, shoving him roughly into the crowd and knocking several of them down.

Makes his way to Four, no one else even going for them.

“Four.” He says quickly, grey eyes dazedly meeting his. “Let’s get out of here.”

He tries to be gentle, but anger and worry make his voice rough. Four flinches.

His blood boils as he takes Four’s arm, getting the smith to his feet, grabbing his sword and leading him out of the tavern.

The scowl on his face keeps anyone else from bothering them- and possibly all their injuries as well.

Four limps heavily, hands grabbing at his side, slightly hunched over as they walk.

His nose is bleeding- likely broken- blood smeared all over his face and dripping down his face onto his clothes, one eye already swollen shut, purple splotches already blossoming over his face and other visible skin.

Leans heavily on him, breathing labored.

He doesn’t stop moving until Four starts coughing, doubling over and blood bubbling out of his mouth. Spitting weakly, hand shakily wiping his mouth.

Then Four’s knees buckle, yelping in pain when he quickly grabs at the smith.

“Sorry- sorry! Goddess, Four, I’m sorry!” He says quickly, easing Four to the ground.

Four gives these raspy, painful sounding gasps, blood coating his lips.

Lung is most likely punctured, he realizes, chest sinking.

“Ok, Smithy, we gotta move, need me to carry you?” He asks, but Four gives no response.

Likely focusing on not suffocating.

Despite that, Four staggers to his feet.

Grimacing, hands- with very broken knuckles- grabbing weakly at his sleeve to stay upright, letting him lead them through town to the others.

“Time!” He shouts upon finding the other, the leader and Wind both turning immediately.

Then the old man rushes to them, already digging through his bag. “Do I even want to know?”

“No way Four got into a bar fight.” Wind cackles, but it stops quickly as Four wheezes.

Time falters as his gaze darts over Four, realizing just how badly he’s injured.

“Goddess,” Time swears. “What happened?”

“Some drunk people thought he burnt the town down- decided they wanted revenge.” He tries as Time comes up empty handed.

“Wars and Legend went to find potions.” Time sighs, turning to Wind.

“On it.” The sailor says immediately, darting off. He eases Four to the ground, the smith wheezing worse.

“Easy, Smithy, slow in, slow out.” He says gently.

Four’s grey eyes flutter.

“Wind will be back. You’ll be ok.” He says softly, using his sleeve to try to wipe some of the blood off his face.

Time produces a rag and some water, cleaning Four’s face off then holding the rag to his still bleeding nose.

“We need to get something on that eye, it looks awful.” Time mutters, testing the temperature of the water. “This is cold enough…”

He provides another rag that Time dampens, holding it to Four’s eye.

Four’s hand weakly tries to knock it away, and they both pause.

The smith gives a weak cough, wincing.

Then another, blood spotting his lips.

“Cough it up, Four, get it out of your lungs.” He mutters, rubbing Four’s back.

Gets a weak groan, but another few coughs.

Time gently wipes the blood away, holding the rag back to his nose.

“Hurts.” Four grits out, eyes squeezing shut as he leans his head back.

His breathing is… awful. Sharp, painful sounding gasps.

“You have to breathe, Four. Slower. In… out…”

“Can’t.”

“Four- nope, c’mon, kid, eyes open, just breathe with me.”

Four slumps against him, giving a sharp hiss under his breath.

“You’re ok, bud, just breathe.” He says softly, hand brushing carefully through Four’s hair. “We’ll get you a potion, you’ll be alright. Wind will be back soon. Just hang on, bud.”

Four gives no response.

~~~~

[joes-sha-la-la-la-girl]

Love Bites: Chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Two months passed by slowly for Y/N as she couldn’t wait to go on tour. Ultraviolet celebrated Christmas and New Year together, having a good time drinking and just being boisterous.

Finally the time had come for the tour to start. Doug has been begging to go with them since ‘Rock of Ages’ was filmed but Y/N put her foot down. She remembered the disastrous conversation that ended the discussion.

*

“Doug for the last time, why would you want to come on tour?” Y/N asked as she ran a hand through her hair.

“To spend time with my girlfriend, is that too much to ask?”

“Doug we’ve been over this.” Y/N groaned.

“And it seems that we have to go over it again. I should come with you.”

“What about all your complaining about lack of money. You are the one who is insistent that I get a ‘real job’ yet you are more than happy to quit yours. What will we do for money then?” Y/N had to admit that maybe it was wrong of her to pull that card but for the last month and a half Doug had been going on at her about joining on tour. Nobody else’s partner would be joining and Ultraviolet simply couldn’t afford the extra expense of another person.

That and she didn’t want him there. She wanted to enjoy this time and not have another repeat of the night in the pub after their show. Y/N dread to think what Def Leppard really thought of her after Doug’s little performance then.

“Fine. You probably don’t want me there so you can fuck whoever you want.” Doug spat at her and with that he turned around and stormed off.

*

Doug hadn’t mentioned anything about joining her on tour again, but passive aggressive comments were made, making Y/N countdown the days until she would leave. Of course to start with they would be in between the UK and Europe and in the middle of March they would be going to America until the end of June.

The day they had to leave, Doug was barely talking to Y/N. He seemed to still have a chip on his shoulder and Y/N wasn’t going to do anything to cause an argument. She was too excited for that. 

She double checked that she had everything packed and sat all her bags by the front door. Benji would be coming by to pick her up for the first venue along with his girlfriend. They had to be early to sort out their luggage. Doug had said nothing about seeing her off, which made her relax a little bit. At least she wouldn’t have to risk a scene in public, or in front of Def Leppard.

“I’m now off.” Y/N called as she saw Benji pull in outside. She didn’t get a response and sighed to herself as she went to go find Doug. He sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea. It was obvious that he could hear her shout for him.

“I’m going now.” She told him as he continued to look away from her.

“I heard.”

“Fine. I’ll see you in a few months then. With that she made her way to the front door and collected her bags. Doug had followed and stood a few steps behind her. 

“You’ll call won’t you?” Doug asked her, causing her to turn around. If Y/N didn’t know him as well as she did then she might have thought he cared. But she knew that he only wanted to keep checking up on her. To keep the peace she nodded her head and opened the front door.

No more words were shared between the two as Y/N picked up her bags and made her way to Benji’s car.

“He let you come then?” Benji spoke as soon as she shut the door.

“Reluctantly, yes.”

That was all that was said on the matter. 

*

When they got to the venue, Y/N and Benji were met with Tammy and Johnny who had come together. The aura of excitement that surrounded the four was thick as they waited to put their bags on the bus they would be using. It was nothing fancy but enough for the four of them.

Y/N heard a commotion coming from behind her, where the five Leppards were making their way towards them, all of them displaying the same energy as Ultraviolet. 

“Are we all ready?” Joe asked as he clapped his hands together. Everyone cheered like a bunch of children, earning odd looks from the venue staff. Peter Mensch and Ultraviolet’s manager Gavin came up to the group, smiles on their faces. 

“It’s great to see you all getting along so well. You will all be spending a lot of time together over the next few months.” Peter told them all as he looked at Gavin.

“So if Y/N, Tammy, Johnny and Benji want to come with me and we’ll sort your bags out then go to soundcheck.” Gavin looked in between the people he was talking to. Y/N could feel the adrenaline build up inside of her, all her dreams about to come true. A quick bye was said between the bands before they went their separate ways with their luggage. 

As Ultraviolet weren’t that popular yet they didn’t have the money for over the top stage outfits so they made due with what they had at home. This meant that the band were responsible for their own clothes and that they had more bags to transport with them. 

After they dropped their bags off, Ultraviolet made their way to soundcheck. This would be the biggest crowd that Ultraviolet had played in front of and throughout soundcheck, Y/N could feel the nerves creeping up on her. She was getting reassuring looks from Tammy who could already tell from her best friend’s demeanour that she was scared.

However, there was one person in the room who managed to calm Y/N down. Joe had come to watch, along with Sav and Rick. No one could guess where Phil and Steve were. As Y/N sang into the microphone, she made eye contact with Joe who had a gentle smile on his face. The kind of smile that could put all the world to rights and it was directed at her.

The butterflies in her stomach were going haywire as her focus was on him. It was like his gaze was removing any worry from her whilst his smile was uplifting her to perform to the best of her ability.

At the end of their soundcheck, they made way for Def Leppard to do theirs. Y/N went backstage to the makeshift dressing room that was set up for them. Due to lack of room, the two bands would be sharing and Y/N and Tammy would have to change in the bathroom for some modesty.

Y/N was sitting backstage doing her makeup when Def Leppard finished. The rest of Ultraviolet were dotted around the room and chatter filled the previously peaceful silence immediately. Smiling at them all, Y/N stood up and went to her small bag where she had that evening's outfit stored before she went to the bathroom to change. 

Trying not to take too long, she quickly swapped her clothes before putting her jeans and old t-shirt in the bag. As she walked out of the bathroom she was met with something solid.

“Sorry love.” She heard a familiar deep voice announce as he put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. Y/N peered up into Joe’s green eyes.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going, sorry.” Y/N told him as she found herself still in his grasp.

“Don’t worry Y/N.” Joe smiled at her. “You were great earlier.” He told her, referencing the soundcheck.

“Thank you.” She squeaked, which made Joe smile even more, showing the dimple on his left cheek.

The two stood there in silence as they stared into each other’s eyes. Joe thought that she might just be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, especially as she looked up at him with those doe eyes of hers.

They hadn’t realised how long they had been standing there until they heard two people clearing their throats. Looking over they saw Sav and Tammy watching them.

Would anyone like to be tagged when I update this series?

[catb-fics]

Forbidden Part 1

I have so many parts to post before I can get up to date with this story! Student/Professor AU. Cliché as fuck I know but it has been so much fun to write 🖤

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: None really for this part… just Van’s skin tight jeans 🤭

Story Masterlist Main Masterlist

"Remember the coursework's due in on Friday. The deadline's 2pm. I won't be accepting any excuses."

You feel your heart sink at your lecturer's words. You'd barely even cobbled together enough material to write a 1000 word report, let alone the mammoth 6000 word essay that needed to be submitted. And it definitely needed to be submitted. You were barely scraping through as it was, teetering on the edge of failure. Another unsatisfactory module mark and your chances of progressing on to the second year were looking pretty bleak.

It's not that you couldn't cope with the content of the BA History course you'd joined the previous year in September. You were certainly bright enough. In fact with your A Level grades you had probably sold yourself short in picking your current university. You'd not chosen it on its academic merits or league table rankings though, you'd blindly followed your boyfriend there who'd bagged himself a full sports scholarship playing football whilst studying Sports Science. What you hadn't banked on was finding him in a compromising position with the student coach of the ladies volleyball team only a month into the first semester.

Things had swiftly gone downhill from there. All of a sudden poring over textbooks in the evening was replaced with downing shots in the Students Union bar. You told yourself you were having fun, you were only young once, it was just the first term, you had plenty of time to buckle down and better your weak grades after Christmas, but unfortunately your first semester exam marks were a harsh wake up call. If you didn't pull your socks up you'd be out of the course and off campus by the time early summer rolled around. And then Professor McCann came on to the scene...

Professor Ryan Evan McCann or 'Van' as he urged the students to call him was a recent addition to the Faculty staff. Fresh from his PhD studies and eager to teach, he'd fast become a firm favourite amongst both staff and students alike. He was friendly, enthusiastic and always took the time to explain the course content thoroughly. But it wasn't just his engaging teaching style which saw his module fast oversubscribed with keen students. He was drop dead gorgeous, and the flurry of excited whispers that had flowed around the lecture theatre when he'd stepped up to the lectern to deliver a short introduction on semester two options day had less to do with real excitement for the subject, and more to do with the tightness of his skinny jeans and his piercing blue eyes. You could practically hear the collective sigh from most of the females in the room... and a few of the males too.

And now here you were, three weeks into the term, your self-made promises of turning over a new leaf looking more and more like empty vows as night after night you ventured out rather than taking your studies seriously. Not even the thought of impressing your attractive professor was enough to tempt you away from two-for-one cocktails at the Union club nights.

In fact he'd been the main reason you'd been out until two in the morning the night before. It had started innocently enough. Loud cheers and cheeky remarks as the usual gang of revellers from your hall of residence had spotted Van and a male colleague enjoying a quiet early evening pint in the corner of a bar in the town centre. You'd struck up banter backwards and forwards across the room until Van had caved and agreed to join you all at the next bar in your planned pub crawl. Pint after pint had been sunk, and soon enough it was impossible to tell exactly who the responsible adult was. You'd all seen another side to Professor McCann, a fun, reckless, impulsive side which only served to make him all the more attractive. If only you'd not had that last cocktail you probably would have been able to restrain yourself.

You cringed internally as you recalled bumping into him as he was coming out of the toilets at the nightclub you'd ended up at. How you'd grabbed the lapels of his shirt and backed him into the wall of the narrow corridor, showering him with compliments which he'd awkwardly rebuffed. If you'd left it at that you probably could have laughed it off, kept your head down for a few lectures and there would have been no harm done, but you hadn't. Spurred on by your drunken state and your worries about flunking the course, you did something bad. Something you weren't going to recover from with a flushed face and an awkward apology.

You'd propositioned him.

One hand flat against the wall, the other toying with his belt buckle before slipping down to firmly caress between his legs as he looked back at you wide-eyed and disbelievingly.

"So... Sir," you'd slurred, voice thick with inebriation. "Is there anything I can do to help me pass your module this semester?"

You'd seen a spark of something in his eyes, but it was only fleeting. He'd quickly recovered, firmly pushing you back, hands on your shoulders, spinning you around so you were now the one against the wall.

"Y/N... you're drunk," he'd stated. "I'd think very carefully about your next actions if I were you or you're going to get yourself into a situation that's beyond your control."

"Ooh... d'ya like being in control then?" You'd giggled, pouting suggestively, reaching for him again.

He'd grabbed your wrists, hard, his grip firm as he pushed them back against the wall. "I mean it. Don't make me do something I'll regret."

His eyes flashed dangerously, boring into you for a long moment before he pushed himself back from the wall, releasing you and then stepping away, muttering that he was leaving.

You let him go.

It was supposed to be a warning, a show of his authority to deter you, but it didn't have the desired effect. In fact it did the exact opposite, and as you stumbled home and into bed that night all you could think of was his hands on your wrists, pinning you back against the wall. How it would feel if his lips had met yours and his body had pressed against you.

You fell asleep that night full of thoughts of him running through your head and woke up just hours later, hungover and restless, your head pounding.

"Come on Y/N, you've got a 9 o' clock lecture. You can't be late again."

Your best friend and room-mate Lizzie had appeared at your bedside, holding a glass of water in one hand and a couple of paracetamol in her other open palm. You'd raised your head stiffly, blinking at the harsh sunlight and groaning before sinking your head back down into your pillow face-first.

"Y/N!" she'd grumbled, louder this time. "Hangover or not, you're gonna be in so much trouble if you don't go to McCann's lecture."

The sound of his name reverberated around your head, bringing to mind images of you blatantly  throwing yourself at him the previous night. You considered just pulling the covers up over your head and blocking out the day, but you knew Lizzie was right. If Van decided to fail you then you were out, no second chances. If you even still had a place on the course after your shameful behaviour.

You'd grudgingly dragged yourself out of bed, dutifully swallowing the painkillers and the entire glass of water, then slunk off to the shower.

You'd kept your head down, quite literally, for the whole of your two hour lecture. If it had been any other academic up there presenting the material you would surely have dozed off by now, but you weren't going to miss a second of Van. It captivated you how he commanded every student's attention, his obvious enthusiasm shining through as he animatedly delivered the lecture. And what's more, despite being out until the early hours on a brutal pub crawl like you were, he didn't look hungover at all. In fact he looked fresh as a daisy and even more devastatingly handsome than normal. How the fuck did he even do that?

"Remember the coursework's due in on Friday. The deadline's 2pm. I won't be accepting any excuses."

So here you are, fuzzy-headed and shame-faced, trying to keep your head down as you merge into the steady stream of students as they file out of the lecture room. A sigh of relief is waiting with the big inhale you've taken as you step past Van, eyes fixed firmly on the carpet as you notice his boots in your peripheral vision. You’re nearly there, the threshold of the doorway just inches away...

"Y/N... I'd like a word please."

It isn’t a question. You don’t have a choice. You stop in your tracks, letting the remaining students slip past you, waiting until the last one walks through the exit and the door’s closed behind them.

It’s quiet in the room, stiflingly so, and it makes your heart pound with a raw kind of nervousness as you turn slowly, eventually looking up at Van as you come to a stop facing him.

You’re expecting him to look stern and disappointed in you, a disapproving glare to show that you've let him and yourself down, so when you clock the slight smirk simmering at the edge of his lips you’re taken aback. Your cheeks flush a deep shade of scarlet as he holds you locked in his gaze.

"How's the head?"

You giggle girlishly, overcome with a shyness that doesn’t usually afflict you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "Oh, it's... errr... it's... I've been better I suppose... Look... about last night..."

You tail off, see his eyebrows raise expectantly as he cocks his head to look at you, his smirk widening. He knows you’re mortified and he’s thoroughly enjoying this. This is how he’s going to punish you, but you deserve to squirm. You suppose a touch of humiliation is a small price to pay for your actions. Especially as trying to bribe your way into an academic's pants to get an honours degree is grounds for an instant expulsion.

You carry on awkwardly, stumbling over your words, tongue-tied and pathetic. "I'm... really sorry. I was just... drunk... I... errr... I didn't really mean it."

"So what did you mean Y/N? Do you want to enlighten me?"

He takes a step towards you and you counter it, then another and another and then you feel your back hit the wall. You take a deep breath, holding it, your mind scrambling for a fitting response.

"I just... I... I don't know..."

"You thought you'd just suck my cock and I'd award you a First? Is that it?"

This hits you like a slap in the face and you let your exhale go quickly, your mouth falling agape.

It’s the way he says it, matter-of-factly like you’re discussing a mundane topic and not a sexual act in payment for your success. He isn’t flustered in the slightest, in fact he looks calm and collected. In control. It makes your heart race and that wild, wayward part of you come to life. The part that takes chances and doesn’t conform.

You look at him right back, a challenge you aren’t backing down from.

"And what if I was? What then?"

A spark lights in his eyes and he isn’t hiding it this time, it simmers there with a tension that you feel in every fibre of your being as your nerve endings bristle with electricity.

"Well... I couldn't just leave it ignored. You'd need to be punished of course."

His words light a fire between your legs as a dark part of you stirs and comes to life. Your pulse races and your breathing deepens.

"Van..." you begin, but your words don't come.

They catch in your throat as he leans in, one hand flat on the wall and the other rising up, two of his fingers trailing gently down your jaw. You swallow deeply, anticipation thick in the air as his fingers come to rest on your chin, tipping your head back so you have no choice but to look up at him.

"It's not Van to you, it's Sir... You got that?"

"Yes... Sir..."

It comes out like a whisper, breathy and full of desire. His lips curl up into a devilish smile as he looks down on you. There’s a long moment where you just look at each other, your heart thudding hard in your chest, your fingers twitching at your sides as you long to reach out for him, tangle your fingers in his hair, grasp at his hips as you push your own against him. Anything... anything to satisfy the ache between your thighs.

But it isn’t happening. He steps back, eyes still on you as he backs up, watching you carefully.

"Don't be late for my lecture tomorrow... or there will be consequences."

Then you watch as he turns and walks away, pushing through the door without so much as a look behind him, leaving you there breathless and wanting, coiled tightly like a spring.