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suga-kookiemonster · 6 months

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ctrl-alt-del | jjk (teaser)

summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.) pairing⇢ jungkook/reader teaser word count⇢ 1.4k genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au warnings⇢ nothing too bad for this teaser! just a mention of oral

a/n⇢this fic has literally been sitting in my wips for YEARS lmao. i feel like it's finally time to set it free 🕊️✨ it's looking like it's gonna lean more towards pwp, but there's definitely still enough plot in there to keep it interesting. not sure when it will be up, but wanted to share a snippet to get your thoughts and get myself excited to finish the last leg--fingers crossed for the next month or so 🤞🏾🙌🏾💜

When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.

Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.

You’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every couple of weeks, the company sponsors an employee barbecue were everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.

“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”

Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though as sweet as can be, she has no filter, and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in some situations where you found it inappropriate. Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate (instead of your measly Assistant)means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started, and she is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing.).

“I think it’s nice,” you reply. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”

“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”

Your eyes dart to said Sales boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?

An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”

“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.

“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”

“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.

The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards speaking about inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.

“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.

He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue buttonup. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.

The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.

“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”

Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”

“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”

“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”

“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”

He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up.

“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.

“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”

“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.

Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.

Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”

“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”

“IT guy?” you ask, hoping to slide past that last remark.

“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. The rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.

Wendy scoffs. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”

“Soccer game?” you ask.

“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy informs you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”

To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching him run back and forth across the grass.

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #bts fic #mine #fic: ctrl alt del #bby

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sunderwight · 8 months

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thinking about reverse SVSSS AU where the demon characters are human and the human characters are demons (LBH is still both), but cultivation society operates more like MDZS so that the demon characters can preserve their ruthless clan politics and inheritance systems, and but demon society (which the formerly human characters are now part of) operates more like the ghosts in TGCF, where it's mostly a free-for-all of powerful demons establishing whatever kind of system they please in whatever space they can carve out. I think that'd preserve the meritocracy elements and "twelve different sects in a trench coat" qualities that cang qiong has as an organization.

so the peaks are instead these sort of liminal space cities which are ruled by the most powerful/influential demons, who choose their successors (at least ostensibly) based purely on talent and ability. instead of the sprawling alternate dimension demonic realms of PIDW, they're more like pocket dimensions which can only be accessed if you know the secret ways, existing in the shadows of otherwise seemingly normal towns, mountains, cities, forests, etc. humans sometimes wander into them by mistake, although whether they can get back out again or not depends a lot on which demon lord's domain they were unlucky enough to stumble upon.

Mobei Jun and Sha Hualing are still the heirs of their respective sects/clans, which are among the most powerful sects around. The CQMS peak lords are the rulers of twelve allied demon settlements. Tianlang Jun was the heir of the strongest sect, sort of like Wen Ruohan if Wen Ruohan's biggest motivation was to have his Hot Girl Summer rather than conquering everything, but after his and Zhuzhi Lang's disappearances their sect lost a lot of clout. Su Xiyan hailed from a wealthy demon phantom palace, known for its exceptional hostility towards humans (this version of HHP definitely literally eats people).

The demons-turned-humans are still exactly as cutthroat and dubious as in PIDW. Sha Hualing still wants to kill her father to take his position, Mobei Jun's uncle still tries to assassinate him, the cultivation world has an underground business in trafficking demon body parts (officially decried, but unofficially often consumed to help boost cultivation or create certain tools), the sects often go to war with one another and tend to wreak havoc on the secular human governments and societies whenever they do. All that sort of stuff.

On the humans-turned-demons end, demons in this setting are sometimes born the same way as humans -- two parents of compatible genital orientation get it on and some months later etc etc, which is how siblings like Liu Qingge and Liu Mingyan happen. But sometimes demons also just sort of manifest out of concentrated pockets of demonic energy. Some demons come from humans (SJ and YQY were both born from the unquiet ghosts of slave children), some come from animals (SQH was a pet hamster who was tormented enough to become a demon hamster, and then cultivated enough to take on a human shape), some come from collisions of powerful elemental forces such as volcanoes or floods (Su Xiyan).

So demons have a lot of apprenticeship and teacher-and-student style familial relationships, and demons looking to build families often will risk venturing out into the human realms and trying to find other isolated demons to bring into their fold. Demons alone in the human world are highly vulnerable to being hunted, killed, or enslaved. This is also why there's such a high percentage of "orphans", and contributes even more to a demon like SJ (no parents) resenting a demon like Luo Binghe (found and adopted by a kindly older demon almost right away).

So in the original PIDW, Luo Binghe is a kid who thinks he's a demon and grows up under the cruel and resentful talons of the Lord of Qing Jing, Shen Qingqiu. Every twenty or so years the demon settlements manifest much more strongly in the human realms, during which time they are a lot more vulnerable to attacks from humans. To help deal with this this, the demon rulers traditionally host big, dramatic, scary events that bring everyone within a certain geographic range together, the better to put any righteous sects off the idea of trying to single them out and attack. Most of the smaller settlements clear out entirely in preparation, leaving "ghost towns" where the buildings appear but the demons and anything too valuable to risk leaving behind are all gone.

This Demonic Alliance Conference is a time for contests, trials, matchmaking, partying, festive hunts, trading, and big displays of power. What could be a massive weakness instead becomes a big celebration, and a time for mingling and making new connections.

In PIDW, after suffering years of abuse at the hands of his cruel master, Luo Binghe attends the DAC in hopes of securing some better place for himself in demonic society. But when the righteous sects launch an unprecedented attack on the event, his human heritage is revealed, and Shen Qingqiu tosses him into the twilight space between realms in disgust. Binghe is forced to navigate the hollow and desolate place, locked into his newly-revealed and very weak human form, until he bonds with the legendary Xin Mo blade and effects his escape. Then he sets about bringing the righteous sects to heel (his bloodline means he's heir to one of the biggest sects around, even if they've fallen on hard times the past 20 or so years) and of course conquering the demon realms, and taking revenge on Shen Qingqiu, all while accumulating a record number of wives.

Shen Yuan transmigrates into Demon Lord Shen Qingqiu, ruler of Qing Jin settlement, a haunted bamboo forest in the most cursed mountain range ever.

Downsides -- he's of course destined to be dismembered and/or shoved into a pickle pot by the protagonist.

Upsides -- he's a demon with amazingly awesome demon traits! He has talons! Fangs! WINGS! Also, Binghe is a little demon bun and he is so cute, like a puppy with his fluffy wolf ears and baby claws and darling bright red eyes. Who could ever persecute such an adorable monster boy?! His tail literally wags when he's excited!

Plus Shen Yuan gets to spend as much time investigating cool beasts and other demons as he likes. He's in heaven. Well, not literally of course, but for his standards. Pretty close. Almost worth the price of admission!

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #bingqiu #for this I think also that heavenly demons aren't really a thing #so lbh is actually more over-powered on his human side thanks to the sect/clan system and the political weight of his bloodline

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bloatedandalone04 · 7 months

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No One Else

➪the one where you throw a housewarming party, and a.j. isn’t fond of all the guys staring at you in his new living room.

Warnings: this man is such a dom i swear, smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, swearing, pda, jealous a.j., alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 3.4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

A.J. hated house parties. He would much rather go out to the club or a bar as he felt like the parties he threw at his apartment got too crowded too quickly.

But he was doing this for you.

About three months ago A.J. asked you to move in with him. He loved you more than anything else and he wanted you around him all the time, and you felt the same way. You agreed and moved out of your small loft and into his massive condo across the city.

While you were used to the city life, you were a bit overwhelmed since he was in the middle of it all. It was loud and chaotic whenever you opened the sliding door of the balcony, and the lights kept you up at night. You didn’t say anything about it, not wanting to give A.J. any ideas, but it wasn’t long until he discovered your distaste for this side of the city.

It was a big difference to where you lived previously, and he felt guilty about the sudden change.

So he offered to move away from all of it, to give up the city life he had been living in for around twelve years for a cute and modern house in a neighborhood just outside the city.

He let you have full control over pretty much everything in the house; from the appliances in the kitchen to the paint color in the living room. A.J. gave you his credit card and told you to go crazy, and you really took his words and ran with them.

You bought countless pieces of furniture and when they arrived at the home, A.J. spent a good day and a half building them with Jake.

Now, a full week after settling into the new place, you decided to throw a house party to really break it in.

The house was a lot bigger than his apartment, so it wasn’t as crowded, but he still hated having so many people in his personal space. But A.J. knew it was all worth it when he caught your eye from across the living room and saw the way your lips turned upwards into a happy smile.

He really would do anything for you without an ounce of hesitation.

A.J. crossed the room after wrapping up his conversation with Jesse, and his hands found their home on your waist as he stood behind you. He knew you were smiling as you listened to the story Rachel was telling you, and that smile only grew when he leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“You two are so cute, seriously,” Rachel beamed, finishing off her drink with a smile. “I can confidently say you were made for each other.”

“Just like you and Jake,” came your sweet reply and A.J. felt the corners of his mouth lift upwards as you sipped on your wine.

“Speaking of,” he trailed off, lifting his head and looking around the packed room. “Where is your fiancé, Rach?”

Rachel furrowed her brows as she, too, looked around the room. “I’m not sure, actually,” she answered. “Let me know if you find him, and let me know if he looks like he’s had too much to drink. If he’s plastered, tell him he’s sleeping on the couch when we get home.”

A.J. laughed as he kissed the side of your neck before moving away from you. “Will do,”

“Come find me later,” you requested in a soft voice, smiling at him afterwards. “I shouldn’t miss you this much in our own house.”

A.J. held back a groan as he moved towards you again and firmly gripped your jaw, pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. You grin against his lips and tangle your free hand in his hair, his lack of hat tonight making it very easy. “Damn, baby,” he muttered as he pulled away and you ran the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip. “You make a guy not want to leave.”

You grin at him and shrug. “Hurry back, Jay,”

He bit his lip as he nodded and turned to go seek out his best friend. He found Jake in the kitchen talking to John, and they both looked like they were on the verge of being wasted. “A.J.! Hey, buddy!” Jake greeted as the tattooed man entered the room. “This is a nice place you got here.”

“Yeah, man, I like how secluded it is,” John added as he looked around the room. “You buy it with that two million we snagged from those transport trucks?” He asked loudly and A.J. had to deliver a quick slap to his shoulder to stop John from exposing the source of his income to all his new neighbors.

And there were a lot of them.

The neighborhood you were now living in was well populated, and you had taken it upon yourself to invite all of them to the party in hopes to get to know them. A.J. wasn’t very fond of strangers in his house, but it was just another thing he forced himself to deal with since he was so in love with you.

“Keep your voice down,” A.J. muttered as John gave him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, man,” he laughed. “Your new neighbors were very generous with their housewarming gifts.” John held up the bottle of champagne with a bow tied around it, and A.J. just shook his head.

“Just try not to tell the guests all our secrets, yeah?”

John nodded and gave him a salute before wandering off towards the dining room where Gordon was. “A.J., buddy, I never thought I’d see you get out of the city, man,” Jake said as he leaned against the counter with a beer in his hand.

“You and me both,” he murmured as he took the half empty bottle from Jake.

“The things we do for the women we love, huh?” Jake asked as he moved to sit down at the kitchen table.

“Speaking of, Rachel told me that if I saw you and you were drunk, I have to tell you that you’re sleeping on the couch,” A.J. informed the tipsy man, who just laughed.

“She might say that, but she can’t sleep without me, man, I’m like her personal pillow,”

A.J. shook his head and set the bottle on top of the fridge, knowing damn well that Jake could easily reach it. “Good thing she’s marrying you then,”

“Hey, when are you and your girl getting married?” Jake asked as he grabbed a handful of chips and ate them all at once. “You’ve been together about as long as Rachel and I have, when are you gonna ask her the question?”

“I don’t know, man,” A.J. answered as he avoided the crumbs flying out of Jake’s mouth with each word he said. “Soon.”

“You have the ring, don’t you?”

A.J. nodded and Jake grabbed one of the cookies off the dessert plate on the table. “Yeah, I’m just waiting for the right time,”

Jake leaned back just as Rachel entered the kitchen and made her way over to the two guys. “Don’t wait too long, buddy,” he advised as Rachel moved to stand next to him. “Putting a ring on this one’s finger was the best decision I ever made.” He wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s waist as he smiled up at her.

Rachel laughed as she draped her arm around Jake’s shoulders. “You’re planning on proposing?” She asked with excitement lacing her voice. “Do it soon, then Y/n/n and I can be engaged at the same time. Ooh, maybe a double wedding!”

A.J. shook his head with a smile as he looked towards the doorway, expecting to see you enter at any second since Rachel was now in here. When you didn’t, he glanced at your best friend and asked, “Where is she, anyway? You leave her to get lost in her own house?”

Rachel playfully rolled her eyes. “No, I was just making sure this guy was behaving,” she nudged Jake, who just continued smiling up at her. “Last I saw her, she was talking to the next door neighbor who hasn’t been able to take his eyes off her all night.”

A.J.’s smile faded at that and he left the kitchen without saying another word. Rachel and Jake’s conversation faded into the background as he entered the living room again, and instead of finding you where he left you by the sliding door, you were by the couch and talking to some dark haired guy.

While he knew he had no reason at all to be jealous, seeing as this was his own fucking living room he shared with you, A.J. still didn’t like seeing you around guys who clearly just wanted to sleep with you.

And this guy did a very bad job at hiding the fact that he wanted to fuck you.

A.J. made his way over to you, receiving a slap on his shoulder from Jesse as he did so. You wanted him to find you later, and he was more than ready to take you up on that offer now.

Your eyes drifted from the brunet and met A.J.’s, and a smile formed on your lips, instantly replacing the barely hidden look of boredom on your face.

The guy probably thought you were smiling at him, but A.J. sorted him out pretty quickly as he stepped around the stranger and wrapped his arm around your waist. He pulled you into his side and he didn’t even bother glancing at the guy’s face before he was pressing a deep kiss to your mouth.

You return it immediately and lean into his touch when he lifts his free hand up to grip your jaw and angle your head, and you willingly give him full control of the kiss. He slowly pulls away and smirks at the way you keep your eyes closed for a few more seconds before he looks over at the guy, who did not look happy at all. “New friend, baby?” He asked, making you open your eyes and look over as well.

“Um, this is….Dean?” You question and A.J. held back a laugh at the offended look Dean gave you. “He’s our new neighbor, Jay.”

“Nice to meet you,” A.J. said and ignored Dean’s outstretched hand as he turned back to you and leaned in close. “Do you know how badly I want to fuck you right now?” He asked under his breath as Dean stood awkwardly next to him.

Your eyes widen and you let out a startled laugh. “A.J,” you gasp quietly and look over at your neighbor with a blush.

A.J. glanced over at him, too, before beginning to pull you towards the half-bath next to the hallway that led to yours and his room. You feebly waved at Dean as A.J. made a show of guiding you into the bathroom, a smug smirk on his lips when he saw Dean’s glare.

Once he entered the bathroom as well, he closed the door and locked it before pushing you up against it. “I gotta say, baby,” he murmured as his hands pulled up the black material of your dress. “I’m not a big fan of our new neighbors.”

You lean your head back against the door as he bunches your dress around your hips and teased your clit through the thin material of your panties. “Why? Not friendly enough?”

A.J. grunted as he pushed the lace material down your legs and let it drop to the tiled floor. “They’re too friendly,” he answered as he picked you up and set you down on the marbled countertop.

You squeal at the cold surface against your burning skin and cling onto his shoulders. “Fuck, A.J.,” you mumble and tug at his suspenders. “What’s gotten into you? You were fine when you left to go find Jake.”

He would never admit that he was jealous of that prick in his living room, so he shrugged and kissed along your shoulders. “Nothings gotten into me,” he said under his breath. “But hopefully I can get into you.”

You moan loudly, despite being able to clearly hear the party guests outside the door. “Well, when you say it like that,” you tease and drop your hands to the button on his dress pants. “But we have to be quick, Jay. We’re hosting right now.”

“Fuck them,” he rasped as he reached his hand in between your bodies and sunk his index and middle fingers into your heat. “Fuck everyone out there, baby. We’re in our house. I should take you back out there and fuck you right on that couch.”

You moan at his dirty words and run your hands through his hair, successfully making it messy. No one else got that privilege as he usually spent a good ten minutes doing his hair - just to throw a hat over it, but he would happily let you mess it up whenever you wanted. “You’d actually do it, too,”

A.J. smirked at you as he worked you open with his fingers. “I would,” he agreed as he looked down. “You’re dripping, baby. Did the teaser I gave you in front of Dean turn you on that much?”

“That and you,” came your muffled answer as you buried your face against the side of his neck. “Are you really going to fuck me in the bathroom at a party?”

“Yes,” he answered as you unzipped his pants. “Unless you feel like waiting until everyone leaves and I can fuck you all over the house. Fair warning, though, I don’t think this party is dying any time soon.”

You moan and lift your head. “Get to it, then,” you murmur and pull him free. A.J. presses his lips to yours at the same time he enters you with a single thrust, and the feeling has you grasping onto his shirt tightly. “Fuck. Is this how you did it in the Ivy League? Fucking random girls in bathrooms during parties?”

“Had to practice somehow. And you’re not just a random girl,” he said back and you laughed before moaning rather loudly as he began to roughly fuck into you. You slap one hand over your mouth with wide eyes and he smirks. “Can’t be quiet, huh, baby?”

You shake your head as you lean back against the mirror. “No,” you agree and tug on his hair with your other hand. “I can’t be quiet when it comes to you, Jay. You make me feel so good.”

A.J. groaned when you clenched around him, and he knew he wasn’t much better. One of the perks of living in an actual house and not an apartment, was that you and he could be as loud as you wanted.

Not that the thin walls of your last apartment stopped you from being loud. You’d received countless noise complaints, and they all were ignored by A.J., who just fucked you harder until the bed slammed against the wall with each thrust.

It was like how he was fucking into you now.

Your body moved further and further back on the counter until you had to place your hand flat against the marble, accidentally knocking over the bottle of soap in the process and making it fall to the floor. “Jesus,” you gasped as his hips rocked into yours.

A.J. grunted and kept one hand on your hip while his other reached up to grip the side of your face. “God, you’re tight,” he rasped, making you smirk as you wrap your legs tighter around him.

The smirk was promptly wiped from your face as he began roughly slamming into you, loud moans emitting from your mouth with each thrust. “Oh, my God,” you cried as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hands bunching up his shirt tightly. “Fuck yes, Jay.”

A.J. groaned and pressed his mouth to yours, his tongue poking out and parting your lips, coating them in a layer of his spit. “Feel good, princess?” He teasingly asked and you nod uncontrollably.

“Feels so good,” you answer, clinging onto him as you feel your release approaching embarrassingly fast. “So fucking good.”

He grunted, kissing all over your neck as you squeezed him over and over again. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he praised, reaching behind you to pull on your hair.

You squeal a bit, hiking your body closer to his as you hear the sounds of the party-goers right outside the door. “I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you warned loudly, no longer caring about the guests hearing you at this point.

“Already?” He mocked, pulling at your bottom lip with his thumb. “You needed me just as badly as I needed you, huh?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, your body involuntarily bucking forward to meet his thrusts. “Oh, my fucking God, yes, please please please.”

A.J. gripped your waist in both hands, his still clothed thighs hitting the backs of yours as you moaned loudly in the surprisingly big half-bath.

You grip his back and pull his chest against yours as you feel your release take over. “Oh, God,” you cried out as you clamped impossibly tight around him. “I’m coming.”

A.J. cursed under his breath as he felt your walls pulse around him before a warmth took him over. “There you go, baby. Give it to me,” he muttered, and your whines increased in volume. “Good girl.” He praised, kissing the skin under your ear as you writhed against him.

“Are you…” you trailed off as you slumped against his chest, his hips still lazily rocking into yours. “Are you gonna come, too?”

A.J. let out a surprised moan at your dirty question and how sweetly you asked it. He leaned in and kissed you hard, using his hand to angle your head so he had better access to your mouth. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you answer instantly. “I want it so bad.”

His eyes shut tightly as he buried his face against the side of your neck. “I’ll come for you,” he promised, feeling his stomach tighten with each slow thrust he gave. “I always will.”

You whine and pull him impossibly close as he came hard, his hips fucking his release deeper and deeper into you as he groaned loudly.

When he pulls away, you smile shyly at him as you smooth out his shirt with a quiet laugh. “Is it all out of your system now?”

“Is what all out of my system?” He asked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your mouth. “My unhealthy need to fuck you all over our new house? No, that won’t be out of my system for quite a while.”

You laugh then bite your lip as he pulls out of you, then he reaches down to run two fingers through your sensitive core. He collects his release onto his digits before lifting his hand again, and you lean in to wrap your mouth around them, hearing him grunt deeply as you clean himself off his fingers. “Tasty,” you smirk once you pull away.

A.J. had to hold off on taking you right then and there as he felt himself grow a bit hard again. Instead, he cleaned you up, smoothed out your outfit and finished it off with a kiss to your lips. “You ready to go back out there?” He asked and you nodded. “Don’t be surprised when we get some dirty looks, because I think every single person out there knows what we did in here.”

You shrug, looking up at him with a teasing smirk. “Who cares? It’s our house,” you point out and pull open the door. “Do me a favor and don’t fix your hair, okay?”

Then you were walking out of the bathroom, leaving A.J. to look at himself in the mirror with a laugh as he took notice of his post-sex hair. If it wasn’t obvious enough what you and he just got finished doing, his messy hair will definitely get the message across.

And that was exactly why he left it as it is before following after you.

#takers aj x reader #takers aj imagine #aj takers smut #aj x reader #takers aj #takers #hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen edit #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader

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lovers-rck · 10 months

Text

you want to get better at kissing, so you ask your friend ellie to give you some tips

fluff ? i guess. modern au

☆

"how do you kiss someone?"

ellie looks at you "what?"

"do you have some tricks?" you asks

the past few months had been rough, the cold winter burned the cheeks of everyone, red noses and big scarfs were the last fashion tendency in campus. for the last few days you were drown in warm and cozy clothes, swimming through hot chocolate and watching christmas movies.

today wasn't the exception. after your last class of the day, you went to ellie's dorm and you both watched a movie in her laptop, ellie handing you her cup of hot chocolate every once in a while.

"what? no" she replies

"then how do you do it?"

"why are you asking me that? you kissed people before"

you roll your eyes "yeah, when i was like twelve years old" you make a disgusted face at remember that "he licked all my face"

ellie laughs

"i dont know. i kiss like everyone else"

"all the girls in my class talk about how you kiss them"

ellie furrows her eyebrows "i kissed one of your classmates?"

you roll your eyes "it would be easier to answer who you didn't kiss ellie"

"what is that supposed to mean?"

"i don't know" you shrug "do you have some tips for me?"

"avoid the excess of tongue"

"ellie!"

"okay sorry!" she says, thinking "i don't know. im not an expert"

"you kissed a lot of girls"

"so?"

"that means that you know something i don't!"

"how to flirt maybe"

you throw a pillow in her face, your cheeks getting red in anger "forget it"

you place your eyes in the movie again, seeing scenes and hearing dialogues but not really paying attention. you were swimming in a pool were the water was made of thoughts and questions.

"i can show you" you heard ellie say after a couple of minutes.

you swim to the top of the pool, getting out. "what?" you replie

she shrugs, her eyes still on the movie "only if you want"

you watch the laptop again, trying to process ellie's words.

"wouldn't that be weird?" you asks

"it doesn't have to be" she says and in her stomach a bunch of butterflys fight eachothers "it's for educational purposes"

you laugh softly, your fingers playing with the seam of your sweather "okay"

ellie finally looks at you "yeah?"

you nod, a funny smile resting in your face "okay" she says and moves the laptop away, making space as she taps her lap "here"

your eyes go wide "what?"

"what? i thought you wanted me to show you"

"yeah" you say "i just didn't know i have to sit in you"

"oh" she says, her cheeks getting red "you don't have to. sorry"

you nod slowly. an awkward silence sits between both of you.

after a few seconds, you start to move towards her. she offers her hand and you take it. your knees swim in the sea of blankets as you follow the path to her body.

your mind is fuzzy when you sit in her legs, her hands resting in your hip "okay" you sigh

"you okay?" she asks, looking in your eyes some answer

"yeah" you nod "you are warm"

ellie laughs and her vibrations resonate in her body, making your body shift slightly. you hold back a whimper with the faint suspicion that you shouldn't feel that way.

"im gonna kiss you now" she announces, you nod "just follow my lead"

"follow your lead" you repeat, your hands in her shoulders "got it"

ellie grabs your face with a soft grip, moving it gently to her lips.

you take a deep breath when for the first time ever she places her lips over yours. she leaves them there for a couple of seconds, warming your own before continuing. you feel her other hand caressing your waist over your tick hoddie.

ellie's kiss is soft and sweet, her lips moving against yours with such tenderness. you try to follow her, frustrated with your own inexperience "relax" she murmurs "no one is rushing us"

you try to relax. you direct your hands towards her neck, unconsciously caressing her skin with your thumb and gaining a few shivers on her part. you laugh softly, breaking the kiss as ellie laughs too "you got me there" she says, her breath hitting your lips "you want to keep going?"

you smile against her lips as you realize that you both were talking in whispers, like children sharing a secret "yes" you whisper, and this time you start the kiss.

you feel more confident now, opening your mouth a bit. ellie takes that as an invitation and turns the kiss in something deeper, moving her hand to your jaw.

you shiver as you kiss her back the same way, this time more hungry, less delicate. ellie handles your face the way she wants, moving it to the side to deepen her assault on your mouth.

you feel your breath getting louder as the seconds pass, her grip getting stronger in your body. you shift in her lap, your chest against hers , chasing that proximity and more.

the moment ellie slips her tongue in your mouth you moan softly, breaking the kiss "sorry" you murmur, completely embarrassed

"too much?" she asks, placing a strand of hair behind your ear.

you shake your head "i just didn't expect it" you replie "what should i do if someone wants tongue?"

ellie ignores the needle of jealousy that pinch her at thinking about someone else kissing you "it's up to you. if you like kissing with tongue and the other person too then go ahead"

"i don't know if i like it" you make a face "it's kinda weird"

on impulse, ellie replies "do you want to keep trying?" you look at her "to see if you like it, i mean" she adds, awkward.

you hide a smile and nod, feeling ellies mouth the very next second, wasting no time.

this time she does the tongue thing again and you decided that you like it. it's all wet and warm, and a bit weird at first, but ellie plays with your mouth in a way that makes you melt.

her hands navegate over the waist of your hoddie, trying to move you closer to her. you hug her by the neck, your fingers ghosting over her hair.

in the kiss, a weird feeling invades you. you feel weird, weird of kisssing your friend like this, of being sitting in her legs, of liking it. ellie grabs you and touch your face and kiss you and when she touch the exposed skin of your hip you realize that this wasn't a practice anymore.

"ellie" your murmur with agitated breath

and she understands, leaving your lips "sorry" her lips are red and swollen

you make an awkward smile and get off her lap, instantly missing her warm essence. you see how ellie plays with her fingers, nervous

you watch the laptop, the movie still on. outside is snowing. you feel warmth in places that you shouldn't.

"how did i do it?" you ask playfully, trying to lighten the atmosphere

ellie catch your intention and shrug her shoulders, making a funny face "i had better"

you laugh and push his shoulder lightly, pulling the blankets off her bed "i say the same thing"

"yeah, i bet that boy from when you were twelve kissed you better" she jokes and you throw a pillow to her face one more time.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie wiliams #the last of us #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #tlou #tlou2

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runawrites-blog · 1 month

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Where The Fuck Did She Learn That? (Deadpool x Reader)

Summary: After accidentally teaching his daughter a swear word, Wade tries to teach her other words before you come home. You still end up finding out. (Female Reader) Word Count: 1,850 Warnings: Swearing. Kid-Fic. Wade is a Girl Dad. Minor Arguing. No Y/N. No Deadpool and Wolverine Spoilers. A/N: The child character is named Bea (nickname Bee) after Bea Arthur from Golden Girls because, in the flashback scene from Deadpool, we see Wade wearing a shirt with her likeness on it. Also, someone asked me to tag them in my other Deadpool fics but I am not sure if that means ALL Deadpool fics I write or just series, so I didn't tag them. I am new to people wanting to be tagged in my writing, so please if you want to be tagged clarify what you want to be tagged in so I (a dumbass) can understand it. Sorry ^^ Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58276927

---

“There she is!”

Wade smiled softly when his one-year-old daughter babbled happily as he picked her up from her playmat on the ground, hoisting her up over his head and making her giggle excitedly. He grinned back at her as he bounced her a few times before settling her on his hip, nodding along to her mostly nonsensical babbles. You’d told him that after around twelve months you two could expect her first words and he was now eagerly waiting for it every day.

He would ever admit that to you because he knew you’d tease him relentlessly about it and as any of his readers knew you were only allowed to do that in bed. But as to not do you injustice, he had to admit that most of the time you weren’t teasing him about how he interacted with his daughter, that most of the time you thought it was absolutely endearing.

“Did you have fun stuffing shapes in boxes? Bet that was absolutely riveting!”

The excited way in which he always spoke to her never failed to make her gurgle excitedly, bouncing in his grasp as her little hands reached up to pat all over his face. Wade just chuckled at her excitement, leaning over to examine the toys on the ground, pretending to be deep in thought.

“So help me out here, the star-shaped block goes into the star-shaped hole right? And the triangle one into the triangle-shaped hole?” He mused, crouching down and pointing at the corresponding shapes and nodding along to his daughter’s babbles. “Got it. Thanks, Bee.”

It was a nickname you two had used for the baby ever since your pregnancy because she had always moved around a lot, making you two call her a busy bee. And when your daughter had been born you two had decided on a fitting name but since you had so adamantly fought Wade on how you couldn’t call a baby Bee and he had not really wanted to argue with you after you’d just given birth, he’d agreed. And like that, you two had decided on the name Bea, only for you to later find out Wade had suggested it because he just loved ‘Golden Girls’.

“How about we get you a snack?” Wade asked in a soft voice, bouncing Bea on his hip as he made his way to the kitchen. “I could try apple bunnies like Mommy makes them but don’t get upset when they come out looking like apple roadkill instead! Deal?”

He had out his pinky at Bea and she reached for it, grabbing it with her whole hand and shaking it around a little. Wade just shrugged at that.

“Close enough!”

Sitting her down in her highchair, Wade started cutting up some apples for Bea, humming along in agreement to whatever she was babbling about behind him. None of her words were distinguishable as of yet but she loved babbling to herself. You’d once said that she truly was Wade’s child because he could never keep his mouth shut, either. When he’d called you fucking rude for it you had almost tackled him with how fast you’d tried to cover his mouth, chiding him for using foul language around Bea. His joke about how you could always gag him had only made you roll your eyes.

“Almost done, Bee. Just keep telling your story. Daddy’s listening.”

As he readied his knife to try and cut into the apple twice, so the two cut-in areas could be lifted to simulate ears, he slipped up and sliced right into his thumb. Dropping the knife onto the counter he shook his hand a little.

“Fuck!”

Cut thumb and apple forgotten, Wade felt his blood run cold and he froze in his spot before slowly turning his head to see whether or not he had heard that right. When he looked over his shoulder he saw Bea giggling happily, clapping her tiny hands as she repeated the word over and over again.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

He was dead. You were going to come back and find out that your child’s first word was a swear word and that it was his fault, on top of that. Then you were going to tear him a new one and not in a way he would like you to. Panicking he rushed over to the highchair, crouching down in front of it and shaking his head.

“No, no, Bee. You can’t say that. It’s a bad word.”

“Fuck!”

“No!” Wade exclaimed in desperation as his daughter giggled on and repeated the word. “Can you be a sweetheart for Daddy and stop saying that? Please?”

It was dumb to try and reason with a baby, he knew that. None of his readers would have to remind him of that but in his desperate state of mind, it was the only thing he thought of trying. But it didn’t help. Bea was repeating the word still and Wade stood up in frustration, burying his face in his hands.

As he imagined how you would react, how you would make him sleep on the couch for months he realised the worst thing was that would would likely get upset about this. So he quickly thought of an idea. He had to make Bea forget the swear word and try to get her to say something else.

So quickly, he picked her up again, holding her close as he sat her down on his hip and went around the kitchen, pointing out random objects only to get the swear word as a reply again. Then he moved on into the living room to try doing the same there.

“Flower.”

“Fuck.”

“Table.”

“Fuck.”

“Couch.”

“Fuck.”

This went on for some time until eventually Wade went into Bea’s bedroom and walked around, once more pointing out random objects until they reached her crib and the mobile hanging over it. Bea reached out for the little aquatic creatures hanging from it and Wade got an idea -- a word that was as short as the swear word and also started with the same letter. Gentle, he stopped the mobile and grabbed a small blue fish between both his fingers.

“Fish.”

“Fish!”

“Yes, Fish! Good girl, Bee!” Wade said and nodded, beaming as his daughter repeated the word a few more times. “Fish. That’s a fish.”

The front door opening made him turn and freeze. He hoped his plan had worked as he walked out into the living room where you quickly spotted him and came over, cooing at the girl in his arms before taking her into yours. You bounced her around a bit as you leaned in to kiss Wade before looking back at Bea.

“Did you have fun with Daddy, Bee?”

“Fish!”

Your mouth fell open and a smile overtook your features as you stared at your daughter in disbelief. Then you looked up at Wade in absolute delight, bouncing Bea around on your hip as the girl giggled happily.

“She said her first word? That’s amazing! And it’s so funny that it’s fish.”

“I guess it’s because of her mobile.” Wade shrugged and then leaned forward to kiss Bea on the head as he continued lying to you. “She’s been going on about it all afternoon.”

“It’s just sad that I wasn’t there to hear it.” Your smile faltered just a bit but then your face lit up again. “Maybe I can see it on the baby monitor.”

Wade felt his blood run cold for a second before he realised why that wouldn’t be possible. “She said it in the kitchen. The baby monitor is in the bedroom, so I guess you won’t be able to see it. Sorry, Honey.”

Once more your face fell but it quickly lit up once again when Bea kept babbling on about fish and you looked up to smile at Wade, seemingly having decided that it didn’t matter because it was a wonderful thing nonetheless. Wade was about to embrace you and Bea when you piped up again, a big smile on your face.

“Wait a second. The baby monitor has two devices and both of them have cameras, so you can use them back and forth.” You mused, snapping your fingers and making Wade freeze as he realised where the other device was. “I left the other one in the kitchen yesterday!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, and now I can see our daughter speak her first word for the first time, too!”

Before Wade could come up with a lie you were on your way to the kitchen, Bea in your arms. Once there you sat down the footage of the empty kitchen until Wade saw the video of him putting Bea down in her highchair. His hands clamped down on the back of your chair as you started playing the footage, turning back to smile at him and tease him quietly about how sweet he was for always talking to Bea. But he wasn’t really listening, eyes trained on the monitor.

“Fuck!”

Wade felt himself freeze as you turned around in your chair, a deep scowl on your face as you looked up at him. “That was our daughter first word? And she said it because of you?”

“I am so sorry, Honeybun. My sweet pookie-bear, I swear it was not on purpose. I cut myself and it was out of reflex. Please, don’t kick me out!”

“Give me a second.”

You stood from your chair and walked into the living room to place Bea down on her playmat where she began playing with her shapes and blocks again. Wade followed you, head turned down as he waited for you to go off on him. As you marched over and guided him into the hallway, just far enough to be out of earshot but close enough to keep an eye on your daughter, he knew he was in for it.

“Bad enough that you teach her to swear, but you also lie to me about it!” You snapped quietly, probably not wanting to raise your voice and scare Bear. “I can’t believe you!”

Wade raised his hands in defeat. “It’s totally my fault, I know. But you gotta admit that I at least got her to quickly forget it. Now she’s just saying ‘fish’, so that’s good!”

“Yeah, I guess that’s good.” You sighed and shook your head, putting your hand on your hips. “At least you fixed this.”

“So really, if anything you shut be thankful!”

“Shut the fuck up, Wilson!”

”Fuck!”

Wade burst out laughing as you turned in horror, finding Bea on the floor, repeating the word over and over again. He watched in amusement as you hurried over and tried to redirect her to saying ‘fish’ again but it was of no use because now that Bea had been reminded of the word she was not going to stop saying it. Wade grinned to himself as he approached you, leaning in close to whisper in your ear so Bea wouldn’t hear him.

“Where the fuck did she learn that?”

#my writing #fanfiction #writing #mcu #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #deadpool imagine #deadpool x reader #deadpool #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson imagine #wade wilson #no y/n #kid fic

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ms-demeanor · 4 months

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Hello! First, I wanted to say thank you for your post about updating software and such. I really appreciated your perspective as someone with ADHD. The way you described your experiences with software frustration was IDENTICAL to my experience, so your post made a lot of sense to me.

Second, (and I hope my question isn't bothering you lol) would you mind explaining why it's important to update/adopt the new software? Like, why isn't there an option that doesn't involve constantly adopting new things? I understand why they'd need to fix stuff like functional bugs/make it compatible with new tech, but is it really necessary to change the user side of things as well?

Sorry if those are stupid questions or they're A Lot for a tumblr rando to ask, I'd just really like to understand because I think it would make it easier to get myself to adopt new stuff if I understand why it's necessary, and the other folks I know that know about computers don't really seem to understand the experience.

Thank you so much again for sharing your wisdom!!

A huge part of it is changing technologies and changing norms; I brought up Windows 8 in that other post and Win8 is a *great* example of user experience changing to match hardware, just in a situation that was an enormous mismatch with the market.

Win8's much-beloathed tiles came about because Microsoft seemed to be anticipating a massive pivot to tablet PCs in nearly all applications. The welcome screen was designed to be friendly to people who were using handheld touchscreens who could tap through various options, and it was meant to require more scrolling and less use of a keyboard.

But most people who the operating system went out to *didn't* have touchscreen tablets or laptops, they had a desktop computer with a mouse and a keyboard.

When that was released, it was Microsoft attempting to keep up with (or anticipate) market trends - they wanted something that was like "the iPad for Microsoft" so Windows 8 was meant to go with Microsoft Surface tablets.

We spent the first month of Win8's launch making it look like Windows 7 for our customers.

You can see the same thing with the centered taskbar on Windows 11; that's very clearly supposed to mimic the dock on apple computers (only you can't pin it anywhere but the bottom of the screen, which sucks).

Some of the visual changes are just trends and various companies trying to keep up with one another.

With software like Adobe I think it's probably based on customer data. The tool layout and the menu dropdowns are likely based on what people are actually looking for, and change based on what other tools people are using. That's likely true for most programs you use - the menu bar at the top of the screen in Word is populated with the options that people use the most; if a function you used to click on all the time is now buried, there's a possibility that people use it less these days for any number of reasons. (I'm currently being driven mildly insane by Teams moving the "attach file" button under a "more" menu instead of as an icon next to the "send message" button, and what this tells me is either that more users are putting emojis in their messages than attachments, or microsoft WANTS people to put more emojis than messages in their attachments).

But focusing on the operating system, since that's the big one:

The thing about OSs is that you interact with them so frequently that any little change seems massive and you get REALLY frustrated when you have to deal with that, but version-to-version most OSs don't change all that much visually and they also don't get released all that frequently. I've been working with windows machines for twelve years and in that time the only OSs that Microsoft has released were 8, 10, and 11. That's only about one OS every four years, which just is not that many. There was a big visual change in the interface between 7 and 8 (and 8 and 8.1, which is more of a 'panicked backing away' than a full release), but otherwise, realistically, Windows 11 still looks a lot like XP.

The second one is a screenshot of my actual computer. The only change I've made to the display is to pin the taskbar to the left side instead of keeping it centered and to fuck around a bit with the colors in the display customization. I haven't added any plugins or tools to get it to look different.

This is actually a pretty good demonstration of things changing based on user behavior too - XP didn't come with a search field in the task bar or the start menu, but later versions of Windows OSs did, because users had gotten used to searching things more in their phones and browsers, so then they learned to search things on their computers.

There are definitely nefarious reasons that software manufacturers change their interfaces. Microsoft has included ads in home versions of their OS and pushed searches through the Microsoft store since Windows 10, as one example. That's shitty and I think it's worthwhile to find the time to shut that down (and to kill various assistants and background tools and stop a lot of stuff that runs at startup).

But if you didn't have any changes, you wouldn't have any changes. I think it's handy to have a search field in the taskbar. I find "settings" (which is newer than control panel) easier to navigate than "control panel." Some of the stuff that got added over time is *good* from a user perspective - you can see that there's a little stopwatch pinned at the bottom of my screen; that's a tool I use daily that wasn't included in previous versions of the OS. I'm glad it got added, even if I'm kind of bummed that my Windows OS doesn't come with Spider Solitaire anymore.

One thing that's helpful to think about when considering software is that nobody *wants* to make clunky, unusable software. People want their software to run well, with few problems, and they want users to like it so that they don't call corporate and kick up a fuss.

When you see these kinds of changes to the user experience, it often reflects something that *you* may not want, but that is desirable to a *LOT* of other people. The primary example I can think of here is trackpad scrolling direction; at some point it became common for trackpads to scroll in the opposite direction that they used to; now the default direction is the one that feels wrong to me, because I grew up scrolling with a mouse, not a screen. People who grew up scrolling on a screen seem to feel that the new direction is a lot more intuitive, so it's the default. Thankfully, that's a setting that's easy to change, so it's a change that I make every time I come across it, but the change was made for a sensible reason, even if that reason was opaque to me at the time I stumbled across it and continues to irritate me to this day.

I don't know. I don't want to defend Windows all that much here because I fucking hate Microsoft and definitely prefer using Linux when I'm not at work or using programs that I don't have on Linux. But the thing is that you'll see changes with Linux releases as well.

I wouldn't mind finding a tool that made my desktop look 100% like Windows 95, that would be fun. But we'd probably all be really frustrated if there hadn't been any interface improvements changes since MS-DOS (and people have DEFINITELY been complaining about UX changes at least since then).

Like, I talk about this in terms of backward compatibility sometimes. A lot of people are frustrated that their old computers can't run new software well, and that new computers use so many resources. But the flipside of that is that pretty much nobody wants mobile internet to work the way that it did in 2004 or computers to act the way they did in 1984.

Like. People don't think about it much these days but the "windows" of the Windows Operating system represented a massive change to how people interacted with their computers that plenty of people hated and found unintuitive.

(also take some time to think about the little changes that have happened that you've appreciated or maybe didn't even notice. I used to hate the squiggly line under misspelled words but now I see the utility. Predictive text seems like new technology to me but it's really handy for a lot of people. Right clicking is a UX innovation. Sometimes you have to take the centered task bar in exchange for the built-in timer deck; sometimes you have to lose color-coded files in exchange for a right click.)

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my-castles-crumbling · 28 days

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OMG Clandestine is done!

I am so so so excited to say I just posted the epilogue to Clandestine! Featuring a beautiful commission from @itslotuseater!

Ships: Jegulus, background wolfstar, dorlene, pandalily, rosekiller Rating: M Length: 142k (FINISHED! COMPLETED! AHH!)

Summary:

He was crying. “You can do that?” He repeated, feeling like he was in some sort of dream. And then, Sirius seemed to realize. Because for a twelve-year-old, he was decently smart, and knew him better than anyone. “D’you…d’you want to do that, Reggie? I thought…I thought it was just a game?” But he could only shake his head. Because it wasn't a game. He was a boy. And he could tell from Sirius's nervously resigned expression that Sirius knew it, too. "It's...not a game." --- There's not enough Trans Regulus Black, so here's a fic to help fix the problem. Rated mature for lots of references to transphobia and Walburga Black being a piece of shit. COMPLETED (I'm not crying, you are)

Ahhh, my long-winded thank-you note:

First and foremost, thank you to Arson, my amazing Alpha Reader who brainrotted with me throughout almost the entire process. I literally could not have finished this without you, and I am so thankful to have you in my life. You've helped me through so many cases of horrible Writer's Block, encouraged me whenever I needed it, and you're an amazing friend. I hope you love your "Barty and Evan's Bitch" shirt :D

Second, to my wife, who literally dealt with me talking about this fic for TEN MONTHS. You're literally the most amazing and supportive person in my life, and I love you more than words. Thank you for being the James to my Regulus.

Third, to my Beta Reader, Kat, who is still wading through the trenches of this fic finding all my mistakes. I am so glad to have you and thank you for dealing with all of my errors and answering my messages at odd hours of the night.

Fourth, to all of the people who have encouraged me: Abby, Danielle, Kelz, everyone on the discord servers who has seen me struggle, you guys are amazing and I am so thankful to you.

Fifth, to the lovely people who created fanart for this fic. You all are amazing and you brought this to life. I bow down to you, truly, you are so incredibly talented.

Sixth, to the people who I interviewed about dysphoria and being on T, so I could have a more well-rounded understanding about Regulus's experience. Though I identify as trans, I am so thankful that other trans people were willing to give their experiences in areas I wanted to describe as accurately as possible.

And last, to all of you, who read and kudosed and inboxed and recommended and commented and kept me going. You all are amazing, and you've made this such a positive experience. This fic really was for me, to work through my own gender an discover about myself, and I am so thankful you have been here along this journey.

I want to reiterate that this is one trans person's journey, but I think it's so important to have representation in all forms of media. I'm hoping that my version of Reggie has helped with that a little bit! He's my baby, and he deserves all the good things.

Keep an eye out for the B-sides of this fic! I'll add a chapter to this work linking to it, so if you're subscribed to this, you'll get an e-mail. I'll also be editing this work to fix all the errors, and I'll be doing the B-sides as I go. It probably won't be for a couple of weeks, since I am now working, and I won't have any strict posting schedule, but I'm excited for those as well!

I love you all. Thanks for being a part of this journey.

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httpsserene · 11 months

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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟲: 𝗴𝗲𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲 𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲 & 𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀/𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: george has created a serious problem. you two have been dating for over three years, and he fed from you the first time about three months ago. the problem lies within the fact that he conditioned you to orgasm every time he used you as his glorified high-class wine bottle. on second thought, that’s a pretty good problem to have; his thirst is sated, and yours is as well. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. not beta read. vampires. dubcon (from the inherent plot). safe, sane, and consensual though. coming untouched. no penetrative sex. implied sex. blood drinking. biting. mention of multiple orgasms. unnecessary world building. the grid & mercedes knows about george being a vampire. hickeys/love bites. bruises. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 4k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: george russell x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: prey • the neighborhood

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: i guess i got too into the plot and lost myself in the exposition. i was originally going to delete the beginning ramblings of setting the scene and what not, but this would be like 500 words if i did that. for some reason, the entire grid knows george is a vampire? i couldn’t find the brainpower to explain who he’s hiding it from or how that would work in f1. the kink is more of the inherent tension from drinking somebodies blood. lol, anyways have fun reading 🫶🏽

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george had gotten enough schooling to learn what classical conditioning is. pavlov conditioned dogs to salivate at the sound of a bell ringing; a conditioned response. george may have done the same thing to you–he made the mistake of making sure you orgasm as he bites and drinks from you. now every time he feeds from you, you cum, even if there’s no sexual build-up at all; it could be the most bland feeding session and the minute his venom enters your bloodstream, you can’t fight it—he’s pavlov-ed his girlfriend. he should’ve never allowed himself to feed from you.

when george first met you, he was enamored with you from the start. after every morning run, he would end at a local coffee shop and you would already be cozied up in a corner seat working away on your computer. you smelled delectable, george quickly picked up on that. he was thankful the barista had already memorized his usual order, because he really wouldn’t have enjoyed explaining why his canines had elongated into fangs. he couldn’t handle the way your blood was calling to him and left the coffee shop as soon as he got his drink, running into several people on the way out. you would be in the coffee shop on two out of the three days he came in, and he would be a serious hazard to any customer who came in during the five minutes he was there. it was like this for two months and twelve days (not that he was counting or anything), until you weren’t in your seat one day. george sighed in relief, shoulders relaxing and the fixed grimace in anticipation sliding off his face—what he didn’t expect to feel is disappointment at the lack of your appearance and addicting scent. he dismisses the emotions, convincing himself that he’s just used to the constant repression of his instincts around you. he even takes the time to engage in small talk with the baristas; two months ago he was well-invested into their lives, he has a lot of catching up to do. he allows himself to be forced into a seat at the counter to drink his coffee and indulge in a few pastries that are definitely breaking his diet. it’s an off day for him, his only plans are to stream in the evening with the usual quartet, so he can afford to dine in this morning…and indulge in catching up on the coffee shop gossip, he’s only a man, alright?

george is halfway through his cup of coffee and laughing along to a story about how this adorable kid tried to buy hot chocolate with monopoly money when the entrance door jingles open. he chokes on his sip of coffee, almost spraying it over the counter in surprise as you walk up to the counter. he turns to look at you ordering at the register, to confirm he’s not imagining your presence and—you look amazing. you’re wearing flared black trousers with a short-sleeved, white, collared shirt tucked into them, elegant gold jewelry accented against your brown skin—you’ve dressed up today. it’s different from the usual hoodie and headphones george sees you wearing in that corner nook of yours; at least that’s his excuse for why he ends up staring you down. after finishing your order, you head towards your usual seat and end up making direct eye contact with george, because the universe hates him. he sees your attempt at a polite smile and his cheeks burn red at being caught, and jerks his head forward breaking his stare. he hears you continue to walk past him, and the barista stares at him disbelievingly, “mate…you fumbled that.” george stutters through a denial, but then he hears your footsteps stop—and he knows you haven’t reached the corner seat yet. he picks up on the sound of you turning on your heels and heading back in his direction, and he drops his head into his hands, resigned.

“ah! someone’s taken your seat today,” the barista in front of george calls out to you—george narrows his eyes at the man in warning, “come sit at the counter then; you can tell me what you��re all fancied-up for.” the barista glances at george with a smirk, and he swears this may be the first time he bleeds a human dry.

you laugh and sit at the counter, one seat in between you and george. and george sighs in relief for the second time today; you’re wearing perfume and it taints the smell of your blood, enough for him to not start salivating, at least. its silent for a minute, and george can feel your awkwardness radiating.

“so…” you question teasingly, “not in a rush today, then?”

george turns to look at you, shocked that you’re even talking to him—he never figured he’d be in a conversation with you. while your voice may have been teasing, your eyes are soft, warmed with kindness, and george melts. he manages to muster a tease back in your direction, “no, not today. but, look at you—in business casual attire, i was starting to believe you only knew how to dress in sweatshirts?”

you roll your eyes at him, and a smirk replaces your painfully polite smile, “ah? today must’ve not been the only day you’ve been staring at me, if you’re so familiar with how i dress…even though we’ve never spoken to each other before.” george’s mouth drops open at you checking him, and he can hear both baristas giggling behind the counter. and at that moment, george is pretty sure he fell in love with you right then—even though he didn’t have the balls to ask you out for another month and a half.

for those weeks, every time george came to the cafe, you would wave him over to your table with a bright grin and invite him to sit down across from you. even on days when he really couldn’t afford to be late, he’d find himself sitting down to chat with you. instead of being early to zoom meetings with the mercedes team, he started being on-time, often enough for lewis and toto to comment on it. his only response to their gentle prodding at the change in his behavior being, “i added another mile to my morning run,” when he really was spending those minutes talking to you after his run. after he built up the courage to ask for your number (platonically, of course), he would show up to the driver’s briefings a few minutes late, rushing in yet tapping away on his phone struggling to hide the smile on his face. for all of his superior senses, he doesn’t notice how his grid mates stare at him like he’s lost his mind; eventually, one of the officials calls him out when he glances down at the notifications popping up on his phone screen for the fourth time in five minutes, “mr. russell, i am sure that whatever you find so interesting on your phone can’t be more important than our discussion about track conditions, can it?”

george flushed red (he knew he shouldn’t have fed until later) and stumbled through an apology. after the briefing ends, the drivers start teasing him for being ‘so unprofessional,’ and lewis doesn’t help when he reveals how george has started being late to mercedes team meetings, too. charles pretends to faint, alex gasps in horror, and lando’s eyes light up at the opportunity to be a gremlin.

“boysboysboys,” lando grins, gathering everyone’s attention, “i think it’s finally happened.”

george sighed, over the dramatics already, “what’s happened, lando?”

“you’ve managed to get yourself a girlfriend!” lando shrieks, his high-pitched laughter hurting george’s ears.

george flusters, and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, “she’s not my girlfriend!” and, he’s only made it worse.

alex’s eyes widen, pointing at george in shock, “oh my god—so you are talking to a girl!” george groans and spins on his feet to leave the room, ignoring the jibes and teases of the grown men behind him.

later that night, his hotel room is infiltrated by almost half the grid (including fernando, for some reason), all seeming to rally behind their common goal of getting george to ask you on an actual date. they debase all of george’s points about why he shouldn’t ask you out—the main point being that he’s a fucking vampire—and ask him the one question that he’s been refusing to acknowledge, “you can smell how she feels—does she smell like she likes you?”

george hisses at them half-heartedly, more like a frazzled kitten than a terrifying monster, “yes, i’m already aware that she’s interested in me—that’s the problem! i’ve already led her on this whole time, and she doesn’t know that she has a crush on an undead, immortal, vampire!” the room quiets at his outburst, and he can only groan and drop his head into his hands.

“so just tell her,” max states bluntly, not looking away from the fifa game he’s beating charles’ ass in. george stares at max, appalled.

“let her make the decision for herself, right?” max starts, pausing the game to look at george, “for some bizarre reason she likes you for who you are,” george scoffs, “so, just tell her from the jump—you’ve already led her on enough, so give her the opportunity to decide whether or not if she should date your lame ass.”

the vampire stares at max disbelievingly, “that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

the red bull driver shrugs, ears turning red under the surprised stares in the room, and quickly un-pauses the game and scores on charles. the monegasque screams dramatically, and the tense air is broken. george shakily sighs, anxious, and pulls out his phone to ask you on a date. originally, he was thinking about asking you through a text, but with almost every driver in the room disapproving of any way he goes about wording it, he bares his fangs at them, and steps out of his own room, to call you.

the phone doesn’t even complete the first ring before you pick up, and a pleasant, “hi, georgieeee,” slips from your mouth; he can hear how you’re smiling through the phone. he banters with you for a minute, listening to how you're singing praises about his performance even though the actual race isn’t for another day. when the conversation dies down, he blurts out the question, “do you want to go on a—“

“i would love to go on a date with you!” you cut him off, eagerly, “i mean–sorry, yes. i would like to go out with you.” george laughs, relieved and comforted by the fact that you’re as gone for him as he is for you. he can’t even bring himself to be mad when he hears the men in his room raucously cheer.

and when george took you out for brunch to the same cafe, ignoring the baristas’ proud expressions, he realized he had nothing to worry about. the conversation flowed easily, he made you laugh and you made him laugh, and most importantly, he didn't think about draining you dry like a caprisun. you’ve ditched the cozy outfits and dressed up again—dressed up for him—and george is out of his running attire and fancied up; and you make a off-hand comment about how unnatural this feels, and george is reminded of the one important thing he was supposed to tell you. time has flown by so quickly while the two of you were hidden away in your preferred corner seat, and it’s become mid-afternoon. george surveys the surroundings briefly and is shocked to find that it’s only the two of you, and the baristas in the cafe; it’s the perfect time to tell you.

when george states that he’s a vampire, you obviously think he’s joking, “well, you’re not burning in the sunlight, georgie–so i don’t believe you! i am afraid that if this is a kink of yours, i don’t see a second date in the future.” he tries to smile at your joke but it ends up as more of a grimace, and he exposes his fangs for you to see. he hears the breath catch in your throat, sees your eyes widening in shock, blown-out pupils shrinking in fear, hears your heart beginning to race in your chest, blood rushing in your veins, and smells your scent souring.

“george russell,” you whisper yell, glancing around anxiously, “what the fuck! i believe you—you shouldn’t do that in public! what if someone else saw?!” and that’s when he realized that sure, a small amount of your fear was from the confirmation that he is a supernatural being—but mainly that, you were afraid for him. and at that point, george knew that he could allow himself to be vulnerable with you.

and after three years together, he fed from you for the first time. a lot of planning went into the initial feeding: after the end of the racing season, a trip away just for the two of you, george would satiate his thirst with his usual blood donor supply, he wouldn’t drink more than six ounces from you, you’d eat a full meal and be properly hydrated, and of course, he’d drink from you when you orgasm. the bite hurts in the beginning—george has been told many stories from feeders—and the most common distraction to the pain is a simultaneous orgasm. you were apprehensive yet extremely willing to allow george to drink from you, and told him that you trusted him completely—you even sat through his numerous clinical rundowns of the plan without complaining.

however in the moment, george diverted from the script. instead of having you cum once, george forced three orgasms out of you and bit you on the last one. he practically mauled your neck, chest, and hickeys throughout the night, as if he was teasing himself with the indents on of his teeth on your body before he bit into you. you couldn’t figure out if it was the venom from his bite or the multiple orgasms that had you floating pleasurably. george couldn’t deny that seeing you covered in love bites and his actual fang marks didn’t provoke a hidden possessive trait in him. the love bites he left on your body would fade within a few days, the bite mark would fade in around two weeks—and you told george explicitly that if he ever wanted to feed from you again, he’d be more than welcome to do so.

the vampire always thought that he was the one who was at risk for getting addicted to your blood; his greatest fear being that he wouldn’t be able to resist sucking you dry. however, it rapidly dawned on him: you’re the one who formed an addiction.

george always made sure his thirst was properly sated with his usual blood bags before he drank from you. over three months, he’d consistently make you cum whenever he bit you, whether it was with his fingers, cock, mouth, thigh, etc. but he never quite realized that he conditioned you into cumming whenever he bit you, until the singapore grand prix.

singapore was hot. it wasn’t hell on earth like qatar, but it was still fucking hot. and then, he crashed. as he made his way back to the mercedes garage (stomping under the force of his self-deprecation), he became increasingly aware of the tingle in the back of his throat; he’s hungry, he needs blood. he ignores his race engineer asking if he needs medical attention, and asks for a ‘juicebox,’ the codeword for a blood-bag. only to find out, he had his last one yesterday after qualifying—the hotter race weekends have him draining his supply quicker than usual. the vampire whimpers, and suddenly he’s bombarded by you speeding over from the back of the garage. you’re tugging his face down to eye level, worriedly asking if he’s hurt, but george can only register how alluring your blood smells. contrary to popular vampiric-belief (if that’s a thing, he has no clue), blood does not smell sweet. it smells metallic, and the overall scent is affected by water content and ph-level; you smell velvety, and absolutely perfect to george.

the vampire briefly reassures you that he’s fine, before he grabs you by the hand and turns to toto. george begs his team principal to postpone any of his post-race interviews for as long as he can so he can get a brief feeding in with you before he loses his mind any further. toto cuts george’s pleads off immediately and allows him to do whatever he needs; the brit's temper is short enough already, if your blood can calm his mouth toto will personally send you a brand new g-wagon.

george pulls you along to his driver’s room, slowing when he hears how you’re tripping over your feet two match his speed. he shoves the door open, but kindly guides you with a palm on the small of your back into the room, before he steps in and slams the door shut, locking it with a quickness. he speedily sits on the edge of his couch, and pulls you onto his lap, staring up at you with wide, pleading eyes.

“love,” he starts, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip, “may i drink from you? i should’ve been smarter about preserving my supply, usually i’m more careful about it, but i think i was just overager with everything this weekend. i’ll only take a small sip, just enough to hold me over until we fly back home, yeah? i mean, if you’re uncomfortable, i will not drink from you. i should be able to wait—”

you cover the vampire’s mouth with a hand, and smile softly at him, “yes, georgie, you can feed from me. the whole point of drinking from me was to have me acclimate to the feeling for rare situations like this, yes? i’m okay with it, you can take as much as you need from me.”

george stares at you for a few seconds, for some reason, he’s surprised at your easy allowance, before he’s shaken out of his stupor by you waving a hand in front of his face.

“i won’t be able to make you cum—i need to get out there as soon as possible,” george rambles out.

“ok,” you state, looking at him oddly, “i’m pretty sure i’ll be able to handle it, and if not you’ll know before i do.”

the brit asks if you’re sure one last time, before he effortlessly stands up with you in his arms, spins around and places you on the couch, sitting you where he was. the vampire kneels in front of you, and parts your legs gently, before tugging at the waistband of your pants for permission. you’re still reeling from his easy manhandling (you forget about his superior strength, he never makes it obvious), and how he fell to knees for you—the duality of his actions has you embarrassingly hot. you lift your hips up allowing george to tug off your pants, and you see firsthand how he loses his train of thought.

when george brings you along to a race, he avoids leaving marks in a visible spots, so unfortunately for him, your neck and torso are complete bruise free; the humid weather in singapore meant that you would be wearing tank tops or cropped shirts, so he can’t risk someone seeing a smidge of a bruise on your body; they wouldn’t understand. although, george could take his fill of marking you up on your thighs. the dark skin of your inner thighs is mottled with bruises from his lips and indents of his teeth, all in various stages of healing observed by the various shades of purple they’re colored in. george slowly presses a finger into one of the marks and smirks when a strangled gasp escapes you from the pressure. if the vampire wasn’t so focused on the scent of your blood, he’d probably notice how that motion alone already had you wet.

george buries his head between your thighs, close enough that you can feel the exhales of breath from his nose over your panties. you shift, squirming away from the feeling—this is about giving george blood, which he needs for sustenance, not for you to get turned on at, you try to remind yourself. the brit halts your movements, his hands flexing around you only slightly. you try and buck your hips away to test his grip, and you don’t move a single centimeter. you glance down, making eye-contact with your boyfriend, and the teasing smile he’s hiding behind your thigh has your heart rabbiting faster, even though you roll your eyes at him. george begins to lick and nip across your thighs searching for the best spot to pierce your skin, and you are trapped in your own mind. you’re at the mercy of an immortal being, you have no chance of fighting him off if you needed to. of course, you’re very aware that george wouldn’t lay a finger on you, but your hindbrain runs off of instincts, and it’s telling you george is a predator and you’re clearly his next meal. the adrenaline thrumming underneath your skin causes you to start breathing a little heavier and you manage to wrangle the instinctual fear away to relax under him. george startles you from your thoughts when his cold hand leads yours to rest on the nape of his neck, and he pauses when he feels you jump underneath him.

“hey, you can still say ‘no’ if you’re not ready for this yet. there’s no pressure, love,” george reassures you. the calming tone of his voice has no judgemental lilt, and his words soothe you enough to double-down with your agreement.

“thank you for doing this for me, love. as soon as we get back to the hotel, i’ll take care of you properly–i promise,” george praises you, “now, remember, this won’t take any longer than ten seconds. if you need me to stop beforehand, pinch the skin on my neck and i’ll stop, okay?”

you swallow, clearing your throat, “yes, george. can we start already? my nerves will scare me away if we wait too long.”

george nods, hands petting at your waist reassuringly, before he focuses back on your thighs. his nose tracing along your sensitive skin for a few more seconds, until he stops and nuzzles at a spot almost on the underside of your left thigh, close enough to your pussy to have the fear fade under the anticipation of pleasure. the vampire kisses at the spot three times, before he lets his fangs slide out with an audible shlick. he presses them gently against you skin for a few seconds before he bites down.

the pain isn’t from the invasion of his fangs, but from the spread of the venom. it burns as it spreads through your bloodstream; you imagine this is what boiling alive feels like. the feeling is immense but fleeting. the initial bite has always been paralyzing, but when george takes the first pull of blood, the venom must have reached your brain and taken effect, because the pain instantly switches to an immobilizing amount of pleasure. the scream that was originally building in your chest transforms into a keening moan, the burning pain no longer present.

you feel your core tightening as george continues to feast on your blood; thighs trembling in pleasure, eyes rolling back overwhelmed, and toes curling. it’s happening so quickly, quick enough that you don’t register that you’re cumming. waves of pleasure crash over you unendingly, and you’re unable to figure out why. every drag of blood george takes ruins any chance you have to think. the pleasure is so catastrophic that you don’t even register when george releases the bite.

the vampire can only stare up at you in awe as your mouth parts, drool beginning to leak from the corner of your lips, your eyes slamming shut, and face scrunching from the force of the orgasm he ripped out of you. george soothes the bite closed with careful sweeps of his tongue, allowing you all the time you need to come back to him. he softly sucks a few more marks into the meat of your thigh before he fights himself away from cradle of your legs, brushing a kiss on your cunt over your panties.

the vampire slides his way onto the couch next to you, pulling you into his arms to allow you to shake through the aftershocks in his grasp. he presses kisses to your forehead, while he murmurs praises freely. while his mouth is running in one direction, his thoughts take a completely different turn.

he’s ruined you for any other person. he’s trained you to orgasm with a simple bite of his fangs. your body has correlated the painful spread of his venom with pleasure. george has tied you to him for the rest of your life. this is a huge fucking problem. his mind starts racing; if that’s the case he either needs to work that out of you, or he can never feed from you in situations like this again. you’ll be useless for the rest of the day, your brain has turned into jello. he needs to make sure that he manages his blood supply properly in the future, so he doesn’t have to drink from you where the media can discover how gone you are.

george has no idea how he would go about un-training your…pleasurable…response to his bite. on second thought, george doesn’t want to change your newfound reflex. if anything, it’s like an equal exchange. the vampire satiates his thirst, and you satiate your thirst. george coos at you adoringly when he hears the near inaudible moans your breathing into his neck—yeah, he thinks you’ll agree with him when you’re aware enough to do so.

he finds himself tracing the fresh bite mark with a thumb, groaning when your hips grind against him in return. he fumbles his phone out of his pocket to tell toto he needs at least another twenty minutes.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld@buendiabebeta@butterfly-lover@lana-d3l-rey@dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj@miahgonzalez16@jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic@sweetpiccolo-blog@my-ylenia @zaynzierulez@reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane @inloveallthetime

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ethereal27cereal · 2 years

Text

Curls - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

part 2

summary: Eddie is getting ready to meet your parents for the first time after a year of dating. He is particularly nervous about impressing them, so you help him do his hair. And then help him relax a little 😉

warnings: smut 18+ MINORS DNI. established relationship, kissing, breast play, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (mention of birth control but still wrap it up and be safe 👍🏻), lots of sweet sappiness between Eddie and reader, reader has curly hair but it is not described in great detail, reader is implied as plus size but doesn’t have to be read that way, reader has relationship with both parents. I think that is it but let me know if I missed something.

genre: fluff, smut

word count: 4.9K

author’s note: I couldn’t get the idea out of my head about doing Eddie’s hair and so this just all kind of came rambling out. Any feedback is always appreciated 💕

may 1993

“You said I’m not supposed to brush it out when it’s dry, yeah?” Eddie asks, eyebrows scrunching together as he tries to remember your advice. He’d remembered the part about not washing his hair everyday, and has opted for just a quick shower, already dry and in his blue checkered boxers. But it is every other step that comes next that is making his palms sweat and doubt creep into his mind.

Eddie is normally pretty particular about his appearance, he has his set look and he feels like he does it well - ripped jeans, white Reeboks, a wide variety of metal band t-shirts, an assortment of rings and chains, topped off by his signature fluffy, long mane. But today is different.

He’s not just dressing to impress you, you always love the way he looks, but your parents…they might be a different story. Your parents are coming into town for the weekend and will finally get to meet Eddie after almost twelve months of dating. You can’t lie, you’re a bit nervous about introducing them to your long-haired, metal loving boyfriend, but Eddie looks like he could pass out every time you bring up the subject.

He has been fighting the urge to crawl out of his skin all week at the thought of meeting the people who are responsible for creating the woman he loves more than anything else in the world. And today is finally the day.

Eddie wants to look nice, maybe not suit and tie nice, but he definitely went out to buy a neat looking button down and a pair of unripped jeans at the last minute because nothing in his closet seemed appropriate enough to impress your parents. He wants you to be proud of him, proud to show him off, and he wants your parents not to curse his name and banish him from their existence when he tells them he’s planning on proposing to you.

So he will do his hair, put on clothes that make him feel like he might suffocate, and put on his warmest smile to impress what he hopes are his future in-laws.

He hesitates before grabbing the hairbrush off the counter and turns toward you, freshly clean and dripping wet as you step out of the shower. Even after nearly a year together, Eddie still has to steady his racing thoughts and keep himself from gaping at your naked form. His eyes trace a path up and down your body, drinking in all the delicious curves he feels lucky to have become so intimately familiar with.

Before answering, you bend down, abundant rounded breasts swaying slightly as you shift from side to side to begin forming the ringlets of your own curls, a cascade of water droplets darting out to hit his bare chest. Years of practice allow you to make quick work of the ringlets, looping them into place deftly before scrunching over them with a light layer of gel.

“Yeah, only brush it when it’s wet. You’ll lose the curl definition and maybe damage your curls if you’re dry brushing a lot,” you remind him sweetly before continuing on with your routine.

Eddie gapes, mesmerized at the process as you swing your hair from side to side, tummy and breasts jiggling temptingly as you move about. You twirl a few errant curls around your fingers and gaze at yourself in the mirror, smirking as you catch him staring in the reflection. Satisfied with your mane, you reach to grab your towel and roughly run it over your arms before bringing one foot up on the edge of the tub to dry your legs.

Eddie watches intently as you rub the plush warm towel over your body, moving down your chest and over your tummy to your legs. The way the swell of your breasts rests against the gentle rolls of your belly has his cock stirring against the pilled cotton of his boxers. He tries to tamp down the feelings, but the nerves make him needy and he wants the comfort that can only come from your touch.

“Let me help you with that,” Eddie smirks with his quick suggestion, replacing your hands with his own as he brings the towel up from your legs and to your breasts. You roll your eyes playfully, but can never really deny him and his pretty persistent desires to touch you.

His chocolatey brown eyes glow as he gently squeezes and massages both of your tits, clearly not with the intent of actually drying you off. With a skillful familiarity, he pinches and tweaks your nipples through the thick cotton, making your knees momentarily wobble and you find yourself biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning. He gives you a cocky smirk before pulling his hands and the towel away.

“Gotta check and see if they’re dry,” he insists, his needy hands now palming around the full weight of your breasts and heaving them upwards and together, creating one of his favorite sights in the world. A pleased hum rumbles from the back of his throat and he dips his head down to place a tender kiss to the petal soft flesh on the top of your breasts.

“Hmm, still a little wet I think,” Eddie proposes, quirking his eyebrows at you as he grabs for the towel again. Your breath hitches in anticipation as Eddie lifts one breast at a time and gently swipes the towel under each ample globe.

He drops the towel to the floor between your feet, but his hand doesn’t leave your chest, still offering teasing squeezes to each breast. With a sudden molten look in his eyes, his head drops back down to your tits, tenderly tugging your peaked nipple in between his teeth. Mewling moans and sighs freely escape your lips as he lavishes you with attention, sucking and swirling his tongue around the aching bud.

Your tummy flutters wildly and a growing heat begins to coil in your core when he releases your nipple from his mouth with a wet pop and moves further up your pillowy breast, leaving soft lilac bruises in his wake. He sets in on devouring you with a growl, strong arms snaking around your soft waist when your knees finally do fully buckle and you melt against his chest.

“Eddie,” his name comes out as a breathy moan from your lips.

“Mmm, you taste so good baby, I need you,” his words blow warm against the column of your throat and it takes everything in you not to give yourself fully to him, right then and there against the bathroom sink.

“Eddie, we can’t. We gotta get ready, I don’t want to be late,” you sigh, tugging slightly at his curls to pull him away from your neck. He moves away, scowling at his sudden eviction, but his hands stay firmly gripped around your waist, holding you to him.

“Fine. But help me do my hair, please. I don’t have it down quite as well as you do,” he relents with a sigh, placing a lingering kiss on your cheek. “Lemme just wet it first, I guess,” Eddie turns toward the sink and begins to run the water, dipping his head down to dunk it underneath the stream.

“Hey, whoa, let’s maybe use the spray bottle. The bathroom is going to be a sopping wet mess that way,” you suggest with a laugh, pulling him away from the sink and ushering him toward the closed toilet to sit down. You pull out your spray bottle, special brush, and detangler spray, ready to make some magic with Eddie’s curly mane.

“The spray bottle always makes me feel like I’ve been bad and I’m getting scolded,” his expression turns into a grimace and he cringes away from the misting spray.

“Some dark secrets coming out here, my love, did you get scolded with a spray bottle, Eddie?” you ask with an incredulous laugh, pausing your hand that is on the spray bottle.

“I mean, if I was being super naughty…” he begins with a sheepish grin.

“Which you often are…” you conclude playfully, but nod for him to finish his story.

“Uncle Wayne had one to use on the stray cats around the trailer park. We liked to feed them and watch them play around, but sometimes they would get a little feisty and try to fight each other. So he always had his handy dandy spray bottle in case he had to break up a fight,” he recounts thoughtfully, a boyish beaming smile plastered to his face.

“And if I was ever being too feisty and trying to get into fights, or just especially pissing him off, he had no qualms about spraying me right in the face with that spray bottle. He got me right in the eye one time,” Eddie chuckles and looks up at you, honest brown eyes searching your expression.

“Honestly, seems like a pretty good method for keeping you in line, Munson,” you smirk, holding the spray bottle somewhat threateningly in front of him.

“Ahhh no, please,” he whines in protest and waves a dramatic hand in front of him, tilting back away from you.

“Don’t worry, I won’t. I have other ways of making you behave,” you tease, suggestively waving your tits in his face as you begin to lightly mist the back of his head. With a happy grumble, he buries his face in your breasts, using his hands to mush them together around his cheeks. He inhales deeply before pulling his face away from the soft pillowy flesh, the scent of your body wash and your naturally sweet smell lingering in his nostrils.

“I think I like your way of making me behave better,” Eddie nods thoughtfully, settling into position as you begin to spray his curls again. You carefully cover his face with your palm as you mist his feathery bangs. He blindly reaches out to flick on the boombox and turns the track to your latest favorite, and even though it isn’t metal, it has become one of his favorites just because of how much you love it.

Dolores O’Riordan’s lilting voice echoes through the small bathroom as you bop along to the ringing guitars in the intro of Dreams, and Eddie can’t help but smile. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would be sitting in a bathroom, listening to The Cranberries, and getting his hair finger curled by the naked woman he is madly in love with. Your sweet hesitant voice begins to sing along, just barely above a whisper, but Eddie trains his ear to listen to every word.

And now I tell you openly

You have my heart so don't hurt me

You're what I couldn't find

A totally amazing mind

So understanding and so kind

You're everything to me

Eddie feels his chest clench and tighten at the lyrics, biting back the lump that was forming in his throat. He knows he’s being a bit silly and dramatic, but the words feel like they’re meant for him, for you, for your relationship together.

His life hasn’t been easy, he doesn’t complain often, but it has made him hard around the edges. But ever since you have come into his life, everything is softness. Your touch, your heart, your smile, your words, your body. Like being wrapped in a plush warm blanket after a long draining day, the feeling of coming home. You are soft, pillowy, and welcoming. And it makes all of the hardness and bitterness inside him weaken, leaving only softness and warmth behind.

You have made quick work of his curls, lightly brushing out the knots as you sing along. You sway to the rhythm while finger coiling some face framing pieces, pausing suddenly when you notice the gentle wobbling of Eddie’s chin as he ducks his head and tries to swipe away a stray tear.

“Hey, what’s up buttercup?” you sooth, setting down your brush and lifting his chin to look at you. His chocolate eyes are brimmed with tears waiting to fall, his pink cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he tries to hide.

“Nothing, it’s dumb, I’m just being dumb,” Eddie swallows harshly and forces a thin smile.

“Nuh uh, don’t talk about my handsome boyfriend like that. You’re not being dumb and whatever you are crying about is certainly not dumb,” you reassure sweetly, tenderly cupping his cheeks in your hands.

“I..I…think I’m just really fucking stressed. With working so much lately and your parents coming into town, I think I just am really worried,” Eddie begins, his voice cracking with every other word.

“Worried about what?,” you ask innocently, trying not to think too hard about the ring box you found in his jeans pocket when doing laundry last week. You try to fix your face into a look of oblivious concern, just in case your expressions betray you.

“I want your parents to like me, and think I’m good enough for you. And don’t start saying ‘of course they will’. You have everything in your life all figured out, and I don’t feel like I have much going on to offer you, especially on just my lousy mechanics salary. I know you don’t think of it that way, but I just want you to be proud of me and not feel ashamed of introducing me to your parents,” he finishes with a choked sound, and begins chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Eddie, my love, I am immensely proud of you! I brag about you, your band, all of the accomplishments you’ve made at the shop with your promotion, and pretty much everything about you to just about everyone I meet. And that includes my parents. They already know all about you, and already love you because I love you,” you insist, petting his bangs out of his eyes and whisking away a few more tears that threaten to fall from his lashes. He gazes up, nodding solemnly, but unable to form words that would even come close to an appropriate response to your endless kindness and support.

“What can I do to help? We have about..30 more minutes before we have to leave, do you need cuddles?” you coo, a hint of condescension creeping into your voice as you see him perk up and begin to lick his lips in anticipation. He peeks up at you through his thick lashes, plump lips turned down in a frown for extra dramatic effect.

“Not just cuddles, sweetheart, I need you. I need to be inside you,” he pouts, hands coming up to rest on the swell off your ass, squeezing and testing the fullness of both cheeks. You nod, biting your lip seductively as you pull him up to stand with you. With a strangled moan, Eddie’s lips are crashing against yours, biting and licking with an insatiable need that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

He begins to guide you backwards toward your shared bedroom, using your butt to steer you away from walls and other sharp furniture. The backs of your knees bump against the bed, and in one swift motion, Eddie tosses you up onto the mattress with a pillowy plop. Despite his slight frame, sinewy muscles lurk beneath his pale skin and he doesn’t seem to expend any significant effort as he tugs you further up the bed so your head is resting against the soft downy pillows.

Eddie settles back into the kiss, making a sloppy claim on your mouth before raining a million wet kisses down your body. His touch is needy and hungry, anything but patient as he leaves hasty bites against the swell of your breasts, grabbing hands spreading your legs wide as he dips his head down further. Out of habit, you go to tangle your fingers into his hair, guiding his kisses where you need him most, but stop suddenly when you see the fresh delicate ringlets in your fingertips.

“Wait, baby, I’m going to fuck up your hair if you do that right now. Later. I need you to…” you try to finish your thoughts before he flicks his tongue teasingly against your clit, words dissolving into a breathy gasp as you impulsively arch up against his tongue.

“Mmm, what do you need, princess? Tell me what you need,” Eddie growls against your heat, licking a teasing stripe up your slit before looking up into your eyes for an answer, smoldering pools of burnt caramel gazing at you intently.

“Fuck, Eddie…I need…I need you to fill me up, please,” you pant breathlessly, fingers flexing and gripping the sheets so you don’t mess up his curls.

“With my fingers…?” he wiggles a teasing digit inside, your walls immediately spasm and clench around his finger with frantic need, tossing your head back into the pillow without a care for your own wet curls.

“Or does this tight little pussy need more?” he asks with a sly grin, suddenly pulling his finger from your wetness and dipping it in his mouth. “Fuck, sweetheart, you taste so good,” he hums as he pops his pointer finger out of his lips and crawls up from between your thighs.

“Eddie, please, I need you to fuck me, now,” you huff and whine, pulling him back up to eye level with you.

“Jeez, lovey, somebody sure is needy. And you act like I’m the sex crazed one around h…” he begins teasingly, but is cut off with a choked groan as you reach down to wrap your hand around his cock. You guide his swollen tip through your silky folds, both of you shaking in anticipation before he plunges in. His lips immediately find yours again, gasps and moans overflowing between your lips when he buries himself deep inside your molten core.

He steadies himself for a moment, letting you throb and flex around him while you adjust to the delicious sting of being so filled by him. Your hands grip wildly at his shoulders and you kiss a frantic path across the small portion of his chest, biting at the skull and spider inked against his collarbone.

“Christ you feel so fucking amazing, so tight and wet for me,” his voice shakes as he begins to set a steady pace. Slowly pumping his thick length all the way in and drawing back out in a dizzying rhythm that has you almost immediately seeing stars. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on lasting more than a few moments despite the blooming heat beginning to rise in your tummy and take over. Yours and Eddie’s moans and sighs along with the filthy slapping sounds of sex fills the room, and your sounds only become more unabashedly loud when he snakes a hand in between your bodies to rub against your sensitive clit.

Your ears ring and your legs begin to tremble, your release boiling and bubbling in your core, ready to explode. You babble incoherently, something about being close and not wanting it to be over yet, not sure any of that comes out as intelligible words until Eddie responds.

“That’s alright, come for me my love, I want to feel you cum all over my cock,” he coos, calloused thumb pressing delicate circles against your clit and you feel yourself unwind. With a strangled scream, your body is shaking, inner walls fluttering wildly around his girth. “That’s it, that’s my pretty girl. Such a good girl coming so hard for me,” his voice is intoxicatingly deep, filled with heat and desire as he watches you unravel at his touch.

Before your vision fully clouds over, your eyes flicker open, needing to look up at the love of your life. Eddie is gazing down at you, chocolate brown eyes blown into inky pools full of love, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he tries to keep a steady pace with you writhing underneath him. You reach up to cup his cheek, whispering a breathy ‘I love you’ as you begin to slowly come back to your senses.

“Christ, sweetheart, I love you too, but you’re driving me crazy. I can still taste you on my lips and I need to be down there so fucking bad right now,” Eddie groans and suddenly pulls out of you, leaving you with an empty throbbing feeling as you reach to bring him back to you. But he’s already down with his face in between your legs, strong hands pushing your thighs down to the mattress so you’re well out of his way. He gently tucks the stray curls framing his face behind his ears and gives you a sheepish grin.

“You’re going to hold my hands so you’re not tempted to mess up my hair, but I’m going to make you come on my tongue. And if that makes us late, then so be it,” he affirms and reaches up to tangle his fingers in yours, holding them firmly against your still wobbly thighs.

Without another word, he dives in, licking and sucking your sensitive folds. His movements are frenzied and hungry, determined to consume every bit of you like a man starved. He sucks and nips harshly at your clit, before slithering his tongue downward to delve inside your quivering hole. He sets a punishing rhythm, knowing just exactly where to lick and kiss to make you a whimpering mess.

Within a skillfully short amount of time, he brings you back to the edge again. You buck your hips against his tongue and lips, trying to fight your way towards release as the crushing pressure is building in your belly once again. He steadies you with your intertwined fingers, keeping you from floating away and losing your mind.

“Just let go, my love, I know you’re right there. I can feel it. Just let go for me,” he purrs in between sloppy licks and kisses to your folds, tugging them in his lips before releasing the petal like flesh with a pop. With another high pitched moan, you’re tumbling into the precipice of your orgasm. Your body courses with electricity as he delivers a few more harsh kisses to your overly sensitive bud and you fight and writhe to release your hands from his to grab at him. But he doesn’t let you. He keeps your hands tangled with his in a gentle firmness that leaves you feeling even more weak and lightheaded.

Before you’ve had a chance to catch your breath, he’s back up on his knees, pulling you by your hips to meet him and sliding a pillow under your butt for added support. Eddie thrusts his cock back inside you with a chesty groan, head lolling back against his shoulders as he hits against your spongy soft center. He pounds into you with the same intensity and hunger he had when he’d tasted you, relentless and needy to fill you up and feel you all around him. Eddie’s eyes never leave your face as he reaches up to play with your breasts, a whimpered sigh leaving his lips as he pinches your pebbled peak between his thumb and forefinger.

You suddenly feel overwhelmed with it all, his intense gaze seeing you, all of you, the love that burns where your bodies meet, and another orgasm slowly winding a tight coil in your core. You clench your eyes tight again and throw an arm over your face, trying to hide from the gut wrenching intimacy that happens every time you’re with Eddie like this.

“Look at me, sweetheart, please, I want to see you when I come,” he gently pulls your arm away from your face, lacing your fingers together and rubbing a comforting pattern on the back of your hand as he urges you to open your eyes. Despite your heavy lids and burning cheeks, you open your eyes, met with his sweet beaming smile.

“There you are, my love. So beautiful, so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his face pinching in pleasure as you clench involuntarily around him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come so hard,” he warns shakily, gasping and panting but still never looking away from you. You nod in response to his warning, pressing him on with a whimpered ‘please’ as you feel your own release finally creeping over you. A third flash of pleasure seeps into your veins and you throb weakly around his thrusting cock, sending him over to his own release.

Eddie rattles off a string of babbled praises, your name and words of unending love leaving his lips as he pumps you full of his seed. He shutters and you feel a final warm surge of his climax spurt into you, coating your walls and marking you as his. The thought of anyone having that kind of claim over you would’ve made you sick in the past, too possessive and all encompassing. But with Eddie, that’s all you wanted. To be his and for him to be yours.

“You are so gorgeous like this, well I mean, you are gorgeous all the time. But god, when I come inside you and I look down and there you are, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I feel like I’m losing my fucking mind,” he confesses with a babbling sincerity that you will never ever grow tired of. You blush and hide your eyes behind your fingers, peeking through them to see him grinning at you.

“I love you so much,” he sighs, resting his hands on the slope of your hips as he grows soft inside you.

“I love you so much, Eddie,” you smile, reaching down to squeeze his fingers gently.

With a hiss, he pulls out of you, propping himself up on his elbow to watch his cum slowly slide out of you. Eddie smirks and in tenderly possessive motion, he pools the release in his fingers and pushes it back inside you.

“That belongs in there,” he tsks, booping your clit with his pointer finger before sitting up with a grin plastered on his face.

“I mean, my handy dandy birth control is going to say otherwise but…” you reply with a chuckle, sitting up on shaky elbows to look at him. He shakes his head and shrugs, curls bouncing around his pretty face.

“I just want you to remember who came inside you and made you come three fucking times while we’re sitting there with your parents and they’re grilling me about my intentions with their daughter,” he concludes, hopping up from the bed and pulling on his boxers.

“So that was your little plan? Remind me how much you’re worth keeping around with how hard and fast you can get me off just in case tonight goes south?” you guffaw, knowing that wasn’t truly his plan, but ribbing him nonetheless. You stand up from the bed, and immediately buckle. He holds out a hand as your wobbly knees threaten you again, but you manage to steady yourself against him.

“Well, I mean it’s true. I do make you come,” he pecks a cheeky kiss against your lips, “a lot. And I do want to remind you of that. All the time. But I just needed you. And hey look, we aren’t even going to be late,” he points out happily, gesturing towards the glowing red alarm clock on your bedside.

You weren’t going to be late, but you both definitely need to hurry to dress and get out the door. With nimble fingers, you help Eddie button his shirt, smoothing over the soft wrinkles that he had neglected to press out. You toss on your dress, settling for something simple but classic paired with a dainty set of opal earrings Eddie had gifted you for your birthday.

Eddie sighs, finally dry curls bobbing around his face as he gazes into the full length mirror, no ripped jeans, no band t-shirt, no rings or chains, dressed head to toe in an outfit that makes him look like a schoolboy. He frowns at his appearance, trying to hide his expression when he sees you peer over his shoulder.

“You look great, but you don’t look like you,” you ponder, scurrying away to grab a few things off his dresser, the heavy objects clinking in your palm as you bounce back to him.

You slip behind him, securing his signature chain with a guitar pick around his throat before slithering around to his front to undo a few shirt buttons, framing the glittering chain against his pale collarbones. You grab his left hand, slipping on the grinning skull, pig, and cross in a neat row on his pointer, middle, and ring fingers respectively. With a tender motion, you slip his bejeweled class ring on the ring finger of his right hand.

You step back, admiring your handiwork before lightly fluffing your fingers through his curls. Eddie practically glows under your gaze, soft wavy ringlets haloed around his head, ochre eyes shining with fear, hope, and love.

“There, much better. Still the Eddie I know and love but with a twist,” you beam up at him before grabbing his shaking hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He nods and puffs out his cheeks with a great sigh.

“Ready?” you ask, leading him slowly toward the front door.

“Ready.”

Little taglist of people who I thought might want to read: @boomhauer @wtf-lindsay @seidenbros @thisishellfire @wroteclassicaly @a-time-for-wolvess @kissmecaiti

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #joesph quinn #joe quinn

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writeonwhiskey · 7 months

Text

the skz house: ch 12 (18+)

a/n: thank you to @bahablastplz for editing & shmeems for proofreading.

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Chan.

[ read chapter eleven here ]

Chapter Twelve: Of Delays and Professor Bang

On your way to school Monday morning, Chan tells you to stay with Hyunjin again tonight. There’s no hiding the look of confusion on your face as you turn to face him. You don’t know if he assumes you and Hyunjin have already had sex or if it’s a new revelation—you wouldn’t be surprised if there were an iridescent aura surrounding you after the night you had with Hyunjin. Isn’t that what Chan wanted? You don’t want to read too deeply into his words, however you can’t help but feel like he’s pushing you away.

Chan’s eyes remain focused on the road. Even if he were looking at you, you’d have no idea what he’s thinking. You never do.

“Have another night with him, since the challenge starts this week,” he adds to his alarming statement with a shrug, as if it’s no big deal.

Maybe it is.

“Is this a game of hot potato?” You ask, half joking. “And I’m the potato being tossed around?”

“Is that how it feels?”

“A little bit.” You softly admit.

“If you’re uncomfortable, remember you can always le—”

“Chan,” you cut him off sharply. “I’m not saying I want to leave. I’m actually starting to settle in and enjoy myself. I’m just expressing how I feel. People have feelings, you do know that, right?”

He turns to look at you when he stops at a red light.

“The SKZ house is not a place for feelings, y/n. You do know that, right?” He counters.

You suck in a breath at his words and face forward. Clearly Chan has overcome his hangover and is back to being an asshat.

Hyunjin has no problem with your feelings. To hear you out when you express them, to cater to them, to protect them. Chan tramples all over them, like they’re dirt beneath his feet.

That can’t be entirely true, though. He showed that to you yesterday when he apologized.

You sigh and lean back against the headrest. It’s like he wants to provoke you sometimes, to make you angry, make you snap…to make you leave.

It infuriates you that he believes he could have such an influence over you. If he were smart, he’d give it a shot when you’re at your weakest—when he’s teasing you to the brink of insanity. You’d agree to damn near anything in those moments. But right now, with your full wits about you, he’s just pissed you off.

You fix your posture in the seat, feeling your determination to not let him get his way increase. In this car ride, on your way to your shared class, you make the decision to do whatever it takes to make Chan break in November. You’ll make him see he can’t push you around, that two can play this game. You’ll have him begging you for once.

On Tuesday, the duration of your afternoon class is filled with reminiscing about your bonus night with Hyunjin. You try to remain focused, but your thoughts keep drifting back to him and the things he did to you. That boy is made of magic and being with him, having him inside of you, makes you feel like you are too.

After class you wait in the parking lot for Changbin and Seungmin as usual for this day of the week. You’re dreading the thought of going home and being in Chan’s room. With tomorrow being November 1st, you can only assume he plans to get in a month’s worth of you in one night. And even more, you know you’ll cave to his needs the second his lips are on yours. But you can delay it. You can make him wait.

When Changbin and Seungmin make it back to the car, you put your plan to stall going home into action.

“Minnie…Binnie,” you address them ever so sweetly as they approach.

Changbin arches a suspicious eyebrow, Seungmin grins.

“How do you guys feel about a pit stop at the mall?”

“What for?” Changbin asks, unlocking the car doors.

“I need to pick up something.”

No, you don’t.

“Sure,” Seungmin agrees.

You smile at him in return and get into the backseat.

“I have a strict food court tax, as the driver,” Changbin informs you while starting up the car.

Your smile widens. That’s just perfect. Another pit stop.

“I got you, Binnie Boo.”

Changbin scrunches up his face at the nickname.

“Oh, but if I were Hyunjin, you’d eat that right up.” You roll your eyes.

“Well, yeah,” he admits without hesitation. “That’s the love of my life.”

He holds a straight face for a second before breaking out into a smile and you all laugh as he backs out of the parking space.

Your detour to the mall ends up taking three hours. It’s officially Halloween day so the inside is crowded with parents and their young children trick-or-treating at the stores. Just as planned, you all end up stopping at various stores along the way to the one you need to get to (you’ve no idea which, but it’s okay). Changbin gets a hat from LIDS. Seungmin buys a bracelet from a kiosk. Then you all head for the arcade and when they’re planted in the seats of a race car game, you leave them there for a bit to complete your imaginary errand. You go to a nearby clothing store and pick out a new pair of jeans and a couple of form fitting tops, remembering the suggestions Jeongin had for you what feels like forever ago.

Hyunjin reaches out to see where you are. Chan does not.

When you meet back up with them you go to the food court and get Changbin a meal from Hot Dog On A Stick at his request, and treat yourself and Seungmin to pretzels from Auntie Annie’s, even though he didn’t ask for anything. After you kill some more time eating, the three of you stop at Spencer’s to see what kind of odd items they have on display.

There are shirts with suggestive images and phrases, lollipops and shot glasses shaped like dicks, sex card games, drinking games, and even vibrators and anal plugs tucked away in the back corner. You each purchase something wildly inappropriate (you make sure to checkout when they’re both preoccupied to avoid judgement or teasing for your items) and then decide to leave the mall.

There’s a smug look on your face as you check the time—it’s nearly 7:00pm now.

Mission success.

The drive home takes an additional twenty minutes and when you enter the neighborhood, trick-or-treaters are walking the sidewalks. You convince Changbin to drive around so you can look at everyone’s exterior decorations because another ten minutes won’t hurt.

It’s 7:30 when you make it back to the house. Changbin has you and Seungmin exit the car first. He opens the garage door so Seungmin can back out the other Tesla that’s on the charger and swap it out for this one. You let them handle that and take your backpack and shopping bags into the house.

Jeongin and Charlotte are at the door passing candy out. Hyunjin, Han, Lee Know and Felix are in the living room, but you don’t see Chan. You set your bag by the stairs, wave to the couch surfers, get a wink from Hyunjin, and go to the kitchen, right in time to help Allie and Rhiannon make dinner.

You text Chan when dinner is done, but he tells you to bring up your plates. Plural.

You have a lot to lug up the stairs. You put your backpack on, slide your shopping bags onto your arms, then pick up the tray with your plates on it. When you make it to his door you kick it gently with your foot, but loud enough to be heard.

He opens it within seconds. You haven’t seen him all day, so the sight of him in dark jeans and a tucked-in, light blue, pinstriped button up shirt with the top two buttons undone makes you forget what you’re even doing. He’s wearing two different styles of earrings again—a thick silver hoop on his right ear and what looks like silver links on his left. Your eyes fall to the necklace and the silver infinity pendant resting on his skin. He takes the tray from you and steps aside.

“Thank you,” you say, snapping out of your daze.

You’ve never seen him dressed up in this way before. What was he doing all day? He probably went to church to ask forgiveness for the things he’ll do to you tonight.

He shuts the door behind you and sets the tray on his bed as you start to walk towards your own. Before you can reach it, his hand grabs your left wrist, spins you around and pulls you towards him.

What’s with these men doing that to you? And why do you like it so much?

The breath is knocked out of you as you collide with his chest, the shopping bags falling from your right arm. The bag on your left is held in place where his hand is holding your wrist. You slowly bring your eyes up, lingering on that necklace and the skin beneath it, then to his eyes.

“What did you need to get from the mall?” He asks in a low tone.

You resist the urge to arch an eyebrow. So, if he hadn’t texted you about where you were this afternoon…he must have reached out to Seungmin or Changbin instead.

“Stuff,” you reply, hardening your gaze. “Did you need me for something?”

You know there’s now only three and a half hours until midnight. Until November. And you still need to eat, and shower—plus he has an early morning class on Wednesday. Oops. Must have slipped your mind.

It didn’t.

“I had plans for you,” he replies calmly. “What did you have to get?”

It’s none of his business, really.

Not accepting your silence, he looks down at the bag on your wrist. You’re not sure which one fell to the floor, but you silently pray it was the one from Spencer’s.

He lets go of your wrist and removes the bag from it, then holds the bag up in front of you.

“Spencer’s, huh?”

You watch, cursing yourself mentally as he reaches inside the bag. You had felt so damn smug about returning home late and now this is your karma. You can feel the tides changing already, knowing what he is about to discover.

The first thing he pulls out is the deck of cards with “Naughty Party” written on it.

His eyes flicker from the deck of cards to you and you feel your face flush.

He reaches in the bag again and you pray he doesn’t see or feel a particular item you purchased. When his hand comes out of the bag again, this time he’s holding a large pink and purple, cotton candy flavored, dick shaped lollipop. You quickly snatch the bag from him as his eyes light up with laughter.

“That was just an extra stop…I didn’t specifically go there for…” your eyes move to the lollipop and card game in his hand, “that.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he replies as if he doesn’t believe you.

“We should eat before the food gets cold,” you say, tentatively walking backwards until you’re near your bed. You place the bag down and your backpack on top of it, wanting the other item in the bag to remain hidden.

He sits on his own bed, opening the deck of cards. He uses the stick end of the dick lollipop to cut through the shrink wrap securing it.

“I’m actually not that hungry anymore,” he declares. And just like that, he has the upper hand again. “You ate at the food court, right?”

Jesus Christ, do all the members report back to him with everything you do? Or did he ask? The former would make you annoyed…the latter makes you feel disgustingly warm inside.

He sets the trash and lollipop aside and opens the box to take out the cards. You sit on your bed, watching his amused face as he looks through the deck. He separates them on the bed into the five piles you read on the back—icebreaker, foreplay, naughty, kinky, and drink or dare.

He stands from his bed, picks up the tray with your now abandoned dinner on it and puts it on his desk. He then walks to your bed and holds out his hand to you. You place yours in his with a quiet sigh.

He leads you to his bed, bringing you to stand in front of him. He rests his hands on your hips and leans over your shoulder, his cheek just barely touching yours.

“No icebreakers or drinking,” he makes his own rules, of course. “Pick a card.”

That leaves only foreplay, naughty or kinky. Which is the lesser of the three evils you’ve gotten yourself into? You pick up the foreplay card.

He leans over you more to see what it says, gripping your hips, holding you against him. Your heartbeat picks up as he rubs the side of his face against yours. You want to lean back into him, to tell him to forget the game and just do what he wants with you—but this is what he wants now.

“What does it say?” He asks.

“You are desperately trying to get better grades in class. Your partner is…” you stop reading, eyes widening at the words.

“Your partner is your teacher,” Chan continues for you. You can hear the smile in his words. “Convince them to give you a good grade.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, cringing and simultaneously wanting to vomit at the idea of roleplaying. Roleplaying with Chan, no less.

His hands fall from your hips, and you feel him backing away from you. You keep your eyes closed, wanting to kick yourself for even purchasing this game. This is not how you thought tonight to go, and this is not how you intended to use the deck of cards. Karma circled back around quick for your defiant behavior today.

You hear him shuffling around behind you, opening and closing drawers. Then the room falls silent.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Chan says.

You toss the card onto the bed and let out a deep breath. You open your eyes and spin around.

Chan is leaning against his dresser, a pair of circular, gold framed glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose, a red book with gold letters on the cover in his hand. The props combined with the outfit he’s wearing, are perfect for his ‘character’. The sight almost makes you smile—if you weren’t so fucking nervous. You chew on your bottom lip, not knowing what to say or do.

“Ah, y/n.” Chan begins for you. “What brings you to my office?”

He has a teasing smile on his face. You take a step forward and clear your throat.

“Well, Cha—“

He shoots a stern look at you, one brow arched.

“I mean, Professor Bang,” you correct. “I wanted to talk about my grade in your class.”

He snaps the book shut and sits it on the dresser. He pushes his glasses up.

“Ah, yes. They’re not quite what I expected from you,” he says, crossing his legs, then his arms in front of his chest.

You feel silly. So silly. You can’t help but appreciate how serious he’s being. It encourages you to get more into it.

“I know,” you look down at your feet and take a few more steps forward. “Things have been really hectic with work and school; I haven’t been able to keep up with the assignments.”

“I see,” he says flatly. “I wish you’d come to me sooner, it’s too late in the semester now. I don’t think there’s anything you can do about it at this point.”

You slowly look back up at him, trying your best to make your eyes look sad. You chew on your bottom lip again, this time as part of the act.

“Please, sir.”

His lip quirks at the corner hearing that, but he keeps a straight face.

“I can’t fail this class,” you shake your head, walking forward until there’s only a few feet between you. “I know you’re an understanding teacher. There must be something I can do. Some kind of extra credit.”

His eyes fall from your head to your toes, then back up again. Part of you wishes you’d had on better clothing rather than a jacket and jeans. Though—you had rushed to get ready this morning after untangling yourself from Hyunjin and only have on a sports bra beneath the jacket. You could use that to your advantage.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I really don’t think that’s possible.” He shakes his head.

You force out a sad sigh as you bring your hand up to your jacket zipper. You start to pull it down, watching his face, watching his eyes move from yours down to the skin slowly being revealed.

“Sir, I really can’t fail this class,” your tone actually sounds desperate. You stop the zipper just beneath your navel.

“I really don’t think this is appropriate, y/n,” he tells you.

You tentatively close the distance between you. He’s looking directly at your exposed cleavage as you approach. You reach out for the buttons on his shirt.

“I’ll do anything to pass this class, Professor Bang,” you say, emphasizing his oddly fitting last name.

You tentatively undo one button, looking from your hands at work, then back up to him.

You’re not sure how far he’ll go into character, if he’ll try to stop you. You’re also not sure where this sudden confidence emerged from. You’ve never seduced anybody before, you don’t know what you’re doing. The fact that he’s playing along makes it a little more comfortable. The plus side to this debacle is that it’s good practice for next month.

That’s how you have to look at this. You can make this work for your long-term goal. You can give him a night he won’t forget with this act. Something he’ll want more of. Something he’ll want to experience with you again.

You fight against the smile threatening to give away the villainous plan that’s just been sparked in your head.

You’ve got two buttons undone and he hasn’t stopped you. You push up onto your tiptoes, moving your mouth closer to his.

“Anything,” you whisper, letting your lips brush against his.

You kiss along his jawline as your hands keep working on the buttons. You tug on the shirt to pull it out of his pants to finish unbuttoning it, nipping at his neck.

“I could get fired for this,” he says.

With his shirt unbuttoned you slide your hands up his chest, to his shoulders.

“I swear I won’t tell anyone,” you say, pushing his shirt down. You lay a trail of kisses from his right shoulder, across his collarbone, to his left shoulder, while your hand tugs at the button on his jeans, then the zipper.

His hands grip your hips. You slip a hand beneath his boxers. His cock is already hard when you cup it, and it feels like the biggest win.

“I promise.” You hook a finger under his chain. You stand flat on your feet and use the chain to bring him down towards you as you squeeze his cock. His eyes bore into you as he licks his lips. You’d give anything to know what he’s thinking right now. Is this really working? “It’ll be our little secret.”

His mouth crashes against yours and he lets out a groan, pulling your hips against him.

As expected, his lips on yours instantly makes you feel ravenous. You run your hands along his chest as his tongue enters your mouth, caressing yours. You’ve missed the taste of him—not that your time with Hyunjin wasn’t amazing, but the unknown and unaddressed feelings between you and Chan make your intimacy equally pleasing for drastically different reasons.

You push away from him when it becomes too much, needing to take a breath. He seizes the opportunity to finish unzipping your jacket.

“You left the house like this?” His tone is rough and accusatory and makes you wonder if the roleplay is finished. “In just a bra and jacket?”

“Yes,” you’re hesitant to reply.

His lips are back on your skin, leaving a trail of heat as he kisses along your neck while removing your jacket. You tilt your head to the side and arch your back, wanting more of his touch.

“No shirt,” he continues, unzipping the sports bra at the front. “That’s the kind of student you are?”

His hands are on your hips again and he guides you back a little. You drop your hands from his chest and stare up at him, silent. He slides the straps of the bra off your shoulders. As soon as the air hits your nipples you feel them tighten.

He lets out a low breath at the sight. You both remain still.

“I thought you were a good girl, y/n.”

You’re not sure when he took the upper hand again, but you’re thankful for a moment to not think of what your ‘character’ would say and just bask in the feeling of his lustful eyes on you.

“Show me what you’ll do for your grade,” he says, reaching out to cup your breasts. He pinches your nipples between his fingers, making you moan.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and start to pull them down along with his jeans, lowering yourself to your knees. He steps out of them, and you look up. The only remaining item of clothing he has on is his shirt. It’s halfway off, hanging from his biceps—broad, sculpted shoulders and ripped abdomen on full display. You move your hands to his cock, lightly caressing it with your fingertips.

You hold the base with one hand and use your other to glide your pointer finger across the tip until that clear fluid starts to emerge. You lean forward and take him into your mouth, eyes fluttering shut as you push forward to take in as much of him as you can. He grips your hair with both hands, pulling on the strands while you flick your tongue from side to side along the bottom of his shaft.

You squeeze your cheeks together, sucking hard as you pull off his cock, causing a loud popping sound when it comes out.

“I want you to fuck my mouth, Professor Bang,” you say, looking up at him as you readjust yourself on your knees.

His jaw clenches and his eyes light up as he tightens his grip on your hair. He positions your mouth back over his cock. You take a deep breath and open wide. He holds your head in place while his hips thrust forward and backwards, slowly at first, then faster and deeper. It takes every bit of concentration to keep your gag reflex in check as his cock slides further down your throat.

It’s messy. There’s saliva all around your mouth, probably dripping down your chin. He likes it this way. He's grunting and groaning, and you love the sounds he makes. You love that he’s making these sounds while he’s in your mouth. Only you can give him this pleasure. This Chan is not an asshat. This Chan wants you. Needs you. You rub your hands up and down his thighs, scratching lightly with your nails.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants each time he thrusts.

When he pulls all the way out, you lean forward to take him in your mouth again, but he stops you. He’s breathing heavily and with the way he’s gripping his cock, you can tell he almost came.

The amount of self-control he has in these moments is concerning. At least for the goal you’ve set to accomplish next month.

He motions for you to stand, and you do. You use the back of your hand to wipe your chin.

He unbuttons and unzips your pants, pushing them down halfway and having you do the rest. As soon as you’ve stepped out of them, he grabs you by the waist and picks you up. His grip on you is firm, yet effortless, as he turns around to sit you on the dresser.

You love this dresser. It might be your favorite dresser in the world.

He adjusts you so you’re close to the edge and spreads your legs apart. He keeps his hands on your knees, bending down slightly to get eye level with your pussy.

It's in these moments that you know. No matter how he treats you any other time of day—the look in his eyes right now says so much. He wants you in a way you’ve never been wanted before. Whether or not that extends to anything other than a physical connection is for you to worry about later.

He slides his pointer finger along your folds, then rubs circles around your clit. He looks up to catch your eye. There’s a playful glint there when he speaks.

“You’ve worked your way up to a C,” he announces, stepping back.

You scoff and bite back a smile.

He turns around and walks to the bed, leaving you spread open on his dresser. He picks up the dick-shaped lollipop from the bed.

“That’s not what I bought that for,” you say as he pulls the wrapper off, walking back to you.

With one look he silences you and lets you know he doesn’t give a fuck what you bought it for. It’s his now, and so are you. He can do what he likes.

When he’s in front of you again, he pushes the lollipop against your lips. You resist for a moment.

“Do you want to fail my class, y/n?”

Your eyes are on him, but his are on your mouth as you shake your head and drop your jaw. He pushes the lollipop into your mouth, and you close your lips around it. It’s a nice contrast from the salty taste of him lingering there. The cotton candy flavor fills your mouth as he slowly moves it in and out. When he pulls it out, you already know what’s coming next, and you don’t know how to feel about it.

He puts one hand on your stomach, pressing down until you lean back against the mirror. He slides the lollipop down your chin and neck, stopping to circle your nipples, making them sticky then licking them clean. He then lowers it between your legs, pressing it against your center to moisten the tip before sliding it around your folds.

His focus is entirely on what he’s doing; watching intently as he pushes the dick-shaped lollipop into you. You squirm on the dresser, trying to push aside thoughts of what it will take to clean yourself after this. The packaging said it was safe for internal use, but again, this was not what you had in mind for it. When he leans forward and sucks your clit into his mouth, though, you don’t have to try anymore. Your only thoughts are of what you’re going to do without this for a month.

Though, technically, you can receive…right? You’ll have to clarify the rules later.

Chan kisses his way up your stomach, nipping as he gets to your breasts, then full on biting when he’s at your neck. And they’re not soft bites either. You moan loudly, always in depravity when you’re with him. You’re not sure there’s anything he could do to you that you wouldn’t like. And that thought scares you.

The bites at your neck turn into sucks and you lean into it, knowing he’s marking you. He pulls himself away before he can do too much damage, breathing heavily and resting his head on your shoulder as he keeps moving the lollipop in and out of you.

Your hand makes its way beneath his chin to lift his head up and make him look you in the eye. You cup the back of his neck and pull his mouth to yours. You part your lips and your tongue dashes out, seeking his, letting him taste the mixture of himself and the cotton candy flavor. You arch your back until your breasts meet his chest, hardened nipples poking at this skin. He groans into your mouth as you suck on his tongue.

“I want an A, Professor,” you say, pushing him away.

A low growl escapes his mouth as he reclaims your mouth. He withdraws the lollipop from you as he kisses you deeply and messily. His lips and tongue are everywhere, uncontrolled. He grips your hip with one hand, pulling you closer until your center is pressed against his stomach

When he breaks the kiss, he lets out another long, low breath and shakes his head. You want to know so badly what’s he’s thinking. You want him to vocalize how much he wants you. How much he needs you to please him.

He takes a small step back, lollipop still in hand. You watch as he brings it to his mouth, parts his lips and slides it inside. You don’t know why, but it makes you feel better about the whole predicament watching him take the candy phallus into his mouth. You can see him swirling his tongue around it, taking your juices off of it.

He slides you off the dresser to your feet, removing the lollipop from his mouth and placing it on the dresser. He leans down and cups your face, kissing you softly and briefly. He taps you on the ass and nudges you towards the bed.

You crawl on the bed as soon as you reach it and start to turn around. He’s right behind you. His hands land on your hips to hold you in place, keeping you on all fours near the edge of the bed. He’s silent, pressing his cock against you as his hands roam freely up and down your back.

You’re not expecting it, so when he withdraws a hand and delivers a hard smack to your ass you tense up, then moan. The pain he delivers always feels good.

He grips your hips once more and positions himself at your opening, slowly sliding inside of you.

You let your head hang down as you savor the feeling. You missed this. You will continue to miss it if he doesn’t break. He rests in you for a moment, hands still gripping your hips tightly while he’s completely buried in you.

When he pulls out, you brace yourself. He thrusts forward, hard and deep, groaning. You love how vocal he is when he fucks you, too. He doesn’t do feelings, he doesn’t do words, but he makes sounds. He makes it apparent how much he likes the feeling of his cock inside you.

“Arch your back,” he says, moving his hand to the middle of your back and pressing down lightly.

You spread your legs further apart and turn your face on the side to rest your head on the mattress. You arch your back, moaning as the adjusted position allows him to sink deeper into you.

He continues to slowly withdraw then thrust into you quickly, repeating the motion again and again. The cards left on the comforter spill onto the floor as your joint aggression rocks the bed. When you start to move your hips back against him, he picks up the pace, thrusting harder, deeper. He leans forward to reach around your hips and rub your clit. The sound of your thighs connecting to his, yours shared moans, his grunts, fill the quiet room. You fuck him back, panting as you feel your release approaching.

“Professor Bang,” you manage to get out, gripping the sheets, thrusting back against him even harder. “Can I come?”

Roleplay or not, you haven’t forgotten his basic rules.

He chuckles, taking his other hand off your hip to grab your breast, using it for leverage to pull you back on to him.

“I don’t know…” he teases breathlessly, “Can you?”

“May I?” You correct, squeezing your eyes shut as if it will help you hold back.

“You may,” he says, releasing your breast to spank you again.

He keeps rubbing your clit and slapping your ass every few thrusts. The stinging pain combined with the feel of his cock pumping in and out of you reaches its peak. You bite your bottom lip to keep from full on wailing. You bite so hard you break the skin, feeling the taste of copper in your mouth as you try to stifle your moan.

“Chan,” you pant, “I’m coming. I’m coming!”

Your words are breathless as you push back against him with all your might and let your orgasm course through you.

He doesn’t stop his movements until you reach back with your hand, pressing it against his stomach. He slows his thrusts little by little before pulling out of you completely.

The hand holding you up and your thighs shake until they give out. You fall onto the bed with a satisfied sigh. He’s still standing behind you, taking slow, deep breaths. You look over your shoulder to see him stroking his cock. How is he still holding back?

“This is just practice, y/n.” He announces, seeing the look on your face.

Fuck, you’ve got your work cut out for you.

“Do I at least get an ‘A’?” You ask.

“Solid B+,” he says with a smile.

“Fuck you, Professor,” you laugh.

He stops stroking himself, sits on the bed and delivers another smack to your ass.

“Eat,” he commands.

“What about you?” You ask curiously.

“I have two and a half hours left ‘til midnight,” he says. “Eat quick.”

When you wake up Wednesday morning, you’re actually kinda thankful to be getting a break. Chan fucked you, and fucked you, and fucked you some more last night. You didn’t think it would ever end, but you had no complaints at the time. This morning, however, your body is feeling it. Your thighs feels like strangers to one another after spending so much time spread apart, with either his cock or mouth between them.

Later, everyone gathers in the basement and Seungmin unveils two large pieces of paper. The first has each member’s name on it, the second has all the girls’ names and their assigned members. Score boards.

“Anytime a member puts money into the pot or breaks, we will keep track of it here,” Seungmin says.

“And you guys don’t lie or try to cheat?” Allie asks, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“No reason to,” Seungmin says. “It’s just for fun, remember?”

It’s hard for you to imagine they see this as fun. Though perhaps they all just want to strive for the win and feel like an alpha male, beating out their other members.

“Who won last year?” You ask.

The members are silent, looking amongst each other.

“I’ve won the last three years in a row,” says the voice that was moaning and groaning in your ear last night. Your eyes meet with Chan’s and suddenly your heart and aspirations sink. How the fuck are you gonna get him to break then?

a/n: I'm using the 2023 calendar for this so if there's any confusion it's now Wednesday, November 1st in the story. More soon! Likes, reblogs & comments make the tumblr world go 'round <3

[ read chapter thirteen here ]

tag list:

@iflmho / @stayatinykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @krayzieestay / @kayleefriedchicken / @sunnyhonie / @cotton-candycloudz / @lubsungie /@conwunder / @puckmaidens / @ashleighland /@hyunjiinnnn / @bmnyy /@ihrtlix / @maqqiekwon / @teti-menchon0604 / @you-make-skz-stay / @zandra-42 / @seungminindabuilding / @slytherinatheart / @loveuwoo /@hyunjinhoexxx / @chartrucewhore / @torothecatt /@fun-fanfics / @yaorzu-blog/ @yjeonginlvr/ @tenshimara / @a-person-with-void / @ilovetheworldilivein / @dhillomilo /@skzfelixlove / @luvvvash / @blondechannie

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #bang chan smut #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan imagines #bangchan smut #bangchan fanfic #bang chan

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skyahri · 6 months

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I'm Ready Now |Sasuke X Reader| HC

Summary: You and Sasuke are long-term friends. He's finally decided he's ready to be with you, but you had no idea what had been motivating him all along.

Warnings: Modern AU. Club scene. SFW.

- - - - -

You've known Sasuke since high school.

You've stuck by him through everything- when his brother was arrested, when he hated everyone and everything, when he rebelled and became a sort of man whore junior year, and even now into adulthood after he simmered down.

But now he was acting odd, and you aren't the only one who's noticed.

Each of your mutual friends had come to you about Sasuke's subtle change in behavior over the past six or so months.

Sakura was the first to ask you about it, wondering if you had picked up on the shift in his demeanor. Then Ino, Sai, Kankuro, and so on.

The biggest change was his newfound confidence.

Not that he wasn't confident before, but this new wave was more... earned. He used to be so entitled and full of himself, so the maturity brought on by this change was refreshing.

You were going to ask Sasuke about it, but you couldn't find the right time.

He had recently taken over the family business, and it was taking up a lot of his time and energy.

When he was young, after his brother had killed their parents, the company was temporarily taken over by a team of advisors until Sasuke was deemed fit to run it.

After receiving his bachelor's in business management and going through several summers of internships, he was given control and promoted to CEO.

That was right around the time he had started to act out of the ordinary.

That's what brings us to today.

It's Saturday, aka the day the whole gang hangs out. Despite how busy Sasuke had become, he always made sure to prioritize it.

He claims it's because Naruto would throw a tantrum, which is true, but you all know he actually enjoys the time together even if he complains.

He'd come to pick you up, a normal occurrence since he had a car, and you did not.

Tonight, you were all meeting up at a club downtown.

The place is packed, but Kiba was able to reserve a table for everyone to sit at.

It was a bit crowded, but that's to be expected from forcing seventeen people into a twelve person booth.

You're a bit too close to Sasuke, but you don't mind. He's cool and comfortable, unlike some of the other men at the table, so it's not awkward.

He slides his arm along the back of the booth to give you a bit more room.

You notice his cologne, the same one he's worn for the past several years. You've always liked it and encouraged him early on to wear it more often.

Once sat, Naruto immediately ordered a round of shots for the table.

And then another.

And another.

With a little liquid courage, the girls had managed to drag their boyfriends to the dance floor.

It wasn't really your scene, so you opted to hang back with the more introverted members of the group: Shikamaru, Gaara, Shino, and Sasuke.

Hinata would've gladly stayed too, if not for Naruto literally dragging her along.

You were happily chatting with the guys before you were forced asked by Ino and Sakura to retrieve more drinks.

Sasuke offered to go with you since there was no way you could carry so many glasses.

The bartender was busy, so you two hung off to the side for a moment while the wave passed.

You decided now was the time to confront him about his change in behavior.

"You've been different lately."

"Different? How so?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was playing dumb, something he did often when trying to politely avoid a subject.

"I'm worried about you, you know. You're not the same Sasuke anymore."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

Ah, so he was plenty aware of it.

"Not necessarily. I just want to know whats going on with you. You can talk to me."

Sasuke thought for a moment. He was nervous, well as nervous as he could manage to be.

"I've inherited my family's company."

You looked at him confused.

"I have a degree, I own my apartment, I have a stable career. I have even cleared my family's name in the eyes of the public."

You just continued to look at him, more lost than you were a second ago. What was he getting at? Why would this be bothering him?

"I am finally a man worthy of even asking you for a chance."

Oh?

Oh.

Was he..? Did he really..?

"What?" It's all you can manage to get out.

"You deserve a good man who can provide you with a good life. I've worked hard these past few years to be that man, so I can ask for your hand."

You didn't know what to say. How could you after such a bold proclamation?

So you didn't say anything.

You just tilted your head up to kiss him.

It was perfect- your hands on his chest, one of his on your face, and the other sliding into your hair. The smell of his cologne and fabric of his black button-up.

His lips were surprisingly soft. He's a good kisser, but that's less surprising considering how often he'd gotten around in his youth.

You broke away, and your hands slid down so they could interlock with his.

"Sasuke," you'd stare at him softly, "You've always been a worthy man. Money and status don't change anything."

After that night, he stayed the same new Sasuke, but there was a more relaxed air to him.

You'd hoped to keep things under wraps for longer, but Naruto had apparently seen you guys kiss at the club, and news spread pretty fast after that.

Not that Sasuke minded, no. He liked being able to give you passing touches and brief kisses. He liked being able to look at you without suspicion.

Things were good now.

#sasuke uchiha #sasuke #naruto #naruto headcanons #naruto x reader #naruto shippuden #anime headcanons #anime #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha x you #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #sasuke fluff #sasuke uchiha fluff

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uncpanda · 1 year

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Something More

Prompt: Something More by Sugarland

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy

Requested by: ANON

You’re in the front yard, planting daffodils when the car pulls up. It takes you a few minutes to get to your feet, your pregnant belly makes movement more difficult these days. You glance over at the porch where Jack is playing cars with James. Despite being twelve years older than his younger brother, Jack never complains about spending time with his baby brother. In fact, he loves being a big brother. It’s why you’re pregnant again. Jack is in desperate want of another sibling, and Aaron had been in desperate want of a third kid.

You let out a breath once you’re upright. You turn to face the people coming up your walkway, and then you hear Jack yell, “UNCLE DAVE!”

You pause at that, and everything clicks together as you watch a group of people exit the car. These people are your husband’s former team. You watch as Jack’s head swivels between his two year old brother and the people who had been his honorary aunts and uncles. You toss your head towards them and head up the stairs of the porch.

You hold out your hand for James, who happily takes it and lead him inside while Jack hugs everyone. You find Aaron on the couch surrounded by the papers he’s grading. “Aaron.” His head shoots up and he smiles at you. “You have visitors.”

His brow furrows, before he gets off the couch he peers out the window and a very serious look comes over his face. You’ve never seen him look that serious. You place a hand on his arm, and some of the tension eases from his body.

James tugs on his pants leg, and he swoops down and picks him up. He settles a giggly James on his shoulders before ducking out the front door. You watch from the doorway. You had met Aaron nearly four years ago. Of course, back then you had known him as James. He’d been your next-door neighbor; a handsome and kind single dad. He’d been older than you, but you’d been infatuated.

It had taken a few months for him to warm up to you. A month after that he’d accepted your invitation to dinner. There were things that didn’t make sense about his life, but you had a feeling he was being as honest as he could. It was only when you’d found yourself accidentally pregnant that he had sat down and told you the truth of everything. You’d been surprised when you didn’t feel any anger. You understood the lies and you also knew that there was no way in hell your were giving him or Jack up. And with his cover blown and the two of you tied together, you decided to get married and be enveloped into the witness protection life.

Scratch had been found and captured in your sixth month. You’d been living in a small town in Florida. Aaron hated Florida. And when he got the call there had been a moment of elation, and plans were made to move back to DC and for Aaron to go back to work. And then they stopped. While Aaron still wanted to be back in or near DC he told you he wasn’t going back to the FBI. He was going to take early retirement. When you had asked him why, he simply shrugged and said, “I want something more.”

Your growing little family had moved back to DC and Aaron had gone back into law practice and started teaching at GW. He’d told you a lot about his team, and he’d surprised you when he hadn’t reconnected with his team outside of the job.

You’d asked him about it one night, and while he’d held you close he’d admitted, “I’m scared I’ll get sucked back in. I want to be here for you and Jack and this little one.” His hand had stroked your nine month pregnant belly. And now, here you were two years later and Aaron was finally being reunited with his family.

You watch Aaron and Jack from the window. James is leaning forward, but he isn’t trying to interact with anyone. He’s in the toddler stage where he hates strangers. Instead, he’s clinging to Aaron’s hair. You know for a fact that that isn’t comfortable, the kid has a grip like you wouldn’t believe. There’s a twinge in your back, and you rub at it while Jack gestures towards the house. You take that as your que to head on out.

It’s a bit of a waddle, and Jack is quick to run back and help you down the stairs; your sweet boy. And as you’re enveloped into hugs and greetings you can’t help but wonder how Aaron has stayed away from these people for so long.

Aaron watches you interact with the team. He expects some sort of longing to take over; a desire for the old days. He admits he sometimes misses the weight of his gun on his hip or the feeling of his credentials in his suit pocket. But the overwhelming NEED to be out there chasing the bad guys is gone.

His time in witness protection had allowed him to realize he wanted something more out of life. He didn’t want just a job, he wanted a family. He wanted to be there for Jack, and he had treasured those first few months just the two of them, but Jack had been growing up, and then he’d met you. You’d been an unexpected curve ball life had thrown at him, and he was so grateful. You’d provided him with love and understanding and someone to lean on. You were his sun, and his children were his moon and stars.

And as James pulls on his hair, and Jack and Henry run off to go look at his comic books, and you connect with the team while rubbing your baby bump, he knows that he can be part of this family again, and he can do it without being sucked in. Because he has something more than the job now.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotch #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds headcannons #criminal minds drabble

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ddollfface · 7 months

Text

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐀 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚; 𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

𝗕𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗬𝘂𝗷𝗶𝗿𝗼 𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗺𝗮'𝘀 𝗗𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗺𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘁.

Throughout your whole life, you've always felt a sort of presence loom over you. Whether it's protecting you or not, you have no clue, but it's always been there. Somewhat like a mole on the bottom of your foot or that itch in the back of your brain when something is wrong. It's always there, but there's nothing you can do about it. Well, without drastic measures.

You're not sure if it's human or not, but you're assuming so, though the thought is alarming. It's the only reasonable option. I mean, there's no such thing as demons or ghosts, right? So that just leaves the only option, that it's some type of person, some being, possibly a government. Of course, you'd prefer that it'd be some paranoid thought you've conjured in your unconscious, but you're sure that's not the case. How can that be the case when money appears at your, albeit unkept, doorstep? Or how you can sense the eyes on you while you training? And worst of all, how you can just feel the disappointed stare when you're on a date with some random classmate? The pure annoyance in the stare convinces you that this thing is real, that it isn't a figment of your imagination.

And it makes you wonder why. Why do you feel this presence? Well, you're sure that it could be linked to the fact that you're not... normal. There's always been something different about you; you've known this since the day your mama left you. That fearful look in her eyes when she says you smash a plate, just for holding it a little too tight. You thumb and pointer squeezing too much. It was as if she'd been taken back to a memory you weren't aware of, and you still aren't today.

Even at the age of seventeen, you still aren't aware of why your mama left in such haste, leaving everything she owned, only having the clothes on her back and her wallet. It puzzled you, though you were only twelve years old. You knew it was something you'd done; you caused your mama to leave. It was your fault, something you did.

And that's when it started, the presence, I mean. It's always been there, but you started noticing it far more frequently after your mama left. Before, it'd only appear once or twice a year, but now it was every month, maybe more.

For some reason, unknown to you, your mama leaving caused something to change. Something in you changed. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside you, both physically and mentally. You began to assess everything you'd do, trying to comprehend what you could've done to cause your mama to do such a thing, to leave her only daughter, her only child.

Was breaking a plate really that otherwordly to your mama? Sure, you'd only been twelve, but you were sure that girls your age had done the same?

Well, the more you thought of it, the more odd your strength was. You'd always been... stronger than most girls. That was undeniable. Both you and your mother knew of this. It was something in the back of your mind, something you had to be aware of.

You were different. You had to be more careful when you played. You couldn't go overboard, get too excited, and the next thing you knew a girl had a broken arm. The strength you possessed scared you; you didn't want to hurt people.

And with your strength came blood, so much blood, so much pain. Pain that you had caused. You really didn't mean it; you just wanted to play with all the other girls, but you had done it now. Your grip was too tight. You had pushed her too hard. It was your fault, and now she was bleeding. Oh, oh, oh, she was bleeding, a lot.

God, how you hate the smell of blood. The look of it, the feel of it, all of it; it made your head go fuzzy and your heart pound in your chest, but not in a bad way. Not in the way of when you fall off the monkey bars or when your mama catches you with your hand in the cookie jar. It's in the way of when the boy you like looks at you or when you've just finished playing a good game of ball. It's exhilarating, exciting even. You anticipate the feeling of blood between your fingers, rolling down your palm, and staining the sleeves of your uniform.

And that's what made you realize you were different. You didn't feel like other people, other girls, other kids. You were different, on a fundamental level. Even in the basics, how you felt was different. Was different even the right word? You're not too sure, but it scared you.

All these things you were feeling scared you. You didn't want to get pleasure from hurting others! It isn't right, you need help, you concluded. And that's when you realize that your mama ran away because of this, the feelings you get. Your own mama was scared of you. That's why she left you; you now understood.

You came to this understanding a few years ago, around three years, when you were fourteen. It was hard to accept, but you learned and evolved to comprehend your mama's actions. Instead of hating her for it, you sympathized with her. You understood. You would've done the same if you'd seen your darling daughter grow into this violent way of thought throughout the years.

That doesn't take away from the fact that you missed her; you missed your mama dearly. She was oh so kind to you. You miss her voice, her touch, and her cooking. Your mama was a good cook, far better than you've ever been. At least she left her cooking recipes, right?

Now, you are left alone.

Well, not completely alone. You have the ominous presence, you suppose. At least, you're not completely alone. If anything, the presence brings you back, sometimes, but not in a warm way. You can always sense when it's near. Your hair begins to stand, both on your head and on your neck.

Whenever it comes around, you can feel your muscles tense, your hair begins to float, and it's as if you're being reunited with something. With what? You don't know. There's a lot you don't know. You certainly don't know why you're connected to this presence in this way, but you do know how and what you're feeling. It makes you feel weak, like a bug.

You don't like feeling weak; you don't like how this presence makes you feel. You decided that over a year ago. That's when you began to train, wanting to become stronger, which was far easier than you thought.

You'd train day and night, trying to become stronger, better, faster. You wanted to rid yourself of this weak feeling, this feeling of submission you felt whenever you were around this presence. You wanted to harness this natural strength you were born with, this gift you were born with.

You wanted to find this presence and beat it into a bloody pulp for making you feel this way, for making your mama leave you. You didn't know how, but you knew they were connected. You knew that this presence was the cause of your strength, and you sought it out. You were going to find it and beat it, though it only watched from a distance, never getting too close.

This presence had been with you for years. You were sure that you'd be able to find it and beat it.

You'll make sure of it.

#baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #reader insert #reader #fem reader #baki hanma #drabble #just a thought #not proofread #yujiro hanma #hanma yujiro #just an idea #bad writing #this has been sitting in my drafts for so long #i was so too nervous to post it lol #but idc so #baki yujiro #baki x reader

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